The Metamorphoses of Ovid Part 32

[Footnote 106: _Myrmidons._--Ver. 654. From the Greek word ????, 'an ant;' according to this version of the story.]

EXPLANATION.

This fable, perhaps, has no other foundation than the retreat of the subjects of aeacus into woods and caverns, whence they returned, when the contagion had ceased with which their country had been afflicted, and when he had nearly lost all hopes of seeing them again. It is probable that the old men were carried off by the plague, while the young, who had more strength, resisted its power, which circ.u.mstance would fully account for the active habits of the remaining subjects of aeacus. Some writers, however, suppose that the Myrmidons were a barbarous, but industrious people of Thessaly, who usually dwelt in caves, and who were brought thence by aeacus to people his island, which had been made desolate by a pestilence. The similarity of their name to the Greek word ????, signifying 'an ant,' most probably gave occasion to the report that Jupiter had changed ants into men.

FABLE VII. [VII.661-793]

Cephalus, having resisted the advances of Aurora, who has become enamoured of him while hunting, returns in disguise to his wife, Procris, to try if her affection for him is sincere. She, discovering his suspicions, flies to the woods, and becomes a huntress, with the determination not to see him again. Afterwards, on becoming reconciled to him, she bestows on him a dog and a dart, which Diana had once given her. The dog is turned into stone, while hunting a wild beast, which Themis has sent to ravage the territories of Thebes, after the interpretation of the riddle of the Sphinx, by dipus.

In these and other narratives they pa.s.sed the day. The last part of the day was spent in feasting, and the night in sleep. The golden Sun had {now} shed his beams, {when} the East wind was still blowing, and detained the sails about to return. The sons of Pallas repair to Cephalus, who was stricken in years. Cephalus and the sons of Pallas, together {with him}, {come} to the king; but a sound sleep still possessed the monarch. Phocus, the son of aeacus, received them at the threshold; for Telamon and his brother were levying men for the war.

Phocus conducted the citizens of Cecrops into an inner room, and a handsome apartment. Soon as he had sat down with them, he observed that the grandson of aeolus[107] was holding in his hand a javelin made of an unknown wood, the point of which was of gold.

Having first spoken a few words in promiscuous conversation, he said, "I am fond of the forests, and of the chase of wild beasts; still, from what wood the shaft of the javelin, which thou art holding, is cut, I have been for some time in doubt; certainly, if it were of wild ash, it would be of brown color; if of cornel-wood, there would be knots in it. Whence it comes I am ignorant, but my eyes have not looked upon a weapon used for a javelin, more beautiful than this." One of the Athenian brothers replied, and said, "In it, thou wilt admire its utility, {even} more than its beauty. Whatever it is aimed at, it strikes; chance does not guide it when thrown, and it flies back stained with blood, no one returning it." Then, indeed, does the Nereian youth[108] inquire into all particulars, why it was given, and whence {it came}? who was the author of a present of so great value? What he asks, {Cephalus} tells him; but as to what he is ashamed to tell, {and} on what condition he received it, he is silent; and, being touched with sorrow for the loss of his wife, he thus speaks, with tears bursting forth: "Son of a G.o.ddess, this weapon (who could have believed it?) makes me weep, and long will make me do so, if the Fates shall grant me long to live. 'Twas this that proved the destruction of me and of my dear wife. Would that I had ever been without this present! Procris was (if perchance {the fame of} Orithya[109] may have more probably reached thy ears) the sister of Orithya, the victim of violence. If you should choose to compare the face and the manners of the two, she was the more worthy to be carried off. Her father Erectheus united her to me; love, {too}, united her to me. I was p.r.o.nounced happy, and {so} I was. Not thus did it seem {good} to the G.o.ds; or even now, perhaps, I should be {so}. The second month was now pa.s.sing, after the marriage rites, when the saffron-colored Aurora, dispelling the darkness in the morn, beheld me, as I was planting nets for the horned deer, from the highest summit of the ever-blooming Hymettus,[110] and carried me off against my will.

By the permission of the G.o.ddess, let me relate what is true; though she is comely with her rosy face, {and} though she possesses the confines of light, and possesses {the confines} of darkness, though she is nourished with the draughts of nectar, {still} I loved Procris; Procris was {ever} in my thoughts, Procris was ever on my lips. I alleged the sacred ties of marriage, our late embraces, and our recent union, and the prior engagements of my forsaken bed. The G.o.ddess was provoked, and said, 'Cease thy complaints, ungrateful man; keep thy Procris; but, if my mind is gifted with foresight, thou wilt wish that thou hadst not had her;'"

and {thus}, in anger, she sent me back to her.

