The Argive prince, at his contempt enraged,
To force his faith by fatal proof engaged:
“Friends, shut your eyes,” he cries: his shield he takes,
And to the king exposed Medusa’s snakes:
The monarch felt the power he would not own,
And stood convict of folly in the stone.
Minerva’s Interview with the Muses
Minerva visits Mount Helicon, the seat of the Muses, by whom she is hospitably entertained.
Thus far Minerva was content to rove
With Perseus, offspring of her father Jove:
Now hid in clouds Seriphus she forsook,
And to the Theban towers her journey took;
Cythnos and Gyaros, lying to the right,
She pass’d unheeded in her eager flight;
And choosing first on Helicon to rest,
The virgin muses in these words address’d:
“Me the strange tidings of a new-found spring,
Ye learned sisters, to this mountain bring.
If all the true that Fame’s wide rumours tell,
’Twas Pegasus discover’d first your well;
Whose piercing hoof gave the soft earth a blow,
Which broke the surface where these waters flow.
I saw that horse by miracle obtain
Life, from the blood of dire Medusa slain;
And now this equal prodigy to view,
From distant isles to famed Boeotia few.”
The muse Urania said: “Whatever cause
So great a goddess to this mansion draws,
Our shades are happy with so bright a guest;
You, queen, are welcome, and we muses bless’d.
What Fame has publish’d of our spring is true;
Thanks for our spring to Pegasus are due.”
Then with becoming courtesy, she led
The curious stranger to their fountain’s head,
Who long survey’d, with wonder and delight,
Their sacred water, charming to the sight;
Their ancient groves, dark grottoes, shady bowers,
And smiling plains, adorn’d with various flowers.
“O happy muses!” she with rapture cried,
“Who, safe from cares, on this fair hill reside;
Bless’d in your seat, and free, yourselves to please
With joys of study, and with glorious ease.”
Fate of Pyreneus
The Muses find shelter from the fury of the elements in the house of Pyreneus, King of Thrace, who presumes to offer violence to his guests—The goddesses take to their wings, and are pursued by their perfidious host, who is killed by a fall from a lofty precipice.
Then one replies: “O goddess, fit to guide
Our humble works, and in our choir preside,
Who sure would wisely to these fields repair,
To taste our pleasures, and our labours share,
Were not your virtue and superior mind,
To higher arts and nobler deeds inclined;
Justly you praise our works, and pleasing seat,
Which all might envy in this soft retreat,
Were we secured from dangers and from harms;
But maids are frighten’d with the least alarms,
And none are safe in this licentious time:
Still fierce Pyreneus, and his daring crime,
With lasting horror strikes my feeble sight,
Nor is my mind recover’d from the fright.
With Thracian arms this bold usurper gain’d
Daulis and Phocis, where he proudly reign’d.
It happen’d once, as through his lands we went,
For the bright temple of Parnassus bent,
He met us there, and, in his artful mind,
Hiding the faithless action he design’d,
Conferr’d on us (whom, O too well he knew!)
All honours that to goddesses are due.
‘Stop, stop, ye muses, ’tis your friend who calls,’
The tyrant said; ‘behold the rain that falls
On every side, and that ill-boding sky,
Whose lowering face portends more storms are nigh:
Pray make my house your own, and, void of fear,
While this bad weather lasts, take shelter here:
Gods have made meaner places their resort,
And for a cottage left their shining court.’
“Obliged to stop, by the united force
Of pouring rains, and complaisant discourse,
His courteous invitation we obey,
And in his hall resolve a while to stay.
Soon it clear’d up, the clouds began to fly,
The driving north refined the showery sky;
Then to pursue our journey we began;
But the false traitor to his portal ran;
Stopp’d our escape; the door securely barr’d,
And to our honour violence prepared;
But we, transform’d to birds, avoid his snare,
On pinions rising in the yielding air.
“But he, by lust and indignation fired,
Up to his highest tower with speed retired,
And cries ‘In vain you from my arms withdrew,
The way you go your lover will pursue.’
Then in a flying posture wildly placed,
And daring from that height himself to cast,
The wretch fell headlong, and the ground bestrew’d
With broken bones, and stains of guilty blood.”
Story of the Pierides
The daughters of Pierus challenge the Muses to a trial in music.
The muse yet spoke, when they began to hear
A noise of wings that flutter’d in the air;
And straight a voice, from some high-spreading bough,
Seem’d to salute the company below.
The goddess wonder’d, and inquired from whence
That tongue was heard, that spoke so plainly sense.
(It seem’d to her a human voice to be,
But proved a bird’s; for in a shady tree
Nine magpies perch’d, lament their alter’d state,
And what they hear are skilful to repeat.)
The sister to the wondering goddess said,
“These, foil’d by us, by us were thus repaid:
These did Evippe of Paeonia bring,
With nine hard labour-pangs, to Pella’s king.
The foolish virgins, of their number proud,
And puff’d with praises of the senseless crowd,
Through all Achaia and the Aemonian plains,
Defied us thus, to match their artless strains:
‘No more, ye Thespian girls, your notes repeat,
Nor with false harmony the vulgar cheat;
In voice or skill if you with us will vie,
As many we in voice or skill will try:
Surrender you to us, if we excel,
Famed Aganippe, and Medusa’s well:
The conquest yours, your prize from us shall be
The Aemathian plains to snowy Paeone:
The nymphs our judges.’ To dispute the field
We thought a shame; but greater shame to yield.
On seats of living stone the sisters sit,
And by the rivers swear to judge aright.”
Song of the Pierides
The challengers select the rebellion of the giants, and the various transformations of the gods to avoid their rage, as the subject of their song.
“Then rises one of the presumptuous throng,
Steps rudely forth, and first begins the song;
=With vain address describes the giants’ wars,
And to the gods their fabled acts prefers.
She sings from earth’s dark womb how Typhon rose,
And struck with mortal fear his heavenly foes;
How the gods fled to Egypt’s slimy soil,
And hid their heads beneath the banks of Nile;
How Typhon from the conquer’d skies pursued
Their routed godheads to the seven-mouth’d flood:
Forced every god, his fury to escape,
Some
