Book 15

Myscelos is warned, in a dream, to leave Argos, and to settle in Italy. When on the point of departing, he is seized under a law which forbids the Argives to leave the city without the permission of the magistrates. Being brought up for judgment, through a miracle he is acquitted. He retires to Italy, where he builds the city of Crotona.

In a dream, Myscelos is warned to leave Argos and settle in Italy. Just as he is about to leave, he is seized under a law forbidding Argives to leave the city without permission from the magistrates. He is brought to trial and miraculously acquitted. He goes to Italy, where he builds the city of Crotona.

Meanwhile, one is being sought who can bear a weight of such magnitude, and can succeed a king so great. Fame, the harbinger of truth, destines the illustrious Numa for the sovereign power. He does not deem it sufficient to be acquainted with the ceremonials of the Sabine nation; in his expansive mind he conceives greater views, and inquires into the nature of things. ’Twas love of this pursuit, his country and cares left behind, that caused him to penetrate to the city of the stranger Hercules. To him, making the inquiry what founder it was that had erected a Grecian city on the Italian shores, one of the more aged natives, who was not unacquainted with the history of the past, thus replied:

Meanwhile, a search was underway for someone who could bear such a great burden and succeed so great a king. Fame, the herald of truth, chose the illustrious Numa for sovereign power. Numa was not content merely to know the ceremonies of the Sabine nation. His wide-ranging mind sought greater knowledge, and he studied the nature of things. His love of this pursuit led him to leave his country and his cares behind. He traveled to the city of Hercules, who had come there as a stranger. Numa asked who had founded a Grecian city on the shores of Italy. One of the older natives, who knew the history of the past, replied:

“The son of Jove, enriched with the oxen of Iberia, is said to have reached the Lacinian shores,¹¹⁸⁷ from the ocean, after a prosperous voyage, and, while his herd was straying along the soft pastures, himself to have entered the abode of the great Croton, no inhospitable dwelling, and to have rested in repose after his prolonged labours, and to have said thus at departing: ‘In the time of thy grandsons this shall be the site of a city;’ and his promise was fulfilled. For there was a certain Myscelos, the son of Alemon, an Argive, most favoured by the Gods in those times. Lying upon him, as he is overwhelmed with the drowsiness of sleep, the club-bearer, Hercules, addresses him: ‘Come, now, desert thy native abodes; go, and repair to the pebbly streams of the distant Æsar.’¹¹⁸⁸ And he utters threats, many and fearful, if he does not obey: after that, at once both sleep and the God depart. The son of Alemon arises, and ponders his recent vision in his thoughtful mind; and for a long time his opinions are divided among themselves. The Deity orders him to depart; the laws forbid his going; and death has been awarded as the punishment of him who attempts to leave his country.

“The son of Jove, enriched with the oxen of Iberia, is said to have sailed from the ocean to the Lacinian shores.¹¹⁸⁷ His voyage had been successful. While his herd wandered through the soft pastures, he entered the home of the great Croton, who welcomed him. There he rested after his long labors. As he left, he said: ‘In the time of your grandsons, a city will stand here.’ His promise came true. In those days, there was an Argive named Myscelos, the son of Alemon, whom the Gods favored above all others. As Myscelos lay deep in sleep, the club-bearer, Hercules, appeared over him and spoke: ‘Come, now, leave your native home. Go and make your way to the pebbly streams of the distant Æsar.’¹¹⁸⁸ He threatened Myscelos with many terrible things if he did not obey. Then sleep and the God vanished at once. The son of Alemon rose and thought carefully about his recent vision. For a long time, he was torn between opposing thoughts. The Deity ordered him to leave, but the laws forbade him to go. Anyone who tried to leave his country faced death as punishment.

“The brilliant Sun had now hidden his shining head in the ocean, and darkest Night had put forth her starry face, when the same God seemed to be present, and to give the same commands, and to utter threats, more numerous and more severe, if he does not obey. He was alarmed; and now he was also preparing to transfer his country’s home to a new settlement, when a rumour arose in the city, and he was accused of holding the laws in contempt. And, when the accusation had first been made, and his crime was evident, proved without a witness, the accused, in neglected garb, raising his face and his hands towards the Gods above, says, ‘Oh thou! for whom the twice six labours have created the privilege of the heavens, aid me, I pray; for thou wast the cause of my offence.’ It was the ancient custom, by means of white and black pebbles, with the one to condemn the accused, with the other to acquit them of the charge; and on this occasion thus was the sad sentence passed, and every black pebble was cast into the ruthless urn. Soon as it, being inverted, poured forth the pebbles to be counted, the colour of them all was changed from black to white, and the sentence, changed to a favourable one by the aid of Hercules, acquitted the son of Alemon.

“The brilliant Sun had now hidden his shining head in the ocean, and darkest Night had shown her starry face. Then the same God seemed to appear and give the same commands. He also threatened even more terrible punishments if the man did not obey. The man was alarmed and was now preparing to move his country’s home to a new settlement. Then a rumor spread through the city, and he was accused of treating the laws with contempt. Once the accusation was made, his crime was clear without a witness. Dressed in neglected clothes, the accused raised his face and hands toward the Gods above and said, ‘You whose twelve labors earned you a place in heaven, please help me. You were the cause of my offense.’ According to an ancient custom, black and white pebbles were used to judge the accused. Black pebbles condemned them, and white pebbles cleared them of the charge. This time, the grim verdict was passed in the same way. Every pebble cast into the merciless urn was black. But when the urn was turned over and the pebbles poured out to be counted, every one had changed from black to white. With Hercules’ help, the verdict was changed in his favor, and the son of Alemon was acquitted.

“He gives thanks to the parent, the son of Amphitryon,¹¹⁸⁹ and with favouring gales sails over the Ionian sea, and passes by the Lacedæmonian Tarentum,¹¹⁹⁰ and Sybaris, and the Salentine Neæthus,¹¹⁹¹ and the bay of Thurium,¹¹⁹² and Temesa, and the fields of Iapyx;¹¹⁹³ and having with difficulty coasted along the spots which skirt these shores, he finds the destined mouth of the river Æsar; and, not far thence, a mound, beneath which the ground was covering the sacred bones of Croton. And there, on the appointed land, did he found his walls, and he transferred the name of him that was there entombed to his city. By established tradition, it was known that such was the original of that place, and of the city built on the Italian coasts.”

“He thanks the father, the son of Amphitryon,¹¹⁸⁹ and sails across the Ionian sea with favorable winds. He passes Lacedæmonian Tarentum,¹¹⁹⁰ Sybaris, the Salentine Neæthus,¹¹⁹¹ the bay of Thurium,¹¹⁹² Temesa, and the fields of Iapyx.¹¹⁹³ After making his way with difficulty along these shores, he finds the destined mouth of the river Æsar. Not far from there, he finds a mound covering the sacred bones of Croton. There, on the appointed land, he builds his city walls and names the city after the man buried there. According to established tradition, this was the origin of the place and the city built on the Italian coast.”

Pythagoras comes to the city of Crotona, and teaches the principles of his philosophy. His reputation draws Numa Pompilius to hear his discourses; on which he expounds his principles, and, more especially, enlarges on the transmigration of the soul, and the practice of eating animal food.

Pythagoras comes to the city of Crotona and teaches the principles of his philosophy. His reputation draws Numa Pompilius to hear him speak. Pythagoras explains his principles, especially the passage of the soul from one body to another and the practice of eating animals.

There was a man, a Samian by birth; but he had fled from both Samos and its rulers,¹¹⁹⁴ and, through hatred of tyranny, he was a voluntary exile. He too, mentally, held converse with the Gods, although far distant in the region of the heavens; and what nature refused to human vision, he viewed with the eyes of his mind. And when he had examined all things with his mind, and with watchful study, he gave them to be learned by the public; and he sought the crowds of people as they sat in silence, and wondered at the revealed origin of the vast universe, and the cause of things, and what nature meant, and what was God; whence came the snow, what was the cause of lightning; whether it was Jupiter, or whether the winds that thundered when the cloud was rent asunder; what it was that shook the earth; by what laws the stars took their course; and whatever besides lay concealed from mortals.

There was a man born in Samos who had fled both the island and its rulers.¹¹⁹⁴ He had chosen exile because he hated tyranny. In his mind, he too spoke with the Gods, though they were far away in heaven. He saw with his mind’s eye what nature kept hidden from human sight. After examining all things in his mind and studying them closely, he taught the public what he had learned. He sought out crowds of people as they sat in silence, marveling at what he revealed. He told them about the origin of the vast universe, the cause of things, what nature meant, and what God was. He explained where snow came from and what caused lightning. He asked whether it was Jupiter or the winds that thundered when a cloud split apart. He explained what shook the earth, the laws that governed the stars’ courses, and whatever else lay hidden from mortals.

He, too, was the first to forbid animals to be served up at table, and he was the first that opened his lips, learned indeed, but still not obtaining credit, in such words as these: “Forbear, mortals, to pollute your bodies with such abominable food. There is the corn; there are the apples that bear down the branches by their weight, and there are the grapes swelling upon the vines; there are the herbs that are pleasant; there are some that can become tender, and be softened by the action of fire. The flowing milk, too, is not denied you, nor honey redolent of the bloom of the thyme. The lavish Earth yields her riches, and her agreable food, and affords dainties without slaughter and bloodshed. The beasts satisfy their hunger with flesh; and yet not all of them; for the horse, and the sheep, and the herds subsist on grass. But those whose disposition is cruel and fierce, the Armenian tigers, and the raging lions, and the bears together with the wolves, revel in their diet with blood. Alas! what a crime is it, for entrails to be buried in entrails, and for one ravening body to grow fat on other carcases crammed into it; and for one living creature to exist through the death of another living creature! And does, forsooth! amid so great an abundance, which the earth, that best of mothers, produces, nothing delight you but to gnaw with savage teeth the sad produce of your wounds, and to revive the habits of the Cyclops? And can you not appease the hunger of a voracious and ill-regulated stomach unless you first destroy another? But that age of old, to which we have given the name of ‘Golden,’ was blest in the produce of the trees, and in the herbs which the earth produces, and it did not pollute the mouth with blood.

He was also the first to forbid serving animals as food. He was the first to speak these words, learned though they were, without being believed: “Mortals, do not pollute your bodies with such disgusting food. There is grain, and apples that weigh down the branches, and there are grapes swelling on the vines. There are pleasant herbs, and some can be made tender and soft by the action of fire. You are not denied flowing milk, or honey fragrant with thyme blossoms. The generous Earth offers her riches and her pleasant food. She provides delicacies without slaughter or bloodshed. Beasts satisfy their hunger with flesh, but not all of them do. Horses, sheep, and cattle live on grass. But those with cruel and fierce natures feast on bloody flesh. These are the Armenian tigers, raging lions, bears, and wolves. Alas! What a crime it is to bury entrails inside entrails! One hungry body grows fat by stuffing itself with the carcasses of others. One living creature survives through the death of another! The earth, that best of mothers, produces such abundance. Yet does nothing please you but to gnaw with savage teeth the sad produce of your wounds? Must you revive the habits of the Cyclops? Can you not satisfy your greedy, uncontrolled stomach without first destroying another creature? But the age of old, which we call ‘Golden,’ was blessed with fruit from the trees and herbs from the earth. It did not pollute the mouth with blood.

