To rove at large o'er earth's extremest bounds:
Shou'd he refuse, the vengeful bolt of Jove,
Wing'd with red flames wou'd all his race destroy.
Obedient to the Pythian god he drove me
Unwilling from his house, himself unwilling
Compell'd by Jove, and harsh necessity.
Strait was my sense disorder'd, my fair form
Chang'd, as you see, disfigur'd with these horns;
And tortar'd with the bryze's horrid sting,
Wild with my pain with frantic speed I hurried
To Cenchrea's vale with silver-winding streams[1]
Irriguous, and the fount whence Lerna spreads
Its wide expanse of waters; close behind
In wrathful mood walk'd Argus, earth-born herdman,
With all his eyes observant of my steps.
Him unawares a sudden fate depriv'd
Of life; whilst I, stung with that heav'n-sent pest,
Am driv'n with devious speed from land to land.
Thou hast my tale. If ought of woes to come
Thy prescient mind divines, relate them freely;
Nor thro' false pity with fallacious words
Sooth my vain hopes, my soul abhors as base
The fabling tongue of glozing courtesy.
CHOR. No more, no more, forbear. Ah never, never
Conceiv'd I that a tale so strange shou'd reach
My ears; that miseries, woes, distresses, terrors,
Dreadful to sight, intolerable to sense,
Shou'd shock me thus: woe, woe, unhappy fate!
How my soul shudders at the fate of Iö!
- ↑ The translator hath here adopted the very judicious reading of Pauw with regard to Cenchrea; but notwithstanding his aliud melius et facilius tihi dabo, prefers the Αεςυη; τε χςηυην of Canterus to his Αεςυη or Αεςυη.
