Pygmalion: A Comparison Between the Old and the New

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            <title>Pygmalion: A Comparison Between the New and the Old</title>
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            <p>Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso). Ovid -The Metamorphoses (Translated by A. S. Kline).
               2008. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/OvidTheMetamorphoses.</p>
            <p>Ovid, 43 B. C.-17 or 18 A. D., and Thomas Orger. Ovid’s Metamorphoses. London,
               Printed for John Miller, 1814. Internet Archive,
               http://archive.org/details/ovidsmetamorphosovid. </p>
         </publicationStmt>
         <sourceDesc>
            <p>A. S. Kline Version- This version was published in 2008 and looks to be a text that
               was never printed in a physical copy, only edited to appear as a book online with
               standard text and justified text; therefore the page breaks are automated and do not
               seem intentional. This text also had words in blue bold highlight, suggesting that
               they were hyperlinks, however, we were unable to access the links, so here they are
               only highlighted</p>
            <p>Thomas Orger Version- This version was published 1814 and the bottom quarter of the
            page presents the latin text that Orger used to translate the text to English. This 
            text was not transcribed into this edition as it is not relevent to this anaylsis and 
            it would be too cumbersome to include.</p>
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            <head>Bk X:243-297 Orpheus sings: Pygmalion and the statue</head>
            <p>'<hi>Pygmalion</hi> had seen them, spending their lives in wickedness, and, offended
               by the failings that nature gave the female heart, he lived as a bachelor, without a
               wife or partner for his bed. But, with wonderful skill, he carved a figure,
               brilliantly, out of snow-white ivory, no<fw>496</fw><pb/> mortal woman, and fell in
               love with own creation. The features are thoes of a real girl, who, you might think,
               lived, and wished to move, if modesty did not forbid it. Indeded, art hides his art.
               He marvels: passion, for this bodily image, consumes his heart. Often, he runs his
               hands over the work, tempted as to whether it is flesh or ivory, not admitting it to
               be ivory. <choice>
                  <orig>he</orig>
                  <corr>He</corr>
               </choice> kisses it, and thinks his kisses are returned; and speaks to it; and holds
               it, and imagines that his fingers press into the limbs, and is afraid lest bruises
               appear from the pressure. Now he addresses it with compliments, now brings it gifts
               that please girls, shells and polished pebbles, little birds, and many-colored
               flowers, lilies and tinted beads, and the <hi>Heliades</hi>'s amber tears, that drip
               from the trees. He dresses the body, also, in clothing; places rings on the fingers;
               places a long necklace round its neck; pearls hang from the ears, and cinctures round
               the breasts. All are fitting: but it appears no less lovely, naked. He arranges the
               statue on a bed on which cloths <fw>497</fw><pb/>dyed with <hi>Tyrian</hi> murex are
               spread, and calls it his bedfellow, and rests its neck against soft down, as if it
               could feel. </p>

            <p>The day of <hi>Venus</hi>'s festival came, celebrated throughout <hi>Cyprus</hi>, and
               heifers, their curved horns gildedd, fell, to the blow on their snowy neck. The
               incense was smoking, when Pygmalion, having made his offering, stood by the altar,
               and said, shyly: "If you can grant all things, you gods, I wish as a bride to
               have..." and not daring to say "the girl of ivory" he said "one like my ivory girl."
               Golden Venus, for she herself was present at the festival, knew what the prayer
               meant, and as a sign of the gods' fondness for him, the flamed flared three times,
               and shook its crown in the air. When he returned, he sought out the image of his
               girl, and leaning over the couch, kissed her. She felt warm: he pressed his lips to
               her again, and also touched her breast with his hand. The ivory yeilded to his touch,
               and lost its hardness, altering under his fingers, as the bees' wax of
                  <hi>Hymettus</hi> softens in the sun, and is moulded,<fw>498</fw> under the thumb,
               into many forms, made usable by use. The lover is stupified, and<pb/> joyful, but
               uncertain, and afraid he is wrong, reaffirms the <choice>
                  <orig>fulfilment</orig>
                  <reg>fulfillment</reg>
               </choice> of his wished, with his hand, again, and again.</p>

