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(Apollo and Daphne)


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Eros in tree

BULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY

THE AGE OF FABLE
OR STORIES OF GODS AND HEROES
by Thomas Bulfinch

Eros in tree

CHAPTER III

APOLLO AND DAPHNE
PYRAMUS AND THISBE
CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS


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APOLLO AND DAPHNE

¾ÆÆú·Ð°ú ´ÙÇÁ³×

THE slime with which the earth was covered by the waters of the flood produced an excessive fertility, which called forth every variety of production, both bad and good. Among the rest, Python, an enormous serpent, crept forth, the terror of the people, and lurked in the caves of Mount Parnassus. Apollo slew him with his arrows- weapons which he had not before used against any but feeble animals, hares, wild goats, and such game. In commemoration of this illustrious conquest he instituted the Pythian games, in which the victor in feats of strength, swiftness of foot, or in the chariot race was crowned with a wreath of beech leaves; for the laurel was not yet adopted by Apollo as his own tree.
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book I, Python, lines 534 - 576]
[see also: Other Panhellenic Festivals]

È«¼ö·Î Áö±¸¸¦ µ¤Àº ÁøÈë  ¶§¹®¿¡ ¸Å¿ì ºñ¿ÁÇØÁ®¼­, ³ª»Û °Í ÁÁÀº °Í °¡¸®Áö ¾Ê°í ¸ðµç Á¾·ùÀÇ »ê¹°ÀÌ ³ª¿Ô´Ù. ±× ³ª¸ÓÁö Áß¿¡¼­, ¾öû³ª°Ô Å« ¹ì, Ç¶ÅæÀÌ ±â¾î ³ª¿Í, »ç¶÷µéÀÇ °øÆ÷°¡ µÇ¾úÀ¸¸ç, ÆÄ¸£³ª¼Ò½º »êÀÇ µ¿±¼¿¡ ¼û¾î µé¾ú´Ù. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ÀÚ±âÀÇ È­»ì·Î ÀÌ Å« ¹ìÀ» »ç»ìÇÏ¿´´Âµ¥, ÀÌ È­»ìÀº Àü¿¡´Â ¿¬¾àÇÑ µ¿¹°µé, Åä³¢ ¹× »ê¾ç°ú °°Àº »ç³É°¨¿¡¸¸ »ç¿ëÇÏ´ø ¹«±â¿´´Ù. ÀÌ ÇõÇõÇÑ Àü°ú¸¦ ±â³äÇϱâ À§ÇÏ¿© ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº Ç¶Åæ °æ±â¸¦ â¼³ÇÏ¿´´Âµ¥, ¿ª±â³ª °È±â ³»±â³ª ȤÀº ÀÌ·ûÂ÷ °æÁÖ¿¡¼­ ¿ì½ÂÇÑ ÀÚ¿¡°Ô´Â ³Êµµ¹ã³ª¹µÀÙÀ¸·Î ¸¸µç °üÀ» ¾º¿ö ÁÖ¾ú´Ù; ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×¶§¿¡´Â ¾ÆÁ÷ ¿ù°è¼ö´Â ¾ÆÆú·Ð¿¡ ÀÇÇØ¼­ ÀÚ±âÀÇ ³ª¹«·Î¼­ äÅõÇÁö ¾Ê¾Ò±â ¶§¹®À̾ú´Ù.

The famous statue of Apollo called the Belvedere represents the god after this victory over the serpent Python [image:11K]. To this Byron alludes in his "Childe Harold," iv. 161:

"...The lord of the unerring bow,
The god of life, and poetry, and light,
The Sun, in human limbs arrayed, and brow
All radiant from his triumph in the fight.
The shaft has just been shot; the arrow bright
With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye
And nostril, beautiful disdain, and might
And majesty flash their full lightnings by,
Developing in that one glance the Deity."

º§º£µ¥·¹¶ó°í ºÎ¸£´Â À¯¸íÇÑ ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀÇ »óÀº, ±×°ÍÀº Ç¶Åæ ¹ì¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ½Â¸® µÚÀÇ ½ÅÀ» ³ªÅ¸³½´Ù.À» À» ÅðÄ¡ÇÑ ÈÄ, ÀÌ ½ÅÀ» Ç¥ÇöÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌ¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¹ÙÀÌ·±Àº ±×ÀÇ "ÃÒÀϵå Çì·Ñµå(iv,161)"¿¡ ¼­ ÀºÀ¯Çϰí ÀÖ´Ù:

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APOLLO AND DAPHNE

¾ÆÆú·Ð°ú ´ÙÇÁ³×¡¡

Daphne was Apollo's first love. It was not brought about by accident, but by the malice of Cupid (Eros). Apollo saw the boy playing with his bow and arrows; and being himself elated with his recent victory over Python, he said to him, "What have you to do with warlike weapons, saucy boy? Leave them for hands worthy of them, Behold the conquest I have won by means of them over the vast serpent who stretched his poisonous body over acres of the plain! Be content with your torch, child, and kindle up your flames, as you call them, where you will, but presume not to meddle with my weapons."

´ÙÇÁ³×´Â ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀÇ ÃÖÃÊÀÇ ¿¬ÀÎÀ̾ú´Ù. ±×°ÍÀº ¿ì¿¬È÷ ÀÌ·ç¾îÁø °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, ¿¡·Î½ºÀÇ ¿øÇÑ¿¡ ÀÇÇÏ¿© ÀÌ·ç¾îÁø °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. ¾î´À ¶§, ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ±× ¼Ò³âÀÌ È°°ú È­»ìÀ» °¡Áö°í ³î°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀ» º¸¾Ò´Ù. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ¸¶Ä§ Ç¶ÅæÀ» ÅðÄ¡ÇÏ°í µæÀǾç¾çÇÏ¿© ÀÖ¾ú´ø ¶§¿´À¸¹Ç·Î, ¿¡·Î½º¿¡°Ô ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»Çß´Ù.
"¾ß, ÀÌ Àå³­²Ù·¯±â¾ß, ³Í ÀüÀï ¶§³ª ¾²´Â ±×·± ¹«±â¸¦ °¡Áö°í ¹«¾ùÀ» ÇÏ·Á´Â °Å³Ä? ±×°ÍÀº ±×°ÍÀ» ¾µ ¸¸ÇÑ »ç¶÷¿¡°Ô Áà¶ó. ³ª´Â ÀÌ ¹«±â·Î Àú Å« ¹ìÀ» ÅðÄ¡Çß¾î. µ¶À» ǰÀº ¸ö¶×À̸¦ ³ÐÀº µé¿¡ ÆîÄ¡°í ÀÖ´ø Àú Å« ¹ìÀ» ¸»ÀÌ´Ù! ³Ê µûÀ§´Â ȶºÒ·Î ¸¸Á·Çϱ⸸ ÇÏ¸é µÅ. ÀÌ ¾î¸°¾Ö¾ß, ±×¸®°í ÇÏ°í ½ÍÀ¸¸é ¼ÒÀ§ »ç¶ûÀÇ ºÒÀå³­À̳ª ÇÏ¸é µÅ. ±×·¯³ª °Ç¹æÁö°Ô ³ªÀÇ ¹«±â¿£ ¼ÕÀ» ´ëÁö ¸»¾Æ¶ó."

Venus's boy heard these words, and rejoined, "Your arrows may strike all things else, Apollo, but mine shall strike you." So saying, he took his stand on a rock of Parnassus, and drew from his quiver two arrows of different workmanship, one to excite love, the other to repel it. The former was of gold and ship pointed, the latter blunt and tipped with lead. With the leaden shaft he struck the nymph Daphne, the daughter of the river god Peneus [river in Thessaly], and with the golden one Apollo, through the heart. 

