Met. 10.652Signa tubae dederant, cum carcere prōnus uterque
ēmicat et summam celerī pede lībat harēnam.The trumpets had given the signal, when each of them darts headlong from the starting-gate and skims the surface of the sand with swift foot. Met. 10.654Posse putēs illōs siccō freta rādere passū
655et segetis cānae stantēs percurrere aristās.You would think they could graze the sea with dry step and run over the standing ears of white corn. Met. 10.656Adiciunt animōs iuvenī clamorque favorque
verbaque dīcentum: "Nunc, nunc incumbere tempus!The shouting and the cheering and the words of those calling out add spirit to the young man: "Now, now is the time to press on! Met. 10.658Hippomenē, properā!Hippomenes, hurry! Met. 10.658nunc vīribus ūtere tōtīs!now use all your strength! Met. 10.659pelle moram, vincēs!"Away with delay, you will win!" Met. 10.659Dubium, Megareius hērōs
660gaudeat, an virgō magis hīs Schoeneia dictīs.It is doubtful whether the Megarean hero or Schoeneus' maiden daughter rejoices more at these words. Met. 10.661Ō quotiēns, cum iam posset trānsīre, morāta est
spectātōsque diū vultūs invīta relīquit!Oh, how often, when she could already have passed him, did she linger, and unwillingly leave behind the face she had long gazed on!
Met. 10.663Āridus ē lassō veniēbat anhēlitus ōre,
mētaque erat longē.Dry panting came from his weary mouth, and the turning-post was far away. Met. 10.664Tum dēnique dē tribus ūnum
665fētibus arboreīs prōlēs Neptūnia mīsit.Then at last Neptune's descendant threw one of the three fruits of the tree. Met. 10.666Obstipuit virgō, nitidīque cupīdine pōmī
dēclīnat cursūs aurumque volūbile tollit.The maiden was astonished, and, in her desire for the gleaming fruit, turns aside from her course and picks up the rolling gold. Met. 10.668Praeterit Hippomenēs!Hippomenes passes her! Met. 10.668Resonant spectācula plausū.The stands resound with applause. Met. 10.669Illa moram celerī cessātaque tempora cursū
670corrigit atque iterum iuvenem post terga relinquit.She makes up for the delay and the time lost with a swift run, and again leaves the young man behind her back. Met. 10.671Et rūrsus pōmī iactū remorāta secundī
cōnsequitur trānsitque virum.And, delayed again by the throw of the second apple, she catches up and passes the man. Met. 10.672Pars ultima cursūs
restābat;The last part of the course remained; Met. 10.673"nunc" inquit "ades, dea mūneris auctor!""Now," he says, "be with me, goddess, giver of the gift!"
Met. 10.674inque latus campī, quō tardius illa redīret,
675iēcit ab oblīquō nitidum iuvenāliter aurum.and he threw the gleaming gold slantwise, with youthful strength, to the side of the field, so that she would come back more slowly. Met. 10.676An peteret, virgō vīsa est dubitāre: coēgī
tollere et adiēcī sublātō pondera malō
impediīque oneris pariter gravitāte morāque.The maiden seemed to hesitate whether to go after it: I compelled her to pick it up, and added weight to the apple once taken, and hindered her equally with the heaviness of the burden and the delay. Met. 10.679Nēve meus sermō cursū sit tardior ipsō,
680praeterita est virgō: dūxit sua praemia victor.And lest my telling be slower than the race itself, the maiden was passed: the victor led away his prize. Met. 10.681Dignane, cui grātēs ageret, cui tūris honōrem
ferret, Adōni, fuī?Did I deserve, Adonis, that he should give me thanks, that he should bring me the honour of incense? Met. 10.682— nec grātēs inmemor ēgit,
nec mihi tūra dedit.— He neither thanked me, forgetful as he was, nor gave me incense.
Met. 10.683Subitam convertor in īram;I am turned to sudden anger; Met. 10.684contemptūque dolēns, nē sim spernenda futūrīs,
685exemplō caveō mēque ipsa exhortor in ambōs.and pained by the contempt, so that I may not be scorned in future, I take care to make an example, and urge myself on against them both. Met. 10.686Templa, deum Mātrī quae quondam clārus Echīōn
fēcerat ex vōtō, nemorōsīs abdita silvīs,
trānsībant, et iter longum requiēscere suāsit.They were passing a temple, hidden in shady woods, which famous Echion had once built to the Mother of the gods in fulfilment of a vow, and the long journey persuaded them to rest. Met. 10.689Illīc concubitūs intempestīva cupīdō
690occupat Hippomenēn, ā nūmine concita nostrō.There an untimely desire for intercourse seizes Hippomenes, aroused by my power. Met. 10.691Lūminis exiguī fuerat prope templa recessus,
spēluncae similis, nātīvō pūmice tēctus,
religiōne sacer prīscā, quō multa sacerdōs
lignea contulerat veterum simulācra deōrum.Near the temple there was a dimly lit recess, like a cave, roofed with natural pumice, sacred with ancient religion, where a priest had gathered many wooden images of the old gods.
