Pygmalion saw so much to blame in women that he came at last to abhor2 the sex, and resolved to live unmarried. He was a sculptor3, and had made with wonderful skill a statue of ivory, so beautiful that no living woman came anywhere near it. It was indeed the perfect semblance4 of a maiden5 that seemed to be alive, and only prevented from moving by modesty6. His art was so perfect that it concealed7 itself and its product looked like the workmanship of nature. Pygmalion admired his own work, and at last fell in love with the counterfeit8 creation. Oftentimes he laid his hand upon it as if to assure himself whether it were living or not, and could not even then believe that it was only ivory. He caressed9 it, and gave it presents such as young girls love,—bright shells and polished stones, little birds and flowers of various hues11, beads12 and amber13. He put raiment on its limbs, and jewels on its fingers, and a necklace about its neck. To the ears he hung earrings14 and strings15 of pearls upon the breast. Her dress became her, and she looked not less charming than when unattired. He laid her on a couch spread with cloths of Tyrian dye, and called her his wife, and put her head upon a pillow of the softest feathers, as if she could enjoy their softness.
The festival of Venus was at hand—a festival celebrated16 with great pomp at Cyprus. Victims were offered, the altars smoked, and the odor of incense17 filled the air. When Pygmalion had performed his part in the solemnities, he stood before the altar and timidly said, “Ye gods, who can do all things, give me, I pray you, for my wife”—he dared not say “my ivory virgin18,” but said instead—“one like my ivory virgin.” Venus, who was present at the festival, heard him and knew the thought he would have uttered; and as an omen1 of her favor, caused the flame on the altar to shoot up thrice in a fiery19 point into the air. When he returned home, he went to see his statue, and leaning over the couch, gave a kiss to the mouth. It seemed to be warm. He pressed its lips again, he laid his hand upon the limbs; the ivory felt soft to his touch and yielded to his fingers like the wax of Hymettus. While he stands astonished and glad, though doubting, and fears he may be mistaken, again and again with a lover’s ardor20 he touches the object of his hopes. It was indeed alive! The veins21 when pressed yielded to the finger and again resumed their roundness. Then at last the votary22 of Venus found words to thank the goddess, and pressed his lips upon lips as real as his own. The virgin felt the kisses and blushed, and opening her timid eyes to the light, fixed23 them at the same moment on her lover. Venus blessed the nuptials24 she had formed, and from this union Paphos was born, from whom the city, sacred to Venus, received its name.
Schiller, in his poem the “Ideals,” applies this tale of Pygmalion to the love of nature in a youthful heart. The following translation is furnished by a friend:
“As once with prayers in passion flowing,
Pygmalion embraced the stone,
Till from the frozen marble glowing,
The light of feeling o’er him shone,
So did I clasp with young devotion
Bright nature to a poet’s heart;
Till breath and warmth and vital motion
Seemed through the statue form to dart25.
“And then, in all my ardor sharing,
The silent form expression found;
Returned my kiss of youthful daring,
And understood my heart’s quick sound.
Then lived for me the bright creation,
The silver rill with song was rife26;
The trees, the roses shared sensation,
An echo of my boundless27 life.”
—S. G. B.
DRYOPE
Dryope and Iole were sisters. The former was the wife of Andr?mon, beloved by her husband, and happy in the birth of her first child. One day the sisters strolled to the bank of a stream that sloped gradually down to the water’s edge, while the upland was overgrown with myrtles. They were intending to gather flowers for forming garlands for the altars of the nymphs, and Dryope carried her child at her bosom28, precious burden, and nursed him as she walked. Near the water grew a lotus plant, full of purple flowers. Dryope gathered some and offered them to the baby, and Iole was about to do the same, when she perceived blood dropping from the places where her sister had broken them off the stem. The plant was no other than the nymph Lotis, who, running from a base pursuer, had been changed into this form. This they learned from the country people when it was too late.