ÀÌ ¸»À» µè°í ¾ÆÇÁ·ÎµðÅ×ÀÇ ¾ÆµéÀº ´ë´äÇß´Ù.
"¾ÆÆú·Ð ¾î¸¥, ´ç½ÅÀÇ È­»ìÀº ´Ù¸¥ ¸ðµç °ÍÀ» ¸ÂÈúÁö ¸ð¸£³ª, ³» È­»ìÀº ´ç½ÅÀ» ¸ÂÈú°É¿ä."
ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»ÇÏ¸ç ¿¡·Î½º´Â ÆÄ¸£³´¼Ò½º »êÀÇ ¹ÙÀ§ À§¿¡ ¼­¼­ ÀüÅë(ÀüÅë)¿¡¼­ ¼­·Î ´Ù¸¥ °øÀÎ(°øÀÎ)ÀÌ ¸¸µç µÎ °³ÀÇ È­»ìÀ» ²ôÁý¾î ³Â´Âµ¥, Çϳª´Â »ç¶ûÀ» ȯ±âÇÏ´Â È­»ìÀ̰í, Çϳª´Â ±×°ÍÀ» °ÅºÎÇÏ´Â È­»ìÀ̾ú´Ù. ÀüÀÚ´Â ±ÝÀ¸·Î µÇ°í ³¡ÀÌ »ÏÁ·ÇÏ¿´°í, ÈÄÀÚ´Â ¹«µð°í ³¡ÀÌ ³³À¸·Î µÇ¾î ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ¿¡·Î½º´Â ÀÌ ³³È­»ì·Î ÇϽÅ(ÇϽÅ) Æä³×ÀÌ¿À½ºÀÇ µþ ´ÙÇÁ³×¶ó´Â ´ÔÆä¸¦ ½î°í ´Ù½Ã ±ÝÈ­»ì·Î´Â ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀÇ °¡½¿À» ÇâÇØ ½î¾Ò´Ù.

Forthwith the god was seized with love for the maiden, and she abhorred the thought of loving. Her delight was in woodland sports and in the spoils of the chase. lovers sought her, but she spurned them all, ranging the woods, and taking no thought of Cupid nor of Hymen. Her father often said to her, "Daughter, you owe me a son-in-law; you owe me grandchildren." She, hating the thought of marriage as a crime, with her beautiful face tinged all over with blushes, threw her arms around her father's neck, and said, "Dearest father, grant me this favour, that I may always remain unmarried, like Diana (Artemis)." He consented, but at the same time said, "Your own face will forbid it."

±×·¯ÀÚ ¹Ù·Î ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ÀÌ ¼Ò³à¸¦ ¿­¾ÖÇÏ°Ô µÇ¾úÀ¸³ª, ´ÙÇÁ³×´Â ¿¬¾Ö¶ó´Â »ý°¢¸¶Àú Çϱ⠽ȾîÁ³´Ù. ±×³àÀÇ À¯ÀÏÇÑ Áñ°Å¿òÀº ½£¼ÓÀ» ½Î´Ù´Ï¸ç »ç³ÉÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. ±×³à¿¡°Ô ±¸¾Ö¸¦ ÇÏ´Â ³²¼ºÀÌ ¸¹¾ÒÀ¸³ª, ±×³à´Â ¿©ÀüÈ÷ ½£¼ÓÀ» ã¾Æ´Ù´Ï¸ç ¿¬¾Ö´Ï °áÈ¥ÀÌ´Ï ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ¿°µÎ¿¡µµ µÎÁö ¾Ê°í ±×µéÀ» ¸ðµÎ °ÅÀýÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×³àÀÇ ¾Æ¹öÁö´Â Á¾Á¾ ±×³à¿¡°Ô ¸»Çß´Ù.
"¾ê¾ß, ÀÎÁ¨ »çÀ§µµ º¸°í ¼ÕÀÚµµ º¸°Ô ÇØÁà¾ßÁö."
´ÙÇÁ³×´Â °áÈ¥ÇÒ »ý°¢À» ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº Á˾ÇÀ̳ª ¹üÇÏ´Â °Í°°ÀÌ ½È¾îÇÏ¿´À¸¹Ç·Î ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¾ó±¼À» ºÓÈ÷¸é¼­ ¾Æ¹öÁöÀÇ ¸ñ¿¡ ÆÈÀ» °¨°í ¸»Çß´Ù.
"¾Æ¹öÁö, Á¦¹ß ³ªµµ ¾Æ¸£Å׹̽º¿Í °°ÀÌ °áÈ¥ÇÏÁö ¾Ê°í ¾ðÁ¦³ª ó³à·Î ÀÖµµ·Ï ÇÏ¿© ÁֽʽÿÀ."
¾Æ¹öÁö´Â ÇÏ´Â ¼ö ¾øÀÌ ½Â³«Çß´Ù. ±×·¯³ª µ¿½Ã¿¡ ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»Çß´Ù.
"³ÊÀÇ ±× ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¾ó±¼ÀÌ ±×·¸°Ô Çϵµ·Ï µÎÁö´Â ¾ÊÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù."

Apollo loved her, and longed to obtain her; and he who gives oracles to all the world was not wise enough to look into his own fortunes. He saw her hair flung loose over her shoulders, and said, "If so charming, in disorder, what would it be if arranged?" He saw her eyes bright as stars; he saw her lips, and was not satisfied with only seeing them. He admired her hands and arms, naked to the shoulder, and whatever was hidden from view he imagined more beautiful still. He followed her; she fled, swifter than the wind, and delayed not a moment at his entreaties. "Stay," said he, "daughter of Peneus; I am not a foe. Do not fly me as a lamb flies the wolf, or a dove the hawk. It is for love I pursue you. You make me miserable, for fear you should fall and hurt yourself on these stones, and I should be the cause. Pray run slower, and I will follow slower. I am no clown, no rude peasant. Jupiter (Zeus) is my father, and I am lord of Delphos and Tenedos, and know all things, present and future. I am the god of song and the lyre . My arrows fly true to the mark; but, alas! an arrow more fatal than mine has pierced my heart! I am the god of medicine, and know the virtues of all healing plants. Alas! I suffer a malady that no balm can cure!"
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book I, Daphne, lines 577 - 687]

¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ´ÙÇÁ³×°¡ Á×µµ·Ï ÁÁ¾Ò±â ¶§¹®¿¡ ¾î¶»°Ô ÇØ¼­¶óµµ ¼Õ¿¡ ³ÖÀ¸·Á°í »ý°¢ÇÏ¿´´Ù. Àü¼¼°è¿¡ ½ÅŹÀ» ÁÖ´Â ±×µµ ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ¿î¸íÀ» ¿¹ÃøÇÏÁö ¸øÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×´Â ´ÙÇÁ³×ÀÇ µÎ ¾î±ú¿¡ ¸Ó¸®Ä®ÀÌ ¾Æ¹«·¸°Ô³ª ´Ã¾îÁø °ÍÀ» º¸°í ¸»Çß´Ù.
"ºøÁúÀ» ÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Æµµ Àú·¸°Ô ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿ì´Ï, °ö°Ô ºøÀ¸¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿ï±î!"
±×´Â ±×³àÀÇ ´«ÀÌ º°°ú °°ÀÌ ºû³ª´Â °ÍÀ» º¸¾Ò´Ù. ¶Ç ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ÀÔ¼úÀ» º¸¾Ò´Ù. ±×·¯³ª º¸´Â °Í¸¸À¸·Î´Â ¸¸Á·ÇÒ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â ±×³àÀÇ ¼Õ°ú ¾î±ú±îÁö ³ëÃâµÈ ÆÈÀ» º¸°í °¨ÅºÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×¸®°í ³ëÃâµÇÁö ¾ÊÀº ºÎºÐÀº ¾ó¸¶³ª ´õ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿ï±î ÇÏ°í »ó»óÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×´Â ´ÙÇÁ³×ÀÇ µÚ¸¦ ÂѾҴÙ. ´ÙÇÁ³×´Â ¹Ù¶÷º¸´Ùµµ »¡¸® ´Þ¾Æ³ª¸ç, ¾Æ¹«¸® ±×°¡ °£Ã»Çصµ Àá½Ãµµ ¸ØÃßÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù. ±×´Â ¸»Çß´Ù. "Àá±ñ¸¸ ±â´Ù·Á ÁÖ¿À, Æä³×ÀÌ¿À½ºÀÇ µû´ÔÀÌ¿©. ³ª´Â ¿ø¼ö°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¿À. ´ç½ÅÀº ¾çÀÌ ´Á´ë¸¦ ÇÇÇϰí, ºñµÑ±â°¡ ¸Å¸¦ ÇÇÇϵíÀÌ ³ª¸¦ ÇÇÇϰí ÀÖÀ¸³ª, Á¦¹ß ±×·¯Áö ¸»¾Æ ÁÖ¿À. ³»°¡ ´ç½ÅÀ» ÂÑ´Â °ÍÀº »ç¶ûÇϱ⠶§¹®ÀÌ¿À. ³ª ¶§¹®¿¡ ±×·¸°Ô ´Þ¾Æ³ª´Ù°¡ µ¹¿¡ °É·Á ³Ñ¾îÁ®¼­ ´ÙÄ¡Áö ¾ÊÀ»±î ±Ù½É½º·´¼Ò. Á¦¹ß Á» õõÈ÷ °¡½Ã¿À. ³ªµµ õõÈ÷ µû¸¦ °ÍÀÌ´Ï. ³ª´Â ½Ã°ñ¶ß±âµµ ¾Æ´Ï°í ¹«½ÄÇÑ ³ó»ç²Ûµµ ¾Æ´Ï¿À. Á¦¿ì½º°¡ ³ªÀÇ ¾Æ¹öÁöÀÌ°í ³ª´Â µ¨Æ÷ÀÌ¿Í Å׳׵µ½ºÀÇ ±ºÁÖ¿ä. ±×¸®°í ÇöÀçÀÇ Àϵµ ¹Ì·¡ÀÇ Àϵµ ´Ù ¾Ë°í ÀÖ¼Ò. ³ª´Â ³ë·¡¿À ¸®¶óÀÇ ½ÅÀÌ¿À. ³ªÀÇ È­»ìÀº ²À²À Ç¥ÀûÀ» ¸ÂÈ÷¿À. ±×·¯³ª, ¾Æ!¡¦.³ªÀÇ È­»ìº¸´Ùµµ ´õ Ä¡¸íÀûÀÎ È­»ìÀÌ ³ªÀÇ °¡½¿À» ¶Õ¾ú¼Ò. ³ª´Â ÀǼú(ÀǼú)ÀÇ ½ÅÀ̰í, ¸ðµç ¾àÃÊÀÇ È¿´ÉÀ» ¾Ë°í ÀÖ¼Ò. ±×·¯³ª, ¾Æ, Áö±Ý ³ª´Â ¾î¶°ÇÑ ÁÁÀº ¾àÀ¸·Îµµ °ÅÄ¥ ¼ö ¾ø´Â º´¿¡ °É·Á ±«·Î¿Í Çϰí ÀÖ¼Ò!"

