Part 6 (1/2)
FABLE XIV. [I.601-688]
Jupiter, having changed Io into a cow, to conceal her from the jealousy of Juno, is obliged to give her to that G.o.ddess, who commits her to the charge of the watchful Argus. Jupiter sends Mercury with an injunction to cast Argus into a deep sleep, and to take away his life.
In the meantime Juno looked down upon the midst of the fields, and wondering that the fleeting clouds had made the appearance of night under bright day, she perceived that they were not {the vapors} from a river, nor were they raised from the moist earth, and {then} she looked around {to see} where her husband was, as being one who by this time was full well acquainted with the intrigues of a husband {who had been} so often detected.[99] After she had found him not in heaven, she said, ”I am either deceived, or I am injured;” and having descended from the height of heaven, she alighted upon the earth, and commanded the mists to retire. He had foreseen the approach of his wife, and had changed the features of the daughter of Inachus into a sleek heifer.[100] As a cow, too, {she} is beautiful. The daughter of Saturn, though unwillingly, extols the appearance of the cow; and likewise inquires, whose it is, and whence, or of what herd it is, as though ignorant of the truth.
Jupiter falsely a.s.serts that it was produced out of the earth, that the owner may cease to be inquired after. The daughter of Saturn begs her of him as a gift. What can {he} do? It is a cruel thing to deliver up his {own} mistress, {and} not to give her up is a cause of suspicion. It is shame which persuades him on the one hand, love dissuades him on the other. His shame would have been subdued by his love; but if so trifling a gift as a cow should be refused to the sharer of his descent and his couch, she might {well} seem not to be a cow.
The rival now being given up {to her}, the G.o.ddess did not immediately lay aside all apprehension; and she was {still} afraid of Jupiter, and was fearful of her being stolen, until she gave her to Argus, the son of Aristor, to be kept {by him}. Argus had his head encircled with a hundred eyes. Two of them used to take rest in their turns, the rest watched, and used to keep on duty.[101] In whatever manner he stood, he looked towards Io; although turned away, he {still} used to have Io before his eyes. In the daytime he suffers her to feed; but when the sun is below the deep earth, he shuts her up, and ties a cord round her neck undeserving {of such treatment}. She feeds upon the leaves of the arbute tree, and bitter herbs, and instead of a bed the unfortunate {animal} lies upon the earth, that does not always have gra.s.s {on it}, and drinks of muddy streams. And when, too, she was desirous, as a suppliant, to stretch out her arms to Argus, she had no arms to stretch out to Argus; and she uttered lowings from her mouth, {when} endeavoring to complain.
And at {this} sound she was terrified, and was affrighted at her own voice.
She came, too, to the banks, where she was often wont to sport, the banks of {her father}, Inachus; and soon as she beheld her new horns in the water, she was terrified, and, astonished, she recoiled from herself. The Naiads knew her not, and Inachus himself knew her not, who she was; but she follows her father, and follows her sisters, and suffers herself to be touched, and presents herself to them, as they admire {her}. The aged Inachus held her some gra.s.s he had plucked; she licks his hand, and gives kisses to the palms of her father. Nor does she restrain her tears; and if only words would follow, she would implore his aid, and would declare her name and misfortunes. Instead of words, letters, which her foot traced in the dust, completed the sad discovery of the transformation of her body. ”Ah, wretched me!” exclaims her father Inachus; and clinging to the horns and the neck of the snow-white cow, as she wept, he repeats, ”Ah, wretched me! and art thou my daughter, that hast been sought for by me throughout all lands? While undiscovered, thou wast a lighter grief {to me}, than {now, when} thou art found. Thou art silent, and no words dost thou return in answer to mine; thou only heavest sighs from the depth of thy breast, and what alone thou art able to do, thou answerest in lowings to my words. But I, in ignorance {of this}, was preparing the bridal chamber, and the {nuptial} torches for thee; and my chief hope was that of a son-in-law, my next was that of grandchildren. But now must thou have a mate from the herd, now, {too}, an offspring of the herd. Nor is it possible for me to end grief so great by death; but it is a detriment to be a G.o.d; and the gate of death being shut against me, extends my grief to eternal ages.”
While thus he lamented, the starry Argus removed her away, and carried the daughter, {thus} taken from her father, to distant pastures. He himself, at a distance, occupies the lofty top of a mountain, whence, as he sits, he may look about on all sides.
Nor can the ruler of the G.o.ds above, any longer endure so great miseries of the granddaughter of Phoroneus;[102] and he calls his son {Mercury}, whom the bright Pleiad, {Maia},[103] brought forth, and orders him to put Argus to death. There is {but} little delay to take wings upon his feet, and his soporiferous wand[104] in his hand, and a cap for his hair.[105] After he had put these things in order, the son of Jupiter leaps down from his father's high abode upon the earth, and there he takes off his cap, and lays aside his wings; his wand alone was retained. With this, as a shepherd, he drives some she-goats through the pathless country, taken up as he pa.s.sed along, and plays upon oaten straws joined together.