Dryope, horror-struck when she perceived what she had done, would gladly have hastened from the spot, but found her feet rooted to the ground. She tried to pull them away, but moved nothing but her upper limbs. The woodiness crept upward, and by degrees invested her body. In anguish29 she attempted to tear her hair, but found her hands filled with leaves. The infant felt his mother’s bosom begin to harden, and the milk cease to flow. Iole looked on at the sad fate of her sister, and could render no assistance. She embraced the growing trunk, as if she would hold back the advancing wood, and would gladly have been enveloped30 in the same bark. At this moment Andr?mon, the husband of Dryope, with her father, approached; and when they asked for Dryope, Iole pointed31 them to the new-formed lotus. They embraced the trunk of the yet warm tree, and showered their kisses on its leaves.
Now there was nothing left of Dryope but her face. Her tears still flowed and fell on her leaves, and while she could she spoke32. “I am not guilty. I deserve not this fate. I have injured no one. If I speak falsely, may my foliage33 perish with drought and my trunk be cut down and burned. Take this infant and give it to a nurse. Let it often be brought and nursed under my branches, and play in my shade; and when he is old enough to talk, let him be taught to call me mother, and to say with sadness, ‘My mother lies hid under this bark.’ But bid him be careful of river banks, and beware how he plucks flowers, remembering that every bush he sees may be a goddess in disguise. Farewell, dear husband, and sister, and father. If you retain any love for me, let not the axe34 wound me, nor the flocks bite and tear my branches. Since I cannot stoop to you, climb up hither and kiss me; and while my lips continue to feel, lift up my child that I may kiss him. I can speak no more, for already the bark advances up my neck, and will soon shoot over me. You need not close my eyes, the bark will close them without your aid.” Then the lips ceased to move, and life was extinct; but the branches retained for some time longer the vital heat.
Keats, in “Endymion,” alludes35 to Dryope thus:
“She took a lute36 from which there pulsing came
A lively prelude37, fashioning the way
In which her voice should wander. ’Twas a lay
More subtle-cadenced, more forest-wild
Than Dryope’s lone38 lulling39 of her child;” etc.
VENUS AND ADONIS
Venus, playing one day with her boy Cupid, wounded her bosom with one of his arrows. She pushed him away, but the wound was deeper than she thought. Before it healed she beheld40 Adonis, and was captivated with him. She no longer took any interest in her favorite resorts—Paphos, and Cnidos, and Amathos, rich in metals. She absented herself even from heaven, for Adonis was dearer to her than heaven. Him she followed and bore him company. She who used to love to recline in the shade, with no care but to cultivate her charms, now rambles41 through the woods and over the hills, dressed like the huntress Diana; and calls her dogs, and chases hares and stags, or other game that it is safe to hunt, but keeps clear of the wolves and bears, reeking42 with the slaughter43 of the herd44. She charged Adonis, too, to beware of such dangerous animals. “Be brave towards the timid,” said she; “courage against the courageous45 is not safe. Beware how you expose yourself to danger and put my happiness to risk. Attack not the beasts that Nature has armed with weapons. I do not value your glory so high as to consent to purchase it by such exposure. Your youth, and the beauty that charms Venus, will not touch the hearts of lions and bristly boars. Think of their terrible claws and prodigious46 strength! I hate the whole race of them. Do you ask me why?” Then she told him the story of Atalanta and Hippomenes, who were changed into lions for their ingratitude47 to her.
Having given him this warning, she mounted her chariot drawn48 by swans, and drove away through the air. But Adonis was too noble to heed49 such counsels. The dogs had roused a wild boar from his lair50, and the youth threw his spear and wounded the animal with a sidelong stroke. The beast drew out the weapon with his jaws51, and rushed after Adonis, who turned and ran; but the boar overtook him, and buried his tusks52 in his side, and stretched him dying upon the plain.
Venus, in her swan-drawn chariot, had not yet reached Cyprus, when she heard coming up through mid-air the groans53 of her beloved, and turned her white-winged coursers back to earth. As she drew near and saw from on high his lifeless body bathed in blood, she alighted and, bending over it, beat her breast and tore her hair. Reproaching the Fates, she said, “Yet theirs shall be but a partial triumph; memorials of my grief shall endure, and the spectacle of your death, my Adonis, and of my lamentations shall be annually54 renewed. Your blood shall be changed into a flower; that consolation55 none can envy me.” Thus speaking, she sprinkled nectar on the blood; and as they mingled56, bubbles rose as in a pool on which raindrops fall, and in an hour’s time there sprang up a flower of bloody57 hue10 like that of the pomegranate. But it is short-lived. It is said the wind blows the blossoms open, and afterwards blows the petals58 away; so it is called Anemone59, or Wind Flower, from the cause which assists equally in its production and its decay.
