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THE FABLE OF DRYOPE [ ] FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF OVID’S METAMORPHOSES - Alexander Pope, The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope [1903]

Edition used:

The Complete Poetical Works of Alexander Pope. Cambridge Edition, ed. Henry W. Boynton (Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1903).

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THE FABLE OF DRYOPE[ ]

FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF OVID’S METAMORPHOSES

    • She said, and for her lost Galanthis sighs;
    • When the fair consort of her son replies:
    • ‘Since you a servant’s ravish’d form bemoan,
    • And kindly sigh for sorrows not your own,
    • Let me (if tears and grief permit) relate
    • A nearer woe, a sister’s stranger fate.
    • No nymph of all Œchalia could compare
    • For beauteous form with Dryope the fair,
    • Her tender mother’s only hope and pride
    • (Myself the offspring of a second bride).10
    • This nymph compress’d by him who rules the day,
    • Whom Delphi and the Delian isle obey,
    • Andræmon lov’d; and bless’d in all those charms
    • That pleas’d a God, succeeded to her arms.
    • ‘A lake there was with shelving banks around,
    • Whose verdant summit fragrant myrtles crown’d.
    • These shades, unknowing of the fates, she sought,
    • And to the Naiads flowery garlands brought:
    • Her smiling babe (a pleasing charge) she prest
    • Within her arms, and nourish’d at her breast.20
    • Not distant far a wat’ry lotos grows;
    • The spring was new, and all the verdant boughs
    • Adorn’d with blossoms, promis’d fruits that vie
    • In glowing colours with the Tyrian dye.
    • Of these she cropp’d, to please her infant son,
    • And I myself the same rash act had done:
    • But, lo! I saw (as near her side I stood)
    • The violated blossoms drop with blood;
    • Upon the tree I cast a frightful look;
    • The trembling tree with sudden horror shook.30
    • Lotis the nymph (if rural tales be true)
    • As from Priapus’ lawless lust she flew,
    • Forsook her form, and, fixing here, became
    • A flowery plant, which still preserves her name.
    • ‘This change unknown, astonish’d at the sight,
    • My trembling sister strove to urge her flight;
    • And first the pardon of the Nymphs implor’d,
    • And those offended sylvan Powers ador’d:
    • But when she backward would have fled, she found
    • Her stiff’ning feet were rooted in the ground:40
    • In vain to free her fasten’d feet she strove,
    • And as she struggles only moves above;
    • She feels th’ encroaching bark around her grow
    • By quick degrees, and cover all below:
    • Surprised at this, her trembling hand she heaves
    • To rend her hair; her hand is fill’d with leaves:
    • Where late was hair the shooting leaves are seen
    • To rise, and shade her with a sudden green.
    • The child Amphissus, to her bosom prest,
    • Perceiv’d a colder and a harder breast,50
    • And found the springs, that ne’er till then denied
    • Their milky moisture, on a sudden dried.
    • I saw, unhappy! what I now relate,
    • And stood the helpless witness of thy fate;
    • Embraced thy boughs, thy rising bark delay’d,
    • There wish’d to grow, and mingle shade with shade.
    • ‘Behold Andræmon and th’ unhappy sire
    • Appear, and for their Dryope inquire:
    • A springing tree for Dryope they find,
    • And print warm kisses on the panting rind;
    • Prostrate, with tears, their kindred plant bedew,61
    • And close embrace as to the roots they grew.
    • The face was all that now remain’d of thee,
    • No more a woman, nor yet quite a tree;
    • Thy branches hung with humid pearls appear,
    • From ev’ry leaf distils a trickling tear;
    • And straight a voice, while yet a voice remains,
    • Thus thro’ the trembling boughs in sighs complains.
    • ‘If to the wretched any faith be giv’n,
    • I swear by all th’ unpitying powers of Heav’n,70
    • No wilful crime this heavy vengeance bred;
    • In mutual innocence our lives we led:
    • If this be false, let these new greens decay, }
    • Let sounding axes lop my limbs away, }
    • And crackling flames on all my honours prey. }
    • But from my branching arms this infant bear;
    • Let some kind nurse supply a mother’s care;
    • And to his mother let him oft be led,
    • Sport in her shades, and in her shades be fed.
    • Teach him, when first his infant voice shall frame80
    • Imperfect words, and lisp his mother’s name,
    • To hail this tree, and say with weeping eyes,
    • “Within this plant my hapless parent lies:”
    • And when in youth he seeks the shady woods,
    • Oh! let him fly the crystal lakes and floods,
    • Nor touch the fatal flowers; but, warn’d by me,
    • Believe a Goddess shrined in every tree.
    • My sire, my sister, and my spouse, farewell!
    • If in your breasts or love or pity dwell,
    • Protect your plant, nor let my branches feel90
    • The browsing cattle or the piercing steel.
    • Farewell! and since I cannot bend to join
    • My lips to yours, advance at least to mine.
    • My son, thy mother’s parting kiss receive,
    • While yet thy mother has a kiss to give.
    • I can no more; the creeping rind invades
    • My closing lips, and hides my head in shades:
    • Remove your hands; the bark shall soon suffice
    • Without their aid to seal these dying eyes.’
    • ‘She ceas’d at once to speak and ceas’d to be,100
    • And all the Nymph was lost within the tree;
    • Yet latent life thro’ her new branches reign’d
    • And long the plant a human heat retain’d.’

[Page 63.]The Fable of Dryope. Upon occasion of the death of Hercules, his mother Alcmena recounts her misfortunes to Iole, who answers with a relation of those of her own family, in particular the transformation of her sister Dryope, which is the subject of the ensuing Fable. (Pope.)