His fav’rite mares, and watch the generous breed.
The thievish god suspected him, and took
The hind aside, and thus in whispers spoke:
“Discover not the theft, whoe’er thou be,
And take that milk-white heifer for thy fee.”
“Go, stranger,” cries the clown, “securely on,
That stone shall sooner tell,” and showed a stone.
The god withdrew, but straight return’d again,
In speech and habit like a country swain,
And cries out: “Neighbour, hast thou seen a stray
Of bullocks and of heifers pass this way?
In the recovery of my cattle join,
A bullock and a heifer shall be thine.”
The peasant quick replies: “You’ll find them there
In yon dark vale;” and in the vale they were.
The double bribe had his false heart beguiled.
The god, successful in the trial, smiled:
“And dost thou thus betray myself to me?
Me to myself dost thou betray?” says he.
Then to a touchstone turns the faithless spy,
And in his name records his infamy.
Story of Aglauros Transformed Into a Statue
Herse, a daughter of Cecrops, is beloved by Mercury, who discloses his passion to Aglauros, her sister, who exacts large sums of money as the price of her connivance at the intrigue—Minerva, offended at the rapacity of the maiden, commands Envy to torment her continually; and Mercury at length changes her into a stone.
This done, the god flew up on high, and pass’d
O’er lofty Athens, by Minerva graced,
And wide Munichia, while his eyes survey
All the vast region that beneath him lay.
’Twas now the feast, when each Athenian maid
Her yearly homage to Minerva paid,
In canisters with garlands cover’d o’er,
High on their heads their mystic gifts they bore;
And now, returning in a solemn train,
The troop of shining virgins fill’d the plain.
The god, well pleased, beheld the pompous show,
And saw the bright procession pass below,
Then veer’d about and took a wheeling flight,
And hover’d o’er them; as the spreading kite,
That smells the slaughter’d victims from on high,
Flies at a distance, if the priests are nigh,
And sails around and keeps it in her eye,
So kept the god the virgin choir in view,
And in slow winding circles round them flew.
As Lucifer excels the meanest star,
Or as the full-orb’d Phoebe Lucifer,
So much did Herse all the rest outvie,
And gave a grace to the solemnity.
Hermes was fired as in the clouds he hung;
So the cold bullet, that with fury slung
From Balearic engines, mounts on high,
Glows in the whirl, and burns along the sky.
At length he pitch’d upon the ground, and show’d
The form divine, the features of a god.
He knew their virtue o’er a female heart,
And yet he strives to better them by art.
He hangs his mantle loose, and sets to show
The golden edging on the seam below;
Adjusts his flowing curls, and in his hand,
Waves with an air the sleep-procuring wand;
The glittering sandals to his feet applies,
And to each heel the well-trimm’d pinion ties.
His ornaments with nicest art display’d,
He seeks the apartment of the royal maid.
The roof was all with polish’d ivory lined,
That richly mix’d, in clouds of tortoise shined;
Three rooms, contiguous, in a range were placed,
The midmost by the beauteous Herse graced,
Her virgin sisters lodged on either side.
Aglauros first the approaching god descried,
And as he cross’d her chamber asked his name,
And what his bus’ness was, and whence he came.
“I come,” replied the god, “from heaven, to woo
Your sister, and to make an aunt of you.
I am the son and messenger of Jove,
My name is Mercury, my bus’ness love;
Do you, kind damsel, take a lover’s part,
And gain admittance to your sister’s heart.”
She stared him in the face with looks amaz’d,
As when she on Minerva’s secret gaz’d,
And asks a mighty treasure for her hire,
And till he brings it makes the god retire.
Minerva griev’d to see the nymph succeed,
And now remembering the late impious deed,
When, disobedient to her strict command,
She touch’d the chest with an unhallow’d hand,
In big-swoln sighs her inward rage express’d,
That heav’d the rising aegis on her breast;
Then sought out Envy in her dark abode,
Defil’d with ropy gore and clots of blood:
Shut from the winds and from the wholesome skies,
In a deep vale the gloomy dungeon lies,
Dismal and cold, where not a beam of light
Invades the winter or disturbs the night.
Directly to the cave her course she steer’d,
Against the gates her martial lance she rear’d,
The gates flew open, and the fiend appear’d.
A pois’nous morsel in her teeth she chew’d,
And gorged the flesh of vipers for her food.
Minerva, loathing, turn’d away her eye;
The hideous monster, rising heavily,
Came stalking forward with a sullen pace,
And left her mangled offals on the place.
Soon as she saw the goddess gay and bright,
She fetch’d a groan at such a cheerful sight;
Livid and meager were her looks, her eye
In foul distorted glances turn’d awry;
A hoard of gall her inward parts possess’d,
And spread a greenness o’er her canker’d breast;
Her teeth were brown with rust, and from her tongue,
In dangling drops, the stringy poison hung;
She never smiles but when the wretched weep,
Nor lulls her malice with a moment’s sleep;
Restless in spite, while watchful to destroy,
She pines and sickens at another’s joy;
Foe to herself, distressing and distress’d,
She bears her own tormentor in her breast.
The goddess gave (for she abhorr’d her sight)
A short command: “To Athens speed thy flight;
On cursed Aglauros try thy utmost art,
And fix thy rankest venoms in her heart.”
This said, her spear she push’d against the ground,
And mounting from it with an active bound,
Flew off to heaven. The hag with eyes askew
Look’d up, and mutter’d curses as she flew;
For sore she fretted, and began to grieve
At the success which she herself must give;
Then takes her staff, hung round with wreaths of thorn,
And sails along, in a black whirlwind borne,
O’er fields and flowery meadows. Where she steers
Her baneful course a mighty blast appears,
Mildews and blights; the meadows are defaced,
The fields, the flowers, and the whole year, laid waste.
On mortals next and peopled towns she falls,
And breathes a burning plague among their walls.
When Athens she beheld, for arts renown’d,
With peace made happy, and with plenty crown’d,
Scarce could the hideous fiend from tears forbear
To find out nothing that deserved a tear.
The apartment now she enter’d where at rest
Aglauros lay, with gentle sleep oppress’d,
To execute Minerva’s
