Metamorphoses VII.627-750
Aeacus finishes the story of the arrival of the Myrmidons; Cephalus begins to tell Phocus how he came by his unusual spear.
dum numerum miror, “totidem, pater optime,” dixi,
“tu mihi da cives et inania moenia supple!”
intremuit ramisque sonum sine flamine motis
alta dedit quercus: pavido mihi membra timore 630
horruerant, stabantque comae; tamen oscula terrae
roboribusque dedi, nec me sperare fatebar;
sperabam tamen atque animo mea vota fovebam.
nox subit, et curis exercita corpora somnus
occupat: ante oculos eadem mihi quercus adesse 635
et ramis totidem totidemque animalia ramis
ferre suis visa est pariterque tremescere motu
graniferumque agmen subiectis spargere in arvis;
crescere desubito et maius maiusque videri
ac se tollere humo rectoque adsistere trunco 640
et maciem numerumque pedum nigrumque colorem
ponere et humanam membris inducere formam.
somnus abit: damno vigilans mea visa querorque
in superis opis esse nihil; at in aedibus ingens
murmur erat, vocesque hominum exaudire videbar 645
iam mihi desuetas; dum suspicor has quoque somni
esse, venit Telamon properus foribusque reclusis
“speque fideque, pater”, dixit “maiora videbis:
egredere!” egredior, qualesque in imagine somni
visus eram vidisse viros, ex ordine tales 650
adspicio noscoque: adeunt regemque salutant.
vota Iovi solvo populisque recentibus urbem
partior et vacuos priscis cultoribus agros,
Myrmidonasque voco nec origine nomina fraudo.
corpora vidisti; mores, quos ante gerebant, 655
nunc quoque habent: parcum genus est patiensque laborum
quaesitique tenax et quod quaesita reservet.
hi te ad bella pares annis animisque sequentur,
cum primum qui te feliciter attulit eurus’
(eurus enim attulerat) ‘fuerit mutatus in austrum.’ 660
Talibus atque aliis longum sermonibus illi
inplevere diem; lucis pars ultima mensae
est data, nox somnis. iubar aureus extulerat Sol,
flabat adhuc eurus redituraque vela tenebat:
ad Cephalum Pallante sati, cui grandior aetas, 665
ad regem Cephalus simul et Pallante creati
conveniunt, sed adhuc regem sopor altus habebat.
excipit Aeacides illos in limine Phocus;
nam Telamon fraterque viros ad bella legebant.
Phocus in interius spatium pulchrosque recessus 670
Cecropidas ducit, cum quis simul ipse resedit.
adspicit Aeoliden ignota ex arbore factum
ferre manu iaculum, cuius fuit aurea cuspis.
pauca prius mediis sermonibus ille locutus
‘sum nemorum studiosus’ ait ‘caedisque ferinae; 675
qua tamen e silva teneas hastile recisum,
iamdudum dubito: certe si fraxinus esset,
fulva colore foret; si cornus, nodus inesset.
unde sit, ignoro, sed non formosius isto
viderunt oculi telum iaculabile nostri.’ 680
excipit Actaeis e fratribus alter et ‘usum
maiorem specie mirabere’ dixit ‘in isto.
consequitur, quodcumque petit, fortunaque missum
non regit, et revolat nullo referente cruentum.’
tum vero iuvenis Nereius omnia quaerit, 685
cur sit et unde datum, quis tanti muneris auctor.
quae petit, ille refert, sed enim narrare pudori est,
qua tulerit mercede; silet tactusque dolore
coniugis amissae lacrimis ita fatur obortis:
‘hoc me, nate dea, (quis possit credere?) telum 690
flere facit facietque diu, si vivere nobis
fata diu dederint; hoc me cum coniuge cara
perdidit: hoc utinam caruissem munere semper!
