Book 6
The event was wonderful, but I can vouch
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the truth of it. I visited the place
and I have seen the pool of water, where
happened the miracle I now relate.
My good old father, then advanced in years,
incapable of travel, ordered me
to fetch some cattle—thoroughbreds—from there,
and had secured a Lycian for my guide,
as I traversed the pastures, with the man,
it chanced, I saw an ancient altar,—grimed
with sacrificial ashes—in the midst
of a large pool, with sedge and reeds around,
a-quiver in the breeze. And there my guide
stood on the marge, and with an awe-struck voice
began to whisper, “Be propitious, hear
my supplications, and forget not me!”
And I, observing him, echoed the words,
“Forget not me!” which, having done, I turned
to him and said, “Whose altar can this be?
Perhaps a sacred altar of the Fauns,
or of the Naiads, or a native God?”
To which my guide replied, “Young man, such Gods
may not be worshiped at this altar. She
whom once the royal Juno drove away
to wander a harsh world, alone permits
this altar to be used: that goddess whom
the wandering Isle of Delos, at the time
it drifted as the foam, almost refused
There Latona, as she leaned
against a palm-tree—and against the tree
most sacred to Minerva, brought forth twins,
although their harsh step-mother, Juno, strove
to interfere.—And from the island forced
to fly by jealous Juno, on her breast
she bore her children, twin Divinities.
At last, outwearied with the toil, and parched
with thirst—long-wandering in those heated days
over the arid land of Lycia, where
was bred the dire Chimaera— at the time
