description follows of the country and its occupations given over to complete rest and keeping holiday; and this is seemingly introduced by way of contrast to the stir and splendour and gorgeous preparations within the halls of Peleus. But the poet without delay presses on to one of his grand effects of description—the rich bridal couch, with frame of ivory and coverlet of sea-purples, on which was wrought the tale of Ariadne's desertion by Theseus. She has just awakened to her loss, and the picture is one of passionate fancy and force. To give a transcript of this is impossible; and though Mr Martin's handling of the whole passage is admirably finished, yet where the best comes far short of the original, it seems justifiable to introduce a distillation of its spirit, without attempting metrical likeness. The following version is by the Rev. A. C. Auchmuty[1] (see Catull. lxiv. vv. 52-75):—
Sweet Ariadne stood, in fond dismay,
With wild eyes watching the swift fleet, that bore
Her loved one far away.
And still she gazed incredulous; and still,
Like one awaking from beguiling sleep,
Found herself standing on the beachy hill,
Left there alone to weep.
But the quick oars upon the waters flashed,
And Theseus fled, and not a thought behind
- ↑ Verses, Original and Translated, by A. C. Auchmuty. Exeter, 1869.
