You wept and saw my eyes filled with tears: we both mixed our grief and tears together. As the body, so is the soul of tender women frail – delay but a little longer, and I shall die! You who now are a son of Priam, (let fear of the truth be absent). A second stratagem is this, and you have good ground for complaint. This is your work – your work, and that of your eyes, brighter than the fiery stars, and the cause of my burning love; this is the work of your golden tresses and that ivory throat, and the hands which I pray to have clasp my neck, and your comely features, modest yet not rustic, and feet which Thetis’ own methinks could scarcely equal. For now I seem to see you already swimming near and now to feel your wet arms about my neck, and now to throw about your dripping limbs the accustomed coverings, and now to warm our bosoms in the close embrace – and many things else a modest tongue should say naught of, whose memory delights, but whose telling brings a blush. She drops water into the flame of the lamp, either to clear the wick or to honour the omen. – she was the first origin of our people. The boar of Calydon will be my witness – fierce, yet so that a mother3 was found to be fiercer than he against her own son. When your anger shall have had full course, and is sated well, you will say to yourself: “How enduring is his love!” You will say to yourself, when you have seen me bearing all: “He who is a slave so well, let him be slave to me!” Now, unhappy, I am arraigned in my absence, and my cause, though excellent, is lost because no one appears for me. I pray the gods decree that, in the natural order of things. You flee what’s done, you seek what is to do: yet searching. and the slender stretch of land hears both their waters. Anchises, gave me hope he’d be a true husband to me. the conditions for peace, here too a place for arms. 7. and the same wind will carry off your sails and promises. 1. and I read ‘Oenone’, written there by your knife: And as the trunk grows, my name grows the same: grow, and rise straight, in honour of my name! Hypsipyle to Jason Why did so fair a night go by for naught, and you not seize upon the way? Come now, show your respect for your worthy father’s bed like this: he who fled, and himself disowned his deeds. These waters, that separate two lands, are scant. In the end my love is safe: here no war’s prepared. –. Whatever might give Jupiter pleasure he declared lawful. It’s a tale I’ve heard, one known to you: bereaved of her brothers. and had scarcely crossed the threshold when I said: shame-faced, his eyes fixed on the ground. you, who took my virginity, with sinister omens. [165] Perhaps you fear the time may fail you for return, or you may not endure the effort of the twofold toil. Fickle son of Aeson, more uncertain than a spring breeze. Ask your brother Hector, or Deiphobus or Polydamas. 9. I am scorched like wax torches dipped in sulphur. HYPSIPYLE TO JASON [1] You are said to have touched the shores of Thessaly with safe-returning keel, rich in the fleece of the golden ram. 3. There is naught for you to fear! but a cruel stepmother stood in the way of that undertaking. you’ll be known by these or similar lines: ‘Demophoon, the guest, gave loving Phyllis to death: he offered her reason to die, by her own hand. were concerned, by Saturn, in his primitive kingdom. You’ve a son, and I pray he’ll be one who, in his tender years. carried her torches of ill-luck before me. Nor, because I’d be seen as a stepmother coupling with her stepson. the ship was wrecked, sunk in the white waves. She betrayed her father – I snatched my Thoas from death. I am worthy, and wish, to become the wife of a powerful man: Don’t despise me, because I lay with you among the beech leaves: I’m more suited to a bed of royal purple. Thrice now has Hymenaeus come to the altars reared for me and fled, turning his back upon the threshold of my wedding-chamber; the lights so oft replenished by his lazy hand scarce rise again, scarce does he keep the torch alight by waving it. and I won this shore, that I granted to you, faithless man. As if that was not enough – why did I still wait there madly? or what glory have you gained? [33] Look, a second time I write, inditing words of entreaty! Whatever love commands cannot be wholly denied: He told me to pen words, in my first confusion: ‘Write! HEROIDES EPISTLES 6 - 10, TRANSLATED BY GRANT SHOWERMAN VI. Homer, Ovid and Heroides 1.15–16 - Volume 32 - Michael Kelly. There is no need of these; only shun false oaths, preserve the pledge you have given – and so yourself, and me! and loosed my chaste ties, with a deceiving hand. she the most courageous of the axe-wielding Amazon girls. I would rather