LES MÉTAMORPHOSES D'OVIDE
Les Métamorphoses traduites d'Ovide en vers françois, avec le texte à côté
Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid) • translated by L.-Ch.- C. Mathey de Massilian
Cuchet, Nyon, Belin & Lesclapart • Paris • 1784 • First Edition
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 2
Before the sea and the lands, and the sky which covers all things, there was one appearance of nature throughout the whole world, which they called Chaos: a rough and unordered mass; nothing except inert weight, and heaped together in the same place the discordant seeds of things not properly joined. As yet no Titan gave light to the world; nor did Phoebe, growing anew, restore her horns; nor did the earth hang in the surrounding air, balanced by its own weight; nor had Amphitrite stretched her arms along the distant margins of the lands. Wherever there was earth, there also were sea and air: thus the earth could not be stood upon, the waters could not be sailed, and the air was without light. No form remained its own. One thing opposed another, because within a single body cold fought with hot, wet with dry, soft with hard, and weightless things with things possessing weight.
A god and a better nature brought an end to this conflict. For he separated the earth from the heavens, and the waters from the earth, and distinguished the clear heaven from the dense air. After he had disentangled these things and drawn them from the blind heap, he bound the separated elements in their places with harmonious peace.
FROM CHAOS, ORDER
Ovid opens before the world has taken recognizable form. Creation begins as a process of divine organization, establishing distinct realms of heaven, earth, water, and air from an undifferentiated state. The ordered world that follows becomes the setting for the creation of humanity.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 6
There he ordered mists to gather, there the clouds, and thunder to disturb human minds, and winds that produce cold together with lightning. The maker of the world did not permit these winds to possess the air indiscriminately.... Above these he placed the clear ether, lacking weight and containing nothing of earthly substance. Scarcely had he separated all things within fixed boundaries when the stars, which had long lain hidden beneath that mass, began to shine throughout the whole heaven. And so that no region should be without its living beings, the stars and forms of the gods occupied the celestial ground; the waters became the dwelling place of shining fish; the earth received the beasts; the moving air, the birds. A creature more sacred than these, capable of a higher mind, was still lacking—one that could rule over the others. Man was born: whether the maker of things, the origin of a better world, made him from divine seed...
HUMANITY AND THE DIVINE SEED
With the universe now populated, Ovid turns to humanity as the final creation. Humans are distinguished from other creatures by a higher capacity of mind, while their origin is introduced with the possibility of divine seed. The ordered cosmos now has a being given a unique place within it.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 8
…the maker of things, the origin of a better world; or the newly formed earth, only recently separated from the lofty ether, still retained the seeds of its kindred heaven. The son of Iapetus [Prometheus], mixing this earth with river water, fashioned it into the likeness of the gods who govern all things. And while the other animals, bent downward, look toward the earth, he gave man an uplifted face and ordered him to look toward heaven, and to raise his countenance upright toward the stars. Thus the earth, which had lately been rough and without form, was transformed and clothed itself in previously unknown human shapes. First was born the Golden Age, which, with no avenger, of its own accord, without law, cultivated faith and righteousness. Punishment and fear were absent.... There were no helmets, no sword; without the use of soldiers, the peoples lived secure in gentle peace....
HUMANITY SHAPED FROM HEAVEN AND EARTH
Ovid offers a second origin for humanity: Prometheus shapes man from earth still carrying the seed of heaven, forming humanity in the likeness of the gods and directing its gaze toward the stars.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 10
The peoples passed their time in gentle security. The earth herself also, free from obligation, untouched by the hoe and wounded by no ploughshare, gave everything of herself. Content with food produced without compulsion, they gathered the fruit of the strawberry tree, mountain strawberries, cornel cherries, blackberries clinging to thorny brambles, and acorns fallen from Jupiter’s spreading tree. Spring was eternal, and gentle Zephyrs with warm breezes caressed flowers born without seed. Soon the unploughed earth also bore crops, and the unrenewed field grew white with heavy ears of grain. Rivers flowed now with milk, now with nectar, and golden honey dripped from the green oak. After Saturn had been sent into dark Tartarus, the world was under Jupiter. The race of silver followed, inferior to gold, more precious than yellow bronze. Jupiter shortened the duration of the ancient spring and divided the year into winters, summers, unequal autumns, and a brief spring.... Then houses were first entered.... Then seeds of Ceres were first buried in long furrows, and young bullocks groaned beneath the pressing yoke. Third after these came the race of bronze...
THE WORLD CHANGES UNDER JUPITER
The effortless abundance of the Golden Age ends when Jupiter takes rule of the world. The Silver Age brings seasons, shelter, cultivation and labor, followed by the emergence of the Bronze race. Ovid’s decline of humanity has begun.
