After the creation of the Fauns and Sylvans by the poets, the imagination of the latter invented the Centaur, a monster, of which the superior part was that of a man, and the remainder that of the horse.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Lycus, a mortal, being detained by Circe in her magical dominion, was beloved by a water-nymph who desired to render him immortal; she had recourse to the sorceress, and Circe gave her an incantation to p.r.o.nounce.
As Lycus walked sorrowfully in the enchanted place, astonished at the many wondrous things which met his eye, he beheld
------"The realized nymph of the stream, Rising up from the wave, with the bend and the gleam Of a fountain, and o"er her white arms she kept throwing Bright torrents of hair, that went flowing and flowing In falls to her feet, and the blue waters rolled Down her limbs like a garment, in many a fold."
HOOD.
Struck with each other"s charms they loved, but unhappily the nymph, in her anxiety for her lover"s immortality, and while calling upon her mistress to a.s.sist her, saw
------------------"The Witch Queen of that place, Even Circe the Cruel, that came like a death Which I feared, and yet fled not, for want of my breath, There was thought in her face, and her eyes were not raised From the gra.s.s at her foot, but I saw, as I gazed Her hate--"
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This hate Lycus soon experienced; as the spell desired by the nymph, was in the act of being p.r.o.nounced,
--------------------"I felt with a start, The life blood rush back in one throb to my heart, And saw the pale lips where the rest of that spell Had perished in terror, and heard the farewell Of that voice that was drowned in the dash of the stream!
How fain had I followed, and plunged with that scream Into death, but my being indignantly lagged Thro" the brutalized flesh that I painfully dragged Behind me--"
HOOD.
From this time his existence become a torture to him. Though there were none of his former beings to consort with, yet still he loved to haunt the places of his humanity, and with a beating heart and bursting frame, behold the various occupations and pleasures in which he had formerly joined.
"I once had a haunt near a cot. where a mother Daily sat in the shade with her child, and would smother Its eye-lids in kisses, and then in its sleep Sang dreams in its ears, of its manhood, while deep In a thicket of willows I gazed o"er the brooks That murmured between us, and kissed them with looks; But the willows unbosomed their secret, and never I returned to a spot I had startled for ever; Tho" I oft longed to know, but could ask it of none, Was the mother still fair, and how big was her son?"
HOOD.
Time brought no remedy, for still he was troubled by the absence of sympathy, and the repression of that human feeling which yet clung like a curse to him.
"For the haunters of fields, they all shunned me by flight, The men in their horror, the women in fright: None ever remained, save a child once that sported Among the wild blue bells, and playfully courted The breeze; and beside him a speckled snake lay Tight strangled, because it had hissed him away From the flower at his finger; he rose and drew near Like a son of immortals, one born to no fear, But with strength of black locks, and with eyes azure bright, To grow to large manhood of merciful might, He came, with his face of bold wonder, to feel The hair of my side and to lift up my heel, And questioned his face with wide eyes, but when under My lids he saw tears,--for I wept at his wonder, He stroked me, and uttered such kindliness then, That the once love of women, the friendship of men In past sorrow, no kindness, e"er came like a kiss On my heart in its desolate day, such as this {130} And I yearned at his cheeks in my love, and down bent And lifted him up in my arms with intent To kiss him--but he cruel--kindly alas!
Held out to my lips a plucked handful of gra.s.s!
Then I dropped him in horror, but felt as I fled, The stone he indignantly hurled at my head, That dissevered my ear, but I felt not, whose fate, Was to meet more distress in his love his hate!"
HOOD.
The only mitigation of his sorrow, was that when in Thessaly
"He met with the same as himself,"
and obtained with them, if not sympathy, at least companionship.
Chiron was the wisest of the Centaurs. Music, divination, astronomy, and medicine, were equally familiar to him, and his name is blended with those of the princ.i.p.al sages of Greece, whom he instructed in the use of plants and medicinal herbs.
The battle of the Centaurs with the Lapithae at the bridal of Perithous is famous in history, and was the cause of their destruction.
