Book 8
And one time, as I hung fresh garlands there,
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I said, ‘Those whom the Gods care for are Gods!
And those who worshiped are now worshiped here.’”
He ceased, and this miraculous event,
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and he who told it, had astonished them.
But Theseus above all. The hero asked
to hear of other wonders wrought by Gods.
The Calydonian River-God replied,
and leaning on one elbow, said to him:
“There are, O valiant hero, other things
whose forms once-changed as these, have so remained,
but there are some who take on many shapes,
as you have, Proteus, dweller of the deep—
the deep whose arms embrace the earth. For some
have seen you as a youth, then as a lion,
a furious boar one time, a serpent next,
so dreadful to the touch—and sometimes horns
have made you seem a bull—or now a stone,
or now a tree, or now a slipping stream,
or even—the foe of water—next a fire.”
Now Erysichthon's daughter, Mestra, had
that power of Proteus—she was called the wife
of deft Autolycus.—Her father spurned
the majesty of all the Gods, and gave
no honor to their altars. It is said
he violated with an impious axe
the sacred grove of Ceres, and he cut
her trees with iron. Long-standing in her grove
there grew an ancient oak tree, spread so wide,
alone it seemed a standing forest; and
its trunk and branches held memorials,
as, fillets, tablets, garlands, witnessing
how many prayers the goddess Ceres granted.
And underneath it laughing Dryads loved
to whirl in festal dances, hand in hand,
encircling its enormous trunk, that thrice
five ells might measure; and to such a height
it towered over all the trees around,
as they were higher than the grass beneath.
But Erysichthon, heedless of all things,