Reader’s Note: Ovid uses the Roman names of the gods. Jupiter (also Jove) is the Roman counterpart of the Greek Zeus. Throughout this section, references to Jupiter or Jove therefore correspond to Zeus in the Greek tradition.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 12
Fiercer in nature and readier for savage arms, yet not altogether wicked. Last came the age of hard iron. Immediately every crime burst forth into this age of baser nature. Modesty, truth, and faith fled; in their place came fraud and deceit, treachery, violence, and criminal desire for possession. The sailor gave his sails to winds he scarcely knew, and ships that had long stood upon high mountains leapt upon unknown waves. The cautious surveyor marked with long boundaries the ground that until then had been held in common, like sunlight and air. Nor were the rich crops and nourishment owed by the earth enough; men entered the very bowels of the earth, and riches hidden near the shades of Styx were dug out—incitements to evil. Now harmful iron, and gold more harmful than iron, had appeared. War appeared, which fights with both, and shakes clashing weapons in bloodstained hands. Men live by plunder. A guest is not safe from his host, nor a father-in-law from his son-in-law; even affection between brothers is rare. The husband plots the death of his wife, she that of her husband. Terrible stepmothers mix deadly poisons; the son inquires into his father’s years before their time. Piety lies vanquished...
HUMANITY FALLS INTO VIOLENCE
The decline reaches the Iron Age. Ovid describes a humanity consumed by deceit, greed, violence and war. Social bonds collapse alongside moral restraint, pushing the human world toward the condition that will provoke divine judgment.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 14
Last of the heavenly ones, Astraea abandoned the blood-soaked earth. And lest the lofty ether be safer than the lands, they say that the Giants sought possession of the heavenly kingdom, and piled mountains, heaped together, up to the lofty stars. Then the almighty Father, hurling his thunderbolt, shattered Olympus and struck Pelion down from Ossa beneath it. When those dreadful bodies lay buried beneath their own structure, they say the Earth, drenched and soaked with the abundant blood of her sons, became warm and gave that blood life, and, lest no trace of her offspring should remain, turned it into the form of men. But that offspring also despised the gods above, was most greedy for savage slaughter, and was violent: you would know they were born from blood. When the son of Saturn, the Father, saw this from the highest citadel, he groaned; and recalling the foul feast at Lycaon’s table— a deed recent and not yet widely known— he conceived in his mind a great wrath worthy of Jupiter, and summoned a council. No delay held those summoned.
A VIOLENT HUMANITY DRAWS JUPITER’S WRATH
A new human race emerges from the blood of the defeated Giants and inherits their violence and contempt for the gods. Jupiter observes this from above, recalls Lycaon’s crime, and responds with great anger by summoning the divine council.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 16
The halls of the nobles are thronged through open doors; the common gods dwell in different places. At the front, the powerful and illustrious heavenly gods established their household gods. This is the place which, if boldness may be allowed the words, I would not fear to call the great palace of heaven. Therefore, when the gods above had taken their seats in the marble chamber, Jupiter himself, higher in place, leaning upon his ivory sceptre, shook three and four times the terrible locks of his head, by which he moved earth, sea, and stars. Then he opened his indignant mouth with these words: “I was not more anxious for the sovereignty of the world at that time when each serpent-footed Giant was preparing to cast his hundred arms upon captive heaven. For although the enemy was fierce, that war nevertheless depended upon one body and one origin. Now the mortal race must be destroyed, wherever Nereus sounds around the whole world. I swear by the rivers of the underworld that flow beneath the earth through the Stygian grove: everything has first been attempted; but the incurable wound must be cut away with the sword, lest the healthy part be infected.”
JUPITER DECIDES HUMANITY’S DESTRUCTION
The gods gather in the palace of heaven, where Jupiter declares humanity is beyond salvation. The violence that started with the Giants' blood has become an “incurable wound,” and Jupiter now openly orders the destruction of the mortal race.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 18
All murmured their assent, and with eager zeal demanded such things. Thus, when an impious hand raged to extinguish the Roman name with Caesar’s blood, the human race was stunned by the terror of sudden ruin, and the whole world shuddered. Nor was the devotion of your people less pleasing to you, Augustus, than that of the gods was to Jupiter. When he had restrained their murmuring with voice and hand, all kept silence. When the uproar had subsided beneath the authority of their ruler, Jupiter again broke the silence with these words: “He indeed has paid the penalty—set aside your concern. But I shall teach you what crime was committed, and what vengeance followed. The infamy of the age had reached my ears. Wishing it to be false, I descended from highest Olympus, and, a god beneath human appearance, wandered the earth. It would take too long to recount how much wickedness was found everywhere. The report itself was less than the truth. I had crossed Maenalus, dreadful with the lairs of beasts, and the pinewoods of cold Lycaeus with Cyllene. From there I entered the dwelling and inhospitable house of the Arcadian tyrant as late twilight drew on toward night. I gave signs that a god had come, and the people began to pray...”