The nymph continued her flight, and left his plea half uttered. And even as she fled she charmed him. The wind blew her garments, and her unbound hair streamed loose behind her. The god grew impatient to find his wooings thrown away, and, sped by Cupid, gained upon her in the race. It was like a hound pursuing a hare, with open jaws ready to seize, while the feebler animal darts forward, slipping from the very grasp. So flew the god and the virgin- he on the wings of love, and she on those of fear. The pursuer is the more rapid, however, and gains upon her, and his panting breath blows upon her hair. Her strength begins to fail, and, ready to sink, she calls upon her father, the river god:

´ÙÇÁ³×´Â °è¼Ó ´Þ¾Æ³µ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ±×ÀÇ ¸»µµ Àý¹Ý¹Û¿¡ µèÁö ¸øÇß´Ù. ´Þ¾Æ³ª´Â ¸ð½À±îÁöµµ ±×¿¡°Ô´Â ¸Å·ÂÀûÀ¸·Î º¸¿´´Ù. ±× ¸ð½ÀÀº ¹Ù¶÷¿¡ µÀÀÌ ³ªºÎ³¢µí Çß°í, µÚ·Î ´ÃÀÎ ¸Ó¸®Ä®Àº È帣´Â ¹°°ú °°¾Ò´Ù. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ±×ÀÇ ±¸¾Ö°¡ °ÅÀýµÇÀÚ ´õ´Â ÂüÀ» ¼ö ¾ø°Ô µÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®ÇÏ¿© ±×´Â ¿¬Á¤À» ǰ°í ¼Ó·ÂÀ» ³»¾î ±×³à¸¦ ¹Ù½Ï µÚÂѾҴÙ. ±×°ÍÀº ¸¶Ä¡ »ç³É°³°¡ Åä³¢¸¦ Ãß°ÝÇϰí ÀÖÀ» ¶§¿Í Èí»çÇß´Ù. ÀÔÀ» ¹ú·Á ´çÀåÀÌ¶óµµ ¹°·Á°í Çϸé ÀÌ ¾àÇÑ µ¿¹°Àº ±ÞÈ÷ ¶Ç ³»´Þ·Á°¡ °¡±î½º·Î ±× ÀÌ»¡À» ÇÇÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. À̸®ÇÏ¿© ½Å°ú ó³à´Â °è¼Ó ´Þ·È´Ù. -¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº »ç¶ûÀÇ ³¯°³¸¦ Ÿ°í, ´ÙÇÁ³×´Â °øÆ÷ÀÇ ³¯°³¸¦ Ÿ°í¼­. ±×·¯³ª Ãß°ÝÇÏ´Â ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀÌ ´õ »¡¶ú±â ´ë¹®¿¡ Á¡Á¡ ´ÙÇÁ³×¿¡°Ô À°¹ÚÇÏ°Ô µÇ¾ú°í, Çæ¶±ÀÌ´Â ¼û°áÀÌ ±×³àÀÇ ¸Ó¸®Ä«¶ô¿¡ ´ê¾Ò´Ù. ´ÙÇÁ³×ÀÇ ÈûÀº Á¡Á¡ ¾àÇØÁ³´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¸¶Ä§³» ¾²·¯Áö°Ô µÇÀÚ, ±×³à´Â ¾Æ¹öÁö ÇϽÅ(ÇϽÅ)¿¡°Ô È£¼ÒÇß´Ù.

 "Help me, Peneus! open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger!" Scarcely had she spoken, when a stiffness seized all her limbs; her bosom began to be enclosed in a tender bark; her hair became leaves; her arms became branches; her foot stuck fast in the ground, as a root; her face became a tree-top, retaining nothing of its former self but its beauty, Apollo stood amazed. He touched the stem, and felt the flesh tremble under the new bark. He embraced the branches, and lavished kisses on the wood. The branches shrank from his lips. 

"¾Æ¹öÁö, »ì·Á Áà¿ä. ¶¥À» ¿­¾î ³ª¸¦ ¼û°Ü Áà¿ä. ¾Æ´Ï¸é ³» ¸ð½ÀÀ» ¹Ù²Ù¾î ÁÖ¼¼¿ä. ÀÌ ¸ð½À ¶§¹®¿¡ Á¦°¡ ÀÌ·± ¹«¼­¿î ÀÏÀ» ´çÇϰí ÀÖÀ¸´Ï¡¦."
´ÙÇÁ³×°¡ ¸»À» ¸¶Ä¡ÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ, ±×³àÀÇ »çÁö(»çÁö)´Â ±»¾îÁö°í °¡½¿Àº ºÎµå·¯¿î ³ª¹«²®Áú·Î ½ÎÀ̰í, ¶Ç ¸Ó¸®Ä«¶ôÀº ³ª¹µÀÙÀÌ µÇ°í, ÆÈÀº °¡Áö°¡ µÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ±×ÀÇ ´Ù¸®´Â »Ñ¸®°¡ µÇ¾î ¶¥ ¼Ó¿¡ »Ñ¸®¹Ú¾Ò´Ù. ¾ó±¼Àº °¡Áö ³¡ÀÌ µÇ¾î ¸ð¾çÀº ´Þ¶óÁ³À¸³ª ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿ò¸¸Àº ´Ù¸§ÀÌ ¾ø¾ú´Ù.
¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ±ô¦ ³î¶ó ±× ÀÚ¸®¿¡ ¸ØÃç ¼¹´Ù. Áٱ⸦ ¸¸Á® º¸´Ï »õ·Î¿î ³ª¹«²®Áú ¹Ø¿¡¼­ ±×³àÀÇ ¸öÀÌ ¶³°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â °¡Áö¸¦ ²ø¾î¾È°í Èû²¯ Ű½º¸¦ ÇÏ·Á°í Çß´Ù. ±×·¯³ª »ó´ë´Â ±×ÀÇ ÀÔ¼úÀ» ÇÇÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ¸»Çß´Ù.

