The Poetical Works of Addison; Gay's Fables; and Somerville's Chase · Chapter 11The Story of Coronis, and Birth of Æsculapius
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The raven once in snowy plumes was dress'd, White as the whitest dove's unsullied breast, Fair as the guardian of the Capitol, Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl; His tongue, his prating tongue, had changed him quite To sooty blackness from the purest white. The story of his change shall here be told: In Thessaly there lived a nymph of old, Coronis named; a peerless maid she shined, Confessed the fairest of the fairer kind. _10 Apollo loved her, till her guilt he knew, While true she was, or whilst he thought her true. But his own bird, the raven, chanced to find The false one with a secret rival joined. Coronis begged him to suppress the tale, But could not with repeated prayers prevail. His milk-white pinions to the god he plied; The busy daw flew with him, side by side, And by a thousand teasing questions drew The important secret from him as they flew. _20 The daw gave honest counsel, though despised, And, tedious in her tattle, thus advised: 'Stay, silly bird, the ill-natured task refuse, Nor be the bearer of unwelcome news. Be warned by my example: you discern What now I am, and what I was shall learn. My foolish honesty was all my crime; Then hear my story. Once upon a time, The two-shaped Ericthonius had his birth (Without a mother) from the teeming earth; _30 Minerva nursed him, and the infant laid Within a chest, of twining osiers made. The daughters of King Cecrops undertook To guard the chest, commanded not to look On what was hid within. I stood to see The charge obeyed, perched on a neighbouring tree. The sisters Pandrosos and Herse keep The strict command; Aglauros needs would peep, And saw the monstrous infant in a fright, And called her sisters to the hideous sight: _40 A boy's soft shape did to the waist prevail, But the boy ended in a dragon's tail. I told the stern Minerva all that passed, But for my pains, discarded and disgraced, The frowning goddess drove me from her sight, And for her favourite chose the bird of night. Be then no tell-tale; for I think my wrong Enough to teach a bird to hold her tongue. 'But you, perhaps, may think I was removed, As never by the heavenly maid beloved: _50 But I was loved; ask Pallas if I lie; Though Pallas hate me now, she won't deny: For I, whom in a feathered shape you view, Was once a maid, (by heaven, the story's true,) A blooming maid, and a king's daughter too. A crowd of lovers owned my beauty's charms; My beauty was the cause of all my harms; Neptune, as on his shores I went to rove, Observed me in my walks, and fell in love. He made his courtship, he confessed his pain, _60 And offered force when all his arts were vain; Swift he pursued: I ran along the strand, Till, spent and wearied on the sinking sand, I shrieked aloud, with cries I filled the air To gods and men; nor god nor man was there: A virgin goddess heard a virgin's prayer. For, as my arms I lifted to the skies, I saw black feathers from my fingers rise; I strove to fling my garment to the ground; My garment turned to plumes, and girt me round: _70 My hands to beat my naked bosom try; Nor naked bosom now nor hands had I. Lightly I tripped, nor weary as before Sunk in the sand, but skimmed along the shore; Till, rising on my wings, I was preferred To be the chaste Minerva's virgin bird: Preferred in vain! I now am in disgrace: Nyctimene, the owl, enjoys my place. 'On her incestuous life I need not dwell, (In Lesbos still the horrid tale they tell,) _80 And of her dire amours you must have heard, For which she now does penance in a bird, That, conscious of her shame, avoids the light, And loves the gloomy covering of the night; The birds, where'er she flutters, scare away The hooting wretch, and drive her from the day.' The raven, urged by such impertinence, Grew passionate, it seems, and took offence, And cursed the harmless daw; the daw withdrew: The raven to her injured patron flew, _90 And found him out, and told the fatal truth Of false Coronis and the favoured youth. The god was wroth; the colour left his look, The wreath his head, the harp his hand forsook: His silver bow and feathered shafts he took, And lodged an arrow in the tender breast, That had so often to his own been pressed. Down fell the wounded nymph, and sadly groaned, And pulled his arrow reeking from the wound; And weltering in her blood, thus faintly cried, _100 'Ah, cruel god! though I have justly died, What has, alas! my unborn infant done, That he should fall, and two expire in one? This said, in agonies she fetched her breath. The god dissolves in pity at her death; He hates the bird that made her falsehood known, And hates himself for what himself had done; The feathered shaft, that sent her to the fates, And his own hand that sent the shaft he hates. Fain would he heal the wound, and ease her pain, _110 And tries the compass of his art in vain. Soon as he saw the lovely nymph expire, The pile made ready, and the kindling fire, With sighs and groans her obsequies he kept, And, if a god could weep, the god had wept. Her corpse he kissed, and heavenly incense brought, And solemnised the death himself had wrought. But, lest his offspring should her fate partake, Spite of the immortal mixture in his make, He ripped her womb, and set the child at large, _120 And gave him to the centaur Chiron's charge: Then in his fury blacked the raven o'er, And bid him prate in his white plumes no more.
