Annexe I
p. 393-397
Texte intégral
1Cette annexe reproduit le passage consacré au mythe d’Écho et de Narcisse dans Les Métamorphoses d’Ovide (III, v. 336-510), traduites par George Sandys1, que Wordsworth a lues à l’école de Hawkshead. Il est disponible sur Early English Books Online. L’orthographe d’origine a été conservée, à l’exception des « f » retransformés en « s » pour une meilleure lisibilité. Pour faciliter la lecture, les textes cités dans cette annexe et les suivantes sont composés en romain.
He giuing sure replyes to such as scame, | 1 |
Through all th’ Aönian City’s stretcht his fame. | |
First blew Liriope sad triall made | |
How that was but too true which he had saide : | |
Whom in times past Cephisus flood imbrac’t | 5 |
Within his winding streams : and forc’t the chaste. | |
The louely Nymph (who not vnfruitfull prou’d) | |
Brought forth a boy, euen then to be belou’d, | |
Narcissus nam’d. Enquiring if old age | |
Should crowne his Youth ; He, in obscure presage, | 10 |
Made this reply : Except himselfe he knowe. | |
Long, they no credit on his words bestowe : | |
Yet did the euent the prophecie approue, | |
In his strange ruine and new kinde of loue. | |
Now, he to fifteene added had a yeare : | 15 |
Now in his looks both boy and man appeare. | |
Many a loue-sick Youth did him desire ; | |
And many a Maid his beauty set on fire : | |
Yet, in his tender age his pride was such, | |
That neither youth nor Mayden might him touch. | 20 |
The vocall Nymph, this louely Boy did spy | |
(She could not proffer speech, nor not reply) | |
When busie in persuit of saluage spoyles, | |
He draue the Deere into his corded toyles. | |
Eccho was then a body, not a Voyce | 25 |
Yet then, as now, of words she wanted choyce ; | |
But only could reiterate the close | |
Of euery speech. This Iuno did impose. | |
For, often when she might haue taken Ioue, | |
Compressing there the Nymphs, who weakely stroue ; | 30 |
Her long discourses made the Goddesse stay, | |
Vntill the Nymphs had time to run-away. | |
Which when perceiu’d ; shee said, For this abuse | |
Thy tongue henceforth shall bee of little vse. | |
Those threats are deeds : she yet ingeminates | 35 |
The last of sounds, and what she hears relates. | |
Narcissus seene, intending thus the chace ; | |
She forth-with glowes, and with a noyselesse pace | |
His steps persues ; the more she did persuw, | |
More hot (as neerer to her fire) she grew : | 40 |
And might be likened to a sulph’rous match ; | |
Which instantly th’ approached flame doth catch. | |
How oft would shee haue woo’d him with sweete words ! | |
But, Nature no such liberty affords | |
Begin she could not, yet full readily | 45 |
To his expected speech she would reply. | |
The Boy, from his companions parted, said ; | |
Is any nigh ? I, Eccho answere made. | |
He, round about him gazed (much appall’d) | |
And cry’d out, Come. She him, who called, call’d. | 50 |
Then looking back ; and seeing none appear’d, | |
Why shunst thou mee ? The selfe-same voyce he heard, | |
Deceiued by the Image of his words ; | |
Then let vs ioyne, said he : no sound accords | |
More to her wish : her faculties combine | 55 |
In deare consent ; who answer’d, Let vs joyne ! | |
Flattering her selfe, out of the woods she sprung ; | |
And would about his struggling neck haue hung. | |
Thrust back ; he said, Life shall this breast forsake, | |
Ere thou, light Nymph, on me thy pleasure take. | 60 |
On me thy pleasure take, the Nymph replyes | |
To that disdainefull Boy, who from her flyes. | |
Despis’d ; the wood her sad retreat receaues : | |
Who couers her ashamed face with leaues ; | |
And sculks in desert caues. Loue still possest | 65 |
Her soule ; through griefe of her repulse, increast. | |
Her wretched body pines with sleeplesse care : | |
Her skinne contracts : her blood converts to ayre. | |
Nothing was left her now but voyce and bones : | |
The voyce remaynes ; the other turne to stones. | 70 |
Conceal’d in Woods, in Mountaines neuer found, | |
Yet heard in all : and all is but a Sound. | |
Thus her, thus other Nymphs, in mountaynes born, | |
And sedgy brooks, the Boy had kild with scorn. | |
Thus many a Youth he had afore deceiu’d : | 75 |
When one thus praid, with hands to heau’n vpheau’d ; | |
So may he loue himselfe, and so despaire ! | |
Rhamnusia condescends to his iust pray’r. | |
A Spring there was, whose siluer Waters were, | |
As smooth as any mirror, nor lesse cleare : | 80 |
Which neither Heards-men, tame, nor saluage Beast, | |
Nor wandring Fowle, nor scattered leaues molest ; | |
Girt round with grasse, by neighbouring moysture fed, | |
And Woods, against the Sunnes inuasion spred. | |
He, tyr’d with heat and hunting, with the Place | 85 |
And Spring delighted, lyes vpon his face. | |
Quenching his thirst, another thirst doth rise ; | |
Rays’d by the forme which in that glasse he spyes. | |
The hope of nothing doth his powres inuade | |
And for a body he mistakes a shade. | 90 |
Himselfe, himselfe distracts : who pores thereon | |
So fixedly, as if of Parian stone. | |
Beholds his eyes, two starres ! his dangling haire | |
Which with vnshorn Apollo’s might compare ! | |
His fingers worthy Bacchus ! his smooth chin ! | 95 |
His Iuory neck ! his heauenly face ! where-in | |
The linked Deities their Graces fix ! | |
Where Roses with vnsullied Lillies mix ! | |