"Since you cannot be my wife," said he, "you shall assuredly be my tree. I will wear you for my crown; I will decorate with you my harp and my quiver; and when the great Roman conquerors lead up the triumphal pomp to the Capitol, you shall be woven into wreaths for their brows. And, as eternal youth is mine, you also shall be always green, and your leaf know no decay." The nymph, now changed into a Laurel tree, bowed its head in grateful acknowledgment.
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book I, Daphne, lines 688 - 748]
[see image 44K: Apollo and Daphne (1625) - sculpture by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598-1680)]

"±×´ë´Â ÀÌÁ¦ ³ªÀÇ ¾Æ³»°¡ µÉ ¼ö ¾øÀ¸¹Ç·Î ³ªÀÇ ³ª¹«°¡ µÇ°Ô ÇÏÁö. ³ª´Â ³ªÀÇ ¿Õ°üÀ» À§ÇØ ±×´ë¸¦ ¾²·Á°í ÇÑ´Ù. ³ª´Â ±×´ë¸¦ °¡Áö°í ³ªÀÇ ¸®¶ó¿Í È­»ìÅëÀ» Àå½ÄÇϸ®¶ó. ±×¸®°í À§´ëÇÑ ·Î¸¶ÀÇ À屺µéÀÌ Ä«ÇÇÅ縮¿ò ¾ð´öÀ¸·Î °³¼± ÇàÁøÀ» ÇÒ ¶§, ³ª´Â ±×µéÀÇ À̸¶¿¡ ±×´ëÀÇ ÀÙÀ» ¿«Àº È­°üÀ» ¾º¿ì¸®¶ó. ±×¸®°í ¶Ç ¿µ¿øÇÑ Ã»ÃáÀ̾߸»·Î ³»°¡ ÁÖÀçÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ̹ǷΠ±×´ë´Â Ç×»ó Ǫ¸¦ °ÍÀ̸ç, ±× ÀÙÀº ½ÃµéÁö ¾Êµµ·Ï ÇØÁÖ¸®¶ó."
ÀÌ¹Ì ¿ù°è¼ö·Î ±× ¸ð½ÀÀÌ º¯ÇØ ¹ö¸° ±×³à´Â °¡Áö ³¡À» ¼÷¿© °¨»çÀÇ ¶æÀ» ³ªÅ¸³Â´Ù.

That Apollo should be the god both of music and poetry will not appear strange, but that medicine should also be assigned to his province, may. The poet Armstrong, himself a physician, thus accounts for it:



"Music exalts each joy, allays each grief,
Expels diseases, softens every pain;
And hence the wise of ancient days adored
One power of physic, melody, and song."

Apollo with lyre



The story of Apollo and Daphne is often alluded to by the poets. Waller applies it to the case of one whose amatory verses, though they did not soften the heart of his mistress, yet won for the poet wide-spread fame:

"Yet what he sung in his immortal strain,
Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain.
All but the nymph that should redress his wrong,
Attend his passion and approve his song.
Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise,
He caught at love and filled his arms with bays."
[The Story of Phoebus and Daphne, Applied]

The following stanza from Shelley's "Adonais" alludes to Byron's early quarrel with the reviewers:

"The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;
The obscene ravens, clamorous o'er the dead;
The vultures, to the conqueror's banner true,
Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
And whose wings rain contagion: how they fled,
When like Apollo, from his golden bow,
The Pythian of the age one arrow sped
And smiled! The spoilers tempt no second blow;
They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them as they go."


[Online Textbook: Barry Powell, Classical Myth, Chapter 7: Myths of the Olympian Gods: The Second Generation, Part I. Also see this chapter's Destinations page.]
[Online Textbook: Morford and Lenardon, Classical Mythology, Chapter 9: Apollo. Also see this chapter's Myth Summary and Topic Links.]

¡¡


PYRAMUS AND THISBE

Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º¿Í Ƽ½ºº£

 Pyramus was the handsomest youth, and Thisbe the fairest maiden, in all Babylonia, where Semiramis reigned. Their parents occupied adjoining houses; and neighbourhood brought the young people together, and acquaintance ripened into love. They would gladly have married, but their parents forbade. One thing, however, they could not forbid - that love should glow with equal ardour in the bosoms of both. They conversed by signs and glances, and the fire burned more intensely for being covered up. In the wall that parted the two houses there was a crack, caused by some fault in the structure. No one had remarked it before, but the lovers discovered it. What will not love discover!

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±×·¯³ª ºÎ¸ðµéµµ ±ÝÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø¾ú´ø °ÍÀº µÎ ³²³àÀÇ ½ÉÁß¿¡ ¼­·Î °°Àº Á¤µµ·Î »ç¶ûÀÇ ºÒ²ÉÀÌ Å¸¿À¸£´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù.
µÎ »ç¶÷Àº ¸öÁþÀ̳ª ´«ÁþÀ¸·Î ¼­·Î ¼Ó»è¿´°í, ³²¸ô·¡ ¼Ó»èÀÌ´Â »ç¶ûÀÎ ¸¸Å­ ±× ºÒ²ÉÀº ´õ °­·ÂÇÏ°Ô Å¸¿À¸£´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù.µÎ Áý »çÀÌÀÇ º®¿¡´Â Æ´ÀÌ ³ª ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. º®À» ¸¸µé ¶§ ¾î¶² °ú½Ç·Î ÀÎÇØ »ý±ä °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ÀÌÁ¦±îÁö ¾Æ¹«µµ ±×°ÍÀ» ¹ß°ßÇÏÁö ¸øÇßÀ¸³ª, ÀÌ ¿¬ÀεéÀº ±× Æ´À» ¹ß°ßÇß´Ù.

  It afforded a passage to the voice; and tender messages used to pass backward and forward through the gap. As they stood, Pyramus on this side, Thisbe on that, their breaths would mingle. "Cruel wall," they said, "why do you keep two lovers apart? But we will not be ungrateful. We owe you, we confess, the privilege of transmitting loving words to willing, ears." Such words they uttered on different sides of the wall; and when night came and they must say farewell, they pressed their lips upon the wall, she on her side, he on his, as they could come no nearer.

 »ç¶ûÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀ» ¹ß°ßÇÏÁö ¸øÇϰڴ°¡! ÀÌ Æ´ÀÌ µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÇ ¸»ÀÇ Åë·Î°¡ µÇ¾î ÁÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ´ÞÄÞÇÑ »ç¶÷ÀÇ ¼Ó»èÀÓÀÌ ÀÌ Æ´À» ÅëÇØ¼­ ¼­·Î ¿À°¬´Ù. Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º´Â º® ÀÌÂÊ¿¡, ±×¸®°í Ƽ½ºº£°¡ º® ÀúÂÊ¿¡ ´ë°í ¼¹À» ¶§, µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÇ ÀÔ±èÀº µÚ¼¯¿´´Ù. ±×µéÀº ¸»Çß´Ù.
"¹«Á¤ÇÑ º®ÀÌ¿©, ¿Ö ±×´ë´Â ¿ì¸® µÎ »ç¶÷À» ¶¼¾î ³õ´Â°¡. ±×·¯³ª ¿ì¸®´Â °áÄÚ ±×´ëÀÇ ÀºÇý¸¦ ÀØÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù. ¿ì¸®°¡ ÀÌ·¸°Ô »ç¶ûÀÇ ¼Ó»èÀÓÀ» ÁÖ°í¹ÞÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Â °Íµµ ´Ù ±×´ëÀÇ ´öÅÃÀ̴ϱî."
ÀÌ¿Í °°Àº ¸»À» ±×µéÀº º® ¾çÂÊ¿¡¼­ ¼Ó»è¿´´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¹ãÀÌ µÇ¾î À̺°ÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸é ¾ÈµÉ ¶§¿¡´Â ´õ °¡±îÀÌ °¥ ¼ö°¡ ¾ø¾úÀ¸¹Ç·Î, ³²ÀÚ´Â ³²ÀÚ ÂÊ º®¿¡´Ù, ¿©ÀÚ´Â ¿©ÀÚ ÂÊ º®¿¡´Ù ´ë°í Ű½º¸¦ Çß´Ù.

