The early Greeks
imagined
this to have been true of a
certain man named Erysichthon.
certain man named Erysichthon.
Ovid - 1934 - Metamorphoses in European Culture - v2
hathitrust.
org/access_use#pd-google
? PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
Alexandrians and Romans had learned to boil it. But Vergil had implied
that his Trojans boiled the venison brought in by Aeneas. Ovid went
further and stated clearly that meat was boiled, not only in the cannibal
feasts prepared by Lycaon and by Procne (Bk. 6) but also in the pleas-
ant country repast prepared by Baucis.
Callimachus had shown Hecale conversing with Theseus, while the
meal was cooking. The dialogue served pleasantly to bring out her
character, but its chief purpose was to let Theseus tell her of his quest.
In the tale of Philemon and Baucis this reason did not exist, and the
Greek author probably gave no conversation. Ovid noted that Philemon
and his guests beguiled the time with talk. It is unlikely that he quoted
any words, but at this point the manuscript is confused. It seems to
state only that Philemon offered his guests warm water in a wooden basin
for bathing their feet.
As in the previous tale of Acheloiis, Ovid assumed that people of
early times followed the contemporary practice of reclining at meals.
He described the humble nature of the couch which the old people made
ready for the gods. In the Roman countryside the most accessible and
convenient sort of wood appears to have been willow. Vergil had ob-
served in his Copa that the sickle of Priapus was carved from such
wood. Ovid noted that willow was the material used for the frame of the
couch. The mattress was made of coarse sedge grass. Over it the old
people spread drapery, which they reserved only for special occasions;
but even this was poor and worn by long use -- befitting a willow couch.
The Romans of Ovid's day preferred to eat their meals on a round table,
which had under the middle a single sturdy leg. Philemon and Baucis
had an old Tashioned table supported on three legs, one of which was
short and needed propping. Following Alexandrian and earlier Roman
descriptions of country life, Ovid added that most of the dishes were
earthenware and the cups were of beech wood polished with wax.
Ovid amplified his predecessor's account of the simple but attrac-
tive viands. He seems to have chosen details from the stories of Molor-
chus and Hecale, from Horace's discourse of Ofellus, and from Vergil's
descriptions in the Copa, the Moretum, and a passage in the Georgics
about the old Corycian. Undoubtedly he profited also by his own ob-
servation. First Baucis put on the table olives, cornel cherries pickled
in wine, endives, radishes, cream cheese, and eggs which were lightly
roasted in the ashes. Since it was early autumn, the olives were partly
ripe and mottled in color. Then came the boiled ham and cabbage and
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
some wine of recent vintage. After this, Baucis put on the second
course. There were nuts, figs, dry dates, baskets of fragrant apples,
newly gathered grapes, and, as a center-piece, a comb of white honey.
Above all, there were pleasant faces and abounding good will. Ovid gave
an impression of happy abundance and of hospitality that was cordial
and generous.
Yet, when the bowl of wine filled spontaneously, the old people
thought their food too meager for gods. They offered apologies and
then tried to make a sacrifice. Among farmers of several countries, geese
have served the purpose of a watch dog. The Vedas mentioned their
watchfulness, Chaucer alluded to the idea in his Parliament of Fowls,
and it still is known to farmers of Cape Cod. * Ovid referred often to
the subject. In the tale of Coronis (Bk. 2) he already had spoken of
geese as saving the Roman Capitol from the Gauls, and in the tale of
Ceyx (Bk. 11) he spoke of them as notably absent from the Cave of
Sleep. He described the gander of Philemon and Baucis as the watch-
man of their tiny farm. The bird eluded the old people, led them back
and forth in their unavailing chase, and at last took refuge with the
gods.
Jupiter and Mercury admitted their divine nature and promised to
exempt the old people from the punishment in store for their neighbors.
They bade Philemon and Baucis accompany them to the summit of a
near-by mountain. Intent on this difficult climb, the old people had
ascended within a bowshot of the top before they turned to look back.
Seeing the newly formed lake, they lamented the death of their neighbors.
Soon they observed their hut being transformed into a marble temple
with a golden roof. Ovid repeated the incident of Jupiter's Question and
the response of the old people. He recorded also the metamorphosis of
Philemon and Baucis into trees, adding that to the last each of them
said, "Farewell, dear mate. "
Ovid showed Lelex observing that he himself heard the tale from
reliable old men of the neighborhood and that he hung a votive wreath
on the trees. Since Theseus had enjoyed similar hospitality of Hecale,
Ovid observed, appropriately, that he found the tale especially im-
pressive. He indicated that even Pirithoiis was impressed, at least for
a while.
*In Argentina farmers often rely on the similar watchfulness of a native bird
called the chajas.
Apparently the Greeks began domesticating geese only in later Homeric times,
for the Iliad always refers to geese as wild, but the Odyssey mentions them as tame in
the farm yards of Menelaiis and of Penelope.
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? PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
Ovid's narrative of Philemon and Baucis attracted many leading
authors of later times. Dry den translated it. Three other authors re-
told it at some length, all of them giving more attention to the churlish
behavior of the neighbors.
La Fontaine repeated the tale as evidence that simple life is pref-
erable to the rank and wealth of a courtier. He was impressed by the
enduring affection of Philemon and Baucis and spoke of the two trees
as being visited by those desiring a happy marriage. In the course of
the tale he introduced a number of minor changes -- usually for the
worse. But he added with good effect the idea that his old people
lamented especially the death of their neighbors' animals.
Swift, retelling the story as comic narrative in verse, adapted it to
English life of his own day. The gods became two saints, and the bowl
of wine became a jug of ale. Towards the end of the story the cottage
turned into a country church, the transformation being described with
an extraordinary amount of humorous detail. Philemon wished to be-
come a threadbare country parson. At last the old couple were meta-
morphosed into yew trees growing in the churchyard, which were
pointed out to strangers by Goodman Dobson.
Hawthorne retold the story as a delightful children's tale, with a
setting in New England. He continually introduced miraculous inci-
dents, and, since Ovid had implied that Mercury had with him his winged
staff, he made much of its supernatural behavior. Instead of suggesting
poverty by humble and meager furnishings, Hawthorne indicated it,
less happily, by scanty food and the anxiety of Baucis. He lessened the
difficulty, however, by adding that humble fare was transformed into
viands of heavenly excellence. Hawthorne suggested a more appropriate
reward for the hospitable old people. They were given ample means for
showing hospitality. Their cottage became a palace.
Still other modern authors made brief allusions to Ovid's tale.
