Metamorphoses XIV.365-482
Macareus finishes his tale of his year with Circe; Aeneas and Turnus both vie for the hand of the daughter of Latinus.
concipit illa preces et verba venefica dicit 365
ignotosque deos ignoto carmine adorat,
quo solet et niveae vultum confundere Lunae
et patrio capiti bibulas subtexere nubes.
tum quoque cantato densetur carmine caelum
et nebulas exhalat humus, caecisque vagantur 370
limitibus comites, et abest custodia regis.
nacta locum tempusque ‘per o, tua lumina,’ dixit
‘quae mea ceperunt, perque hanc, pulcherrime, formam,
quae facit, ut supplex tibi sim dea, consule nostris
ignibus et socerum, qui pervidet omnia, Solem 375
accipe nec durus Titanida despice Circen.’
dixerat; ille ferox ipsamque precesque repellit
et ‘quaecumque es,’ ait ‘non sum tuus; altera captum
me tenet et teneat per longum, conprecor, aevum,
nec Venere externa socialia foedera laedam, 380
dum mihi Ianigenam servabunt fata Canentem.’
saepe retemptatis precibus Titania frustra
‘non inpune feres, neque’ ait ‘reddere Canenti,
laesaque quid faciat, quid amans, quid femina, disces
rebus; at est et amans et laesa et femina Circe!’ 385
tum bis ad occasus, bis se convertit ad ortus,
ter iuvenem baculo tetigit, tria carmina dixit.
ille fugit, sed se solito velocius ipse
currere miratur: pennas in corpore vidit,
seque novam subito Latiis accedere silvis 390
indignatus avem duro fera robora rostro
figit et iratus longis dat vulnera ramis;
purpureum chlamydis pennae traxere colorem;
fibula quod fuerat vestemque momorderat aurum,
pluma fit, et fulvo cervix praecingitur auro, 395
nec quicquam antiquum Pico nisi nomina restat.
‘“Interea comites, clamato saepe per agros
nequiquam Pico nullaque in parte reperto,
inveniunt Circen (nam iam tenuaverat auras
passaque erat nebulas ventis ac sole recludi) 400
criminibusque premunt veris regemque reposcunt
vimque ferunt saevisque parant incessere telis:
illa nocens spargit virus sucosque veneni
et Noctem Noctisque deos Ereboque Chaoque
convocat et longis Hecaten ululatibus orat. 405
exsiluere loco (dictu mirabile) silvae,
ingemuitque solum, vincinaque palluit arbor,
sparsaque sanguineis maduerunt pabula guttis,
et lapides visi mugitus edere raucos
et latrare canes et humus serpentibus atris 410
squalere et tenues animae volitare silentum:
attonitum monstris vulgus pavet; illa paventis
ora venenata tetigit mirantia virga,
cuius ab attactu variarum monstra ferarum
in iuvenes veniunt: nulli sua mansit imago. 415
‘“Sparserat occiduus Tartessia litora Phoebus,
et frustra coniunx oculis animoque Canentis
exspectatus erat: famuli populusque per omnes
discurrunt silvas atque obvia lumina portant;
nec satis est nymphae flere et lacerare capillos 420
et dare plangorem (facit haec tamen omnia) seque
proripit ac Latios errat vesana per agros.
sex illam noctes, totidem redeuntia solis
lumina viderunt inopem somnique cibique
per iuga, per valles, qua fors ducebat, euntem; 425
ultimus adspexit Thybris luctuque viaque
fessam et iam longa ponentem corpora ripa.
illic cum lacrimis ipso modulata dolore
verba sono tenui maerens fundebat, ut olim
carmina iam moriens canit exequialia cycnus; 430
luctibus extremum tenues liquefacta medullas
tabuit inque leves paulatim evanuit auras,
fama tamen signata loco est, quem rite Canentem
nomine de nymphae veteres dixere Camenae.”
