The Raven s Tale. ( Corvus Crater Hydrae .) Part 1.   {Apologies to Ovid and Crowley.}           “ Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore. “       Once upon a time a young raven was circling around the southern heavens, looking rather glum. A voice addressed him; “Why so glum Brother Raven?”   The raven turned, and there amongst the stars was a man with a bow and arrow and the body of a horse.   “ Well, it was not always like this you know.” The raven said. “ Things used to be quiet good but then there were some complications with my boss’s girlfriend and that business with that big cup there and this troublesome sea serpent creature / monster thing, to both of whom, I now seem firmly attached.”   He flapped and fluttered his wings but he could not seem to separate himself from them nor move through the stars.   “Well, we all have our issues. Tell me about yours?” asked the centaur.   “Issues? I don’t have issues,” said the Raven , “I am just there and things happen to me … it does not have ANYTHING to do with me! I am purely a victim of circumstances”   The Centaur smiled and said “Young raven ! Is there any such thing? I doubt it, for we all play a part in the events that unfold around us. Well then, tell me what happened and we will see if we can work out a solution to your dilemma together.”   “Very well, “ Raven answered him. “ It all started back when I was with my master , Apollo. He bid me observe the affairs of gods and men and report back to him, that being my duty, ordained by Zeus, how could I refuse it?. The same as I could not refuse my other duty, to disperse amongst men the prophesies of my master Apollo so men may know the will of Zeus. All went well until that business with the woman.   “One day when pulling Helios across the sky in his chariot he saw the nymph Corona of Larissa, the fairest maid of all Aemonia. Apollo courted Corona and things seem good. Apollo was happy with her and she was known to have a ‘grateful charm’, to be a joy to him and faithful in love … while none defamed her chastity.   “But, unfortunately for me, one day I observed from high perch, that very same Corona laying in a field with a lad … who was certainly NOT Apollo. Being faithful to my master’s charge, I immediately leapt from my perch, spread out my white wings and beat them as fast as I could to propel myself home to my master’s abode and report to him this new development. Just as I am bound to spread forth amongst the people my master Apollo’s prophecies and reveal the will of Zeus.   “But a crow followed me. A noisy busy-body prattling crow, curious of my alarm and quick flight and what it was I observed. After me the prattling Crow followed with flapping wings, eager to learn what caused this Raven's haste “Tell not what you have seen” her black beak chattered and the crow started prattling out her story;   ‘ A long time ago, the god Vulcan fathered a son, Erichthonius, under strange circumstances. He tried to rape Minerva but didn't succeed. Instead, his seed fell down to earth; from where it landed, up sprang Erichthonius. Minerva seemed to want to cover the whole thing up, so she hid the child in a basket. She then made this basket the responsibility of the three daughters of Cecrops, an ancient king of Athens. Then she made them swear never to look inside it.   ‘Two of the daughters, Pandrosos and Herse, obeyed the goddess, but the third, Aglauros, peeked inside – and a saw a baby with a serpent curled up beside him. Then she went to Minerva and tattled on Aglauros. Minerva was so displeased that she forbade me to be her special bird any longer; from that point on, her friends have been owls and I have been ignored. Beware Raven that the same fate awaits you.’   ‘ Out of my way Crow’, I told her,’ I must do my duty and report to my master.’ But she persisted.   ‘Well’, said the Crow,’ you might think that I never was Minerva's special bird in the first place. If you do, you're wrong. To prove it, I will tell you a second story. A long time ago, I used to be a beautiful princess, with many suitors. But then, one day, while I was walking along the beach, the god of the Ocean saw me and became amorous. But I wanted nothing to do with him. ‘He pursued me, so I prayed to the gods for help. The only one who listened was Minerva, herself a virgin, who transformed me into a crow. This how I became Minerva's bird. But now I have been disowned and the owl has taken my place , who also used to be Princess, although nowhere near as fair as I and whose morals were poorly lacking – the little tart!.’   “ Now replied I to the Crow, that talked so much, `A mischief fall upon your prating head for this detention of my flight. Your words and warnings I despise.' With which retort I winged upon my journey, swiftly thence in haste, despite the warning, to inform my patron, Apollo how I saw the fair Coronus with a lad of Thessaly.   “As I began my story he was playing his harp and singing, then he stared at me, he dropped his plectrum and his laurel wreath, and his bright countenance went white with rage. He seized his trusted arms, and having bent his bow, pierced with a deadly shaft that bosom which so often he had pressed against his own. “But Corona was with child. She moaned in pain,--and as she drew the keen shaft from the wound, her snow-white limbs were bathed in purple blood: and thus she wailed, `Ah, Apollo! Punishment is justly mine! But wherefore didst thou not await the hour of birth? For by my death an innocent is slain.' This said, her soul expired with her life-blood, and death congealed her drooping form.   “ Sadly the love-lore God did repent his jealous deed; regret too late his ready credence to this Raven's tale. Mourning his thoughtless deed and blaming myself, he vents his rage upon this very bird; he hates his bow, the string, his own right hand, the fateful arrow, anything but himself and his jealous rage. As a last resort, and thus to overcome her destiny, he strove to cherish her beloved form; for vain were all his medicinal arts. But when he saw upraised the funeral pyre, where wreathed in flames her body should be burnt, the sorrow of his heart welled forth in sighs; but tearless orbed, for no celestial face may tide of woe bedew. So grieves the poor dam, when, swinging from his right the flashing axe, the butcher with a sounding blow divides the hollow temples of her sucking calf. Yet, after Apollo poured the fragrant myrrh, sweet perfumes on her breast, that now once more against his own he pressed, and after all the prematurely hastened rites were done, he would not suffer the offspring of his loins to mingle with her ashes, but he plucked from out the flames, forth from the mother's thighs his child, unborn, and carried to the cave of double-natured Chiron - a relative of thine?”   Three Magpies flew in from some higher heaven and alighted along a string of nearby stars.   “Your story attracts others that long to hear,” The Centaur observed. “It is the Chorus,” Raven told him, “ every time this story is told they insist, very annoyingly , in my opinion, to sing in sweet melody and rhyme their version of the events told.” “Complaining Raven,” said the first Magpie, “ This is a Holy event which we must always commemorate. The God's most holy presence asks the hymn, the solemn hymn, the hymn of agony, lest, in the air of glory that surrounds the child of Semele, we lose the earth and corporal presence of the Zeus-begot.’ Magpie 2: Yea, sisters, raise your voices. Magpie 3: Ay, we sing: All Magpies: Hail, child of Semele! To her as unto thee Be reverence, be deity, be immortality! Shame! treachery of the spouse Of the Olympian house, Hera! thy grim device against the sweet carouse! Lo! ~ in red roar and flame Did Zeus descend! What claim To feel the immortal fire had then the Theban dame! Caught in that fiery wave, Her love and life she gave With one last kissing cry the unborn child to save. And thou, O Zeus, the sire Of Bromius--hunter dire!-- Didst snatch the unborn babe from that Olympian fire: Magpie 1; “In thine own thigh most holy That offspring melancholy Didst hide, didst feed, on light, ambrosia, and moly. Magpie 2: Ay! and with serpent hair And limbs divinely fair Didst thou, Dionysus, leap forth to the nectar air! Magpie 2 ; “Ay! thus the dreams of fate We dare commemorate, Twining in lovesome curls the spoil of mate and mate. All Magpies: “O Dionysus, hear! Be close, be quick, be near, Whispering enchanted words in every curving ear! O Dionysus, start As the Apollonian dart! Bury thy horned head iiiiinn Ev – eeeeery bleed - innnnng heeeeaaaart!”   “They always go for a big finish” Raven told the Centaur. “Now, if I may continue?”