“Then, both did the birds move their wings in safety in the air, and the hare without fear wander in the midst of the fields; then its own credulity had not suspended the fish from the hook; every place was without treachery, and in dread of no injury, and was full of peace. Afterwards, some one, no good adviser¹¹⁹⁵ (whoever among mortals he might have been), envied this simple food, and engulphed in his greedy paunch victuals made from a carcase; ’twas he that opened the path to wickedness; and I can believe that the steel, since stained with blood, first grew warm from the slaughter of wild beasts. And that had been sufficient. I confess that the bodies of animals that seek our destruction are put to death with no breach of the sacred laws; but, although they might be put to death, yet they were not to be eaten as well. Then this wickedness proceeded still further; and the swine is believed to have deserved death as the first victim, because it grubbed up the seeds with its turned-up snout, and cut short the hopes of the year. Having gnawed the vine, the goat was led¹¹⁹⁶ for slaughter to the altars of the avenging Bacchus. Their own faults were the ruin of the two. But why have you deserved this, ye sheep? a harmless breed, and born for the service of man; who carry the nectar in your full udders; who afford your wool as soft coverings for us, and who assist us more by your life than by your death. Why have the oxen deserved this, an animal without guile and deceit, innocent, harmless, born to endure labour? In fact, the man is ungrateful, and not worthy of the gifts of the harvest, who could, just after taking off the weight of the curving plough, slaughter the tiller of his fields; who could strike, with the axe, that neck worn bare with labour, through which he had so oft turned up the hard ground, and had afforded so many a harvest.

“Then birds could safely move their wings in the air, and hares wandered through the fields without fear. Fish had not yet been caught on hooks through their own trustfulness. Everywhere was free from treachery and fear of harm, and full of peace. Afterward, someone, a poor adviser¹¹⁹⁵ (whoever among mortals he was), came to resent this simple food. He stuffed his greedy belly with meat from a carcass. He was the one who opened the way to wickedness. I can believe that steel, since stained with blood, first grew warm from the slaughter of wild beasts. And that would have been enough. I admit that animals seeking to destroy us can be killed without breaking sacred laws. But although they could be killed, they were not to be eaten as well. Then this wickedness went further. The pig is believed to have deserved death as the first victim. It dug up seeds with its upturned snout and destroyed the hopes of the year’s harvest. After gnawing the vine, the goat was led¹¹⁹⁶ to the altars of the vengeful Bacchus for slaughter. Their own faults brought ruin to both animals. But what have you done to deserve this, sheep? You are a harmless breed, born to serve humans. You carry nectar in your full udders and give us wool for soft coverings. You help us more by living than by dying. What have oxen done to deserve this? They are free from cunning and deceit, innocent, harmless, and born to work. A man is ungrateful and unworthy of the harvest’s gifts if he can slaughter the creature that tills his fields, just after freeing it from the weight of the curved plough. He strikes with an axe the neck worn bare by labor. Through that neck, the ox had so often turned up the hard ground and provided so many harvests.

“And it is not enough for such wickedness to be committed; they have imputed to the Gods themselves this abomination; and they believe that a Deity in the heavens can rejoice in the slaughter of the laborious ox. A victim free from a blemish, and most beauteous in form (for ’tis being sightly that brings destruction), adorned with garlands and gold, is placed upon the altars, and, in its ignorance, it hears one praying, and sees the corn, which it has helped to produce, placed on its forehead between its horns; and, felled, it stains with its blood the knives perhaps before seen by it in the limpid water. Immediately, they examine the entrails snatched from its throbbing breast, and in them they seek out the intentions of the Deities. Whence comes it that men have so great a hankering for forbidden food? Do you presume to feed on flesh, O race of mortals? Do it not, I beseech you; and give attention to my exhortations. And when you shall be presenting the limbs of slaughtered oxen to your palates, know and consider that you are devouring your tillers of the ground. And since a God impels me to speak, I will duly obey the God that so prompts me to speak; and I will pronounce my own Delphic warnings, and disclose the heavens themselves; and I will reveal the oracles of the Divine will. I will sing of wondrous things, never investigated by the intellects of the ancients, and things which have long lain concealed. It delights me to range among the lofty stars; it delights me, having left the earth and this sluggish spot far behind, to be borne amid the clouds, and to be supported on the shoulders of the mighty Atlas; and to look down from afar on minds wandering in uncertainty, and devoid of reason; and so to advise them alarmed and dreading extinction, and to unfold the range of things ordained by fate.

“And it is not enough for people to commit such wickedness. They have attributed this abomination to the Gods themselves. They believe that a Deity in heaven can rejoice in the slaughter of the hardworking ox. A flawless victim, beautiful in form, is placed on the altars, adorned with garlands and gold. Its beauty brings about its destruction. Unaware of its fate, it hears someone praying. It sees the grain it helped produce placed on its forehead between its horns. Then it is struck down, staining with its blood the knives it may have seen before in the clear water. At once, they tear the entrails from its throbbing chest and examine them for signs of the Deities’ intentions. Why do people have such a craving for forbidden food? Do you dare to feed on flesh, O race of mortals? Please, do not. Listen to my warnings. When you offer your palates the limbs of slaughtered oxen, know and remember that you are devouring your tillers of the ground. And since a God urges me to speak, I will obey the God who so urges me. I will give my own Delphic warnings and reveal the heavens themselves. I will reveal the oracles of the Divine will. I will sing of wonders the ancients never explored with their minds, and of things long hidden. I delight in roaming among the lofty stars. I delight in leaving the earth and this sluggish spot far behind, to be carried among the clouds and supported on the shoulders of mighty Atlas. From there, I delight in looking down on minds wandering in uncertainty and lacking reason. I delight in advising those who are alarmed and fear extinction, and in revealing the course of things ordained by fate.”

“O race! stricken by the alarms of icy death, why do you dread Styx? why the shades, why empty names, the stock subjects of the poets, and the atonements of an imaginary world? Whether the funeral pile consumes your bodies with flames, or old age with gradual dissolution, believe that they cannot suffer any injury. Souls are not subject to death; and having left their former abode, they ever inhabit new dwellings, and, there received, live on.

“O people, gripped by fear of icy death, why do you dread Styx? Why fear the shades and empty names that poets so often write about? Why fear the punishments of an imaginary world? Whether flames consume your bodies on the funeral pyre or old age gradually wears them away, believe that souls cannot be harmed. Souls do not die. After leaving their former home, they always enter new dwellings and live on there.

“I, myself, for I remember it, in the days of the Trojan war, was Euphorbus,¹¹⁹⁷ the son of Panthoüs, in whose opposing breast once was planted the heavy spear of the younger son of Atreus. I lately recognised the shield, once the burden of my left arm, in the temple of Juno, at Argos, the realm of Abas. All things are ever changing; nothing perishes. The soul wanders about and comes from that spot to this, from this to that, and takes possession of any limbs whatever; it both passes from the beasts to human bodies, and so does our soul into the beasts; and in no lapse of time does it perish. And as the pliable wax is moulded into new forms, and no longer abides as it was before, nor preserves the same shape, but yet is still the same wax, so I tell you that the soul is ever the same, but passes into different forms. Therefore, that natural affection may not be vanquished by the craving of the appetite, cease, I warn you, to expel the souls of your kindred from their bodies by this dreadful slaughter; and let not blood be nourished with blood.

“I remember that during the Trojan war, I myself was Euphorbus,¹¹⁹⁷ the son of Panthoüs. I faced the younger son of Atreus, whose heavy spear pierced my breast. Recently, in the temple of Juno at Argos, the realm of Abas, I recognized my shield. It had once been carried on my left arm. All things are always changing. Nothing perishes. The soul wanders from place to place and takes possession of any body. It passes from beasts into human bodies, and our soul passes into beasts. It never perishes, no matter how much time passes. Pliable wax is shaped into new forms. It no longer remains as it was before or keeps the same shape, but it is still the same wax. In the same way, I tell you, the soul is always the same, but passes into different forms. Therefore, so that hunger does not overcome natural affection, stop this dreadful slaughter, I warn you. Do not drive the souls of your kindred from their bodies. Do not let blood be nourished with blood.

“And, since I am now borne over the wide ocean, and I have given my full sails to the winds, there is nothing in all the world that continues in the same state. All things are flowing onward,¹¹⁹⁸ and every shape is assumed in a fleeting course. Even time itself glides on with a constant progress, no otherwise than a river. For neither can the river, nor the fleeting hour stop in its course; but, as wave is impelled by wave, and the one before is pressed on by that which follows, and itself presses on that before it; so do the moments similarly fly on, and similarly do they follow, and they are ever renewed. For the moment which was before, is past; and that which was not, now exists; and every minute is replaced. You see, too, the night emerge and proceed onward to the dawn, and this brilliant light of the day succeed the dark night. Nor is there the same appearance in the heavens, when all things in their weariness lie in the midst of repose, and when Lucifer is coming forth on his white steed; and, again, there is another appearance, when Aurora, the daughter of Pallas, preceding the day, tints the world about to be delivered to Phœbus. The disk itself of that God, when it is rising from beneath the earth, is of ruddy colour in the morning, and when it is hiding beneath the earth it is of a ruddy colour. At its height it is of brilliant whiteness, because there the nature of the æther is purer, and far away, he avoids all infection from the earth. Nor can there ever be the same or a similar appearance of the nocturnal Diana; and always that of the present day is less than on the morrow, if she is on the increase; but greater if she is contracting her orb.

“And since I am now carried across the wide ocean, with my sails full in the wind, nothing in the world remains unchanged. All things flow onward,¹¹⁹⁸ and every form is fleeting. Even time itself moves steadily onward, just like a river. Neither the river nor the passing hour can stop. Wave pushes wave, each one pressed forward by the next and pressing the one before it. So the moments fly onward, following one another and forever renewed. The moment before is past, and what did not exist now exists. Every minute is replaced. You see night pass into dawn, and the brilliant light of day follow the dark night. The sky looks different when all things lie weary and at rest than when Lucifer comes forth on his white horse. It looks different again when Aurora, daughter of Pallas, goes before the day. She colors the world that will soon be given over to Phœbus. The disk of that God is red in the morning when it rises from beneath the earth. It is red again when it sinks beneath the earth. At its height, it shines white because the ether there is purer. So far away, he escapes all contamination from the earth. The nighttime Diana never looks exactly or even nearly the same. Her disk is always smaller today than tomorrow if she is waxing, but larger if she is waning.

“And further. Do you not see the year, affording a resemblance of our life, assume four different appearances? for, in early Spring, it is mild, and like a nursling, and greatly resembling the age of youth. Then, the blade is shooting, and void of strength, it swells, and is flaccid, and delights the husbandman in his expectations. Then, all things are in blossom, and the genial meadow smiles with the tints of its flowers; and not as yet is there any vigour in the leaves. The year now waxing stronger, after the Spring, passes into the Summer; and in its youth it becomes robust. And indeed no season is there more vigorous, or more fruitful, or which glows with greater warmth. Autumn follows, the ardour of youth now removed, ripe, and placed between youth and old age, moderate in his temperature, with a few white hairs sprinkled over his temples. Then comes aged Winter, repulsive with his tremulous steps, either stript of his locks, or white with those which he has.

“And there is more. Don’t you see how the year resembles our lives, taking on four different forms? In early spring, the year is mild, like a baby, and much like the time of youth. Then the young shoots emerge. They swell, weak and soft, and fill the farmer with hope. Everything is in bloom, and the pleasant meadow smiles with the colors of its flowers. But the leaves are not yet strong. The year now grows stronger and passes from spring into summer. In its youth, it becomes robust. No season is more vigorous or fruitful, or glows with greater warmth. Autumn follows, with the heat of youth now gone. It is mature, between youth and old age, mild in temperature, with a few white hairs at its temples. Then comes old Winter, unpleasant to look at, walking with trembling steps. He is either bald or has white hair.”

“Our own bodies too are changing always and without any intermission, and to-morrow we shall not be what we were or what we now are. The time was, when only as embryos, and the earliest hope of human beings, we lived in the womb of the mother. Nature applied her skilful hands, and willed not that our bodies should be tortured by being shut up within the entrails of the distended parent, and brought us forth from our dwelling into the vacant air. Brought to light, the infant lies without any strength; soon, like a quadruped, it uses its limbs after the manner of the brutes; and by degrees it stands upright, shaking, and with knees still unsteady, the sinews being supported by some assistance. Then he becomes strong and swift, and passes over the hours of youth; and the years of middle age, too, now past, he glides adown the steep path of declining age. This undermines and destroys the robustness of former years; and Milo,¹¹⁹⁹ now grown old, weeps when he sees the arms, which equalled those of Hercules in the massiveness of the solid muscles, hang weak and exhausted. The daughter of Tyndarus weeps, too, as she beholds in her mirror the wrinkles of old age, and enquires of herself why it is that she was twice ravished. Thou, Time, the consumer of all things, and thou, hateful Old Age, together destroy all things; and, by degrees ye consume each thing, decayed by the teeth of age, with a slow death.