the night, before that night, had been my last. How could reading a letter harm you? and by your body and mine that we joined as one. Indeed, I now, lest I might be thought no child of Minos. Why does the hand which is angered because the maiden pledged you is not yet yours so act that yours she cannot become? Your are much greater in this, believe me, than Diana’s self, if your written word has in it such present deity. I don’t scorn to be a suppliant, or beg humbly of you. It is concern for your life that fills my heart. so that one was betrayed by sleep, the other by guile. What was the object of my wiles but the one thing – to be united with you? That old morality was held to be dying, as far as future ages. Would that either this shame that compels us to secret loving would cease, or else the love that fears men’s speech. Why did you wish to compel me rather than persuade, if I could be won by listening to your suit? and again wretched, because when I am far removed from you, perhaps that other, he whom I least could wish, is with you! yet still I am late through confessing to my shame! and how were so many oaths in one lying mouth? Commentary references to this page (1): Charles Simmons, The Metamorphoses of Ovid, Books XIII and XIV, 13.507; Cross-references to this page (2): P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours, A Note on the Translations; Sulpicia, Carmina Omnia, 1 I founded Carthage, and laid out wide walls on every side. Recently a guest came to me from Thessalian shores. then I would still accept being burnt by a worthy fire: a vile adulterer is more harmful than the adultery. say, wretch, with what look would you have gazed at me, and your children? and twisting the bit in the mouth of a fleeing horse. Your sister Cassandra once chanted, (now I recall). I’d consider Hippolytus preferable to Jove! – for I suspect that, just as in the temple of Diana, your modest cheeks have reddened. possunt MSS. Shamefully that girl knew a man in adultery: chaste marriage gave me to you, and you to me. [65] In fine, so only you are forced to confess yourself caught, be, if you will, a maid caught by my treachery. Cydippe was snared by the apple, an apple snared Schoeneus’ child7; you now of a truth will be a second Hippomenes! Eager and spirited. You know not your own right; call me! a bride, one of Agamemnon’s three daughters. My sleepless eyes cling, always, to Aeneas: It’s true that he’s ungrateful, and silent about my gifts. For, just before dawn, when my lamp was already dying down, at the time when dreams are wont to be true, my fingers were relaxed by sleep, the threads fell from them, and I laid my head down upon the pillow to rest. Whither are you flying? and by Juno, whose kindness presides over the marriage bed. His life was protected by such a resolute army! Yet had it been better for you – if that boy really held you captive who you say has certain torches – to do as good men are wont, and not cheat your hope by dealing falsely; you should have won me by persuasion, not taken me whether or no! But I shed tears endlessly and tore my hair: I am unhappy finding myself, once more, a prisoner. In short, whoever of the Greek camp was killed. Overtaken here, you would have, methinks, no reason to complain, and while you held me close no storm would harm you. But that of mine that’s hidden in your pregnant womb, will live, and we should both be parents to it!’. sweetly it’s author had made a burden for my womb. nor to be spoken of as one of Priam’s many daughters: however Priam would not refuse to be father-in-law to a nymph. Come back to camp, deserter of your ally love; why must I lay my limbs in the mid space of my couch? A. S. Kline's open access poetry archive offering modern, high-quality translations of classic texts by famous poets, original poetry and critical work. And yet a for you, I remember, I the queen of Colchis could find time, when you besought that my art might bring you help. As the body, so is the soul of tender women frail – delay but a little longer, and I shall die! Canace to Macareus When have I not feared dangers worse than all realities? Their source is hidden, but my ills are clear to see; you two stir up fierce strife and banish peace, and the blows are mine! and Hymen, his brow was crowned with garlands. I regret that friendship was shamefully crowned. It was ingenious Love who bound you to me, with words – if I, indeed, have gained aught – that I myself drew up. in sorrow, and with loosened bloodstained hair. to King Agamemnon – however this is your fault: when Eurybates and Talthybius both called to take me. Index. I feared the Argolid – yet it’s a barbarian rival that harms me! Translated by A. S. Kline © Copyright 2001 All Rights Reserved. 