Metamorphoses XI.229-345
Peleus forces his will on Thetis to beget Achilles; King Ceyx tells Peleus of the tragedies that befell his niece and brother.
Est sinus Haemoniae curvos falcatus in arcus,
bracchia procurrunt: ubi, si foret altior unda, 230
portus erat; summis inductum est aequor harenis;
litus habet solidum, quod nec vestigia servet
nec remoretur iter nec opertum pendeat alga;
myrtea silva subest bicoloribus obsita bacis.
est specus in medio, natura factus an arte, 235
ambiguum, magis arte tamen: quo saepe venire
frenato delphine sedens, Theti, nuda solebas.
illic te Peleus, ut somno vincta iacebas,
occupat, et quoniam precibus temptata repugnas,
vim parat, innectens ambobus colla lacertis; 240
quod nisi venisses variatis saepe figuris
ad solitas artes, auso foret ille potitus;
sed modo tu volucris: volucrem tamen ille tenebat;
nunc gravis arbor eras: haerebat in arbore Peleus;
tertia forma fuit maculosae tigridis: illa 245
territus Aeacides a corpore bracchia solvit.
inde deos pelagi vino super aequora fuso
et pecoris fibris et fumo turis adorat,
donec Carpathius medio de gurgite vates
‘Aeacide,’ dixit ‘thalamis potiere petitis, 250
tu modo, cum rigido sopita quiescet in antro,
ignaram laqueis vincloque innecte tenaci.
nec te decipiat centum mentita figuras,
sed preme, quicquid erit, dum, quod fuit ante, reformet.’
dixerat haec Proteus et condidit aequore vultum 255
admisitque suos in verba novissima fluctus.
Pronus erat Titan inclinatoque tenebat
Hesperium temone fretum, cum pulchra relicto
Nereis ingreditur consueta cubilia ponto;
vix bene virgineos Peleus invaserat artus: 260
illa novat formas, donec sua membra teneri
sentit et in partes diversas bracchia tendi.
tum denum ingemuit, ‘ne’ que ait ‘sine numine vincis’
exhibita estque Thetis: confessam amplectitur heros
et potitur votis ingentique inplet Achille. 265
Felix et nato, felix et coniuge Peleus,
et cui, si demas iugulati crimina Phoci,
omnia contigerant: fraterno sanguine sontem
expulsumque domo patria Trachinia tellus
accipit. hic regnum sine vi, sine caede gerebat 270
Lucifero genitore satus patriumque nitorem
ore ferens Ceyx, illo qui tempore maestus
dissimilisque sui fratrem lugebat ademptum.
quo postquam Aeacides fessus curaque viaque
venit et intravit paucis comitantibus urbem, 275
quosque greges pecorum, quae secum armenta trahebat,
haut procul a muris sub opaca valle reliquit;
copia cum facta est adeundi prima tyranni,
velamenta manu praetendens supplice, qui sit
quoque satus, memorat, tantum sua crimina celat 280
mentiturque fugae causam; petit, urbe vel agro
se iuvet. hunc contra placido Trachinius ore
talibus adloquitur: ‘mediae quoque commoda plebi
nostra patent, Peleu, nec inhospita regna tenemus;
adicis huic animo momenta potentia, clarum 285
nomen avumque Iovem; ne tempora perde precando!
quod petis, omne feres tuaque haec pro parte vocato,
qualiacumque vides! utinam meliora videres!’
et flebat: moveat tantos quae causa dolores,
Peleusque comitesque rogant; quibus ille profatur: 290
‘forsitan hanc volucrem, rapto quae vivit et omnes
terret aves, semper pennas habuisse putetis:
vir fuit (et—tanta est animi constantia—iam tum
acer erat belloque ferox ad vimque paratus)
nomine Daedalion. illo genitore creatis, 295
qui vocat Auroram caeloque novissimus exit,
culta mihi pax est, pacis mihi cura tenendae
coniugiique fuit, fratri fera bella placebant:
illius virtus reges gentesque subegit,
quae nunc Thisbaeas agitat mutata columbas. 300
nata erat huic Chione, quae dotatissima forma
mille procos habuit, bis septem nubilis annis.