“Our bodies are always changing, without a moment’s pause. Tomorrow we will not be what we were or what we now are. Once we lived in our mothers’ wombs, mere embryos and the earliest hope of human beings. Nature worked with skillful hands. She would not let our bodies be tortured by confinement inside our mothers’ swollen bodies. She brought us out of that dwelling and into the open air. Once born, the infant lies without any strength. Soon, like a four-legged animal, it uses its limbs as beasts do. Gradually, it stands upright, trembling on unsteady knees, its muscles supported by some help. Then it grows strong and swift and passes through youth. Middle age also passes, and the person glides down the steep path of declining years. Old age undermines and destroys the strength of earlier years. Milo,¹¹⁹⁹ now old, weeps when he sees his arms hanging weak and exhausted. Their solid muscles once rivaled those of Hercules in size. The daughter of Tyndarus also weeps as she sees the wrinkles of old age in her mirror. She asks herself why she was abducted twice. You, Time, the consumer of all things, and you, hateful Old Age, together destroy all things. The teeth of age decay everything, and you gradually consume each thing in a slow death.

“These things too, which we call elements, are not of unchanging duration; pay attention, and I will teach you what changes they undergo.

“These things we call elements do not remain unchanged forever either. Pay attention, and I will teach you how they change.

“The everlasting universe contains four elementary bodies. Two of these, namely, earth and water, are heavy, and are borne downwards by their weight; and as many are devoid of weight, and air, and fire still purer than air, nothing pressing them, seek the higher regions. Although these are separated in space, yet all things are made from them, and are resolved into them. Both the earth dissolving distils into flowing water; the water, too, evaporating, departs in the breezes and the air; its weight being removed again, the most subtle air shoots upwards into the fires of the æther on high. Thence do they return back again, and the same order is unravelled; for fire becoming gross, passes into dense air; this changes into water, and earth is formed of the water made dense. Nor does its own form remain to each; and nature, the renewer of all things, re-forms one shape from another. And, believe me, in this universe so vast, nothing perishes; but it varies and changes its appearance; and to begin to be something different from what it was before, is called being born; and to cease to be the same thing, is to be said to die. Whereas, perhaps, those things are transferred hither, and these things thither; yet, in the whole, all things ever exist.

“The everlasting universe contains four basic elements. Two of these, namely, earth and water, are heavy and sink under their own weight. The other two are weightless. Air and fire, which is even purer than air, rise when nothing holds them down. Although the elements are separated in space, all things are made from them and break down into them. Earth dissolves and flows into water. Water, in turn, evaporates and passes into the breezes and the air. When it loses its weight, the finest air rises into the fires of the ether above. From there, the elements return again, and the same sequence unfolds in reverse. Fire thickens and becomes dense air. The air changes into water, and earth forms as the water becomes denser. No element keeps its own form. Nature, the renewer of all things, makes one shape from another. Believe me, in this vast universe, nothing perishes. Everything varies and changes its appearance. When something begins to be different from what it was before, we call it being born. When it ceases to be the same thing, we say it dies. Perhaps these things move here and those things move there. Yet, in the whole, all things ever exist.”

“For my part, I cannot believe that anything lasts long under the same form. ’Twas thus, ye ages, that ye came down to the iron from the gold; ’tis thus, that thou hast so often changed the lot of various places. I have beheld that as sea, which once had been the most solid earth. I have seen land made from the sea; and far away from the ocean the sea-shells lay, and old anchors were found there on the tops of the mountains. That which was a plain, a current of water has made into a valley, and by a flood the mountain has been levelled into a plain; the ground that was swampy is parched with dry sand; and places which have endured drought, are wet with standing pools. Here nature has opened fresh springs, but there she has shut them up; and rivers have burst forth, aroused by ancient earthquakes; or, vanishing, they have subsided.

“For my part, I cannot believe that anything keeps the same form for long. Ages have passed from gold to iron. In the same way, the fortunes of various places have often changed. I have seen as sea what was once solid land. I have seen land made from the sea. Far from the ocean, seashells lay scattered, and old anchors were found there on mountaintops. A stream has turned a plain into a valley, and a flood has leveled a mountain into a plain. Swampy ground has become dry sand, and places that once suffered drought are now wet with standing pools. Here nature has opened fresh springs, but there it has closed them. Rivers have burst forth, stirred by ancient earthquakes, while others have disappeared beneath the ground.”

“Thus, after the Lycus¹²⁰⁰ has been swallowed up by a chasm in the earth, it burst forth far thence, and springs up afresh at another mouth. Thus the great Erasinus¹²⁰¹ is at one time swallowed up, and then flowing with its stream concealed, is cast up again on the Argive plains. They say, too, that the Mysus, tired of its spring and of its former banks, now flows in another direction, as the Caicus. The Amenanus,¹²⁰² too, at one time flows, rolling along the Sicilian sands, and at another is dry, its springs being stopped up. Formerly, the water of the Anigros¹²⁰³ was used for drinking; it now pours out water which you would decline to touch; since, (unless all credit must be denied to the poets), the Centaurs, the double-limbed mortals, there washed the wounds which the bow of the club-bearing Hercules had made. And what besides? Does not the Hypanis¹²⁰⁴ too, which before was sweet, rising from the Scythian mountains, become impregnated with bitter salts? Antissa,¹²⁰⁵ Pharos,¹²⁰⁶ and Phœnician Tyre,¹²⁰⁷ were once surrounded by waves; no one of these is now an island. The ancient inhabitants had Leucas¹²⁰⁸ annexed to the continent; now the sea surrounds it. Zancle,¹²⁰⁹ too, is said to have been united to Italy, until the sea cut off the neighbouring region, and repelled the land with its waves flowing between.

“Thus, after the Lycus¹²⁰⁰ disappears into a chasm in the earth, it bursts forth far away through another opening. Likewise, the great Erasinus¹²⁰¹ disappears underground and flows out of sight. Then it emerges again on the Argive plains. They say, too, that the Mysus grew tired of its spring and its old banks. It now flows in another direction, as the Caicus. The Amenanus¹²⁰² sometimes flows across the Sicilian sands, and at other times runs dry when its springs are blocked. Once, the water of the Anigros¹²⁰³ was fit to drink. Now it pours out water you would refuse to touch. For, unless we must deny all credit to the poets, the Centaurs, the double-limbed mortals, washed their wounds there. The wounds had been made by the bow of the club-bearing Hercules. And what else? Does not the Hypanis¹²⁰⁴ also become bitter with salts? Its water was sweet before, when it rose from the Scythian mountains. Antissa¹²⁰⁵, Pharos¹²⁰⁶, and Phœnician Tyre¹²⁰⁷ were once surrounded by waves. None of them is an island now. In ancient times, Leucas¹²⁰⁸ was joined to the mainland. Now the sea surrounds it. Zancle¹²⁰⁹, too, is said to have been joined to Italy. Then the sea cut off the neighboring region and pushed the land apart, its waves flowing between them.

“Should you seek Helice and Buris,¹²¹⁰ cities of Achaia, you will find them beneath the waves, and the sailors are still wont to point out these levelled towns, with their walls buried under water.

“If you look for Helice and Buris,¹²¹⁰ cities of Achaia, you will find them beneath the waves. Sailors still point out these ruined towns, whose walls lie underwater.

“There is a high hill near Trœzen of Pittheus, without any trees, once a very level surface of a plain, but now a hill; for (frightful to tell) the raging power¹²¹¹ of the winds, pent up in dark caverns, desiring to find some vent and having long struggled in vain to enjoy a freer air, as there was no opening in all their prison and it was not pervious to their blasts, swelled out the extended earth, just as the breath of the mouth is wont to inflate a bladder, or the hide¹²¹² stripped from the two-horned goat. That swelling remained on the spot, and still preserves the appearance of a high hill, and has grown hard in length of time. Though many other instances may occur, either heard of by, or known to, yourselves, yet I will mention a few more. And besides, does not water, as well, both produce and receive new forms? In the middle of the day, thy waters, horned Ammon,¹²¹³ are frozen, at the rising and at the setting of the sun they are warm. On applying its waters, Athamanis¹²¹⁴ is said to kindle wood when the waning moon has shrunk into her smallest orb. The Ciconians have a river,¹²¹⁵ which when drunk of, turns the entrails into stone, and lays a covering of marble on things that are touched by it. The Crathis¹²¹⁶ and the Sybaris adjacent to it, in our own country, make the hair similar in hue to amber and gold.

“There is a high hill near Trœzen of Pittheus. It has no trees, and it was once a flat plain, but now it is a hill. For, frightful to tell, the raging power¹²¹¹ of the winds was trapped in dark caverns. The winds longed for a way out and struggled in vain to reach freer air. There was no opening anywhere in their prison, and their blasts could not pass through it. So they made the earth swell outward, just as a person’s breath inflates a bladder or the hide¹²¹² stripped from a two-horned goat. The swelling remained there and still looks like a high hill. Over time, it has hardened. Though many other instances may come to mind that you have heard of or know yourselves, yet I will mention a few more. And does not water, too, both create and take on new forms? At midday, your waters, horned Ammon,¹²¹³ are frozen. At sunrise and sunset, the waters are warm. Athamanis¹²¹⁴ is said to kindle wood when its waters are applied to it, as the waning moon shrinks to its smallest orb. The Ciconians have a river¹²¹⁵ whose water turns the entrails to stone when drunk. It also lays a covering of marble on things it touches. The Crathis¹²¹⁶ and the nearby Sybaris, in our own country, make hair the color of amber and gold.

“And, what is still more wonderful, there are some streams which are able to change, not only bodies, but even the mind. By whom has not Salmacis,¹²¹⁷ with its obscene waters, been heard of? Who has not heard, too, of that lake of Æthiopia,¹²¹⁸ of which, if any body drinks with his mouth, he either becomes mad, or falls into a sleep wondrous for its heaviness? Whoever quenches his thirst from the Clitorian spring¹²¹⁹ hates wine, and in his sobriety takes pleasure in pure water. Whether it is that there is a virtue in the water, the opposite of heating wine, or whether, as the natives tell us, after the son of Amithaon,¹²²⁰ by his charms and his herbs, had delivered the raving daughters of Prœtus from the Furies, he threw the medicines for the mind in that stream; and a hatred of wine remained in those waters.

“And, even more wonderfully, some streams can change not only the body but also the mind. Who has not heard of Salmacis,¹²¹⁷ with its obscene waters? Who has not heard of that lake in Æthiopia,¹²¹⁸ too? Anyone who drinks from it either goes mad or falls into a remarkably deep sleep. Whoever drinks from the Clitorian spring¹²¹⁹ hates wine and, staying sober, takes pleasure in pure water. Perhaps the water has a power opposite to that of warming wine. Or perhaps the story the locals tell is true. After the son of Amithaon,¹²²⁰ freed the raving daughters of Prœtus from the Furies with his spells and herbs, he threw the medicines that cured their minds into the stream. A hatred of wine remained in its waters.

“The river Lyncestis¹²²¹ flows unlike that stream in its effect; for as soon as any one has drunk of it with immoderate throat, he reels, just as if he had been drinking unmixed wine. There is a place in Arcadia, (the ancients called it Pheneos,)¹²²² suspicious for the twofold nature of its water. Stand in dread of it at night; if drunk of in the night time, it is injurious; in the daytime, it is drunk of without any ill effects. So lakes and rivers have, some, one property, and some another. There was a time when Ortygia¹²²³ was floating on the waves, now it is fixed. The Argo dreaded the Symplegades tossed by the assaults of the waves dashing against them; they now stand immoveable, and resist the attacks of the winds.