            <p>It was flesh! The pulse throbbed under his thumb. Then the hero, of <hi>Paphos</hi>,
               was indeed overfull of words with which to thank Venus, and still pressed his mouth
               against a mouth that was not merely a likeness. The girl felt the kisses he gave,
               blushed, and, raising her bashful eyes to the light, saw both her lover and the shy.
               The goddess attended the marriage that she had brought about, and when the moon's
               horns had nine times met at the full, the woman bore a son, <hi>Paphos</hi>, from
               whom the island takes its name.'</p>
         </div>
         <div>
            <head>Ovid's Metamorphoses by Thomas Orger from 1814</head>
            <lg>
               <l>These, lost to virtue, when Pygmalion view'd,</l>
               <l>Deeming the sex alike in vice imbued,</l>
               <l>Shock'd at their crimes, from Cupid's toils he fled,</l>
               <l>Nor sought a married partner of his bed.</l>
               <fw>310</fw>
               <l>Meantime, of Ivory form'd with genius plann'd,</l>
               <l>A female statue started from his hand:</l>
               <l>As more than mortal grace her shape unfolds, </l>
               <l>Life seems concenter'd there: her lovely frame</l>
               <fw>315</fw>
               <l>Appears from motion check'd alone by shame;</l>
               <l>So wonderful is art when veil'd by art!</l>
               <l>He looks, he sighs, love fires his amorous heart.</l>
               <l>He handles oft her limbs with curious care,</l>
               <l>And doubts if life, or ivory, be there:</l>
               <fw>320</fw>
               <l>He talks; he clasps the image to his breast;</l>
               <l>Caressing her, he thinks himself caress'd. </l>
               <pb/>
               <fw>BOOK X.</fw>
               <fw>381</fw>
               <l>She seems to shrink; he deems the force too much,</l>
               <l>And fears, a bruise may follow from the touch:</l>
               <l>With glossy compliment his tongue he decks;</l>
               <fw>325</fw>
               <l>He proffers presents grateful to the sex;</l>
               <l>Shells, painted balls, rare flowers from various stems,</l>
               <l>White lilies, amber, little birds, and gems.</l>
               <l>Loose o'er her faultless form rich garments float; </l>
               <l>Rings grace her finger; diamond chains her throat</l>
               <fw>330</fw>
               <l>Brilliant her ears; an amethyst her breast;</l>
               <l>But naked loveliness becomes her best.</l>
               <l>Her polish'd limbs the enamor'd artist laid</l>
               <l>(As tho' sensation warm'd the ivory maid)</l>
               <l>High on a downy couch of Tyrian red,</l>
               <fw>335</fw>
               <l>And call'd the statue, partner of his bed.</l>
            </lg>
            <lg>
               <l> On drew the day when Cyprus' sons proclaim</l>
               <l>Thy festive honours, laughter-loving dame !</l>
               <l>Heifers, for thee, with gilded antlers, slain,</l>
               <l>Struck by the axe, fall bleeding at the fane.</l>
               <fw>340</fw>
               <l>High fumes the incense; with imploring sighs, </l>
               <l>Pygmalion kneels, and thus, half-doubting, cries:</l>
               <l>'Ye heavenly powers, omnipotent to aid, </l>
               <l>Grant me,-my ivory love,' he would have said, </l>
               <l>But Check'd the word; and cried, 'Ye powers above,</l>
               <fw>345</fw>
               <l>Grant me the likeness of my ivory love.'</l>
            </lg>
            <lg>
               <l> Venus, who read his wish, propitious bent</l>
               <l>High o'er her fane, and, omen of assent,</l>
               <pb/>
               <fw>382</fw>
               <fw>OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.</fw>
               <l>Red renovated fired, thrice upward thrown, </l>
               <l>Blaze in the air, and quiver in a cone.</l>
               <fw>350</fw>
               <l>Black hied the lover, with elated air,</l>
               <l>Fell on the purple bed, and kiss'd the fair.</l>
               <l>She seems to glow with life: her bosom stirs; </l>
               <l>Again he bends, he joins his lips to her's:</l>
               <l>Her soften'd limbs the lover's touch confess,</l>
               <fw>355</fw>
               <l>And yeild elastic where his fingers press.</l>
               <l>So the white produce of Hymettus' bees, </l>
               <l>Warm'd by sun, and soften'd by degrees,</l>
               <l>Stubborn no more, flows, unconfin'd and loose, </l>
               <l>In various moulds, and gathers use from use.</l>
               <fw>360</fw>
               <l> Dreading deceit, yet bolder than before, </l>
               <l> With trembling jou, he prest her lips once more.</l>
               <l>Her fluttering pulses beat beneath his hand, </l>
               <l>She moves! life graces what Pygmalion plann'd.</l>
               <l>In phrase most eloquent, with rapture fraught,</l>
               <fw>365</fw>
               <l>He thank'd the goddess; then, delighted, sought</l>
               <l>Again the breathing maid, o'erjoy'd to sip</l>
               <l>Congenial transport from no ivory lip.</l>
               <l>She, timid, feels the kiss, then opes her eyes,</l>
               <l>And, blushing, views her lover and the skies.</l>
               <fw>370</fw>
            </lg>
            <lg>
               <l>Attendant Venus grac'd the match she made,</l>
               <l>And when nine lunar orbs the pair survey'd,</l>
               <l>Forth, issue of the wondrous marriage, came</l>
               <l>Paphos, from whom the island takes its name.</l>
            </lg>
         </div>
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Pygmalion: A Comparison Between the New and the Old

Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso). Ovid -The Metamorphoses (Translated by A. S. Kline). 2008. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/OvidTheMetamorphoses.

Ovid, 43 B. C.-17 or 18 A. D., and Thomas Orger. Ovid’s Metamorphoses. London, Printed for John Miller, 1814. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/ovidsmetamorphosovid.

A. S. Kline Version- This version was published in 2008 and looks to be a text that was never printed in a physical copy, only edited to appear as a book online with standard text and justified text; therefore the page breaks are automated and do not seem intentional. This text also had words in blue bold highlight, suggesting that they were hyperlinks, however, we were unable to access the links, so here they are only highlighted

Thomas Orger Version- This version was published 1814 and the bottom quarter of the page presents the latin text that Orger used to translate the text to English. This text was not transcribed into this edition as it is not relevent to this anaylsis and it would be too cumbersome to include.
Bk X:243-297 Orpheus sings: Pygmalion and the statue

'Pygmalion had seen them, spending their lives in wickedness, and, offended by the failings that nature gave the female heart, he lived as a bachelor, without a wife or partner for his bed. But, with wonderful skill, he carved a figure, brilliantly, out of snow-white ivory, no496 mortal woman, and fell in love with own creation. The features are thoes of a real girl, who, you might think, lived, and wished to move, if modesty did not forbid it. Indeded, art hides his art. He marvels: passion, for this bodily image, consumes his heart. Often, he runs his hands over the work, tempted as to whether it is flesh or ivory, not admitting it to be ivory. he He kisses it, and thinks his kisses are returned; and speaks to it; and holds it, and imagines that his fingers press into the limbs, and is afraid lest bruises appear from the pressure. Now he addresses it with compliments, now brings it gifts that please girls, shells and polished pebbles, little birds, and many-colored flowers, lilies and tinted beads, and the Heliades's amber tears, that drip from the trees. He dresses the body, also, in clothing; places rings on the fingers; places a long necklace round its neck; pearls hang from the ears, and cinctures round the breasts. All are fitting: but it appears no less lovely, naked. He arranges the statue on a bed on which cloths 497 dyed with Tyrian murex are spread, and calls it his bedfellow, and rests its neck against soft down, as if it could feel.

