Iphis

This is from a long poetic work, the Metamorphoses, by Ovid a Roman poet working under the reign of Augustus. Many stories in this poem borrow from traditional tales, but some may be the unique composition of the author. We have no other versions of this story to judge whether it is from Ovid’s imagination or traditional to some community.

If this reading interests you, I recommend this reflective essay by a student of the classics on reading this text and the current experience of being transgender.

From the Brookes More translation in the public domain.

[666] The tale of this unholy passion would perhaps, have filled Crete’s hundred cities then, if Crete had not a wonder of its own to talk of, in the change of Iphis. Once, there lived at Phaestus, not far from the town of Gnossus, a man Ligdus, not well known; in fact obscure, of humble parentage, whose income was no greater than his birth; but he was held trustworthy and his life had been quite blameless. When the time drew near his wife should give birth to a child, he warned her and instructed her, with words we quote:—

“There are two things which I would ask of Heaven: that you may be delivered with small pain, and that your child may surely be a boy. Girls are such trouble, fair strength is denied to them.—Therefore (may Heaven refuse the thought) if chance should cause your child to be a girl, (gods pardon me for having said the word!) we must agree to have her put to death.”

And all the time he spoke such dreaded words, their faces were completely bathed in tears; not only hers but also his while he forced on her that unnatural command. Ah, Telethusa ceaselessly implored her husband to give way to fortune’s cast; but Ligdus held his resolution fixed.

[684] And now the expected time of birth was near, when in the middle of the night she seemed to see the goddess Isis, standing by her bed, in company of serious spirit forms; Isis had crescent horns upon her forehead, and a bright garland made of golden grain encircled her fair brow. It was a crown of regal beauty: and beside her stood the dog Anubis, and Bubastis, there the sacred, dappled Apis, and the God of silence with pressed finger on his lips; the sacred rattles were there, and Osiris, known the constant object of his worshippers’ desire, and there the Egyptian serpent whose quick sting gives long-enduring sleep. She seemed to see them all, and even to hear the goddess say to her, “O Telethusa, one of my remembered worshippers, forget your grief; your husband’s orders need not be obeyed; and when Lucina has delivered you, save and bring up your child, if either boy or girl. I am the goddess who brings help to all who call upon me; and you shall never complain of me—that you adored a thankless deity.” So she advised by vision the sad mother, and left her. The Cretan woman joyfully arose from her sad bed, and supplicating, raised ecstatic hands up towards the listening stars, and prayed to them her vision might come true.

[704] Soon, when her pains gave birth, the mother knew her infant was a girl (the father had no knowledge of it, as he was not there). Intending to deceive, the mother said, “Feed the dear boy.” All things had favored her deceit—no one except the trusted nurse, knew of it. And the father paid his vows, and named the child after its grandfather, whose name was honored Iphis. Hearing it so called, the mother could not but rejoice, because her child was given a name of common gender, and she could use it with no more deceit. She took good care to dress it as a boy, and either as a boy or girl, its face must always be accounted lovable.

[714] And so she grew,—ten years and three had gone, and then your father found a bride for you O Iphis—promised you should take to wife the golden-haired Ianthe, praised by all the women of Phaestus for the dower of her unequalled beauty, and well known, the daughter of a Cretan named Telestes. Of equal age and equal loveliness, they had received from the same teachers, all instruction in their childish rudiments. So unsuspected love had filled their hearts with equal longing—but how different! Ianthe waits in confidence and hope the ceremonial as agreed upon, and is quite certain she will wed a man. But Iphis is in love without one hope of passion’s ecstasy, the thought of which only increased her flame; and she a girl is burnt with passion for another girl!

[725] She hardly can hold back her tears, and says: “O what will be the awful dreaded end, with such a monstrous love compelling me? If the Gods should wish to save me, certainly they should have saved me; but, if their desire was for my ruin, still they should have given some natural suffering of humanity. The passion for a cow does not inflame a cow, no mare has ever sought another mare. The ram inflames the ewe, and every doe follows a chosen stag; so also birds are mated, and in all the animal world no female ever feels love passion for another female—why is it in me? Monstrosities are natural to Crete, the daughter of the Sun there loved a bull—it was a female’s mad love for the male—but my desire is far more mad than hers, in strict regard of truth, for she had hope of love’s fulfillment. She secured the bull by changing herself to a heifer’s form; and in that subtlety it was the male deceived at last. Though all the subtleties of all the world should be collected here;—if Daedalus himself should fly back here upon his waxen wings, what could he do? What skillful art of his could change my sex, a girl into a boy—or could he change Ianthe?

[745] “What a useless thought! Be bold take courage Iphis, and be strong of soul. This hopeless passion stultifies your heart; so shake it off, and hold your memory down to the clear fact of your birth: unless your will provides deception for yourself: do only what is lawful, and confine strictly, your love within a woman’s right. Hope of fulfillment can beget true love, and hope keeps it alive. You are deprived of this hope by the nature of your birth. No guardian keeps you from her dear embrace, no watchful jealous husband, and she has no cruel father: she does not deny herself to you. With all that liberty, you can not have her for your happy wife, though Gods and men should labor for your wish. None of my prayers has ever been denied; the willing Deities have granted me whatever should be, and my father helps me to accomplish everything I plan: she and her father also, always help. But Nature is more powerful than all, and only Nature works for my distress. The wedding-day already is at hand; the longed-for time is come; Ianthe soon will be mine only—and yet, not my own: with water all around me I shall thirst! O why must Juno, goddess of sweet brides, and why should Hymen also, favor us when man with woman cannot join in wedlock, but both are brides?”

[764] And so she closed her lips. The other maiden flamed with equal love, and often prayed for Hymen to appear. But Telethusa, fearing that event, the marriage which Ianthe keenly sought, procrastinated, causing first delay by some pretended illness; and then gave pretence of omens and of visions seen, sufficient for delay, until she had exhausted every avenue of excuse, and only one more day remained before the fateful time, it was so near at hand. Despairing then of finding other cause which might prevent the fated wedding-day, the mother took the circled fillets from her own head, and her daughter’s head, and prayed, as she embraced the altar—her long hair spread out upon the flowing breeze—and said: “O Isis, goddess of Paraetonium, the Mareotic fields, Pharos, and Nile of seven horns divided—oh give help! Goddess of nations! heal us of our fears! I saw you, goddess, and your symbols once, and I adored them all, the clashing sounds of sistra and the torches of your train, and I took careful note of your commands, for which my daughter lives to see the sun, and also I have so escaped from harm;—all this is of your counsel and your gift; oh, pity both of us — and give us aid!”

[781] Tears emphasized her prayer; the goddess seemed to move–in truth it was the altar moved; the firm doors of the temple even shook—and her horns, crescent, flashed with gleams of light, and her loud sistrum rattled noisily. Although not quite free of all fear, yet pleased by that good omen, gladly the mother left the temple with her daughter Iphis, who beside her walked, but with a lengthened stride. Her face seemed of a darker hue, her strength seemed greater, and her features were more stern. Her hair once long, was unadorned and short. There is more vigor in her than she showed in her girl ways. For in the name of truth, Iphis, who was a girl, is now a man! Make offerings at the temple and rejoice without a fear!—They offer at the shrines, and add a votive tablet, on which this inscription is engraved: these gifts are paid by Iphis as a man which as a maid he vowed to give. The morrow’s dawn revealed the wide world; on the day agreed, Venus, Juno and Hymen, all have met our happy lovers at the marriage fires; and Iphis, a new man, gained his Ianthe.