“The river Lyncestis¹²²¹ has a different effect from that stream. Anyone who drinks too much of it reels as if they had been drinking undiluted wine. There is a place in Arcadia (the ancients called it Pheneos)¹²²² whose water has two troubling properties. Beware of it at night. It is harmful if drunk at night, but it can be drunk safely during the day. So lakes and rivers have different properties. Ortygia¹²²³ once floated on the waves, but now it is fixed in place. The Argo feared the Symplegades, which were tossed about by the waves crashing against them. Now they stand motionless and resist the attacks of the winds.”

“Nor will Ætna, which burns with its sulphureous furnaces, always be a fiery mountain; nor yet was it always fiery. For, if the earth is an animal, and is alive, and has lungs that breathe forth flames in many a place, it may change the passages for its breathing, and oft as it is moved, may close these caverns and open others; or if the light winds are shut up in its lowermost caverns, and strike rocks against rocks, and matter that contains the elements of flame, and it takes fire at the concussion, the winds once calmed, the caverns will become cool; or, if the bituminous qualities take fire, or yellow sulphur is being dried up with a smouldering smoke, still, when the earth shall no longer give food and unctuous fuel to the flame, its energies being exhausted in length of time, and when nutriment shall be wanting to its devouring nature, it will not be able to endure hunger, and left destitute, it will desert its flames.

“Ætna, which burns with its sulphurous furnaces, will not always be a fiery mountain. Nor was it always fiery. Suppose the earth is a living animal, with lungs that breathe flames in many places. It may change its breathing passages. Whenever it moves, it may close these caverns and open others. Or perhaps light winds are trapped in its deepest caverns. They may strike rocks against rocks and against material containing the elements of fire. And the impact may set this material alight. If so, the caverns will cool once the winds calm. Or perhaps bituminous substances catch fire, or yellow sulphur dries up with smouldering smoke. In time, however, the earth’s resources will be exhausted, and it will no longer feed the flames with oily fuel. When the fire’s devouring nature has nothing to feed on, it will not be able to bear hunger. Left with nothing, it will abandon its flames.

“The story is, that in the far Northern Pallene¹²²⁴ there are persons, who are wont to have their bodies covered with light feathers, when they have nine times entered the Tritonian lake. For my part I do not believe it; but the Scythian women, as well, having their limbs sprinkled with poison, are said to employ the same arts. But if we are to give any credit¹²²⁵ to things proved by experience, do you not see that whatever bodies are consumed by length of time, or by dissolving heat, are changed into small animals? Come too, bury some choice bullocks just slain, it is a thing well ascertained by experience, that flower-gathering bees are produced promiscuously from the putrefying entrails. These, after the manner of their producers, inhabit the fields, delight in toil, and labour in hope. The warlike steed,¹²²⁶ buried in the ground, is the source of the hornet. If you take off the bending claws from the crab of the sea-shore, and bury the rest in the earth, a scorpion will come forth from the part so buried, and will threaten with its crooked tail.

“The story goes that in far northern Pallene¹²²⁴ some people grow a covering of light feathers after entering Lake Tritonian nine times. For my part, I do not believe it. But Scythian women, too, are said to use the same arts after sprinkling their limbs with poison. But if we are to trust¹²²⁵ what experience has proved, consider this. Do you not see that all bodies consumed by time or by dissolving heat turn into small animals? Now bury some choice bullocks just killed. Experience has clearly established that flower-gathering bees emerge throughout their rotting entrails. Like the creatures that produced them, these bees live in the fields, delight in work, and labor in hope. A warlike steed¹²²⁶ buried in the ground gives rise to the hornet. If you remove the curved claws from a seashore crab and bury the rest, a scorpion will emerge from the buried part. It will threaten with its curved tail.

“The silkworms, too, that are wont to cover the leaves with their white threads, a thing observable by husbandmen, change their forms into that of the deadly moth.¹²²⁷ Mud contains seed that generate green frogs; and it produces them deprived of feet;¹²²⁸ soon it gives them legs adapted for swimming; and that the same may be fitted for long leaps, the length of the hinder ones exceeds that of the fore legs. And it is not a cub¹²²⁹ which the bear produces at the moment of birth, but a mass of flesh hardly alive. By licking, the mother forms it into limbs, and brings it into a shape, such as she herself has. Do you not see, that the offspring of the honey bees, which the hexagonal cell conceals, are produced without limbs, and that they assume both feet and wings only after a time. Unless he knew it was the case, could any one suppose it possible that the bird of Juno, which carries stars on its tail, and the eagle, the armour-bearer of Jove, and the doves of Cytherea, and all the race of birds, are produced from the middle portion of an egg? There are some who believe that human marrow changes into a serpent,¹²³⁰ when the spine has putrefied in the enclosed sepulchre.

“Silkworms, too, change into deadly moths.¹²²⁷ Farmers can see them covering leaves with their white threads. Mud contains seeds that produce green frogs, and at first the frogs have no feet.¹²²⁸ Soon they grow legs suited for swimming. Their hind legs are longer than their front legs, so they can also make long leaps. What a bear gives birth to is not a cub,¹²²⁹ but a mass of flesh that is hardly alive. By licking it, the mother forms its limbs and gives it a shape like her own. Do you not see that young honeybees develop without limbs inside their six-sided cells? They grow feet and wings only later. If someone did not already know it, could they believe that birds come from the middle of an egg? That includes Juno’s bird, which carries stars on its tail, Jove’s eagle, which carries his armor, Cytherea’s doves, and every kind of bird. Some believe that human marrow turns into a serpent,¹²³⁰ when the spine decays in an enclosed tomb.

“But these which I have named derive their origin from other particulars; there is one bird which renews and reproduces itself. The Assyrians call it the Phœnix. It lives not on corn or grass, but on drops of frankincense, and the juices of the amomum. This bird, when it has completed the five ages of its life, with its talons and its crooked beak constructs for itself a nest in the branches of a holm-oak, or on the top of a quivering palm. As soon as it has strewed in this cassia and ears of sweet spikenard and bruised cinnamon with yellow myrrh, it lays itself down on it, and finishes its life in the midst of odours. They say that thence, from the body of its parent, is reproduced a little Phœnix, which is destined to live as many years. When time has given it strength, and it is able to bear the weight, it lightens the branches of the lofty tree of the burden of the nest, and dutifully carries both its own cradle and the sepulchre of its parent; and, having reached the city of Hyperion through the yielding air, it lays it down before the sacred doors in the temple of Hyperion.

“But these which I have named come from other living things. There is one bird that renews and reproduces itself. The Assyrians call it the Phœnix. It lives not on grain or grass, but on drops of frankincense and the juices of amomum. When this bird has completed the five ages of its life, it builds itself a nest. Using its talons and curved beak, it builds among the branches of a holm-oak or atop a swaying palm. It fills the nest with cassia, sprays of sweet spikenard, crushed cinnamon, and yellow myrrh. Then it lies down and ends its life among the fragrant spices. They say that a little Phœnix is born from its parent’s body, destined to live just as many years. In time, the young bird grows strong enough to carry the weight. It lifts the nest from the branches of the tall tree. Then it dutifully carries away both its own cradle and its parent’s tomb. It flies through the yielding air to the city of Hyperion. There it lays the nest before the sacred doors of the temple of Hyperion.

“And if there is any wondrous novelty in these things, still more may we be surprised that the hyæna changes its sex,¹²³¹ and that the one which has just now, as a female, submitted to the embrace of the male, is now become a male itself. That animal, too, which feeds upon¹²³² the winds and the air, immediately assumes, from its contact, any colour whatever. Conquered India presented her lynxes to Bacchus crowned with clusters; and, as they tell, whatever the bladder of these discharges is changed into stone,¹²³³ and hardens by contact with the air. So coral, too, as soon as it has come up to the air becomes hard; beneath the waves it was a soft plant.¹²³⁴ “The day will fail me, and Phœbus will bathe his panting steeds in the deep sea, before I can embrace in my discourse all things that are changed into new forms. So in lapse of time, we see nations change, and these gaining strength, while those are falling. So Troy was great, both in her riches and her men, and for ten years could afford so much blood; whereas, now laid low, she only shows her ancient ruins, and, instead of her wealth, she points at the tombs of her ancestors. Sparta was famed;¹²³⁵ great Mycenæ flourished; so, too, the citadel of Cecrops, and that of Amphion. Now Sparta is a contemptible spot; lofty Mycenæ is laid low. What now is Thebes, the city of Œdipus, but a mere story? What remains of Athens, the city of Pandion, but its name?

“If these things are wonderfully strange, we may be still more surprised that the hyæna changes its sex.¹²³¹ One that has just submitted to a male’s embrace as a female now becomes a male itself. The animal that feeds on¹²³² the winds and the air also takes on any colour it touches. Conquered India gave her lynxes to Bacchus, who was crowned with clusters of grapes. And, as they say, whatever the lynxes discharge from their bladders turns to stone¹²³³ and hardens on contact with the air. Coral, too, hardens as soon as it reaches the air. Beneath the waves, it was a soft plant.¹²³⁴ “The day will end and Phœbus will bathe his panting horses in the deep sea before I can speak of all things that change into new forms. So, over time, we see nations change. Some grow stronger, while others decline. Troy was once great in wealth and men. For ten years, she could afford to spill so much blood. But now she lies low and shows only her ancient ruins. Instead of her wealth, she points to the tombs of her ancestors. Sparta was famous.¹²³⁵ Great Mycenæ flourished, as did the citadels of Cecrops and Amphion. Now Sparta is a contemptible place, and lofty Mycenæ lies in ruins. What is Thebes, the city of Œdipus, now but a mere story? What remains of Athens, the city of Pandion, but its name?

“Now, too, there is a report that Dardanian Rome is rising; which, close to the waters of Tiber that rises in the Apennines, is laying the foundations of her greatness beneath a vast structure. She then, in her growth, is changing her form, and will one day be the mistress of the boundless earth. So they say that the soothsayers, and the oracles, revealers of destiny, declare; and, so far as I recollect, Helenus, the son of Priam, said to Æneas, as he was lamenting, and in doubt as to his safety, when now the Trojan state was sinking, ‘Son of a Goddess, if thou dost thyself well understand the presentiment of my mind, Troy shall not, thou being preserved, entirely fall. The flames and the sword shall afford thee a passage. Thou shalt go, and, together with thee, thou shalt bear ruined Pergamus; until a foreign soil, more friendly than thy native land, shall be the lot of Troy and thyself. Even now do I see that our Phrygian posterity are destined to build a city, so great as neither now exists, nor will exist, nor has been seen in former times. Through a long lapse of ages, other distinguished men shall make it powerful, but one born¹²³⁶ of the blood of Iülus shall make it the mistress of the world. After the earth shall have enjoyed his presence, the æthereal abodes shall gain him, and heaven shall be his destination.’ Remembering it, I call to mind that Helenus prophesied this to Æneas, who bore the Penates from Troy; and I rejoice that my kindred walls are rising apace, and that to such good purpose for the Phrygians the Pelasgians conquered.

“Now, too, there are reports that Dardanian Rome is rising. Near the waters of the Tiber, which rises in the Apennines, Rome is laying the foundations of her greatness beneath a vast structure. As she grows, she is changing her form, and one day she will rule the boundless earth. So the soothsayers and oracles, who reveal destiny, are said to declare. And, as far as I remember, Helenus, the son of Priam, said the same to Æneas. The Trojan state was now falling, and Æneas was grieving and uncertain of his safety. Helenus said, ‘Son of a Goddess, if you understand my foreboding rightly, Troy will not fall completely, as long as you survive. The flames and the sword will open a path for you. You will go and carry ruined Pergamus with you. At last, Troy and you will find a home on foreign soil, friendlier than your native land. Even now I see that our Phrygian descendants are destined to build a city greater than any that exists now, ever will exist, or has been seen before. Over many ages, other distinguished men will make it powerful. But one born¹²³⁶ of the blood of Iülus will make it the ruler of the world. After the earth has enjoyed his presence, the heavenly abodes will receive him, and heaven will be his destination.’ I remember that Helenus prophesied this to Æneas, who carried the Penates from Troy. And I rejoice that the walls of my kin are rising quickly, and that the Pelasgians’ conquest has brought such good to the Phrygians.

