Metamorphoses II.377-500
Jupiter disguises himself as Diana to have his way with a huntress; Juno transforms her into a bear as punishment.
fit nova Cycnus avis nec se caeloque Iovique
credit, ut iniuste missi memor ignis ab illo;
stagna petit patulosque lacus ignemque perosus
quae colat elegit contraria flumina flammis. 380
Squalidus interea genitor Phaethontis et expers
ipse sui decoris, qualis, cum deficit orbem,
esse solet, lucemque odit seque ipse diemque
datque animum in luctus et luctibus adicit iram
officiumque negat mundo. ‘satis’ inquit ‘ab aevi 385
sors mea principiis fuit inrequieta, pigetque
actorum sine fine mihi, sine honore laborum!
quilibet alter agat portantes lumina currus!
si nemo est omnesque dei non posse fatentur,
ipse agat ut saltem, dum nostras temptat habenas, 390
orbatura patres aliquando fulmina ponat!
tum sciet ignipedum vires expertus equorum
non meruisse necem, qui non bene rexerit illos.’
Talia dicentem circumstant omnia Solem
numina, neve velit tenebras inducere rebus, 395
supplice voce rogant; missos quoque Iuppiter ignes
excusat precibusque minas regaliter addit.
colligit amentes et adhuc terrore paventes
Phoebus equos stimuloque dolens et verbere saevit
saevit, erum1 natumque obiectat et inputat illis. 400
At pater omnipotens ingentia moenia caeli
circuit et, ne quid labefactum viribus ignis
corruat, explorat. quae postquam firma suique
roboris esse videt, terras hominumque labores
perspicit. Arcadiae tamen est inpensior illi 405
cura suae: fontesque et nondum audentia labi
flumina restituit, dat terrae gramina, frondes
arboribus, laesasque iubet revirescere silvas.
dum redit itque frequens, in virgine Nonacrina
haesit, et accepti caluere sub ossibus ignes. 410
non erat huius opus lanam mollire trahendo
nec positu variare comas; ubi fibula vestem,
vitta coercuerat neglectos alba capillos;
et modo leve manu iaculum, modo sumpserat arcum,
miles erat Phoebes: nec Maenalon attigit ulla 415
gratior hac Triviae; sed nulla potentia longa est.
Ulterius medio spatium sol altus habebat,
cum subit illa nemus, quod nulla ceciderat aetas;
exuit hic umero pharetram lentosque retendit
arcus inque solo, quod texerat herba, iacebat 420
et pictam posita pharetram cervice premebat.
Iuppiter ut vidit fessam et custode vacantem,
‘hoc certe furtum coniunx mea nesciet’ inquit,
‘aut si rescierit, sunt, o sunt iurgia tanti!’
protinus induitur faciem cultumque Dianae 425
atque ait: ‘o comitum, virgo, pars una mearum,
in quibus es venata iugis?’ de caespite virgo
se levat et ‘salve numen, me iudice’ dixit,
‘audiat ipse licet, maius Iove.’ ridet et audit
et sibi praeferri se gaudet et oscula iungit, 430
nec moderata satis nec sic a virgine danda.
qua venata foret silva, narrare parantem
inpedit amplexu nec se sine crimine prodit.
illa quidem contra, quantum modo femina posset
(adspiceres utinam, Saturnia, mitior esses), 435
illa quidem pugnat, sed quem superare puella,
quisve Iovem poterat? superum petit aethera victor
Iuppiter: huic odio nemus est et conscia silva;
unde pedem referens paene est oblita pharetram
tollere cum telis et quem suspenderat arcum. 440
Ecce, suo comitata choro Dictynna per altum
Maenalon ingrediens et caede superba ferarum
adspicit hanc visamque vocat: clamata refugit
et timuit primo, ne Iuppiter esset in illa;
sed postquam pariter nymphas incedere vidit, 445
sensit abesse dolos numerumque accessit ad harum.
heu! quam difficile est crimen non prodere vultu!
vix oculos attollit humo nec, ut ante solebat,
iuncta deae lateri nec toto est agmine prima,
sed silet et laesi dat signa rubore pudoris; 450
et, nisi quod virgo est, poterat sentire Diana
mille notis culpam: nymphae sensisse feruntur.
orbe resurgebant lunaria cornua nono,
cum de venatu fraternis languida flammis,
nacta nemus gelidum dea, quo cum murmure labens 455
ibat et attritas versabat rivus harenas.
ut loca laudavit, summas pede contigit undas;
his quoque laudatis ‘procul est’ ait ‘arbiter omnis:
nuda superfusis tinguamus corpora lymphis!’