The day of Venus's festival came, celebrated throughout Cyprus, and heifers, their curved horns gildedd, fell, to the blow on their snowy neck. The incense was smoking, when Pygmalion, having made his offering, stood by the altar, and said, shyly: "If you can grant all things, you gods, I wish as a bride to have..." and not daring to say "the girl of ivory" he said "one like my ivory girl." Golden Venus, for she herself was present at the festival, knew what the prayer meant, and as a sign of the gods' fondness for him, the flamed flared three times, and shook its crown in the air. When he returned, he sought out the image of his girl, and leaning over the couch, kissed her. She felt warm: he pressed his lips to her again, and also touched her breast with his hand. The ivory yeilded to his touch, and lost its hardness, altering under his fingers, as the bees' wax of Hymettus softens in the sun, and is moulded,498 under the thumb, into many forms, made usable by use. The lover is stupified, and joyful, but uncertain, and afraid he is wrong, reaffirms the fulfilment fulfillment of his wished, with his hand, again, and again.

It was flesh! The pulse throbbed under his thumb. Then the hero, of Paphos, was indeed overfull of words with which to thank Venus, and still pressed his mouth against a mouth that was not merely a likeness. The girl felt the kisses he gave, blushed, and, raising her bashful eyes to the light, saw both her lover and the shy. The goddess attended the marriage that she had brought about, and when the moon's horns had nine times met at the full, the woman bore a son, Paphos, from whom the island takes its name.'

Ovid's Metamorphoses by Thomas Orger from 1814 These, lost to virtue, when Pygmalion view'd, Deeming the sex alike in vice imbued, Shock'd at their crimes, from Cupid's toils he fled, Nor sought a married partner of his bed. 310 Meantime, of Ivory form'd with genius plann'd, 5 A female statue started from his hand: As more than mortal grace her shape unfolds, Life seems concenter'd there: her lovely frame 315 Appears from motion check'd alone by shame; So wonderful is art when veil'd by art! 10 He looks, he sighs, love fires his amorous heart. He handles oft her limbs with curious care, And doubts if life, or ivory, be there: 320 He talks; he clasps the image to his breast; Caressing her, he thinks himself caress'd.  15 BOOK X. 381 She seems to shrink; he deems the force too much, And fears, a bruise may follow from the touch: With glossy compliment his tongue he decks; 325 He proffers presents grateful to the sex; Shells, painted balls, rare flowers from various stems, 20 White lilies, amber, little birds, and gems. Loose o'er her faultless form rich garments float; Rings grace her finger; diamond chains her throat 330 Brilliant her ears; an amethyst her breast; But naked loveliness becomes her best. 25 Her polish'd limbs the enamor'd artist laid (As tho' sensation warm'd the ivory maid) High on a downy couch of Tyrian red, 335 And call'd the statue, partner of his bed. On drew the day when Cyprus' sons proclaim Thy festive honours, laughter-loving dame ! Heifers, for thee, with gilded antlers, slain, Struck by the axe, fall bleeding at the fane. 340 High fumes the incense; with imploring sighs,  5 Pygmalion kneels, and thus, half-doubting, cries: 'Ye heavenly powers, omnipotent to aid, Grant me,-my ivory love,' he would have said, But Check'd the word; and cried, 'Ye powers above, 345 Grant me the likeness of my ivory love.' 10 Venus, who read his wish, propitious bent High o'er her fane, and, omen of assent, 382 OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. Red renovated fired, thrice upward thrown, Blaze in the air, and quiver in a cone. 350 Black hied the lover, with elated air, 5 Fell on the purple bed, and kiss'd the fair. She seems to glow with life: her bosom stirs; Again he bends, he joins his lips to her's: Her soften'd limbs the lover's touch confess, 355 And yeild elastic where his fingers press. 10 So the white produce of Hymettus' bees, Warm'd by sun, and soften'd by degrees, Stubborn no more, flows, unconfin'd and loose, In various moulds, and gathers use from use. 360 Dreading deceit, yet bolder than before,  15 With trembling jou, he prest her lips once more. Her fluttering pulses beat beneath his hand, She moves! life graces what Pygmalion plann'd. In phrase most eloquent, with rapture fraught, 365 He thank'd the goddess; then, delighted, sought 20 Again the breathing maid, o'erjoy'd to sip Congenial transport from no ivory lip. She, timid, feels the kiss, then opes her eyes, And, blushing, views her lover and the skies. 370 Attendant Venus grac'd the match she made, And when nine lunar orbs the pair survey'd, Forth, issue of the wondrous marriage, came Paphos, from whom the island takes its name.