"While I was returning, and was revolving the sayings of the G.o.ddess within myself, there began to be apprehensions that my wife had not duly observed the laws of wedlock. Both her beauty and her age bade me be apprehensive of her infidelity; {yet} her virtue forbade me to believe it. But yet, I had been absent; and besides, she, from whom I was {just} returning, was an example of {such} criminality: but we that are in love, apprehend all {mishaps}. I {then} endeavored to discover that, by reason of which I must feel anguish, and by bribes to make attempts[111]

upon her chaste constancy. Aurora encouraged this apprehension, and changed my shape, {as} I seemed {then} to perceive. I entered Athens, the city of Pallas, unknown {to any one}, and I went into my own house.

The house itself was without fault, and gave indications of chast.i.ty, and was in concern for the carrying off of its master.

"Having, with difficulty, made my way to the daughter of Erectheus by means of a thousand artifices, soon as I beheld her, I was amazed, and was nearly abandoning my projected trial of her constancy; with difficulty did I restrain myself from telling the truth, with difficulty from giving her the kisses which I ought. She was in sorrow; but yet no one could be more beautiful than she, {even} in her sadness; and she was consuming with regret for her husband, torn from her. {Only} think, Phocus, how great was the beauty of her, whom even sorrow did so much become. Why should I tell how often her chaste manners repulsed {all} my attempts? How often she said, 'I am reserved for {but} one, wherever he is; for that one do I reserve my joys.' For whom, in his senses, would not that trial of her fidelity have been sufficiently great? {Yet} I was not content; and I strove to wound myself, while I was promising to give vast sums for {but one} night, and forced her at last to waver, by increasing the reward. {On this} I cried out, 'Lo! I, the gallant in disguise, to my sorrow, {and} lavish in promises, to my misery, am thy real husband; thou treacherous woman! thou art caught, {and} I the witness.' She said nothing: only, overwhelmed with silent shame, she fled from the house of treachery, together with her wicked husband; and from her resentment against me, abhorring the whole race of men, she used to wander[112] on the mountains, employed in the pursuits of Diana.

Then, a more violent flame penetrated to my bones, thus deserted.

I begged forgiveness, and owned myself in fault; and that I too might have yielded to a similar fault, on presents being made; if presents so large had been offered. Upon my confessing this, having first revenged her offended modesty, she was restored to me, and pa.s.sed the pleasant years in harmony with me. She gave me, besides, as though in herself she had given me but a small present, a dog as a gift, which when her own Cynthia had presented to her, she had said, 'He will excel all dogs in running.' She gave her, too, a javelin, which, as thou seest, I am carrying in my hand.

"Dost thou inquire what was the fortune of the other present--hear {then}. Thou wilt be astonished at the novelty of the wondrous fact. The son of Laius[113] had solved the verses not understood by the wit of others before him; and the mysterious propounder lay precipitated, forgetful of her riddle. But the genial Themis,[114] forsooth, did not leave such things unrevenged. Immediately another plague was sent forth against Aonian Thebes; and many of the peasants fed the savage monster, both by the destruction of their cattle, and their own as well. We, the neighboring youth, came together, and enclosed the extensive fields with toils. With a light bound it leaped over the nets, and pa.s.sed over the topmost barriers of the toils that were set. The couples were taken off the dogs, from which, as they followed, it fled, and eluded them, no otherwise than as a winged bird. I myself, too, was requested, with eager demands, for my {dog} Laelaps [{Tempest}]; that was the name of {my wife's} present. For some time already had he been struggling to get free from the couples, and strained them with his neck, as they detained him. Scarce was he well let loose; and {yet} we could not now tell where he was; the warm dust had the prints of his feet, {but} he himself was s.n.a.t.c.hed from our eyes. A spear does not fly swifter than he {did}, nor pellets whirled from the twisted sling, nor the light arrow from the Gortynian bow.[115] The top of a hill, {standing} in the middle, looks down upon the plains below. Thither I mount, and I enjoy the sight of an unusual chase; wherein the wild beast[116] one while seemed to be caught, at another to elude his very bite; and it does not fly in a direct course, and straight onward, but deceives his mouth, as he pursues it, and returns in circles, that its enemy may not have his full career against it. He keeps close to it, and pursues it, a match for him; and {though} like as if he has caught it, {still} he fails to catch it, and vainly snaps at the air. I was {now} turning to the resources of my javelin; while my right hand was poising it, {and} while I was attempting to insert my fingers in the thongs {of it}, I turned away my eyes; and again I had directed them, recalled to the same spot, when, {most} wondrous, I beheld two marble statues in the middle of the plain; you would think the one was flying, the other barking {in pursuit}. Some G.o.d undoubtedly, if any G.o.d {really} did attend to them, desired them both to remain unconquered in this contest of speed."

[Footnote 107: _aeolus._--Ver. 672. Apollodorus reckons Deioneus, the parent of Cephalus, among the children of Apollo.]

