T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Salmacis and Hermaphroditus
By Ovid (43 B.C.18 A.D.)(From Metamorphoses, Book IV; translated by Joseph Addison) |
HOW Salmacis with weak enfeebling streams, | |
Softens the body and unnerves the limbs, | |
And what the secret cause, shall here be shown; | |
The cause is secret, but the effect is known. | |
The Naïads nurs’d an infant heretofore, | 5 |
That Cytherea once to Hermes bore; | |
From both the’ illustrious authors of his race | |
The child was nam’d; nor was it hard to trace | |
Both the bright parents through the infant’s face. | |
When fifteen years, in Ida’s cool retreat, | 10 |
The boy had told, he left his native seat, | |
And sought fresh fountains in a foreign soil; | |
The pleasure lessen’d the attending toil. | |
With eager steps the Lycian fields he crost, | |
And fields that border on the Lycian coast; | 15 |
A river here he view’d so lovely bright, | |
It show’d the bottom in a fairer light, | |
Nor kept a sand conceal’d from human sight” | |
The stream produc’d nor slimy ooze nor weeds, | |
Nor miry rushes nor the spiky reeds, | 20 |
But dealt enriching moisture all around, | |
The fruitful banks with cheerful verdure crown’d, | |
And kept the spring eternal on the ground. | |
A nymph presides, nor practis’d in the chase, | |
Nor skilful at the bow nor at the race, | 25 |
Of all the blue-eyed daughters of the Main, | |
The only stranger to Diana’s train: | |
Her sisters often, as ’tis said, would cry, | |
“Fie! Salmacis, what, always idle? fie! | |
Or take thy quiver, or thy arrows seize, | 30 |
And mix the toils of hunting with thy ease.” | |
Nor quiver she nor arrows e’er would seize, | |
Nor mix the toils of hunting with her ease, | |
But oft would bathe her in the crystal tide, | |
Oft with a comb her dewy locks divide: | 35 |
Now in the limpid streams she view’d her face, | |
And dress’d her image in the floating glass: | |
On beds of leaves she now repos’d her limbs, | |
Now gather’d flowers that grew about her streams, | |
And then by chance was gathering, as she stood | 40 |
To view the boy, and long’d for what she view’d. | |
Fain would she meet the youth with hasty feet, | |
She fain would meet him, but refus’d to meet | |
Before her looks were set with nicest care, | |
And well deserv’d to be reputed fair. | 45 |
“Bright youth,” she cries, “whom all thy features prove | |
A God, and, if a God, the God of Love; | |
But if a mortal, bless’d thy nurse’s breast, | |
Bless’d are thy parents, and thy sisters blest; | |
But, oh, how bless’d! how more than bless’d thy bride, | 50 |
Allied in bliss, if any get allied: | |
If so, let mine the stol’n enjoyments be; | |
If not, behold a willing bride in me.” | |
The boy knew nought of love, and, touch’d with shame, | |
He strove, and blush’d, but still the blush became; | 55 |
In rising blushes still fresh beauties rose; | |
The sunny side of fruit such blushes shows, | |
And such the moon, when all her silver white | |
Turns in eclipses to a ruddy light. | |
The nymph still begs if not a nobler bliss, | 60 |
A cold salute at least, a sister’s kiss; | |
And now prepares to take the lovely boy | |
Between her arms. He, innocently coy, | |
Replies, “Or leave me to myself alone, | |
You rude, uncivil nymph! or I’ll be gone.” | 65 |
“Fair Stranger! then,” says she, “it shall be so”; | |
And, for she fear’d his threats, she feign’d to go; | |
But hid within a covert’s neighbouring green, | |
She kept him still in sight, herself unseen. | |
The boy now fancies all the danger o’er, | 70 |
And innocently sports about the shore; | |
Playful and wanton to the stream he trips, | |
And dips his foot, and shivers as he dips. | |
The coolness pleas’d him, and with eager haste | |
His airy garments on the banks he cast; | 75 |
His godlike features and his heavenly hue, | |
And all his beauties, were expos’d to view. | |
His naked limbs the nymph with rapture spies, | |
While hotter passions in her bosom rise, | |
Flush in her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes. | 80 |
She longs, she burns, to clasp him in her arms, | |
And looks and sighs, and kindles at his charms. | |
Now all undress’d upon the banks he stood, | |
And clapp’d his sides, and leap’d into the flood; | |
His lovely limbs the silver waves divide, | 85 |
His limbs appear more lovely through the tide, | |
As lilies shut within a crystal case | |
Receive a glossy lustre from the glass. | |
“He’s mine, he’s all my own,” The Naïad cries, | |
And flings off all, and after him she flies. | 90 |
And now she fastens on him as he swims, | |
And holds him close, and wraps about his limbs. | |
The more the boy resisted, and was coy, | |
The more she clasp’d and kiss’d the struggling boy. | |
So when the wriggling snake is snatch’d on high | 95 |
In eagle’s claws, and hisses in the sky, | |
Around the foe his twirling tail he flings, | |
And twists her legs, and writhes about her wings. | |
The restless boy still obstinately strove | |
To free himself, and still refus’d her love. | 100 |
Amidst his limbs she kept her limbs entwin’d, | |
“And why, coy youth!” she cries, “why thus unkind? | |
Oh, may the gods thus keep us ever join’d! | |
Oh, may we never, never part again!” | |
So pray’d the nymph, nor did she pray in vain; | 105 |
For now she finds him, as his limbs she prest, | |
Grow nearer still, and nearer to her breast, | |
Till piercing each the other’s flesh, they run | |
Together, and incorporate in one: | |
Last in one face are both their faces join’d, | 110 |
As when the stock and grafted twig combin’d | |
Shoot up the same, and wear a common rind: | |
Both bodies in a single body mix, | |
A single body with a double sex. | |
The boy, thus lost in woman, now survey’d | 115 |
The river’s guilty stream, and thus he pray’d, | |
(He pray’d, but wonder’d at his softer tone, | |
Surpris’d to hear a voice but half his own) | |
“You parent gods, whose heavenly names I bear, | |
Hear your Hermaphrodite, and grant my pray’r; | 120 |
Oh, grant that whomso’er these streams contain, | |
If man he enter’d, he may rise again | |
Supple, unsinew’d, and but half a man!” | |
The heavenly parents answer’d, from on high, | |
Their two-shap’d son, the double votary; | 125 |
Then gave a secret virtue to the flood, | |
And ting’d its source to make his wishes good. | |