And trace them to the gloomy origin.
“That serpent sure was hallow’d,” Cadmus cried,
“Which once my spear transfix’d with foolish pride;
When the big teeth, a seed before unknown,
By me along the wond’ring glebe were sown,
And sprouting armies by themselves o’erthrown.
If thence the wrath of heaven on me is bent,
May heaven conclude it with one sad event;
To an extended serpent change the man;”
And, while he spoke, the wish’d-for change began.
His skin with sea-green spots was varied round,
And on his belly prone he press’d the ground;
He glitter’d soon with many a golden scale,
And his shrunk legs closed in a spiry tail;
Arms yet remain’d, remaining arms he spread
To his loved wife, and human tears yet shed.
“Come, my Harmonia, come, thy face recline
Down to my face; still touch what still is mine.
O! let these hands, while hands, be gently press’d,
While yet the serpent has not all possess’d.”
More he had spoke, but strove to speak in vain,
The forky tongue refused to tell his pain,
And learn’d in hissings only to complain.
Then shriek’d Harmonia: “Stay, my Cadmus, stay,
Glide not in such a monstrous shape away!
Destruction, like impetuous waves, rolls on.
Where are thy feet, thy legs, thy shoulders, gone?
Changed is thy visage, changed is all thy frame,
Cadmus is only Cadmus now in name.
Ye gods, my Cadmus to himself restore,
Or me like him transform; I ask no more.”
The husband serpent show’d he still had thought,
With wonted fondness an embrace he sought,
Play’d round her neck in many a harmless twist,
And lick’d that bosom which, a man, he kiss’d.
The lookers-on (for lookers-on there were),
Shock’d at the sight, half died away with fear.
The transformation was again renew’d,
And, like the husband, changed the wife they view’d.
Both serpents now, with fold involved in fold,
To the next covert amicably roll’d.
There curl’d they lie, or wave along the green,
Fearless see men, by men are fearless seen,
Still mild, and conscious what they once have been.
Story of Perseus
Acrisius, the grandfather of Perseus, is at length compelled to acknowledge the divinity of Bacchus, and to commemorate the splendid achievements of his descendant.
Yet though this harsh inglorious fate they found,
Each in the deathless grandson lived renown’d.
Through conquer’d India Bacchus nobly rode,
And Greece with temples hail’d the conquering god.
In Argos only proud Acrisius reign’d,
Who all the consecrated rites profaned.
Audacious wretch! thus Bacchus to deny,
And the great Thunderer’s great son defy!
Nor him alone: thy daughter vainly strove
Brave Perseus of celestial stem to prove,
And herself pregnant by a golden Jove.
Yet this was true, and truth in time prevails;
Acrisius now his unbelief bewails.
His former thought an impious thought he found,
And both the hero and the god were own’d.
He saw, already, one in heaven was placed,
And one with more than mortal triumphs graced.
The victor Perseus, with the Gorgon head,
O’er Libyan sands his airy journey sped.
The gory drops distill’d, as swift he flew,
And from each drop envenom’d serpents grew.
The mischiefs brooded on the barren plains,
And still the unhappy fruitfulness remains.
Atlas Transformed to a Mountain
Perseus, after the conquest of the Gorgons, passes by the palace of Atlas, and solicits the rites of hospitality, which are refused—Perseus exhibits the head of Medusa, and the monarch is instantly changed into a large mountain, on which the world is supposed to rest.
Thence Perseus, like a cloud, by storms was driven,
Through all the expanse beneath the cope of heaven.
The jarring winds unable to control,
He saw the southern and the northern pole;
And eastward thrice, and westward thrice, was whirl’d,
And from the skies survey’d the nether world.
But when gray evening show’d the verge of night,
He fear’d in darkness to pursue his flight.
He poised his pinions, and forgot to soar,
And, sinking, closed them on the Hesperian shore
Then begg’d to rest, till Lucifer begun
To wake the morn, the morn to wake the sun.
Here Atlas reign’d, of more than human size,
And in his kingdom the world’s limit lies.
Here Titan bids his wearied coursers sleep,
And cools the burning axle in the deep:
The mighty monarch, uncontroll’d, alone
His sceptre sways: no neighb’ring states are known:
A thousand flocks on shady mountains fed,
A thousand herds o’er grassy plains were spread:
Here wondrous trees their shining stores unfold,
Their shining stores too wondrous to be told,
Their leaves, their branches, and their apples, gold.
Then Perseus the gigantic prince address’d,
Humbly implored a hospitable rest:
“If bold exploits thy admiration fire,”
He said, “I fancy mine thou wilt admire:
Or, if the glory of a race can move,
Not mean my glory, for I spring from Jove.”
At this confession Atlas ghastly stared,
Mindful of what an oracle declared,
That the dark womb of time conceal’d a day,
Which should, disclosed, the bloomy gold betray;
All should at once be ravish’d from his eyes,
And Jove’s own progeny enjoy the prize.
For this, the fruit he loftily immured,
And a fierce dragon the strait pass secured:
For this, all strangers he forbade to land,
And drove them from the inhospitable strand.
To Perseus then: “Fly, quickly fly, this coast,
Nor falsely dare thy acts and race to boast.”
In vain the hero for one night entreats,
Threat’ning he storms, and next adds force to threats.
By strength not Perseus could himself defend;
For who in strength with Atlas could contend?
“But since short rest to me thou wilt not give,
A gift of endless rest from me receive.”
He said, and backward turn’d, no more conceal’d
The present, and Medusa’s head reveal’d.
Soon the high Atlas a high mountain stood;
His locks and beard became a leafy wood;
His hands and shoulders into ridges went;
The summit-head still crown’d the steep ascent;
His bones a solid, rocky hardness gain’d,
He, thus immensely grown (as Fate ordain’d),
The stars, the heavens, and all the gods, sustain’d.
Andromeda Rescued from the Sea Monster
Perseus, returning in the air from the conquest of the Gorgons, beholds Andromeda chained to a rock, and exposed to a sea monster—The hero proposes to the father of the maiden to deliver her and destroy the monster, if he will consent to bestow her in marriage on him—The offer is joyfully accepted, and the promise speedily fulfilled.
Now Aeolus had with strong chains confined,
And deep imprison’d every blustering wind;
The rising Phospher with a purple light
Did sluggish mortals to new toils invite.
His feet again the valiant Perseus
