Works of Nonnus

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by Nonnus


  δεξιὸν ἐκ λαιοῖο μετήλυδα ταρσὸν ἑλίσσων:

  140 καὶ Στάφυλος σκίρτησε ποδῶν βητάρμονι παλμῷ,

  καμπύλον ἴχνος ἄγων τροχαλῷ κυκλούμενον ὁλκῷ,

  βότρυος ὀρχηστῆρος ἐπ᾽ αὐχένι πῆχυν ἐρείσας:

  καὶ ποτὸν εὐφήμησε χοροπλεκέος Διονύσου

  ἄστατος, ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα καθειμένα βόστρυχα σείων

  145 ὤμῳ ἐπαΐσσοντα: μέθη δ᾽ ἐχόρευε καὶ αὐτή.

  πῆχυν ἐπικλίνουσα καὶ υἱέι καί παρακοίτῃ.

  μεσσατίη Σταφύλου καὶ Βότρυος: ἧ δὲ νοῆσαι

  τερπωλὴν τριέλικτον ὁμοπλέκτοιο χορείης.

  καὶ Πίθος ὠμογέρων, πολιὴν ἀνέμοισι τινάσσων,

  150 χεύματος ἡδυπότοιο βεβυσμένος ἄχρις ὀδόντων

  οἰνοβαρὴς ἐχόρευε, μεθυσφαλὲς ἴχνος ἑλίσσων:

  καὶ γλυκεραῖς λιβάδεσσιν ἐρευγομένων ἀπὸ λαιμῶν

  ξανθὴν ἀφριόωσαν ἑὴν λεύκαινεν ὑπήνην.

  [124] Methe also, the wife of King Staphylos, mother of a noble son, was made drunken by the winedew of Bacchos. With heavy head she begged the Bacchants for more drink, dancing round the full mixingbowl of Lyaios. She rolled her head moving this way and that way, shook the hair over her shoulders unsteadily, dipping her head first here, then there, on one side and the other again and again, ever on the point of falling on her slippery feet, until a Bacchant’s hands caught the wild creature and held her up. Staphylos too was drunk; the cheeks of drunken Botrys were red from his tippling cup; still a boy with the down on his face, he with Staphylos his father bound his loosened locks with the unfamiliar ivy and wreathed it like a garland. Then interchanging step with step Botrys danced about with ready feet, changing feet right after left; and Staphylos went skipping in dancing movement, carrying his feet round and round in a running step, with one arm thrown round the neck of dancing Botrys. Staggering he blest the potion of danceweaving Dionysos, and shook his long hair falling over his shoulder from side to side. Methe was dancing too, with an arm round son and husband both, between Staphylos and Botrys. There was a sight to see, the triple-entwined delight of a close-embracing dance! And Pithos, hale old man, shaking his hoary locks in the wind, stuffed to the teeth with the delicious potation, danced heavy with wine, and twirled a drink-tottering foot; he whitened his yellow beard with foam from the sweet libations that ran out from his throat.

  καὶ πίον εἰς ὅλον ἦμαρ: ἀφυσσομένων δὲ κυπέλλων

  155 ἑσπερίην χθόνα πᾶσαν ὑπόσκιος ἔσκεπεν ὄρφνη

  ἀκροκελαινιόωσα, καὶ αἰόλα φέγγεϊ λεπτῷ

  ἄστρα καταυγάζων ἐμελαίνετο δίχροος ἀήρ,

  δυομένου Φαέθοντος ὑπὸ σκιοειδέι κώνῳ,

  βαιὸν ὀπισθοκέλευθον ἔχων ἔτι λείψανον Ἠοῦς:

  160 καὶ ζόφον ἐχλαίνωσεν ἑῷ χροῒ σιγαλέη νὺξ

  οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντι διαγράψασα χιτῶνι.

