Orval, or The Fool of Time And Other Imitations and Paraphrases. By Robert Lytton |
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 | Orval, or The Fool of Time |  |
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IMITATIONS AND PARAPHRASES.
287
“Une langue à l'égard d'une autre est un chiffre où les mots sont
changés en mots, et non les lettres en lettres.”—Pascal.
289
NONNOS.
291
EUROPA.
IMITATION.
Sing, O goddess, the thunder-breath, the bearer of lightening
From the luminous son of Kronos, the ardent heralding
Of a bright child-birth,—the glow of a nuptial glory, brightening
The fiery bridal chamber of burning Semele! Sing
The double birth of Bacchus, whom, moist from the midst o' the flame,
Zeus pluckt,—the unripe fruit of a motherhood half unblown:
Father and mother both was the god, by a twofold name,
To him, for whose sweet sake a masculine womb in his own
Self-wounded body he wrought; forgetting not how, of yore,
With the pang divine of another birth, parturient, he
Forth from out of his own bright swollen forehead bore
Full-arm'd the dazzling dread of Athenè issuing free.
Bring, O Muses, to me bring bacchanal wands, and smite
The shaken cymbals shrill, and fetch me the thyrsus spear,
Famed of divine Dionysos! And forthwith unto my sight,
As I mingle your dances among, may the multiform Proteus appear,
Leaving afar by the Pharos his favourite isle, and roll'd
In changes many as be these mystical songs of mine!
For, if like an orbèd dragon his trailing from he fold,
I will sing how, under the ivied spear, in a war divine
The turbulent giants were stricken, they and their dragon hair:
And if, as a bellowing lion, he toss his billowy mane,
Ye, as I sing, shall behold young Bacchus, my boy-god fair,
In the arms of Rhea, snatching the nipple her lion cubs drain:
But, if, in the midst of his manifold metamorphose, anon
Like a fretful leopard he leap, into praise my song shall roll,
Singing how over the gorgeous Ind rode the triumphing son
Of Zeus, when the pard and the elephant pull'd at his chariot pole:
Then, if he should fashion himself to the form of a tuskèd boar,
While he fashions himself, will I fashion my song till its strain be aglow
With the loves of the son of Thyone, and how he wedded of yore
Aura, the daughter of Cybele, Aura, the beautiful foe
Of the tuskèd boars, the mother of that third Bacchus to be:
And again, what time away in a wave of the water he glides,
With divine Dionysos my song shall be plunged in the unplumb'd sea,
As when, from the Thracian's assault, he fled under the nethermost tides:
But if, into the shape of a rustling tree, at the last, he shoot,
While his borrow'd branches murmur, my song shall be heard between,
Praising Icarios, lord of the winepress red when the foot,
With the foot competing, crushes the glad grape bunches green.
Bring to me, O Mimelones, the bacchanal wands, and cover
(Brightly replacing thus this common diurnal vest)
With the fair and spotted fawn skin, fragrantly sprinkled over
By odorous drops of the sweet Maronid nectar, my breast!
Keep ye for Menelaos,—led by Homeros, and her
Whose hidden dwelling is down in the depths of the hollow main,
Eidothea,—keep ye the coarse seal's coat of briny fur,
And bring me the cymbals and buckler. Not mine be the dulcet strain
Of the double-throated fife: lest Phœbos offended be.
For I know he is vext by each vivid pipe's importunate din
Since the challenge of Marsyas; when he in scorn uphung on a tree
The flesh of that felon flay'd, and made of it a puft wine-skin,
To punish his insolent pipe, having peel'd the boaster bare,
And left his bleeding limbs of their brown hide dispossest.
But thou, O goddess, begin! begin, and first declare
The story of Kadmos old, and all his wandering quest.
From the luminous son of Kronos, the ardent heralding
Of a bright child-birth,—the glow of a nuptial glory, brightening
The fiery bridal chamber of burning Semele! Sing
The double birth of Bacchus, whom, moist from the midst o' the flame,
Zeus pluckt,—the unripe fruit of a motherhood half unblown:
Father and mother both was the god, by a twofold name,
To him, for whose sweet sake a masculine womb in his own
Self-wounded body he wrought; forgetting not how, of yore,
With the pang divine of another birth, parturient, he
Forth from out of his own bright swollen forehead bore
Full-arm'd the dazzling dread of Athenè issuing free.
Bring, O Muses, to me bring bacchanal wands, and smite
292
Famed of divine Dionysos! And forthwith unto my sight,
As I mingle your dances among, may the multiform Proteus appear,
Leaving afar by the Pharos his favourite isle, and roll'd
In changes many as be these mystical songs of mine!
For, if like an orbèd dragon his trailing from he fold,
I will sing how, under the ivied spear, in a war divine
The turbulent giants were stricken, they and their dragon hair:
And if, as a bellowing lion, he toss his billowy mane,
Ye, as I sing, shall behold young Bacchus, my boy-god fair,
In the arms of Rhea, snatching the nipple her lion cubs drain:
But, if, in the midst of his manifold metamorphose, anon
Like a fretful leopard he leap, into praise my song shall roll,
Singing how over the gorgeous Ind rode the triumphing son
Of Zeus, when the pard and the elephant pull'd at his chariot pole:
Then, if he should fashion himself to the form of a tuskèd boar,
While he fashions himself, will I fashion my song till its strain be aglow
With the loves of the son of Thyone, and how he wedded of yore
293
Of the tuskèd boars, the mother of that third Bacchus to be:
And again, what time away in a wave of the water he glides,
With divine Dionysos my song shall be plunged in the unplumb'd sea,
As when, from the Thracian's assault, he fled under the nethermost tides:
But if, into the shape of a rustling tree, at the last, he shoot,
While his borrow'd branches murmur, my song shall be heard between,
Praising Icarios, lord of the winepress red when the foot,
With the foot competing, crushes the glad grape bunches green.
Bring to me, O Mimelones, the bacchanal wands, and cover
(Brightly replacing thus this common diurnal vest)
With the fair and spotted fawn skin, fragrantly sprinkled over
By odorous drops of the sweet Maronid nectar, my breast!
Keep ye for Menelaos,—led by Homeros, and her
Whose hidden dwelling is down in the depths of the hollow main,
Eidothea,—keep ye the coarse seal's coat of briny fur,
And bring me the cymbals and buckler. Not mine be the dulcet strain
Of the double-throated fife: lest Phœbos offended be.
For I know he is vext by each vivid pipe's importunate din
294
The flesh of that felon flay'd, and made of it a puft wine-skin,
To punish his insolent pipe, having peel'd the boaster bare,
And left his bleeding limbs of their brown hide dispossest.
But thou, O goddess, begin! begin, and first declare
The story of Kadmos old, and all his wandering quest.
On the beach of Sidon now, bull-shaped, with an upthrust horn,
Zeus from alying throat had sent forth a lovesick lowing,
Softening an ardent eyeball; while, in light bonds upborne,
Round the white limbs of a woman infant Eros was throwing
Intertwinèd hands. For to her his curvèd throat
The mariner bull bends low, down sinking a duteous knee;
And, while o'er his glossy flank the girl's form seems to float,
Bearing Europa, smoothly, silently, saileth he.
Out of the reach of the ripple, though faint with a lovely fear,
She, unmoving, is moved: so, silently, seated high
On the back of a scaly triton, as she on her swimming steer,
Thetis, and Aphroditè, and Galatèa go by.
Kyanochætes admires the cloven-footed swimmer:
Triton afar replies to the gold's insidious lowing,
From his clearly-echoing conch: and, aghast, in the dim green glimmer,
Nereus to Doris turns with a pointed finger, showing
That ravisht maiden fair, that hornèd sailor divine,
Shapes of wonder and awe; for the girl's hand holds the horn
Of her breathing bark, like a helm, as he beats breast-deep the brine,
And the girl's eyes glance o'er the glooming wave with a gaze forlorn,
Desire her pilot is: and the crafty Boreas lifts
And puffs with an amorous breath her grament's floating fold;
Over her bounteous bosom his silken sail he shifts,
And wantons there at his own wild will like a lover bold.