Next morning, when Aurora (Eos) had put out the stars, and the sun had melted the frost from the grass, they met at the accustomed spot. Then, after lamenting their hard fate, they agreed that next night, when all was still, they would slip away from the watchful eyes, leave their dwellings and walk out into the fields; and to insure a meeting, repair to a well-known edifice standing without the city's bounds, called the Tomb of Ninus, and that the one who came first should await the other at the foot of a certain tree. It was a white mulberry tree, and stood near a cool spring. All was agreed on, and they waited impatiently for the sun to go down beneath the waters and night to rise up from them. Then cautiously Thisbe stole forth, unobserved by the family, her head covered with a veil, made her way to the monument and sat down under the tree. As she sat alone in the dim light of the evening she descried a lioness, her jaws reeking with recent slaughter, approaching the fountain to slake her thirst. Thisbe fled at the sight, and sought refuge in the hollow of a rock. As she fled she dropped her veil. The lioness after drinking at the spring turned to retreat to the woods, and seeing the veil on the ground, tossed and rent it with her bloody mouth.

´ÙÀ½³¯ ¾ÆÄ§, »õº®ÀÇ ¿©½Å ¿¡¿À½º[¿À·Î¶ó]°¡ ¹ãÇÏ´ÃÀÇ º°À» Ãß¹æÇϰí žçÀÌ Ç® À§¿¡ ³»¸° À̽½À» ³ìÀÏ ¶§, µÎ »ç¶÷Àº °°Àº Àå¼Ò¿¡¼­ ¸¸³µ´Ù. µÎ »ç¶÷Àº ÀÚ±âµéÀÇ ¹«Á¤ÇÑ ¿î¸íÀ» ÇÑźÇÑ ³¡¿¡ ¸¶Ä§³» ÇÑ °èÃ¥À» ²Ù¸ì´Ù. ´ÙÀ½³¯¹ã ¸ðµç °¡Á·µéÀÌ Àáµé¾úÀ» ¶§ °¨½ÃÀÇ ´«À» ÇÇÇØ ÁýÀ» ³ª¿Í¼­ µéÆÇÀ¸·Î °¡±â·Î ÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¸¶À»ÀÇ °æ°è¼± ³Ê¸Ó¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ´Ï³ë½ºÀÇ ¹«´ýÀ̶ó°í ºÎ¸£´Â À¯¸íÇÑ ¿µ¹¦(¿µ¹¦)°¡ ÀÖ´Â °÷¿¡¼­ ¸¸³ª±â·Î Çß´Ù. ±× ³ª¹«´Â Èò »Í³ª¹«¿´°í ½Ã¿øÇÑ »ù °ç¿¡ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ¸ðµç °ÍÀÌ ÇÕÀÇµÈ ÈÄ, ±×µéÀº žçÀÌ ¹° ¹ØÀ¸·Î ³»·Á°¡°í ¹ãÀÌ ±× À§¿¡¼­ ¶°¿À¸£±â¸¦ °í´ëÇÏ¿´´Ù. ¸¶Ä§³» Ƽ½ºº£´Â ¾ó±¼À» º£ÀÏ·Î °¡¸®°í, °¡Á·µéÀÇ ´«¿¡ ¶çÁö ¾Êµµ·Ï Á¶½É½º·´°Ô ÁýÀ» ºüÁ®³ª¿Í ¾à¼ÓÇÑ °÷¿¡¼­ ¾à¼ÓÇÑ ³ª¹« ¹Ø¿¡ ¾É¾Æ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. Àú³áÀÇ ¹Ú¸í ¼Ó¿¡ ¿Ü·ÎÀÌ ¾É¾Æ ÀÖÀ¸·Á´Ï±î °Å±â¿¡ ÇÑ ¸¶¸®ÀÇ »çÀÚ°¡ ³ªÅ¸³µ´Ù. ¹æ±Ý ¹«¾ùÀ» Àâ¾Æ¸Ô¾ú´ÂÁö ÀÔ¿¡¼­ Áöµ¶ÇÑ ³¿»õ¸¦ dz±â¸ç ¹°À» ¸¶½Ã·Á°í »ùÀ» °¡±îÀÌ ´Ù°¡¿Ô´Ù. ±×°ÍÀ» º¸ÀÚ Æ¼½ºº£´Â ´Þ¾Æ³ª ¹ÙÀ§ Æ´¿¡ ¸öÀ» ¼û°å´Ù. ±×·±µ¥ ´Þ¾Æ³¯ ¶§ ±×³à´Â ¾²°í ÀÖ´ø º£ÀÏÀ» ¶³¾î¶ß¸®°í ¸»¾Ò´Ù. »çÀÚ´Â »ù¿¡¼­ ¹°À» ¸¶½ÃÀÚ ´Ù½Ã ½£ ¼ÓÀ¸·Î µ¹¾Æ°¡·Á°í ¸öÀ» µ¹ÀÌŰ´Ù ¸»°í ¶¥ À§¿¡ ¶³¾îÁ® ÀÖ´Â º£ÀÏÀ» º¸ÀÚ, Çǹ¯Àº ÀÔÀ¸·Î ±×°ÍÀ» Èֵѷ¯ ¸¶Ä§³» Âõ¾î ¹ö·È´Ù.

Pyramus, having been delayed, now approached the place of meeting. He saw in the sand the footsteps of the lion, and the colour fled from his cheeks at the sight. Presently he found the veil all rent and bloody. "O hapless girl," said he, "I have been the cause of thy death! Thou, more worthy of life than I, hast fallen the first victim. I will follow. I am the guilty cause, in tempting thee forth to a place of such peril, and not being myself on the spot to guard thee. Come forth, ye lions, from the rocks, and tear this guilty body with your teeth." He took up the veil, carried it with him to the appointed tree, and covered it with kisses and with tears. "My blood also shall stain your texture," said he, and drawing his sword plunged it into his heart. The blood spurted from the wound, and tinged the white mulberries of the tree all red; and sinking into the earth reached the roots, so that the red colour mounted through the trunk to the fruit.

Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º´Â ´Ê°Ô¼­¾ß ¾à¼ÓÇÑ Àå¼Ò·Î ´Ù°¡°¬´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¸Ó·¡ ¶¥¿¡¼­ »çÀÚÀÇ ¹ßÀÚ±¹À» ¹ß°ßÇß´Ù. ±× ¼ø°£ ±×ÀÇ ¾È»öÀÌ Ã¢¹éÇØÁ³´Ù. Àá½Ã ÈÄ ±×´Â °¥±â°¥±â Âõ¾îÁø ÇÇÅõ¼ºÀÌ º£ÀÏÀ» ¹ß°ßÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×´Â ºÎ¸£Â¢¾ú´Ù.
"¿À, °¡¿²Àº Ƽ½ºº£¿©. ±×´ë°¡ Á×Àº °ÍÀº ³ª ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù! ³ªº¸´Ùµµ ´õ »ì °¡Ä¡°¡ ÀÖ´Â ±×´ë°¡ ¸ÕÀú °¡´Ù´Ï, ³ªµµ ±×´ëÀÇ µÚ¸¦ µû¸£°Ú´Ù. ±×´ë¸¦ ÀÌ·± ¹«¼­¿î Àå¼Ò¿¡ ¿Àµµ·Ï ÇØ³õ°í Ȧ·Î ¹ö·Á µÐ ³»°¡ À߸øÀÌ´Ù. ¿À¶ó, »çÀÚµé¾Æ, ¹ÙÀ§ ¼Ó¿¡¼­ ±â¾î³ª¿À³Ê¶ó. ±×¸®°í ÀÌ Á˸¹Àº ³ðÀ» ³ÊÈñµéÀÇ ÀÌ»¡·Î ¹°¾î ¶â¾î¶ó."
Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º´Â º£ÀÏÀ» ¼Õ¿¡ µé°í ¾à¼ÓÇÑ Àå¼Ò·Î °¡¼­ ³ª¹«¸¦ ¹«¼öÇÑ Å°½º¿Í ´«¹°·Î½á Àû¼Ì´Ù.
"³ªÀÇ ÇÇ·Î ³ÊÀÇ ¸öÀ» ¹°µéÀ̸®¶ó."
±×´Â Ä®À» »©¾î ÀÚ±âÀÇ °¡½¿À» Âñ·¶´Ù. Çǰ¡ »óó·ÎºÎÅÍ »ù¼Úµí Èê·¯³»¸®ÀÚ, ±×°ÍÀº »Í³ª¹«ÀÇ ÇÏ¾á ¿­¸Å¸¦ ºÓ°Ô ¹°µé°Ô Çß´Ù. ÇÇ´Â ¶¥ À§¿¡ Èê·¯ »Ñ¸®¿¡ ¹ÌÄ¡°í ±× ºÓÀº ºû±òÀº Áٱ⸦ Ÿ°í ¿­¸Å¿¡±îÁö ¿Ã¶ó°¬´ø °ÍÀÌ´Ù.

