#caunus

[effulgentpoet]

mythology aesthetics

CAUNUS & BYBLIS

In Greek mythology, Byblis was the nymph of a spring near the town of Byblis in Caria. She was originally a girl who fell in love with her twin brother Caunus. When he refused her she attempted to take her own life in despair but was saved by the Nymphs who transformed her into a nymph and made a spring which appeared from her incessant tears.

[insanlardan-bir-insan]

[mvaljean525]

Let the sad Fate of wretched Byblis prove A dismal Warning to unlawful Love; One Birth gave Being to the hapless Pair, But more was Caunus than a Sister's Care; Unknown she lov'd, for yet the gentle Fire Rose not in Flames, nor kindled to Desire; 'Twas thought no Sin to wonder at his Charms, Hang on his Neck, and languish in his Arms; Thus wing'd with Joy, fled the soft Hours away, And all the fatal Guilt on harmless Nature lay. But Love (too soon from Piety declin'd) Insensibly deprav'd her yielding Mind Dress'd she appears, with nicest Art adorn'd, And ev'ry Youth, but her lov'd Brother, scorn'd; For him alone she labour'd to be fair, And curst all Charms that might with hers compare 'Twas she, and only she, must Caunus please, Sick at her Heart, yet knew not her Disease: She call'd him Lord, for Brother was a Name Too cold, and dull for her aspiring Flame; And when he spoke, if Sister, he reply'd, For Byblis change that frozen Word, she cry'd; Yet waking still she watch'd her strugling Breast, And Love's Approaches were in vain address'd, Till gentle Sleep an easy Conquest made, And in her soft Embrace the Conqueror was laid. But oh too soon the pleasing Vision fled, And left her blushing on the conscious Bed: Ah me! (she cry'd) how monstrous do I seem? Why these wild Thoughts? and this incestuous Dream? Envy herself (tis true) must own his Charms, But what is Beauty in a Sister's Arms? Oh were I not that despicable she, How bless'd, how pleas'd, how happy shou'd I be! But unregarded now must bear my Pain, And, but in Dreams, my Wishes can obtain. O Sea-born Goddess! with thy wanton Boy! Was ever such a charming Scene of Joy? Such perfect Bliss! such ravishing Delight! Ne'er hid before in the kind Shades of Night. How pleas'd my Heart! in what sweet Raptures tost? Ev'n Life itself in the soft Combat lost, While breathless he on my heav'd Bosom lay, And snatch'd the Treasures of my Soul away. If the bare Fancy so affects my Mind, How shou'd I rave if to the Substance join'd? Oh, gentle Caunus! quit thy hated Line, Or let thy Parents be no longer mine! Oh that in common all things were enjoy'd, But those alone who have our Hopes destroy'd. Were I a Princess, thou an humble Swain, The proudest Kings shou'd rival thee in vain. It cannot be, alas! the dreadful Ill Is fix'd by Fate, and he's my Brother still. Hear me, ye Gods! I must have Friends in Heav'n, For Jove himself was to a Sister giv'n: But what are their Prerogatives above, To the short Liberties of humane Love? Fantastick Thoughts! down, down, forbidden Fires, Or instant Death extinguish my Desires, Strict Virtue, then, with thy malicious Leave, Without a Crime I may a Kiss receive: But say shou'd I in spight of Laws comply, Yet cruel Caunus might himself deny, No Pity take of an afflicted Maid, (For Love's sweet Game must be by Couples play'd.) Yet why shou'd Youth and Charms like mine despair? Such Fears ne'er startled the Æolian Pair; No Ties of Blood could their full Hopes destroy, They broke thro all for the prevailing Joy; And who can tell but Caunus too may be Rack'd and tormented in his Breast for me? Like me, to the extreamest Anguish drove, Like me, just waking from a Dream of Love? But stay! Oh whither wou'd my Fury run! What Arguments I urge to be undone! Away fond Byblis , quench these guilty Flames; Caunus thy Love but as a Brother claims; Yet had he first been touch'd with Love of me, The charming Youth cou'd I despairing see? Oppress'd with Grief, and dying by Disdain? Ah no! too sure I shou'd have cas'd his Pain? Since then, if Caunus ask'd me, it were done; Asking my self, what Dangers can I run? But canst thou ask? and see that Right betray'd, From Pyrrha down to thy whole Sex convey'd? That self-denying Gift we all enjoy, Of wishing to be won, yet seeming to be coy. Well then, for once, let a fond Mistress woe, The Force of Love no Custom can subdue; This frantick Passion he by Words shall know, Soft as the melting Heart from whence they flow. The Pencil then in her fair Hand she held, By Fear discourag'd, but by Love compell'd; She writes, then blots, writes on, and blots again, Likes it as fit, then razes it as vain: Shame and Assurance in her Face appear, And a faint Hope just yielding to Despair; Sister was wrote, and blotted as a Word Which she, and Caunus too (she hop'd) abhorr'd; But now resolv'd to be no more controul'd By scrup'lous Virtue, thus her Grief she told. Thy Lover (gentle Caunus ) wishes thee That Health, which thou alone canst give to me. O charming Youth, the Gift I ask bestow, E're thou the Name of the fond Writer know; To thee without a Name I would be known, Since knowing that, my Frailty I must