So on a dolphin borne when haply a Nereïd glides
To visit her liquid realms light over the lullèd sea,
At the touch of her guiding hand her seaborn steed divides
With a foamy furrow the fields that his azure pasture be.
Eros, herdsman now for the nonce, with his bow's sharp hook,
Turn'd into a pastoral goad, the mild bull's shoulder smites:
Through Poseidon's liquid fallows while thus, with the shepherd crook
Of Kypris, he the hornèd spouse of Herè excites,
The pure and austere cheek of virgin Pallas (cold maid
That never a mother knew) is flusht with a scornful shame,
Beholding her mighty father, the son of Kronos, wade
In a watery furrow, led by a woman's finger, tame.
But the midsea wave and tide give way to the ardent god;
For was it not down in the midsea deeps that the globèd blue
With the birth of Aphroditè brighten'd and greaten'd and glow'd?
And Europa leads and is led, and is captain and cargo too.
Zeus from alying throat had sent forth a lovesick lowing,
Softening an ardent eyeball; while, in light bonds upborne,
Round the white limbs of a woman infant Eros was throwing
Intertwinèd hands. For to her his curvèd throat
The mariner bull bends low, down sinking a duteous knee;
And, while o'er his glossy flank the girl's form seems to float,
Bearing Europa, smoothly, silently, saileth he.
Out of the reach of the ripple, though faint with a lovely fear,
She, unmoving, is moved: so, silently, seated high
On the back of a scaly triton, as she on her swimming steer,
Thetis, and Aphroditè, and Galatèa go by.
Kyanochætes admires the cloven-footed swimmer:
Triton afar replies to the gold's insidious lowing,
295
Nereus to Doris turns with a pointed finger, showing
That ravisht maiden fair, that hornèd sailor divine,
Shapes of wonder and awe; for the girl's hand holds the horn
Of her breathing bark, like a helm, as he beats breast-deep the brine,
And the girl's eyes glance o'er the glooming wave with a gaze forlorn,
Desire her pilot is: and the crafty Boreas lifts
And puffs with an amorous breath her grament's floating fold;
Over her bounteous bosom his silken sail he shifts,
And wantons there at his own wild will like a lover bold.
So on a dolphin borne when haply a Nereïd glides
To visit her liquid realms light over the lullèd sea,
At the touch of her guiding hand her seaborn steed divides
With a foamy furrow the fields that his azure pasture be.
Eros, herdsman now for the nonce, with his bow's sharp hook,
Turn'd into a pastoral goad, the mild bull's shoulder smites:
Through Poseidon's liquid fallows while thus, with the shepherd crook
Of Kypris, he the hornèd spouse of Herè excites,
The pure and austere cheek of virgin Pallas (cold maid
That never a mother knew) is flusht with a scornful shame,
Beholding her mighty father, the son of Kronos, wade
In a watery furrow, led by a woman's finger, tame.
296
For was it not down in the midsea deeps that the globèd blue
With the birth of Aphroditè brighten'd and greaten'd and glow'd?
And Europa leads and is led, and is captain and cargo too.
297
VIRGIL.
299
THE BEES OF ARISTÆUS.
PARAPHRASE.
The shepherd Aristæus, when his bees
Sickness (so runs the tale) or dearth destroy'd,
Along Peneian Tempe flying, above
The sacred headspring rested sad, and thus,
With much-reproachful moan, his parent call'd:
“Mother Cyrene, who the gulfy deeps
Of this stream holdest! mother, if indeed
Thymbræan Apollo, as thou dost aver,
Be my begetter, why was I begot
To bear the grudge of most unfavouring fates,
Though from the gods' illustrious lineage sprung?
Or whither fleeted is thy sometime love
Of us, whom wherefore didst thou oft exhort
To hope the heaven itself? For now, behold,
Even the poor honour of this mortal life,
By me, endeavouring all things, barely wrung
From tilth and the hard tendance of the herd,
Thou being my mother, I must needs forego!
Haste, therefore, to make end! with thine own hand
Uproot my pleasant woodland places all,
Fall on my sheepfolds with unfriendly fire,
Burn up my barns, my crops exterminate,
And lay the tough axe to my tender vines,
If thou art weary of thy son's renown.”
Sickness (so runs the tale) or dearth destroy'd,
Along Peneian Tempe flying, above
The sacred headspring rested sad, and thus,
With much-reproachful moan, his parent call'd:
“Mother Cyrene, who the gulfy deeps
Of this stream holdest! mother, if indeed
Thymbræan Apollo, as thou dost aver,
Be my begetter, why was I begot
To bear the grudge of most unfavouring fates,
Though from the gods' illustrious lineage sprung?
Or whither fleeted is thy sometime love
Of us, whom wherefore didst thou oft exhort
To hope the heaven itself? For now, behold,
Even the poor honour of this mortal life,
By me, endeavouring all things, barely wrung
From tilth and the hard tendance of the herd,
Thou being my mother, I must needs forego!
300
Uproot my pleasant woodland places all,
Fall on my sheepfolds with unfriendly fire,
Burn up my barns, my crops exterminate,
And lay the tough axe to my tender vines,
If thou art weary of thy son's renown.”
That sound, in halls beneath the waters high,
The mother heard. Around her sat the Nymphs,
Plucking Milesian wools of watchet hue:
Drymo, and Xantho, and Phyllodoce,
With sparkling tresses round their white necks pour'd;
Ligèa, and Nisæa, and Thalìa,
And Spio, and Cymodoce; with whom
Maiden Cydippe, and Lycoria
O' the yellow hair, to whom were newly known
Lucina's earliest labours; Beroë,
And Clio, sister Oceanitides:
Each with gold fillet girt about the brows,
Each garb'd in skins gay-colour'd; and Ephyre,
Opis, and Asian Deiopeïa; and, all
Her darts at last laid by, swift Arethuse.
The mother heard. Around her sat the Nymphs,
Plucking Milesian wools of watchet hue:
Drymo, and Xantho, and Phyllodoce,
With sparkling tresses round their white necks pour'd;
Ligèa, and Nisæa, and Thalìa,
And Spio, and Cymodoce; with whom
Maiden Cydippe, and Lycoria
O' the yellow hair, to whom were newly known
Lucina's earliest labours; Beroë,
And Clio, sister Oceanitides:
Each with gold fillet girt about the brows,
Each garb'd in skins gay-colour'd; and Ephyre,
Opis, and Asian Deiopeïa; and, all
Her darts at last laid by, swift Arethuse.
Among them Clymene the tale was telling
Of Vulcan's frustrate forethought, and the frauds
Of Mars, and his sweet thefts; and all the loves
Full-frequent of the gods, since Chaos was,
She number'd. Taken by whose song, the while
The listening Nymphs around their spindles whirl'd
The fluent threads, yet once again that moan
Of Aristæus struck his mother's ears;
And all those Nymphs upon their glassy seats
Were startled. Foremost of her sisters then,
Above the topmost wave her yellow head
Upheaving, Arethusa glanced around:
And, from aloof, “Not idly scared,” she cried,
“Sister Cyrene, by such moan wert thou;
Whose chiefest care, sad, Aristæus' self,
Stands by the wave of thy Peneian Sire
Weeping, and, by thy name, thee, cruel, calls.”
To her the mother by new fear heart-struck,
“O hither bring him, bring him unto us!
To him,” she cried, “the thresholds of the gods
It is vouchsafed to traverse.” And forthwith
She bade the waters wide asunder shrink,
Wherethro' the youth might enter. The scoop'd wave
Even as a mountainous hollow, around him hung:
The abyss received him to its bosom vast,
And down beneath the river he was drawn.
Of Vulcan's frustrate forethought, and the frauds
Of Mars, and his sweet thefts; and all the loves
Full-frequent of the gods, since Chaos was,
She number'd. Taken by whose song, the while
The listening Nymphs around their spindles whirl'd
The fluent threads, yet once again that moan
Of Aristæus struck his mother's ears;
And all those Nymphs upon their glassy seats
Were startled. Foremost of her sisters then,
301
Upheaving, Arethusa glanced around:
And, from aloof, “Not idly scared,” she cried,
“Sister Cyrene, by such moan wert thou;
Whose chiefest care, sad, Aristæus' self,
Stands by the wave of thy Peneian Sire
Weeping, and, by thy name, thee, cruel, calls.”