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Pygmalion: A Comparison Between the New and the Old

Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso). Ovid -The Metamorphoses (Translated by A. S. Kline). 2008. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/OvidTheMetamorphoses.

Ovid, 43 B. C.-17 or 18 A. D., and Thomas Orger. Ovid’s Metamorphoses. London, Printed for John Miller, 1814. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/ovidsmetamorphosovid.

A. S. Kline Version- This version was published in 2008 and looks to be a text that was never printed in a physical copy, only edited to appear as a book online with standard text and justified text; therefore the page breaks are automated and do not seem intentional. This text also had words in blue bold highlight, suggesting that they were hyperlinks, however, we were unable to access the links, so here they are only highlighted

Thomas Orger Version- This version was published 1814 and the bottom quarter of the page presents the latin text that Orger used to translate the text to English. This text was not transcribed into this edition as it is not relevent to this anaylsis and it would be too cumbersome to include.
Bk X:243-297 Orpheus sings: Pygmalion and the statue

'Pygmalion had seen them, spending their lives in wickedness, and, offended by the failings that nature gave the female heart, he lived as a bachelor, without a wife or partner for his bed. But, with wonderful skill, he carved a figure, brilliantly, out of snow-white ivory, no496 mortal woman, and fell in love with own creation. The features are thoes of a real girl, who, you might think, lived, and wished to move, if modesty did not forbid it. Indeded, art hides his art. He marvels: passion, for this bodily image, consumes his heart. Often, he runs his hands over the work, tempted as to whether it is flesh or ivory, not admitting it to be ivory. he He kisses it, and thinks his kisses are returned; and speaks to it; and holds it, and imagines that his fingers press into the limbs, and is afraid lest bruises appear from the pressure. Now he addresses it with compliments, now brings it gifts that please girls, shells and polished pebbles, little birds, and many-colored flowers, lilies and tinted beads, and the Heliades's amber tears, that drip from the trees. He dresses the body, also, in clothing; places rings on the fingers; places a long necklace round its neck; pearls hang from the ears, and cinctures round the breasts. All are fitting: but it appears no less lovely, naked. He arranges the statue on a bed on which cloths 497 dyed with Tyrian murex are spread, and calls it his bedfellow, and rests its neck against soft down, as if it could feel.

The day of Venus's festival came, celebrated throughout Cyprus, and heifers, their curved horns gildedd, fell, to the blow on their snowy neck. The incense was smoking, when Pygmalion, having made his offering, stood by the altar, and said, shyly: "If you can grant all things, you gods, I wish as a bride to have..." and not daring to say "the girl of ivory" he said "one like my ivory girl." Golden Venus, for she herself was present at the festival, knew what the prayer meant, and as a sign of the gods' fondness for him, the flamed flared three times, and shook its crown in the air. When he returned, he sought out the image of his girl, and leaning over the couch, kissed her. She felt warm: he pressed his lips to her again, and also touched her breast with his hand. The ivory yeilded to his touch, and lost its hardness, altering under his fingers, as the bees' wax of Hymettus softens in the sun, and is moulded,498 under the thumb, into many forms, made usable by use. The lover is stupified, and joyful, but uncertain, and afraid he is wrong, reaffirms the fulfilment fulfillment of his wished, with his hand, again, and again.

