by Peter Jones
381–9: We know of about 300 oracular shrines from the ancient world. To judge by the records (left on inscriptions) of visits to them, an oracle was perfectly capable of giving clear answers to questions, especially those dealing with religious ritual (like ‘Which gods should we worship if we want to achieve X?’). In myth, however, the oracle’s utter-ances were traditionally baffling and needed interpretation to understand; the will of the gods was not expected by ancients to be crystal clear to mere mortals (any more than the will of God is today). So the couple’s baffled reaction to Themis’ command (384) was only to be expected, and sets the tone for this scene. It was a fearful thing (386) to reject a divine command, especially for people as pious as Pyrrha and Deucalion, but Pyrrha’s refusal to carry out her orders (385) is not surprising, given that the gods were traditionally severe on those who mistreated the dead, especially their own parents – which the oracle here seems to be inviting them to do. Deucalion clearly agrees with her initial reaction – the oracle surely cannot refer to their literal mothers – so, knowing as they do that oracles are bewildering (388–9), they debate the matter between themselves (389).
390–7: Now Deucalion gently proposes the solution (393–4). Observe how piously cautious he is: they might be wrong (391), but the gods can never do wrong (392), so . . . Pyrrha is not immediately persuaded (395–6), and Deucalion too shares her doubts (396–7) – these two work as a pair – but they see that no harm can come from at least giving it a try (397).
398–402: They carry out the ritual preparation ordered by the god (398) and lo, Deucalion’s suggestion works (400 ff.). Observe the rhetorical question quis crēdat: Ovid loves to tease by dropping into mock historical mode, like a serious historian supplying the ‘evidence’ of ‘witnesses’. Observe that they throw the stones post uestīgia (399) – i.e. as they walk away from the temple, they pick up whatever stones they see and lob them behind them.
So far, Ovid has provided us with a delightful picture of a loyal, loving and devout couple doing all they can between themselves to retrieve a desperate situation in the interests of all mankind, by seeking divine help and trying to make sense of it. Now Ovid faces a ‘what if?’ problem of the sort he revelled in. What would it actually be like if stones turned into humans? How would it actually work? What would be the logic behind it? Here one can sense the endlessly ingenious, inventive and imaginative Ovidian brain going into overdrive to come up with a suitably convincing poetic solution. First, he reasons, rocks are hard: they must therefore become soft (401–2). Only thus can they begin, gradually, to take on a different shape (402).
403–15: But rocks are also small, at least those which the couple can pick up. They must therefore increase in size, and in so doing their essential nature as stones begins unalterably to yield (403–4). Their shape can now come to seem like that of a man: not yet obvious (404), not yet the finished article, but very like a carved statue emerging from (hard) stone (405–6). Ovid now homes in on the details. Stones have earthy and wet parts, Ovid claims: these become the flesh (407–8). Is he talking of rocks covered in wet earth after the flood? No: the Latin does not say that. Ovid is repeating an ancient theory articulated by the Greek philosopher Xenophanes that mud could turn into stone. This is in fact true of e.g. sedimentary rock formed out of mud, clay and sand which had been deposited and subjected to immense pressures for millions of years. Xenophanes, of course, did not know that, but he had observed fossils imprinted in stone and drawn the right conclusion (the matter was of some interest: there is a lost work by the Greek Theophrastus On Things Turned to Stone). So while the muddy parts turn to flesh, the solid parts of the rock become bones (409); and Ovid knows that rocks can be veined, or marbled, so these parts become veins (410 – Ovid has been inspecting the backs of his hands). Finally, Ovid reverts to tradition to account for male and female by the sex of the thrower (412–13; see Apollodorus below). Naturally, the metamorphoses happen very quickly, thanks to the gods (411) – obviously, no human eye could quite describe it – and the problem of repopulating the world is solved, with gods and men now working in harmony again (cf. the divine anger, 378).