[Footnote 108: _Nereian youth._--Ver. 685. Phocus, who was the son of aeacus, by Psamathe, the daughter of Nereus.]

[Footnote 109: _Orithya._--Ver. 695. She was the daughter of Erectheus, king of Athens, and was carried off by Boreas, as already stated.]

[Footnote 110: _Hymettus._--Ver. 702. This was a mountain of Attica, famous for its honey and its marble.]

[Footnote 111: _To make attempts._--Ver. 721. Tzetzes informs us that she was found by her husband in company with a young man named Pteleon, who had made her a present of a golden wreath.

Antoninus Liberalis says, that her husband tried her fidelity by offering her a bribe, through the medium of a slave.]

[Footnote 112: _Used to wander._--Ver. 746. Some writers say that she fled to Crete, on which, Diana, who was aware of the attachment of Aurora for her husband, made her a present of a javelin, which no person could escape; and gave her the dog Laelaps, which no wild beast could outrun. Such is the version given by Hyginus. But Apollodorus and Antoninus Liberalis say, that she fled to Minos, who, prevailing over her virtue, made her a present of the dog and the javelin. Afterwards, presenting herself before her husband, disguised as a huntress, she gave him proofs of the efficacy of them; and upon his requesting her to give them to him, she exacted, as a condition, what must, apparently, have resulted in a breach of the laws of conjugal fidelity. On his a.s.senting to the proposal, she discovered herself, and afterwards made him the presents which he desired.]

[Footnote 113: _The son of Laius._--Ver. 759. dipus was the son of Laius, king of Thebes. The Sphinx was a monster, the offspring of Typhon and Echidna, which haunted a mountain near Thebes. dipus solved the riddle which it proposed for solution, on which the monster precipitated itself from a rock. It had the face of a woman, the wings of a bird, and the extremities of a lion.]

[Footnote 114: _Genial Themis._--Ver. 762. Themis had a very ancient oracle in Botia.]

[Footnote 115: _Gortynian bow._--Ver. 778. Crete was called Gortynian, from Gortys or Gortyna, one of its cities, which was famous for the skill of its inhabitants in archery.]

[Footnote 116: _The wild beast._--Ver. 782. Antoninus Liberalis and Apollodorus say that this was a fox, which was called 'the Teumesian,' from Teumesus, a mountain of Botia, and that the Thebans, to appease its voracity, were wont to give it a child to devour every month. Palaephatus says that it was not a wild beast, but a man called Alopis.]

EXPLANATION.

There were two princes of the name of Cephalus; one, the son of Mercury and Herse, the daughter of Cecrops; the other, the son of Deoneus, king of Phocis, and Diomeda, the daughter of Xuthus. The first was carried off by Aurora, and went to live with her in Syria; the second married Procris, the daughter of Erectheus, king of Athens.

Though Apollodorus seems, in the first instance, to follow this genealogy, in his third book he confounds the actions of those two princes. Ovid and other writers have spoken only of the son of Deoneus, who was carried off by Aurora, and having left her, according to them, returned to Procris.

FABLE VIII. [VII.794-865]

Procris, jealous of Cephalus, in her turn, goes to the forest, which she supposes to be the scene of his infidelity, to surprise him.

Hearing the rustling noise which she makes in the thicket, where she lies concealed, he imagines it is a wild beast, and, hurling the javelin, which she has formerly given to him, he kills her.

Thus far {did he speak}; and {then} he was silent. "But," said Phocus, "what fault is there in that javelin?" {whereupon} he thus informed him of the demerits of the javelin. "Let my joys, Phocus, be the first portion of my sorrowful story. These will I first relate. O son of aeacus, I delight to remember the happy time, during which, for the first years {after my marriage}, I was completely blessed in my wife, {and} she was happy in her husband. A mutual kindness and social love possessed us both. Neither would she have preferred the bed of Jupiter before my love; nor was there any woman that could have captivated me, not {even} if Venus herself had come. Equal flames fired the b.r.e.a.s.t.s {of us both}. The Sun striking the tops of the mountains with his early rays, I was wont generally to go with youthful ardor into the woods, to hunt; but I neither suffered my servants, nor my horses, nor my quick-scented hounds to go {with me}, nor the knotty nets to attend me; I was safe with my javelin. But when my right hand was satiated with the slaughter of wild beasts, I betook myself to the cool spots and the shade, and the breeze which was breathing forth from the cool valleys.

The gentle breeze was sought by me, in the midst of the heat. For the breeze was I awaiting; that was a refreshment after my toils: 'Come, breeze,' I was wont to sing, for I remember it {full well}, 'and, most grateful, refresh me, and enter my breast; and, as thou art wont, be willing to a.s.suage the heat with which I am parched.' Perhaps I may have added ({for} so my destiny prompted me) many words of endearment, and I may have been accustomed to say, 'Thou art my great delight; thou dost refresh and cherish me; thou makest me to love the woods and lonely haunts, and thy breath is ever courted by my face.' I was not aware that some one was giving an ear, deceived by these ambiguous words; and thinking the name of the breeze, so often called upon by me, to be that of a Nymph, he believed some Nymph was beloved by me.