forte revertentes Phoebus Maiaque creatus,
ille suis Delphis, hic vertice Cyllenaeo,
videre hanc pariter, pariter traxere colorem. 305
spem veneris differt in tempora noctis Apollo;
non fert ille moras virgaque movente soporem
virginis os tangit: tactu iacet illa potenti
vimque dei patitur; nox caelum sparserat astris:
Phoebus anum simulat praereptaque gaudia sumit. 310
ut sua maturus conplevit tempora venter,
alipedis de stirpe dei versuta propago
nascitur Autolycus furtum ingeniosus ad omne,
candida de nigris et de candentibus atra
qui facere adsuerat, patriae non degener artis; 315
nascitur e Phoebo (namque est enixa gemellos)
carmine vocali clarus citharaque Philammon.
quid peperisse duos et dis placuisse duobus
et forti genitore et progenitore nitenti
esse satam prodest? an obest quoque gloria multis? 320
obfuit huic certe! quae se praeferre Dianae
sustinuit faciemque deae culpavit, at illi
ira ferox mota est “factis” que “placebimus” inquit.
nec mora, curvavit cornu nervoque sagittam
inpulit et meritam traiecit harundine linguam. 325
lingua tacet, nec vox temptataque verba sequuntur,
conantemque loqui cum sanguine vita reliquit;
quam miser amplexans ego tum patriumque dolorem
corde tuli fratrique pio solacia dixi,
quae pater haut aliter quam cautes murmura ponti 330
accipit et natam delamentatur ademptam;
ut vero ardentem vidit, quater impetus illi
in medios fuit ire rogos, quater inde repulsus
concita membra fugae mandat similisque iuvenco
spicula crabronum pressa cervice gerenti, 335
qua via nulla, ruit. iam tum mihi currere visus
plus homine est, alasque pedes sumpsisse putares.
effugit ergo omnes veloxque cupidine leti
vertice Parnasi potitur; miseratus Apollo,
cum se Daedalion saxo misisset ab alto, 340
fecit avem et subitis pendentem sustulit alis
oraque adunca dedit, curvos dedit unguibus hamos,
virtutem antiquam, maiores corpore vires,
et nunc accipiter, nulli satis aequus, in omnes
saevit aves aliisque dolens fit causa dolendi.’ 345
There is a bay on the Thessalian coast, curved like a sickle into two bays with arms running out; ’twould be a safe port for ships if the water were deeper. The sea spreads smooth over the sandy bottom; the shore is firm, such as leaves no trace of feet, delays no journey, is free from seaweed. A myrtle wood grows close at hand, thick-hung with two-coloured berries. There is a grotto in this grove, whether made by nature or art one may not surely say, but rather by art. To this grot oftentimes, riding thy bridled dolphin, O Thetis, naked wast thou wont to come. There then did Peleus seize thee as thou layest wrapped in slumber; and since, though entreated by his prayers, thou didst refuse, he prepared to force thy will, entwining thy neck with both his arms. And hadst thou not, by changing oft thy form, had recourse to thine accustomed arts, he would have worked his daring will on thee. But now didst thou take the form of a bird: still he held fast to the bird. Now wast thou a sturdy tree: around the tree did Peleus tightly cling. Thy third disguise was a spotted tigress’ form: in fear of that Peleus loosed his hold on thee. Then did he pray unto the gods of the sea with wine poured out upon the water, with entrails of sheep, and with the smoke of incense; until the Carpathian seer from his deep pools rose and said to him: “O son of Aeacus, thou shalt yet gain the bride thou dest desire. Only do thou, when she lies within the rocky cave, deep sunk in sleep, bind her in her unconsciousness with snares and close-clinging thongs. And though she take a hundred lying forms, let her not escape thee, but hold her close, whatever she may be, until she take again the form she had at first.” So spoke Proteus and hid his face beneath the waves, as he let his waters flow back again over his final words.
Now Titan was sinking low and kept the western sea beneath his down-sloping chariot, when the fair Nereid abandons the sea and comes home to her accustomed couch. There scarce had Peleus well laid hold on her virgin limbs, when she began to assume new forms, until she perceived that she was held firmly bound and that her arms were pinioned wide. Then at length she groaned and said: “’Tis not without some god’s assistance that you conquer,” and gave herself up as Thetis. Her, thus owning her defeat, the hero caught in his embrace, attained his desire, and begat on her the great Achilles.