JUPITER DESCENDS TO TEST HUMANITY
Jupiter reveals that reports of the era’s corruption were less severe than the reality. He descends from Olympus disguised as a human to see it firsthand, eventually entering Lycaon’s house and revealing signs of his divinity.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 20
Lycaon mocked their pious prayers. “I shall test,” he said, “by a clear trial whether this is a god or a mortal; nor shall the truth be doubtful.” At night, while I was heavy with sleep, he prepared to destroy me by an unexpected death: this was the test of truth that pleased him. Not content with this, he cut the throat with a blade of one hostage sent from the Molossian people; some of the still-quivering limbs he softened in boiling water, and others he roasted over the fire. As soon as he placed them upon the tables, I, with avenging flame, brought the house down upon its master and the household gods worthy of him. Terrified, he fled; reaching the silent countryside, he howled and tried in vain to speak. His mouth gathered savagery from himself, and with his accustomed desire for slaughter he turned against the flocks; even now he rejoices in blood. His clothes became hair; his arms became legs. He became a wolf, yet retained traces of his former shape: the same grey hair, the same violence in his face, the same eyes blazing, the same image of savagery. One house has fallen; but more than one house deserved to perish. Wherever the earth extends, the savage Fury reigns. You would think they had sworn themselves to crime. Let them all quickly suffer the punishments they have deserved: thus stands my sentence.”
FROM LYCAON TO ALL HUMANITY
Lycaon’s attempt at murder and human sacrifice confirms the corruption Jupiter observed across the earth. After punishing him, Jupiter declares that evil goes far beyond one household and issues judgment upon all who deserve the same fate.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 22
The gods approve Jupiter’s words with their voices and add fuel to his anger with their assent. Yet the destruction of the human race is a grief to them all, and they ask what form the earth will have, deprived of mortals; who will bring incense to the altars? Whether he intends to surrender the lands to the ravaging beasts? As they ask such things, the king of the gods forbids them to fear, for the rest would be his concern; and he promises an offspring unlike the former people, of a wondrous origin. And now he was preparing to scatter thunderbolts over all the earth; but he feared that perhaps the sacred ether might catch fire from so many flames and the long axis of heaven burn. He also remembered that it was written in the Fates that a time would come when sea, earth, and the seized palace of heaven would burn, and the structure of the world would labor in peril. The weapons forged by the hands of the Cyclopes are put aside. A different punishment is chosen: to destroy the mortal race beneath the waves and send down rainstorms from the whole sky. Immediately he shuts Aquilo in the caves of Aeolus, together with whatever winds drive away the gathered clouds, and releases Notus....
THE FLOOD DECREED
The gods wonder what will remain if humanity vanishes. Jupiter assures them that another people will follow. Born from a wondrous origin, then choosing destruction by fire, they instead opt for the Flood: the mortal race will be destroyed beneath water sent down from the sky.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 24
There is a crash, and from the dense ether the rains pour down. Iris, Juno’s messenger, clothed in many colors, draws up the waters and supplies nourishment to the clouds. The crops are beaten down, and the farmer’s hopes lie ruined; the long labor of the year perishes in vain. Nor is Jupiter’s anger content with his own sky: his blue brother [Neptune] aids him with supporting waters. He summons the rivers.... “Now,” he says, “you must exert your strength. Open your dwellings, remove the barriers, and give your rivers entirely free rein.” He commanded; they returned, opened the mouths of their springs, and rushed in unrestrained course toward the seas. Neptune himself struck the earth with his trident. It trembled, and by its movement opened passages for the waters. The rivers overflowed and rushed across the open plains, carrying away trees and crops together, livestock and men, houses and their household shrines. If any house remained and could withstand so great a disaster, nevertheless the higher waters covered its roof, and towers disappeared beneath the flood. Now there was no distinction between sea and land. Everything was sea; even the sea had no shores. One man occupies a hill; another sits in a curved boat and rows where he had lately ploughed. Another sails above his crops or the roof of his submerged villa; another catches a fish in the top of an elm.