  οἱ δὲ μετὰ κρητῆρα μέθης, μετὰ δεῖπνα τραπέζης

  βότρυς ὁμοῦ γενετῆρι καὶ οἰνοχύτῳ Διονύσῳ

  κεκριμένοι στοιχηδὸν ἐυστρώτων ἐπὶ λέκτρων

  165 ὕπνου δῶρον ἕλοντο καὶ ὡμίλησαν ὀνείροις.

  [154] So they drank the whole day long. Cups were still being filled when shadowy darkness grew black at the fringe, and covered all the western lands, when the twilight air darkened and ht up the spangled stars with faint light, when Phaëthon set under the cone of shadow ° and left on his way behind a small trace yet of the day, when silent Night shrouded the west in her own colour, and scored the sky across with her own starry cloak. Then after the tipsy bowl and after the feast of the table, Botrys together with his father, and Dionysos dispenser of wine, went off in a line, each to his separate wellstrown bed; they took the boon of sleep, and had traffic with dreams.

  ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δὴ ῥοδέοις ἀμαρύγμασιν ἅγγελος Ἠοῦς

  ἀκροφαὴς ἐχάραξε λιπόσκιον ὄρθρος ὀμίχλην,

  εὐχαίτης τότε Βάκχος ἑώιος ἄνθορεν εὐνῆς,

  ἐλπίδι νικαίῃ δεδονημένος: ἐννύχιος γὰρ

  170 Ἰνδῴην ἐδάιζε γονὴν κισσώδεϊ θύρσῳ,

  ὑπναλέης μεθέπων ἀπατήλιον εἰκόνα χάρμης.

  καὶ κτύπον εἰσαΐων Σατύρων καὶ δοῦπον ἀκόντων

  φλοῖσβον ὀνειρείης ἀπεσείσατο δηιοτῆτος,

  ὕπνον ἀποσκεδάσας πολεμήιον: εἶχε δὲ θυμῷ

  175 μαντιπόλου φόβον αἰνὸν ἀπειλητῆρος ὀνείρου:

  μιμηλῆς γὰρ ὄπωπε μάχης ἴνδαλμα Λυκούργου

  ἐσσομένων προκέλευθον, ὅτι θρασὺς ἔνδοθι λόχμης

  δύσμαχος ἐκ σκοπέλοιο λέων λυσσώδεϊ λαιμῷ

  Βάκχον ἔτι σκαίροντα καὶ οὐ ψαύοντα σιδήρου

  180 εἰς φόβον ἐπτοίησε, καὶ ἤλασεν ἄχρι θαλάσσης

  κρυπτόμενον πελάγεσσι, πεφυζότα θηρὸς ἀπειλήν:

  καὶ φόβον ἄλλον ὄπωπε, λέων θρασὺς ὅττι γυναῖκας

  θυρσοφόρους ἐδίωκε, κεχηνότος ἀνθερεῶνος,

  αἱμάσσων ὀνύχεσσι, χαρασσομένων δὲ γυναικῶν

  185 μύστιδος ὲκ παλάμης ἐκυλίνδετο θύσθλα κονίῃ,

  κύμβαλα δ᾽ ὲν χθονὶ κεῖτο: μεταστρεφθεῖσα δὲ Βάκχη

  δεσμὰ λεοντείοισιν ἐπεσφήκωσε γενείοις

  σειρὴν ἀμπελόεσσαν ἐπισφίγξασα καρήνῳ,

  ἀγχονίῳ δὲ λέοντος ἐπέπλεκεν αὐχένα δεσμῷ:

  190 θηρὶ δὲ θῆλυς ὅμιλος ἐπέδραμεν ἄλλος ἐπ᾽ ἄλλῳ,

  καὶ βλοσυροὺς ἐχάραξε πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ἀκάνθαις:

  καὶ μόγις εἱλικόεντι περιζωσθέντα κορύμβῳ

  Ἄρτεμις ἐζώγρησεν: ἀπ᾽ αἰθερίοιο δὲ κόλπου

  ἀστεροπὴ πυρόεσσα καταΐξασα προσώπου

  195 θῆρα παλινδίνητον ἐθήκατο τυφλὸν ὁδίτην.