By this time Thisbe, still trembling with fear, yet wishing not to disappoint her lover, stepped cautiously forth, looking anxiously for the youth, eager to tell him the danger she had escaped. When she came to the spot and saw the changed colour of the mulberries she doubted whether it was the same place. While she hesitated she saw the form of one struggling in the agonies of death. She started back, a shudder ran through her frame as a ripple on the face of the still water when a sudden breeze sweeps over it. But as soon as she recognized her lover, she screamed and beat her breast, embracing the lifeless body, pouring tears into its wounds, and imprinting kisses on the cold lips.

±×¶§±îÁö Ƽ½ºº£´Â °øÆ÷¿¡ ¶³°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¿¬ÀÎÀ» ½Ç¸Á½ÃÄѼ­´Â ¾ÈµÇ°Ú´Ù°í »ý°¢Çϰí Á¶½ÉÁ¶½É °É¾î ³ª¿Ô´Ù. ±×¸®°í ºÒ¾ÈÇÑ ¸¶À½À¸·Î ÀþÀºÀ̸¦ ã¾Ò´Ù. À§Çè¿¡¼­ ¹þ¾î³­ Àú ¹«¼­¿î ¾ê±â¸¦ »¡¸® ¾Ë·ÁÁÖ°í ½Í¾ú±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¾à¼ÓÇÑ Àå¼Ò·Î ¿ÔÀ¸³ª, »Í³ª¹«ÀÇ ¿­¸Å »ö±òÀÌ »¡°²°Ô º¯ÇÑ °ÍÀ» º¸°í´Â ±×°÷ÀÌ ¾à¼ÓÇÑ Àå¼ÒÀϱî Çϰí ÀǽÉÇß´Ù. ±×³à´Â Àá½Ã ÁÖÀúÇÏ´Ù°¡, ºó»ç»óÅ¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ¾î¶² »ç¶÷ÀÇ ¸ð½ÀÀ» ¹ß°ßÇß´Ù. Ƽ½ºº£´Â ±ô¦ ³î¶ó ¹°·¯¼¹´Ù. ÀüÀ²ÀÌ ±×³àÀÇ ¸öÀ» ½ºÃÆ´Ù. ±×°ÍÀº ¸¶Ä¡ ÀÜÀÜÇÑ ¼ö¸é À§¿¡ ÀÏÁøÀÇ ¹Ù¶÷ÀÌ Áö³ª°¥ ¶§ ÀϾ´Â ¹°°á°ú Èí»çÇß´Ù. ±×·¯³ª Ƽ½ºº£´Â ±× »ç¶÷ÀÌ Àڱ⠿¬ÀÎÀÓÀ» ¾ËÀÚ, ¿Ü¸¶µð¼Ò¸®¸¦ Áö¸£¸ç ÀڱⰡ½¿À» ¸¶±¸ ÃÆ´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¼ûÀÌ ´Ù ³Ñ¾î°¡´Â ±×¸¦ ¾ó½Î¾È°í »óó¿¡ ´«¹°À» ½ñÀ¸¸ç ½Î´ÃÇÑ ÀÔ¼ú¿¡ ¼ö¾øÀÌ Å°½º¸¦ ÆÛºÎ¾ú´Ù. ±×³à´Â ºÎ¸£Â¢¾ú´Ù.

"O Pyramus," she cried, "what has done this? Answer me, Pyramus; it is your own Thisbe that speaks. Hear me, dearest, and lift that drooping head!" At the name of Thisbe Pyramus opened his eyes, then closed them again. She saw her veil stained blood and the scabbard empty of its sword. "Thy own hand has slain thee, and for my sake," she said. "I too can be brave for once, and my love is as strong as thine. I will follow thee in death, for I have been the cause; and death which alone could part us shall not prevent my joining thee. And ye, unhappy parents of us both, deny us not our united request. As love and death have joined us, let one tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood." So saying she plunged the sword into her breast. Her parents ratified her wish, the gods also ratified it. The two bodies were buried in one sepulchre, and the tree ever after brought forth purple berries, as it does to this day.
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses Book IV, Pyramus and Thisbe, lines 76 - 240]

"¿À, Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º, À̰ÍÀÌ ¾îÂîµÈ ÀÏÀԴϱî. ¸» Á» Çϼ¼¿ä. Ƕ¶ó¸ð½º, ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¿ÜÄ¡°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀº ´ç½ÅÀÇ Æ¼½ºº£¿¹¿ä. ¿À¿À, Á¦¹ß ±× ´Ã¾îÁø ¸Ó¸®¸¦ µé¾î Áà¿ä!"
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"ÀÚ°áÇϼ̱º¿ä. ±×°ÍÀº ³» Å¿ÀÌ¿¹¿ä." ÇÏ°í Æ¼½ºº£´Â ¸»Çß´Ù.
"À̹ø¸¸Àº ³ªµµ ¿ë±â°¡ ÀÖ¾î¿ä. ±×¸®°í ³ªÀÇ »ç¶ûµµ ´ç½ÅÀÇ »ç¶û ¸øÁö¾Ê½À´Ï´Ù. ³ªµµ ´ç½ÅÀÇ µÚ¸¦ µû¸£·Æ´Ï´Ù. ¸ðµÎ ³ª ¶§¹®À̴ϱî¿ä. Á×À½ÀÌ ´ç½Å°ú ³ª »çÀ̸¦ °¥¶ó ³õ¾ÒÀ¸³ª, ±× Á×À½µµ °áÄÚ ³»°¡ ´ç½Å °çÀ¸·Î °¡´Â °ÍÀ» ¸·Áö ¸øÇÒ °ÍÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¿ì¸®µéÀÇ ºÒÇàÇÑ ºÎ¸ð´Ô, ¿ì¸® µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÇ Ã»À» ¹°¸®Ä¡Áö ¸¶¼Ò¼­. »ç¶û°ú Á×À½ÀÌ ÀúÈñµéÀ» °áÇÕ½ÃÄ×À¸´Ï, ÇÑ ¹«´ý¿¡ ¹¯¾î ÁֽÿɼҼ­. ±×¸®°í »Í³ª¹«¾ß. ³Ê´Â ¿ì¸®µéÀÇ Á×À½À» ±â³äÇØ ´Ù¿À. ³ÊÀÇ ¿­¸Å´Â ¿ì¸® ÇÇÀÇ ±â³äÀÌ µÇ¾î ´Ù¿À."
ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»Çϸ鼭 Ƽ½ºº£´Â Ä®·Î Àڱ⠰¡½¿À» Âñ·¶´Ù. Ƽ½ºº£ÀÇ ¾çÄ£µµ µþÀÇ ¼Ò¿øÀ» ¹Þ¾Æµé¿´°í, ½Åµéµµ ¶ÇÇÑ ±×°ÍÀ» ¿Ç´Ù°í ¿©°å´Ù. µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÇ À¯ÇØ´Â ÇÑ ¹«´ý¿¡ ¹¯Çû´Ù. ±×ÀÌ·¡ »Í³ª¹«´Â ¿À´Ã³¯±îÁö »õ»¡°£ ¿­¸Å¸¦ ¸Î°Ô µÇ¾ú´Ù.

Moore, in the "Sylph's Ball," speaking of Davy's Safety Lamp, is reminded of the wall that separated Thisbe and her lover:

"O for that Lamp's metallic gauze,
That curtain of protecting wire,
Which Davy delicately draws
Around illicit, dangerous fire!

The wall he sets 'twixt Flame and Air,
(Like that which barred young Thisbe's bliss,)
Through whose small holes this dangerous pair
May see each other, but not kiss."

In Mickle's translation of the "Lusiad" occurs the following allusion to the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, and the metamorphosis of the mulberries. The poet is describing the Island of Love:

"...here each gift of Pomona's hand bestows
In cultured garden, free uncultured flows,
The flavour sweeter and the hue more fair
Than e'er was fostered by the hand of care.
The cherry here in shining crimson glows,
And stained with lovers' blood, in pendent rows,
The mulberries o'erload the bending boughs."

