 | Lays and Legends of Ancient Greece, with Other Poems |  |
40
BELLEROPHON.
This famous Corinthian legend has also become, in a manner, the property of the British nation, by the labours of Sir Charles Fellowes, and the existence of a “Xanthian Chamber” in the British Museum. Ephyre is the old name for Corinth. That Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, should appear as the special protector of a homicide, will appear strange to no thinker; for, in those wild days of imperfect and partial law, feuds were always arising, and murders everywhere committed, and Furies invoked and feared by persons of the most reputable character. The scenery of the pass of Tretus, as given in p. 42, will be found described in Colonel Mure's two admirable volumes, entitled a Tour in Greece. The purification from the guilt of manslaughter by blood of swine (p.43), is according to the well known tradition of the ancient poets. On Xanthus, its topography and antiquities, besides the works of Sir Charles Fellows, the reader may consult the two volumes of travels in Lycia, by the late Professor Edward Forbes, and Colonel Spratt.
“Ος τας οφιωδεος υιον ποτε Γοργονος
η πολλ' αμφι κρουνοις
Παγασον ζευξαι ποθεων επαθεν
Πριν γε οι χρυσαμπυκα κουρα χαλινον
Παλλας ηνεγκε.”
—Pindar.
η πολλ' αμφι κρουνοις
Παγασον ζευξαι ποθεων επαθεν
Πριν γε οι χρυσαμπυκα κουρα χαλινον
Παλλας ηνεγκε.”
—Pindar.
“Αλλ οτε δη και κεινος απηχθετο πασι θεοισιν
ητοι ο καπ πεδιον το Αληιον οιος αλατο
ον θυμον κατεδων πατον ανθρωπων αλεεινων.”
—Homer.
ητοι ο καπ πεδιον το Αληιον οιος αλατο
ον θυμον κατεδων πατον ανθρωπων αλεεινων.”
—Homer.
I.
The sun shines bright on Ephyré's height,And right and left, with billowy might,
Poseidon rules the sea;
But not the Sun that rules above,
Nor strong Poseidon, nor great Jove,
Can look with looks of favouring love,
Bellerophon, on thee.
41
Of hell pursue thy path;
Nor they within rich Corinth's bounds
Shall slack their vengeful wrath.
Black broods the sky above thy head,
The Earth breeds serpents at thy tread,
The Furies' foot hath found thee;
A baleful pest their presence brings,
A curse to peasants and to kings;
The horrid shadow of their wings
Turns day to darkness round thee.
Flee o'er the Argive hills, and there,
With suppliant branch and pious prayer,
Thou shalt not crave in vain
Some prince, whose hands not worthless hold
The sceptre of Phoroneus old,
To wash thee clean, and make thee bold
To look on men again.
II.
Darkly the Nemean forests frown,Where Apesantian Jove
42
On the Ogygian grove.
Fierce roars the lion from his den
In Tretus' long and narrow glen;
And many a lawless man
Here by the stony water-bed
Lists the lone traveller's errant tread,
And wakes the plundering clan.
Here be thy flight, Bellerophon,
But danger fear thou none;
For she, the warlike and the wise,
Jove's blue-eyed daughter from surprise
Secure shall lead thee on.
He flees: and, where the priestess bears
To Hera on the hill
The sacred keys, he pours his prayers,
And drinks the scanty rill.
He flees: and now before his eye,
With wall and gate and bulwark high,
And many a tower that fronts the sky,
And many a covered way,
Strong Tiryns stands, whose massy blocks
Were torn by Cyclops from the rocks,
And piled in vast array.
43
The suppliant flings his jaded strength,
Before a friendly door;
And now from hot pursuit secure,
And from blood-guiltiness made pure,
His heart shall fear no more.
III.
The princely Prœtus opes his gate,And on the fugitive's dark fate
Smiles gracious; him from fear,
And terror of the scourge divine,
He purifies with blood of swine
And sprinkled water clear.
O blessed was the calm that now
Lulled his racked brain, and smoothed his brow!
Nor wildly now did roll
His sleepless eyes; from gracious Jove
Came down the gentle dew of love,
That soothed his wounded soul.
And grateful was the face of man
To heart now free from Furies' ban,
And sweet the festive lyre.
44
Spread forth in beautiful array,
To move the heart's desire.
