Book Read Free

The Thebaid

Page 19

by Publius Papinius Statius


  to hear the prophet’s chanting. He was anxious

  and wound wool ribbons on his hands and shoulders

  and would as soon have left these rites unfinished,

  just like a hunter who awaits a lion

  driven to thickets by loud clamor in

  • the forests of Gaetulia: he girds

  his soul and waits; he sweats; he grips his weapon;

  his face is numb with terror; his knees shake.

  What will emerge? How big? He hears the awful

  noise of its roaring. Blinded by his panic,

  he calculates its distance by the sound.

  But nothing happened, so Tiresias

  500

  cried, ‘‘Goddesses—for whom I poured from fatal

  BOOK ∂ ∞≠∞

  beakers on plowed-up earth and moistened flames!

  I am unable to endure delay!

  You disregard me, though I am a priest.

  If a Thessalian woman’s raving charms

  conjured you, would you come? Would hell

  grow pale and shake as often as a witch

  from Colchis might apply her Scythian poisons?

  I do not care to raise the dead from graves.

  I do not carry urns of ancient bones.

  Is that why you ignore me? so that I

  will not profane celestial gods or those

  of Erebus by mingling them, or hunt

  pale phantoms with my sword, or pluck diseased

  organs from corpses? Goddesses, do not

  511

  despise, I warn you, my old age or this

  dark cloud upon my brow, for even I

  am capable of rage. There is a deity

  • you fear to know, whose name you are afraid

  to say, but he is known to me, and I

  would conjure Hecate by him, did I not

  revere you, o Thymbraean—o Apollo!

  He is the ruler of the triple world.

  His name may not be known; it is forbidden.

  He . . . but I must be silent. My old age,

  my years of peace, forbid my saying . . .’’

  Manto, Apollo’s priestess, cut him o√:

  518

  ‘‘Father, attend! The bloodless phantoms come!

  The chaos of Elysium appears;

  the massive canopy of this dark world

  bursts open and reveals dark rivers, forests.

  Acheron pours black mud, and Phlegethon

  curls flames of darkness down its smoking waves.

  Styx flows among the phantoms and divides them.

  I can discern the king, pale on his throne,

  surrounded by Eumenides, who do

  his deadly work. And there is Stygian Juno

  in grim rooms on her gloomy bridal bed.

  Dark Death sits on an eminence and counts

  528

  the noiseless multitude as more arrive.

  The arbiter from Crete turns hard his urn:

  ∞≠≤ STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  • this judge is Minos, from Gortynia.

  He chooses names and threatens them to find

  the truth about their past lives. They confess

  the gains that they have gotten from their crimes.

  But what concern have you for Erebus,

  the god of darkness, and his monsters, his

  Scyllas, his Centaurs full of empty rage,

  the adamantine chains that bind the Giants,

  or hundred-armed Aegaeon’s narrow shade?’’

  Tiresias answered, ‘‘O my guide, support

  536

  • of my old age, it’s true: there is no need

  to tell of these. Who does not know about

  the stone that must be rolled back, or the lake

  that falsely tempts, or Tityos, who feeds

  the vultures, or tormented Ixion,

  540

  tied to an ever turning wheel? I’ve seen

  the hidden realms myself, back when my blood

  was stronger. Hecate guided me, before

  the god eclipsed my eyes and put my light

  inside me. Better if you call, with prayers,

  the souls of Argos and of Thebes. Avert

  the others’ footsteps. Sprinkle milk four times

  and order them to leave this dreary grove.

  Now then, inform me how they look and dress.

  Who craves the blood you pour? Which race approaches

  most proudly? Teach my blindness, daughter. Speak!’’

  She did as she was told. She sang the songs

  549

  that make the scattered phantoms come and go,

  • just like Medea or deceptive Circe

  on the Aegean shores (if you ignore

  their evils). She described the sacrifice:

  ?’’Cadmus is first to lift his sluggish face

  553

  above the lake of blood, and next to him

  the daughter of the Cytherean goddess—

  Harmonia—arrives and both have serpents

  protruding from their heads, and both snakes drink.

