1. Who had the skill to fashion so many figures out of one block of marble? The chariot melts into the charioteer; the horses with one common accord obey the same reins. These are distinguishable by their various forms but made from one and the same material without distinction. 2. The driver is of one piece with the car: to this are attached the steeds, each joined to, and proceeding out of, another. How admirable the artist’s skill! A single block combines within itself all these bodies: one mass of marble by submitting to the chisel has grown into all these various shapes. [64] See Introduction, p. xviii, note 2. * * * * * Page 180 VIII. (LXIX.) _De Polycaste et Perdicca._ Quid non saevus Amor flammarum numine cogat? sanguinis en fetum mater amare timet. pectore dum niveo miserum tenet anxia nutrix, inlicitos ignes iam fovet ipsa parens. ultrices pharetras tandem depone, Cupido. 5 consule iam Venerem: forsan et ipsa dolet. IX. (XLV.) _De hystrice._ Audieram memorande tuas Stymphale volucres spicula vulnifico quondam sparsisse volatu, nec mihi credibilis ferratae fabula pinnae visa diu. datur ecce fides et cognitus hystrix Herculeas adfirmat aves. Os longius illi 5 adsimulat porcum. mentitae cornua saetae summa fronte rigent. oculis rubet igneus ardor. parva sub hirsuto catuli vestigia dorso. hanc tamen exiguam miro natura tueri praesidio dignata feram: stat corpore toto 10 silva minax, iaculisque rigens in proelia crescit picturata seges; quorum cute fixa tenaci * * * * * Page 181 VIII. (LXIX.) _Of Polycaste and Perdiccas._[65] To what deeds of cruelty will the flames of love not inspire mankind? Here is a mother who dares not love her child, the fruit of her body. Holding the unhappy boy to her snowy breast and wishing to give him suck, she conceives for him, though she is his mother, a shameful passion. Cupid, thou goest too far; put down thy cruel quiver. Consult Venus; mayhap she feels like pangs. IX. (XLV.) _The Porcupine._ I had heard the strange tale, Stymphalus, that the birds that haunted thy marshes let fall from them arrows of death in their flight, and for long I could not bring myself to believe this story of iron feathers. But here is proof: the porcupine who is surely related to those birds of Hercules is their warrant.