Each manly sport and social game
Thrilled with new joy his re-strung frame,
And waked the living fire.
Antéa saw him poise the dart,
In the fleet race the foremost start,
And lawless Venus smote her heart—
She loved her lord no more:
As no chaste woman sues she sued,
Her guest the partial hostess wooed,
And lavished beauty's store
Of looks and smiles, and pleading tears,
And silvery words; but he reveres
The rights of hospitable Jove,
Chastely repels her perilous love,
Nor hears her parley more.
IV.
Who slights a woman's love cuts deep,And wakes a brood of snakes that sleep
Beneath a bed of roses.
45
To earthly Venus vows a vow,
And in her heart proposes
A fiendish thing. She, with the pin
That bound her peplos, pierced the skin
Of her smooth-rounded arm;
And when the crimson stream began
To trickle down, she instant ran,
And with a feigned alarm
Roused all her maids, and in the ear
Of the fond Prœtus, quick to hear,
She poured the piteous lie,
That the false guest had sought to move
Her loyal-mated heart with love,
And with rude hands had dared assail
Her virtue, cased in surer mail
Than Dian's panoply:
Then, more to stir his wrathful mood,
She bared her arm that streamed with blood,
And scared his jealous eye.
Hot boiled his Argive heart; his eyes
Flash vengeance; but himself denies
The reins to his own spleen.
His public face in smiles is dressed,
46
And tells the tale, and plies the jest,
With easy social mien;
And to his high Corinthian guest
Lets not a thought be seen.
“Take here,” quoth he, “thou high-souled knight,
To Iobates the Lycian wight,
The brother of my queen,
These tablets; he will honour thee
Even more than I; and thou shalt see
A famous and a fruitful land,
With all Apollo's beauty bland,
And various leafage green.”
Uprose the knight with willing feet,
His heart was light, his pace was fleet;
Girt for the road and venture bold,
He left the strong Tirynthian hold,
And gaily wends his way
O'er steep Arachne's ridge, till he
Passed Æsculapius' sacred fane,
That sendeth health, and healeth pain,
And reached, with foot untired, the sea
That beats with billows bounding free
The Epidaurian bay.
47
V.
Thoughtful a moment here he stood,And watched the never-sleeping flood,
The ever-changing wave;
He knew no danger, feared no foes,
But from his heart a prayer uprose
To her that guards the brave.
Wise prayer; for scarce the words are gone
From thy free mouth, Bellerophon,
When, struck with holy awe,
Even at thy side, in light arrayed,
Serene with placid power displayed,
The chaste Athenian Jove-born maid
Thy wondering vision saw;
And in her hand—O strangest sight!—
A winged steed she led,
That bent the knee before the knight,
And bowed its lofty head.
“Fear not, thou son of Æolus' race,
Dear to the gods art thou;
This steed, by strong Poseidon's mace
That leapt to life, through airy space
Shall safely waft thee now.”
48
And with the word, dissolved in air,
Was seen no more. The knight
Brushed from his eyes the dazzling glare,
And scarce believed his sight.
But, when he saw the steed was there,
He winged to Heaven a rapid prayer,
And for the airy flight
Buckled his purpose. Mounted now
With rapid wheel he soars,
O'er creek and crag, and rocky brow,
And swift-receding shores.
A lovely sight was there, I trow,
Where high on winged oars
He clove the pathless air. The sea,
With various-twinkling brilliancy,
Immense before him lay,
With many a coast far-stretching seen,
And many a high-cliffed isle between,
And many a winding bay.
High o'er Œnone's isle he sails,
Where Æacus' justest law prevails,
And masted armies ride;
O'er rocky Sunium's pillar'd steep,
49
He swept with airy pride.
Ceos and Syros wondering saw
His meteor-steed with humble awe;
And sacred Delos deemed
Apollo's self, the fervid god
His own etherial regions trod,
And with such brightness gleamed.
Swift o'er the Bacchic isle he glides,
Where music mingles with the tides
From many a Mænad throat.
And nigh to Caria's craggy shore,
Cos with her blushing winy store
His sweeping view can note.
Anon, sublime he soars above
Thy temple, Atabyrian Jove,
The lord of cloudless Rhodes,
Where Telchins wise, with busy clamour,
Who shape the steel beneath the hammer,
Possess their famed abodes:
And swiftly then he swoops, I ween,
Down on the steeps of Cragus green,
Into the pleasant plain,
Where Xanthus rolls his yellow stream,
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The Patarean plain.