Ovid ends with an aetiology (‘explanation of causes’: Greek aitia ‘cause’ + logos ‘account, explanation’) – men’s origin in rocks (415) is the cause of us being a ‘hard race’ (414). This idea is a poetic commonplace, occurring widely in Greek and Latin literature, e.g. Virgil’s Georgics 1.61–3: quō tempore prīmum / Deucaliōn uacuum lapidēs iactāuit in orbem / unde hominēs nātī, dūrum genus ‘from the time when Deucalion first threw stones over the empty world, from which men were born – a hard race’, and cf. Lucretius dē rērum nātūrā 5.925 and the Study section. The central point, however, is that Ovid is the only poet who attempts to explain how the transformation might actually have worked. Observe that aetiology of this sort can sometimes suggest that a metamorphosis has a ‘logic’ to it – physical, or emotional, or psychological (as if the metamorphosis somehow ‘fits’ or has appropriate consequences for the person or thing transformed). Finally, note that for Ovid, the origins of our race lie not with great heroes, but with a simple, pious and loving couple.
2 Cupid, Apollo and Daphne, Metamorphōsēs 1.452–567
Background
The earth is now repopulated with humans, and Ovid goes on to describe how spontaneous self-generation engendered other creatures, including monsters. This mise-en-scène, which is still Parnassus, leads Ovid to concentrate on one particular monster, the Python, a vast and hideous snake, swollen with poison, which sprawled over Parnassus and terrorised Delphi until Apollo killed it with his arrows. To celebrate his victory, Apollo established at Delphi the ‘Pythian’ Games, whose winners would at first be crowned with oak-leaves. This changes, however, when Apollo is hit by Cupid’s golden arrow and falls hopelessly for Daphne (‘laurel’).
Ovid is extremely skilful at connecting one myth with another. Here, the connection is forged by Apollo’s boasting about his skill with the bow in killing the Python and going on to demean Cupid and his bow. The angry Cupid decides to take revenge and demonstrate how much more powerful his bow is than Apollo’s.
1.452–62: Apollo mocks Cupid (who is playing with a bow) and boasts of his own killings
†prīmus amor Phoebī Daphnē Pēnēia, quem nōn
†fors ignāra dedit, sed saeua^ Cupīdinis ^īra.
†Dēlius^ hunc,* nūper uictō serpente ^superbus,
†uīderat adductō^ *flectentem cornua ^neruō,
455
†‘quid’ que ‘tibī, lascīue puer, cum fortibus armīs?’
dīxerat; ‘ista^ decent umerōs †^gestāmina nostrōs,
†quī dare certa^ ferae, dare ^uulnera possumus hostī,
quī modo †pestiferō^ tot iūgera ^uentre prementem*
strāuimus †innumerīs *tumidum *Pthōna sagittīs.
460
tū face^ nescioquōs* †estō contentus *amōrēs
†irrītāre ^tuā, nec laudēs adsere nostrās!’
1.463–73: Cupid shoots different arrows at Apollo and Daphne
fīlius^ †hc ^Veneris ‘fīgat tuus omnia, Phoebe,
tē meus arcus’ ait; †‘quantōque animālia^ cēdunt
†^cūncta deō, tantō minor est tua glōria nostrā.’
465
dīxit et, †ēlīsō^ percussīs ^āere pennīs,
†impiger umbrōsā^ Parnāsī cōnstitit ^arce,
†ēque sagittiferā^ prōmpsit duo tēla* ^pharetrā
†*dīuersōrum operum: fugat hoc, facit illud amōrem.
†quod facit, aurātum est et cuspide fulget acūtā;
470
quod fugat, †obtūsum est et habet sub harundine plumbum.
hoc deus in †nymphā Pēnēide fīxit, at illō
†laesit Apollineās^ trāiecta per ossa ^medullās.
1.474–89: Daphne’s beauty and desire to remain a virgin for ever
†prōtinus alter amat, fugit altera^ nōmen aman
tis,
siluārum †latebrīs captīuārumque ferārum
475
†exuuiīs ^gaudēns innūptaeque ^aemula Phoebēs;
†uitta coercēbat positōs sine lēge capillōs.