It was flesh! The pulse throbbed under his thumb. Then the hero, of Paphos, was indeed overfull of words with which to thank Venus, and still pressed his mouth against a mouth that was not merely a likeness. The girl felt the kisses he gave, blushed, and, raising her bashful eyes to the light, saw both her lover and the shy. The goddess attended the marriage that she had brought about, and when the moon's horns had nine times met at the full, the woman bore a son, Paphos, from whom the island takes its name.'

Ovid's Metamorphoses by Thomas Orger from 1814 These, lost to virtue, when Pygmalion view'd, Deeming the sex alike in vice imbued, Shock'd at their crimes, from Cupid's toils he fled, Nor sought a married partner of his bed. 310 Meantime, of Ivory form'd with genius plann'd, A female statue started from his hand: As more than mortal grace her shape unfolds, Life seems concenter'd there: her lovely frame 315 Appears from motion check'd alone by shame; So wonderful is art when veil'd by art! He looks, he sighs, love fires his amorous heart. He handles oft her limbs with curious care, And doubts if life, or ivory, be there: 320 He talks; he clasps the image to his breast; Caressing her, he thinks himself caress'd. BOOK X. 381 She seems to shrink; he deems the force too much, And fears, a bruise may follow from the touch: With glossy compliment his tongue he decks; 325 He proffers presents grateful to the sex; Shells, painted balls, rare flowers from various stems, White lilies, amber, little birds, and gems. Loose o'er her faultless form rich garments float; Rings grace her finger; diamond chains her throat 330 Brilliant her ears; an amethyst her breast; But naked loveliness becomes her best. Her polish'd limbs the enamor'd artist laid (As tho' sensation warm'd the ivory maid) High on a downy couch of Tyrian red, 335 And call'd the statue, partner of his bed. On drew the day when Cyprus' sons proclaim Thy festive honours, laughter-loving dame ! Heifers, for thee, with gilded antlers, slain, Struck by the axe, fall bleeding at the fane. 340 High fumes the incense; with imploring sighs, Pygmalion kneels, and thus, half-doubting, cries: 'Ye heavenly powers, omnipotent to aid, Grant me,-my ivory love,' he would have said, But Check'd the word; and cried, 'Ye powers above, 345 Grant me the likeness of my ivory love.' Venus, who read his wish, propitious bent High o'er her fane, and, omen of assent, 382 OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. Red renovated fired, thrice upward thrown, Blaze in the air, and quiver in a cone. 350 Black hied the lover, with elated air, Fell on the purple bed, and kiss'd the fair. She seems to glow with life: her bosom stirs; Again he bends, he joins his lips to her's: Her soften'd limbs the lover's touch confess, 355 And yeild elastic where his fingers press. So the white produce of Hymettus' bees, Warm'd by sun, and soften'd by degrees, Stubborn no more, flows, unconfin'd and loose, In various moulds, and gathers use from use. 360 Dreading deceit, yet bolder than before, With trembling jou, he prest her lips once more. Her fluttering pulses beat beneath his hand, She moves! life graces what Pygmalion plann'd. In phrase most eloquent, with rapture fraught, 365 He thank'd the goddess; then, delighted, sought Again the breathing maid, o'erjoy'd to sip Congenial transport from no ivory lip. She, timid, feels the kiss, then opes her eyes, And, blushing, views her lover and the skies. 370 Attendant Venus grac'd the match she made, And when nine lunar orbs the pair survey'd, Forth, issue of the wondrous marriage, came Paphos, from whom the island takes its name.