haec mihi confesso, laesum prius ulta pudorem,
redditur et dulces concorditer exigit annos;
dat mihi praeterea, tamquam se parva dedisset
dona, canem munus; quem cum sua traderet illi
Cynthia, “currendo superabit” dixerat “omnes.” 755
dat simul et iaculum, manibus quod, cernis, habemus.
muneris alterius quae sit fortuna, requiris?
accipe mirandum: novitate movebere facti!
‘Carmina Laiades non intellecta priorum
solverat ingeniis, et praecipitata iacebat 760
inmemor ambagum vates obscura suarum:
protinus Aoniis inmittitur altera Thebis 763
[scilicet alma Themis nec talia linquit inulta!] 762
pestis, et exitio multi pecorumque suoque 764
rurigenae pavere feram; vicina iuventus
venimus et latos indagine cinximus agros.
illa levi velox superabat retia saltu
summaque transibat postarum lina plagarum:
copula detrahitur canibus, quas illa sequentes
effugit et coetum non segnior alite ludit. 770
poscor et ipse meum consensu Laelapa magno
(muneris hoc nomen): iamdudum vincula pugnat
exuere ipse sibi colloque morantia tendit.
vix bene missus erat, nec iam poteramus, ubi esset,
scire; pedum calidus vestigia pulvis habebat, 775
ipse oculis ereptus erat: non ocior illo
hasta nec excussae contorto verbere glandes
nec Gortyniaco calamus levis exit ab arcu.
collis apex medii subiectis inminet arvis:
tollor eo capioque novi spectacula cursus, 780
quo modo deprendi, modo se subducere ab ipso
vulnere visa fera est; nec limite callida recto
in spatiumque fugit, sed decipit ora sequentis
et redit in gyrum, ne sit suus inpetus hosti:
inminet hic sequiturque parem similisque tenenti 785
non tenet et vanos exercet in aera morsus.
ad iaculi vertebar opem; quod dextera librat
dum mea, dum digitos amentis addere tempto,
lumina deflexi. revocataque rursus eodem
rettuleram: medio (mirum) duo marmora campo 790
adspicio; fugere hoc, illud captare putares.
scilicet invictos ambo certamine cursus
esse deus voluit, si quis deus adfuit illis.’
hactenus, et tacuit; ‘iaculo quod crimen in ipso est?’
Phocus ait; iaculi sic crimina reddidit ille: 795
‘Gaudia principium nostri sunt, Phoce, doloris:
illa prius referam. iuvat o meminisse beati
temporis, Aeacide, quo primos rite per annos
coniuge eram felix, felix erat illa marito.
mutua cura duos et amor socialis habebat, 800
nec Iovis illa meo thalamos praeferret amori,
nec me quae caperet, non si Venus ipsa veniret,
ulla erat; aequales urebant pectora flammae.
sole fere radiis feriente cacumina primis
venatum in silvas iuvenaliter ire solebam 805
nec mecum famuli nec equi nec naribus acres
ire canes nec lina sequi nodosa solebant:
tutus eram iaculo; sed cum satiata ferinae
dextera caedis erat, repetebam frigus et umbras
et quae de gelidis exibat vallibus aura: 810
aura petebatur medio mihi lenis in aestu,
auram exspectabam, requies erat illa labori.
“aura” (recordor enim), “venias” cantare solebam,
“meque iuves intresque sinus, gratissima, nostros,
utque facis, relevare velis, quibus urimur, aestus!” 815
forsitan addiderim (sic me mea fata trahebant),
blanditias plures et “tu mihi magna voluptas”
dicere sim solitus, “tu me reficisque fovesque,
tu facis, ut silvas, ut amem loca sola: meoque
spiritus iste tuus semper captatur ab ore.” 820
vocibus ambiguis deceptam praebuit aurem
nescio quis nomenque aurae tam saepe vocatum
esse putat nymphae: nympham mihi credit amari.