  [166] But when the morning twilight, shining messenger of Dawn, cut through the edge of fading mist with rosy sparkles, then long-haired Bacchos leapt up early from his bed, shaken by the hope of victory. For in the night he had destroyed the Indian race with his ivytwined thyrsus, busy in the illusive image of a dream-battle. The noise of Satyrs and the rattle of javelins falling on his ears, shook off the din of his dreamland warfare and scattered that warlike sleep. But dreadful fear was in his heart that the dream foreboded some threatening danger. For in this unreal spectacle he had seen an image of his battle with Lycurgos, prophetic of things to come. In a forest, a bold formidable lion leapt from a rock with deathly
jaws upon Bacchos, while he was dancing and still without weapons, and scared him to flight, driving him down to the sea where he hid under water, fleeing from the dangerous beast. He saw another terror besides — how the bold lion chased the thyrsus-bearing women with gaping throat and gored them with his claws; as the women were torn, their gear fell from their mystic hands and rolled in the dust, their cymbals lay on the ground. Then a Bacchant turned, and muzzled the lion’s jaws by tying a string of vineleaves over his head, and wreathed his neck lightly in a noose. Then crowds of women ran up to the beast one upon another, and scratched with brambles the ugly pads and paws. At last Artemis saved him alive with difficulty, entangled in the clustering meshes; and from the bosom of the sky a flash of lightning shot into the beast’s face, and made him a blind vagabond of the roads.

  τοῖον ὄναρ Διόνυσος ἐσέδρακεν: ἐκ λεχέων δὲ

  ὀρθὸς ἐὼν ἔνδυνε φόνῳ πεπαλαγμένον Ἰνδῶν

  χάλκεον ἀστερόεντα κατὰ στέρνοιο χιτῶνα,

  καὶ σκολιῷ μίτρωσε κόμην ὀφιώδεϊ δεσμῷ,

  200 καὶ πόδας ἐσφήκωσεν ἐρευθιόωντι κοθόρνῳ,

  χειρὶ δὲ θύρσον ἄειρε, φιλάνθεμον ἔγχος Ἐνυοῦς:

  καὶ Σάτυρον κίκλησκεν ὀπάονα. θεσπεσίην δὲ

  Βακχείων στομάτων ἀίων ἀντίκτυπον ἠχὼ

  κοίρανος ἔγρετο Βότρυς, ἑὸν δ᾽ ἔνδυνε χιτῶνα:

  205 καὶ Πίον ὑπνώοντα ... μέθη δ᾽ ὡς ἔκλυε φωνῆς,

  κρᾶτα μόγις κούφιζε, βαρυνομένου δὲ καρήνου

  ὀκναλέη πάλιν εὗδε: καὶ ὄρθριον εἰσέτι νύμφη

  μίμνεν ἀμεργομένη γλυκερώτερον ὕπνον ὀπωπαῖς,

  ὀψὲ λέκτρον ἔλειπεν ἑῷ βραδυπειθέι ταρσῷ.

  [196] Such was the dream Dionysos had seen. Rising from his bed, he donned about his chest the star-spangled corselet of bronze stained with Indian blood, and entwined his hair with a circlet of writhing snakes, and wedged his feet in the reddened boots, took thyrsus in hand — that flowery spear of Enyo — and called a servant Satyr. Prince Botrys, hearing the echoing call from the divine lips of Bacchos hard by, roused himself, put on his own dress, and called to sleeping Pithos. When Methe heard the voice, she reluctantly lifted her heavy head, and letting it fall lazily, went to sleep again; all through the morning the queen still remained with her eyes gathering the most sweet bloom of sleep. At last she left her bed with slow unwilling foot.