  BOOK ∂ ∞≠≥

  ‘‘They are surrounded by the men of Mars,

  556

  earthborn companions who lived just one day.

  Each one holds weapons. Each one grips his sword.

  They block each other, clash. They rage like men

  who breathe the air, but they avoid the swamp.

  Instead, they thirst for one another’s blood.

  ?’’Next comes a group of daughters and the grandsons

  561

  • they mourn. Here is Autonoe, bereft,

  • and Ino, panting, looking at a bow

  and pressing to her breast her precious infant.

  • Semele holds her arms before her womb.

  • Agave moans as she runs after Pentheus,

  566

  her son, along the banks of wandering Lethe,

  her thyrsi broken, for the god has left her.

  He flees past Stygian lakes to where his father,

  Echion, weeps for him and tends the body

  his wife had torn to shreds. I recognize

  570

  sad Lycus and Aeolides, the son

  of Aeolus, named Athamas, whose right

  elbow is raised: his shoulder bears the burden

  of his son’s lifeless corpse. And there is he,

  Actaeon, son of Aristaeus, whose

  condition and his metamorphosis—

  sign of his guilt—have not been altered. Horns

  roughen his brow; his hands hold weapons; he

  repels the wide-mouthed hounds that tear his limbs.

  And here comes Niobe, the envious child

  of Tantalus, surrounded by great crowds.

  Misfortunes do not dash her. She is proud

  of every corpse she mourns, the slain she counts,

  and pleased that she has fled from heaven’s sway.

  Now, even more, her mad tongue has its way.’’

  The virgin priestess chanted while Tiresias

  579

  listened and white hairs raised his woolen garland.

  His gaunt face flushed with blood, and he no longer

  leaned on his steadying sta√ or virgin daughter

  but stood erect and said: ‘‘Cease singing, Manto;

  ∞≠∂ STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  there is enough external light for me.

  The heavy clouds depart, dark shades recede

  before my face. A spirit fills my soul.

  Daughter, what is its source? The god Apollo?

  Or ghosts? Behold, the Argive phantoms lower

  their eyes and weep. Grim Abas. Dangerous

  589

  Proteus. Mild Phoroneus. Pelops—maimed.

  And Oenomaus, fouled by bitter dust.

  Large tears roll down their faces—therefore, I

  predict that Thebes will win t
he war. But who

  are these, compacted in a group? And why

  do they regard us so unpeacefully?

  Their faces and their breasts are dripping blood.

  They raise a silent shout, lift outstretched hands.

  Their wounds and weapons show their quality—

  the souls of warriors. Eteocles,

  am I deceived? Is this the group of fifty?

  Do you see Cthonius and Chromis and

  Phegeus—and Maeon? He stands out because

  he wears our crown of laurel. Do not be

  599

  angry, o soldiers! Your assignment was

  no mortal man’s idea, for Atropos,

  the Destiny of iron, spun your years.

  You met your Fate; we still must face war’s horror

  and battle Tydeus.’’ So he spoke. The ghosts

  pressed for the woolen ribbons in his hair,

  but he drove them aside and toward the blood.

  Along the sad shore of Cocytos stood

  604

  Laius, alone. The winged god Mercury

  had redelivered him to harsh Avernus

  from where, his eyes askew, he watched his grandson,

  whose evil face he knew. He had no thirst

  for blood or other fluids, like the rest,

  but breathed immortal odium. The priest—

  Aonian Tiresias—enticed

  him forward, ‘‘Famous king of Tyrian Thebes!

  No peaceful sun has seen Amphion’s towers

  since your demise. You have su≈ciently

  avenged your bloody death, and your descendants

  have placated your shade. Whom do you flee,

  BOOK ∂ ∞≠Σ

  so miserably? He whom you mutter for

  614

  now lies in endless night, with death close by.