17. [55] When the greatest part of the night has gone by for me in such delusions, sleep steals upon my wearied eyes. than they used to do, sharpened by loving feelings. And your companions need rest, and the sails of your ships. Ah, prophetess, you were only too right about my woes: Though her beauty is distinguished, she’s truly adulterous: captivated by a guest, abandoning her husband’s gods. She abandoned Colchis – I have my Lemnos. The Heroides XII XII Medea to Jason. and the torch better fitted to plunge beneath my funeral pyre? Thessalian cattle: and was wounded by my passion. 4. Then could Medea have ended well! –. have regard for anxious Briseis, mighty Achilles. Me wrongs imaginary fret, while the real I cannot know, and either error stirs equal gnawings in my heart. Yet I’m not displeased that I’ve not performed as a wife. When he has likewise called them once more to their accustomed rising, my hair is dressed at the bidding of my mother. The storm I wished for you, comes to pass without me: wind and wave are more just to me than your heart. –. Whether the sea contains the danger, or the land. Lost! I remember, a poplar, rooted by a flowing stream. I return to Diana’s temple, with its lofty approach of steps – ought any place to be safer than this? in the end whatever you do delights my eyes. I was anxious, and always afraid, lest your father. – a favouring wind was that! Where is that mighty swimmer who scorned the waters? poured out a lover’s slow kisses, through long moments. In words dictated by him I made our betrothal bond; Love was the lawyer that taught me knavery. And then others relate it all, when the madness abates: Perhaps by my fate I’m paying for the passions of my race. fighting’s harmful, while Venus, and nights with the lyre, delight. Ariadne to Theseus, 11. BY THIS IMAGE OF THE APPLE DOTH ACONTIUS DECLARE Why does rumour reach me, with news, before a letter: the sacred bulls of Mars going under the yoke, a crop of warriors growing from scattered seed. I’m not amazed by wealth, nor does your palace move me. And some said: ‘Let her go to learned Athens: there will be someone else to rule armed Thrace. Leander to Hero, 19. and Antinous, and others: all of them, with your blood? And now I feel an added fear, lest someone besides the nurse who shares my secret may see that we are interchanging words. I was flattered by a thousand suitors, plaintive to wed me. I surely should hear the sounding winds with joy, and should pray for the waters never to be calm. Shall the waves bury those gods you rescued from the fire? Start studying Ovid Heroides 1. I scarcely believe you live even with a god as witness. The land of Crete, Jupiter’s island, is my dowry: Cruel man, change your mind! bring you back, nor do you return moved by my love. Ah me, that I have confessed my feelings to you? [13] For the languor clings to me, for causes that do not appear; worn out, I find no help in the physician’s art. of whom old Nereus well might wish to be a grandfather to the wife. and wounded grieves at this love for a stranger, you will also cry. [93] This further – however much that writing of mine was a wrong to you, it is not I alone, you must know, of whom you have cause to complain. A hire like this is too great for the service given! 2. “Do you think my joy has already come forth from his home, my nurse? Anthony S. Kline A complete English translation and Mythological index 'I change but I cannot die.' Have I passed thy altars by, among those of so many deities of heaven?8 Has thy mother been scorned by mine?9 I have sinned in naught except that I have read a false oath, and been clever with unpropitious verse. and I don’t know which of their marriage beds I preferred. Set aside the gods, and the holy things you profane by touching! Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso, 43 BCE –17 CE), born at Sulmo, studied rhetoric and law at Rome.Later he did considerable public service there, and otherwise devoted himself to poetry and to society. to boast of: my innocence deserved friendship. no doubt, so that though I came with a dowry, you might reject me. What there is left, I do; and you, O sole delight of mine, I love with even greater love than could be returned to me! From that minor fault, came my future punishment. where the victor lives to plough with captive oxen: there are fields now, where Troy once was, and the earth. Hero to Leander nor your father: she’s a daughter-in-law come from the frozen pole. I saw three brothers fall, who were born and died together. Just as they are, in haste I leave my words unfinished, and the letter I have begun is hid in my trembling bosom. I