To her the mother by new fear heart-struck,
“O hither bring him, bring him unto us!
To him,” she cried, “the thresholds of the gods
It is vouchsafed to traverse.” And forthwith
She bade the waters wide asunder shrink,
Wherethro' the youth might enter. The scoop'd wave
Even as a mountainous hollow, around him hung:
The abyss received him to its bosom vast,
And down beneath the river he was drawn.
There moves he, marvelling at his mother's home,
And her wet kingdoms: lakes in caverns lock'd,
And sounding groves: there, by the unwieldy toil
Of waters all bewilder'd, round he looks,
And in their places sees those rivers all
That wander underneath the massy earth:
Phasis, and Lycus, and the headspring high
Whence, first from under-ground, Enipeus bursts,
Whence Father Tiber, whence smooth Anio flows,
And roughly-sounding rocky Hypanis,
Mysian Caïcus, and, with double horn,
Golden bull-brow'd Eridanus, than whom
No river through rich-cultured lands goes down
More passionately into the purple sea.
And her wet kingdoms: lakes in caverns lock'd,
And sounding groves: there, by the unwieldy toil
Of waters all bewilder'd, round he looks,
And in their places sees those rivers all
That wander underneath the massy earth:
Phasis, and Lycus, and the headspring high
Whence, first from under-ground, Enipeus bursts,
Whence Father Tiber, whence smooth Anio flows,
And roughly-sounding rocky Hypanis,
Mysian Caïcus, and, with double horn,
Golden bull-brow'd Eridanus, than whom
No river through rich-cultured lands goes down
More passionately into the purple sea.
Soon as her son was enter'd in, beneath
Her chamber's sparry-hanging roof, and there
Cyrene knew his woes, though vainly wept,
Not irremediable, in order round,
Her sisters all their liquid fountains pour
Upon his hands; and diapers, they bear
Daintily woven. Part, the tables load
With viands, and full goblets range. Anon,
With fired Panchæan spice the altars glow.
And “Take we beakers of Mæonian wine,”
The mother cried, “And to Oceanus
“Libations pour!” So saying, herself the Sire
Of all things, Ocean, and her Sister Nymphs,
(The hundred woodland ministers, and they
That tend upon the streams, a hundred more)
Invoking, thrice with liquid nectar drench'd
The blazing altar. Thrice the quicken'd flame,
High as the roof-top leaping, flash'd. Then she,
By that fair omen fortified, began:
302
Cyrene knew his woes, though vainly wept,
Not irremediable, in order round,
Her sisters all their liquid fountains pour
Upon his hands; and diapers, they bear
Daintily woven. Part, the tables load
With viands, and full goblets range. Anon,
With fired Panchæan spice the altars glow.
And “Take we beakers of Mæonian wine,”
The mother cried, “And to Oceanus
“Libations pour!” So saying, herself the Sire
Of all things, Ocean, and her Sister Nymphs,
(The hundred woodland ministers, and they
That tend upon the streams, a hundred more)
Invoking, thrice with liquid nectar drench'd
The blazing altar. Thrice the quicken'd flame,
High as the roof-top leaping, flash'd. Then she,
By that fair omen fortified, began:
“There dwells in the Carpathian gulf a Sage
To Neptune dear; sea-colour'd Proteus. He
That wanders the wide water, charioted
By his two-footed steeds to fishes join'd,
Now to revisit his loved native land
Pallene, and the Emathian port, is gone.
Him, both we Nymphs revere, and Nereus' self,
Our Sire grandæval: for to him, as seer,
Be all things known, that are, or once have been,
Or in the far off time are yet to be.
So pleased it Neptune, whose unwieldy flocks,
Rank seals, he pastures underneath the gulf.
Him, son, behoves thee first to seize, and bind,
That he thy cause of mischief may declare,
And second the event. For counsel none
He unenforced vouchsafes: nor may'st thou him
Beseeching turn: on whom, when caught, hard force
And chains essay: round these, if thou persist,
His frustrate wiles shall waste themselves away.
Myself, what time the sun's mid-ardours burn,
When thirsty is the herb, and to the herd
Most pleasant every haunt of happy shade,
Thee to the hiding places will conduct
Wherein the old man, weary from the wave,
Betakes himself, whom there, in slumber sunk
Supine, thou may'st most easily assail.
Howbeit, when him thou holdest in thy hands
Fast bound, his various aspects, even then,
Shall fool thee with brute faces counterfeit:
For sudden shall he seem a bristly board,
Fell tigress, dragon scaled, and lioness
With tawny mane; or, to escape his chains,
Give forth anon sharp sound of crackling flame,
Or, in thin waters falling, melt away.
But thou, the more he shift his shapes, so much
The more, son, tighten stern his stubborn bonds;
Till to the same his form returns, as when
With sleepy eyelids sunk thou saw'st him first.
To Neptune dear; sea-colour'd Proteus. He
That wanders the wide water, charioted
By his two-footed steeds to fishes join'd,
Now to revisit his loved native land
Pallene, and the Emathian port, is gone.
Him, both we Nymphs revere, and Nereus' self,
Our Sire grandæval: for to him, as seer,
Be all things known, that are, or once have been,
Or in the far off time are yet to be.
So pleased it Neptune, whose unwieldy flocks,
Rank seals, he pastures underneath the gulf.
Him, son, behoves thee first to seize, and bind,
303
And second the event. For counsel none
He unenforced vouchsafes: nor may'st thou him
Beseeching turn: on whom, when caught, hard force
And chains essay: round these, if thou persist,
His frustrate wiles shall waste themselves away.
Myself, what time the sun's mid-ardours burn,
When thirsty is the herb, and to the herd
Most pleasant every haunt of happy shade,
Thee to the hiding places will conduct
Wherein the old man, weary from the wave,
Betakes himself, whom there, in slumber sunk
Supine, thou may'st most easily assail.
Howbeit, when him thou holdest in thy hands
Fast bound, his various aspects, even then,
Shall fool thee with brute faces counterfeit:
For sudden shall he seem a bristly board,
Fell tigress, dragon scaled, and lioness
With tawny mane; or, to escape his chains,
Give forth anon sharp sound of crackling flame,
Or, in thin waters falling, melt away.
But thou, the more he shift his shapes, so much
The more, son, tighten stern his stubborn bonds;
Till to the same his form returns, as when
With sleepy eyelids sunk thou saw'st him first.
So counsell'd she: and liquid odour pour'd
Ambrosial o'er her son, that all his frame
With fragrance flooded: on his curls composed
Came breathing gusts of sweet, and to his limbs
Light nimble health.
A hollow huge there is,
Deep-cavern'd in the side of a hoar crag,
Wherein the oft-wind-beaten wave o' the sea
Into long gorges breaks, and falls; erewhile
To storm-struck mariners a haven safe.
There Proteus, under the broad beetlling cliff,
Houseth: and there, turn'd from the light o' the day,
The Nymph among the shadows placed the youth.
Herself, at hand, in vapour veil'd, retires.
Ambrosial o'er her son, that all his frame
With fragrance flooded: on his curls composed
Came breathing gusts of sweet, and to his limbs
Light nimble health.
A hollow huge there is,
304
Wherein the oft-wind-beaten wave o' the sea
Into long gorges breaks, and falls; erewhile
To storm-struck mariners a haven safe.
There Proteus, under the broad beetlling cliff,
Houseth: and there, turn'd from the light o' the day,
The Nymph among the shadows placed the youth.
Herself, at hand, in vapour veil'd, retires.
By this, swift Sirius, scorching thirsty Ind,
Was hot in heaven: and now the fiery sun
His middle orbit had nigh fill'd: the grass
Was parching: and to muddy ooze the beams
Baked in their suck'd and shrunken river-beds
The tepid brooks; when from the sea-wave forth
Came Proteus, seeking his accustom'd cave.
Around him the vast deep's moist people play'd,
And, shambling, shook abroad the salt sea-spray.
Anon, to slumber, scatter'd here and there,
About the sea-beach, settled the sea-beasts.
