Chapter 6 - Page 2

of every kind that
frequent these mountains. But if you are prudent and want to
make a good alliance, and will let an old woman advise you, who
loves you better than you have any idea of, dismiss all the
rest and accept Vertumnus, on my recommendation. I know him as
well as he knows himself. He is not a wandering deity, but
belongs to these mountains. Nor is he like too many of the
lovers nowadays, who love any one they happen to see; he loves
you, and you only. Add to this, he is young and handsome, and
has the art of assuming any shape he pleases, and can make
himself just what you command him. Moreover, he loves the same
things that you do, delights in gardening, and handles your
apples with admiration. But NOW he cares nothing for fruits, nor
flowers, nor anything else, but only yourself. Take pity on him,
and fancy him speaking now with my mouth. Remember that the gods
punish cruelty, and that Venus hates a hard heart, and will visit
such offenses sooner or later. To prove this, let me tell you a
story, which is well known in Cyprus to be a fact; and I hope it
will have the effect to make you more merciful. "Iphis was a young man of humble parentage, who saw and loved
Anaxarete, a noble lady of the ancient family of Teucer. He
struggled long with his passion, but when he found he could not
subdue it, he came a suppliant to her mansion. First he told his
passion to her nurse, and begged her as she loved her foster-
child to favor his suit. And then he tried to win her domestics
to his side. Sometimes he committed his vows to written tablets,
and often hung at her door garlands which he had moistened with
his tears. He stretched himself on her threshold, and uttered
his complaints to the cruel bolts and bars. She was deafer than
the surges which rise in the November gale; harder than steel
from the German forges, or a rock that still clings to its native
cliff. She mocked and laughed at him, adding cruel words to her
ungentle treatment, and gave not the slightest gleam of hope. "Iphis could not any longer endure the torments of hopeless love,
and standing before her doors, he spake these last words:
'Anaxarete, you have conquered, and shall no longer have to bear
my importunities. Enjoy your triumph! Sing songs of joy, and
bind your forehead with laurel, you have conquered! I die;
stony heart, rejoice! This at least I can do to gratify you, and
force you to praise me; and thus shall I prove that the love of
you left me but with life. Nor will I leave it to rumor to tell
you of my death. I will come myself, and you shall see me die,
and feast your eyes on the spectacle. Yet, Oh, ye gods, who look
down on mortal woes, observe my fate! I ask but this! Let me be
remembered in coming ages, and add