Shakespeare was impressed by the incongruity of Jupiter in a thatched
cottage, and he referred to the idea both in Much Ado About Nothing
and As You Like It. Goethe used the names of Philemon and Baucis and
a number of the circumstances in a scene of his Faust.
Ovid's narrative inspired paintings by Primaticcio and Abbate, by
Elsheimer, Rubens, Van der Haecke, and Restout, and a sketch by
Ingres. Gounod, following chiefly the version of La Fontaine, treated
the subject in an opera that enjoyed popularity for many years.
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
Peoteus
After Theseus had listened to the story of Philemon and Baucis,
Ovid supposed that he wished to hear more about the wonderful doings
of the gods. Achelous proceeded to tell some of them. He noted that
sometimes, as in the tales just told, a person assumed a new form and
continued in it indefinitely, but at other times a person changed succes-
sively into a number of forms. Achelous gave three examples. In two of
them there was power of changing into an unlimited number. The first
example was the sea god Proteus, who took one new form after another.
The second was the girl Hypermnestra, who took a new shape, returned
to her former shape, and then took another new shape, and so on through
many changes. In the third example, that of Achelous himself, there
was power to change often, but the number of forms was limited. Thus
Ovid was able to include three examples of successive metamorphoses,
each example different from the others.
Of Proteus the Odyssey had given a famous account. It ran to the
following effect. While Menelaiis was returning home from Troy, he was
becalmed in the isle of Pharos, which lay near the Egyptian coast, about
twelve miles distant from the Canopic mouth of the Nile. This isle
afterwards was chosen by Ptolemy as the site of the first lighthouse ever
built, which became one of the Seven Wonders of the World. A daughter
of Proteus took pity on Menelaiis and advised him to question her
father, who knew all things. She told him that Proteus had charge of
the seals and other marine herds of Neptune and that during the noon-
day heat he would come with them to sleep in a cave by the shore. Taking
advantage of this opportunity, Menelaiis could seize Proteus and hold
him fast. The god would try to escape by changing into strange forms;
he would become every sort of reptile and even water and fire. But, if
Menelaiis should continue to hold him fast, he would resume his original
shape and give the desired information. With the daughter's aid,
Menelaiis surprised and captured Proteus. The god assumed many
forms -- on the whole different from those previously mentioned. He
became a lion with a mane, a dragon, a leopard, a huge boar, flowing
water, and a tall, leafy tree. But Menelaiis held on resolutely until he
returned to his original shape.
Other ancient authors showed interest in Proteus. Herodotus iden-
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? PROTEUS
tified him with an Egyptian god called Cetes (Sea Monster). Plato
noted in his dialogue, Euthythro, that Proteus must be held until he
speaks. Plato referred to him as proverbial for escaping by clever dis-
guises and associated him with cunning evasion of obligations. Horace,
repeating this idea in a satire, noted various metamorphoses, two of
them -- those to a bird and a rock, not mentioned before. In an epistle,
Horace associated Proteus with the kindred idea of fickleness. Most
authors continued to think of the god as residing in Pharos.
Vergil in the Georgics gave Proteus a different residence. Usually,
he said, the god lived by the island of Carpathus between Crete and
Rhodes, but occasionally he visited the shores of Thessaly. In emula-
tion of the Odyssey Vergil told how during one of these visits Aristaeus
surprised and questioned him. Vergil imagined the nymph Cyrene as
giving the hero advice and assistance. On the whole he made the story
similar to that of the Odyssey. He recorded four of the same transfor-
mations -- those to a dragon, a boar, flowing water, and fire. But he
substituted a lioness for the lion, and he added two other metamorphoses
-- to a black tigress and to an unnamed horrible beast.
Ovid repeatedly showed his interest in the transformations of Pro-
teus. In the Amores he referred to the subject as one of many strange
fictions of the poets. In the tale of Phaethon (Bk. 2) he described
Proteus as of uncertain shape. He now showed Acheloiis discussing the
sea god's remarkable powers of transformation. Since Menelaiis had
encountered Proteus after the Trojan War -- a generation later than
Theseus, Ovid could not repeat the story told in the Odyssey. But he
took most of his ideas from this famous account. The Greek author
had implied that Proteus used his powers not only at the time when
he tried to escape Menelaiis but habitually. Ovid made the idea ex-
plicit. Following the Odyssey, he mentioned changes to a lion, a boar,
a stream, and a fire. In doing this he added a few effective epithets. For
example, where his predecessor spoke of the boar as huge, Ovid described
it, more interestingly, as impetuous. He added also three new trans-
formations -- to a youth, a bull, and a stone.
It would have been possible to repeat Vergil's account of Proteus
and Aristaeus. As father of Actaeon (Bk. 3), Aristaeus would have
lived long before the time of Theseus and could have been introduced in
a tale of the remote past. But Ovid intended to use the Georgics later
and still more effectively. Vergil had gained an advantage by using
ideas of the Odyssey for a story of his own. Ovid planned to use the
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
ideas of Vergil in a similar manner for a new story of Peleus and Thetis
(Bk. 11), making Proteus the deitj' assisting the hero and Thetis the
deity who endeavored to escape by many transformations. In the story
about Peleus he intended to make Carpathus the residence of Proteus.
Perhaps for this reason he did not mention any residence in the discus-
sion of Acheloiis.
Ovid's account of Proteus was in itself inconspicuous. During the
Middle Ages it seems to have aroused no particular interest in the sub-
ject. But during the Renaissance, when the Odyssey and the Georgics
became accessible, Ovid's version undoubtedly encouraged men to seek
further information in these poems and contributed to a lively interest
in Proteus and his numerous changes. Many authors of the Renais-
sance and the nineteenth century recalled the idea. Goethe in his Faust
seems to have followed the Odyssey. Milton in his Paradise Lost fol-
lowed Vergil. A number of authors referred to the tradition without
clear recollection of any particular account, the most important ex-
ample being Spenser in his narratives of Proteus and Florimell and of
Archimago and Una. We may assume that such authors were encour-
aged to mention the subject by reading of Proteus in a work so familiar
as the Metamorphoses. And probably Ovid's account was the main
reason why Shakespeare gave the name Proteus to the fickle youth in
Two Gentlemen of Verona.
In Hawthorne's tale, The Three Golden Apples, the tradition of
Proteus suggested an adventure of Hercules with Nereus.
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? ERYSICHTHON
Erysichthon
Acheloiis now began to tell about another example of successive
changes. This was the daughter of Erysichthon. The myth appears to
have originated in Thessaly and at first to have been concerned entirely
with Erysichthon himself.
