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第8章

O thou,that wakest on thy seven-string'd lyre Sweet notes,that from the rustic lifeless horn Enchant the ear with heavenly melody,Son of Latona,thee before this light Will I reprove.Thou camest to me,with gold Thy locks all glittering,as the vermeil flowers I gather'd in my vest to deck my bosom With the spring's glowing hues;in my white hand Thy hand enlocking,to the cavern'd rock Thou led'st me;naught avail'd my cries,that call'd My mother;on thou led'st me,wanton god,Immodestly,to Venus paying homage.

A son I bare thee,O my wretched fate!

Him (for I fear'd my mother)in thy cave I placed,where I unhappy was undone By thy unhappy love.Woe,woe is me!

And now my son and thine,ill-fated babe,Is rent by ravenous vultures;thou,meanwhile,Art to thy lyre attuning strains of joy.

Set of Latona,thee I call aloud Who from thy golden seat,thy central throne,Utterest thine oracle:my voice shall reach Thine ear:ungrateful lover,to my husband,No grace requiting,thou hast given a son To bless his house;my son and thine,unown'd,Perish'd a prey to birds;the robes that wrapp'd The infant's limbs,his mother's work,lost with him.

Delos abhors thee,and the laurel boughs With the soft foliage of the palm o'erhung,Grasping whose round trunk with her hands divine,Latona thee,her hallow'd offspring,bore.

LEADER

Ah,what a mighty treasury of ills Is open'd here,a copious source of tears!

TUTOR

Never,my daughter,can I sate my eyes With looking on thy face:astonishment Bears me beyond my senses.I had stemm'd One tide of evils,when another flood High-surging overwhelm'd me from the words Which thou hast utter'd,from the present ills To an ill train of other woes transferr'd.

What say'st thou?Of what charge dost thou implead The god?What son hast thou brought forth?Where placed him A feast for vultures?Tell me all again.

CREUSA

Though I must blush,old man,yet I will speak.

TUTOR

I mourn with generous grief at a friend's woes.

CREUSA

Hear then:the northward-pointing cave thou knowest,And the Cecropian rocks,which we call Macrai.

TUTOR

Where stands a shrine to Pan,and altars nigh.

CREUSA

There in a dreadful conflict I engaged.

TUTOR

What!my tears rise ready to meet thy words.

CREUSA

By Phoebus drawn reluctant to his bed.

TUTOR

Was this,my daughter,such as I suppose?

CREUSA

I know not:but if truth,I will confess it.

TUTOR

Didst thou in silence mourn this secret ill?

CREUSA

This was the grief I now disclose to thee.

TUTOR

This love of Phoebus how didst thou conceal?

CREUSA

I bore a son.Hear me,old man,with patience.

TUTOR

Where?who assisted?or wast thou alone?

CREUSA

Alone,in the same cave where compress'd.

TUTOR

Where is thy son,that childless now no more CREUSADead,good old man,to beasts of prey exposed.

TUTOR

Dead!and the ungrateful Phoebus gives no aid?

CREUSA

None:in the house of Pluto a young guest.

TUTOR

Whose hands exposed him?Surely not thine own.

CREUSA

Mine,in the shades of night,wrapp'd in his vests.

TUTOR

Hadst thou none with thee conscious to this deed?

CREUSA

My misery,and the secret place alone.

TUTOR

How durst thou in a cavern leave thy son?

CREUSA

How?uttering many sad and plaintive words.

TUTOR

Ah,cruel was thy deed,the god more cruel.

CREUSA

Hadst thou but seen him stretch his little hands!

TUTOR

Seeking the breast,or reaching to thine arms?

CREUSA

To this,deprived of which he suffer'd wrong.

TUTOR

And what induced thee to expose thy child?

CREUSA

Hope that the god's kind care would save his son.

TUTOR

How are the glories of thy house destroy'd!

CREUSA

Why,thine head cover'd,dost thou pour these tears?

TUTOR

To see thee and thy father thus unhappy.

CREUSA

This is the state of man:nothing stands firm.

TUTOR

No longer then,my child,let grief oppress us.

CREUSA

What should I do?In misery all is doubt.

TUTOR

First on the god that wrong'd thee be avenged.

CREUSA

How shall a mortal 'gainst a god prevail?

TUTOR

Set this revered oracular shrine on fire.

CREUSA

I fear:ev'n now I have enough of ills.

TUTOR

Attempt what may be done then;kill thy husband.

CREUSA

The nuptial bed I reverence,and his goodness.

TUTOR

This son then,which is now brought forth against thee.

CREUSA

How?Could that be,how warmly should I wish it.

TUTOR

Thy train hath swords:instruct them to the deed.

CREUSA

I go with speed:but where shall it be done?

TUTOR

In the hallow'd tent,where now he feasts his friends.

CREUSA

An open murder,and with coward slaves!

TUTOR

If mine displease,propose thou some design.

CREUSA

I have it,close and easy to achieve.

TUTOR

In both my faithful services are thine.

CREUSA

Hear then:not strange to thee the giants'war.

TUTOR

When they in Phlegra fought against the gods.

CREUSA

There the earth brought forth the Gorgon,horrid monster.

TUTOR

In succour of her sons to annoy the gods?

CREUSA

Ev'n so:her Pallas slew,daughter of Jove.

TUTOR

What fierce and dreadful form did she then wear?

CREUSA

Her breastplate arm'd with vipers wreathed around.

TUTOR

A well-known story;often have I heard it.

CREUSA

Her spoils before her breast Minerva wore.

TUTOR

The aegis;so they call the vest of Pallas.

CREUSA

So named,when in the war she join'd the gods.

TUTOR

But how can this,my child,annoy thy foes?

CREUSA

Thou canst not but remember Erichthonius.

TUTOR

Whom first of thy high race the earth brought forth.

CREUSA

To him while yet an infant Pallas gave-

TUTOR

What?Thy slow preface raises expectation.

CREUSA

Two drops of blood that from the Gorgon fell.

TUTOR

And on the human frame what power have these?

CREUSA

The one works death,the other heals disease.

TUTOR

In what around the infant's body hung?

CREUSA

Enclosed in gold:he gave them to my father.

TUTOR

At his decease then they devolved to thee?

CREUSA

Ay,and I wear it as a bracelet;look.

TUTOR

Their double qualities how temper'd,say.

CREUSA

This drop,which from her hollow vein distill'd,-TUTOR

To what effect applied?What is its power?

CREUSA

Medicinal,of sovereign use to life.

TUTOR

The other drop,what faculties hath that?

CREUSA

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