Book Eight: Ovid: Metamorphoses - Book VIII (Lines 1-60)
Book Eight: Ovid: Metamorphoses - Book VIII (Lines 1-60)
Book Eight: Ovid: Metamorphoses - Book VIII (Lines 1-60)
Now Lucifer dispelling night, and unveiling shining day, the east wind dropped, and rain clouds gathered.
The mild south wind, gave Cephalus and the Aeacides safe return, bringing them, more quickly than they
expected, to the harbour they steered for, by its favourable action. Meanwhile Minos was laying waste the
coast of Megara, and testing his military strength against the city of Alcathoüs, where Nisus ruled, who had a
bright lock of purple hair, on the crown of his head, amongst his distinguished grey tresses, that guaranteed
the safety of his kingdom.
The horns of a new moon had risen six times and the fortunes of war still hung in the balance, so
protractedly did Victory hover between the two, on hesitant wings. There was a tower of the king, added to
walls of singing stone, where Apollo, Latona’s son, once rested his golden lyre, and the sound resonated in
the rock. In days of peace, Scylla, the daughter of King Nisus, often used to climb up there, and make the
stones ring using small pebbles. In wartime also she would often watch the unyielding armed conflicts from
there, and now, as the war dragged on, she had come to know the names of the hostile princes, their weapons,
horses, armour and Cretan quivers. Above all she came to know the face of their leader, Europa’s son, more
than was fitting.
If he covered his head with a plumed helmet, she thought him handsome in a helmet. If he carried his
shining bronze shield, a shield became him well. When he hurled his heavy spear, with taut limbs, the girl
admired his strength combined with skill. When he bent the broad arc of his bow, with a flight notched in it,
she swore that it was Phoebus Apollo, standing there, with his arrow ready. But when he exposed his face,
free of the bronze, and when, clothed in purple, he took to horseback, his white horse conspicuous with its
embroidered trappings, and he controlled its foaming bit, Nisus’s daughter was scarcely in control of herself,
scarcely in a rational frame of mind. Happy the spear he held, she said, and happy the reins he lifted in his
hand. Her impulse was to run, though only a girl, and if it had been allowed, through the enemy lines; her
impulse was to throw herself from the top of the tower into the Cretan camp, to open the bronze gates to their
army, or anything else Minos might wish.
As she sat gazing at the white tents of the Dictaean king, she said ‘I am not sure whether I should show joy
or grief at this miserable war. I grieve because Minos is the enemy of one who loves him, but if there had
been no war, he would never have been known to me! If he accepted me as a hostage he could abandon the
war: he would have me as his companion, me as a pledge of peace. If she, who gave birth to you, most
handsome of kings, was as beautiful as you are, no wonder the god was on fire for her. O I would be three
times happy if I could take wing, through the air, and stand in the camp of the Cretan king, and reveal
myself, and my love, and ask what dowry he would need to win me: so long as he does not demand my
country’s stronghold! Rather let my hopes of marriage die, than that I be capable of betrayal! - Though often
many have found it better to be defeated, if a peace-loving conqueror showed clemency. Indeed he wages a
just war because of his murdered son: his cause is powerful, and the arms that support his cause. Then, I
think we will be conquered. And if that is the end that awaits the city, why should his strength breach these
walls of mine, rather than my love?
It would be better for him to win, without slaughter, or delay, and without the shedding of his own blood.
At least I would not be afraid lest someone inadvertently wound your breast, Minos: for who would be so
cruel as to venture to aim his throw at you, unless he was careless? The idea pleases me, and I am firm in my
decision to deliver myself to you, with my country as my dowry, and so put an end to war. But, it is not
enough merely to want it! There is a guard watching the entrance, and my father holds the keys of the gate. I
only fear through him I might be unlucky: only he hinders my wishes. Would that the gods had devised
things so that I had no father! Surely everyone is their own god: Fortune rejects idle wishes. Another girl,
fired with as great a passion as mine, would, long ago, have destroyed anything that stood in the way of her
love. And why should another be braver than I am? I would dare to go through fire and sword: but there is no
need here to brave fire or sword: I need one lock of my father’s hair. That is more precious than gold to me,
that purple lock of hair will bless me, and let me achieve my desire.
Summary
Minos attacks the city of Alcathous, which is ruled by Nisus. During the siege, Scylla, the daughter of Nisus,
falls in love with Minos. She scalps her father to give his power, contained in a lock of purple hair, to Minos.
Minos is horrified by her betrayal. He decides to impose the fairest terms on the defeated city, and he leaves.