Admireth all ; for which, to be admir’d : | |
And vnconsiderately himselfe desir’d. | 100 |
The prayses, which he giues, his beautie claym’d. | |
Who seeks, is sought : th’ Inflamer is inflam’d. | |
How often would he kisse the flattering spring ! | |
How oft with downe-thrust arms sought he to cling | |
About that loued neck ! Those cous’ning lips | 105 |
Delude his hopes ; and from himselfe he slips. | |
Not knowing what, with what he sees he fryes | |
And th’ error that deceiues, incites his eyes. | |
Foole ! that striu’st to catch a flying shade ! | |
Thou seek’st what’s no-where : Turn aside, ‘twill fade. | 110 |
Thy formes reflection doth thy sight delude : | |
Which is with nothing of its owne indu’d. | |
With thee it comes ; with thee it staies ; and so | |
‘Twould goe away, hadst thou the powre to goe. | |
Nor sleep, nor hunger could thy louer rayse | 115 |
Who, lay’d along, on that false forme doth gaze | |
With lookes, which looking neuer could suffice ; | |
And ruinates himselfe with his owne eyes. | |
At length, a little lifting vp his head ; | |
You Woods, that round about your branches spred, | 120 |
Was euer so vnfortunate a Louer ! | |
You know, to many you haue beene a couer ; | |
From your first growth to this long distant day | |
Haue you knowne any, thus to pine away ! | |
I like, and see : but yet I cannot find | 125 |
The lik’t, and seene. O Loue, with error blind ! | |
What grieues me more ; no Sea, no Mountayne steep, | |
No wayes, no walls, our joyes a-sunder keep : | |
Whom but a little water doth diuide ; | |
And he himselfe desires to be injoy’d. | 130 |
As oft as I to kisse the flood decline, | |
So oft his lips ascend, to close with mine. | |
You’ld thinke we toucht : so small a thing doth part | |
Our equall loues ! Come forth, what ere thou art. | |
Sweet Boy, a simple Boy beguile not so : | 135 |
From him that seeks thee, whither would’st thou go ? | |
My age nor beauty merit thy disdaine : | |
And me the Nymphs haue often lou’d in vaine. | |
Yet in thy friendly shewes my poore hopes liue ; | |
Still striuing to receiue the hand I giue : | 140 |
Thou smil’st my smiles : when I a teare let fall, | |
Thou shedd’st an other ; and consent’st in all. | |
And, lo, thy sweetly-mouing lips appeare | |
To vtter words, that come not to our eare. | |
Ah, He is I ! now, now I plainly see : | 145 |
Nor is’t my shaddow that bewitcheth me. | |
Loue of my selfe me burnes ; (ô too too sure !) | |
And suffer in those flames which I procure. | |
Shall I be woo’d, or wooe ? What shall I craue ? | |
Since what I couet, I already haue. | 150 |
Too much hath made me poore ! O, you diuine | |
And fauoring Powres, me from my selfe dis-joyne ! | |
Of what I loue, I would be dispossest : | |
This, in a Louer, is a strange request ! | |
Now, strength through griefe decayes : short is the time | 155 |
I haue to liue ; extinguisht in my prime. | |
Nor grieues it me to part with well-mist breath ; | |
For griefe will find a perfect cure in death : | |
Would he I loue might longer life injoy ! | |
Now, two ill-fated Louers, in one, die. | 160 |
This said ; againe vpon his Image gaz’d ; | |
Teares on the troubled water circles rais’d : | |
The motion much obscur’d the fleeting shade. | |
With that, he cry’d (perceiuing it to vade), | |
O, whither wilt thou ! stay : nor cruell proue, | 165 |
In leauing me, who infinitely loue. | |
Yet let me see, what cannot be possest ; | |
And, with that emptie food, my fury feast. | |
Complaining thus, himselfe he disarrayes ; | |
And to remoreselesse hands his brest displayes | 170 |
The blowes that solid snowe with crimson stripe ; | |
Like Apples party-red, or Grapes scarce ripe. | |
But, in the water when the same appeare, | |
He could no longer such a sorrow beare. | |
As Virgin wax dissolues with feruent heat ; | 175 |
Or morning frost, whereon the Sunne-beames beat | |
So thawes he with the ardor of desire ; | |
And, by degrees consumes in vnseene fire. | |
His meagre cheeks now lost their red and white ; | |
That life ; that fauour lost, which did delight. | 180 |
Nor those diuine proportions now remaine, | |
So much by Eccho lately lou’d in vaine. | |
Which when she saw ; although she angry were, | |
And still in minde her late repulse did beare ; | |
As often as the miserable cry’d, | 185 |
Alas ! Alas, the wofull Nymph reply’d. | |
And euer when he struck his sounding brest, | |
Like sounds of mutuall sufferance exprest. | |
His last words were, still hanging o’re his shade ; | |
Ah, Boy, belou’d in vaine ! so Eccho said. | 190 |
Farewell. Farewell, sigh’t she. Then downe he lyes : | |
Deaths cold hand shuts his selfe-admiring eyes | |
Which now eternally their gazes fix | |
Vpon the Waters of infernall Styx. | |
The wofull Naiades lament the dead ; | 195 |
And their clipt haire vpon their brother spred. | |
The wofull Dryades pertake their woes | |
With both, sad Eccho ioynes at euery close. | |
The funerall Pyle prepar’d, a Herse thy brought | |
To fetch his body, which they vainely sought. | 200 |
In stead whereof a yellow flowre was found, | |
With tufts of white about the button crown’d. |
Notes de bas de page
1 Ovid’s Metamorphosis Englished, Mythologiz’d, and Represented in Figures, and an Essay to the Translation of Virgil’s Aeneis by George Sandys, Oxford, 1632, p. 88-92.
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