Himself, meanwhile, as one that tends his herds
The hills among, what time the Even star
Back to their stalls his beeves from pasture bids,
And the lambs' bleating the wolf's hunger whets,
Above them, in the midst, upon a crag
Sat down considerate, and their number told.
Was hot in heaven: and now the fiery sun
His middle orbit had nigh fill'd: the grass
Was parching: and to muddy ooze the beams
Baked in their suck'd and shrunken river-beds
The tepid brooks; when from the sea-wave forth
Came Proteus, seeking his accustom'd cave.
Around him the vast deep's moist people play'd,
And, shambling, shook abroad the salt sea-spray.
Anon, to slumber, scatter'd here and there,
About the sea-beach, settled the sea-beasts.
Himself, meanwhile, as one that tends his herds
The hills among, what time the Even star
Back to their stalls his beeves from pasture bids,
And the lambs' bleating the wolf's hunger whets,
Above them, in the midst, upon a crag
Sat down considerate, and their number told.
Whom to assail soon as the chance he spied,
Scarce Aristæus the old man vouchsafed
Scant time to stretch at ease his wearied limbs,
But with alarum loud upon him rush'd,
Prone where he lay, and him fast manacled.
He, not unmindful of his art meanwhile,
Himself to all manner of marvellous shapes transform'd:
Fire, formidable beast, and flowing stream.
But, when by no false seeming might he 'scape,
Vanquisht, he turned anon into himself,
With human countenance resumed; and said:
“Rash boy, who bade thee our abodes approach?
Or here what seek'st thou?” But the other cried:
“Proteus, thou know'st: thyself, thou know'st: nor thee
May any man in aught deceive. Do thou
Therefore, thine own deceivings, prithee, cease.
Here, to the gods obedient, are we come,
Of our misfortunes to enquire the cause.”
Thus far he spake: whereto in answer, shaked
By mighty spasms, the prophet around him roll'd
The glassy glare of his sea-colour'd eyes,
And grimly gnashing, thus the fates declared:
Scarce Aristæus the old man vouchsafed
Scant time to stretch at ease his wearied limbs,
But with alarum loud upon him rush'd,
Prone where he lay, and him fast manacled.
305
Himself to all manner of marvellous shapes transform'd:
Fire, formidable beast, and flowing stream.
But, when by no false seeming might he 'scape,
Vanquisht, he turned anon into himself,
With human countenance resumed; and said:
“Rash boy, who bade thee our abodes approach?
Or here what seek'st thou?” But the other cried:
“Proteus, thou know'st: thyself, thou know'st: nor thee
May any man in aught deceive. Do thou
Therefore, thine own deceivings, prithee, cease.
Here, to the gods obedient, are we come,
Of our misfortunes to enquire the cause.”
Thus far he spake: whereto in answer, shaked
By mighty spasms, the prophet around him roll'd
The glassy glare of his sea-colour'd eyes,
And grimly gnashing, thus the fates declared:
“Thee nothing less than wrath divine reproves.
Large debt thou owest of evil done: and worse
(If fates forbid not) hast deserved, than these
Retributive woes by wretched Orpheus waked,
Indignant raging for his ravisht spouse.
She headlong flying, headlong to her doom,
From thy pursuit the river-banks along,
Spurn'd with unheedful steps in the high reed
A hydra huge that by the rivage housed.
The hill-tops, then, with their lamentings loud,
In chorus, her companion Dryads fill'd:
Deep moan'd the Rhodopeian mountains: moan'd
Craggy Pangæa, and the region wild
Of Rhesus: moan'd those realms the Getæ:
Hebrus: and where, from Athens, the North Wind
Bore ravisht Orithyia to his haunt.
But he, his heart's love-sickness solacing
To a hollow shell, the lonesome shores along,
Thee, at the dawning of the day, sweet wife,
Thee, at the darkening, solitary sung.
Large debt thou owest of evil done: and worse
(If fates forbid not) hast deserved, than these
Retributive woes by wretched Orpheus waked,
Indignant raging for his ravisht spouse.
She headlong flying, headlong to her doom,
From thy pursuit the river-banks along,
Spurn'd with unheedful steps in the high reed
A hydra huge that by the rivage housed.
The hill-tops, then, with their lamentings loud,
In chorus, her companion Dryads fill'd:
Deep moan'd the Rhodopeian mountains: moan'd
Craggy Pangæa, and the region wild
Of Rhesus: moan'd those realms the Getæ:
306
Bore ravisht Orithyia to his haunt.
But he, his heart's love-sickness solacing
To a hollow shell, the lonesome shores along,
Thee, at the dawning of the day, sweet wife,
Thee, at the darkening, solitary sung.
“Down, even, through the jaws of Tænarus, down
To the high doors of Dis, and that black grove,
With hideous darkness horrible, he went:
Down to the Manes, and their dreadful king,
And hearts to human prayers implacable.
Moved by his music from the nether seats
Of Erebus, lean shades and lightless shapes
Came flocking, thick as birds, at eventide,
In multitudes, that to the woodlands wing,
Or from the hills are driven by winter rains:
Matrons, and men, and bodies with no life
Of high-soul'd heroes, and unwedded maids,
Children, and youths upon the funeral pyre
Before the faces of their parents stretch'd:
Whom the slow ooze of that unlovely marsh
About Cocytus binds with sooty slime
And shapeless sedge, or ninefold Styx constrains.
To the high doors of Dis, and that black grove,
With hideous darkness horrible, he went:
Down to the Manes, and their dreadful king,
And hearts to human prayers implacable.
Moved by his music from the nether seats
Of Erebus, lean shades and lightless shapes
Came flocking, thick as birds, at eventide,
In multitudes, that to the woodlands wing,
Or from the hills are driven by winter rains:
Matrons, and men, and bodies with no life
Of high-soul'd heroes, and unwedded maids,
Children, and youths upon the funeral pyre
Before the faces of their parents stretch'd:
Whom the slow ooze of that unlovely marsh
About Cocytus binds with sooty slime
And shapeless sedge, or ninefold Styx constrains.
“Amazement all the habitations husht
Of Tartarus, and the inmost depths of death,
And those cold tangled coils of livid snakes
Woven in the locks of the Eumenides:
Cerberus his three silenced jaws withheld
Wide gaping: and Ixion's orbèd wheel,
Still'd from the whirling of the wild wind, stood.
“Anon, returning, all those perils 'scaped,
With his restored Eurydice, what time
He reach'd the upper airs (behind him she:
For such command Proserpina imposed),
That lover rash his frenzied fancy seized;
Fault to forgive, if Death forgiveness knew!
Sudden he paused: and his Eurydice,
—His, now that day's true light is reach'd at last,
Unmindful, by his love, alas, o'ercome,
Turn'd to behold: thus all his labour lost:
Broken his pact with Death's unpardoning lord:
And thrice, from all his fens, Avernus shriek'd!
Of Tartarus, and the inmost depths of death,
And those cold tangled coils of livid snakes
Woven in the locks of the Eumenides:
Cerberus his three silenced jaws withheld
Wide gaping: and Ixion's orbèd wheel,
Still'd from the whirling of the wild wind, stood.
307
With his restored Eurydice, what time
He reach'd the upper airs (behind him she:
For such command Proserpina imposed),
That lover rash his frenzied fancy seized;
Fault to forgive, if Death forgiveness knew!
Sudden he paused: and his Eurydice,
—His, now that day's true light is reach'd at last,
Unmindful, by his love, alas, o'ercome,
Turn'd to behold: thus all his labour lost:
Broken his pact with Death's unpardoning lord:
And thrice, from all his fens, Avernus shriek'd!
“‘Ah, what hath lost me, miserable,’ she moan'd,
‘Orpheus, and thee? what fatal frenzy this?
Me, hark! once more the cruel Fates recall,
And sleepy death my swimming sight obscures.
Farewell! For I fare hence, in the vast night
That gathers round me, and in vain to thee
Weak hands am waving; thine, alas, no more!’
Speaking, she faded sudden from his sight,
Like vapour mixt with unsubstantial air:
Nor him, yet yearning ah how much to say,
And shadows pale with frustrate passion clasping,
She any more beheld: for never more
The ferryman of Orcus to o'erpass
The opposing deep permitted. What to do
Is left him? whither should he turn? to whom
Appeal, who mourns a now twice-ravisht spouse?