“But that we may not range afar with steeds that forget to hasten to the goal; the heavens, and whatever there is beneath them, and the earth, and whatever is upon it, change their form. We too, who are a portion of the universe, (since we are not only bodies, but are fleeting souls as well, and can enter into beasts as our abode, and be hidden within the breasts of the cattle), should allow those bodies which may contain the souls of our parents, or of our brothers, or of those allied with us by some tie, or of men at all events, to be safe and unmolested; and we ought not to fill¹²³⁷ our entrails with victuals fit for Thyestes. How greatly he disgraces himself, how in his impiety does he prepare himself for shedding human blood, who cuts the throat of the calf with the knife, and gives a deaf ear to its lowings! or who can kill the kid as it sends forth cries like those of a child; or who can feed upon the bird to which he himself has given food. How much is there wanting in these instances for downright criminality? A short step only is there thence to it!

“But let us not wander too far, like horses that forget to hurry toward the goal. The heavens and everything beneath them, the earth and everything on it, change their forms. We too are part of the universe. We are not only bodies, but also souls that pass from one body to another. We can make our homes in animals and be hidden within the bodies of cattle. So we should leave those bodies safe and unharmed. They may contain the souls of our parents, our brothers, those tied to us in some other way, or at least other people. We should not fill¹²³⁷ our stomachs with food fit for Thyestes. How deeply a man disgraces himself when he slits a calf’s throat and ignores its cries! How wickedly he prepares himself to shed human blood! The same is true of someone who kills a young goat as it cries like a child, or eats a bird he has fed himself. How far short of outright crime do these acts fall? Only a short step separates them from it!

“Let the bull plough, or let it owe its death to aged years; let the sheep furnish us a defence against the shivering Boreas; let the well-fed she-goats afford their udders to be pressed by the hand. Away with your nets, and your springes and snares and treacherous contrivances; deceive not the bird with the bird-limed twig; deceive not the deer with the dreaded feather foils;¹²³⁸ and do not conceal the barbed hooks in the deceitful bait. If¹²³⁹ any thing is noxious, destroy it, but even then only destroy it. Let your appetites abstain from it for food, and let them consume a more befitting sustenance.”

“Let the bull plough, or let it die of old age. Let sheep provide wool to protect us from the chilling Boreas. Let well-fed she-goats give us milk from their udders. Away with your nets, traps, snares, and deceitful devices. Do not trick birds with twigs coated in birdlime. Do not trick deer with frightening feathered barriers.¹²³⁸ Do not hide barbed hooks in deceptive bait. If¹²³⁹ anything is harmful, destroy it, but only destroy it. Do not eat it. Instead, eat more suitable food.”

Egeria, the wife of Numa, is inconsolable after his death, and is changed into a fountain. The horses of Hippolytus being frightened by a sea-monster, he is killed by being thrown from his chariot, and becomes a God, under the name of Virbius. Tages, the Diviner, arises out of a clod of earth. The lance of Romulus is changed into a cornel-tree. Cippus becomes horned, and goes into voluntary banishment, rather than his country should be deprived of its liberty by his means.

Egeria, Numa’s wife, is inconsolable after his death and is turned into a fountain. A sea monster frightens Hippolytus’s horses, and he is thrown from his chariot and killed. He becomes a god under the name Virbius. Tages, the diviner, rises from a clod of earth. Romulus’s lance is turned into a cornel tree. Cippus grows horns and chooses exile rather than cause his country to lose its freedom.

With his mind cultivated with precepts such as these and others, they say that Numa returned to his country, and, being voluntarily invited,¹²⁴⁰ received the sovereignty of the Roman people. Blest with a Nymph for his wife, and the Muses for his guides, he taught the rites of sacrifice, and brought over to the arts of peace a race inured to savage warfare. After, full of years, he had finished his reign and his life, the Latian matrons and the people and the Senators lamented Numa at his death. But his wife, leaving the city, lay hid, concealed in the thick groves of the valley of Aricia, and by her groans and lamentations disturbed the sacred rites of Diana, brought thither by Orestes. Ah! how oft did the Nymphs of the grove and of the lake entreat her not to do so, and utter soothing words. Ah! how often did the hero, the son of Theseus, say to her as she wept, “Put an end to it; for thy lot is not the only one to be lamented. Consider the like calamities of others, thou wilt then bear thine own better. And would that an example, not my own, could lighten thy grief! yet even my own can do so.”

They say that Numa returned to his country with his mind shaped by these and other teachings. The Roman people willingly invited him¹²⁴⁰ to become their king, and he accepted. Blessed with a Nymph as his wife and the Muses as his guides, he taught the rites of sacrifice. He also led a people hardened by savage warfare toward the arts of peace. After a long life, Numa’s reign and life came to an end. The Latian matrons, the people, and the Senators mourned his death. But his wife left the city and hid in the thick groves of the valley of Aricia. Her groans and cries disturbed the sacred rites of Diana, which Orestes had brought there. Ah, how often the Nymphs of the grove and lake begged her to stop and spoke soothing words! Ah, how often the hero, the son of Theseus, said to her as she wept, “Stop grieving. Yours is not the only fate worth mourning. Think of the similar misfortunes of others, and you will then bear your own better. I wish an example other than mine could ease your grief! Yet even mine can do so.”

“I suppose, in discourse it has reached thy ears that a certain Hippolytus met with his death through the credulity of his father, by the deceit of his wicked step-mother. Thou wilt wonder, and I shall hardly be able to prove it; but yet I am he. In former times, the daughter of Pasiphaë, having tempted me in vain, pretended that I wished to defile the couch of my father, a thing that she herself wished to do; and having turned the accusation against me, (whether it was more through dread of discovery, or through mortification at her repulse) she charged me. And my father expelled me, thus innocent, from the city, and as I went he uttered imprecations against my head, with ruthless prayers. I was going to Trœzen, the city of Pittheus,¹²⁴¹ in my flying chariot, and I was now proceeding along the shores of the Corinthian gulf, when the sea was aroused, and an enormous mass of waters seemed to bend and to grow in the form of a mountain, and to send forth a roaring noise, and to burst asunder at its very summit. Thence, the waves being divided, a horned bull was sent forth, and erect in the light air as far as his breast, he vomited forth a quantity of sea-water from his nostrils and his open mouth. The hearts of my attendants quailed; my mind remained without fear, intent only on my exile, when the fierce horses turned their necks towards the sea, and were terrified, with ears erect; and they were alarmed with dread of the monster, and precipitated the chariot over the lofty rocks. I struggled, with unavailing hand, to guide the bridle covered with white foam, and, throwing myself backwards, I pulled back the loosened reins. And, indeed, the madness of my steeds would not have exceeded that strength of mine, had not the wheel, by running against a stump, been broken and disjoined just where it turns round on the long axle-tree.

“I suppose you have heard how a man named Hippolytus died because his father believed his wicked stepmother’s lies. You will be astonished, and I can hardly prove it, but I am Hippolytus. “Long ago, the daughter of Pasiphaë tried in vain to seduce me. Then she claimed that I wanted to defile my father’s marriage bed, though she herself had wanted to do so. She turned the accusation against me, whether from fear of being exposed or shame at being rejected. Though I was thus innocent, my father drove me from the city. As I left, he called down curses on me in his merciless prayers. “I was speeding in my chariot toward Trœzen, the city of Pittheus.¹²⁴¹ I was traveling along the shores of the Corinthian gulf when the sea rose up. A huge mass of water seemed to swell and bend into the shape of a mountain. It roared and burst apart at its very peak. “Then the waves parted, and a horned bull came out. He rose into the open air as far as his chest. Sea water poured from his nostrils and open mouth. My attendants’ hearts failed them, but I felt no fear. I was thinking only of my exile. “Then the fierce horses turned their heads toward the sea. They stood with ears raised, terrified by the monster. In their fear, they sent the chariot hurtling over the high rocks. I struggled in vain to control the foam-covered bridle. Leaning back, I pulled on the slack reins. Even so, my strength would have been enough to master the maddened horses. But a wheel struck a stump and broke apart where it turned on the long axle.

“I was hurled from my chariot; and, the reins entwined around my limbs, you might have seen my palpitating entrails dragged, my sinews fasten upon the stump, my limbs partly torn to pieces and partly left behind, being caught by various obstacles, my bones in their breaking emit a loud noise, and my exhausted breath become exhaled, and not a part in my body which you could recognize; and the whole of me formed but one continued wound. And canst thou, Nymph, or dost thou venture to compare thy misfortune to mine? I have visited, too, the realms deprived of light, and I have bathed my lacerated body in the waves of Phlegethon.¹²⁴² Nor could life have been restored me, but through the powerful remedies of the son of Apollo. After I had received it, through potent herbs and the Pæonian aid,¹²⁴³ much against the will of Pluto, then Cynthia threw around me thick clouds, that I might not, by my presence, increase his anger at this favour; and that I might be safe, and be seen in security, she gave me a more aged appearance, and left me no features that could be recognized. For a long time she was doubtful whether she should give me Crete or Delos for me to possess. Delos and Crete being abandoned, she placed me here, and, at the same time, she ordered me to lay aside my name, which might have reminded me of my steeds, and she said, ‘Thou, the same who wast Hippolytus, be thou now Virbius.’¹²⁴⁴ From that time I have inhabited this grove; and, as one of the lower Gods, I lie concealed under the protection of my mistress, and to her am I devoted.”¹²⁴⁵

“I was thrown from my chariot, with the reins tangled around my limbs. You could have seen my throbbing entrails dragged along and my sinews caught on a stump. My limbs were partly torn to pieces and partly left behind, caught on various obstacles. My bones broke with a loud noise, and my last breath left me. Not one part of my body was recognizable. All of me was but one continuous wound. And can you, Nymph, or do you dare, compare your misfortune to mine? I, too, have visited the realms without light and bathed my torn body in the waters of Phlegethon.¹²⁴² Nor could I have been restored to life without the powerful remedies of Apollo’s son. Through potent herbs and Pæonian aid,¹²⁴³ I regained my life, much against Pluto’s will. Then Cynthia wrapped me in thick clouds, so my presence would not increase his anger at this favor. So that I could be safe and seen without danger, she made me look more aged. She left me without any recognizable features. For a long time, she could not decide whether to give me Crete or Delos to possess. She rejected both Delos and Crete and placed me here instead. At the same time, she ordered me to give up my name, which might have reminded me of my steeds. She said, ‘You, who were Hippolytus, shall now be Virbius.’¹²⁴⁴ Since then, I have lived in this grove. As one of the lesser Gods, I remain hidden under my mistress’s protection and devoted to her.”¹²⁴⁵

But yet the misfortunes of others were not able to alleviate the grief of Egeria; and, throwing herself down at the base of the hill, she dissolved into tears; until, moved by her affection as she grieved, the sister of Phœbus formed a cool fountain from her body, and dissolved her limbs in ever-flowing waters.

But the misfortunes of others could not ease Egeria’s grief. She threw herself down at the foot of the hill and wept. Moved by her love as she grieved, the sister of Phœbus turned her body into a cool fountain. She dissolved Egeria’s limbs into ever-flowing water.

But this new circumstance surprised the Nymphs; and the son of the Amazon¹²⁴⁶ was astonished, in no other manner than as when the Etrurian ploughman beheld the fate-revealing clod in the midst of the fields move at first of its own accord and no one touching it, and afterwards assume a human form, and lose that of earth, and open its new-made mouth with the decrees of future destiny. The natives called him Tages. He was the first to teach the Etrurian nation to foretell future events.