Peleus was blessed in his son, blessed in his wife, and to him only good befell, if you except the crime of the murdered Phocus. Driven from his father’s house with his brother’s blood upon his hands, he found asylum in the land of Trachin. Here ruled in peaceful, bloodless sway Ceyx, son of Lucifer, with all his father’s bright gladness in his face. But at that time he was sad and unlike himself, for he was mourning the taking off of his brother. To him the son of Aeacus came, worn with his cares and journeyings, and entered his city with but a few retainers following. He left the flocks of sheep and the cattle which he had brought with him in a shady vale not far from the city’s walls; then, when first he was allowed to approach the monarch, stretching out with suppliant hand an olive-branch wound with woollen fillets, he told him who he was and from what father sprung. He concealed only his crime, and lied concerning the reason for his flight. He begged for a chance to support himself in city or in field. To him the Trachinian monarch with kind words replied: “The opportunities of our realm lie open, Peleus, even to humble folk, and we do not rule an inhospitable kingdom. To this our kindly disposition you add the strong incentive of an illustrious name and descent from Jove. Then waste no time in prayer. You shall have all you seek. Take your share in all, such as it is; and I wish it were better!” He spoke and wept. When Peleus and his companions asked him the cause of his great grief, he answered them: “Perchance you think that yonder bird, which lives on rapine and is the terror of all birds, was always a feathered creature. He was once a man (and, so fixed is character, was even then noted for harshness, eagerness for war, readiness for violence), by name Daedalion. We two were born of that god who wakes the dawn and passes last from the sky. I was by nature peaceful and my care was always for preserving peace and for my wife. But cruel war was my brother’s pleasure. His fierce courage subdued kings and nations, and now in changed form it pursues the doves of Thisbe.1 He had a daughter, Chione, a girl most richly dowered with beauty, who had a thousand suitors when she had reached the marriageable age of fourteen years. It chanced that Phoebus and the son of Maia, returning the one from Delphi, the other from high Cyllene, beheld her both at once and both at once were filled with love of her. Apollo put off his hope of love till night-time, but the other brooked no delay, and touched the maiden’s face with his sleep-compelling wand. She lay beneath the god’s magic touch and endured his violence. Now night had spangled the heavens with the stars when Phoebus, assuming an old woman’s form, gained his forestalled joy. When the fullness of time was come, a son was born to the wing-footed god, Autolycus, of crafty nature, well versed in cunning wiles. For he could make white of black and black of white, a worthy heir of his father’s art. To Phoebus also, for the birth was twin, was born Philammon, famous for song and zither. But what profits it that she bore two sons, that she found favour with two gods, that she herself was sprung from a brave sire and shining grandsire? Is not glory also a bane to many? At any rate it has surely been a bane to her! For she boldly set herself above Diana and criticized the goddess’ beauty. But to her the goddess, moved by hot rage, exclaimed: ‘Then by our deeds we’ll please you.’ Upon the word she bent her bow, sent an arrow swift flying from the string, and pierced that guilty tongue with the shaft. The tongue was stilled, nor voice nor attempted words came more. Even as she tried to speak her life fled forth with her blood. Wretched, I embraced her, feeling her father’s grief in my heart, and to my dear brother I spoke words of comfort. The father heard them as the crags hear the murmurs of the sea, and kept ever bewailing his lost child. But when he saw her burning, four times he made to rush into the blazing pile. Four times thrust back, he took to mad flight and, like a bullock whose neck is pierced by hornets’ stings, over trackless ways he rushed. Even then he seemed to me to run faster than human powers allow, and you would have thought his feet had taken wings. So then he fled us all and quickly, bent on destruction, he gained Parnasus’ top. Apollo, pitying him, when Daedalion had hurled himself from that high cliff, made him a bird, held him suspended there on sudden wings, and gave him a hooked beak, gave him curved claws, but he left him his old-time courage and strength greater than his body. And now as a hawk, friendly to none, he vents his cruel rage on all birds and, suffering himself, makes others suffer, too.”
A little town on the coast of Boeotia, famous for its wild doves.