Old Chiron took the babe with secret joy, Proud of the charge of the celestial boy. His daughter too, whom on the sandy shore The nymph Chariclo to the centaur bore, With hair dishevelled on her shoulders came To see the child, Ocyrrhöe was her name; She knew her father's arts, and could rehearse The depths of prophecy in sounding verse. Once, as the sacred infant she surveyed, The god was kindled in the raving maid, _10 And thus she uttered her prophetic tale; 'Hail, great physician of the world, all hail; Hail, mighty infant, who in years to come Shalt heal the nations and defraud the tomb; Swift be thy growth! thy triumphs unconfined! Make kingdoms thicker, and increase mankind. Thy daring art shall animate the dead, And draw the thunder on thy guilty head: Then shalt thou die; but from the dark abode Rise up victorious, and be twice a god. _20 And thou, my sire, not destined by thy birth To turn to dust, and mix with common earth, How wilt thou toss, and rave, and long to die, And quit thy claim to immortality; When thou shalt feel, enraged with inward pains, The Hydra's venom rankling in thy veins'? The gods, in pity, shall contract thy date, And give thee over to the power of Fate.' Thus, entering into destiny, the maid The secrets of offended Jove betrayed; _30 More had she still to say; but now appears Oppressed with sobs and sighs, and drowned in tears. 'My voice,' says she, 'is gone, my language fails; Through every limb my kindred shape prevails: Why did the god this fatal gift impart, And with prophetic raptures swell my heart! What new desires are these? I long to pace O'er flowery meadows, and to feed on grass: I hasten to a brute, a maid no more; But why, alas! am I transformed all o'er? _40 My sire does half a human shape retain, And in his upper parts preserves the man.' Her tongue no more distinct complaints affords, But in shrill accents and mishapen words Pours forth such hideous wailings, as declare The human form confounded in the mare: Till by degrees accomplished in the beast, She neighed outright, and all the steed expressed. Her stooping body on her hands is borne, Her hands are turned to hoofs, and shod in horn; _50 Her yellow tresses ruffle in a mane, And in a flowing tail she frisks her train. The mare was finished in her voice and look, And a new name from the new figure took.
Sore wept the centaur, and to Phoebus prayed; But how could Phoebus give the centaur aid? Degraded of his power by angry Jove, In Elis then a herd of beeves he drove; And wielded in his hand a staff of oak, And o'er his shoulders threw the shepherd's cloak; On seven compacted reeds he used to play, And on his rural pipe to waste the day. As once, attentive to his pipe, he played, The crafty Hermes from the god conveyed _10 A drove, that separate from their fellows strayed. The theft an old insidious peasant viewed, (They called him Battus in the neighbourhood,) Hired by a wealthy Pylian prince to feed His favourite 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, _20 That stone shall sooner tell;' and showed a stone. The god withdrew, but straight returned 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 'em there, In yon dark vale:' and in the vale they were. The double bribe had his false heart beguiled: _30 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.
