No More Learning

and
favourably be ye inclined. You oft in my song I'll address, thee too I'll
approach, Peleus, pillar of Thessaly, so increased in importance by thy
fortunate wedding-torches, to whom Jupiter himself, the sire of the gods
himself, yielded up his beloved. Did not Thetis embrace thee, she most
winsome of Nereids born? Did not Tethys consent that thou should'st lead
home her grandchild, and Oceanus eke, whose waters girdle the total globe?
When in full course of time the longed-for day had dawned, all Thessaly
assembled throngs his home, a gladsome company o'erspreading the halls:
they bear gifts to the fore, and their joy in their faces they shew. Scyros
desert remains, they leave Phthiotic Tempe, Crannon's homes, and the
fortressed walls of Larissa; to Pharsalia they hie, 'neath Pharsalian roofs
they gather. None tills the soil, the heifers' necks grow softened, the
trailing vine is not cleansed by the curved rake-prongs, nor does the
sickle prune the shade of the spreading tree-branches, nor does the bullock
up-tear the glebe with the prone-bending ploughshare; squalid rust steals
o'er the neglected ploughs.

But this mansion, throughout its innermost recesses of opulent royalty,
glitters with gleaming gold and with silver. Ivory makes white the seats;
goblets glint on the boards; the whole house delights in the splendour of
royal treasure. Placed in the midst of the mansion is the bridal bed of the
goddess, made glossy with Indian tusks and covered with purple, tinted with
the shell-fish's rosy dye. This tapestry embroidered with figures of men of
ancient time pourtrays with admirable art the heroes' valour. For looking
forth from Dia's beach, resounding with crashing of breakers, Theseus
hasting from sight with swiftest of fleets, Ariadne watches, her heart
swelling with raging passion, nor scarce yet credits she sees what she
sees, as, newly-awakened from her deceptive sleep, she perceives herself,
deserted and woeful, on the lonely shore. But the heedless youth, flying
away, beats the waves with his oars, leaving his perjured vows to the gusty
gales. In the dim distance from amidst the sea-weed, the daughter of Minos
with sorrowful eyes, like a stone-carved Bacchante, gazes afar, alas! gazes
after him, heaving with great waves of grief.
No longer does the fragile
fillet bind her yellow locks, no more with light veil is her hidden bosom
covered, no more with rounded zone the milky breasts are clasped; down
fallen from her body everything is scattered, hither, thither, and the salt
waves toy with them in front of her very feet. But neither on fillet nor
floating veil, but on thee, Theseus, in their stead, was she musing: on
thee she bent her heart, her thoughts, her love-lorn mind. Ah, woeful one,
with sorrows unending distraught, Erycina sows thorny cares deep in thy
bosom, since that time when Theseus fierce in his vigour set out from the
curved bay of Piraeus, and gained the Gortynian roofs of the iniquitous
ruler.

For of old 'tis narrated, that constrained by plague of the cruelest to
expiate the slaughter of Androgeos, both chosen youths and the pick of the
unmarried maidens Cecropia was wont to give as a feast to the Minotaur.
When thus his strait walls with ills were vexed, Theseus with free will
preferred to yield up his body for adored Athens rather than such Cecropian
corpses be carried to Crete unobsequied. And therefore borne in a speedy
craft by favouring breezes, he came to the imperious Minos and his superb
seat. Instant the royal virgin him saw with longing glance, she whom the
chaste couch out-breathing sweetest of scents cradled in her mother's
tender enfoldings, like to the myrtle which the rivers of Eurotas produce,
or the many-tinted blooms opening with the springtide's breezes, she bent
not down away from him her kindling glance, until the flame spread through
her whole body, and burned into her innermost marrow. Ah, hard of heart,
urging with misery to madness, O holy boy, who mingles men's cares and
their joyings, and thou queen of Golgos and of foliaged Idalium, on what
waves did you heave the mind-kindled maid, sighing full oft for the
golden-haired guest! What dreads she bore in her swooning soul! How often
did she grow sallower in sheen than gold! When craving to contend against
the savage monster Theseus faced death or the palm of praise. Then gifts to
the gods not unmeet not idly given, with promise from tight-closed lips did
she address her vows. For as an oak waving its boughs on Taurus' top, or a
coniferous pine with sweating stem, is uprooted by savage storm, twisting
its trunk with its blast (dragged from its roots prone it falleth afar,
breaking all in the line of its fall) so did Theseus fling down the
conquered body of the brute, tossing its horns in vain towards the skies.
Thence backwards he retraced his steps 'midst great laud, guiding his
errant footsteps by means of a tenuous thread, lest when outcoming from
tortuous labyrinthines his efforts be frustrated by unobservant wandering.
But why, turned aside from my first story, should I recount more, how the
daughter fleeing her father's face, her sister's embrace, and e'en her
mother's, who despairingly bemoaned her lost daughter, preferred to all
these the sweet love of Theseus; or how borne by their boat to the spumy
shores of Dia she came; or how her yokeman with unmemoried breast forsaking
her, left her bound in the shadows of sleep? And oft, so 'tis said, with
her heart burning with fury she outpoured clarion cries from depths of her
bosom, then sadly scaled the rugged mounts, whence she could cast her
glance o'er the vasty seething ocean, then ran into the opposing billows of
the heaving sea, raising from her bared legs her clinging raiment, and in
uttermost plight of woe with tear-stained face and chilly sobs spake she
thus:--

"Is it thus, O perfidious, when dragged from my motherland's shores, is it
thus, O false Theseus, that thou leavest me on this desolate strand?