But this new event surprised the Nymphs and astonished the son of the Amazon¹²⁴⁶. He was just as astonished as the Etrurian ploughman who saw a clod of earth reveal the future. In the middle of a field, the clod began to move on its own, without anyone touching it. Then it took on a human form and lost that of earth. It opened its newly formed mouth and spoke the decrees of future destiny. The natives called him Tages. He was the first to teach the Etrurian nation to predict future events.

Or, as when Romulus once saw his lance, fixed in the Palatine hill, suddenly shoot forth; which now stood there with a root newly-formed, and not with the iron point driven in; and, now no longer as a dart, but as a tree with limber twigs, it sent forth, for the admiring spectators, a shade that was not looked for.

Or, as when Romulus once saw his lance suddenly sprout where it was planted in the Palatine hill. It now stood there with a newly formed root, and not with its iron point driven into the ground. No longer a lance, but a tree with flexible twigs, it cast an unexpected shade for the admiring spectators.

Or, as when Cippus beheld his horns in the water of the stream, (for he did see them) and, believing that there was a false representation in the reflection, often returning his fingers to his forehead, he touched what he saw. And now, no longer condemning his own eyesight, he stood still, as he was returning victorious from the conquest of the enemy; and raising his eyes towards heaven, and his hands in the same direction, he exclaimed, “Ye Gods above! whatever is portended by this prodigy, if it is auspicious, then be it auspicious to my country and to the people of Quirinus; but if unfortunate, be it so for myself.” And then he made atonement at the grassy altars built of green turf, with odoriferous fires, and presented wine in bowls, and consulted the panting entrails of slaughtered sheep what the meaning of it was. Soon as the soothsayer of the Etrurian nation had inspected them, he beheld in them the great beginnings of future events, but still not clearly. But when he raised his searching eyes from the entrails of the sheep, to the horns of Cippus, he said, “Hail, O king! for thee, Cippus, thee and thy horns shall this place and the Latian towers obey. Only do thou lay aside all delay; hasten to enter the gates wide open; thus the fates command thee. For, once received within the City, thou shalt be king, and thou shalt safely enjoy a lasting sceptre.” He retreated backwards, and turning his stern visage away from the walls of the City, he exclaimed, “Far, O far away may the Gods drive such omens! Much more righteously shall I pass my life in exile, than if the Capitol were to see me a king.”

Or, as when Cippus saw his horns in the stream’s reflection, for he did see them. He thought the reflection was false, so he repeatedly felt his forehead and touched what he saw. He no longer doubted his eyesight. He stood still as he returned victorious from conquering the enemy. Raising his eyes and hands toward heaven, he cried, “Gods above! Whatever this wonder foretells, if it is favorable, let it be favorable to my country and the people of Quirinus. But if it is unfavorable, let it fall on me.” Then he made atonement at grassy altars built of green turf, with fragrant fires. He offered wine in bowls and examined the still pulsing entrails of slaughtered sheep to learn what the wonder meant. When the soothsayer of the Etrurian nation inspected the entrails, he saw signs of great future events beginning, though not clearly. But then he raised his searching eyes from the sheep’s entrails to Cippus’s horns. “Hail, king!” he said. “Cippus, this place and the Latian towers will obey you and your horns. Do not delay. Hurry through the open gates. The fates command it. For, once you enter the City, you will be king and will safely enjoy a lasting rule.” Cippus stepped back and turned his stern face away from the City walls. “May the gods drive such omens far, far away!” he cried. “I would live a far more righteous life in exile than as a king in the Capitol’s sight.”

Thus he says; and forthwith he convokes the people and the dignified Senate; but first, he veils his horns with laurel that betokens peace, and he stands upon a mound raised by his brave soldiers; and praying to the Gods after the ancient manner, “Behold!” says he, “one is here who will be king, if you do not expel him from the City. I will tell you who he is by a sign, and not by name. He wears horns on his forehead; the augur predicts to you, that if he enters the City, he shall give you laws as his slaves. He, indeed, was able to enter the open gates, but I have opposed him; although no one is more nearly allied with him than myself. Forbid your City to this man, ye Romans, or, if he shall deserve it, bind him with heavy fetters; or else end your fears by the death of the destined tyrant.”

Thus he speaks and immediately calls together the people and the honored Senate. But first, he covers his horns with laurel, a sign of peace. He stands on a mound raised by his brave soldiers and prays to the Gods in the ancient manner. “Look!” he says. “A man is here who will be king if you do not drive him from the City. I will tell you who he is by a sign, and not by name. He has horns on his forehead. The augur predicts that if he enters the City, he will rule you as his slaves. He could have entered through the open gates, but I stopped him. Yet no one is more closely related to him than I am. Romans, keep this man out of your City. Or, if he deserves it, bind him with heavy chains. Or end your fears by putting the destined tyrant to death.”

As the murmur which arises among the groves of the slender pine,¹²⁴⁷ when the furious East wind whistles among them, or as that which the waves of the ocean produce, if any one hears them from afar, such is the noise of the crowd. But yet amid the confused words of the shouting multitude, one cry is distinguished, “Which is he?” And then they examine the foreheads, and seek the predicted horns. Cippus again addresses them: “Him whom you require, ye now have;” and, despite of the people, throwing the chaplet from his head, he exhibits his temples, remarkable for two horns. All cast down their eyes, and utter groans, and (who would have supposed it?) they unwillingly look upon that head famed for its merits. And no longer suffering it to be deprived of its honours, they place upon it the festive chaplet. But the nobles, Cippus, since thou art forbidden to enter the city, give thee as much land, as a mark of honour, as thou canst, with the oxen yoked to the pressed plough, make the circuit of from the rising of the sun to its setting. They carve, too, the horns, imitating their wondrous form, on the door-posts adorned with brass, there to remain for long ages.

The crowd sounds like the murmur among slender pines,¹²⁴⁷ when the fierce East wind whistles through them. It sounds like ocean waves heard from far away. But amid the confused shouting, one cry stands out: “Which is he?” Then they examine each other’s foreheads, looking for the predicted horns. Cippus speaks to them again: “You have the man you seek now;” Then, against the people’s wishes, he throws the wreath from his head and reveals the two horns on his temples. Everyone lowers their eyes and groans. Who would have believed it? They are unwilling to look at that head, so famous for its merits. But they will not let it remain without its honors, and they place the festive wreath on it. Cippus, since you are forbidden to enter the city, the nobles give you land as a mark of honor. They give you as much as you can plow around, with oxen yoked to the plow, from sunrise to sunset. They also carve the horns on the brass-decorated doorposts, copying their wondrous shape, to remain there for many ages.

Rome being wasted by a pestilence, the Delphian oracle is consulted; and the answer is given, that to cause it to cease Æsculapius must be brought to Rome. On this, ambassadors are sent to Epidaurus to demand the God. The people refuse to part with him; but he appears to one of the Romans in a dream, and consents to go. On his arrival at Rome the contagion ceases, and a Temple is built in his honour.

A plague was devastating Rome, so the Romans consulted the Delphian oracle. The oracle said that Æsculapius had to be brought to Rome to stop the plague. The Romans then sent ambassadors to Epidaurus to ask for the god. The people refused to let him go, but he appeared to one of the Romans in a dream and agreed to go. When he arrived in Rome, the plague stopped, and a temple was built in his honor.

Relate, now, ye Muses, the guardian Deities of poets (for you know, and remote antiquity conceals it not from you), whence it is that the Island surrounded by the channel of the Tiber introduced the son of Coronis into the sacred rites of the City of Romulus. A dire contagion had once infected the Latian air, and the pale bodies were deformed by a consumption that dried up the blood. When, wearied with so many deaths, they found that mortal endeavours availed nothing, and that the skill of physicians had no effect, they sought the aid of heaven, and they repaired to Delphi which occupies the centre spot of the world, the oracle of Phœbus, and entreated that he would aid their distressed circumstances by a response productive of health, and put an end to the woes of a City so great. Both the spot, and the laurels, and the quivers which it has, shook at the same moment, and the tripod¹²⁴⁸ gave this answer from the recesses of the shrine, and struck with awe their astonished breasts:— “What here thou dost seek, O Roman, thou mightst have sought in a nearer spot: and now seek it in a nearer spot; thou hast no need of Apollo to diminish thy grief, but of the son of Apollo. Go with a good omen, and invite my son.”

Tell us now, Muses, guardian Deities of poets, how it came about that the island surrounded by the waters of the Tiber brought the son of Coronis into the sacred rites of the City of Romulus. You know, for even the distant past is not hidden from you. A terrible plague had once infected the Latian air. It ravaged pale bodies, wasting them away and drying up their blood. Exhausted by so many deaths, the people found that human efforts and the skill of physicians were useless. So they sought help from heaven. They went to Delphi, which stands at the center of the world, and consulted the oracle of Phœbus. They begged him for an answer that would bring health, relieve their distress, and end the suffering of so great a City. The place, its laurels, and its quivers all shook at once. From deep within the shrine, the tripod¹²⁴⁸ gave this answer, filling their astonished hearts with awe: “Roman, what you seek here, you could have sought nearer to home. Seek it there now. You do not need Apollo to ease your suffering, but Apollo’s son. Go with a good omen, and invite my son.”

After the prudent Senate had received the commands of the Deity, they enquired what city the youthful son of Phœbus inhabited; and they sent some to reach the coasts of Epidaurus¹²⁴⁹ with the winds. Soon as those sent had reached them in the curving ship, they repaired to the council and the Grecian elders, and besought them to grant them the Divinity, who by his presence could put an end to the mortality of the Ausonian nation; for that so the unerring response had directed. Their opinions were divided, and differed; and some thought that aid ought not to be refused. Many refused it, and advised them not to part with their own protector, and to give up their own guardian Deity. While they were deliberating, twilight had now expelled the waning day, and the shadow of the earth had brought darkness over the world; when, in thy sleep, the saving God seemed, O Roman, to be standing before thy couch; but just as he is wont to be in his temple; and, holding a rustic staff in his left hand, he seemed to be stroking the long hair of his beard with his right, and to utter such words as these from his kindly breast— “Lay aside thy fears; I will come, and I will leave these my statues. Only observe now this serpent, which with its folds entwines around this staff, and accurately mark it with thine eyes, that thou mayst be able to know it again. Into this shall I be changed; but I shall be greater, and I shall appear to be of a size as great as that into which heavenly bodies ought to be transformed.”

After the wise Senate received the Deity’s commands, they asked which city the young son of Phœbus lived in. Then they sent envoys by sea to the shores of Epidaurus¹²⁴⁹. As soon as the envoys reached the shores in their curved ship, they went to the council of Grecian elders. They begged the elders to grant them the Divinity, whose presence could end the deaths among the Ausonian nation. For the unerring oracle had directed them to seek him. The elders were divided. Some thought they should not refuse to help. Many refused and advised against parting with their own protector and giving up their guardian Deity. While they deliberated, twilight had already driven away the fading day. The earth’s shadow had brought darkness over the world. Then, O Roman, as you slept, the healing God seemed to stand before your bed. He appeared just as he usually did in his temple. He held a rustic staff in his left hand. With his right, he seemed to stroke his long beard and speak these words from his kindly heart: “Set aside your fears. I will come, and I will leave these my statues. Just look now at this serpent coiled around the staff. Study it closely so that you can recognize it again. I will take its form, but I will be larger. I will appear as large as a heavenly being should when transformed.”