Parrhasis erubuit; cunctae velamina ponunt; 460
una moras quaerit: dubitanti vestis adempta est,
qua posita nudo patuit cum corpore crimen.
attonitae manibusque uterum celare volenti
‘i procul hinc’ dixit ‘nec sacros pollue fontis!’
Cynthia deque suo iussit secedere coetu. 465
Senserat hoc olim magni matrona Tonantis
distuleratque graves in idonea tempora poenas.
causa morae nulla est, et iam puer Arcas (id ipsum
indoluit Iuno) fuerat de paelice natus.
quo simul obvertit saevam cum lumine mentem, 470
‘scilicet hoc etiam restabat, adultera’ dixit,
‘ut fecunda fores, fieretque iniuria partu
nota, Iovisque mei testatum dedecus esset.
haud inpune feres: adimam tibi namque figuram,
qua tibi, quaque places nostro, inportuna, marito.’ 475
dixit et adversam prensis a fronte capillis
stravit humi pronam. tendebat bracchia supplex:
bracchia coeperunt nigris horrescere villis
curvarique manus et aduncos crescere in unguis
officioque pedum fungi laudataque quondam 480
ora Iovi lato fieri deformia rictu.
neve preces animos et verba precantia flectant,
posse loqui eripitur: vox iracunda minaxque
plenaque terroris rauco de gutture fertur;
mens antiqua tamen facta quoque mansit in ursa, 485
adsiduoque suos gemitu testata dolores
qualescumque manus ad caelum et sidera tollit
ingratumque Iovem, nequeat cum dicere, sentit.
a! quotiens, sola non ausa quiescere silva,
ante domum quondamque suis erravit in agris! 490
a! quotiens per saxa canum latratibus acta est
venatrixque metu venantum territa fugit!
saepe feris latuit visis, oblita quid esset,
ursaque conspectos in montibus horruit ursos
pertimuitque lupos, quamvis pater esset in illis. 495
Ecce Lycaoniae proles ignara parentis,
Arcas adest ter quinque fere natalibus actis;
dumque feras sequitur, dum saltus eligit aptos
nexilibusque plagis silvas Erymanthidas ambit,
incidit in matrem, quae restitit Arcade viso 500.
So Cycnus became a strange new bird—the swan. But he did not trust himself to the upper air and Jove, since he remembered the fiery bolt which the god had un- justly hurled. His favourite haunts were the still pools and spreading lakes; and, hating fire, he chose the water for his home, as the opposite of flame.
Meanwhile Phoebus sits in gloomy mourning garb, shorn of his brightness, just as when he is darkened by eclipse. He hates himself and the light of day, gives over his soul to grief, to grief adds rage, and refuses to do service to the world. “Enough,” he says: “from time’s beginning has my lot been unrestful; I am weary of my endless and unrequited toils. Let any else who chooses drive the chariot of light. If no one will, and all the gods confess that it is beyond their power, let Jove himself do it, that, sometime at least, while he essays to grasp my reins, he may lay aside the bolts that are destined to rob fathers of their boys. Then will he know, when he has himself tried the strength of those fiery-footed steeds, that he who failed to guide them well did not deserve death.”
As he thus speaks all the gods stand around him, and beg him humbly not to plunge the world in darkness. Jove himself seeks to excuse the bolt he hurled, and to his prayers adds threats in royal style. Then Phoebus yokes his team again, wild and trembling still with fear; and, in his grief, fiercely plies them with lash and goad, fiercely he plies them, reproaching and taxing them with the death of their master, his son.
But now the Almighty Father makes a round of the great battlements of heaven and examines to see if anything has been loosened by the might of fire. When he sees that these are firm with their immortal strength, he inspects the earth and the affairs of men. Yet Arcadia, above all, is his more earnest care. He restores her springs and rivers, which hardly dare as yet to flow; he gives grass again to the ground, leaves to the trees, and bids the damaged forests grow green again. And as he came and went upon his tasks he chanced to see a certain Arcadian nymph, and straightway the fire he caught grew hot to his very marrow. She had no need to spin soft wools nor to arrange her hair in studied elegance. A simple brooch fastened her gown and a white fillet held her loose-flowing hair. And in this garb, now with a polished spear, and now a bow in her hand, was she arrayed as one of Phoebe’s warriors. Nor was any nymph who roamed over the slopes of Maenalus in higher favour with her goddess than,was she. But no favour is of long duration.