†multī illam petiēre; illa, āuersāta petentēs,
†impatiēns expersque uirī, nemora āuia lūstrat,
nec, †quid Hymen, quid Amor, quid sint cōnūbia cūrat.
480
†saepe pater dīxit: ‘generum mihi, fīlia, dēbēs,’
saepe pater dīxit: ‘dēbēs mihi, nāta, †nepōtēs.’
illa^, †uelut crīmen taedās ^exōsa iugālēs,
pulchra^ †uerēcundō suffūderat ^ōra rubōre,
†inque patris^ blandīs* haerēns ^ceruīce *lacertīs,
485
†‘dā mihi perpetuā^, genitor cārissime,’ dīxit
†‘^uirginitāte fruī! dedit hoc pater ante Diānae.’
ille quidem †obsequitur, sed tē decor iste quod optās
esse †uetat, uōtōque tuō tua fōrma repugnat.
1.490–503: Apollo is overwhelmed with desire; fire simile
†Phoebus amat, uīsaeque^ cupit cōnūbia ^Daphnēs,
490
†quodque cupit, spērat, suaque illum ōrācula fallunt.
†utque leuēs stipulae dēmptīs^ adolentur ^aristīs,
ut facibus †saepēs ardent, quās forte uiātor
uel †nimis admōuit, uel iam sub lūce relīquit,
sīc deus in flammās abiit, sīc †pectore tōtō
495
ūritur, et †sterilem^ spērandō nūtrit ^amōrem.
†spectat inōrnātōs^ collō pendēre ^capillōs,
et ‘quid, sī †cōmantur?’ ait. uidet igne micantēs^
sīderibus similēs ^oculōs; uidet ōscula, quae nōn
est uīdisse satis; laudat †digitōsque manūsque
500
†brācchiaque et nūdōs^ mediā plūs parte ^lacertōs;
sī †qua latent, meliōra putat. fugit ōcior aurā^
illa ^leuī, neque ad haec^ †reuocantis ^uerba resistit:
1.504–11: Apollo begs her to slow her flight
†‘nympha, precor, Pēnēi, manē! nōn īnsequor hostis;
nympha, manē! sīc †agna lupum, sīc cerua leōnem,
505
sīc †aquilam pennā^ fugiunt ^trepidante columbae,
hostēs^ †quaeque ^suōs: amor est mihi causa sequendī!
mē miserum! †nē prōna cadās, indignaue^ laedī
†^crūra notent sentēs, et sim tibi causa dolōris!
aspera, quā †properās, loca sunt; moderātius, ōrō,
510
†curre fugamque inhibē; moderātius īnsequar ipse.’
1.512–24: Apollo boasts of who he is
‘c placeās, †inquīre tamen. nōn incola montis,
nōn ego sum †pāstor, nōn hīc armenta gregēsque
†horridus obseruō. nescīs, temerāria, nescīs,
quem †fugiās, ideōque fugis: mihi Delphica tellūs
515
et †Claros et Tenedos Patarēaque rēgia seruit;
Iuppiter est †genitor; per mē, quod eritque fuitque
estque, †patet; per mē concordant carmina neruīs.
†certa quidem nostra^ est, nostrā tamen ^ūna ^sagitta
certior, in †uacuō* ^quae uulnera *pectore fēcit!
520
†inuentum medicīna meum est, opiferque per orbem
dīcor, et †herbārūm subiecta potentia nōbīs.
† mihi, quod nūllīs^ amor est sānābilis ^herbīs,
nec †prōsunt dominō, quae prōsunt omnibus, artēs!’
1.525–39: Daphne becomes more beautiful in flight; hunting simile
†plūra locūtūrum timidō Pēnēia cursū
525
fūgit, cumque ipsō uerba †imperfecta relīquit –
tum quoque uīsa †decēns. nūdābant corpora uentī,
†obuiaque^ aduersās uibrābant ^flāmina uestēs,
et leuis^ †impulsōs retrō dabat ^aura capillōs,
†auctaque fōrma fugā est. sed enim nōn sustinet ultrā
530
perdere †blanditiās iuuenis deus, utque monēbat
ipse amor, †admissō^ sequitur uestīgia ^passū.