In actual life a human being sometimes is known to eat ravenously
and yet without visible cause to remain lean and undernourished. Re-
cent investigation has shown that the phenomenon may be due to one
of several kinds of internal disorder, such as an over active thyroid
gland. To savages it might appear as if the afflicted person had offended
the gods providing nourishment and as if their gifts had lost the power
to benefit him.
The early Greeks imagined this to have been true of a
certain man named Erysichthon. According to the mythographer
Hellanicus, he was a son of Myrmidon, and he was given the nickname
Aethon (Consuming Fire) because no amount of food would satisfy his
hunger. His name seems to have become proverbial for voracity. Hel-
lanicus mentioned him as living at a very early period, perhaps before
the Deluge. Afterwards authors thought of him as living at a somewhat
indefinite time in the remote past.
Before the Alexandrian era the story had taken rather definite
form. It was supposed that Erysichthon had offended Ceres, and his
offense was associated with a practice common in many lands of regard-
ing certain groves as sacred to a major divinity. It was believed that a
certain great divinity took special pleasure in visiting such localities
and would resent any injury done to them. Even if trees were to be cut
for some necessary reason, it was thought wise to propitiate their divine
patron. The elder Cato noted that, before thinning a sacred grove, one
ought to offer prayers and sacrifice a hog. Erysichthon had invaded
a grove sacred to Ceres and had cut down several trees. Although the
story may have implied that he wished to make some use of them, it does
not seem to have mentioned his purpose. The goddess punished him with
hunger that nothing could appease.
Callimachus in his Hymn to Ceres recorded the earliest version
which now survives. He suggested some previous displeasure of the god-
dess with Erysichthon's family and the possibility of the offender's hav-
ing acted under influence of a curse. Evidently sympathizing with his
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
misfortunes, Callimachus declared that he was reduced to a pitiable
state. Callimachus gave a different account of Erysichthon's parent-
age. His grandfather was thought to have been Neptune, and his father
was King Triopas of Dotium, on the western shore of Lake Boebais. At
the time of the story Erysichthon was a youth, perhaps sixteen years
old.
Callimachus described the grove of Ceres, noting its many varieties
of trees. Into this grove the rash young prince led twenty strong men
armed with axes. They first began cutting a poplar, which towered as
high as heaven, a tree under which the dryads loved to sport during the
time of noonday heat. Callimachus seemed to imply that they also be-
gan to cut other trees, but he left the matter uncertain. Aware of the
trespass, Ceres took the form of her priestess and warned the prince to
forbear, lest he incur the wrath of the goddess. Looking fiercely at her,
he threatened her with an axe and replied that her trees were to become
his banquet hall, in which he was going to feast with his companions.
Nemesis recorded the impious words. The goddess resumed her own im-
pressive form. In terror the twenty strong men fled. Ceres spared them,
because they had acted under constraint. She cursed the prince with
many feasts in his hall. Presumably she referred to the hall that Ery-
sichthon already was using, for he could hardly have persisted in his
purpose of building the new one.
The goddess afflicted him with consuming hunger. No matter how
much he ate, he longed for as much again. Twenty persons were needed
to prepare one of his meals. Bacchus, cooperating with Ceres, afflicted
him with such thirst that twelve people were needed to serve him wine.
He ate all varieties of food, feasted for days at a time, and remained
unsatisfied, as if the food had gone into the sea.
Ashamed of his affliction, his parents tried to conceal it by keeping
him within the palace. If anyone asked him to go elsewhere, they de-
clined the invitation with various excuses. The prince wasted away. His
mother, his two sisters, and the handmaids wept for him. His father be-
sought Neptune either to cure his malady or to provide the necessary
food, for already the boy had consumed all the flocks and herds, the
mules, the racehorse and the warhorse, the heifer sacred to Vesta, and
even the cat dreaded by all lesser beasts. Neptune did not help him. Ap-
parently no one thought of trying to placate Ceres. And now the secret
could be kept no longer, for the prince sat by the crossroads begging all
who passed for morsels of food.
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? ERYSICHTHON
Another Alexandrian version of the tale appeared at about the
same time as that of Callimachus. Both the work and the name of its
author now are lost. It described Erysichthon as a man of mature years
and himself a king. The author does not appear to have mentioned any
descent from Neptune' or to have spoken of a mother and sisters.
And apparently he thought of the events as occurring not inland near
Dotium, but somewhere near the coast. He repeated briefly the tradi-
tional account that Erysichthon cut down several trees and that Ceres
punished him with invincible hunger. But he added a new circumstance.
The king had a grown daughter named Hypermnestra (Very Per-
suasive). * When he exhausted other means of getting food, he took ad-
vantage of her peculiar gifts. In many countries witches have been sup-
posed to make a living fraudulently by the following means. They first
metamorphose a human being into a different form, usually that of an
animal, and sell him. Then at some convenient occasion they restore his
original form, take him back, and repeat the process. A similar idea
entered into the tale of Erysichthon, with a twofold reversal of the usual
process. The human being made a living fraudulently by selling the
witch. And the witch was sold in her original form and took an alien
shape in order to return. Hypermnestra made herself attractive to a
prospective purchaser; her father sold her in her own form as a slave;
and at the first opportunity she assumed a strange form and returned
to her father. By such trickery she was able to provide for him. The
Alexandrian author seems to have imagined that she did so for a long
time -- an idea which was very improbable. The power of transforming
herself at will she obtained from Neptune. After ravishing her, the god
had offered it in compensation.
At last the ravenous father sold her to Autolycus. Since the time
of the Iliad he had been described as a superlative thief; and since the
time of the Catalogues he had been notorious for ability to conceal his
thefts by changing the objects beyond recognition. Understanding the
wiles of Hypermnestra, he prevented her escape. The Odyssey had named
Amphithea as the wife of Autolycus, but the Alexandrian author de-
clared that he married Hypermnestra. Deprived of his last resource,
Erysichthon perished.
To this version of the tale several authors made allusion. Lycophron
noted that Erysichthon maintained himself by daily traffic of his daugh-
*The name appeared also as Hypermestra and as the abbreviated forms Mnestra
and Mestra.
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
ter. Ovid in his Ibis spoke of her as taking a thousand shapes. Nicander
observed that on one occasion the girl assumed the form of a man.
In the Metamorphoses Ovid followed the second Alexandrian ver-
sion, but he introduced important ideas from Callimachus and added
much new material. Although he identified Hypermnestra as the wife of
Autolycus and the daughter of Erysichthon, he never mentioned her
name. Following Callimachus, he spoke of her father as a Thessalian,
the son of Triopas; and, following the second Alexandrian author, he
did not record the locality but imagined it as near the coast. Ovid took
an unfavorable view of Erysichthon's character and continually height-
ened the sense of his guilt. Although he usually did this in tales of im-
piety, he may also have had a special reason. Acheloiis, who was telling
the story, might desire to impress more deeply the sceptic Pirithoiis.