Forthwith, with these words, the God departs; and with his words and the God sleep departs, and genial light follows upon the departure of sleep. The following morn has now dispersed the starry fires; uncertain what to do, the nobles meet together in the sumptuous temple of the God then sought, and beseech him to indicate, by celestial tokens, in what spot he would wish to abide. Hardly have they well ceased, when the God, all glittering with gold, in the form of a serpent, with crest erect, sends forth a hissing, as a notice of his approach; and in his coming, he shakes both his statue, the altars, the doors, the marble pavement, and the gilded roof, and as far as the breast he stands erect in the midst of the temple, and rolls around his eyes that sparkle with fire. The frightened multitude is alarmed; the priest, having his chaste hair bound with a white fillet, recognizes the Deity and exclaims, “The God! Behold the God! Whoever you are that are present, be of good omen, both with your words and your feelings. Mayst thou, most beauteous one, be beheld to our advantage; and mayst thou aid the nations that perform thy sacred rites.” Whoever are present, adore the Deity as bidden; and all repeat the words of the priest over again; and the descendants of Æneas give a pious omen, both with their feelings, and in their words. To these the God shows favour; and with crest erected, he gives a hiss, a sure token, repeated thrice with his vibrating tongue. Then he glides down the polished steps,¹²⁵⁰ and turns back his head, and, about to depart, he looks back upon his ancient altars, and salutes his wonted abode and the temple that so long he has inhabited. Then, with his vast bulk, he glides along the ground covered with the strewn flowers, and coils his folds, and through the midst of the city repairs to the harbour protected by its winding quay.

At once, the God departs with these words. With his words and his departure, sleep leaves, and welcoming light follows. The next morning has now scattered the stars. Unsure what to do, the nobles gather in the magnificent temple of the God they now seek. They beg him to show them, by signs from heaven, where he wishes to live. They have hardly finished when the God appears as a serpent, glittering with gold and holding his crest high. He hisses to announce his approach. As he comes, he shakes his statue, the altars, the doors, the marble floor, and the gilded roof. He raises himself to his breast in the middle of the temple and looks around with eyes that sparkle with fire. The crowd is terrified. The priest, whose sacred hair is bound with a white band, recognizes the Deity and cries, “The God! Behold the God! Whoever you are, all who are present, let your words and thoughts be a good omen. May we behold you to our benefit, most beautiful one. May you help the nations that perform your sacred rites.” Everyone present worships the Deity as instructed and repeats the priest’s words. The descendants of Æneas, too, offer a devout omen in their thoughts and words. The God shows them favor. With his crest raised, he hisses three times, his tongue flickering, giving them a sure sign. Then he glides down the polished steps.¹²⁵⁰ As he prepares to leave, he turns his head and looks back at his ancient altars. He salutes his familiar home and the temple where he has lived for so long. Then his huge body glides over the ground strewn with flowers. He coils his body and makes his way through the city to the harbor, sheltered by its curving quay.

Here he stops; and seeming to dismiss his train, and the dutiful attendance of the accompanying crowd, with a placid countenance, he places his body in the Ausonian ship. It is sensible of the weight of the God; and the ship now laden with the Divinity for its freight, the descendants of Æneas rejoice; and a bull having first been slain on the sea-shore, they loosen the twisted cables of the bark bedecked with garlands. A gentle breeze has now impelled the ship. The God is conspicuous aloft,¹²⁵¹ and pressing upon the crooked stern with his neck laid upon it, he looks down upon the azure waters; and with the gentle Zephyrs along the Ionian sea, on the sixth rising of the daughter of Pallas, he makes Italy, and is borne along the Lacinian shores, ennobled by the temple of the Goddess Juno, and the Scylacean¹²⁵² coasts. He leaves Iapygia behind, and flies from the Amphissian¹²⁵³ rocks with the oars on the left side; on the right side he passes by the steep Ceraunia, and Romechium, and Caulon,¹²⁵⁴ and Narycia, and he crosses the sea and the straits of the Sicilian Pelorus, and the abodes of the king the grandson of Hippotas, and the mines of Temesa; and then he makes for Leucosia,¹²⁵⁵ and the rose-beds of the warm Pæstum. Then he coasts by Capreæ,¹²⁵⁶ and the promontory of Minerva, and the hills ennobled with the Surrentine¹²⁵⁷ vines, and the city of Hercules,¹²⁵⁸ and Stabiæ,¹²⁵⁹ and Parthenope made for retirement, and after it the temple of the Cumæan Sibyl. Next, the warm springs¹²⁶⁰ are passed by, and Linternum,¹²⁶¹ that bears mastick trees; and then Vulturnus,¹²⁶² that carries much sand along with its tide, and Sinuessa, that abounds with snow-white snakes,¹²⁶³ and the pestilential Minturnæ,¹²⁶⁴ and she for whom¹²⁶⁵ her foster-child erected the tomb, and the abode of Antiphates,¹²⁶⁶ and Trachas,¹²⁶⁷ surrounded by the marsh, and the land of Circe, and Antium,¹²⁶⁸ with its rocky coast.

Here he stops. With a calm expression, he seems to dismiss his followers and the crowd attending him dutifully. Then he places his body in the Ausonian ship. The ship feels the weight of the god. Now that the ship carries the divine being, the descendants of Æneas rejoice. They sacrifice a bull on the shore, then untie the twisted ropes of the ship, which is decorated with garlands. A gentle breeze has now driven the ship forward. The god can be seen high above,¹²⁵¹ resting his neck on the curved stern and pressing against it. He looks down on the blue waters. Gentle west winds carry him across the Ionian sea. On the sixth rising of the daughter of Pallas, he reaches Italy. He travels along the Lacinian shores, made famous by the temple of the Goddess Juno, and the Scylacean¹²⁵² coasts. He leaves Iapygia behind and rows swiftly past the Amphissian¹²⁵³ rocks on the left. On the right he passes the steep Ceraunia, Romechium, Caulon,¹²⁵⁴ and Narycia. He crosses the sea and the straits of the Sicilian Pelorus. He passes the home of the king, the grandson of Hippotas, and the mines of Temesa. Then he heads for Leucosia¹²⁵⁵ and the rose beds of warm Pæstum. Next he sails along the coasts of Capreæ,¹²⁵⁶ the promontory of Minerva, and the hills famed for their Surrentine¹²⁵⁷ vines. He passes the city of Hercules,¹²⁵⁸ Stabiæ,¹²⁵⁹ and Parthenope, a city made for peaceful retirement. After Parthenope he passes the temple of the Cumæan Sibyl. Next come the warm springs¹²⁶⁰ and Linternum,¹²⁶¹ where mastick trees grow. Then he passes Vulturnus,¹²⁶² whose tide carries much sand, and Sinuessa, which has many snow-white snakes.¹²⁶³ He passes pestilential Minturnæ,¹²⁶⁴ and the woman¹²⁶⁵ whose foster-child built her tomb. He passes the home of Antiphates,¹²⁶⁶ Trachas,¹²⁶⁷ surrounded by marshes, the land of Circe, and Antium,¹²⁶⁸ with its rocky coast.

After the sailors have steered the sail-bearing ship hither (for now the sea is aroused), the Deity unfolds his coils, and gliding with many a fold and in vast coils, he enters the temple of his parent, that skirts the yellow shore. The sea now becalmed, the God of Epidaurus leaves the altars of his sire; and having enjoyed the hospitality of the Deity, thus related to him, he furrows the sands of the sea-shore with the dragging of his rattling scales, and reclining against the helm of the ship, he places his head upon the lofty stern; until he comes to Castrum,¹²⁶⁹ and the sacred abodes of Lavinium, and the mouths of the Tiber. Hither, all the people indiscriminately, a crowd both of matrons and of men, rush to meet him; they, too, Vesta! who tend thy fires; and with joyous shouts they welcome the God. And where the swift ship is steered through the tide running out, altars being erected in a line, the frankincense crackles along the banks on either side, and perfumes the air with its smoke; the felled victim too, with its blood makes warm the knives thrust into it.

The sailors steer the sailing ship here, for the sea is now rough. The Deity uncoils and glides in great, winding loops into his parent's temple, which borders the yellow shore. The sea is now calm, and the God of Epidaurus leaves his father's altars. After enjoying the hospitality of the Deity, his relative, he drags his rattling scales across the shore, leaving furrows in the sand. He then rests against the ship's helm, his head on the high stern. He remains there until he reaches Castrum,¹²⁶⁹ the sacred dwellings of Lavinium, and the mouths of the Tiber. All the people rush to meet him, a crowd of women and men alike. Those who tend your fires, Vesta, come too. They welcome the God with joyful shouts. As the swift ship sails against the outgoing tide, altars stand in a line along both banks. Frankincense crackles on them, and its smoke perfumes the air. The sacrificed victim with its blood warms the knives thrust into it.

And now he has entered Rome, the sovereign of the world. The serpent rises erect, and lifts his neck that reclines against the top of the mast, and looks around for a habitation suited for himself. There is a spot, where the river flowing around, is divided into two parts; it is called “the Island.” The river in the direction of each side extends its arms of equal length, the dry land lying in the middle. Hither, the serpent, son of Phœbus, betakes himself from the Latian ship; and he puts an end to the mourning, having resumed his celestial form. And thus did he come, the restorer of health, to the City.

And now he has entered Rome, the ruler of the world. The serpent rises upright, lifting his neck from where it rests against the top of the mast. He looks around for a place to live. There is a place where the river divides and flows around a stretch of land. It is called “the Island.” The river extends arms of equal length along each side, with dry land lying between them. The serpent, son of Phœbus, leaves the Latian ship and goes there. He resumes his heavenly form and puts an end to the mourning. And thus he came to the City, bringing health once more.

Julius Cæsar is assassinated in the Senate-house, and by the intercession of Venus, his ancestor, he is changed into a star. The Poet concludes his work with a compliment to Augustus, and a promise of immortality to himself.

Julius Cæsar is assassinated in the Senate house. Venus, his ancestor, intervenes, and he is turned into a star. The poet ends his work with a compliment to Augustus and a promise of immortality for himself.

And still, he came a stranger to our temples; Cæsar is a Deity in his own city; whom, alike distinguished both in war and peace, wars ending with triumphs, his government at home, and the rapid glory of his exploits, did not more tend to change into a new planet, and a star with brilliant train, than did his own progeny. For of all the acts of Cæsar, there is not one more ennobling than that he was the father of this our Cæsar. Was it, forsooth, a greater thing to have conquered the Britons surrounded by the ocean, and to have steered his victorious ships along the seven-mouthed streams of the Nile that bears the papyrus, and to have added to the people of Quirinus the rebellious Numidians¹²⁷⁰ and the Cinyphian Juba, and Pontus¹²⁷¹ proud of the fame of Mithridates, and to have deserved many a triumph, and to have enjoyed some, than it was to have been the father of a personage so great, under whose tutelage over the world, you, ye Gods above, have shewn excessive care for the human race? That he then might not be sprung from mortal seed, ’twas fit that Julius should be made a Divinity. When the resplendent mother of Æneas was sensible of this; and when she saw that a sad death was in preparation for the Pontiff, and that the arms of the conspirators were brandished; she turned pale, and said to each of the Deities, as she met them:—

And yet, he came as a stranger to our temples. Cæsar is a god in his own city. He was equally distinguished in war and peace. His triumphant wars, his rule at home, and the swift glory of his exploits helped turn him into a new planet, a star with a brilliant tail. But his own offspring did no less to make him a god. Of all Cæsar’s deeds, none was more ennobling than being the father of our Cæsar. Was it really a greater achievement to conquer the Britons, surrounded by the ocean? Or to sail his victorious ships along the seven mouths of the papyrus-bearing Nile? Or to add the rebellious Numidians¹²⁷⁰, Cinyphian Juba, and Pontus¹²⁷¹, proud of Mithridates’ fame, to the people of Quirinus? Was it greater to deserve many triumphs and enjoy some of them? Was any of this greater than fathering so great a man? Under his care for the world, you, gods above, have shown extraordinary care for the human race. So that he would not be descended from a mortal, Julius had to be made a god. The radiant mother of Æneas understood this. She saw that a terrible death was being prepared for the Pontiff and that the conspirators were brandishing their weapons. She turned pale and said to each of the gods she met:

“Behold, on how vast a scale treason is plotted against me, and with how great perfidy that life is sought, which alone remains for me from the Dardanian Iülus. Shall I alone be everlastingly harassed by justified anxieties? I, whom one while the Calydonian lance of the son of Tydeus is wounding, and at another time the walls of Troy, defended in vain, are grieving? I, who have seen my son driven about in protracted wanderings, tossed on the ocean, entering the abodes of the departed, and waging war with Turnus; or, if we confess the truth, with Juno rather? But, why am I now calling to mind the ancient misfortunes of my own offspring? Present apprehensions do not allow me to remember things of former days. Against me, you behold how the impious swords are now being whetted. Avert them, I entreat; hinder this crime, and do not, by the murder of the priest, extinguish the flames of Vesta.”