‘Procris erat, si forte magis pervenit ad aures
Orithyia tuas, raptae soror Orithyiae, 695
si faciem moresque velis conferre duarum,
dignior ipsa rapi! pater hanc mihi iunxit Erectheus,
hanc mihi iunxit amor: felix dicebar eramque;
non ita dis visum est, aut nunc quoque forsitan essem.
alter agebatur post sacra iugalia mensis, 700
cum me cornigeris tendentem retia cervis
vertice de summo semper florentis Hymetti
lutea mane videt pulsis Aurora tenebris
invitumque rapit. liceat mihi vera referre
pace deae: quod sit roseo spectabilis ore, 705
quod teneat lucis, teneat confinia noctis,
nectareis quod alatur aquis, ego Procrin amabam;
pectore Procris erat, Procris mihi semper in ore.
sacra tori coitusque novos thalamosque recentes
primaque deserti referebam foedera lecti: 710
mota dea est et “siste tuas, ingrate, querellas;
Procrin habe!” dixit, “quod si mea provida mens est,
non habuisse voles.” meque illi irata remisit.
cum redeo mecumque deae memorata retracto,
esse metus coepit, ne iura iugalia coniunx 715
non bene servasset: facies aetasque iubebat
credere adulterium, prohibebant credere mores;
sed tamen afueram, sed et haec erat, unde redibam,
criminis exemplum, sed cuncta timemus amantes.
quaerere, quod doleam, statuo donisque pudicam 720
sollicitare fidem; favet huic Aurora timori
inmutatque meam (videor sensisse) figuram.
Palladias ineo non cognoscendus Athenas
ingrediorque domum; culpa domus ipsa carebat
castaque signa dabat dominoque erat anxia rapto: 725
vix aditus per mille dolos ad Erecthida factus.
ut vidi, obstipui meditataque paene reliqui
temptamenta fide; male me, quin vera faterer,
continui, male, quin, et oportuit, oscula ferrem.
tristis erat (sed nulla tamen formosior illa 730
esse potest tristi) desiderioque dolebat
coniugis abrepti: tu collige, qualis in illa,
Phoce, decor fuerit, quam sic dolor ipse decebat!
quid referam, quotiens temptamina nostra pudici
reppulerint mores, quotiens “ego” dixerit “uni 735
servor; ubicumque est, uni mea gaudia servo.”
cui non ista fide satis experientia sano
magna foret? non sum contentus et in mea pugno
vulnera, dum census dare me pro nocte loquendo
muneraque augendo tandem dubitare coegi. 740
exclamo male victor: “adest, mala, fictus adulter!
verus eram coniunx! me, perfida, teste teneris.”
illa nihil; tacito tantummodo victa pudore
insidiosa malo cum coniuge limina fugit;
offensaque mei genus omne perosa virorum 745
montibus errabat, studiis operata Dianae.
tum mihi deserto violentior ignis ad ossa
pervenit: orabam veniam et peccasse fatebar
et potuisse datis simili succumbere culpae
me quoque muneribus, si munera tanta darentur. 750
Wondering at their numbers, I said: ‘O most excellent father, grant thou me just as many subjects, and fill my empty walls.’ The lofty oak trembled and moved its branches, rustling in the windless air. My limbs were horror-smit with quaking fear and my hair stood on end. Yet I kissed the earth and the oak-tree; nor did I own my hopes to myself, and yet I did hope and I cherished my desires within my mind. Night came and sleep claimed our care-worn bodies. Before my eyes the same oak-tree seemed to stand, with just as many branches and with just as many creatures on its branches, to shake with the same motion, and to scatter the grain-bearing column on the ground below. These seemed suddenly to grow larger and ever larger, to raise themselves from the ground and stand with form erect, to throw off their leanness, their many feet, their black colour, and to take on human limbs and a human form. Then sleep departed. Once awake I thought lightly of my vision, bewailing that there was no help in the gods. But there was a great confused noise in the palace, and I seemed to hear the voices of men to which I was long unused. And while I half believed that this also was a trick of sleep, Telamon came running and, throwing open the door, exclaimed: ‘O father, more than you believed or hoped for shall you see. Come out!’ I went without, and there just such men as I had seen in my dream I now saw and recognized with my waking eyes. They approached and greeted me as king. I gave thanks to Jove, and to my new subjects I portioned out my city and my fields, forsaken by their former occupants; and I called them Myrmidons1 nor did I cheat the name of its origin. You have seen their bodies ; the habits which they had before they still keep, a thrifty race, inured to toil, keen in pursuit of gain and keeping what they get. These men will follow you to the wars well matched in years and courage, as soon as the east wind which brought you so fortunately hither”—for the east wind it was that brought him—“shall have changed to the south.”