Met. 10.695Hunc init et vetitō temerat sacrāria probrō.He enters it and defiles the shrine with forbidden shame. Met. 10.696Sacra retorsērunt oculōs;The sacred images turned away their eyes; Met. 10.696turrītaque Māter
an Stygiā sontēs dubitāvit mergeret undā.and the turreted Mother wondered whether to plunge the guilty pair in the Stygian wave. Met. 10.698Poena levis vīsa est.The punishment seemed light. Met. 10.698Ergō modo levia fulvae
colla iubae vēlant, digitī curvantur in unguēs,
700ex umerīs armī fīunt, in pectora tōtum
pondus abit, summae caudā verruntur harēnae.So tawny manes cover their necks that were smooth just now, their fingers curve into claws, their arms become forelegs, all their weight passes into their chests, the surface of the sand is swept by tails. Met. 10.702Īram vultus habet, prō verbīs murmura reddunt,
prō thalamīs celebrant silvās: aliīsque timendī
dente premunt domitō Cybelēia frēna leōnēs.Their faces hold anger, instead of words they give out growls, instead of a bedchamber they haunt the woods: and, lions feared by others, they champ Cybele's bridle with tamed teeth. Met. 10.705Hōs tū, cāre mihi, cumque hīs genus omne ferārum,
quod nōn terga fugae, sed pugnae pectora praebet,
effuge, nē virtūs tua sit damnōsa duōbus."These, my dear, and with them every kind of wild beast that offers not its back for flight but its breast for battle, flee, lest your courage be ruinous to us both.' Met. 10.708Illa quidem monuit iūnctīsque per āera cygnīs
carpit iter: sed stat monitīs contrāria virtūs.She indeed warned him, and, with her swans yoked, makes her way through the air: but his courage stands opposed to her warnings.
Met. 10.710Forte suem latebrīs vestīgia certa secūtī
excīvēre canēs, silvīsque exīre parantem
fīxerat oblīquō iuvenis Cinyrēius ictū.By chance the hounds, following a sure trail, roused a boar from its lair, and as it was preparing to leave the woods, Cinyras' young son had pierced it with a slanting blow. Met. 10.713Prōtinus excussit pandō vēnābula rōstrō
sanguine tincta suō trepidumque et tūta petentem
715trux aper īnsequitur tōtōsque sub inguine dentēs
abdidit et fulvā moribundum strāvit harēnā.At once the fierce boar shook out the hunting-spear, stained with its own blood, with its curved snout, and pursues him as he trembles and seeks safety, and buried its whole tusk deep in his groin, and laid him dying on the tawny sand. Met. 10.717Vecta levī currū mediās Cytherēa per aurās
Cypron olōrīnīs nōndum pervēnerat alīs,
agnōvit longē gemitum morientis et albās
720flexit avēs illūc.Cytherea, borne in her light chariot through the midst of the air, had not yet reached Cyprus on her swans' wings; she recognised from afar the groan of the dying youth and turned her white birds there.
Met. 10.720Utque aethere vīdit ab altō
exanimem inque suō iactantem sanguine corpus,
dēsiluit pariterque sinum pariterque capillōs
rūpit et indignīs percussit pectora palmīs.And when from high heaven she saw him lifeless, and tossing his body in his own blood, she leapt down, and tore both her robe and her hair, and beat her breast with undeserving hands. Met. 10.724Questaque cum fātīs "at nōn tamen omnia vestrī
725iūris erunt" dīxit.And complaining against the fates, she said, 'But not everything will be in your power. Met. 10.725"Lūctūs monimenta manēbunt
semper, Adōni, meī, repetītaque mortis imāgō
annua plangōris peraget simulāmina nostrī.Memorials of my grief will remain forever, Adonis, and a yearly repetition of your death will enact an imitation of my mourning. Met. 10.728At cruor in flōrem mūtābitur.But your blood shall be changed into a flower. Met. 10.728An tibi quondam
fēmineōs artūs in olentēs vertere mentās,
730Persephonē, licuit: nōbīs Cinyrēius hērōs
invidiae mūtātus erit ?"Or was it once permitted to you, Persephone, to turn a woman's limbs into fragrant mint, and will the change of Cinyras' heroic son be begrudged to me?' Met. 10.731— Sīc fāta cruōrem
nectare odōrātō sparsit: quī tāctus ab illō
intumuit sīc ut fulvō perlūcida caenō
surgere bulla solet.— So saying, she sprinkled the blood with fragrant nectar; and it, touched by this, swelled as a clear bubble tends to rise in yellow mud.
Met. 10.734Nec plēnā longior hōrā
735facta mora est, cum flōs dē sanguine concolor ortus,
quālem, quae lentō cēlant sub cortice grānum,
pūnica ferre solent.Nor was the delay longer than a full hour when a flower sprang from the blood, of the same colour, such as pomegranates bear, which hide their seeds beneath a tough rind. Met. 10.737Brevis est tamen ūsus in illō:
namque male haerentem et nimiā levitāte cadūcum
excutiunt īdem, quī praestant nōmina, ventī."Yet short-lived is the enjoyment of it: for, clinging poorly and falling through excessive lightness, it is shaken off by those same winds that lend it its name.