The Manes by what weeping, by what voice
Of wail may he the Nether Powers, appease?
She, cold, meanwhile, in Stygian bark is borne.
“Him, rumour'd tales report, for seven whole months
Continuous, weeping on a windy crag
Far off by Strymon's solitary wave:
Charm'd from their lairs by his melodious moan,
Came tigers, creeping under caverns cold,
Lull'd into languor, and the lured oak trees.
So Philomela in the poplar shade
Laments, bewailing her departed brood,
Whom, haply, passing, the hard ploughman spied,
And from the nest, yet callow, filch'd: but she
Mourns, brooding night by night upon the bough,
There pours and pours her miserable song
And with sad plainings fills the region round.
‘Orpheus, and thee? what fatal frenzy this?
Me, hark! once more the cruel Fates recall,
And sleepy death my swimming sight obscures.
Farewell! For I fare hence, in the vast night
That gathers round me, and in vain to thee
Weak hands am waving; thine, alas, no more!’
Speaking, she faded sudden from his sight,
Like vapour mixt with unsubstantial air:
Nor him, yet yearning ah how much to say,
And shadows pale with frustrate passion clasping,
She any more beheld: for never more
The ferryman of Orcus to o'erpass
The opposing deep permitted. What to do
Is left him? whither should he turn? to whom
Appeal, who mourns a now twice-ravisht spouse?
The Manes by what weeping, by what voice
Of wail may he the Nether Powers, appease?
She, cold, meanwhile, in Stygian bark is borne.
308
Continuous, weeping on a windy crag
Far off by Strymon's solitary wave:
Charm'd from their lairs by his melodious moan,
Came tigers, creeping under caverns cold,
Lull'd into languor, and the lured oak trees.
So Philomela in the poplar shade
Laments, bewailing her departed brood,
Whom, haply, passing, the hard ploughman spied,
And from the nest, yet callow, filch'd: but she
Mourns, brooding night by night upon the bough,
There pours and pours her miserable song
And with sad plainings fills the region round.
“No woman's beauty him, nor wedlock, soothed.
Lonely along the Hyperborean wilds
Of ice, and frosty Tanaïs, and the wolds
Unwidow'd ever of Rhiphæan snows
Wandering, his lost Eurydice he wail'd,
And the vain gifts of Dis. Stung by his scorn
The Thracian women, in the revels fierce
Of midnight Bacchus, and the season due
To rights divine, the youth asunder rent,
And wide upon the wilds his ruins strew'd.
Even then, tho' from the marble shoulders torn,
The while his head Œagrian Hebrus whirl'd
Down the mid-stream, still ‘Ah Eurydice!’
‘Hapless Eurydice!’ from chilly lips
The voice call'd ever; and the parting soul
‘Eurydice!’ ‘Eurydice!’ the rocks
All down the stream re-echoed as it roll'd.”
Thus Proteus: and adown the steep he sprang,
Plunged, and the bubbling billow above him whirl'd.
But not Cyrene. “Son,” to him, o'erawed,
Returning lightly, “Put away,” she said,
“Sad thoughts out of thy heart. Of thy mischance
This the sole cause. For this, unhappy boy,
The woodland Nymphs, with whom her wont it was
In the high groves to wake the choral dance,
Death on thy bees have sent. But, suppliant, thou
Bring offerings, and imploring peace, revere
The mild Napææ that to votive gifts,
In wrath relentful, light forgiveness grant.
The manner, first, of thy beseeching them
In order due will I declare. Four bulls
Well-chosen, and in shape surpassing all,
Of those, now thine, that on the summits feed
Of green Lycæus, and, by yoke untoucht,
Heifers as many more, do thou select:
Therewith, four altars to those goddesses,
In their high precincts, build: and from the throats
Of these let forth the sacred blood: and leave
The bodies of them in the leafy grove.
Then, when her rising the ninth dawn reveals,
Lethæan poppies to the nether ghost
Of Orpheus offer: and a heifer slay,
With a black sheep, appeased Eurydice
Revering thus: and to the grove return.”
Lonely along the Hyperborean wilds
Of ice, and frosty Tanaïs, and the wolds
Unwidow'd ever of Rhiphæan snows
Wandering, his lost Eurydice he wail'd,
And the vain gifts of Dis. Stung by his scorn
The Thracian women, in the revels fierce
Of midnight Bacchus, and the season due
To rights divine, the youth asunder rent,
And wide upon the wilds his ruins strew'd.
Even then, tho' from the marble shoulders torn,
The while his head Œagrian Hebrus whirl'd
Down the mid-stream, still ‘Ah Eurydice!’
‘Hapless Eurydice!’ from chilly lips
The voice call'd ever; and the parting soul
309
All down the stream re-echoed as it roll'd.”
Thus Proteus: and adown the steep he sprang,
Plunged, and the bubbling billow above him whirl'd.
But not Cyrene. “Son,” to him, o'erawed,
Returning lightly, “Put away,” she said,
“Sad thoughts out of thy heart. Of thy mischance
This the sole cause. For this, unhappy boy,
The woodland Nymphs, with whom her wont it was
In the high groves to wake the choral dance,
Death on thy bees have sent. But, suppliant, thou
Bring offerings, and imploring peace, revere
The mild Napææ that to votive gifts,
In wrath relentful, light forgiveness grant.
The manner, first, of thy beseeching them
In order due will I declare. Four bulls
Well-chosen, and in shape surpassing all,
Of those, now thine, that on the summits feed
Of green Lycæus, and, by yoke untoucht,
Heifers as many more, do thou select:
Therewith, four altars to those goddesses,
In their high precincts, build: and from the throats
Of these let forth the sacred blood: and leave
The bodies of them in the leafy grove.
Then, when her rising the ninth dawn reveals,
Lethæan poppies to the nether ghost
Of Orpheus offer: and a heifer slay,
With a black sheep, appeased Eurydice
Revering thus: and to the grove return.”
Nor linger'd he. But those maternal words
Duteous obey'd. Forth to the hallow'd groves
He went: and there the altars raised, and there
Four chosen bulls, in shape surpassing all,
And heifers by the yoke as yet untoucht
As many more, he led. Anon, what time,
This done, her rising the ninth dawn reveal'd,
Lethæan poppies to the nether ghost
Of Orpheus given, he to the grove return'd.
But there a wonder, sudden, and to tell
Surpassing strange, was witness'd. All about
Those bulls' half-molten entrails, and deep down
I' the heifer's womb, a sound of humming bees,
That, bubbling up from out the bursten ribs,
Swarm'd forth in clouds innumerable: and now
They fly together on the tall tree-tops,
And from the bended boughs in cluster hang.
Duteous obey'd. Forth to the hallow'd groves
310
Four chosen bulls, in shape surpassing all,
And heifers by the yoke as yet untoucht
As many more, he led. Anon, what time,
This done, her rising the ninth dawn reveal'd,
Lethæan poppies to the nether ghost
Of Orpheus given, he to the grove return'd.
But there a wonder, sudden, and to tell
Surpassing strange, was witness'd. All about
Those bulls' half-molten entrails, and deep down
I' the heifer's womb, a sound of humming bees,
That, bubbling up from out the bursten ribs,
Swarm'd forth in clouds innumerable: and now
They fly together on the tall tree-tops,
And from the bended boughs in cluster hang.
311
LUCRETIUS.
313
INVOCATION TO VENUS
AND INTRODUCTION OF THE EPICUREAN PHILOSOPHY.
Benignant Mother of the Ænead race,
Venus, to gods and men delightful! Thou
That, underneath the sliding signs of heaven,
With concourse throngest the ship-bearing sea
And fruitful earth: by whose conceiving, all
That lives doth leap into the light o' the sun:
Thee, Goddess, thee, at thine approach, the winds
Flee, and the skyey clouds: the dœdal earth
To thee her flow'rets sweet uprears: to thee
The waters wide of Ocean laugh, and all
The stainless heaven in full-pour'd light is clear.