Erysichthon, said Ovid, habitually scorned the gods and refused to
make offerings. He even violated a grove sacred to Ceres, felling with the
axe her ancient trees. The idea of his cutting down more than one of
them was in accord with tradition, but was not borne out by Ovid's own
account. Feeling that desire to construct a banquet hall might afford
some excuse, Ovid mentioned no purpose and suggested by the context
that his motive was sheer bravado.
Following Callimachus, Ovid imagined that Erysichthon began with
an especially large and venerable tree. Ovid gave a longer and somewhat
different description of it. Vergil in his Georgics had counseled the
shepherd to rest his flock at noon where some great oak, full of ancient
strength, spread its huge limbs. In the Aeneid, Vergil had likened his
hero to an oak mighty with the strength of many years. Recalling both
passages, Ovid made the tree a huge oak, full of the strength of many
years. * And his idea had the further advantage that oaks were more apt
than poplars to be regarded as sacred trees. Ovid added that the oak
was itself a grove, an expression that he already had applied to the water
lotus in his Epistle of Sappho. Round the trunk hung many evidences of
the tree's sacred character -- fillets, garlands, tablets bearing witness to
answered prayers. Following Callimachus, Ovid noted that dryads often
held festive dances in its shade. He described the size of the tree in terms
at once more moderate and more precise. The oak was nearly twenty-
three feet in circumference and twice the height of the surrounding grove.
This tree the impious man decided to fell. Ovid implied that he
*Vergil's phrases were Magna lovis antiquo robore quercus Ingentis tendat
ramos, and annoso vaUdam cum. robore quercum. Ovid's phrase was vngens annoto
robore querent.
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? ERYSICHTHON
ordered part of his attendants to fasten ropes at suitable places among
the limbs and to pull on them when the oak should be ready to fall. This
done, he ordered the others to begin cutting with axes. They showed re-
luctance to obey. Ovid then profited by a hint from Callimachus. Ac-
cording to the Alexandrian poet, Ceres had appeared in disguise, and
Erysichthon had threatened her with an axe. Ovid thought of the goddess
as residing at a majestic distance, beyond the reach of such direct in-
sult. But he made even more striking the violator's impious intent. Seiz-
ing an axe from one of his followers, Erysichthon declared that he would
cut down the tree, even if it were the goddess herself.
At this point Ovid introduced a new idea. It grew out of many be-
liefs which savages have held regarding trees. Most savage peoples have
imagined them as the residence of supernatural beings, who could enter
or leave at will. The early Greeks thought of these beings as nymphs
called dryads or hamadryads. In accord with this idea both Callimachus
and Ovid had spoken of dryads dancing under the sacred tree. If it
should be necessary to cut down the residence of such a being, savages
felt that its owner ought to be compensated with another residence.
Usually they regarded the matter as easy to arrange. It sufficed to lay
on the stump a twig of some other tree.
Many savage peoples thought it prudent also to give the tree spirit
warning in advance and to offer an urgent reason for taking his resi-
dence. When possible, they thought it well also to put the responsibility
elsewhere. The native of Java was careful to read a spurious proclama-
tion from the Dutch government ordering destruction of the tree. Neglect
of such precautions might result in the guilty person's dying from ven-
geance of the offended spirit.
Savage peoples have imagined sometimes that spirits inhabiting
trees are inseparable from them and would perish if the tree should die.
Both in China and in Europe, peasants have declared that, if certain
trees are injured, they lament and utter words of protest. This idea of
inherent spirits occurred often in Greek literature. The Homeric Hymn
to Venus noted that dryads of Mt. Ida perish with their oaks and pines.
Callimachus in his Hymn to Delos discussed the dependence of nymphs
on their oak trees. And Ovid in the Fasti repeated a tradition that
Cybele destroyed a certain hamadryad by cutting down her tree.
Apollonius told a more elaborate story of this kind. The father of
a certain Paraebius, he said, was felling trees on a mountain of Thrace.
He came to an oak inhabited by a dryad. She wept and besought him to
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
spare the tree on which she had relied through all the years of her long
life. He disregarded her plea, and before dying she punished him with a
curse. As a result of it, both the offender and his children had to toil for
their living, and they continually toiled harder and fared worse. At last
the seer Phineus taught Paraebius how to obtain relief by due prayer
and sacrifice. Ovid decided to bring a similar incident into the tale of
Erysichthon. He imagined the presence of a dryad whose life should end
with the fall of the sacred tree, and he planned to have her lay a similar
curse on her destroyer.
But he decided to enhance the effect with still another idea. In many
countries men have thought that a spirit inhabiting a tree is so nearly
identical with it that, if the tree should be cut or broken, the injured
place would bleed. In the Aeneid, Vergil used the idea with striking effect.
The spirit of Polydorus had entered into a thicket of cornels and myrtles
that sprouted on his grave. When Aeneas began pulling up the stems,
blood dripped from the torn roots and bark. When he cautiously per-
sisted, Polydorus groaned beneath the earth, protested, and told Aeneas
who it was. Ovid planned to imitate the incident, adding further detail.
As Erysichthon raised the axe to strike, the great oak trembled
and groaned. Pallor spread through its leaves and all the length of its
branches. As the steel cut into the trunk, blood gushed forth, as freely
as if a priest had cut through the neck of a huge sacrificial bull. All the
attendants were aghast. One of them even ventured to interfere. Ery-
sichthon scornfully cut off his head. Then, as the impious man struck
repeated blows, the dryad spoke within the tree, declaring herself a
nymph loved by Ceres and warning him that vengeance was to follow her
death. Still he persisted in the crime. If Erysichthon intended to fell an
oak of such dimensions -- seven feet in diameter, he probably would have
done some preliminary work with the axe and then called for a saw. It
seems unlikely that he would have attempted to cut down the tree with an
axe and incredible that he could have finished the task in a single period
of work. But Ovid assumed the contrary. Weakened by persistent cut-
ting and pulled by the ropes, the tree crashed down, overwhelming a
wide stretch of the surrounding grove.
Ovid imagined that during these tragic events Ceres was absent and
unaware of the sacrilege. He implied later that she was in some other
part of Thessaly. The dryads, clad in mourning, went to her and prayed
for redress. In the tale of Lycaon (Bk. 1), Ovid had spoken of Jupiter
as moving earth and sky when he shook his head. He now observed that
216
? ?
? PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
Alexandrians and Romans had learned to boil it. But Vergil had implied
that his Trojans boiled the venison brought in by Aeneas. Ovid went
further and stated clearly that meat was boiled, not only in the cannibal
feasts prepared by Lycaon and by Procne (Bk. 6) but also in the pleas-
ant country repast prepared by Baucis.
Callimachus had shown Hecale conversing with Theseus, while the
meal was cooking. The dialogue served pleasantly to bring out her
character, but its chief purpose was to let Theseus tell her of his quest.
In the tale of Philemon and Baucis this reason did not exist, and the
Greek author probably gave no conversation. Ovid noted that Philemon
and his guests beguiled the time with talk. It is unlikely that he quoted
any words, but at this point the manuscript is confused. It seems to
state only that Philemon offered his guests warm water in a wooden basin
for bathing their feet.
As in the previous tale of Acheloiis, Ovid assumed that people of
early times followed the contemporary practice of reclining at meals.
He described the humble nature of the couch which the old people made
ready for the gods. In the Roman countryside the most accessible and
convenient sort of wood appears to have been willow. Vergil had ob-
served in his Copa that the sickle of Priapus was carved from such
wood. Ovid noted that willow was the material used for the frame of the
couch. The mattress was made of coarse sedge grass. Over it the old
people spread drapery, which they reserved only for special occasions;
but even this was poor and worn by long use -- befitting a willow couch.
The Romans of Ovid's day preferred to eat their meals on a round table,
which had under the middle a single sturdy leg. Philemon and Baucis
had an old Tashioned table supported on three legs, one of which was
short and needed propping. Following Alexandrian and earlier Roman
descriptions of country life, Ovid added that most of the dishes were
earthenware and the cups were of beech wood polished with wax.
Ovid amplified his predecessor's account of the simple but attrac-
tive viands. He seems to have chosen details from the stories of Molor-
chus and Hecale, from Horace's discourse of Ofellus, and from Vergil's
descriptions in the Copa, the Moretum, and a passage in the Georgics
about the old Corycian. Undoubtedly he profited also by his own ob-
servation. First Baucis put on the table olives, cornel cherries pickled
in wine, endives, radishes, cream cheese, and eggs which were lightly
roasted in the ashes. Since it was early autumn, the olives were partly
ripe and mottled in color. Then came the boiled ham and cabbage and
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
some wine of recent vintage. After this, Baucis put on the second
course. There were nuts, figs, dry dates, baskets of fragrant apples,
newly gathered grapes, and, as a center-piece, a comb of white honey.
Above all, there were pleasant faces and abounding good will. Ovid gave
an impression of happy abundance and of hospitality that was cordial
and generous.
Yet, when the bowl of wine filled spontaneously, the old people
thought their food too meager for gods. They offered apologies and
then tried to make a sacrifice. Among farmers of several countries, geese
have served the purpose of a watch dog. The Vedas mentioned their
watchfulness, Chaucer alluded to the idea in his Parliament of Fowls,
and it still is known to farmers of Cape Cod. * Ovid referred often to
the subject. In the tale of Coronis (Bk. 2) he already had spoken of
geese as saving the Roman Capitol from the Gauls, and in the tale of
Ceyx (Bk. 11) he spoke of them as notably absent from the Cave of
Sleep. He described the gander of Philemon and Baucis as the watch-
man of their tiny farm. The bird eluded the old people, led them back
and forth in their unavailing chase, and at last took refuge with the
gods.
Jupiter and Mercury admitted their divine nature and promised to
exempt the old people from the punishment in store for their neighbors.
They bade Philemon and Baucis accompany them to the summit of a
near-by mountain. Intent on this difficult climb, the old people had
ascended within a bowshot of the top before they turned to look back.
Seeing the newly formed lake, they lamented the death of their neighbors.
Soon they observed their hut being transformed into a marble temple
with a golden roof. Ovid repeated the incident of Jupiter's Question and
the response of the old people. He recorded also the metamorphosis of
Philemon and Baucis into trees, adding that to the last each of them
said, "Farewell, dear mate. "
Ovid showed Lelex observing that he himself heard the tale from
reliable old men of the neighborhood and that he hung a votive wreath
on the trees. Since Theseus had enjoyed similar hospitality of Hecale,
Ovid observed, appropriately, that he found the tale especially im-
pressive. He indicated that even Pirithoiis was impressed, at least for
a while.
*In Argentina farmers often rely on the similar watchfulness of a native bird
called the chajas.
Apparently the Greeks began domesticating geese only in later Homeric times,
for the Iliad always refers to geese as wild, but the Odyssey mentions them as tame in
the farm yards of Menelaiis and of Penelope.
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? PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
Ovid's narrative of Philemon and Baucis attracted many leading
authors of later times. Dry den translated it. Three other authors re-
told it at some length, all of them giving more attention to the churlish
behavior of the neighbors.
La Fontaine repeated the tale as evidence that simple life is pref-
erable to the rank and wealth of a courtier. He was impressed by the
enduring affection of Philemon and Baucis and spoke of the two trees
as being visited by those desiring a happy marriage. In the course of
the tale he introduced a number of minor changes -- usually for the
worse. But he added with good effect the idea that his old people
lamented especially the death of their neighbors' animals.
Swift, retelling the story as comic narrative in verse, adapted it to
English life of his own day. The gods became two saints, and the bowl
of wine became a jug of ale. Towards the end of the story the cottage
turned into a country church, the transformation being described with
an extraordinary amount of humorous detail. Philemon wished to be-
come a threadbare country parson. At last the old couple were meta-
morphosed into yew trees growing in the churchyard, which were
pointed out to strangers by Goodman Dobson.
Hawthorne retold the story as a delightful children's tale, with a
setting in New England. He continually introduced miraculous inci-
dents, and, since Ovid had implied that Mercury had with him his winged
staff, he made much of its supernatural behavior. Instead of suggesting
poverty by humble and meager furnishings, Hawthorne indicated it,
less happily, by scanty food and the anxiety of Baucis. He lessened the
difficulty, however, by adding that humble fare was transformed into
viands of heavenly excellence. Hawthorne suggested a more appropriate
reward for the hospitable old people. They were given ample means for
showing hospitality. Their cottage became a palace.
Still other modern authors made brief allusions to Ovid's tale.
Shakespeare was impressed by the incongruity of Jupiter in a thatched
cottage, and he referred to the idea both in Much Ado About Nothing
and As You Like It. Goethe used the names of Philemon and Baucis and
a number of the circumstances in a scene of his Faust.