"The rash informer of an imaginary crime immediately went to Procris, and with his whispering tongue related what he had heard. Love is a credulous thing. When it was told her, she fell down fainting, with sudden grief; and coming to, after a long time, she declared that she was wretched, and {born} to a cruel destiny; and she complained about my constancy. Excited by a groundless charge,[117] she dreads that which, {indeed}, is nothing; {and} fears a name without a body; and, in her wretchedness, grieves as though about a real rival. Yet she is often in doubt, and, in her extreme wretchedness, hopes she may be deceived, and denies credit to the information; and unless she beholds it herself, will not pa.s.s sentence upon the criminality of her husband. The following light of the morning had banished the night, when I sallied forth, and sought the woods; and being victorious in the fields, I said, 'Come, breeze, and relieve my pain;' and suddenly I seemed to hear I know not what groans in the midst of my words; yet I said, 'Come hither, most delightful {breeze}.' Again, the falling leaves making a gentle noise, I thought it was a wild beast, and I discharged my flying weapon.

It was Procris; and receiving the wound in the middle of her breast, she cried out, 'Ah, wretched me!' When the voice of my attached wife was heard, headlong and distracted, I ran towards {that} voice. I found her dying, and staining her scattered vestments with blood, and drawing her own present (ah, wretched me!) from out of her wound; I lifted up her body, dearer to me than my own, in my guilty arms, and I bound up her cruel wounds with the garments torn from my bosom; and I endeavored to stanch the blood, and besought her that she would not forsake me, {thus} criminal, by her death. She, wanting strength, and now expiring, forced herself to utter these few words:

"'I suppliantly beseech thee, by the ties of our marriage, and by the G.o.ds above, and my own G.o.ds, and if I have deserved anything well of thee, by that {as well}, and by the cause of my death, my love even now enduring, while I am peris.h.i.+ng, do not allow the Nymph Aura [{breeze}]

to share with thee my marriage ties.' She {thus} spoke; and then, at last, I perceived the mistake of the name, and informed her of it. But what avails informing her? She sinks; and her little strength flies, together with her blood. And so long as she can look on anything, she gazes on me, and breathes out upon me, on my face,[118] her unhappy life; but she seems to die free from care, and with a more contented look."

In tears, the hero is relating these things to them, as they weep, and, lo! aeacus enters, with his two sons,[119] and his soldiers newly levied; which Cephalus received, {furnished} with valorous arms.

[Footnote 117: _Groundless charge._--Ver. 829. Possibly, Ovid may intend to imply that her jealousy received an additional stimulus from the similarity of the name 'Aura' to that of her former rival, Aurora.]

[Footnote 118: _On my face._--Ver. 861. He alludes to the prevalent custom of catching the breath of the dying person in the mouth.]

[Footnote 119: _His two sons._--Ver. 864. These were Telamon and Peleus, who had levied these troops.]

EXPLANATION.

The love which Cephalus, the son of Deoneus, bore for the chase, causing him to rise early in the morning for the enjoyment of his sport, was the origin of the story of his love for Aurora. His wife, Procris, as Apollodorus tells us, carried on an amour with Pteleon, and, probably, caused that report to be spread abroad, to divert attention from her own intrigue. Cephalus, suspecting his wife's infidelity, she fled to the court of the second Minos, king of Crete, who fell in love with her. Having, thereby, incurred the resentment of Pasiphae, who adopted several methods to destroy her rival, and, among others, spread poison in her bed, she left Crete, and returned to Thoricus, the place of her former residence, where she was reconciled to Cephalus, and gave him the celebrated dog and javelin mentioned by Ovid.

The poets tell us, that this dog was made by Vulcan, and presented by him to Jupiter, who gave him to Europa; and that coming to the hands of her son Minos, he presented it to Procris. The wild beast, which ravaged the country, and was pursued by the dog of Procris, and which some writers tell us was a monstrous fox, was probably a pirate or sea robber; and being, perhaps, pursued by some Cretan officer of Minos, who escorted Procris back to her country, on their vessels being s.h.i.+pwrecked near some rocks, it gave occasion to the story that the dog and the monster had been changed into stone. Indeed, Tzetzes says distinctly, that the dog was called Cyon, and the monster, or fox, Alopis; and he also says that Cyon was the captain who brought Procris back from Crete. It being believed that resentment had some share in causing the death of Procris, the court of the Areiopagus condemned Cephalus to perpetual banishment. The island of Cephalenia, which received its name from him, having been given to him by Amphitryon, he retired to it, where his son Celeus afterwards succeeded him.