Soon as the vernal forehead of the day
Unveil'd appears, what time the procreant gale
Of free Favonius nimbly breathes abroad,
Thee, Goddess, and thy comings, thrill'd at heart
By thy strong sweetness, first the aëry birds
Herald; and then, their happy haunts about,
The wild herds bound, and swim the torrent brooks.
So taken by delight of thy sweet lures
With fond desire, the life of all that lives
To follow thee, where'er thou wilt, is fain;
Till last, amid the seas, among the hills,
And by the flowing of the headlong streams,
Green grassy lawns, and leafy homes of birds,
In every breast implanting balmy love,
Each, in his several kind, thou dost constrain
With lusty heart life's ages to renew.
Venus, to gods and men delightful! Thou
That, underneath the sliding signs of heaven,
With concourse throngest the ship-bearing sea
And fruitful earth: by whose conceiving, all
That lives doth leap into the light o' the sun:
Thee, Goddess, thee, at thine approach, the winds
Flee, and the skyey clouds: the dœdal earth
To thee her flow'rets sweet uprears: to thee
The waters wide of Ocean laugh, and all
The stainless heaven in full-pour'd light is clear.
Soon as the vernal forehead of the day
Unveil'd appears, what time the procreant gale
Of free Favonius nimbly breathes abroad,
Thee, Goddess, and thy comings, thrill'd at heart
By thy strong sweetness, first the aëry birds
Herald; and then, their happy haunts about,
The wild herds bound, and swim the torrent brooks.
So taken by delight of thy sweet lures
314
To follow thee, where'er thou wilt, is fain;
Till last, amid the seas, among the hills,
And by the flowing of the headlong streams,
Green grassy lawns, and leafy homes of birds,
In every breast implanting balmy love,
Each, in his several kind, thou dost constrain
With lusty heart life's ages to renew.
Sole, who dost universal nature sway,
Since without thee may never aught arise
Into the regions of celestial light,
Nor lovely aught, nor aught delightful be,
Thee my divine associate I desire
In verses yet unwritten, to reveal
The Nature of the Universe of Things,
Which now I meditate for Memmius' son,
Memmius my friend; whom, Goddess, thou hast will'd,
Gifted in all, at all times to excel.
So much the more, Divine Inspirer, grant
Enduring sweetness to these words of mine:
And lull, meanwhile, war's barbarous business all
To slumbrous rest the lands and seas around:
For thou alone our mortal hearts canst help
With hushful peace. Since Mars armipotent,
That over war's wild labours lorddom wields,
Oft in thy lap, by love's eternal wound
O'ermaster'd, flings himself; and, gazing up
(His full firm-moulded throat back-sloped at ease),
Into his soul thy sweetness there he breathes,
There feeds on love his famisht looks, the while
His sigh'd-forth spirit upon thy lip doth hang.
O'er him, so leaning, as thy sacred form,
O Goddess, all its fluent beauty bends,
Pour from thy lips a language of soft sounds,
And for thy Romans, O Renown'd, beseech
Untroubled peace. For, neither may we hope
With even mind, in this uneven hour
That shakes the land, our purpose to pursue,
Nor Memmius' noble scion, in a time
So toss'd, be wanting to the common weal.
Since without thee may never aught arise
Into the regions of celestial light,
Nor lovely aught, nor aught delightful be,
Thee my divine associate I desire
In verses yet unwritten, to reveal
The Nature of the Universe of Things,
Which now I meditate for Memmius' son,
Memmius my friend; whom, Goddess, thou hast will'd,
Gifted in all, at all times to excel.
So much the more, Divine Inspirer, grant
Enduring sweetness to these words of mine:
And lull, meanwhile, war's barbarous business all
To slumbrous rest the lands and seas around:
For thou alone our mortal hearts canst help
With hushful peace. Since Mars armipotent,
That over war's wild labours lorddom wields,
Oft in thy lap, by love's eternal wound
O'ermaster'd, flings himself; and, gazing up
(His full firm-moulded throat back-sloped at ease),
Into his soul thy sweetness there he breathes,
There feeds on love his famisht looks, the while
315
O'er him, so leaning, as thy sacred form,
O Goddess, all its fluent beauty bends,
Pour from thy lips a language of soft sounds,
And for thy Romans, O Renown'd, beseech
Untroubled peace. For, neither may we hope
With even mind, in this uneven hour
That shakes the land, our purpose to pursue,
Nor Memmius' noble scion, in a time
So toss'd, be wanting to the common weal.
For what remains, to me, O Memmius, lend
Thine ears' free listening; and, from cares withdrawn,
Thyself to truth's pure argument address.
Nor yet, despised ere comprehended, spurn
My gifts, for thee, with studious zeal, disposed.
For of the supreme order of the spheres,
The gods, and nature's primal sources all,
Discourse with thee I purpose; and to show
Whence nature all things doth to being bring,
Put forth, and nourish; whither, also, she
Anon, dissolving, doth restore them all.
These, in the rendering of our argument,
Matter, we call; the elemental seeds
And generative substances of things;
Naming them primal; since all things that are
From these, the first, derivatively come.
Thine ears' free listening; and, from cares withdrawn,
Thyself to truth's pure argument address.
Nor yet, despised ere comprehended, spurn
My gifts, for thee, with studious zeal, disposed.
For of the supreme order of the spheres,
The gods, and nature's primal sources all,
Discourse with thee I purpose; and to show
Whence nature all things doth to being bring,
Put forth, and nourish; whither, also, she
Anon, dissolving, doth restore them all.
These, in the rendering of our argument,
Matter, we call; the elemental seeds
And generative substances of things;
Naming them primal; since all things that are
From these, the first, derivatively come.
For all the being of the gods must needs,
Of its own nature, perfect peace enjoy,
Living immortally, far off removed
From all this coil of sublunary things:
Exempt from peril, from all pain exempt,
Itself to itself sufficing, and of us
Naught needing, neither by the good, nor ill
Men do, disposed to favour or to wrath.
Of its own nature, perfect peace enjoy,
Living immortally, far off removed
From all this coil of sublunary things:
316
Itself to itself sufficing, and of us
Naught needing, neither by the good, nor ill
Men do, disposed to favour or to wrath.
What time man's life before his own eyes lay
Low grovelling, ground to earth beneath the weight
Of grim Religion, that from cloudy air
Her lifted head in heaven put forth, and stood
High over men with horrible countenance,
A man in Greece, then first of all mankind,
Dared to uplift, against her, mortal eyes,
And, fearless fronting, firm withstand, her. Him
Nor rumours of the gods, nor thunder-bolts,
Nor heaven with muttering menace, could dismay
But rather all the more within him roused
Sharp courage, and the yearning of his soul
To be the first to shatter the shut bars
Of Nature's portals. Therefore, his soul's strength
Prevail'd: and he, in high procedure, far
O'erpass'd the wide world's burning boundary walls,
And traversed in the spirit and the thought
The vast immeasurable infinite.
Thence, now, triumphant, he to us reports
What may be; what may not be; what, in fine,
Is the capacity of all things; what
The bound abysmal. Whence, in turn, brought down
And trodden 'neath our feet Religion writhes.
Us level with heaven's height his victory sets.
Low grovelling, ground to earth beneath the weight
Of grim Religion, that from cloudy air
Her lifted head in heaven put forth, and stood
High over men with horrible countenance,
A man in Greece, then first of all mankind,
Dared to uplift, against her, mortal eyes,
And, fearless fronting, firm withstand, her. Him
Nor rumours of the gods, nor thunder-bolts,
Nor heaven with muttering menace, could dismay
But rather all the more within him roused
Sharp courage, and the yearning of his soul
To be the first to shatter the shut bars
Of Nature's portals. Therefore, his soul's strength
Prevail'd: and he, in high procedure, far
O'erpass'd the wide world's burning boundary walls,
And traversed in the spirit and the thought
The vast immeasurable infinite.
Thence, now, triumphant, he to us reports
What may be; what may not be; what, in fine,
Is the capacity of all things; what
The bound abysmal. Whence, in turn, brought down
And trodden 'neath our feet Religion writhes.
Us level with heaven's height his victory sets.
317
DANTE.
319
THE FIRST CANTO OF THE INFERNO.
PARAPHRASE.