own. Yet why shou'd I my wretched Name conceal? When thousand Instances my Flames reveal: Wan Looks and weeping Eyes have spoke my Pain, And Sighs discharg'd from my heav'd Heart in vain; Had I not wish'd my Passion might be seen, What cou'd such Fondness and Embraces mean? Such Kisses too! (Oh heedless lovely Boy) Without a Crime no Sister cou'd enjoy: Yet (tho' extreamest Rage has rack'd my Soul, And raging Fires in my parch'd Bosom roul) Be Witness, Gods! how piously I strove, To rid my Thoughts of this enchanting Love. But who cou'd scape so fierce and sure a Dart, Aim'd at a tender and defenceless Heart? Alas! what Maid cou'd suffer I have born, E're the dire Secret from my Breast was torn; To thee a helpless vanquish'd Wretch I come, 'Tis you alone can save, or give my Doom; My Life or Death this Moment you may chuse, Yet think, Oh think, no hated Stranger sues, No Foe, but one, alas! too near ally'd, And wishing still much nearer to be ty'd. The Forms of Decency let Age debate, And Virtue's Rules by their cold Morals state; Their ebbing Joys give Leisure to enquire, And blame those noble Flights our Youth inspire: Where Nature kindly summons let us go, Our sprightly Years no Bounds in Love shou'd know, Shou'd feel no Check of Guilt, and fear no Ill; Lovers and Gods act all things at their Will: We gain one Blessing from our hated Kin, Since our Paternal Freedom hides the Sin; Uncensur'd in each others Arms we lye, Think then how casy to compleat our Joy Oh pardon, and oblige a blushing Maid, Whose Rage the Pride of her vain Sex betray'd; Nor let my Tomb thus mournfully complain, Here Byblis lies, by her lov'd Caunus slain. Forc'd here to end, she with a falling Tear Temper'd the pliant Wax, which did the Signet bear: The curious Cypher was impress'd by Art, But Love had stamp'd one deeper in her Heart; Her Page, a Youth of Confidence and Skill, (Secret as Night) stood waiting on her Will; Sighing (she cry'd) bear this, thou faithful Boy, To my sweet Part'ner in eternal Joy: Here a long Pause her secret Guilt confess'd, And when at length she wou'd have spoke the rest, Half the dear Name lay bury'd in her Breast. Thus as he listned to her vain Command, Down fell the Letter from her trembling Hand. The Omen shock'd her Soul: Yet go, she cry'd; Can a Request from Byblis be deny'd? To the Maeandrian Youth's this Message born, The half-read Lines by his fierce Rage were torn; Hence, hence, he cry'd, thou Pandar to her Lust, Bear hence the Triumph of thy impious Trust: Thy instant Death will but divulge her Shame, Or thy Life's Blood shou'd quench the guilty Flame. Frighted, from threatning Caunus he withdrew, And with the dreadful News to his lost Mistress flew. The sad Repulse so struck the wounded Fair, Her Sense was buried in her wild Despair; Pale was her Visage, as the ghastly D'ead, And her scar'd Soul from the sweet Mansion fled; Yet with her Life renew'd, her Love returns, And faintly thus her cruel Fate she mourns: 'Tis just, ye Gods! was my false Reason blind To write a Secret of this tender kind With female Craft I shou'd at first have strove, By dubious Hints to sound his distant Love; And try'd those useful, tho' dissembled, Arts Which Women practise on disdainful Hearts I shou'd have watch'd whence the black Storm might rise, E're I had trusted the unfaithful Skies. Now on the rouling Billows I am tost, And with extended Sails, on the blind Shelves am lost. Did not indulgent Heav'n my Doom foretell, When from my Hand the fatal Letter fell? What Madness seiz'd my Soul? and urg'd me on To take the only Course to be undone? I cou'd my self have told the moving Tale With such alluring Grace as must prevail; Then had his Eyes beheld my blushing Fears, My rising Sighs, and my descending Tears; Round his dear Neck these Arms I then had spread, And, if rejected, at his Feet been dead: If singly these had not his Thoughts inclin'd, Yet all united wou'd have shock'd his Mind. Perhaps, my careless Page might be in fault, And in a luckless Hour the fatal Message brought; Business, and worldly Thoughts might fill his Breast, Sometimes ev'n Love itself may be an irksome Guest: He cou'd not else have treated me with Scorn, For Caunus was not of a Tygress born; Nor Steel nor Adamant has fenc'd his Heart, Like mine 'tis naked to the burning Dart. Away false Fears! he must, he shall he mine, In Death alone I will my Claim resign; 'Tis vain to wish my written Crime unknown, And for my Guilt much vainer to attone. Repuls'd, and baffled, fiercer still she burns, And Caunus with Disdain her impious Love returns. He saw no End of her injurious Flame, And fled his Country to avoid the Shame. Forsaken Byblis , who had Hopes no more, Burst out in Rage, and her loose Robes she tore; With her fair Hands she smote her tender Breast, And to the wondring World her Love confess'd; O'er Hills and Dales, o'er Rocks and Streams she flew, But still in vain did her wild Lust pursue: Wearied at length, on the cold Earth she fell, And now in Tears alone cou'd her sad Story tell. Relenting Gods, in Pity, fix'd her there, And to a Fountain turn'd the weeping Fair.