Scylla angrily purses Minos’s ship but is thwarted by her father, Nisus, who is now an osprey. Scylla turns
into a bird. Back in Crete, Minos orders Daedalus to build a labyrinth to conceal the Minotaur, the shameful
product of a union between Minos’s mother and a bull. Daedalus complies but is not happy to be in exile. He
builds wings so that he and his son, Icarus, may fly away. Icarus flies too close to the sun, the wax that holds
the wings together melts, and Icarus falls to his death.
After Theseus’s victory over the Minotaur, his fame spreads, and the Calydonians appeal to him for help in
slaughtering a boar that has terrorized their land. Many exalted heroes join the hunt for the boar, but the
chase goes badly. Echion wounds a maple tree, Jason overshoots, Nestor has to pole-vault to escape death by
pig, and Telamon trips over a root. At last a women warrior, Atalanta, grazes the boar’s back. Meleager deals
the death blow, but he wants the honor of the hunt to go to Atalanta. This angers the men, especially the
uncles of Meleager—Plexippus and Toxeus. After a fight, Meleager kills his two uncles. Althaea, Meleager’s
mother, is outraged by the death of her brothers. She remembers an old prophecy that as long as a certain log
is not consumed by fire, Meleager will live. After debating what to do, Althaea decides to throw the log into
the fire. As the log burns, Meleager’s life fades away.
On his way to Athens, Theseus stays with Achelous. They men share several stories of metamorphoses.
Achelous says that the islands in the distance used to be naiads. He transformed them as punishment for
failing to invite him to a banquet. Pirithous, one of Theseus’s men, is skeptical about the story. Lexes, an
older man, tells a story about Jupiter and Mercury assuming human disguise. They knocked on a thousand
doors, and everyone turned them away except Baucis and Philemon, who, despite their poverty, offered the
disguised gods food and drink. When the wine failed to run out, they realized who their guests were. Jupiter
and Mercury granted them their wish to be priests of Jupiter and to live and die together.
Achelous tells a story about Erysichthon, a man with no regard for the gods. He chopped down a sacred tree
for no reason, persisting even when the tree groaned in pain. Ceres called on Hunger to strike him. A
powerful urge to eat gripped Erysichthon. He sold his daughter into slavery to pay for more food and
eventually consumed mouthfuls of his own flesh, killing himself.
Analysis
The Metamorphoses almost never depicts love affairs or loving relationships that end happily. Rather, Ovid
argues that love creates great pain. His character Scylla suffers the torment of unfulfilled love, or as one
scholar puts it, “frustrated female libido.” Althaea’s familial love puts her between her son, Meleager, and
her brothers. Both Scylla and Althaea find themselves pulled in two directions by love. Moreover, they must
choose only one course of action. For Scylla, the correct path is clear, but she does not take it. Instead, love
leads her to scalp her father in a wild bid to gain the favor of Minos. Althaea, in contrast, has no obvious
course of action. She loves both her son, Meleager, and her slain brothers. However, love for her brothers
(and the familiar thirst for revenge) leads her to kill Meleager.
With the story of Daedalus, Ovid develops the theme of the power of art. We have seen that art enables
artists to express themselves, communicate, and relieve their pain. In this book, Daedalus demonstrates art’s
nearly magical properties. By deploying his creative powers, Daedalus accomplishes the impossible. He
masters land, sea, and air—in a word, he masters nature. However, Ovid stresses that art is as dangerous as it
is powerful. Those who use it without mastery may harm themselves and others. Icarus, for example, does
not understand his father’s creation, and as a result he plummets to a watery death. Even a master may be
hurt by his creations. While Daedalus saves himself, he still loses his son. His art is the cause of his broken
heart.
Ovid invites us to assume that the boar hunt, which marks the center of the Metamorphoses, will be a grand
set piece. The list of heroes participating in the hunt suggests that impressive feats will be performed.
However, in a reversal typical of Ovid, the hunt turns out to be a farce. The heroes may have great
reputations, but they are comically bad at hunting. The only person with a modicum of skill is Atalanta, a
woman hunter, who barely wounds the boar. Another reversal occurs when the honor of the hunt, a
traditionally male prize, goes to Atalanta.
The final set of stories in Book VIII tackles the theme of reward and punishment. The gods reward Baucis
and Philemon for their piety and punish Erysichthon for his impiety. On a deeper level, the rewards and
punishments meted out are merely extensions, and exaggerations, of the characters’ lives. Baucis and
Philemon are given the honor of being priests of Jupiter, but they are already acting as priests might, living
existences characterized by piety and hospitality. They ask to be together in life and death, but again, that
unity is something they already enjoy. They ask for and receive what they already possess. The same is true
of Erysichthon. He has an insatiable appetite for destruction, as evidenced by his cruel murder of the sacred
tree. His punishment merely literalizes that appetite and eventually turns it inward.