  Corrupted blood and dried pus veil his eyes,

  which no light enters. Take my word, his fate

  is worse than death, but your son’s son is guiltless.

  Why do you turn from him? Come here and sate

  yourself with sacrificial blood. Reveal

  the revolutions of the times. Tell who will die

  in war: the enemy, or citizens

  you pity? I will then arrange that you

  may cross forbidden Lethe on the boat

  of your desire, and settle you in peace

  among the Stygian gods on holy ground.’’

  The promise of reward assuaged King Laius.

  624

  His cheeks took color. He responded thus:

  ‘‘We are the same age, priest. Why have you chosen

  me from among the many ghosts you raised

  to give prognostications of the future?

  It would be shameful if my grandsons asked

  advice from me. They should adjure the one

  so pleased to pierce his father with his sword.

  Who crawled back to the womb? who paid his wanton

  mother deposit? Oedipus, who tires

  the gods and midnight councils of the Furies;

  who conjures my dead soul to join his battle.

  If I have been selected as a prophet

  in times as terrible as these, then let

  me say what Lachesis and cruel Megaera

  permit me: war comes everywhere, unnumbered

  soldiers! Gradivus—fatal god of battle—

  goads on the Argive sons of Lerna’s swamp.

  But they are stopped by wonders of the world,

  by weapons of the gods, by glorious deaths,

  and those delays decreed by law that keep

  invaders from the final funeral fires.

  Thebes’ victory is certain; do not fear;

  641

  your vicious brother will not gain your kingdom.

  The Furies, your dual wrongs, and your cruel father,

  whom your sad swords will make victorious,

  will be, to my regret, all that remains.’’

  ∞≠Π STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  He slid away when he had spoken, leaving

  Tiresias and King Eteocles

  in doubt about his ambiguities.

  –?–?–?–

  Meanwhile, the wandering legions of the sons

  646

  of Inachus had reached the cooling glades

  of Nemea, where Hercules performed

  such deeds that thickets still recall his praise.

  Already they were busy taking booty,

  eager to overthrow and pillage homes.

  Who turned their rage? What brought about delay?649

  Why did they stray when they had gone halfway?

  Teach us, Apollo! Little now remains.

  • Start from the dim beginnings of their fame.

  • Liber, the god of wine, who wasted Haemus,

  653

  was feeble as he rearrayed for war.

  Two winter seasons he had taught the martial

  Thracians the orgies, mysteries of wine,

  to plant on Rhodope Icarian shades,

  and make the sides of Othrys green with vines.

  And now he drove his chariot, bedecked

  656

  with leaves and tendrils, to his mother’s walls.

  • Unbridled lynxes followed, left and right,

  while tigers licked their harness, soaked in wine.

  Behind him came the joyous Bacchanals,

  bearing the spoils of cattle, half-dead wolves,

  and she-bears torn to pieces. His companions

  were not inactive. Here, with steps that staggered,

  • the members of his sect marched: Fear and Anger,

  Ardor, who’s never sober, Madness, Valor.

  Then Bacchus noticed rising clouds of dust

  664

  that swirled through Nemea and sunrays flashing

  from metal. He saw Thebans unprepared.

  The sight unnerved him, he felt faint, he drooped.

  He ordered cymbals, pipes, and pounding drums

  BOOK ∂ ∞≠π

  to cease their playing; in astonishment,

  he spoke:

  ‘‘That mass of soldiers is engaged

  to kill me and my followers. Their rage

  has simmered over time. The endless anger

  of Juno, my stepmother, and fierce Argos

  incite this warfare. Was it not enough

  that Semele, my mother, burned to dust?

  Impious Juno battles idle Thebes—

  the relics and the grave of Semele,

  her husband’s mistress, who was blown apart

  while bearing me. Companions, take the field;

  meanwhile I will use fraud to weave delay.’’

  His team of Caspian tigers swelled their manes

  678

  when he gave them the signal to proceed.

  He spoke, and just that quickly reached the plain.

  It was the moment when the sun had reached

  680

 

‹ Prev