“See how vast a plot of treason is being made against me, and how treacherously they seek to take that life. It is the only life left to me from the Dardanian Iülus. Must I alone be forever tormented by fears that prove justified? At one time, the Calydonian spear of the son of Tydeus wounds me. And at another, I grieve for the walls of Troy, defended in vain. I have seen my son driven through long wanderings, tossed on the ocean, and entering the realm of the dead. I have seen him wage war with Turnus, or, if we admit the truth, with Juno rather. But why do I now recall my child’s old misfortunes? My present fears leave me no time to remember the past. Look, they are sharpening their wicked swords against me now. I beg you, turn them aside. Stop this crime. Do not let the murder of the priest put out the flames of Vesta.”

Such expressions as these did Venus, full of anxiety, vainly let fall throughout the heavens, and she moved the Gods above. Although they were not able to frustrate the iron decrees of the aged sisters, yet they afforded no unerring tokens of approaching woe. They say, that arms resounding amid the black clouds, and dreadful blasts of the trumpet, and clarions heard through the heavens, forewarned men of the crime. The sad face too of the sun gave a livid light to the alarmed earth. Often did torches seem to be burning in the midst of the stars; often did drops of blood fall in the showers. The azure-coloured Lucifer had his light tinted with a dark iron colour; the chariot of the moon was besprinkled with blood. The Stygian owl gave omens of ill in a thousand places; in a thousand places did the ivory statues shed tears; dirges, too, are said to have been heard, and threatening expressions in the sacred groves. No victim gave an omen of good; the entrails, too, showed that great tumults were imminent; and the extremity of the liver was found cut off among the entrails. They say, too, that in the Forum, and around the houses and the temples of the Gods, the dogs were howling by night; and that the ghosts of the departed were walking, and that the City was shaken by earthquakes. But still the warnings of the Gods could not avert treachery and the approach of Fate, and drawn swords were carried into a temple; and no other place in the whole City than the Senate-house pleased them for this crime and this atrocious murder.

Full of anxiety, Venus spoke such words throughout the heavens, but in vain. She moved the gods above. Although they could not overturn the iron decrees of the aged sisters, they gave no unmistakable signs of coming disaster. They say that weapons clashed amid black clouds, and dreadful blasts of trumpets and clarions sounded through the heavens. These sounds warned people of the crime. The sun’s sad face cast a pale light on the frightened earth. Torches often seemed to burn among the stars, and drops of blood often fell with the rain. The blue light of Lucifer turned the dark color of iron, and the moon’s chariot was spattered with blood. The Stygian owl gave warnings of evil in a thousand places. In a thousand places, ivory statues shed tears. People also said that funeral songs and threatening words were heard in the sacred groves. No sacrificial victim gave a favorable omen. The entrails showed that great upheavals were near, and the tip of the liver was found cut off among them. They also say that dogs howled at night in the Forum and around the houses and temples of the gods. The ghosts of the dead walked, and earthquakes shook the City. But the warnings of the gods could not prevent treachery or the approach of Fate. Drawn swords were carried into a temple. No place in the whole City suited them for this crime and atrocious murder except the Senate-house.

But then did Cytherea beat her breast with both her hands, and attempt to hide the descendant of Æneas in a cloud, in which, long since, Paris was conveyed from the hostile son of Atreus,¹²⁷² and Æneas had escaped from the sword of Diomedes. In such words as these did her father Jove address her: “Dost thou, my daughter, unaided, attempt to change the insuperable decrees of Fate? Thou, thyself, mayst enter the abode of the three sisters, and there thou wilt behold the register of future events, wrought with vast labour, of brass and of solid iron; these, safe and destined for eternity, fear neither the thundering shock of the heavens, nor the rage of the lightnings, nor any source of destruction. There wilt thou find the destinies of thy descendants engraved in everlasting adamant. I myself have read them, and I have marked them in my mind; I will repeat them, that thou mayst not still be ignorant of the future. He (on whose account, Cytherea, thou art thus anxious), has completed his time, those years being ended which he owed to the earth. Thou, with his son, who, as the heir to his glory, will bear the burden of government devolving on him, wilt cause him, as a Deity, to reach the heavens, and to be worshipped in temples; and he, as a most valiant avenger of his murdered parent, will have us to aid him in his battles. The conquered walls of Mutina,¹²⁷³ besieged under his auspices, shall sue for peace; Pharsalia shall be sensible of him, and Philippi,¹²⁷⁴ again drenched with Emathian gore; and the name of one renowned as Great, shall be subdued in the Sicilian waves; the Egyptian dame too, the wife¹²⁷⁵ of the Roman general, shall fall, vainly trusting in that alliance; and in vain shall she threaten, that our own Capitol shall be obedient to her Canopus.¹²⁷⁶ Why should I recount to thee the regions of barbarism, and nations situate in either ocean? Whatever the habitable world contains, shall be his; the sea, too, shall be subject to him. Peace being granted to the earth, he will turn his attention to civil rights, and, as a most upright legislator, he will enact laws. After his own example, too, will he regulate manners; and, looking forward to the days of future time, and of his coming posterity, he will order the offspring born of his hallowed wife¹²⁷⁷ to assume both his own name and his cares. Nor shall he, until as an aged man he shall have equalled his glories with like years,¹²⁷⁸ arrive at the abodes of heaven and his kindred stars. Meanwhile, change this soul, snatched from the murdered body, into a beam of light, that eternally the Deified Julius may look down from his lofty abode upon our Capitol and Forum.”

But then Cytherea beat her breast with both hands. She tried to hide the descendant of Æneas in a cloud. Long ago, a cloud had carried Paris away from the hostile son of Atreus,¹²⁷² and Æneas had escaped the sword of Diomedes in one. Her father Jove addressed her in words like these: “My daughter, are you trying to change the unbreakable decrees of Fate by yourself? You may enter the home of the three sisters yourself. There you will see the record of future events, made with great labor from brass and solid iron. Safe and meant to last forever, these records fear neither the thundering shock of the heavens nor the fury of lightning. They fear no source of destruction. There you will find the destinies of your descendants engraved in everlasting adamant. I have read them myself and committed them to memory. I will tell you what they say, so that you will no longer be ignorant of the future. “He for whom you are so anxious, Cytherea, has lived out his allotted time. The years he owed to the earth have ended. You and his son will raise him to heaven as a god and see him worshipped in temples. His son will inherit his glory and take on the burden of government. As a most valiant avenger of his murdered father, he will have our help in battle. The walls of Mutina,¹²⁷³ besieged under his command, will be conquered and sue for peace. Pharsalia will feel his power, as will Philippi,¹²⁷⁴ once more drenched in Emathian blood. The man known as Great will be defeated on the Sicilian waves. The Egyptian lady, the wife¹²⁷⁵ of the Roman general, will also fall. She will have trusted in that alliance in vain. In vain, too, will she threaten to make our own Capitol obey her Canopus.¹²⁷⁶ “Why should I list the barbarian regions and the nations on either ocean? Everything in the habitable world will be his. The sea, too, will be subject to him. Once peace has been granted to the earth, he will turn his attention to civil rights. As a most upright lawgiver, he will enact laws. He will also guide people’s conduct by his own example. Looking ahead to future days and generations, he will order the offspring of his sacred wife¹²⁷⁷ to take on his name and his responsibilities. Only when he is old and his years match his glories¹²⁷⁸ will he reach the homes of heaven and his kindred stars. “Meanwhile, take this soul from the murdered body and change it into a beam of light. Then the deified Julius may look down forever from his lofty home upon our Capitol and Forum.”

Hardly had he uttered these words, when the genial Venus, perceived by none, stood in the very midst of the Senate-house, and snatched the soul, just liberated from the body, away from the limbs of her own Cæsar, and, not suffering it to dissolve in air, she bore it amid the stars of heaven. And as she bore it, she perceived it assume a train of light and become inflamed; and she dropped it from her bosom. Above the moon it takes its flight, and, as a star, it glitters, carrying a flaming train with a lengthened track; and, as he beholds the illustrious deeds of his son, he confesses that they are superior to his own, and rejoices that he is surpassed by him. Although Augustus forbids his own actions to be lauded before those of his father, still Fame, in her freedom and subject to no commands, prefers him against his will; and, in this one point, she disobeys him. Thus does Atreus yield to the glories of the great Agamemnon; thus does Theseus excel Ægeus, and thus Achilles Peleus. In fine, that I may use examples that equal themselves, thus too, is Saturn inferior to Jove. Jupiter rules the abodes of heaven and the realms of the threefold world:¹²⁷⁹ the earth is under Augustus: each of them is a father and a ruler. Ye Gods, the companions of Æneas,¹²⁸⁰ for whom both the sword and the flames made a way; and you, ye native Deities, and thou, Quirinus, the father of the City, and thou, Gradivus, the son of the invincible Quirinus, and thou, Vesta, held sacred among the Penates of Cæsar; and, with the Vesta of Cæsar, thou, Phœbus, enshrined in thy abode, and thou, Jupiter, who aloft dost possess the Tarpeian heights, and whatever other Deities it is lawful and righteous for a Poet to invoke; late, I pray, may be that day, and protracted beyond my life, on which the person of Augustus, leaving that world which he rules, shall approach the heavens: and when gone, may he propitiously listen to those who invoke him.

Hardly had he spoken when gracious Venus appeared, unseen by anyone, in the middle of the Senate-house. She snatched the soul of her own Cæsar, just freed from his body, away from his limbs. Not allowing the soul to dissolve in the air, she carried it among the stars of heaven. As she carried it, she saw it take on a trail of light and catch fire. Then she let it fall from her bosom. It flies above the moon and shines as a star, dragging a long, fiery trail behind it. As Cæsar sees the glorious deeds of his son, he admits that they are greater than his own. He rejoices that his son has surpassed him. Although Augustus forbids anyone to praise his deeds above his father's, Fame freely prefers him despite his wishes. She takes orders from no one, and on this one point she disobeys him. So Atreus yields to the glory of the great Agamemnon. So Theseus surpasses Ægeus, and Achilles surpasses Peleus. Finally, to use examples equal to these, Saturn too is inferior to Jove. Jupiter rules the homes of heaven and the realms of the threefold world:¹²⁷⁹ the earth is under Augustus. Each is a father and a ruler. Gods who accompanied Æneas,¹²⁸⁰ for whom both sword and flame opened a way, hear my prayer. Hear me too, native Deities, and you, Quirinus, father of the City. Hear me, Gradivus, son of the invincible Quirinus, and you, Vesta, sacred among Cæsar's Penates. Hear me, Phœbus, who shares a home with Cæsar's Vesta, and you, Jupiter, who rules high on the Tarpeian heights. Hear me, all other Deities whom a Poet may lawfully and rightly invoke. I pray that the day will come late, long after my own life has ended, when Augustus leaves the world he rules and approaches the heavens. And once he has gone, may he listen favorably to those who call upon him.

And now I have completed a work, which neither the anger of Jove, nor fire, nor steel, nor consuming time will be able to destroy! Let that day, which has no power but over this body of mine, put an end to the term of my uncertain life, when it will. Yet, in my better part, I shall be raised immortal above the lofty stars, and indelible shall be my name. And wherever the Roman power is extended throughout the vanquished earth, I shall be read by the lips of nations, and (if the presages of Poets have aught of truth) throughout all ages shall I survive in fame.

And now I have completed a work that neither Jove's anger, nor fire, nor steel, nor consuming time can destroy! Let the day that has power only over this body of mine end my uncertain life whenever it will. Yet my better part will rise immortal above the highest stars, and my name will never be erased. Wherever Roman power extends over the conquered earth, people of all nations will read my work aloud. And if the prophecies of poets hold any truth, my fame will live on through all ages.