Metamorphoses VI.204-312
Apollo and Diana punish the impertinent Niobe on behalf of their mother
Indignata dea est summoque in vertice Cynthi
talibus est dictis gemina cum prole locuta: 205
‘en ego vestra parens, vobis animosa creatis,
et nisi Iunoni nulli cessura dearum,
an dea sim, dubitor perque omnia saecula cultis
arceor, o nati, nisi vos succurritis, aris.
nec dolor hic solus; diro convicia facto 210
Tantalis adiecit vosque est postponere natis
ausa suis et me, quod in ipsam reccidat, orbam
dixit et exhibuit linguam scelerata paternam.’
adiectura preces erat his Latona relatis:
‘desine!’ Phoebus ait, ‘poenae mora longa querella est!’ 215
dixit idem Phoebe, celerique per aera lapsu
contigerant tecti Cadmeida nubibus arcem.
Planus erat lateque patens prope moenia campus,
adsiduis pulsatus equis, ubi turba rotarum
duraque mollierat subiectas ungula glaebas. 220
pars ibi de septem genitis Amphione fortes
conscendunt in equos Tyrioque rubentia suco
terga premunt auroque graves moderantur habenas.
e quibus Ismenus, qui matri sarcina quondam
prima suae fuerat, dum certum flectit in orbem 225
quadripedis cursus spumantiaque ora coercet,
‘ei mihi!’ conclamat medioque in pectore fixa
tela gerit frenisque manu moriente remissis
in latus a dextro paulatim defluit armo.
proximus audito sonitu per inane pharetrae 230
frena dabat Sipylus, veluti cum praescius imbris
nube fugit visa pendentiaque undique rector
carbasa deducit, ne qua levis effluat aura:
frena tamen dantem non evitabile telum
consequitur, summaque tremens cervice sagitta 235
haesit, et exstabat nudum de gutture ferrum;
ille, ut erat, pronus per crura admissa iubasque
volvitur et calido tellurem sanguine foedat.
Phaedimus infelix et aviti nominis heres
Tantalus, ut solito finem inposuere labori, 240
transierant ad opus nitidae iuvenale palaestrae;
et iam contulerant arto luctantia nexu
pectora pectoribus, cum tento concita nervo,
sicut erant iuncti, traiecit utrumque sagitta.
ingemuere simul, simul incurvata dolore 245
membra solo posuere, simul suprema iacentes
lumina versarunt, animam simul exhalarunt.
adspicit Alphenor laniataque pectora plangens
advolat, ut gelidos conplexibus adlevet artus,
inque pio cadit officio; nam Delius illi 250
intima fatifero rupit praecordia ferro.
quod simul eductum est, pars et pulmonis in hamis
eruta cumque anima cruor est effusus in auras.
at non intonsum simplex Damasicthona vulnus
adficit: ictus erat, qua crus esse incipit et qua 255
mollia nervosus facit internodia poples.
dumque manu temptat trahere exitiabile telum,
altera per iugulum pennis tenus acta sagitta est.
expulit hanc sanguis seque eiaculatus in altum
emicat et longe terebrata prosilit aura. 260
ultimus Ilioneus non profectura precando
bracchia sustulerat ‘di’ que ‘o communiter omnes,’
dixerat ignarus non omnes esse rogandos
‘parcite!’ motus erat, cum iam revocabile telum
non fuit, arcitenens; minimo tamen occidit ille 265
vulnere, non alte percusso corde sagitta.
Fama mali populique dolor lacrimaeque suorum
tam subitae matrem certam fecere ruinae,
mirantem potuisse irascentemque, quod ausi
hoc essent superi, quod tantum iuris haberent; 270
nam pater Amphion ferro per pectus adacto
finierat moriens pariter cum luce dolorem.
heu! quantum haec Niobe Niobe distabat ab illa,
quae modo Latois populum submoverat aris
et mediam tulerat gressus resupina per urbem 275
invidiosa suis; at nunc miseranda vel hosti!
corporibus gelidis incumbit et ordine nullo
oscula dispensat natos suprema per omnes;
a quibus ad caelum liventia bracchia tollens
‘pascere, crudelis, nostro, Latona, dolore, 280
pascere’ ait ‘satiaque meo tua pectora luctu!
[corque ferum satia!’ dixit. ‘per funera septem]1
efferor: exsulta victrixque inimica triumpha!
cur autem victrix? miserae mihi plura supersunt,
quam tibi felici; post tot quoque funera vinco!’ 285
Dixerat, et sonuit contento nervus ab arcu;
qui praeter Nioben unam conterruit omnes:
illa malo est audax. stabant cum vestibus atris
ante toros fratrum demisso crine sorores;
e quibus una trahens haerentia viscere tela 290
inposito fratri moribunda relanguit ore;
altera solari miseram conata parentem
conticuit subito duplicataque vulnere caeco est.
[oraque compressit, nisi postquam spiritus ibat]2
haec frustra fugiens collabitur, illa sorori 295
inmoritur; latet haec, illam trepidare videres.
sexque datis leto diversaque vulnera passis
ultima restabat; quam toto corpore mater,
tota veste tegens ‘unam minimamque relinque!
de multis minimam posco’ clamavit ‘et unam.’ 300
dumque rogat, pro qua rogat, occidit: orba resedit
exanimes inter natos natasque virumque
deriguitque malis; nullos movet aura capillos,
in vultu color est sine sanguine, lumina maestis
stant inmota genis, nihil est in imagine vivum. 305
ipsa quoque interius cum duro lingua palato
congelat, et venae desistunt posse moveri;
nec flecti cervix nec bracchia reddere motus
nec pes ire potest; intra quoque viscera saxum est.
flet tamen et validi circumdata turbine venti 310
in patriam rapta est: ibi fixa cacumine montis
liquitur, et lacrimas etiam nunc marmora manant.