Here he alights. His heavenly steed,
With instant eye-out-stripping speed,
Scorning the earthly loam,
Wheels eastward far with vans sonorous,
And o'er the rosy peaks of Taurus
Sails to his starry home.
VI.
The Xanthian gate is wide and free;The Xanthian towers are high;
The Xanthian streets are fair to see;
The knight, with wondering eye,
Beholds, and enters. To the king
A ready troop the stranger bring,
And scan him o'er and o'er;
Curious that one so bright and trim,
And with such light unwearied limb,
Had reached the Lycian shore.
With kindly heart the Xanthian lord
Opes his high hall and spreads his board,
And pours the Coan wine;
51
To all a questless courtesy)
Till days were numbered nine.
His tablets then the knight presents;
The monarch scans their dire contents,
For here 'twas written plainly,
“If thou dost hate who works amiss,
Let not his hand that beareth this
Have sinned against me vainly;
Thy Prœtus.” Sore vexed was the king
That he must do a bloody thing,
Against so brave a guest;
But vows were strong, and family bonds;
Therefore, composed, he thus responds—
“Brave knight, a fearful pest
Afflicts this land: a monster dire,
With terror armed, and breathing fire,
In Cragus holds her den,
Chimera named: with savage jaw
She bites, and with voracious maw
Consumes both beasts and men.
This hideous form its birth did take
From hoar Echidna, virgin-snake;
She to that fiery blaster,
52
A triform goatish portent bore,
With serpent's sting and lion's roar,
This Lycian land's disaster.
Harmless at first, for sport 'twas bred
By Caria's thoughtless king,
And by his innocent children led
Obedient to a string.
Anon its hellish blood grew hot;
It breathed a breath of fire,
And tainted every household spot
With gouts of poison dire.
Full grown at length, and fierce and bold,
She ranges freely through each fold,
And licks the fleecy slaughter;
And, when her humour waxes wild,
No flesh she spares of man or child,
Echidna's gory daughter.
Now hear me, noble Glaucus' son,
Most valiant knight, Bellerophon;
Thou hast a face that seems to court
A dangerous business as a sport—
This thing I ask thee then;
Wilt thou go forth, and dare to tame
53
And win thyself a deathless name
Among the Xanthian men?”
VII.
Thus he—(for in his heart he thoughtSuch venture must with life be bought).
But brave Bellerophon
Guileless received the guileful plan,
And, as an eager-purposed man,
Buckled his armour on.
Alone he went: of such emprise
With this bold-breasted stranger
No one shall share, a herald cries,
The glory or the danger.
By Xanthus' stream he wends him then,
And leftward up the hollow glen,
Where Pandarus' city, like a tower,
Rises begirt with rocky power;
Then upward still he goes,
Where black-browed mountains round him lower,
And, 'neath chill winter's grisly bower,
The sunless water flows.
54
A yawning cave his eye beheld,
High-perched; and to that cave no trace
Of road upon the mountain's face,
But, like an eagle's nest,
Sublime it hung. He looked again,
And from the cave a tawny mane
Shook o'er the rocky crest;
And now a lion's head forth came,
And now, O Heaven! long tongues of flame
Ran wreathing round the hill.
No fear the son of Glaucus knew,
But pricked his forward will,
The rock-perched monster to pursue:
On right, on left, he sought a clue
To thread that steep-faced hill;
Hour after hour no pause he knew;
When night came down with sable hue,
It found him searching still.
Hid in the tangled brakes around
Next morn a rugged chasm he found,
That oped into an archway wide,
Right through the hollow mountain side;
Here plunged the knight; and then
55
Along a rocky ledge, that leads
To dire Chimera's den.
The monster hears his coming tread,
And with a hideous roar
Trails forth its length, and shows its head
And mouth that dripped with gore.
The brave knight drew his sword, and flew
Like lightning on the foe,
And on its hide of horny pride
Dealt ringing blow on blow.
In vain; that hide, Bellerophon,
Dipt in the flood of Acheron,
Is proof at every pore;
And where thy steel doth vainly hack,
A goat's head rising on its back
With living fire streams o'er;
And from behind, a serpent's tail,
With many mouths that hisses,
Rears round about thee like a flail,
To give thee poisoned kisses.
