Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid & Henry Thomas Riley
Ovid
Glaucus having observed some fishes which he has laid upon the grass revive and leap again into the water, is desirous to try the influence of the grass on himself. Putting some of it into his mouth, he immediately becomes mad, and leaping into the sea, is transformed into a sea God.
Galatea ceases77 speaking, and the company breaking up, they depart; and the Nereids swim in the becalmed waves. Scylla returns, (for, in truth, she does not trust herself in the midst of the ocean) and either wanders about without garments on the thirsty sand, or, when she is tired, having lighted upon some lonely recess of the sea, cools her limbs in the enclosed waves. When, lo! cleaving the deep, Glaucus comes, a new-made inhabitant of the deep sea, his limbs having been lately transformed at Anthedon,78 near Eubœa; and he lingers from passion for the maiden now seen, and utters whatever words he thinks may detain her as she flies. Yet still she flies, and, swift through fear, she arrives at the top of a mountain, situate near the shore.
In front of the sea, there is a huge ridge, terminating in one summit, bending for a long distance over the waves, and without trees. Here she stands, and secured by the place, ignorant whether he is a monster or a God, she both admires his colour, and his flowing hair that covers his shoulders and his back, and how a wreathed fish closes the extremity of his groin. This he perceives; and leaning upon a rock that stands hard by, he says, “Maiden, I am no monster, no savage beast; I am a God of the waters: nor have Proteus, and Triton, and Palæmon, the son of Athamas, a more uncontrolled reign over the deep. Yet formerly I was a mortal; but, still, devoted to the deep sea, even then was I employed in it. For, at one time, I used to drag the nets that swept up the fish; at another time, seated on a rock, I managed the line with the rod. The shore was adjacent to a verdant meadow, one part of which was surrounded with water, the other with grass, which, neither the horned heifers had hurt with their browsing, nor had you, ye harmless sheep, nor you, ye shaggy goats, ever cropped it. No industrious bee took thence the collected blossoms, no festive garlands were gathered thence for the head; and no mower’s hands had ever cut it. I was the first to be seated on that turf, while I was drying the dripping nets. And that I might count in their order the fish that I had taken; I laid out those upon it which either chance had driven to my nets, or their own credulity to my barbed hooks.
“The thing is like a fiction (but of what use is it to me to coin fictions?); on touching the grass my prey began to move, and to shift their sides, and to skip about on the land, as though in the sea. And while I both paused and wondered, the whole batch flew off to the waves, and left behind their new master and the shore. I was amazed, and, in doubt for a long time, I considered what could be the cause; whether some Divinity had done this, or whether the juice of some herb. ‘And yet,’ said I, ‘what herb has these properties?’ and with my hand I plucked the grass, and I chewed it, so plucked, with my teeth. Hardly had my throat well swallowed the unknown juices, when I suddenly felt my entrails inwardly throb, and my mind taken possession of by the passions of another nature. Nor could I stay in that place; and I exclaimed, ‘Farewell, land, never more to be revisited;’ and plunged my body beneath the deep. The Gods of the sea vouchsafed me, on being received by them, kindred honours, and they entreated Oceanus and Tethys to take away from me whatever mortality I bore. By them was I purified; and a charm being repeated over me nine times, that washes away all guilt, I was commanded to put my breast beneath a hundred streams.
“There was no delay; rivers issuing from different springs, and whole seas, were poured over my head. Thus far I can relate to thee what happened worthy to be related, and thus far do I remember; but my understanding was not conscious of the rest. When it returned to me, I found myself different throughout all my body from what I was before, and not the same in mind. Then, for the first time, did I behold this beard, green with its deep colour, and my flowing hair, which I sweep along the spacious seas, and my huge shoulders, and my azurecoloured arms, and the extremities of my legs tapering in the form of a finny fish. But still, what does this form avail me, what to have pleased the ocean Deities, and what to be a God, if thou art not moved by these things?”
As he was saying such things as these, and about to say still more, Scylla left the God. He was enraged, and, provoked at the repulse, he repaired to the marvellous court of Circe, the daughter of Titan.
Footnotes:
77. Ceases.]—Ver. 898. ‘Desierat Galatea loqui,’ is translated by Clarke, ‘Galatea gave over talking.’
78. Anthedon.]—Ver. 905. Anthedon was a maritime city of Bœotia, only separated from the Island of Eubœa, by the narrow strait of the Euripus.