The sun was high o’erhead, just beyond his zenith, when the nymph entered the forest that all years had left unfelled. Here she took her quiver from her shoulder, unstrung her tough bow, and lay down upon the grassy ground, with her head pillowed on her painted quiver. When Jove saw her there, tired out and unprotected: “Here, surely,” said, my consort will know nothing of my guile; or if she learn it, well bought are taunts at such a price.” Straightway he put on the features and dress of Diana and said: “Dear maid, best loved of all my followers, where hast thou been hunting to-day?” The maiden arose from her grassy couch and said: “Hail thou, my goddess, greater far than Jove, I say, though he himself should hear.” Jove laughed to hear her, rejoicing to be prized more highly than himself; and he kissed her lips, not modestly, nor as a maiden kisses. When she began to tell him in what woods her hunt had been, he broke in upon her story with an embrace, and by this outrage betrayed himself. She, in truth, struggled against him with all her girlish might—hadst thou been there to see, Saturnia, thy judgment were more kind!—but whom could a girl o’ercome, or who could prevail against Jove? Jupiter won the day, and went back to the sky; she loathed the forest and the woods that knew her secret. As she retraced her path she almost forgot to take up the quiver with its arrows, and the bow she had hung up.
But see, Diana, with her train of nymphs, approaches along the slopes of Maenalus, proud of her trophies of the chase. She sees our maiden and calls to her. At first she flees in fear, lest this should be Jove in disguise again. But when she sees the other nymphs coming too, she is reassured and joins the band. Alas, how hard it is not to betray a guilty conscience in the face! She walks with downcast eyes, not, as was her wont, close to her goddess, and leading all the rest. Her silence and her blushes give clear tokens of her plight; and, were not Diana herself a maid, she could know her guilt by a thousand signs; it is said that the nymphs knew it. Nine times since then the crescent moon had grown full orbed, when the goddess, worn with the chase and overcome by the hot sun’s rays, came to a cool grove through which a gently murmuring stream flowed over its smooth sands. The place delighted her and she dipped her feet into the water. Delighted too with this, she said to her companions “Come, no one is near to see; let us disrobe and bathe us in the brook.” The Arcadian blushed, and, while all the rest obeyed, she only sought excuses for delay. But her companions forced her to comply, and there her shame was openly confessed. As she stood terror-stricken, vainly striving to hide her state, Diana cried: “Begone! and pollute not our sacred pool”; and so expelled her from her company.
The great Thunderer’s wife had known all this long since; but she had put off her vengeance until a fitting time. And now that time was come; for, to add a sting to Juno’s hate, a boy, Arcas, had been born of her rival. Whereto when she turned her angry mind and her angry eyes, “See there!” She cried, “nothing was left, adultress, than to breed a son, and publish my wrong by his birth, a living witness to my lord’s shame. But thou shalt suffer for it. Yea, for I will take away thy beauty wherewith thou dost delight thyself, forward girl, and him who is my husband.” So saying, she caught her by the hair full in front and flung her face-formost to the ground. And when the girl stretched out her arms in prayer for mercy, her arms began to grow rough with black shaggy hair; her hands changed into feet tipped with sharp claws; and her lips, which but now Jove had praised, were changed to broad, ugly jaws , and, that she might not move him with entreating prayers, her power of speech was taken from her, and only a harsh, terrifying growl came hoarsely from her throat. Still her human feelings remained, though she was now a bear; with constant moanings she shows her grief, stretches up such hands as are left her to the heavens, and, though she cannot speak, still feels the ingratitude of Jove. Ah, how often, not daring to lie down in the lonely woods, she wandered before her home and in the fields that had once been hers! How often was she driven over the rocky ways by the baying of hounds and, huntress though she was, fled in affright before the hunters! Often she hid at sight of the wild beasts, forgetting what she was; and, though herself a bear, shuddered at sight of other bears which she saw on the mountain-slopes. She even feared the wolves, although her own father, Lycaon, ran with the pack.
And now Arcas, Lycaon’s grandson, had reached his fifteenth year, ignorant of his mother’s plight. While he was hunting the wild beasts, seeking out their favourite haunts, hemming the Arcadian woods with his close-wrought nets, he chanced upon his mother, who stopped still at sight of Arcas,
erum Merkel; enim MSS.