wish you could see my appearance as I write: I write, and a Trojan sword lies in my lap: and tears fall from my cheeks onto the naked blade. Laodamia to Protesilaus An insistent crowd of suitors comes to ruin us. If Juno yielded me Jupiter, her husband and brother. And perhaps you tell her, that your wife’s an innocent, Let me be deceived, and let this charge vanish in thin air. have wished for it in prayer at incense-burning altars: often, seeing favourable winds from sea and sky, I said to myself: ‘If he’s well, he will come,’. to cause deception, with my doubtful web. I saw my husband, how dear to me, spilled on the cruel earth. I do not speak because I hope to move you with prayers: But since I may have wholly wasted my reputation for merit. Out! I beg you not to let your wife scold me too much. Away with your hands from the body pledged to me! [5] Why do your blushes rise before you read? and another pledge being given, you’ll again deceive. For why, though Phrixus and Phrixus’ sister both rode this way, did the maiden alone give name to these wide waters? It was brave, oh you, who are more and more forgetful of your own. let men who are adorned like women stay far from me: beauty loves the masculine, adorned in moderation. She was there and, present as she was, marked your words, and seemed, by the shaking of her locks, to have accepted them. That is the land of my fathers; nor, if you look with favour on high-born names, am I to be charged with brith from grandsires of no repute. I’ve no doubt that your gods condemn you: storm-ridden for seven years, by land and sea. the mother of Love, was born naked from Cythera’s waters. Ah, do make us more, glide over the conquered wave, O you whom I have welcomed to all my inmost heart! The reproach I will endure – only let him who endures have his just reward. where would you find a wife, to love you like this? The victor is absent, and I am not allowed to know. captured when their island of Lesbos was overthrown: and with all this – but you don’t need a bride –. were a slave: the nymph endured marriage with a slave! and the blue waves received the new-caulked vessels. 8. Grant forgiveness of my sin: he was worthy, he who deceived me: that it was him removes the evil from my offence. who died well, for and with their country. May I perish if, to speak truth, you were worthy of it; but I am kinder than is just or your deserve. and he moderates the force of it himself. Four times the moon has hidden, four times waxed to the full. When she’s exhausted sea and land, let her try the air: may she wander helpless, hopeless, bloodied by her crimes. Rejoice for us both, Jason –. Paris to Helen the reason for his delay, or in what land he cruelly hides. [1] From stolen Briseis is the writing you read, scarce charactered in Greek … Ah, like a madwoman, I even had your damaged fleet rebuilt. He groans and sighs in his silent breast, for he suffers my displeasure without deserving it. and age-old men: they agreed it was wrong. were to be marked by this unaccustomed stain. may she be bereaved of similar children, and her husband! I remember you could say nothing more to me. The day was often postponed. and hide the horses of the sun in darkness: she could hold back the waters, and halt the falling streams. And, what were superfluous, girls of outstanding beauty. Or ships and Tritons? barbarous gifts are set before the country’s gods. Why, if he who is on high. [85] I had set foot upon land; the light was almost gone, and the sun was making ready to take their yokes from his shining steeds. Why, O tardy loiterer, are you so often away from me? Ah me, that you rejoice and are pleased by that state of my will! I have no strength to drive these enemies from the house: you must come quickly, to your harbour and refuge! Treacherous Theseus, following the guiding thread. Who laid open the road for you to enter upon another’s hopes? You may chide and be angry as much as you will, if only you let me enjoy you while you are angry. The course of my fate holds true to the end. Two seas pound the Isthmus with their waves. by Venus, and those weapons, made so much so to me. If I might have been ransomed to you by Atrides, at a price. and as I am forsaken, a wife, and mother of two children. departs weary of being questioned by me, about you: and what he’ll deliver to you, if he sees you anywhere. nor would that daughter-in-law be concealed by Hecuba. If you measure hours closely, as lovers measure. Led by this god, are you not driven by adverse winds, Returning to Troy had scarcely been so much effort for you. but my words fail, and carry little weight. Alas! You are idle, and slow to anger. – when there is thrown before my