Ovid's narrative inspired paintings by Primaticcio and Abbate, by
Elsheimer, Rubens, Van der Haecke, and Restout, and a sketch by
Ingres. Gounod, following chiefly the version of La Fontaine, treated
the subject in an opera that enjoyed popularity for many years.
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
Peoteus
After Theseus had listened to the story of Philemon and Baucis,
Ovid supposed that he wished to hear more about the wonderful doings
of the gods. Achelous proceeded to tell some of them. He noted that
sometimes, as in the tales just told, a person assumed a new form and
continued in it indefinitely, but at other times a person changed succes-
sively into a number of forms. Achelous gave three examples. In two of
them there was power of changing into an unlimited number. The first
example was the sea god Proteus, who took one new form after another.
The second was the girl Hypermnestra, who took a new shape, returned
to her former shape, and then took another new shape, and so on through
many changes. In the third example, that of Achelous himself, there
was power to change often, but the number of forms was limited. Thus
Ovid was able to include three examples of successive metamorphoses,
each example different from the others.
Of Proteus the Odyssey had given a famous account. It ran to the
following effect. While Menelaiis was returning home from Troy, he was
becalmed in the isle of Pharos, which lay near the Egyptian coast, about
twelve miles distant from the Canopic mouth of the Nile. This isle
afterwards was chosen by Ptolemy as the site of the first lighthouse ever
built, which became one of the Seven Wonders of the World. A daughter
of Proteus took pity on Menelaiis and advised him to question her
father, who knew all things. She told him that Proteus had charge of
the seals and other marine herds of Neptune and that during the noon-
day heat he would come with them to sleep in a cave by the shore. Taking
advantage of this opportunity, Menelaiis could seize Proteus and hold
him fast. The god would try to escape by changing into strange forms;
he would become every sort of reptile and even water and fire. But, if
Menelaiis should continue to hold him fast, he would resume his original
shape and give the desired information. With the daughter's aid,
Menelaiis surprised and captured Proteus. The god assumed many
forms -- on the whole different from those previously mentioned. He
became a lion with a mane, a dragon, a leopard, a huge boar, flowing
water, and a tall, leafy tree. But Menelaiis held on resolutely until he
returned to his original shape.
Other ancient authors showed interest in Proteus. Herodotus iden-
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? PROTEUS
tified him with an Egyptian god called Cetes (Sea Monster). Plato
noted in his dialogue, Euthythro, that Proteus must be held until he
speaks. Plato referred to him as proverbial for escaping by clever dis-
guises and associated him with cunning evasion of obligations. Horace,
repeating this idea in a satire, noted various metamorphoses, two of
them -- those to a bird and a rock, not mentioned before. In an epistle,
Horace associated Proteus with the kindred idea of fickleness. Most
authors continued to think of the god as residing in Pharos.
Vergil in the Georgics gave Proteus a different residence. Usually,
he said, the god lived by the island of Carpathus between Crete and
Rhodes, but occasionally he visited the shores of Thessaly. In emula-
tion of the Odyssey Vergil told how during one of these visits Aristaeus
surprised and questioned him. Vergil imagined the nymph Cyrene as
giving the hero advice and assistance. On the whole he made the story
similar to that of the Odyssey. He recorded four of the same transfor-
mations -- those to a dragon, a boar, flowing water, and fire. But he
substituted a lioness for the lion, and he added two other metamorphoses
-- to a black tigress and to an unnamed horrible beast.
Ovid repeatedly showed his interest in the transformations of Pro-
teus. In the Amores he referred to the subject as one of many strange
fictions of the poets. In the tale of Phaethon (Bk. 2) he described
Proteus as of uncertain shape. He now showed Acheloiis discussing the
sea god's remarkable powers of transformation. Since Menelaiis had
encountered Proteus after the Trojan War -- a generation later than
Theseus, Ovid could not repeat the story told in the Odyssey. But he
took most of his ideas from this famous account. The Greek author
had implied that Proteus used his powers not only at the time when
he tried to escape Menelaiis but habitually. Ovid made the idea ex-
plicit. Following the Odyssey, he mentioned changes to a lion, a boar,
a stream, and a fire. In doing this he added a few effective epithets. For
example, where his predecessor spoke of the boar as huge, Ovid described
it, more interestingly, as impetuous. He added also three new trans-
formations -- to a youth, a bull, and a stone.
It would have been possible to repeat Vergil's account of Proteus
and Aristaeus. As father of Actaeon (Bk. 3), Aristaeus would have
lived long before the time of Theseus and could have been introduced in
a tale of the remote past. But Ovid intended to use the Georgics later
and still more effectively. Vergil had gained an advantage by using
ideas of the Odyssey for a story of his own. Ovid planned to use the
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
ideas of Vergil in a similar manner for a new story of Peleus and Thetis
(Bk. 11), making Proteus the deitj' assisting the hero and Thetis the
deity who endeavored to escape by many transformations. In the story
about Peleus he intended to make Carpathus the residence of Proteus.
Perhaps for this reason he did not mention any residence in the discus-
sion of Acheloiis.
Ovid's account of Proteus was in itself inconspicuous. During the
Middle Ages it seems to have aroused no particular interest in the sub-
ject. But during the Renaissance, when the Odyssey and the Georgics
became accessible, Ovid's version undoubtedly encouraged men to seek
further information in these poems and contributed to a lively interest
in Proteus and his numerous changes. Many authors of the Renais-
sance and the nineteenth century recalled the idea. Goethe in his Faust
seems to have followed the Odyssey. Milton in his Paradise Lost fol-
lowed Vergil. A number of authors referred to the tradition without
clear recollection of any particular account, the most important ex-
ample being Spenser in his narratives of Proteus and Florimell and of
Archimago and Una. We may assume that such authors were encour-
aged to mention the subject by reading of Proteus in a work so familiar
as the Metamorphoses. And probably Ovid's account was the main
reason why Shakespeare gave the name Proteus to the fickle youth in
Two Gentlemen of Verona.
In Hawthorne's tale, The Three Golden Apples, the tradition of
Proteus suggested an adventure of Hercules with Nereus.
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? ERYSICHTHON
Erysichthon
Acheloiis now began to tell about another example of successive
changes. This was the daughter of Erysichthon. The myth appears to
have originated in Thessaly and at first to have been concerned entirely
with Erysichthon himself.
In actual life a human being sometimes is known to eat ravenously
and yet without visible cause to remain lean and undernourished. Re-
cent investigation has shown that the phenomenon may be due to one
of several kinds of internal disorder, such as an over active thyroid
gland. To savages it might appear as if the afflicted person had offended
the gods providing nourishment and as if their gifts had lost the power
to benefit him.