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The Passion of Byblis

Stephen Harvey

Original Author: Ovid / Pūblius Ovidius Nāsō  43 BC - 18 AD  

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Graphic - William-Adolphe Bouguereau  1825-1905

[aluckycharm]

Byblis' dream

[elise-yaxley]

Oddly enough, the evening was turning out better than expected. At first, Elise was hesitant about accepting a date with Caunus, but if she really had to think it through, she knew there was no way around it.  If she really was bound to marry the man one day, then she might as well find a way to get to know him better, and maybe even like him. And, really, the way everything was happening, he was proving to be fairly interesting. He definitely appeared so much more different than she had first pictured him from those few polite conversations they have had over the years.

“I won’t lie, I wasn’t expecting much out of this.” Elise spoke as they walked back towards the castle. Even the day itself was warm enough in comparison. “I’m almost upset we didn’t do this sooner.” @mirroredsorrows​

[elise-yaxley]

It didn’t take long for Elise to find herself at the afterparty. If she wasn’t studying, or trying to learn more about healing, she was out drinking, still figuring that it was the best way to deal with everything that was on her mind. She had ended up watching the game, even if it wasn’t really something she was completely into, yet she was there, at the party, almost immediately, finding herself her own bottle. There was way too much on her mind- and in her life- for her not to deal with it using booze.

And it seemed just fine; she got to enjoy herself, she got to see people smiling and dancing. It was a rarity, after the past few months, and she genuinely enjoyed it, soon getting lost in the music, in the drinking, in letting loose. A smile remained on her face as Elise waltzed past the crowd, only to react a moment later when realization dawned on her. It was a familiar face- one she’d need to familiarize herself with better. “Oh- hey.” @mirroredsorrows​