This done, the god flew up on high, and passed O'er lofty Athens, by Minerva graced, And wide Munichia, whilst 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 covered o'er, High on their heads their mystic gifts they bore; And now, returning in a solemn train, The troop of shining virgins filled the plain. _10 The god well-pleased beheld the pompous show, And saw the bright procession pass below; Then veered about, and took a wheeling flight, And hovered o'er them: as the spreading kite, That smells the slaughtered victim 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, _20 Or as the full-orbed 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 pitched upon the ground, and showed The form divine, the features of a god. He knew their virtue o'er a female heart, _30 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-trimmed pinion ties. His ornaments with nicest art displayed, He seeks the apartment of the royal maid. The roof was all with polished ivory lined, _40 That, richly mixed, 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 crossed her chamber, asked his name, And what his business 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, _50 My name is Mercury, my business, 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 amazed, As when she on Minerva's secret gazed, And asks a mighty treasure for her hire, And, till he brings it, makes the god retire. Minerva grieved to see the nymph succeed; And now remembering the late impious deed, When, disobedient to her strict command, _60 She touched the chest with an unhallowed hand; In big-swoln sighs her inward rage expressed, That heaved the rising Ægis on her breast; Then sought out Envy in her dark abode, Defiled 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 steered; _70 Against the gates her martial lance she reared; The gates flew open, and the fiend appeared. A poisonous morsel in her teeth she chewed, And gorged the flesh of vipers for her food. Minerva loathing turned 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 fetched a groan at such a cheerful sight. _80 Livid and meagre were her looks, her eye In foul, distorted glances turned awry; A hoard of gall her inward parts possessed, And spread a greenness o'er her cankered 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; _90 Foe to herself, distressing and distressed, She bears her own tormentor in her breast. The goddess gave (for she abhorred 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 pushed against the ground, And mounting from it with an active bound, Flew off to heaven: the hag with eyes askew Looked up, and muttered curses as she flew; _100 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, _110 When Athens she beheld, for arts renowned, With peace made happy, and with plenty crowned, Scarce could the hideous fiend from tears forbear, To find out nothing that deserved a tear. The apartment now she entered, where at rest Aglauros lay, with gentle sleep oppressed. To execute Minerva's dire command, She stroked the virgin with her cankered hand, Then prickly thorns into her breast conveyed, That stung to madness the devoted maid; _120 Her subtle venom still improves the smart, Frets in the blood, and festers in the heart. To make the work more sure, a scene she drew, And placed before the dreaming virgin's view Her sister's marriage, and her glorious fate: The imaginary bride appears in state; The bridegroom with unwonted beauty glows, For Envy magnifies whate'er she shows. Full of the dream, Aglauros pined away In tears all night, in darkness all the day; _130 Consumed like ice, that just begins to run, When feebly smitten by the distant sun; Or like unwholesome weeds, that, set on fire, Are slowly wasted, and in smoke expire. Given up to Envy, (for in every thought, The thorns, the venom, and the vision wrought). Oft did she call on death, as oft decreed, Rather than see her sister's wish succeed, To tell her awful father what had passed: At length before the door herself she cast; _140 And, sitting on the ground with sullen pride, A passage to the love-sick god denied. The god caressed, and for admission prayed, And soothed, in softest words, the envenomed maid. In vain he soothed; 'Begone!' the maid replies, 'Or here I keep my seat, and never rise.' 'Then keep thy seat for ever!' cries the god, And touched the door, wide-opening to his rod. Fain would she rise, and stop him, but she found Her trunk too heavy to forsake the ground; _150 Her joints are all benumbed, her hands are pale, And marble now appears in every nail. As when a cancer in her body feeds, And gradual death from limb to limb proceeds; So does the dullness to each vital part Spread by degrees, and creeps into her heart; Till, hardening everywhere, and speechless grown, She sits unmoved, and freezes to a stone. But still her envious hue and sullen mien Are in the sedentary figure seen. _160