If any of our young readers can be so hard-hearted as to enjoy a laugh at the expense of poor Pyramus and Thisbe, they may find an opportunity by turning to Shakespeare's play of the "Midsummer Night's Dream," where it is most amusingly burlesqued.

[Note from Morford and Lenardon's Classical Mythology, Chapter 23:
"Ovid says that his tale of Pyramus and Thisbe is 'not well-known,' but thanks to him it has become one of the best-known of all his tales (Book 4 of the Metamorphoses). Among the many poets who have narrated it are Petrarch (1340), Boccaccio (1343), Chaucer (1386, in The Legende of Goode Women). Best known of all is Shakespeare's double use of it in A Midsummer Night's Dream (1596), where the main plot follows the legend with its lovers' errors and meetings outside the city, while the 'Rude Mechanicals' of Act 5 have endeared their hilarious version to audiences of all ages."]

¡¡

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CEPHALUS AND PROCRIS

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º¿Í ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º

Cephalus was a beautiful youth and fond of manly sports. He would rise before the dawn to pursue the chase.  Aurora (Eos) saw him when she first looked forth, fell in love with him, and stole him away. But Cephalus was just married to a charming wife whom he devotedly loved. Her name was Procris. 

Procris gives her javelin and dog to Cephalus

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ÀþÀºÀÌ·Î »ç³»´Ù¿î ½ºÆ÷Ã÷¸¦ ÁÁ¾ÆÇß´Ù. ±×´Â ÇØ°¡ ¶ß±â Àü¿¡ ÀϾ¼­ Áü½ÂÀ» Ãß°ÝÇϱⰡ ÀϾ¥¿´´Ù. »õº®ÀÇ ¿©½Å ¿¡¿À½º°¡ óÀ½À¸·Î Áö»ó¿¡ ¾ó±¼À» ³»¹Ð¾úÀ» ¶§, ÀÌ ÀþÀºÀ̸¦ º¸´Â ¼ø°£ ¸ø °ßµðµµ·Ï ±×°¡ ÁÁ¾ÆÁ® ¸¶Ä§³» ±×¸¦ ³³Ä¡ÇØ ¹ö·È´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¾Æ³»¿Í ÃÖ±Ù¿¡ °áÈ¥ÇÏ¿© ¿­·ÄÇÏ°Ô »ç¶ûÇϰí ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ¾Æ³»ÀÇ À̸§Àº ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º¿´´Ù.

She was a favourite of Diana (Artemis), the goddess of hunting, who had given her a dog which could outrun every rival, and a javelin which would never fail of its mark; and Procris gave these presents to her husband. Cephalus was so happy in his wife that he resisted all the entreaties of Aurora, and she finally dismissed him in displeasure, saying, "Go, ungrateful mortal, keep your wife, whom, if I am not much mistaken, you will one day be very sorry you ever saw again."
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses Book VII, Cephalus and Procris, lines 1077 - 1250]

 ±×³à´Â ¼ö·ÆÀÇ ¿©½Å ¾Æ¸£Å׹̽ºÀÇ ÃѾָ¦ ¹Þ¾Ò°í ¿©½ÅÀº ±×³à¿¡°Ô ¾î¶² °³º¸´Ùµµ »¡¸® ´Þ¸®´Â °³ ÇÑ ¸¶¸®¿Í, ±× Ç¥ÀûÀ» Ʋ¸²¾øÀÌ ¸ÂÈ÷´Â Åõâ(Åõâ)À» ÁÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º´Â ÀÌ µÎ ¼±¹°À» ³²Æí¿¡°Ô ÁÖ¾ú´Ù. ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ±× ¾Æ³»¿¡°Ô¼­ ¸¸Á·À» ´À³¢°í ÀÖ¾ú±â ¶§¹®¿¡ ¿¡¿À½ºÀÇ °£Ã»À» ¹Þ¾ÆµéÀÌÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù. ¸¶Ä§³» ¿¡¿À½º´Â ³ëÇÏ¿© "°¡°Å¶ó, ÀÌ ¹èÀº¸Á´öÇÑ ³ð¾Æ, ¿©Æí³×³ª ¼ÒÁßÈ÷ ÇØ¶ó. ¹Ýµå½Ã ±×³âÇÑÅ× µ¹¾Æ°£ °ÍÀ» ÈÄȸÇÒ ¶§°¡ ¿Ã °ÍÀÌ´Ù."°í Çϸ鼭 ±×¸¦ ³õ¾Æ ÁÖ¾ú´Ù.

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Cephalus returned, and was as happy as ever in his wife and his woodland sports. 

Now it happened some angry deity had sent a ravenous fox to annoy the country; and the hunters turned out in great strength to capture it. Their efforts were all in vain; no dog could run it down; and at last they came to Cephalus to borrow his famous dog, whose name was Lelaps. No sooner was the dog let loose than he darted off, quicker than their eye could allow him. If they had not seen his footprints in the sand they would have thought he flew. Cephalus and others stood on a hill and saw the race. The fox tried every art; he ran in a circle and turned on his track, the dog close upon him, with open jaws, snapping at his heels, but biting only the air. Cephalus was about to use his javelin, when suddenly he saw both dog and game stop instantly, The heavenly powers who had given both were not willing that either should conquer. In the very attitude of life and action they were turned into stone. So lifelike and natural did they look, you would have thought, as you looked at them, that one was going to bark, the other to leap forward.

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ÁýÀ¸·Î µ¹¾Æ°¬´Ù. ±×¸®°í Àü°ú °°ÀÌ ±×ÀÇ ¾Æ³»¿Í ´õºÒ¾î »ç³ÉÀ» Áñ±â¸ç ÇູÇÑ»ýȰÀ» ´©·È´Ù.

Cephalus, though he had lost his dog, still continued to take delight in the chase. 

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 He would go out at early morning, ranging the woods and hills unaccompanied by any one needing no help, for his javelin was a sure weapon in all cases. Fatigued with hunting, when the sun got high he would seek a shady nook where a cool stream flowed, and, stretched on the grass, with his garments thrown aside, would enjoy the breeze. Sometimes he would say aloud, "Come, sweet breeze, come and fan my breast, come and, lily the heat that burns me."

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ¾ÆÄ§ ÀÏÂïÀÌ ÁýÀ» ³ª¿Í ¾Æ¹«µµ µ¿¹ÝÇÏÁö ¾Ê°í ½£°ú ¾ð´öÀ» Çì¸Ì´Ù. ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×ÀÇ Ã¢Àº ¾î¶°ÇÑ °æ¿ì¿¡µµ ºø³ª°¡´Â ÀÏÀÌ ¾ø´Â È®½ÇÇÑ ¹«±â¿´±â ¶§¹®À̾ú´Ù. »ç³É¿¡ ÁöÄ¡°Å³ª ÇØ°¡ Áßõ¿¡ ¿À¸¥ ¶§´Â ³Á°¡¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ¼­´ÃÇÑ ³ª¹« ±×´ÃÀ» ã¾Æ ¿ô¿ÊÀ» ¹þ°í Ç® À§¿¡ ´©¿ö ¼­´ÃÇÑ ¹Ù¶÷À» Áñ°å´Ù.
¶§·Î´Â ¼Ò¸® ³ôÀÌ "¿À¶ó, °¨¹Ì·Î¿î ¹Ù¶÷¾Æ, ¿Í¼­ ³» °¡½¿¿¡ ºÎäÁúÀ» ÇØ´Ù¿À. ¿À¶ó, ³ª¸¦ ºÒÅ¿ì´Â ¿­À» ½ÄÇô ´Ù¿À."ÇÏ°í ¿ÜÄ¡´Â °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù.

 Some one passing by one day heard him talking in this way to the air, and, foolishly believing, that he was talking to some maiden, went and told the secret to Procris, Cephalus's wife. Love is credulous. Procris, at the sudden shock, fainted away. Presently recovering, she said, "It cannot be true; I will not believe it unless I myself am a witness to it." So she waited, with anxious heart, till the next morning, when Cephalus went to hunt as usual. Then she stole out after him, and concealed herself in the place where the informer directed her. 