  210 καὶ Στάφυλος φιλόβοτρυς ἐφωμάρτησε Λυαίῳ

  εἰς ὁδὸν ἐσσυμένῳ ξεινήια δῶρα τιταίνων,

  χρύσεον ἀμφιφορῆα σὺν ἀργυρέοισι κυπέλλοις,

  οἷς πάρος αἰὲν ἔπινεν ἀμελγομένων γλάγος αἰγῶν:

  καὶ πόρε ποικίλα πέπλα, τά περ παρὰ Τίγριδος ὕδωρ

  215 νήματι λεπταλέῳ τεχνήσατο Περσὶς Ἀράχνη.

  καὶ Βρομίῳ πολύδωρος ἅναξ ἐφθέγξατο φωνήν:

  [210] Staphylos the grapelover attended upon Lyaios, offering him the guest’s gifts as he was hasting for his journey: a two-handled jar of gold with silver cups, from which hitherto he used always to quaff the milk of milch-goats; and he brought embroidered robes, which Persian Arachne beside the waters of Tigris had cleverly made with her fine thread. Then the generous king spoke to Bromios:

  ‘μάρναό μοι, Διόνυσε, καὶ ἄξια ῥέζε τοκῆος:

  δεῖξον, ὅτι Κρονίδαο φέρεις γένος: ἀρτιθαλὴς γὰρ

  γηγενέας Τιτῆνας ἀπεστυφέλιξεν Ὀλύμπου

  220 σὸς γενέτης ἔτι κοῦρος: ἐπείγεο καὶ σὺ κυδοιμῷ

  γηγενέων ὑπέροπλον ἀιστῶσαι γένος Ἰνδῶν.

  μέμνημαί τινα μῦθον, ὃν ἡμετέρῳ γενετῆρι

  Ἀσσύριός ποτε Βῆλος, ἐμῆς πολιοῦχος ἀρούρης,

  [217] “Fight away, Dionysos, and do deeds worthy of your sire! Show that you have the blood of Cronides in you! For your father in his first youth battered the earthborn Titans out of Olympos, when he was only a boy: on then and do your part in the struggle, destroy the overweening nation of earthborn Indians! I remember a tale which once my father heard from his father, Assyrian Belos the sovereign of my country; this I will tell to you.

  πατροπάτωρ ἐμὸς εἶπεν, ἐγὼ δέ σοι αὐτὸς ἐνίψω:

  κουφίζων Κρόνος ὑγρὸς ἀμερσιγάμου γένυν ἅρπης,

  225 ὁππότε μητρῴῃσιν ἐπεσσυμένοιο χαμεύναις

  τάμνεν ἀνυμφεύτων στάχυν ἄρσενα πατρὸς ἀρότρων.

  Τιτήνων προκέλευθος, ἐμάρνατο σεῖο τοκῆι,

  καὶ Κρόνος εὐρυγένειος ἀνερρίπιζεν Ἐνυὼ

  230 ἔγχεα παχνήεντα κατὰ Κρονίωνος ἰάλλων,

  ψυχρὸν ἀκοντίζων διερὸν βέλος: ὀξυτενεῖς δὲ

  ἠερόθεν πέμποντο χαλαζήεντες ὀιστοί.

  καὶ πλέον Ἠελίοιο κορύσσετο πυρσοφόρος Ζεὺς

  θερμοτέρῳ σπινθῆρι λύων πετρούμενον ὕδωρ

  235 ὠμοβόρους δὲ λέοντας ἐπὶ κλόνον Ἰνδὸν ἱμάσσων,

  μὴ τρομέοις ἐλέφαντας, ἐπεὶ τεὸς ὑψιμέδων Ζεὺς

  Κάμπην ὑψικάρηνον ἀπηλοίησε κεραυνῷ,

  [223] “Cronos still dripping held the emasculating sickleblade, after he had cut off the manly crop of his father’s plow and robbed him of the Mother’s bed to which he was hastening, and warred against your sire at the head of the Titans. Broadbeard Cronos fanned the flame of Enyo as he cast icy spears against Cronion, shooting his cold watery shafts: sharp pointed arrows of hail were shot from the sky. But Zeus armed himself with more fires than Helios, and melted the petrified water with hotter sparks. Whip up now ravening lions to the Indian War; fear not their elephants! For your Zeus ruling in the heights destroyed highheaded Campe with a thunderbolt, for all the many crooked shapes of her whole body.