feet an apple with this verse that follows – ah me, now again I almost made oath to you! and where the wild beast hides her cubs among the rocks? Spare me, I beg you, by Venus who’s closest to me: and so may you never love, what scorns you: may the nimble goddess be with you in secret glades. Nor is this the first wound, from a weapon, my heart suffers: that place bears the wound of cruel love. to be sent as a gift to some woman of Priam’s household. Why have I passed so many cold and lonely nights? There’s no ram here with a remarkable golden fleece. My flesh and colour fade: the one hope I still have left is that of your feelings. he scattered them over the soil: left my sister a prey to wild beasts. We too could soon be numbered in this throng! An isle once thronged by he Corycian nymphs is girdled by the Aegean sea; its name is Cea. It is wedlock with you that I ask, and the faith you pledged me, not a crime; as your destined husband, not as a deceiver, do I love. you’ll find each one a thunderbolt falling on you! Bid me come, forthwith, after the manner of a mistress. I, daughter of Thoas, cheated of my husband, beg this: Dardanian, receive this song of dying Elissa: what you read are the last words written by me. Ah! the other, Sol, his forehead fenced with sharp rays, drives his gleaming chariot through the heat of day –, Nobility lies here subject to love: pity my forefathers. 1. I’ll come myself as your companion, the hidden rocks. HEROIDES EPISTLES 11 - 15, TRANSLATED BY GRANT SHOWERMAN XI. I don’t know what to fear: I fear everything, insanely. Read what is here. and Ulysses, Laertes’s son: I might be returned through them: they added many valuable gifts to their entreaties: and seven tripods of equal weight and art. – to what violent man do you abandon me? you’d be more widely known as the cause of my death. so that, though iron, and steel, and you, excel in hardness, you will say: ‘Phyllis, this was not the way to follow me!’, Often I thirst for poison, often I’d like to die. If I’m still yours, I’ve been shown great indulgence. It’s enough for you to bear notoriety for my death. Troy lies in ruins, an enemy, indeed, to the girls of Greece -. Yet, with so many lost, you alone made up for them: you were lord, you were husband, you were brother to me. Allow that death is fit punishment for this theft of you, it will be less than not to have possessed you. speaks to Jason: how much of your heart was truly in your words? I pray that I might be swallowed by some sudden crack in the earth. Thus I’d curse you more harshly than if you died. 1. love’s sought, and its nature’s to be bought, by magic practices. and scratched my wet cheeks with sharp nails, and filled sacred Ida with howls of complaint. Will you read them? Briseis to Achilles. and if anyone asks why you decline to fight –. It’s right and natural that shame is mingled with love: love ordered me to write, to say what shames me. Deianira to Hercules Not for you the unbarring of a harsh husband’s gate. My stunned heart trembled, and a cold tremor. The chaste favourite of the goddess, courted by Phaedra, who compassed his death because of his refusal. Like Menelaus who cries out at the desecration of his marriage bed. 2. seeing that your promise might lapse through time alone! As delegate, I’ll beg my lord. The rest must be your care; even this, that my letter has not feared to speak with you, is more than a maid should do. not knowing if she will be at all kind to me. while Phyllis could still die virtuously. Consider Laertes: who keeps death back to the very last day. O more firmly let our eager loves be knit, and our joys be faithful and true! War broke out. shouting to me, as you left, at the top of your voice: ‘Phyllis, make sure you wait for your Demophoon!’. (Version 1) * Beautifully illustrated with images relating to Valerius’ life and works * Features the complete extant text of ‘Argonautica’, in both English translation and the original Latin * Concise introduction to the text * Includes J. H. Mozley’s translation, … Meanwhile, since the billows will not let the swimmer come, let the letter that I send you soften the hated hours of delay. and kill so many men, with the help of one! Why did you fear what was not to come? Were it a woman, and I should know, I should die of grieving, believe me; sin against me at once, if you desire my death! When I beheld it from afar, “Why doest thou fly from me, O isle?” I cried; “Art thou afloat in the great sea, as in days of yore?”. You men, now in the chase, and now husbanding the genial acres of the country, consume long hours in the varied tasks that keep you.

heroides 1 translation

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