Ceyx

And Peleus was a happy father and

a happy husband—one completely blessed

if he had not, by fatal accident,

killed Phocus, his half-brother. And for that

bloodstain, his father’s house was barred to him;

and he sought refuge in the land of Trachin.

There, Ceyx, son of Lucifer, was king;

there, not by force or acts of blood, he reigned

with all his father’s radiance in his face.

But at the time when Peleus reached his realm,

the king was sad, unrecognizable,

in mourning for the loss of his own brother.

 

His journey had been long, his cares were many;

when Peleus came to Trachin, he was weary.

Outside the walls, within a shaded valley,

he left the flocks and herds he’d taken with him:

with but few men, he entered Ceyx’ city.

As soon as he was given leave to see

King Ceyx, he came forward; suppliant,

he held an olive bough that had been wrapped

in woolen bands whose borders veiled his hands,

as he announced his name and lineage.

The one thing that he hid was his own crime;

and, to explain his flight, he told a lie.

And then he pleaded for a chance to find

some way, in town or country, to provide

a new life for himself. The king was kind:

“This realm is hardly inhospitable;

its gods are open even to the humble,

o Peleus. There’s not only our goodwill,

there are your own rich merits: you can claim

much fame—and are a grandson of great Jove.

Don’t waste your time on pleas; you will receive

all that you seek; and everything you see

is yours to share and use. If only we

 

Latin [266–88]

 

could offer greater joy to meet your needs!”

Here Ceyx wept. And Peleus and his men

asked for the cause of his profound lament.