The early Greeks imagined this to have been true of a
certain man named Erysichthon. According to the mythographer
Hellanicus, he was a son of Myrmidon, and he was given the nickname
Aethon (Consuming Fire) because no amount of food would satisfy his
hunger. His name seems to have become proverbial for voracity. Hel-
lanicus mentioned him as living at a very early period, perhaps before
the Deluge. Afterwards authors thought of him as living at a somewhat
indefinite time in the remote past.
Before the Alexandrian era the story had taken rather definite
form. It was supposed that Erysichthon had offended Ceres, and his
offense was associated with a practice common in many lands of regard-
ing certain groves as sacred to a major divinity. It was believed that a
certain great divinity took special pleasure in visiting such localities
and would resent any injury done to them. Even if trees were to be cut
for some necessary reason, it was thought wise to propitiate their divine
patron. The elder Cato noted that, before thinning a sacred grove, one
ought to offer prayers and sacrifice a hog. Erysichthon had invaded
a grove sacred to Ceres and had cut down several trees. Although the
story may have implied that he wished to make some use of them, it does
not seem to have mentioned his purpose. The goddess punished him with
hunger that nothing could appease.
Callimachus in his Hymn to Ceres recorded the earliest version
which now survives. He suggested some previous displeasure of the god-
dess with Erysichthon's family and the possibility of the offender's hav-
ing acted under influence of a curse. Evidently sympathizing with his
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
misfortunes, Callimachus declared that he was reduced to a pitiable
state. Callimachus gave a different account of Erysichthon's parent-
age. His grandfather was thought to have been Neptune, and his father
was King Triopas of Dotium, on the western shore of Lake Boebais. At
the time of the story Erysichthon was a youth, perhaps sixteen years
old.
Callimachus described the grove of Ceres, noting its many varieties
of trees. Into this grove the rash young prince led twenty strong men
armed with axes. They first began cutting a poplar, which towered as
high as heaven, a tree under which the dryads loved to sport during the
time of noonday heat. Callimachus seemed to imply that they also be-
gan to cut other trees, but he left the matter uncertain. Aware of the
trespass, Ceres took the form of her priestess and warned the prince to
forbear, lest he incur the wrath of the goddess. Looking fiercely at her,
he threatened her with an axe and replied that her trees were to become
his banquet hall, in which he was going to feast with his companions.
Nemesis recorded the impious words. The goddess resumed her own im-
pressive form. In terror the twenty strong men fled. Ceres spared them,
because they had acted under constraint. She cursed the prince with
many feasts in his hall. Presumably she referred to the hall that Ery-
sichthon already was using, for he could hardly have persisted in his
purpose of building the new one.
The goddess afflicted him with consuming hunger. No matter how
much he ate, he longed for as much again. Twenty persons were needed
to prepare one of his meals. Bacchus, cooperating with Ceres, afflicted
him with such thirst that twelve people were needed to serve him wine.
He ate all varieties of food, feasted for days at a time, and remained
unsatisfied, as if the food had gone into the sea.
Ashamed of his affliction, his parents tried to conceal it by keeping
him within the palace. If anyone asked him to go elsewhere, they de-
clined the invitation with various excuses. The prince wasted away. His
mother, his two sisters, and the handmaids wept for him. His father be-
sought Neptune either to cure his malady or to provide the necessary
food, for already the boy had consumed all the flocks and herds, the
mules, the racehorse and the warhorse, the heifer sacred to Vesta, and
even the cat dreaded by all lesser beasts. Neptune did not help him. Ap-
parently no one thought of trying to placate Ceres. And now the secret
could be kept no longer, for the prince sat by the crossroads begging all
who passed for morsels of food.
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? ERYSICHTHON
Another Alexandrian version of the tale appeared at about the
same time as that of Callimachus. Both the work and the name of its
author now are lost. It described Erysichthon as a man of mature years
and himself a king. The author does not appear to have mentioned any
descent from Neptune' or to have spoken of a mother and sisters.
And apparently he thought of the events as occurring not inland near
Dotium, but somewhere near the coast. He repeated briefly the tradi-
tional account that Erysichthon cut down several trees and that Ceres
punished him with invincible hunger. But he added a new circumstance.
The king had a grown daughter named Hypermnestra (Very Per-
suasive). * When he exhausted other means of getting food, he took ad-
vantage of her peculiar gifts. In many countries witches have been sup-
posed to make a living fraudulently by the following means. They first
metamorphose a human being into a different form, usually that of an
animal, and sell him. Then at some convenient occasion they restore his
original form, take him back, and repeat the process. A similar idea
entered into the tale of Erysichthon, with a twofold reversal of the usual
process. The human being made a living fraudulently by selling the
witch. And the witch was sold in her original form and took an alien
shape in order to return. Hypermnestra made herself attractive to a
prospective purchaser; her father sold her in her own form as a slave;
and at the first opportunity she assumed a strange form and returned
to her father. By such trickery she was able to provide for him. The
Alexandrian author seems to have imagined that she did so for a long
time -- an idea which was very improbable. The power of transforming
herself at will she obtained from Neptune. After ravishing her, the god
had offered it in compensation.
At last the ravenous father sold her to Autolycus. Since the time
of the Iliad he had been described as a superlative thief; and since the
time of the Catalogues he had been notorious for ability to conceal his
thefts by changing the objects beyond recognition. Understanding the
wiles of Hypermnestra, he prevented her escape. The Odyssey had named
Amphithea as the wife of Autolycus, but the Alexandrian author de-
clared that he married Hypermnestra. Deprived of his last resource,
Erysichthon perished.
To this version of the tale several authors made allusion. Lycophron
noted that Erysichthon maintained himself by daily traffic of his daugh-
*The name appeared also as Hypermestra and as the abbreviated forms Mnestra
and Mestra.
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
ter. Ovid in his Ibis spoke of her as taking a thousand shapes. Nicander
observed that on one occasion the girl assumed the form of a man.
In the Metamorphoses Ovid followed the second Alexandrian ver-
sion, but he introduced important ideas from Callimachus and added
much new material. Although he identified Hypermnestra as the wife of
Autolycus and the daughter of Erysichthon, he never mentioned her
name. Following Callimachus, he spoke of her father as a Thessalian,
the son of Triopas; and, following the second Alexandrian author, he
did not record the locality but imagined it as near the coast. Ovid took
an unfavorable view of Erysichthon's character and continually height-
ened the sense of his guilt. Although he usually did this in tales of im-
piety, he may also have had a special reason. Acheloiis, who was telling
the story, might desire to impress more deeply the sceptic Pirithoiis.