‘Talia multa mihi longum narrata per annum 435
visaque sunt. resides et desuetudine tardi
rursus inire fretum, rursus dare vela iubemur,
ancipitesque vias et iter Titania vastum
dixerat et saevi restare pericula ponti:
pertimui, fateor, nactusque hoc litus adhaesi.’ 440
Finierat Macareus, urnaque Aeneia nutrix
condita marmorea tumulo breve carmen habebat
hic : me : caietam : notae : pietatis : alumnus
ereptam : argolico : quo : debuit : igne : cremavit
solvitur herboso religatus ab aggere funis, 445
et procul insidias infamataeque relinquunt
tecta deae lucosque petunt, ubi nubilus umbra
in mare cum flava prorumpit Thybris harena;
Faunigenaeque domo potitur nataque Latini,
non sine Marte tamen. bellum cum gente feroci 450
suscipitur, pactaque furit pro coniuge Turnus.
concurrit Latio Tyrrhenia tota, diuque
ardua sollicitis victoria quaeritur armis.
auget uterque suas externo robore vires,
et multi Rutulos, multi Troiana tuentur 455
castra, neque Aeneas Euandri ad moenia frustra,
at Venulus frustra profugi Diomedis ad urbem
venerat: ille quidem sub Iapyge maxima Dauno
moenia condiderat dotaliaque arva tenebat;
sed Venulus Turni postquam mandata peregit 460
auxiliumque petit, vires Aetolius heros
excusat: nec se aut soceri committere pugnae
velle sui populos, aut quos e gente suorum
armet habere ullos, ‘neve haec commenta putetis,
admonitu quamquam luctus renoventur amari, 465
perpetiar memorare tamen. postquam alta cremata est
Ilios, et Danaas paverunt Pergama flammas,
Naryciusque heros, a virgine virgine rapta,
quam meruit poenam solus, digessit in omnes,
spargimur et ventis inimica per aequora rapti 470
fulmina, noctem, imbres, iram caelique marisque
perpetimur Danai cumulumque Capherea cladis,
neve morer referens tristes ex ordine casus,
Graecia tum potuit Priamo quoque flenda videri.
me tamen armiferae servatum cura Minervae 475
fluctibus eripuit, patriis sed rursus ab agris
pellor, et antiquo memores de vulnere poenas
exigit alma Venus, tantosque per alta labores
aequora sustinui, tantos terrestribus armis,
ut mihi felices sint illi saepe vocati, 480
quos communis hiems inportunusque Caphereus
mersit aquis, vellemque horum pars una fuissem.
She turned to the framing of prayers and fell to muttering incantations, worshipping her weird gods with a weird charm with which it was her wont to obscure the white moon’s features, and hide her father’s face behind misty clouds. Now also by her magic song the heaveus are darkened, and thick fogs spring up from the ground, while the retainers wander in the dim trails far from their king’s defence. Having secured a fitting place and time, she says: “Oh, by those eyes which have enthralled my own, and by that beauty, fairest of youths, which has made even me, a goddess, suppliant to you, look with favour on my passion and accept the Sun, who beholds all things, as your father-in-law; and do not cruelly reject Circe, the Titaness.” But he fiercely repelled her and her prayers, and said: “Whoever you are, I am not for you. Another has taken and holds my love in keeping, and I pray that she may keep it through all coming time. Nor will I violate my plighted troth by any other love so long as the fates shall preserve to me my Canens, Janus’ daughter.” Having tried oft-repeated prayers in vain, the Titaness exclaimed: “But you shall not go scathless, nor shall your Canens ever have you more; and you shall learn by experience how one who is scorned and a lover and a woman can repay; and Circe is a lover, scorned, and a woman!” Then twice she turned her to the west and twice to the east; thrice she touched the youth with her wand and thrice she sang her charms. He turned in flight, but was amazed to find himself running more swiftly than his wont, and saw wings spring out upon his body. Enraged at his sudden change to a strange bird in his Latian woods, he pecked at the rough oak-trees with his hard beak and wrathfully inflicted wounds on their long branches. His wings took the colour of his bright red mantle, and what had been a brooch of gold stuck through his robe was changed to feathers, and his neck was circled with a golden-yellow band; and naught of his former self remained to Picus except his name.