  ἧς σκολιὸν πολύμορφον ὅλον δέμας: ἀλλοφυῆ γὰρ

  λοξὴν αὐτοέλικτον ἀνερρίπιζον Ἐνυὼ

  240 χίλιοι ἑρπηστῆρες ἐχιδναίων ἀπὸ ταρσῶν

  ἰὸν ἐρευγομένων δολιχόσκιον: ἀμφὶ δὲ δειρὴν

  ἤνθεε πεντήκοντα καρήατα ποικίλα θηρῶν:

  καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐβρυχᾶτο λεοντείοισι καρήνοις

  Σφιγγὸς ἀσημάντοιο τύπῳ βλοσυροῖο προσώπου,

  245 ἄλλα δὲ καπρείων ἀνεκήκιεν ἀφρὸν ὀδόντων,

  συμφερτῇ δὲ φάλαγγι πολυσκυλάκων κεφαλάων

  Σκύλλης ἰσοτέλεστον ἔην μίμημα προσώπου:

  καὶ χροῒ μεσσατίῳ διφυὴς ἀνεφαίνετο νύμφη

  ἰοβόλοις κομόωσα δρακοντείοισι κορύμβοις:

  250 τῆς μὲν ἐπὶ στέρνοισιν ἐς ἀκροτάτην πτύχα μηρῶν<
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  κητείαις φολίδεσσι νόθη τρηχύνετο μορφὴ

  ὑψιτενής: ὄνυχες δὲ πολυσπερέων παλαμάων

  λοξὸν ἐδοχμώσαντο τύπον γαμψώνυχος ἅρπης:

  ἐξ ὑπάτου δὲ τένοντος ἀμαιμακέτων διὰ νώτων

  255 σκορπίος αὐτοέλικτος ἐπήορος αὐχένος οὐρῇ

  εἷρπε χαλαζήεντι τεθηγμένος ὀξέι κέντρῳ.

  [238] “A thousand crawlers from her viperish feet, spitting poison afar, were fanning Enyo to a flame, a mass of misshapen coils. Round her neck flowered fifty various heads of wild beasts: some roared with lion’s heads like the grim face of the riddling Sphinx; others were spluttering foam from the tusks of wild boars; her countenance was the very image of Scylla with a marshalled regiment of thronging dogs’ heads. Doubleshaped, she appeared a woman to the middle of her body, with clusters of poison-spitting serpents for hair. Her giant form, from the chest to the parting-point of the thighs, was covered all over with a bastard shape of hard sea-monsters’ scales. The claws of her wide-scattered hands were curved like a crooktalon sickle. From her neck over her terrible shoulders, with tail raised high over her throat, a scorpion with an icy sting sharp-whetted crawled and coiled upon itself.

  τοίη ποικιλόμορφος ἕλιξ κουφίζετο Κάμπη,

  καὶ χθόνα δινεύουσα καὶ ἠέρα καὶ βυθὸν ἅλμης

  ἵπτατο κυανέων πτερύγων ἑτερόζυγι παλμῷ,

  260 λαίλαπας αἰθύσσουσα καὶ ὁπλίζουσα θυέλλας,

  νύμφη Ταρταρίη μελανόπτερος: ἐκ βλεφάρων δὲ

  τηλεπόρους σπινθῆρας ἀνήρυγε φοιταλέη φλόξ.

  ἀλλὰ τόσην κτάνε θῆρα πατὴρ τεὸς αἰθέριος Ζεύς,

  καὶ Κρονίην νίκησεν ἐχιδνήεσσαν Ἐνυώ.

  265 γίνεο καὶ σὺ τοκῆι πανείκελος, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸν

 

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