The flame, the smoke, the sulphurous breath
Doth choke thy mortal life;
56
Can grow from such a strife.
Backward the flame-scorched hero sped,
And as he went, upon his tread
The roaring Terror came.
Along the ridge, so sharp and jaggy,
Huge-limb'd it strode, horrid and shaggy,
And swathed with sevenfold flame.
Down through the archway opening wide,
Far through the hollow mountain-side,
It drove him wrathful on;
Then through the black jaws of the rock
It hurled him with a furious shock,
And heaved a huge sharp stone
Blocking the rift. There in the vale,
Scarcely with life, all scorched and pale,
Was left Bellerophon.
VIII.
The evening dew was clear and cold:Upon the harsh ungrateful mould,
Lay stiff and stark the hero bold,
Thorough the dreamless night;
57
Shot o'er the cliff its crimson ray,
With aching frame as low he lay,
Sleep seized the weary knight—
A blissful sleep; for, when the sense
Was bound with blindness most intense,
With sharp-eyed soul he saw,
Ev'n at his side, in light arrayed,
Serene with placid power displayed,
The chaste Athenian Jove-born maid,
And worshipped her with awe;
And in her hand—a well-known sight—
The winged steed she led,
That bent the knee before the knight,
And bowed its lofty head.
Raptured he woke; with sense now clear
He saw the heavenly maid,
And in her hand a massive spear,
Firm-planted, she displayed;
And thus she spoke:“Ephyrian knight,
Dear to the gods art thou,
Not vainly did thy prayer invite
My aid, to wing thy airy flight
To Cragus' rocky brow.
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If thou hast wisely planned,
Fear not; the steed doth wait the rider,
The spear doth claim the hand.
That snake-born monster's horny hide,
That was not made to feel,
May never yield life's crimson tide
To sharpest Rhodian steel:
But with this spear from Vulcan's forge,
Right through the mouth in the deep gorge
If thou shalt pierce it, then
This dire Chimera breathing flame,
Thou with a hero's hand shalt tame,
And win thyself a glorious name,
Among the Xanthian men.”
Upstood the knight, with hope elate,
And felt the aching pain abate
From all his sore-bruised limbs;
The wingèd steed he straight bestrode,
And to Chimera's black abode
Through liquid air he swims.
The deep-mouthed Terror 'gan to bray,
The forky fire-tongues 'gan to play,
The fretful serpents hissed dismay
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But, with direct and eager speed,
The rider and the heavenly steed
Rushed to achieve the fearless deed,
At glorious danger's call.
The knight, with curious eye, did note
The centre of the roaring throat,
And while it gaped with gory jaws
To thunder fear around,
Forward he rode—nor any pause,
But right into Chimera's gorge
He drove the spear from Vulcan's forge,
And fixed it in the ground.
Up from the back the fell goat's head
Rose, rough with swelling ire,
And right and left long tongues were spread
Of forky-flaming fire;
But with immortal strength the steed
Flaps his huge vans around,
And straight the eager spires recede,
And harmless lick the ground.
Cowed lie the snakes, and, with quick eye,
A tender place the knight did spy,
Where the neck joined the back;
60
And through the fount of living flame
He cuts with fierce attack.
Down dropt the goat's head in its gore,
And with a sharp and brazen roar
The writhing lion dies.
The palsied snakes, with stiffened fang,
Like lifeless leaves unconscious hang;
And belching rivers of black gore
Upon the clotted rocky floor
The smoking carcass lies.
IX.
A famous man was Glaucus' sonThen when Chimera died;
In Lycian land like him was none
In glory and in pride.
At public feast beside the king
He sate; him did the minstrel sing
With various-woven lays;
And old men in the halls were gay,
61
And eager boys would cease their play
To sound the hero's praise.
The Xanthian burghers, wealthy men,
Chose the best acres in the glen
Beside the fattening river—
Acres where best or corn would grow,
Or vines with clustered purple glow,
These, free from burden they bestow
On Glaucus' son for ever.
The Xanthian king, to Prœtus bound,
For other dangers looks around,
And finds, but finds in vain.