With such and other talk they filled the lingering day. The last hours of the day were given to feasting, the night to sleep. When the golden sun had shown his light, the east wind was still blowing and kept the sails from the homeward voyage. The sons of Pallas came to Cephalus, who was the older, and Cephalus with the sons of Pallas went together to the king. But deep sleep still held the king. Phocus, son of Aeacus, received them at the threshold; for Telamon and his brother were marshalling the men for war. Into the inner court and beautiful apartments Phocus conducted the Athenians, and there they sat them down together. There Phocus noticed that Cephalus carried in his hand a javelin with a golden head, and a shaft made of some strange wood. After some talk, he said abruptly: “I am devoted to the woods and the hunting of wild beasts. Still, I have for some time been wondering from what wood that weapon you hold is made. Surely if it were of ash it would be of deep yellow hue; if it were of cornel-wood there would be knots upon it. What wood it is made of I cannot tell; but my eyes have never seen a javelin for throwing more beautiful than that.” And one of the Athenian brothers replied: “You will admire the weapon’s use more than its beauty; it goes straight to any mark, and chance does not guide its flight; and it flies back, all bloody, with no hand to bring it.” Then indeed young Phocus was eager to know why it was so, and whence it came, who was the giver of so wonderful a gift. Cephalus told what the youth, asked, but he was ashamed to tell at what price he gained it. He was silent; then, touched with grief φor his lost wife, he burst into tears and said:
“It is this weapon makes me weep, thou son of a goddess—who could believe it?—and long will it make me weep if the fates shall give me long life.
This destroyed me and my dear wife together. And oh, that I had never had it! My wife was Procris, or, if by more likely chance the name of Orithyia has come to your ears, the sister of the ravished Orithyia. If you should compare the form and bearing of the two, Procris herself is the more worthy to be ravished away. It is she that her father, Erechtheus, joined to me; it is she that love joined to me. I was called happy, and happy I was. But the gods decreed it otherwise, or, perchance, I should be happy still. It was in the second month after our marriage rites. I was spreading my nets to catch the antlered deer, when from the top of ever-blooming Hymettus the golden goddess of the dawn, having put the shades to flight, beheld me and carried me away, against my will: may the goddess pardon me for telling the simple truth; but as truly as she shines with the blush of roses on her face, as truly as she holds the portals of the day and night, and drinks the juices of nectar, it was Procris I loved; Procris was in my heart, Procris was ever on my lips. I kept talking of my wedding and its fresh joys of love and the first union of my now deserted couch. The goddess was provoked and exclaimed: ‘Cease your complaints, ungrateful boy; keep your Procris! but, if my mind can foresee at all, you will come to wish that you had never had her’; and in a rage she sent me back to her. As I was going home, and turned over in my mind the goddess’ warning, I began to fear that my wife herself had not kept her marriage vows. Her beauty and her youth made me fear unfaithfulness; but her character forbade that fear. Still, I had been absent long, and she from whom I was returning was herself an example of unfaithfulness; and besides, we lovers fear everything. I decided to make a cause for grievance and to tempt her chaste faith by gifts. Aurora helped me in this jealous undertaking and changed my form; (I seemed to feel the change). And so, unrecognizable I entered Athens, Pallas’ sacred city, and went into my house. The household itself was blameless, showed no sign of aught amiss, was only anxious for its lost lord. With much difficulty and by a thousand wiles I gained the presence of Erechtheus’ daughter; and when I looked upon her my heart failed me and I almost abandoned the test of her fidelity which I had planned. I scarce kept from confessing the truth, from kissing her as was her due. She was sad; but no woman could be more beautiful than was she in her sadness. She was all grief with longing for the husband who had been torn away from her. Imagine, Phocus, how beautiful she was, how that grief itself became her. Why should I tell how often her chastity repelled my temptations? To every plea she said: ‘I keep myself for one alone. Wherever he is I keep my love for one.’ What husband in his senses would not have found that test of her fidelity enough? But I was not content and strove on to my own undoing! By promising to give fortunes for her favour, and at last, by adding to my promised gifts, I forced her to hesitate. Then, victor to my sorrow, I exclaimed: ‘False one, he that is here is a feigned adulterer! I was really your husband! By my own witness, traitress, you are detected! She, not a word. Only in silence, overwhelmed with shame, she fled her treacherous husband and his house. In hate for me, loathing the whole race of men, she wandered over the mountains, devoted to Diana’s pursuits. Then in my loneliness the fire of love burned more fiercely, penetrating to the marrow. I craved pardon, owned that I had sinned, confessed that I too might have yielded in the same way under the temptation of gifts, if so great gifts were offered to me.
Fancifully derived from μύρμηξ an ant.