Milton alludes to the story of Venus and Adonis in his “Comus”:
“Beds of hyacinth and roses
Where young Adonis oft reposes60,
Waxing well of his deep wound
In slumber61 soft, and on the ground
Sadly sits th’ Assyrian queen;” etc.
APOLLO AND HYACINTHUS
Apollo was passionately62 fond of a youth named Hyacinthus. He accompanied him in his sports, carried the nets when he went fishing, led the dogs when he went to hunt, followed him in his excursions in the mountains, and neglected for him his lyre and his arrows. One day they played a game of quoits together, and Apollo, heaving aloft the discus, with strength mingled with skill, sent it high and far. Hyacinthus watched it as it flew, and excited with the sport ran forward to seize it, eager to make his throw, when the quoit bounded from the earth and struck him in the forehead. He fainted and fell. The god, as pale as himself, raised him and tried all his art to stanch63 the wound and retain the flitting life, but all in vain; the hurt was past the power of medicine. As when one has broken the stem of a lily in the garden it hangs its head and turns its flowers to the earth, so the head of the dying boy, as if too heavy for his neck, fell over on his shoulder. “Thou diest, Hyacinth,” so spoke Ph?bus, “robbed of thy youth by me. Thine is the suffering, mine the crime. Would that I could die for thee! But since that may not be, thou shalt live with me in memory and in song. My lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed64 with my regrets.” While Apollo spoke, behold65 the blood which had flowed on the ground and stained the herbage ceased to be blood; but a flower of hue more beautiful than the Tyrian sprang up, resembling the lily, if it were not that this is purple and that silvery white.[12] And this was not enough for Ph?bus; but to confer still greater honor, he marked the petals with his sorrow, and inscribed “Ah! ah!” upon them as we see to this day. The flower bears the name of Hyacinthus, and with every returning spring revives the memory of his fate.
It was said that Zephyrus (the West wind), who was also fond of Hyacinthus and jealous of his preference of Apollo, blew the quoit out of its course to make it strike Hyacinthus. Keats alludes to this in his “Endymion,” where he describes the lookers-on at the game of quoits:
“Or they might watch the quoit-pitchers, intent
On either side, pitying the sad death
Of Hyacinthus, when the cruel breath
Of Zephyr66 slew67 him; Zephyr penitent68,
Who now ere Ph?bus mounts the firmament69,
Fondles the flower amid the sobbing70 rain.”
An allusion71 to Hyacinthus will also be recognized in Milton’s “Lycidas”:
“Like to that sanguine72 flower inscribed with woe73.”
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1
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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7
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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9
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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11
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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13
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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18
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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19
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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20
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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21
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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22
votary
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| n.崇拜者；爱好者；adj.誓约的，立誓任圣职的 | |
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23
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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24
nuptials
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| n.婚礼；婚礼( nuptial的名词复数 ) | |
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25
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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26
rife
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| adj.(指坏事情)充斥的，流行的，普遍的 | |
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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28
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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29
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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30
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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32
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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33
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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34
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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35
alludes
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| 提及，暗指( allude的第三人称单数 ) | |
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36
lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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37
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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38
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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39
lulling
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的现在分词形式） | |
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40
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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41
rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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42
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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43
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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44
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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45
courageous
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| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
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46
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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47
ingratitude
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| n.忘恩负义 | |
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48
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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49
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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50
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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51
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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52
tusks
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| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
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53
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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54
annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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55
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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56
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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57
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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anemone
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| n.海葵 | |
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60
reposes
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的第三人称单数 ) | |
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61
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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63
stanch
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| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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66
zephyr
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| n.和风，微风 | |
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67
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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68
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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69
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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70
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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71
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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72
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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