'Gainst the stout Solymi to fight
He sent the brave Ephyrian knight,
And hoped he might be slain;
But from the stiff embrace of Mars
He soon returned, and showed his scars,
To glad the Xanthian plain.
A Lycian army then he led
Against the maids unhusbanded,
Where surly Pontus roars.
Before his spear the Amazon yields;
The breastless host, with moonèd shields,
62
He drove to Colchian shores.
The Xanthian king despairs the strife—
“Let Prœtus fight for Prœtus' wife;
Not I will tempt the charméd life
Of valiant Glaucus' son!”
Nor more against the gods he strives,
But with free hand his daughter gives
To brave Bellerophon.
X.
A prosperous man was Glaucus' sonThen when the queenly maid he won,
The pride of Lycian land:
The Lycian lords obey his nod,
The people hail him as a god,
And own his high command.
Fearless he lived without annoy,
Plucking the bloom of every joy;
For still, to help his need,
Jove's blue-eyed daughter, when he prayed,
Was present with her heavenly aid,
And lent the wingèd steed.
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Beyond the bounds of earth to fly
Impious he weened, and scale the sky,
And sit with Jove sublime.
Upward and northward far he sails,
O'er Carian crags and Phrygian vales,
And blest Mæonia's clime.
The orient breezes round him blowing
He feels; with light the ether glowing;
And from the planets in their going
He lists the sphery chime.
Bursts far Olympus on his view
Snowy, with gleams of rosy hue;
And round the heavenly halls,
All radiant with immortal blue,
The golden battlements he knew,
And adamantine walls.
And on the walls, with dizzy awe,
Full many a shapely form he saw
Of stately grace divine:
The furious Mars with terror crested,
Poseidon's power the mighty-breasted,
That rules the billowy brine;
And, linked with golden Aphrodite,
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Grace matched with skill he sees;
And one that in his airy hand
Displayed a serpent-twisted wand,
And floated on the breeze,
Both capped and shod with wings; and one
That lay in sumptuous ease
On pillowed clouds, fair Semele's son,
And quaffed the nectar'd bowl;
And one from whom the locks unshorn
Flowed like ripe fields of Autumn corn,
And beaming brightness, like the morn,
Shower'd radiance on the pole;
And matron Juno's awful face;
And Dian, mistress of the chase;
And Pallas, that with eye of blue
Now sternly meets the hero's view
Whom erst she met with love;
And, like a star of purer ray,
Apart, whom all the gods obey,
The thunder-launching Jove.
The ravishment of such fair sight
Thrilled sense and soul with quick delight
To bold Bellerophon;
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Struck with the brightness, checked its speed,
Nor more would venture on.
Deaf to the eager rider's call,
Who spurred to mount the Olympian wall,
It stood like lifeless stone
A moment-then, with sudden wheel,
And headlong plunge, it 'gan to reel;
For awful now were heard to peal
Sharp thunders from the pole,
And lightnings flashed, and darkly spread
O'er that rash rider's impious head
The sulphurous clouds did roll.
With rapid gust the fiery storm
Resistless whirled his quaking form
Down through the choking air.
Loud and more loud the thunders swell;
Him with blind speed the winds impel;
Three times three days and nights he fell
Down through the choking air.
At length, in mazy terror lost,
Him the celestial courser tossed
With fiercely-fretted mane;
And, by the close-involving blast
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On the Aleian plain.
XI.
Senseless, but lifeless not, he lay.The gods had mercy shown
If they had slain, on that black day,
The blasted Glaucus' son:
But all the gods conspired to hate
The man, with impious pride elate,
Who dared to scale the sky.
Year after year, from that black day,
He pined his meagre life away,
Weak as a cloud or vapour grey,
And vainly wished to die.
On a wide waste, without a tree,
The unfrequent traveller there might see
The once great Glaucus' son.
Far from the haunts and from the tread
Of men, a joyless life he led;
On folly's fruitage there he fed,
Dejected and alone.
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Would sit and gaze into a pool
The blank Bellerophon;
Or to bring forth the blindworm red
That, creeping, loves a lightless bed,
Would turn the old grey stone.
And thus he lived, and thus he died,
And ended to the brute allied,
Who like a god began;
And he hath gained a mournful fame,
And marred immortal praise with blame,
And taught to whoso names his name,
Pride was not made for man!
| Lays and Legends of Ancient Greece, with Other Poems | |