Upon the journey of our life midway
Methought that, from the right path stray'd, I stood
In a wood obscure. Full hard it is to say
How savage, rough, and stubborn, was that wood:
Methought that, from the right path stray'd, I stood
In a wood obscure. Full hard it is to say
How savage, rough, and stubborn, was that wood:
Whereof such dread as death can scarce excel
My thought renews. But, to set forth the good
Which there I found, I needs must also tell
My thought renews. But, to set forth the good
Which there I found, I needs must also tell
What other things I did encounter there.
Into this wood how me the chance befell
To enter, memory may not well declare,
Into this wood how me the chance befell
To enter, memory may not well declare,
So full of slumber was I at that place
Whence, leaving the true path, I wander'd here.
But, soon as I had near'd a mountain's base,
Whence, leaving the true path, I wander'd here.
But, soon as I had near'd a mountain's base,
Whereby the vale subsided, that with fear
My heart had pierced, I, lifting up my face,
Beheld his shoulders in the rays, now clear,
My heart had pierced, I, lifting up my face,
Beheld his shoulders in the rays, now clear,
Of that full planet robed, which pilots right
Man's every path. Whereat, were quieted
A little the long stirrings of affright
Man's every path. Whereat, were quieted
A little the long stirrings of affright
320
That in the hollow of my heart were bred
By the so piteous passage of the night.
And even as one that, with back-turnèd head,
By the so piteous passage of the night.
And even as one that, with back-turnèd head,
When up from out of ocean 'scaped to shore,
Pants, and the perilous deep doth wistful scan,
So turn'd my spirit, flying still, to explore
Pants, and the perilous deep doth wistful scan,
So turn'd my spirit, flying still, to explore
That pass yet never left by living man.
Anon, athwart the wilderness, once more
I, after rest of wearied limbs, began
Anon, athwart the wilderness, once more
I, after rest of wearied limbs, began
To foot the upward path; where of my feet
The one firm-set was lowest all the way.
And lo, a lithe she-leopard, passing fleet,
The one firm-set was lowest all the way.
And lo, a lithe she-leopard, passing fleet,
With fur of many colours coated gay,
Hard by the upslope! Nor would she retreat
Thenceforth from sight, but round my path didplay
Hard by the upslope! Nor would she retreat
Thenceforth from sight, but round my path didplay
Till oft I turn'd with purpose back to fare.
It was the season when the morning springs,
And now, amid the stars that with him were
It was the season when the morning springs,
And now, amid the stars that with him were
When Love Divine first moved those beauteous things,
The sun was rising. Hope the happy air,
The season sweet, and gay apparellings
The sun was rising. Hope the happy air,
The season sweet, and gay apparellings
Of that bright beast inspired: yet 'twas not so
With me, but what my hope was made worse dread
By vision of what seem'd a lion, who
With me, but what my hope was made worse dread
By vision of what seem'd a lion, who
Against me came with high-uplifted head,
And all so hunger-mad, 'twas even as tho'
Air's self the awe of him disquieted.
And all so hunger-mad, 'twas even as tho'
Air's self the awe of him disquieted.
Therewith a she-wolf, that did look to be
Stuff'd in her leanness with all lusts; and, long
Ere now, with miseries manifold hath she
Stuff'd in her leanness with all lusts; and, long
Ere now, with miseries manifold hath she
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Made lean the life of many a mortal throng.
So huge a heaviness she cast on me,
Wrought from her aspect fierce, of fear so strong,
So huge a heaviness she cast on me,
Wrought from her aspect fierce, of fear so strong,
That of the height all hope I lost. As one,
Glad of his getting, when to him is nigh
The time that takes it from him, maketh moan
Glad of his getting, when to him is nigh
The time that takes it from him, maketh moan
With all his being's might, even so was I,
In such a sudden sorrow so far gone;
By that unpeaceable beast continually
In such a sudden sorrow so far gone;
By that unpeaceable beast continually
Tormented; which, sore baffling me, at last
Little by little drove me backward where
The sun is silent. There, down ruining fast,
Little by little drove me backward where
The sun is silent. There, down ruining fast,
Nigh to the nether space, my sense was ware
Of one before me in the wildness vast,
That, for long silence, seem'd faint-voiced. To him,
Of one before me in the wildness vast,
That, for long silence, seem'd faint-voiced. To him,
Soon as I saw him, “Pity me!” I cried,
“Whate'er thou beest, true man, or shadow dim.”
“No man: but what was once man,” he replied.
“Whate'er thou beest, true man, or shadow dim.”
“No man: but what was once man,” he replied.
“Lombards were my begetters, both of them,
And Mantuans they, by country, either side.
Myself sub Julio born, though late, at Rome
And Mantuans they, by country, either side.
Myself sub Julio born, though late, at Rome
Beneath benign Augustus dwelt, i' the day
Of feign'd and fabling gods. Poet, him come
From Troy, just offspring of Anchises grey,
Of feign'd and fabling gods. Poet, him come
From Troy, just offspring of Anchises grey,
When burn'd was Ilium, once his haughty home,
I sung. But thou, why dost thou rather, say,
To perils such return, than scale yon mount
I sung. But thou, why dost thou rather, say,
To perils such return, than scale yon mount
Delightful, source and cause of every bliss?”
“O art thou Virgil, and indeed that fount
Whence such full flow of utterance streams?” to this
“O art thou Virgil, and indeed that fount
Whence such full flow of utterance streams?” to this
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I, with shamed forehead, answer'd, “Thee I count
The light and honour of all song that is!
Requite me my much love, and study slow,
The light and honour of all song that is!
Requite me my much love, and study slow,
That me to search thy volume have constrain'd.
Thou art my master, and my maker thou,
Thou only he of whom I have obtain'd
Thou art my master, and my maker thou,
Thou only he of whom I have obtain'd
That style whose beauty me makes honour'd now!
Behold what beast compels me leave ungain'd
That height! O famed for wisdom, from her paw
Behold what beast compels me leave ungain'd
That height! O famed for wisdom, from her paw
That shakes my veins and pulses, save me!” He,
Soon as the weeping of my woe he saw,
Made response to me, “Other pathway thee
Soon as the weeping of my woe he saw,
Made response to me, “Other pathway thee
Behoves it to attempt, if from the jaw
Of this wild desert thou thyself would'st free.
She against whom thou clamourest, that she-beast,
Of this wild desert thou thyself would'st free.
She against whom thou clamourest, that she-beast,
Lets no man pass her, but doth all impede
Even to the death. The greed of whose grim breast
So cursèd is, not anything can feed
Even to the death. The greed of whose grim breast
So cursèd is, not anything can feed
Her ravenous lust, which, ever after feast,
Worse famine than before doth in her breed.
Many the beasts wherewith she couples be,
Worse famine than before doth in her breed.
Many the beasts wherewith she couples be,
And many more they shall be, till arrive
That Greyhound which shall pine her heart, till she
Wretchedly perish. Not by land shall live,
That Greyhound which shall pine her heart, till she
Wretchedly perish. Not by land shall live,
Nor yet by lucre, but by wisdom, he,
And love and virtue. And his folk shall thrive
'Twixt either Feltro. He shall lift on high
And love and virtue. And his folk shall thrive
'Twixt either Feltro. He shall lift on high
That so-low-fallen Italy for whose sake
Maiden Camilla in time past did die,
Euryalus, Nisus, Turnus: and shall make
Maiden Camilla in time past did die,
Euryalus, Nisus, Turnus: and shall make
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From his pursuing through all cities fly
Back into Hell her that Hell's bound to break
Hate first impell'd. I, therefore, for thy good
Back into Hell her that Hell's bound to break
Hate first impell'd. I, therefore, for thy good
Considering, thee now counsel and commend
To follow me. And I, from out this wood
Thy guide will be, with whom thou mayest wend
To follow me. And I, from out this wood
Thy guide will be, with whom thou mayest wend
That everlasting deep where dwells the brood
Of those whose desperate shrieks thine ears shall rend,
And gaze on spirits of the former time
Of those whose desperate shrieks thine ears shall rend,
And gaze on spirits of the former time
In dole, demanding second death; then who,
Content, in fire endure, with hope to climb
Hereafter, whensoever time be due,
Content, in fire endure, with hope to climb
Hereafter, whensoever time be due,
To the beatified: whose blissful clime
If thou to visit then aspirest too,
Unto that end another spirit shall be;
If thou to visit then aspirest too,
Unto that end another spirit shall be;
Worthier than I; to whose high ministering
Thee will I, then departing, leave. For me
He that above hath empire and is king
Thee will I, then departing, leave. For me
He that above hath empire and is king
Holds rebel to his law, and doth decree
That by my means shall none have entering
Into His state. He in all parts hath sway,
That by my means shall none have entering
Into His state. He in all parts hath sway,
But there His throne is, there His palace high,
There doth He chiefly dwell. O happy they
Whom there He chooses!”