THE WORLD BECOMES SEA
Jupiter’s rain is joined by Neptune, who releases the rivers and opens the earth to the waters. The Flood sweeps away people, animals, homes and crops until the boundary between land and sea disappears entirely.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 26
An anchor catches in a green meadow, if chance allows; or curved ships graze vineyards lying beneath them. And where slender goats had lately cropped the grass, now misshapen seals place their bodies. The Nereids marvel beneath the water at groves, cities, and houses. Dolphins possess the forests, strike against the high branches, and shake the oaks as they move. The wolf swims among the sheep; the wave carries tawny lions; the wave carries tigers. The boar’s strength is of no use, nor do swift legs benefit the deer once swept away. And after searching long for land where it might rest, the wandering bird falls into the sea on exhausted wings. The boundless license of the sea had covered the hills, and unfamiliar waves beat against the mountain peaks. The greatest part is swept away by the water; those whom the water spared are overcome by prolonged hunger through lack of food. Phocis separates the Aonian from the Actaean lands, a fertile land while it was land, but at that time a part of the sea and a broad plain of sudden waters. There Mount Parnassus rises steeply toward the stars with two peaks, its summit extending above the clouds. Here Deucalion, carried in a small vessel with his companion, came to rest—for the sea had covered all the rest. They worshipped the Corycian nymphs, the divinities of the mountain, and prophetic Themis, who then possessed the oracle.
DEUCALION AND PYRRHA SURVIVE
The Flood overwhelms even the mountains, while those not taken by the water perish from hunger. Deucalion and Pyrrha alone reach Mount Parnassus in a small vessel, where they turn to the divine powers as the world lies submerged around them.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 28
No man was better than he, nor more devoted to justice; no woman more reverent toward the gods. When Jupiter saw the world flooded with standing waters, and saw that of so many thousands only one man remained, and of so many thousands only one woman remained, both innocent, both worshippers of the divine, he scattered the clouds; and with Aquilo removing the rainstorms, he revealed the lands to heaven and the heavens to the lands. Nor does the anger of the sea remain. The ruler of the deep, laying aside his three-pronged weapon, calms the waters and summons blue Triton.... He orders him to blow upon the resounding shell and, by the given signal, recall the waves and rivers.... It was heard by all the waters of earth and sea, and wherever it was heard, it restrained them all. Now the sea has a shore; the rivers are contained within their channels. The streams subside; the hills appear to rise. The ground emerges; places increase as the waters diminish.... The world was restored. When Deucalion saw it empty, and the desolate lands keeping a profound silence, he addressed Pyrrha with tears welling up: “O sister, O wife, O woman, sole survivor...”
THE RIGHTEOUS PAIR REMAIN
Jupiter finds only Deucalion and Pyrrha remaining from thousands, and their innocence and devotion set them apart from the humanity he condemned. The Flood is withdrawn and the world is restored, leaving the pair alone on a silent, depopulated Earth.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 32
“And thus, if by righteous prayers,” they said, “the divine powers are overcome, if the anger of the gods can be bent, tell us, Themis, by what art the loss of our race may be repaired; and, most gentle one, bring aid to a drowned world.” The goddess was moved and gave this oracle: “Depart from the temple; veil your heads; loosen your girded garments; and cast behind your backs the bones of your great mother.” For a long time they stood amazed. Pyrrha first broke the silence, refusing to obey the goddess’s command, and with fearful lips begged forgiveness, dreading to offend her mother’s shade by scattering her bones. Meanwhile they reconsidered the obscure words of the oracle, turning them over between themselves. Then the son of Prometheus soothed the daughter of Epimetheus with gentle words: “Either our understanding deceives us, or the oracle is righteous and counsels no crime. The great mother is the earth; I believe the stones within the body of the earth are called her bones. These we are commanded to cast behind our backs.”
HUMANITY IS TO BE REBUILT FROM THE EARTH
After the destruction of the original human race, Deucalion and Pyrrha search for a way to bring it back. Themis guides them to the earth itself: its stones are seen as the “bones” of the great mother, establishing the material from which humanity will be reborn.
DIRECT TRANSLATION — Latin, Book I, p. 34
They descend, veil their heads, loosen their garments, and cast the commanded stones behind their steps. The stones—who would believe it, unless antiquity stood as witness?—began to lose their hardness and rigidity; gradually they softened, and once softened, began to take form. Soon, when they had grown and a gentler nature had touched them, something resembling human form could be seen, though not yet clearly; rather, like figures begun in marble, not yet sufficiently finished and very much like rough-hewn images. Whatever part of them was moist with some fluid and earthy became flesh. What was solid and unable to bend was changed into bone. What had been a vein remained under the same name. And in a short time, by the gift of the gods, the stones cast by the hands of the man assumed the appearance of men; and from the woman’s casting, woman was restored. From this we are a hardy race, experienced in toil, and we give evidence of the origin from which we were born.
HUMANITY IS CREATED AGAIN
The restoration is completed through a second formation of humanity. Stones taken from the earth soften into flesh and bone, becoming men and women through divine agency. Ovid’s sequence has now moved from humanity’s creation, through corruption and divine destruction, to the emergence of a replacement human race.