criminis extemplo ficti temerarius index
Procrin adit linguaque refert audita susurra. 825
credula res amor est: subito conlapsa dolore,
ut mihi narratur, cecidit; longoque refecta
tempore se miseram, se fati dixit iniqui
deque fide questa est et crimine concita vano,
quod nihil est, metuit, metuit sine corpore nomen 830
et dolet infelix veluti de paelice vera.
saepe tamen dubitat speratque miserrima falli
indiciique fidem negat et, nisi viderit ipsa,
damnatura sui non est delicta mariti.
postera depulerant Aurorae lumina noctem: 835
egredior silvamque peto victorque per herbas
“aura, veni” dixi “nostroque medere labori!”
et subito gemitus inter mea verba videbar
nescio quos audisse; “veni” tamen “optima!” dicens
fronde levem rursus strepitum faciente caduca 840
sum ratus esse feram telumque volatile misi:
Procris erat medioque tenens in pectore vulnus
“ei mihi” conclamat! vox est ubi cognita fidae
coniugis, ad vocem praeceps amensque cucurri.
semianimem et sparsas foedantem sanguine vestes 845
et sua (me miserum!) de vulnere dona trahentem
invenio corpusque meo mihi carius ulnis
mollibus attollo scissaque a pectore veste
vulnera saeva ligo conorque inhibere cruorem
neu me morte sua sceleratum deserat, oro. 850
viribus illa carens et iam moribunda coegit
haec se pauca loqui: “per nostri foedera lecti
perque deos supplex oro superosque meosque,
per si quid merui de te bene perque manentem
nunc quoque, cum pereo, causam mihi mortis amorem, 855
ne thalamis Auram patiare innubere nostris!”
dixit, et errorem tum denique nominis esse
et sensi et docui. sed quid docuisse iuvabat?
labitur, et parvae fugiunt cum sanguine vires,
dumque aliquid spectare potest, me spectat et in me 860
infelicem animam nostroque exhalat in ore;
sed vultu meliore mori secura videtur.’
Flentibus haec lacrimans heros memorabat, et ecce
Aeacus ingreditur duplici cum prole novoque
milite; quem Cephalus cum fortibus accipit armis.
When I had made this confession and she had sufficiently avenged her outraged feelings, she came back to me and we spent sweet years together in harmony. She gave me besides, as though she had given but small gifts in herself, a wonderful hound which her own Cynthia had and said as she given, and said as she gave: ‘He will surpass all other hounds in speed.’ She gave me a javelin also, this one which, as you see, I hold in my hands. Would you know the story of both gifts? Hear the wonderful story: you will be moved by the strangeness of the deed.
“Oedipus, the son of Laius, had solved the riddle which had been inscrutable to the understanding of all before; fallen headlong she lay, the dark prophet, forgetful of her own riddle. Straightway a second monster was sent against Aonian Thebes (and surely kind Themis does not let such things go unpunished!) and many country dwellers were in terror of the fierce creature, fearing both for their own and their flocks’ destruction. We, the neighbouring youths, came and encircled the broad fields with our hunting:- nets. But that swift beast leaped over the nets, over the very tops of the toils which we had spread. Then we let slip our hounds from the leash; but she escaped their pursuit and mocked the hundred dogs with speed like any bird. Then all the hunters called upon me for my Laelaps (that is the name of the hound my wife had given me). Long since he had been struggling to get loose from the leash and straining his neck against the strap that held him. Scarce was he well released when we could not tell where he was. The warm dust kept the imprint of his feet, he himself had quite disappeared from sight. No spear is swifter than he, nor leaden bullets thrown by a whirled sling, or the light reed shot from a Gortynian bow. There was a high hill near by, whose top overlooked the surrounding plain. Thither I climbed and gained a view of that strange chase, in which the beast seemed now to be caught and now to slip from the dog’s very teeth. Nor does the cunning creature flee in a straight course off into the distance, but it eludes the pursuer’s jaws and wheels sharply round, so that its enemy may lose his spring. The dog presses him hard, follows him step for step, and, while he seems to hold him, does not hold, and snaps at the empty air. I turned to my javelin’s aid. As my right hand was balancing it, while I was fitting my fingers into the loop, I turned my eyes aside for a single moment; and when I turned them back again to the same spot—oh, wonderful! I saw two marble images in the plain; the one you would think was fleeing, the other catching at the prey. Doubtless some god must have willed, if there was any god with them, that both should be unconquered in their race." Thus far he spoke and fell silent. "But what charge have you to bring against the javelin itself?" asked Phocus. The other thus told what charge he has against the javelin:
“My joys, Phocus, were the beginning of my woe. These I will describe first. Oh, what a joy it is, son of Aeacus, to remember the blessed time when during those first years I was happy in my wife, as I should be, and she was happy in her husband. Mutual cares and mutual love bound us together. Not Jove’s love would she have preferred to mine; nor was there any woman who could lure me away from her, no, not if Venus herself should come. An equal passion burned in both our two hearts. In the early morning, when the sun’s first rays touched the tops of the hills, with a young man’s eagerness I used to go hunting in the woods. Nor did I take attendants with me, or horses or keen-scented dogs or knotted nets. I was safe with my javelin. But when my hand had had its fill of slaughter of wild creatures, I would come back to the cool shade and the breeze that came forth from the cool valleys. I wooed the breeze, blowing gently on me in my heat; the breeze I waited for. She was my labour’s rest.
‘Come, Aura,’ I remember I used to cry, ‘come soothe me; come into my breast, most welcome one, and, as indeed you do, relieve the heat with which I burn.’ Perhaps I would add, for so my fates drew me on, more endearments, and say: ‘Thou art my greatest joy; thou dost refresh and comfort me; thou makest me to love the woods and solitary places. It is ever my joy to feel thy breath upon my face.’ Some one overhearing these words was deceived by their double meaning; and, thinking that the word ‘Aura’ so often on my lips was a nymph’s name, was convinced that I was in love with some nymph. Straightway the rash tell-tale went to Procris with the story of my supposed unfaithful- ness and reported in whispers what he had heard. A credulous thing is love. Smitten with sudden pain (as I heard the story), she fell down in a swoon. Reviving at last, she called herself wretched, victim of cruel fate; complained of my unfaithfulness, and, excited by an empty charge, she feared a mere nothing, feared an empty name and grieved, poor girl, as over a real rival. And yet she would often doubt and hope in her depth of misery that she was mistaken; she refused to believe the story she had heard, and, unless she saw it with her own eyes, would not think her husband guilty of such sin. The next morning, when the early dawn had banished night, I left the house and sought the woods; there, successful, as I lay on the grass, I cried: ‘Come, Aura, come and soothe my toil’—and suddenly, while I was speaking, I thought I heard a groan. ‘Come, dearest one,’ I cried again. And as the fallen leaves made a slight rustling sound, I thought it was some beast and hurled my javelin at the place. It was Procris, and, clutching at the wound in her breast, she cried, ‘Oh, woe is me.’ When I recognized the voice of my faithful wife, I rushed headlong towards the sound, beside myself with horror. There I found her dying, her disordered garments stained with blood, and oh, the pity! trying to draw the very weapon she had given me from her wounded breast. With loving arms I raised her body, dearer to me than my own, tore open the garment from her breast and bound up the cruel wound, and tried to staunch the blood, praying that she would not leave me stainedC with her death. She, though strength failed her, with a dying effort forced herself to say these few words: ‘By the union of our love, by the gods above and my own gods, by all that I have done for you, and by the love that still I bear you in my dying hour, the cause of my own death, I beg you, do not let this Aura take my place.’ And then I knew at last that it was a mistake in the name, and I told her the truth. But what availed then the telling? She fell back in my arms and her last faint strength fled with her blood. So long as she could look at anything she looked at me and breathed out her unhappy spirit on my lips. But she seemed to die content and with a happy look upon her face.”
This story the hero told with many tears. And now Aeacus came in with his two sons and his new levied band of soldiers, which Cephalus received with their valiant arms.