Metamorphoses Book 8, lines 637 - 678

Philemon and Baucis

Array

In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the hero Theseus, his dear friend Pirithoüs and others have just hunted the fearsome Calydonian boar, a great exploit, but one which has had a dark outcome of conflict, death and disaster. Some of the survivors are travelling home, when their way is barred by the river Acheloüs in flood. The river God himself invites them to wait in his cavern, lined with moss and with shell-work on its walls. The company are exchanging stories. Pirithoüs has just shocked the others by doubting the Gods’ ability to alter the shapes of people and things, and Lelex, a wise, older companion, now corrects him by telling the story of Philemon and Baucis.

Jupiter and Mercury, says Lelex, came to Earth in disguise and looked for hospitality. All the houses in the neighbourhood closed their doors against them, until they came to the cottage of Philemon and Baucis, an old couple and the poorest of the poor.

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“Ergo ubi caelicolae parvos tetigere penates
submissoque humiles intrarunt vertice postes,
membra senex posito iussit relevare sedili,
quo superiniecit textum rude sedula Baucis.
inque foco tepidum cinerem dimovit et ignes
suscitat hesternos foliisque et cortice sicco
nutrit et ad flammas anima producit anili.
multifidasque faces ramaliaque arida tecto
detulit et minuit parvoque admovit aeno.
quodque suus coniunx riguo conlegerat horto,
truncat holus foliis; furca levat ille bicorni
sordida terga suis nigro pendentia tigno
servatoque diu resecat de tergore partem
exiguam sectamque domat ferventibus undis.
interea medias fallunt sermonibus horas
sentirique moram prohibent. erat alveus illic
fagineus, dura clavo suspensus ab ansa.
is tepidis inpletur aquis artusque fovendos
accipit. in medio torus est de mollibus ulvis,
inpositus lecto sponda pedibusque salignis.
vestibus hunc velant, quas non nisi tempore festo
sternere consuerant: sed et haec vilisque vetusque
vestis erat, lecto non indignanda saligno.
Accubuere dei. Mensam succincta tremensque
ponit anus, mensae sed erat pes tertius impar.
testa parem fecit. quae postquam subdita clivum
sustulit, aequatam mentae tersere virentes.
ponitur hic bicolor sincerae baca Minervae
conditaque in liquida corna autumnalia faece
intibaque et radix et lactis massa coacti
ovaque non acri leviter versata favilla,
omnia fictilibus. post haec caelatus eodem
sistitur argento crater fabricataque fago
pocula, qua cava sunt, flaventibus inlita ceris.
parva mora est, epulasque foci misere calentes,
nec longae rursus referuntur vina senectae
dantque locum mensis paulum seducta secundis.
hic nux, hic mixta est rugosis carica palmis
prunaque et in patulis redolentia mala canistris
et de purpureis conlectae vitibus uvae.
candidus in medio favus est. super omnia vultus
accessere boni nec iners pauperque voluntas.”

“So when the Gods reached the little dwelling, and ducked their heads to enter the humble doorway, old Philemon places a seat for them and invites them to rest themselves, and the attentive Baucis threw a rough cloth over it. Then she pokes up the tepid ashes on the hearth and revives the previous day’s fire, feeding it with leaves and dry bark, and coaxes it into flame with her poor old breath. She brought down finely-split kindling and dry twigs from the roof, breaking them still smaller, and put the fire to her little pot. Then she trims a cabbage, which her husband had picked from their well-watered garden, of its leaves. With a two-pronged fork, Philemon takes down a blackened flitch of bacon, that they had saved for so long and which hung from the sooty beam, and from it he carves a little piece and blanches it in the simmering water. All the while, they beguile the passing time with their talk and prevent it dragging. There was a basin of beech-wood hanging by its stout handle from a nail: it is filled with water, and receives and solaces the guests’ tired limbs. Onto the middle of the couch, supported by its frame and willow-wood feet, they put a cushion of yielding sedge. This they cover with draperies, which they used never to use except on high days and holidays, but even so they were old, cheap cloth, not unworthy of a willow bed! The Gods reclined. Shakily, her dress hitched up, the old lady brings a table: one of its three legs was too short, but she evened it up with a piece of pot. When that was in place and countering the slope, she wiped the levelled surface with fresh mint. On it are placed truthful Minerva’s olives, both green and black, autumn cornel berries pickled in wine-lees, endive, radish, milk-curds and eggs lightly turned in ashes that are not too hot, everything served on earthenware. After these, a decorated wine-bowl of the same “silver” is set up, and hollowed beech-wood cups, the insides spread with golden beeswax. A short pause, and the hearth sent out its piping-hot food, more wine, of no very great age, is served, then moved aside to make a little space for the second course. Here are nuts, here are dried figs mixed with wrinkled dates, plums, sweet-smelling apples in broad baskets and bunches of purple grapes gathered from the vine. In the middle is a glossy honeycomb. Everything comes accompanied by kindly faces, and goodwill which is neither clumsy nor poor.”

To be continued

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