Erysichthon, said Ovid, habitually scorned the gods and refused to
make offerings. He even violated a grove sacred to Ceres, felling with the
axe her ancient trees. The idea of his cutting down more than one of
them was in accord with tradition, but was not borne out by Ovid's own
account. Feeling that desire to construct a banquet hall might afford
some excuse, Ovid mentioned no purpose and suggested by the context
that his motive was sheer bravado.
Following Callimachus, Ovid imagined that Erysichthon began with
an especially large and venerable tree. Ovid gave a longer and somewhat
different description of it. Vergil in his Georgics had counseled the
shepherd to rest his flock at noon where some great oak, full of ancient
strength, spread its huge limbs. In the Aeneid, Vergil had likened his
hero to an oak mighty with the strength of many years. Recalling both
passages, Ovid made the tree a huge oak, full of the strength of many
years. * And his idea had the further advantage that oaks were more apt
than poplars to be regarded as sacred trees. Ovid added that the oak
was itself a grove, an expression that he already had applied to the water
lotus in his Epistle of Sappho. Round the trunk hung many evidences of
the tree's sacred character -- fillets, garlands, tablets bearing witness to
answered prayers. Following Callimachus, Ovid noted that dryads often
held festive dances in its shade. He described the size of the tree in terms
at once more moderate and more precise. The oak was nearly twenty-
three feet in circumference and twice the height of the surrounding grove.
This tree the impious man decided to fell. Ovid implied that he
*Vergil's phrases were Magna lovis antiquo robore quercus Ingentis tendat
ramos, and annoso vaUdam cum. robore quercum. Ovid's phrase was vngens annoto
robore querent.
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? ERYSICHTHON
ordered part of his attendants to fasten ropes at suitable places among
the limbs and to pull on them when the oak should be ready to fall. This
done, he ordered the others to begin cutting with axes. They showed re-
luctance to obey. Ovid then profited by a hint from Callimachus. Ac-
cording to the Alexandrian poet, Ceres had appeared in disguise, and
Erysichthon had threatened her with an axe. Ovid thought of the goddess
as residing at a majestic distance, beyond the reach of such direct in-
sult. But he made even more striking the violator's impious intent. Seiz-
ing an axe from one of his followers, Erysichthon declared that he would
cut down the tree, even if it were the goddess herself.
At this point Ovid introduced a new idea. It grew out of many be-
liefs which savages have held regarding trees. Most savage peoples have
imagined them as the residence of supernatural beings, who could enter
or leave at will. The early Greeks thought of these beings as nymphs
called dryads or hamadryads. In accord with this idea both Callimachus
and Ovid had spoken of dryads dancing under the sacred tree. If it
should be necessary to cut down the residence of such a being, savages
felt that its owner ought to be compensated with another residence.
Usually they regarded the matter as easy to arrange. It sufficed to lay
on the stump a twig of some other tree.
Many savage peoples thought it prudent also to give the tree spirit
warning in advance and to offer an urgent reason for taking his resi-
dence. When possible, they thought it well also to put the responsibility
elsewhere. The native of Java was careful to read a spurious proclama-
tion from the Dutch government ordering destruction of the tree. Neglect
of such precautions might result in the guilty person's dying from ven-
geance of the offended spirit.
Savage peoples have imagined sometimes that spirits inhabiting
trees are inseparable from them and would perish if the tree should die.
Both in China and in Europe, peasants have declared that, if certain
trees are injured, they lament and utter words of protest. This idea of
inherent spirits occurred often in Greek literature. The Homeric Hymn
to Venus noted that dryads of Mt. Ida perish with their oaks and pines.
Callimachus in his Hymn to Delos discussed the dependence of nymphs
on their oak trees. And Ovid in the Fasti repeated a tradition that
Cybele destroyed a certain hamadryad by cutting down her tree.
Apollonius told a more elaborate story of this kind. The father of
a certain Paraebius, he said, was felling trees on a mountain of Thrace.
He came to an oak inhabited by a dryad. She wept and besought him to
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? METAMORPHOSES -- BOOK EIGHT
spare the tree on which she had relied through all the years of her long
life. He disregarded her plea, and before dying she punished him with a
curse. As a result of it, both the offender and his children had to toil for
their living, and they continually toiled harder and fared worse. At last
the seer Phineus taught Paraebius how to obtain relief by due prayer
and sacrifice. Ovid decided to bring a similar incident into the tale of
Erysichthon. He imagined the presence of a dryad whose life should end
with the fall of the sacred tree, and he planned to have her lay a similar
curse on her destroyer.
But he decided to enhance the effect with still another idea. In many
countries men have thought that a spirit inhabiting a tree is so nearly
identical with it that, if the tree should be cut or broken, the injured
place would bleed. In the Aeneid, Vergil used the idea with striking effect.
The spirit of Polydorus had entered into a thicket of cornels and myrtles
that sprouted on his grave. When Aeneas began pulling up the stems,
blood dripped from the torn roots and bark. When he cautiously per-
sisted, Polydorus groaned beneath the earth, protested, and told Aeneas
who it was. Ovid planned to imitate the incident, adding further detail.
As Erysichthon raised the axe to strike, the great oak trembled
and groaned. Pallor spread through its leaves and all the length of its
branches. As the steel cut into the trunk, blood gushed forth, as freely
as if a priest had cut through the neck of a huge sacrificial bull. All the
attendants were aghast. One of them even ventured to interfere. Ery-
sichthon scornfully cut off his head. Then, as the impious man struck
repeated blows, the dryad spoke within the tree, declaring herself a
nymph loved by Ceres and warning him that vengeance was to follow her
death. Still he persisted in the crime. If Erysichthon intended to fell an
oak of such dimensions -- seven feet in diameter, he probably would have
done some preliminary work with the axe and then called for a saw. It
seems unlikely that he would have attempted to cut down the tree with an
axe and incredible that he could have finished the task in a single period
of work. But Ovid assumed the contrary. Weakened by persistent cut-
ting and pulled by the ropes, the tree crashed down, overwhelming a
wide stretch of the surrounding grove.
Ovid imagined that during these tragic events Ceres was absent and
unaware of the sacrilege. He implied later that she was in some other
part of Thessaly. The dryads, clad in mourning, went to her and prayed
for redress. In the tale of Lycaon (Bk. 1), Ovid had spoken of Jupiter
as moving earth and sky when he shook his head. He now observed that
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