Silver Age
The earth, no longer under the dominion of Saturn, begins to exhibit marks of degeneracy.
But when good Saturn, banish’d from above,
Was driven to hell, the world was under Jove.
Succeeding times a silver age behold,
Excelling brass, but more excell’d by gold.
Then summer, autumn, winter, did appear,
And spring was but a season of the year;
The sun his annual course obliquely made,
Good days contracted, and enlarged the bad.
Then air with sultry heats began to glow,
The wings of winds were clogg’d with ice and snow;
And shivering mortals, into houses driven,
Sought shelter from the inclemency of heaven.
Those houses, then, were caves or homely sheds,
With twining osiers fenced, and moss their beds.
Then ploughs, for seed, the fruitful furrows broke,
And oxen labour’d first beneath the yoke.
Brazen Age
Origin of War.
To this came next in course the brazen age;
A warlike offspring, prompt to bloody rage,
Not impious yet.
Iron Age
The Virtues, in despair, quit the earth; and the depravity of man becomes universal and complete.
Hard steel succeeded then,
And stubborn as the metal were the men.
Truth, modesty, and shame, the world forsook;
Fraud, avarice, and force, their places took.
Then sails were spread to every wind that blew,
Raw were the sailors and the depths were new;
Trees, rudely hollow’d did the waves sustain,
Ere ships in triumph plough’d the watery plain.
Then landmarks limited to each his right;
For all before was common as the light.
Nor was the ground alone required to bear
Her annual income to the crooked share,
But greedy mortals, rummaging her store,
Digg’d from her entrails first the precious ore
(Which next to hell the prudent gods had laid),
And that alluring ill to sight display’d.
Thus cursed steel, and more accursed gold,
Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief bold;
And double death did wretched man invade,
By steel assaulted, and by gold betray’d.
Now (brandish’d weapons glittering in their hands)
Mankind is broken loose from moral bands;
No rights of hospitality remain;
The guest, by him who harbour’d him, is slain;
The son-in-law pursues the father’s life;
The wife her husband murders, he the wife;
The stepdame poison for the son prepares;
The son inquires into his father’s years;
Faith flies, and piety in exile mourns;
And justice, here oppress’d, to heaven returns.
Giants’ War
Men of enormous stature, sons of Coelus and Terra, affect to scale the walls of heaven, but are overthrown by the thunder of Jupiter—The earth, becoming impregnated by the blood of these monsters, begets men of similar disposition to their fathers, among whom Lycaon, tyrant of Arcadia, signalizes himself by putting to death all strangers who seek his protection—Jupiter transforms him into the shape of a wolf, and destroys the whole human race by a universal deluge, with the exception of Deucalion and Pyrrha, who people the earth with a new race by the conversion of stones into men—A huge serpent, named Pytho, makes its appearance, and excites universal terror, till he is at length destroyed by the shafts of Apollo—The Pythian games are instituted in honour of this exploit.
Nor were the gods themselves more safe above,
Against beleaguer’d heaven the giants move,
Hills piled on hills, on mountains mountains lie,
To make their mad approaches to the sky;
Till Jove, no longer patient, took his time
To avenge with thunder their audacious crime.
Red lightning play’d along the firmament,
And their demolish’d works to pieces rent.
Singed with the flames, and with the bolts transfix’d.
With native earth their blood the monsters mix’d.
The blood, indued with animating heat,
Did, in the impregnant earth, new sons beget.
They, like the seed from which they sprung, accursed,
Against the gods immortal hatred nursed;
An impious, arrogant, and cruel brood,
Expressing their original from blood.
Which, when the king of gods beheld from high
(Withal revolving in his memory
What he himself had found on earth of late,
Lycaon’s guilt, and his inhuman treat),
He sigh’d, nor longer with his pity strove,
But kindled to a wrath becoming Jove.
Then call’d a general council of the gods,
Who, summon’d, issue from their bless’d abodes,
And fill the assembly with a shining train.
A way there is in heaven’s expanded plain,
Which, when the skies are clear, is seen below,
And mortals by the name of milky know;
The groundwork is of stars; through which the road
Lies open to the Thunderer’s abode;
The gods of greater nations dwell around,
And, on the right and left, the palace bound;
The commons where they can; the nobler sort,
With winding doors wide open, front the court.
This place, as far as earth with heaven may vie,
I dare to call the Louvre of the sky.
When all were placed in seats distinctly known,
And he, their father, had assumed the throne,
Upon his ivory sceptre first he lean’d,
Then shook his head, that shook the firmament:
Air, earth, and seas, obey’d the almighty nod,
And, with a general fear, confess’d the god;
At length, with indignation, thus he broke
His awful silence, and the powers bespoke:
“I was not more concern’d in that debate
Of empire, when our universal state
Was put to hazard, and the giant race
Our captive skies were ready to embrace;
For though the foe was fierce, the seeds of all
Rebellion sprung from one original;
Now, wheresoever ambient waters glide,
All are corrupt, and all must be destroy’d.
Let me this holy protestation make;
By hell, and hell’s inviolable lake,
I tried whatever in the godhead lay;
But gangrened members must be lopp’d away,
Before the nobler parts are tainted to decay.
There dwells below a race of demi-gods,
Of nymphs in waters, and of fauns in woods,
Who though not worthy yet in heaven to live,
Let them, at least, enjoy that earth we give.
Can these be thought securely lodged below,
When I myself, who no superior know,
I, who have heaven and earth at my command,
Have been attempted by Lycaon’s hand?”
At this a murmur through the synod went,
And, with one voice, they vote his punishment.
Thus, when conspiring traitors dared to doom
The fall of Caesar, and in him of Rome,
The nations trembled with a pious fear,
Ail anxious for their earthly Thunderer;
Nor was their care, O Caesar, less esteem’d
By thee, than that of heaven for Jove was deem’d:
Who, with his hand and voice, did first restrain
Their murmurs, then resumed his speech again.
The gods to silence were composed, and sate
With reverence, due to his superior state.
“Cancel your