†ut canis^ in uacuō leporem cum ^Gallicus aruō
uīdit, et †hīc praedam pedibus petit, ille salūtem;
alter, †inhaesūrō similis, iam iamque tenēre
535
spērat, et †extentō^ stringit uestīgia ^rōstrō,
alter †in ambiguō est, an sit comprēnsus, et ipsīs
†morsibus ēripitur tangentiaque ōra relinquit;
sīc deus et uirgō est: †hīc spē celer, illa timōre.
1.540–56: Daphne cries out for help and is transformed into a laurel
†quī tamen īnsequitur, pennīs^ adiūtus ^amōris,
540
†ōcior est, requiemque negat, tergōque fugācis
†imminet, et crīnem sparsum ceruīcibus adflat.
uīribus †absūmptīs expalluit illa, citaeque^
uicta labōre ^fugae, spectāns †Pēnēidas undās,
‘fer, pater,’ inquit ‘opem! sī flūmina nūmen habētis,
545
†quā nimium placuī, mūtandō perde figūram!’
[ ]
†uix prece fīnītā, torpor grauis occupat artūs;
†mollia^ cinguntur tenuī ^praecordia librō;
in †frondem crīnēs,in rāmōs brācchia crēscunt;
550
pēs modo tam †uēlōx pigrīs rādīcibus haeret;
ōra †cacūmen habet; remanet nitor ūnus in illā.
hanc quoque Phoebus amat, positāque^ in †stīpite ^dextrā,
sentit adhūc †trepidāre nouō sub cortice pectus,
†complexusque suīs^ rāmōs ut membra ^lacertīs,
555
ōscula dat †lignō; refugit tamen ōscula lignum.
1.557–67: Apollo vows to make the laurel his own tree
†c deus ‘at, quoniam coniunx mea nōn potes esse,
arbor eris certē’ dīxit ‘mea! semper habēbunt
tē †coma, tē citharae, tē nostrae, laure, pharetrae;
tū ducibus †Latiīs aderis, cum laeta^ Triumphum
560
^uōx canet et uīsent longās^ †Capitōlia ^pompās.
†postibus Augustīs eadem fīdissima custōs
ante †forēs stābis, mediamque tuēbere quercum.
utque meum intōnsīs^ caput est †iuuenāle ^capillīs,
tū quoque perpetuōs^ semper gere †frondis ^honōrēs!’
565
fīnierat †Paeān; factīs modo laurea rāmīs
†adnuit, utque caput uīsa est agitāsse cacūmen.
Learning vocabulary for Passage 2, Cupid, Apollo and Daphne
admoueō 2 admōuī admōtum move, bring
āēr āer-is 3m. air, atmosphere, sky
aru-um ī 2n. field
aur-a ae 1f. breeze, wind
bland-us a um coaxing, flattering, charming
brācchi-um ī 2n. arm, fore-arm
capill-us ī 2m. hair
cēdō 3 cess-ī cess-um yield to, step aside; go, withdraw, come to an end
cōnūbi-um ī 2n. marriage, right to marry
crīmen crīmin-is 3n. crime, scandal, offence
crīn-is is 3m. hair
cūnct-us a um all
currō 3 cucurrī cursum run
decor decōr-is 3m. beauty, grace, charm
Diān-a ae 1f. Diana, goddess of chastity and the hunt
digit-us ī 2m. finger
fallō 3 fefellī falsum cheat, deceive, fail
fer-a ae 1f. wild animal
fīgō 3 fīxī fīxum pierce, transfix
figūr-a ae 2f. beauty, shape
fors fort-is 3f. chance, luck, destiny (usually only in nom. or abl. forte, ‘by chance’)
gaudeō 2 semi-dep. gāuīsus find pleasure, rejoice, be happy
haereō 2 haesī haesum cling (to), be fixed to; doubt, hesitate
herb-a ae 1f. herb, plant, grass
hīc . . . ille the latter . . . the former
ignār-us a um ignorant, unaware
īnsequor 3 dep. īnsecūtus follow, pursue
