第69章

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.

This fountain men be-wonder over-much, And think that suddenly it seethes in heat By intense sun, the subterranean, when Night with her terrible murk hath cloaked the lands-What's not true reasoning by a long remove:

I' faith when sun o'erhead, touching with beams An open body of water, had no power To render it hot upon its upper side, Though his high light possess such burning glare, How, then, can he, when under the gross earth, Make water boil and glut with fiery heat?-And, specially, since scarcely potent he Through hedging walls of houses to inject His exhalations hot, with ardent rays.

What, then's, the principle? Why, this, indeed:

The earth about that spring is porous more Than elsewhere the telluric ground, and be Many the seeds of fire hard by the water;On this account, when night with dew-fraught shades Hath whelmed the earth, anon the earth deep down Grows chill, contracts; and thuswise squeezes out Into the spring what seeds she holds of fire (As one might squeeze with fist), which render hot The touch and steam of the fluid.Next, when sun, Up-risen, with his rays has split the soil And rarefied the earth with waxing heat, Again into their ancient abodes return The seeds of fire, and all the Hot of water Into the earth retires; and this is why The fountain in the daylight gets so cold.

Besides, the water's wet is beat upon By rays of sun, and, with the dawn, becomes Rarer in texture under his pulsing blaze;And, therefore, whatso seeds it holds of fire It renders up, even as it renders oft The frost that it contains within itself And thaws its ice and looseneth the knots.

There is, moreover, a fountain cold in kind That makes a bit of tow (above it held)Take fire forthwith and shoot a flame; so, too, A pitch-pine torch will kindle and flare round Along its waves, wherever 'tis impelled Afloat before the breeze.No marvel, this:

Because full many seeds of heat there be Within the water; and, from earth itself Out of the deeps must particles of fire Athrough the entire fountain surge aloft, And speed in exhalations into air Forth and abroad (yet not in numbers enow As to make hot the fountain).And, moreo'er, Some force constrains them, scattered through the water, Forthwith to burst abroad, and to combine In flame above.Even as a fountain far There is at Aradus amid the sea, Which bubbles out sweet water and disparts From round itself the salt waves; and, behold, In many another region the broad main Yields to the thirsty mariners timely help, Belching sweet waters forth amid salt waves.

Just so, then, can those seeds of fire burst forth Athrough that other fount, and bubble out Abroad against the bit of tow; and when They there collect or cleave unto the torch, Forthwith they readily flash aflame, because The tow and torches, also, in themselves Have many seeds of latent fire.Indeed, And seest thou not, when near the nightly lamps Thou bringest a flaxen wick, extinguished A moment since, it catches fire before 'Thas touched the flame, and in same wise a torch?

And many another object flashes aflame When at a distance, touched by heat alone, Before 'tis steeped in veritable fire.

This, then, we must suppose to come to pass In that spring also.

Now to other things!

And I'll begin to treat by what decree Of nature it came to pass that iron can be By that stone drawn which Greeks the magnet call After the country's name (its origin Being in country of Magnesian folk).

This stone men marvel at; and sure it oft Maketh a chain of rings, depending, lo, From off itself! Nay, thou mayest see at times Five or yet more in order dangling down And swaying in the delicate winds, whilst one Depends from other, cleaving to under-side, And ilk one feels the stone's own power and bonds-So over-masteringly its power flows down.

In things of this sort, much must be made sure Ere thou account of the thing itself canst give, And the approaches roundabout must be;Wherefore the more do I exact of thee A mind and ears attent.

First, from all things We see soever, evermore must flow, Must be discharged and strewn about, about, Bodies that strike the eyes, awaking sight.