The keeper appointed by Juno, charmed by the sound of this new contrivance, says, ”Whoever thou art, thou mayst be seated with me upon this stone; for, indeed, in no {other} place is the herbage more abundant for thy flock; and thou seest, too, that the shade is convenient for the shepherds.” The son of Atlas sat down, and with much talking he occupied the pa.s.sing day with his discourse, and by playing upon his joined reeds he tried to overpower his watchful eyes. Yet {the other} strives hard to overcome soft sleep; and although sleep was received by a part of his eyes, yet with a part he still keeps watch. He inquires also (for the pipe had been {but} lately invented) by what method it had been found out.
[Footnote 99: _So often detected._--Ver. 606. Clarke translates 'deprensi toties mariti' by the expression, 'who had been so often catched in his roguery.']
[Footnote 100: _Into a sleek heifer._--Ver. 611. Clarke renders the words, 'nitentem juvencam,' a neat heifer.]
[Footnote 101: _To keep on duty._--Ver. 627. 'In statione manebant.' This is a metaphorical expression, taken from military affairs, as soldiers in turns relieve each other, and take their station, when they keep watch and ward.]
[Footnote 102: _Phoroneus._--Ver. 668. He was the father of Jasius and of Inachus, the parent of Io. Some accounts, however, say that Inachus was the father of Phoroneus, and the son of Ocea.n.u.s.]
[Footnote 103: _Pleiad Maia._--Ver. 670. Maia was one of the seven daughters of Atlas, who were styled Pleiades after they were received among the constellations.]
[Footnote 104: _Soporiferous wand._--Ver. 671. This was the 'caduceus,' or staff, with which Mercury summoned the souls of the departed from the shades, induced slumber, and did other offices pertaining to his capacity as the herald and messenger of Jupiter.
It was represented as an olive branch, wreathed with two snakes.
In time of war, heralds and amba.s.sadors, among the Greeks, carried a 'caduceus.' It was not used by the Romans.]
[Footnote 105: _A cap for his hair._--Ver. 672. This was a cap called 'Petasus.' It had broad brims, and was not unlike the 'causia,' or Macedonian hat, except that the brims of the latter were turned up at the sides.]
EXPLANATION.
The story of the Metamorphosis of Io has been already enlarged upon in the Explanation of the preceding Fable. It may, however, not be irrelevant to observe, that myths, or mythological stories or fables, are frequently based upon some true history, corrupted by tradition in lapse of time. The poets, too, giving loose to their fancy in their love of the marvellous, have still further disfigured the original story; so that it is in most instances extremely difficult to trace back the facts to their primitive simplicity, by a satisfactory explanation of each circ.u.mstance attending them, either upon a philosophical, or an historical principle of solution.
FABLE XV. [I.689-712]
Pan, falling in love with the Nymph Syrinx, she flies from him; on which he pursues her. Syrinx, arrested in her flight by the waves of the river Ladon, invokes the aid of her sisters, the Naiads, who change her into reeds. Pan unites them into an instrument with seven pipes, which bears the name of the Nymph.
Then the G.o.d says, ”In the cold mountains of Arcadia, among the Hamadryads of Nonacris,[106] there was one Naiad very famous; the Nymphs called her Syrinx. And not once {alone} had she escaped the Satyrs as they pursued, and whatever G.o.ds either the shady grove or the fruitful fields have {in them}. In her pursuits and her virginity itself she used to devote herself to the Ortygian G.o.ddess;[107] and being clothed after the fas.h.i.+on of Diana, she might have deceived one, and might have been supposed to be the daughter of Latona, if she had not had a bow of cornel wood, the other, {a bow} of gold; and even then did she {sometimes} deceive {people}. Pan spies her as she is returning from the hill of Lycaeus, and having his head crowned with sharp pine leaves, he utters such words as these;” it remained {for Mercury} to repeat the words, and how that the Nymph, slighting his suit, fled through pathless spots, until she came to the gentle stream of sandy Ladon;[108] and that here, the waters stopping her course, she prayed to her watery sisters, that they would change her; and {how} that Pan, when he was thinking that Syrinx was now caught by him, had seized hold of some reeds of the marsh, instead of the body of the Nymph; and {how}, while he was sighing there, the winds moving amid the reeds had made a murmuring noise, and like one complaining; and {how} that, charmed by this new discovery and the sweetness of the sound, he had said, ”This mode of converse with thee shall ever remain with me;” and that accordingly, unequal reeds being stuck together among themselves by a cement of wax, had {since} retained the name of the damsel.
[Footnote 106: _Nonacris._--Ver. 690. Nonacris was the name of both a mountain and a city of Arcadia, in the Peloponnesus.]
[Footnote 107: _The Ortygian G.o.ddess._--Ver. 694. Diana is called ”Ortygian,” from the isle of Delos, where she was born, one of whose names was Ortygia, from the quant.i.ty of quails, ??t??e?, there found.]