The sight was quite enough; the flame of love
had taken Tereus, as if one had set
afire ripe grain, dry leaves, or a haystack.
It's true she's fair, but he is also spurred
by venery, an inborn tribal urge.
The vice inflaming him is both is own
and that dark fire which burns in Thracian souls.
His impulse was to buy his way with her,
to bribe her closest friends or faithful nurse
and then, when he'd corrupted them, to tempt
the girl himself, though that might cost his kingdom;
or else to ravish her, and the defend
his rape by waging unrelenting war. (6.455-464)
(Iphis to herself):
"Even now there's no
desire of mine that's been denied; the gods
have been benevolent – they've given me
as much as they could give; and what I want
is what my father and Ianthe want,
and what my future father-in-law wants.
It's nature, with more power than all of these,
that does not want it: my sole enemy
is nature! Now the longed-for moment nears,
my wedding day is close at hand: Ianthe
will soon be mine – but won't belong to me." (9.755-761)
[Pygmalion] is enchanted and, within his heart,
the likeness of a body now ignites
a flame. He often lifts his hand to try
his work, to see if it indeed is flesh
or ivory; he still will not admit
it is but ivory. He kisses it:
it seems to him that, in return, he's kissed.
He speaks to it, embraces it; at each
caress, the image seems to yield beneath
his fingers: and he is afraid he'll leave
some sign, some bruise. (10.252-258)