Such spot's at Cumae, where the mountains smoke, Charged with the pungent sulphur, and increased With steaming springs. And such a spot there is Within the walls of Athens, even there On summit of Acropolis, beside Fane of Tritonian Pallas bountiful, Where never cawing crows can wing their course, Not even when smoke the altars with good gifts,-But evermore they flee- yet not from wrath Of Pallas, grieved at that espial old, As poets of the Greeks have sung the tale;But very nature of the place compels.
In Syria also- as men say- a spot Is to be seen, where also four-foot kinds, As soon as ever they've set their steps within, Collapse, o'ercome by its essential power, As if there slaughtered to the under-gods.
Lo, all these wonders work by natural law, And from what causes they are brought to pass The origin is manifest; so, haply, Let none believe that in these regions stands The gate of Orcus, nor us then suppose, Haply, that thence the under-gods draw down Souls to dark shores of Acheron- as stags, The wing-footed, are thought to draw to light, By sniffing nostrils, from their dusky lairs The wriggling generations of wild snakes.
How far removed from true reason is this, Perceive thou straight; for now I'll try to say Somewhat about the very fact.
And, first, This do I say, as oft I've said before:
In earth are atoms of things of every sort;And know, these all thus rise from out the earth-Many life-giving which be good for food, And many which can generate disease And hasten death, O many primal seeds Of many things in many modes- since earth Contains them mingled and gives forth discrete.
And we have shown before that certain things Be unto certain creatures suited more For ends of life, by virtue of a nature, A texture, and primordial shapes, unlike For kinds alike. Then too 'tis thine to see How many things oppressive be and foul To man, and to sensation most malign:
Many meander miserably through ears;
Many in-wind athrough the nostrils too, Malign and harsh when mortal draws a breath;Of not a few must one avoid the touch;
Of not a few must one escape the sight;
And some there be all loathsome to the taste;And many, besides, relax the languid limbs Along the frame, and undermine the soul In its abodes within. To certain trees There hath been given so dolorous a shade That often they gender achings of the head, If one but be beneath, outstretched on the sward.
There is, again, on Helicon's high hills A tree that's wont to kill a man outright By fetid odour of its very flower.
And when the pungent stench of the night-lamp, Extinguished but a moment since, assails The nostrils, then and there it puts to sleep A man afflicted with the falling sickness And foamings at the mouth. A woman, too, At the heavy castor drowses back in chair, And from her delicate fingers slips away Her gaudy handiwork, if haply she Hath got the whiff at menstruation-time.
Once more, if thou delayest in hot baths, When thou art over-full, how readily From stool in middle of the steaming water Thou tumblest in a fit! How readily The heavy fumes of charcoal wind their way Into the brain, unless beforehand we Of water 've drunk. But when a burning fever, O'ermastering man, hath seized upon his limbs, Then odour of wine is like a hammer-blow.
And seest thou not how in the very earth Sulphur is gendered and bitumen thickens With noisome stench?- What direful stenches, too, Scaptensula out-breathes from down below, When men pursue the veins of silver and gold, With pick-axe probing round the hidden realms Deep in the earth?- Or what of deadly bane The mines of gold exhale? O what a look, And what a ghastly hue they give to men!
And seest thou not, or hearest, how they're wont In little time to perish, and how fail The life-stores in those folk whom mighty power Of grim necessity confineth there In such a task? Thus, this telluric earth Out-streams with all these dread effluvia And breathes them out into the open world And into the visible regions under heaven.
Thus, too, those Birdless places must up-send An essence bearing death to winged things, Which from the earth rises into the breezes To poison part of skiey space, and when Thither the winged is on pennons borne, There, seized by the unseen poison, 'tis ensnared, And from the horizontal of its flight Drops to the spot whence sprang the effluvium.
And when 'thas there collapsed, then the same power Of that effluvium takes from all its limbs The relics of its life. That power first strikes The creatures with a wildering dizziness, And then thereafter, when they're once down-fallen Into the poison's very fountains, then Life, too, they vomit out perforce, because So thick the stores of bane around them fume.
Again, at times it happens that this power, This exhalation of the Birdless places, Dispels the air betwixt the ground and birds, Leaving well-nigh a void. And thither when In horizontal flight the birds have come, Forthwith their buoyancy of pennons limps, All useless, and each effort of both wings Falls out in vain. Here, when without all power To buoy themselves and on their wings to lean, Lo, nature constrains them by their weight to slip Down to the earth, and lying prostrate there Along the well-nigh empty void, they spend Their souls through all the openings of their frame.
. . . . . .
Further, the water of wells is colder then At summer time, because the earth by heat Is rarefied, and sends abroad in air Whatever seeds it peradventure have Of its own fiery exhalations.
The more, then, the telluric ground is drained Of heat, the colder grows the water hid Within the earth. Further, when all the earth Is by the cold compressed, and thus contracts And, so to say, concretes, it happens, lo, That by contracting it expresses then Into the wells what heat it bears itself.
'Tis said at Hammon's fane a fountain is, In daylight cold and hot in time of night.