Verse
Metamorphoses
Book 6, Line 18 by Henry T. Riley (English)
When thus one, who, it is uncertain, had related the destruction of these men of the Lycian race, another remembers that of the Satyr; whom, overcome in playing on the Tritonian reed, the son of Latona visited with punishment. “Why,” said he, “art thou tearing me from myself? Alas! I now repent; alas,” cried he, “the flute is not of so much value!” As he shrieked aloud, his skin was stript off from the surface of his limbs, nor was he aught but one entire wound. Blood is flowing on every side; the nerves, exposed, appear, and the quivering veins throb without any skin. You might have numbered his palpitating bowels, and the transparent lungs within his breast. The inhabitants of the country, the Fauns, Deities of the woods, and his brothers the Satyrs, and Olympus, even then renowned, and the Nymphs lamented him; and whoever besides on those mountains was feeding the wool-bearing flocks, and the horned herds.
MetamorphosesOvidHenry T. RileyEnglishVerse permalinkRead in Book 6
Book 6, Line 18ProseID metamorphoses-riley-en-prose-6-18