The Centaurs inflamed with wine, behaved with rudeness and even offered violence to the bride, and to the women that were present.
"Now brave Perithous, bold Ixion"s son, The love of fair Hippodame had won.
The cloud begotten race, half men, half beast, Invited came to grace the nuptial feast: In a cool cave"s recess the treat was made, Whose entrance, trees, with spreading boughs o"ershade, They sat; and summoned by the bridegroom, came, To mix with those, the Lapythaean name: ----------------The roofs with joy resound, And Hymen, Io Hymen, rung around.
Raised altars shone with holy fires: the bride Lovely herself, (and lovely by her side A bevy of bright nymphs, with sober grace,) Came glittering like a star, and took her place.
Her heavenly form beheld, all wished her joy; And little wanted, but in vain their wishes all employ.
For one, most brutal of the brutal brood, Or whether wine or beauty fired his blood, Or both at once, beheld with l.u.s.tful eyes The bride: at once resolved to make his prize.
Down went the board, and fastening on her hair, He seized with sudden force the frighted fair.
"Twas Eurytus began; his b.e.s.t.i.a.l kind His crime pursued, and each as pleased his mind On her, whom chance presented, took. The feast An image of a taken town expressed."
OVID.
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FLORA, POMONA, VERTUMNUS, THE SEASONS.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Flora was unknown among the Greeks, having her birth with the Romans. She was the G.o.ddess of Flowers,
--------------------------------"which unveil Their b.r.e.a.s.t.s of beauty, and each delicate bud O" the Season, comes in turn to bloom and perish.
But first of all the Violet, with an eye Blue as the midnight heavens, the frail snow-drop, Born of the breath of winter, and on his brow, Fixed like a pale and solitary star, The languid hyacinth, and wild primrose, And daisy, trodden down like modesty, The fox-glove, in whose drooping-bells the bee Makes her sweet music: the Narcissus, named From him who died for love, the tangled woodbine Lilacs and flowering limes, and scented thorns, And some from whom the voluptuous winds of June Catch their perfumery."
BARRY CORNWALL.
She married Zephyrus, and received from him the privilege of presiding over flowers, and enjoying perpetual youth.
Pomona was the G.o.ddess of Fruits and Fruit Trees, and supposed to be the Deity of Gardens.
"Her name Pomona, from her woodland race, In garden culture none could her excel, Or form the pliant souls of plants so well; Or to the fruit more generous flavours lend, Or teach the trees with n.o.bler loads to bend."
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Pleased with her office, and unwilling to take upon herself the troubles of marriage, she vowed perpetual celibacy. Numerous were the suitors who attempted to win her from her rash determination, but to all of them the answer was alike in the negative: tho" Vertumnus, one of the most zealous, pursued her with unchanging ardour.
"Long had she laboured to continue free From chains of love and nuptial tyranny; And in her orchard"s small extent immured, Her vow"d virginity she still secured.
Oft would loose Pan, and all the l.u.s.tful train Of satyrs, tempt her innocence in vain.
Vertumnus too pursued the maid no less, But with his rivals, shared a like success."
OVID.
Miserable, but not cast down, by the many refusals he met with, Vertumnus took a thousand shapes to influence the success of his suit.
"To gain access, a thousand ways he tries Oft in the hind, the lover would disguise, The heedless lout comes shambling on, and seems Just sweating from the labour of his teams.
Then from the harvest, oft the mimic swain Seems bending with a load of bearded grain.
Sometimes a dresser of the vine he feigns, And lawless tendrils to their boughs restrains.
Sometimes his sword a soldier shews; his rod An angler; still so various is the G.o.d.
Now, in a forehead cloth some crone he seems, A staff supplying the defect of limbs: Admittance thus he gains; admires the store Of fairest fruit; the fair possessor more; Then greets her with a kiss; th" unpractised dame Admired, a grandame kissed with such a flame.
Now seated by her, he beholds a vine, Around an elm in amorous foldings twine, "If that fair elm," he cried, "alone should stand, No grapes would glow with gold, and tempt the hand; Or if that vine without her elm should grow, "Twould creep a poor neglected shrub below.