“‘Meanwhile his companions, calling often and vainly for Picus throughout the countryside and finding him nowhere, came upon Circe (for now she had cleared the air and had permitted the clouds to be dispelled by wind and sun), charged her flatly with her crime, demanded back their king with threats of force, and were preparing to attack her with their deadly spears. But she sprinkled upon them her baleful drugs and poisonous juices, summoning to her aid Night and the gods of Night from Erebus and Chaos, and calling on Hecate in long-drawn, wailing cries. The woods, wonderful to say, leaped from their place, the ground rumbled, the neighbouring trees turned white, and the herbage where her poisons fell was stained with clots of blood. The stones also seemed to voice hoarse bellowings; the baying of dogs was heard, the ground was foul with dark, crawling things, and the thin shades of the silent dead seemed to be flitting about. The astounded crowd quaked at the monstrous sights and sounds; but she touched the frightened, wondering faces with her magic wand, and at the touch horrid, beast-like forms of many shapes came upon the youths, and none kept his proper form.
“‘Now the setting sun had bathed the Tartessian shores, and vainly had Canens watched for her lord’s return with eyes and heart. Her slaves and her people scattered through all the woods, bearing torches in hope to meet him. Nor was the nymph content to weep, to tear her hair and beat her breasts; (all these she did, indeed) and, rushing forth, she wandered madly through the Latian fields. Six nights and as many returning dawns beheld her wandering, sleepless and fasting, over hills, through valleys, wherever chance directed. The Tiber was the last to see her, spent with grief and travel-toil, laying her body down upon his far-stretching bank. There, with tears, in weak, faint tones, she poured out her mournful words attuned to grief; just as sometimes, in dying, the swan sings a last funeral-song. Finally, worn to a shade by woe, her very marrow changed to water, she melted away and gradually vanished into thin air. Still her story has been kept in remembrance by the place which ancient muses fitly called Canens from the name of the nymph.’
“Many such things I heard and saw during a long year. At length, grown sluggish and slow through inactivity, we were ordered to go again upon the sea and spread our sails. The Titaness had told us of the dubious pathways of the sea, their vast extent, and all the desperate perils yet to come. I own I was afraid to face them and, having reached this shore, I stayed behind.”
Macareus had finished his story; and Aeneas’ nurse, buried in a marble urn, had a brief epitaph carved on her tomb:
Here me, Caieta, snatched from grecian flames, My pious son consumed with fitting fire.
Loosing their cables from the grass-grown shore, they kept far out from the treacherous island, the home of the ill-famed goddess, and headed for the wooded coast where shady Tiber pours forth his yellow, silt laden waters into the sea. There did Aeneas win the daughter and the throne of Latinus, Faunus’ son; but not without a struggle. War with a fierce race is waged, and Turnus fights madly for his promised bride. All Etruria rushes to battle-shock with Latium, and with long and anxious struggle hard victory is sought. Both sides augment their strength by outside aid; and many defend the Rutuli and many the Trojan camp. Aeneas had not gone in vain to Evander’s home, but Venulus had vainly sought the city of the exiled Diomede. He had founded a large city1 within Iapygian Daunus’ realm, and was ruling the fields granted to him as a marriage portion. But when Venulus had done Turnus’ bidding and asked for aid, the Aetolian hero pleaded his lack of resources as his excuse, saying that he was not willing to expose himself or his father-in-law’s people to the risk of battle, nor did he have men of his own nation whom he might equip for war. “And, that you may not think my excuses false, although the very mention of my woes renews my bitter grief, still will I endure the telling of them. After high Ilium had been burned and Pergama had glutted the furious passions of the Greeks; and after the Narycian hero2 from a virgin goddess3 for a violated virgin had brought on us all the punishment which he alone deserved, we Greeks were scattered and, blown by winds over the angry waters, we suffered lightning blasts, thick darkness, storms, the rage of sky and sea and Caphereus, the climax of our disasters. Not to delay you by telling our sad mishaps in order, Greece at that time could have moved even Priam’s tears. Well-armed Minerva’s care, however, saved me from the waves; but again I was driven forth from my native fields, for fostering Venus, still mindful of the old wound I had given her, now exacted the penalty. So great toils did I endure on the high seas and so great toils of war on land that often did I call those blessed of heaven whom the storm, which all had suffered, and cruel Caphereus drowned beneath the waves; and I wished that I, too, had been one of them.
Arpi.
Ajax, the son of Oileus, who violated Cassandra.
Minerva.