And to him, then I,
There doth He chiefly dwell. O happy they
Whom there He chooses!”
And to him, then I,
“O poet, by that God that in thy day
Thou didst not know (this ill and worse to fly)
I charge thee, lead me where thou said'st, aright;
Thou didst not know (this ill and worse to fly)
I charge thee, lead me where thou said'st, aright;
That I may see Saint Peter's Gate, and those
That, by thy showing, be in such sad plight.”
Onward he moved: and I behind him close.
That, by thy showing, be in such sad plight.”
Onward he moved: and I behind him close.
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FRANCESCA DA RIMINO.
PARAPHRASE.
When of my Teacher I had learn'd the names
Of those renownèd knights of other days,
And theirs, the former time's most famous dames,
Lost in sad wonder, after mute amaze,
Of those renownèd knights of other days,
And theirs, the former time's most famous dames,
Lost in sad wonder, after mute amaze,
“Bard,” I began, “much is my heart inclined
To parley with yon twain that, where I gaze,
Seem coming, borne so light upon the wind.”
To parley with yon twain that, where I gaze,
Seem coming, borne so light upon the wind.”
And he to me: “Their nearer neighbouring note;
Then, by the love that moves them, thus entwined,
Charge them, and they will come.” No sooner smote
Then, by the love that moves them, thus entwined,
Charge them, and they will come.” No sooner smote
The swift gust near us, which those spirits, join'd,
Did simultaneous to our sight upfloat,
Than, moved to utterance, “Come! O come,” I cried,
Did simultaneous to our sight upfloat,
Than, moved to utterance, “Come! O come,” I cried,
“Afflicted souls! nor yet to our inquiring
Deny discourse, if by nought else denied,”
As doves, solicited by fond desiring,
Deny discourse, if by nought else denied,”
As doves, solicited by fond desiring,
To their loved nest, on steady wings and wide,
Through air are wafted by the sweet inspiring
Of their own wishes swift; so, parting there
Through air are wafted by the sweet inspiring
Of their own wishes swift; so, parting there
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Dido's dim throng, the twain toward us sail'd
In such wise speeding through that evil air;
So much my cry compassionate prevail'd.
In such wise speeding through that evil air;
So much my cry compassionate prevail'd.
“O being that, beneficent and fair,
Through this obscure comest, visiting,” they wail'd,
“Us that have earth embrued with bloody stain,
Through this obscure comest, visiting,” they wail'd,
“Us that have earth embrued with bloody stain,
Were He, the Universal King, our friend,
Since thou hast pity on our pitiless pain,
Prayers to Him we for thy peace would send.
Since thou hast pity on our pitiless pain,
Prayers to Him we for thy peace would send.
Whate'er to hear, or haply tell, thou art fain,
To tell or hear, thy bidding we attend,
What time, as now, the wind is whist. The land
To tell or hear, thy bidding we attend,
What time, as now, the wind is whist. The land
That bore me seaward lies where Po proceeds
Down, with his sequent waters, to his rest.
Love, that in gentle heart scant kindling breeds,
Down, with his sequent waters, to his rest.
Love, that in gentle heart scant kindling breeds,
Him, by the fairness of the form that drest
This spirit once (and yet indignant bleeds
Sharp memory of its taking off!) possest;
This spirit once (and yet indignant bleeds
Sharp memory of its taking off!) possest;
Love, that in one beloved doth love beget,
Me too well pleased with pleasing him, so well
That, as thou seest, he hath not left me yet:
Me too well pleased with pleasing him, so well
That, as thou seest, he hath not left me yet:
Love led us to one death: Caïna's hell
Waits him that spilt our lives.” Such response met
My sense, from such resentful sorrowing sent,
Waits him that spilt our lives.” Such response met
My sense, from such resentful sorrowing sent,
That so long, for the sadness of it, was
My countenance in such dejection bent,
The Poet cried, “What musest thou?” “Alas!”
My countenance in such dejection bent,
The Poet cried, “What musest thou?” “Alas!”
I answer'd, “What sweet thoughts, what fond intent
Have brought them to this miserable pass!”
Then, yet once more returning to the two,
Have brought them to this miserable pass!”
Then, yet once more returning to the two,
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“Francesca, pitifullest tears,” I cried,
“For thy deep woes I weep. Yet tell me how
To him and thee did Love the means provide,
“For thy deep woes I weep. Yet tell me how
To him and thee did Love the means provide,
First in the time of your sweet sighs, to know
Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied,
“There is no greater pang than to recall
Your yet uncertain wishes?” She replied,
“There is no greater pang than to recall
In misery days of happiness that were.
And that thy Teacher knows. Yet I, if all
So deep be thy desire to see laid bare
And that thy Teacher knows. Yet I, if all
So deep be thy desire to see laid bare
Of our love's growth the root original,
Will speak as one that weeping tells his care.
For pleasant passing of the time, one day,
Will speak as one that weeping tells his care.
For pleasant passing of the time, one day,
Of love-thrall'd Launcelot the tale we read:
We were alone: all danger far away
From our suspecting: though the colour fled
We were alone: all danger far away
From our suspecting: though the colour fled
Our faces oft, and oft our looks to stray
Into each other's eyes that reading led.
One point alone o'ercame us. We the while
Into each other's eyes that reading led.
One point alone o'ercame us. We the while
Thus reading still, still unsuspecting ever,
When as we read of that so long'd-for smile
That such deep love did, with such dear endeavour,
When as we read of that so long'd-for smile
That such deep love did, with such dear endeavour,
To so sweet kissing of sweet lips beguile,
He that from me shall be disparted never
Me on the mouth all trembling kist. Accurst
He that from me shall be disparted never
Me on the mouth all trembling kist. Accurst
The felon book was, and its scribe as well!
That day we read no more.
While thus the first,
The other spirit made moan so miserable
That, by sick pity all my sense disperst,
Down, as to earth a dead corpse falls, I fell.”
That day we read no more.
While thus the first,
The other spirit made moan so miserable
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Down, as to earth a dead corpse falls, I fell.”
“Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse.”
Those commentators who affirm that the Galeotto of this line is the proper name of Galahad are probably right. They have, at least, ample warrant for their opinion in the sixty-sixth chapter of the Italian Romance of Lancilotto, relating “Come la Reina conobbe Lancilotto . . . e come la prima congiunzione fu fatta fra Lancilotto e Ginevra per lo mezzo di Galeotto.” The obvious sense of the passage is that both the book and its author were go-betweens. But, although the go-between of the Italian Romance is called Galahad,—a name which probably was to Dante's Italian contemporaries (as that of Shakespeare's Pandarus was, and is, to Englishmen) a synonym for pimp, yet, in any case, the force of Dante's supposed allusion to him would be lost upon English readers who cannot associate the memory of the “Virgin Knight” with the ignoble character and functions ascribed to the Galahad of the Italian tale. For this reason I am content to take the simple common meaning of the word galeotto, viz., a felon— a scoundrel—the French galérien. Mr. Cary, indeed, translates the line thus—
“The book and writer both were love's purveyors;”but this euphuistic paraphrase appears to me to convey no sense of the denunciatory intensity of Francesca's abrupt and startling exclamation. There is a dramatic effect in the angry suddenness with which the narrator of the tragedy breaks off her narration by an implied curse, just at the point where the situation she is describing was broken into, and abruptly ended, by a crime: and I think it little matters how you translate this word galeotto, so long as you retain unimpaired the imprecatory force which it gives to the whole passage.
O. M. | Orval, or The Fool of Time | |