Cephalus came as he was wont when tired with sport, and stretched himself on the green bank, saying, "Come, sweet breeze, come and fan me; you know how I love you! you make the groves and my solitary rambles delightful." He was running on in this way when he heard, or thought he heard, a sound as of a sob in the bushes. Supposing it some wild animal, he threw his javelin at the spot. A cry from his beloved Procris told him that the weapon had too surely met its mark. He rushed to the place, and found her bleeding, and with sinking strength endeavouring to draw forth from the wound the javelin, her own gift. 

Cephalus raised her from the earth, strove to stanch the blood, and called her to revive and not to leave him miserable, to reproach himself with her death. She opened her feeble eyes, and forced herself to utter these few words: "I implore you, if you have ever loved me, if I have ever deserved kindness at your hands, my husband, grant me this last request; do not marry that odious Breeze!" This disclosed the whole mystery: but alas! what advantage to disclose it now? She died; but her face wore a calm expression, and she looked pityingly and forgivingly on her husband when he made her understand the truth.
[see source: Ovid's Metamorphoses Book VII, Cephalus and Procris, lines 1251 - 1412]
[see image 47K: The Death of Procris (1510) - painting by Piero di Cosimo (1462-1521)]

Moore, in his "Legendary Ballads," has one on Cephalus and Procris, beginning thus:

"A hunter once in a grove reclined,
To shun the noon's bright eye,
And oft he wooed the wandering wind
To cool his brow with its sigh.
While mute lay even the wild bee's hum,
Nor breath could stir the aspen's hair,
His song was still, 'Sweet Air, O come!'
While Echo answered, 'Come, sweet Air!'"

¾î´À ³¯, ¾î¶² »ç¶÷ÀÌ Áö³ª°¡´Ù°¡ ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º°¡ ÀÌ¿Í °°ÀÌ ¹ÌdzÀ» ÇâÇØ À̾߱âÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ» µè°í ¾î¸®¼®°Ôµµ ¾î¶² ó³à¿Í À̾߱âÇÏ´Â ÁÙ ¾Ë°í, ÀÌ ºñ¹ÐÀ» ÄÉÆÈ·Î½ºÀÇ ¾Æ³» ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º¿¡°Ô °¡¼­ ÀüÇß´Ù. »ç¶ûÀ̶õ ¼Ó±â ½¬¿î °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º´Â ¶æÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀº ¾ê±â¸¦ µè°í ±âÀýÇØ ¹ö·È´Ù. ÇÑÂü ¸¸¿¡ ±ú¾î³­ ±×³à´Â ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»Çß´Ù.
"±×·² ¸® ¾ø´Ù. ³» ´«À¸·Î º¸±â Àü¿¡´Â ¹ÏÁö ¾Ê°Ú´Ù."
±×¸®ÇÏ¿© ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º´Â °¡½¿À» ÁË¸ç ´ÙÀ½³¯ ¾ÆÄ§À» ±â´Ù·È´Ù. ¾ÆÄ§ÀÌ µÇÀÚ, ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ¿©´À ³¯°ú ´Ù¸§¾øÀÌ »ç³ÉÇÏ·¯ ³ª°¬´Ù. ±×³à´Â ¸ô·¡ ±×ÀÇ µÚ¸¦ ÂѾҴÙ. ±×¸®°í ¹Ð°íÀÚ°¡ ¾Ë·ÁÁØ Àå¼Ò¿¡ °¡¼­ ¸öÀ» ¼û±â°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. 

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â »ç³É¿¡ ÁöÄ¡ÀÚ ´Ã ÇÏ´Â ¹ö¸©´ë·Î ³Á°¡·Î ´Þ·Á°¡ Ç® À§¿¡ ¹ú·· µå·¯´©¿ü´Ù.
"¿À¶ó, °¨¹Ì·Î¿î ¹Ù¶÷¾Æ, ¿Í¼­ ³ª¿¡°Ô ºÎäÁúÀ» ÇÏ¿©´Ù¿À. ³»°¡ ¾ó¸¶³ª ³Ê¸¦ »ç¶ûÇÏ´ÂÁö´Â ³Êµµ Àß ¾ËÁö. ³×°¡ Àֱ⠶§¹®¿¡ ½£µµ, ³ªÀÇ ¿Ü·Î¿î »êº¸µµ Áñ°Ì´Ü´Ù."
ÀÌ¿Í °°ÀÌ Áß¾ó°Å¸®°í Àִµ¥ °©Àڱ⠽£ ¼Ó¿¡¼­ Èå´À³¢´Â ¼Ò¸®°¡ ¾î·ÅDzÀÌ µé·Á¿Ô´Ù. ¼ø°£ ¾ß¼ö°¡ ¾Æ´Ñ°¡ »ý°¢ÇÏ°í ¼Ò¸®³ª´Â °÷À» ÇâÇØ¼­ âÀ» Èû²¯ ´øÁ³´Ù. »ç¶ûÇÏ´Â ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½ºÀÇ ¿Ü¸¶µð ¼Ò¸®°¡ µé·Á¿ÀÀÚ, ´øÁø âÀÌ Ç¥ÀûÀ» Á¤È®È÷ ¸ÂÇû´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë ¼ö ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º°¡ ±× Àå¼Ò·Î ´Þ·Á°¡ º¸´Ï ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º´Â ÇǸ¦ È긮¸é¼­ ÀڱⰡ ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º¿¡°Ô ¼±¹°·Î ÁØ Ã¢À» ÀÖ´Â ÈûÀ» ´ÙÇÏ¿© »óó¿¡¼­ »©³»·Á°í ¾Ö¸¦ ¾²°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. 

ÄÉÆÈ·Î½º´Â ±×³à¸¦ ¾È¾Æ ÀÏÀ¸Å°°í ÃâÇ÷À» ¸·À¸·Á°í Çß´Ù. ±×¸®°í "Á¤½Å Â÷·Á¿ä. ³ª¸¦ µÎ°í ¾îµð·Î °£´Ü ¸»ÀÌ¿À. ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¾ø´Â ³ª´Â °¡¿²Àº ½Å¼¼°¡ µÇÁö ¾Ê°Ú¼Ò. Á×À½À¸·Î½á ³ª¸¦ ¹úÇÏÁö ¸»¾Æ¿ä." ÇÏ°í ¿ÜÃÆ´Ù. ±×·¯ÀÚ ±×³à´Â »ì±×¸Ó´Ï ´«À» ¶ß°í °¡±î½º·Î ´ÙÀ½°ú °°Àº ¸»À» ÀÔ¿¡ ¿Ã·È´Ù.
"¿©º¸, ´ç½ÅÀÌ ³ª¸¦ »ç¶ûÇÑ ÀÏÀÌ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù¸é, ±×¸®°í ¸¸ÀÏ ³»°¡ ´ç½ÅÀÇ »ç¶ûÀ» ¹ÞÀ» ¸¸ÇÑ °¡Ä¡°¡ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù¸é Á¦¹ß ÀÌ ÃÖÈÄÀÇ ¼Ò¿øÀ» µé¾î ÁÖ¼¼¿ä. ±× ¾â¹Ì¿î ¹Ìdz(¹Ìdz)Çϰí´Â °áÈ¥ÇÏÁö ¸»¾Æ ÁÖ¼¼¿ä."
ÀÌ ¸»·Î ¸ðµç ºñ¹ÐÀº ¹àÇôÁ³´Ù. ±×·¯³ª Áö±Ý ±×°ÍÀ» ¹àÈùµé ¹«½¼ ¼Ò¿ëÀÌ ÀÖÀ¸·ª. ÇÁ·ÎÅ©¸®½º´Â ¼ûÀ» °ÅµÎ¾ú´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±× ¾ó±¼¿¡´Â Á¶¿ëÇÑ Ç¥Á¤ÀÌ ¶°¿À¸£°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸®°í ³²ÆíÀÌ »ç°ÇÀÇ Áø»óÀ» ¼³¸íÇÒ ¶§, ±×³à´Â »ç¶ûÇÏ´Â ³²ÆíÀÇ ¾ó±¼À» ¿ë¼­ÇϵíÀÌ ¹°²ô·¯¹Ì ÀÀ½ÃÇϰí ÀÖ¾ú´Ù.

Back to Chapter II
On to Chapter IV

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