The goddess was angry, and on the top of Cynthus she thus addressed Apollo and Diana: “Lo, I, your mother, proud of your birth and willing to yield place to no goddess save Juno only, I have had my divinity called in question; and through all coming ages I shall be denied worship at the altar, unless you, my children, come to my aid. Nor is this my only cause for resentment. This daughter of Tantalus has added insult to her injuries: she has dared to prefer her own children to you, and has called me childless—may that fall on her head!—and by her impious speech has displayed her father’s unbridled tongue.” To this story other wrongs Latona would have added prayers but here Phoebus cried “Have done! a long complaint is but delay of punishment!” Phoebe said the same. Then, swiftly gliding through the air, they alighted on Cadmus’ citadel, covered in clouds.
There was a broad and level plain near the walls, beaten by the constant tread of horses, where a host of wheels and the hard hoof had levelled the clods beneath them. There some of Amphion’s seven sons mounted their strong horses, sitting firm on their backs bright with Tyrian purple, and guided them with rich gold-mounted bridles. While one of these, Ismenus, who was his mother’s first-born son, was guiding his charger’s course round the curving track and pulling hard on the foaming bit, “Ah me!” he cried, and, with an arrow fixed in his breast, he dropped the reins from his dying hands and slowly sank sidewise down to the earth over his horse’s right shoulder. Next, hearing through the void air the sound of the rattling quiver, Sipylus gave full rein; as when a shipmaster, conscious of an approaching storm, flees at the sight of a cloud and crowds on all sail that he may catch each passing breeze. He gave full rein, and as he gave it the arrow that none may escape overtook him, and the shaft stuck quivering in his neck; while the iron point showed from his throat in front. He, leaning forward, as he was, pitched over the galloping horse’s mane and legs, and stained the ground with his warm blood. Unhappy Phaedimus and Tantalus, who bore his grandsire’s name, when they had finished their wonted task had passed to the youthful exercise of the shining wrestling-match. And now they were straining together, breast to breast, in close embrace, when an arrow, sped from the drawn bow, pierced them both just as they stood clasped together. They groaned together; together they fell writhing in pain to the ground; together as they lay they moved their dying eyes; together they breathed their last. Alphenor saw them die, and beating his breast in agony, he ran to lift up their cold bodies in his arms; and in this pious duty he fell; for Apollo pierced him through the midriff with death-dealing steel. When this was removed, a piece of his lungs was drawn out sticking to the barbs, and his life-blood came rushing forth into the air. But one wound was not all that pierced youthful Damasichthon. He was struck where the lower leg just begins, and where the sinews of the hough give a soft spot; and while he was trying to draw out the fatal shaft with his hand, a second arrow was driven clear to the feathers through his throat. The blood drove it forth and gushing out spurted high in air in a long, slender stream. Ilioneus was the last; stretching out his arms in prayer doomed to be vain, he cried: “Oh, spare me, all ye gods,” not knowing that he need not pray to them all. The archer-god was moved to pity, but too late to recall his shaft. Still the youth fell smitten by a slight wound only, since the arrow did not deeply pierce his heart.
Rumour of the trouble, the people’s grief, and the tears of her own friends informed the mother of this sudden disaster, amazed that it could have happened, and angry because the gods had dared so far, that they should have such power; for the father, Amphion, had already driven a dagger through his heart, and so in dying had ended his grief and life together. Alas, how different now was this Niobe from that Niobe who had but now driven the people from Latona’s altar, and had walked proudly through the city streets, enviable then to her friends, but now one for even her enemies to pity. She threw herself upon the cold bodies of her sons, wildly giving the last kisses to them all. From them she lifted her bruised arms to high heaven and cried: “Feed now upon my grief, cruel Latona, feed and glut your heart on my sorrow. Yes, glut your bloodthirsty heart! In my seven sons have I suffered sevenfold death. Exult, and triumph in your hateful victory. But why victory? In my misery I still have more than you in your felicity. After so many deaths, I triumph still!”
She spoke, and the taut bowstring twanged, which terrified all save Niobe alone; misery made her bold. The sisters were standing about their brothers’ biers, with loosened hair and robed in black. One of these, while drawing out the shaft fixed in a brother’s vitals, sank down with her face upon him, fainting and dying. A second, attempting to console her grieving mother, ceased suddenly, and was bent in agony by an unseen wound. She closed her lips till her dying breath had passed. One fell while trying in vain to flee. Another died upon her sister; one hid, and one stood trembling in full view. And now six had suffered various wounds and died; the last remained. The mother, covering her with her crouching body and her sheltering robes, cried out: “Oh, leave me one, the littlest! Of all my many children, the littlest I beg you spare—just one!” And even while she prayed, she for whom she prayed fell dead. Now does the childless mother sit down amid the lifeless bodies of her sons, her daughters, and her husband, in stony grief. Her hair stirs not in the breeze; her face is pale and bloodless, and her eyes are fixed and staring in her sad face. There is nothing alive in the picture. Her very tongue is silent, frozen to her mouth’s roof, and her veins can move no longer; her neck cannot bend nor her arms move nor her feet go. Within also her vitals are stone. But still she weeps; and, caught up in a strong, whirling wind, she is rapt away to her own native land. There, set on a mountain’s peak, she weeps; and even to this day tears trickle from the marble.
Line 282 bracketed by Ehwald
Line 294 bracketed by Ehwald