He clothed his well-proportioned limbs in gold and purple fair to see,
his tunic fell around him in graceful folds, jewels adorned his arms,
his brow was crowned with a golden wreath, and over his neck and
shoulders flowed his hair perfumed with odors. His left hand held the
lyre, his right the ivory wand with which he struck its chords. Like one
inspired, he seemed to drink the morning air and glitter in the morning
ray. The seamen gazed with admiration. He strode forward to the vessel’s
side and looked down into the deep blue sea. Addressing his lyre, he
sang, “Companion of my voice, come with me to the realm of shades.
Though Cerberus may growl, we know the power of song can tame his rage.
Ye heroes of Elysium, who have passed the darkling flood,—ye happy
souls, soon shall I join your band. Yet can ye relieve my grief? Alas, I
leave my friend behind me. Thou, who didst find thy Eurydice, and lose
her again as soon as found; when she had vanished like a dream, how
didst thou hate the cheerful light! I must away, but I will not fear.
The gods look down upon us. Ye who slay me unoffending, when I am no
more, your time of trembling shall come. Ye Nereids, receive your guest,
who throws himself upon your mercy!” So saying, he sprang into the deep
sea. The waves covered him, and the seamen held on their way, fancying
themselves safe from all danger of detection.
But the strains of his music had drawn round him the inhabitants of the
deep to listen, and Dolphins followed the ship as if chained by a spell.
While he struggled in the waves, a Dolphin offered him his back, and
carried him mounted thereon safe to shore. At the spot where he landed,
a monument of brass was afterwards erected upon the rocky shore, to
preserve the memory of the event.
When Arion and the dolphin parted, each to his own element, Arion thus
poured forth his thanks: “Farewell, thou faithful, friendly fish! Would
that I could reward thee; but thou canst not wend with me, nor I with
thee. Companionship we may not have. May Galatea, queen of the deep,
accord thee her favor, and thou, proud of the burden, draw her chariot
over the smooth mirror of the deep.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account