Публий Овидий Назон
The Amores; or, Amours
ELEGY VI
He laments the death of the parrot which he had given to Corinna.
The parrot, the imitative bird 353 sent from the Indians of the East, is dead; come in flocks to his obsequies, ye birds. Come, affectionate denizens of air, and beat your breasts with your wings; and with your hard claws disfigure your delicate features. Let your rough feathers be torn in place of your sorrowing hair; instead of the long trumpet, 354 let your songs resound.
Why, Philomela, are you complaining of the cruelty of Tereus, the Ismarian tyrant? Surely, that grievance is worn out by its length of years. Turn your attention to the sad end of a bird so prized. It is is a great cause of sorrow, but, still, that so old. All, who poise yourselves in your career in the liquid air; but you, above the rest, affectionate turtle-dove, 360 lament him. Throughout life there was a firm attachment between you, and your prolonged and lasting friendship endured to the end. What the Phocian youth 361 was to the Argive Orestes, the same, parrot, was the turtle-dove to you, so long as it was allowed by fate.
But what matters that friendship? What the beauty of your rare plumage? What your voice so ingenious at imitating sounds? What avails it that ever since you were given, you pleased my mistress? Unfortunate pride of all birds, you are indeed laid low. With your feathers you could outvie the green emerald, having your purple beak tinted with the ruddy saffron. There was no bird on earth more skilled at imitating sounds; so prettily 362 did you utter words with your lisping notes.
Through envy, you were snatched away from us: you were the cause of no cruel wars; you were a chatterer, and the lover of peaceful concord. See, the quails, amid all their battles, 363 live on; perhaps, too, for that reason, they become old. With a very little you were satisfied; and, through your love of talking, you could not give time to your mouth for much food. A nut was your food, and poppies the cause of sleep; and a drop of pure water used to dispel your thirst. The gluttonous vulture lives on, the kite, too, that forms its circles in the air, and the jackdaw, the foreboder 364 of the shower of rain. The crow, too, lives on, hateful to the armed Minerva; 366 it, indeed, will hardly die after nine ages. 367 The prattling parrot is dead, the mimic of the human voice, sent as a gift from the ends of the earth. What is best, is generally first carried off by greedy hands; what is worthless, fills its destined numbers. 368 Thersites was the witness of the lamented death of him from Phylax; and now Hector became ashes, while his brothers yet lived.
Why should I mention the affectionate prayers of my anxious mistress in your behalf; prayers borne over the seas by the stormy North wind? The seventh day was come, 369 that was doomed to give no morrow; and now stood your Destiny, with her distaff all uncovered. And yet your words did not die away, in your faltering mouth; as you died, your tongue cried aloud, "Corinna, farewell!" 370
At the foot of the Elysian hill 371 a grove, overshaded with dark holm oaks, and the earth, moist with never-dying grass, is green. If there is any believing in matters of doubt, that is said to be the abode of innocent birds, from which obscene ones are expelled. There range far and wide the guiltless swans; the long-lived Phoenix, too, ever the sole bird of its kind. There the bird itself of Juno unfolds her feathers; the gentle dove gives kisses to its loving mate. Received in this home in the groves, amid these the Parrot attracts the guileless birds by his words. 372
A sepulchre covers his bones; a sepulchre small as his body; on which a little stone has this inscription, well suited to itself: "From this very tomb 377 I may be judged to have been the favorite of my mistress. I had a tongue more skilled at talking than other birds."
ELEGY VII
He attempts to convince his mistress, who suspects the contrary, that he is not in love with her handmaid Cypassis.
Am I then 378 'to be for ever made the object of accusation by new charges? Though I should conquer, yet I am tired of entering the combat so oft. Do I look up to the very top of the marble theatre, from the multitude, you choose some woman, from whom to receive a cause of grief. Or does some beauteous fair look on me with inexpressive features; you find out that there are secret signs on the features. Do I praise any one; with your nails you attack her ill-starred locks; if I blame any one, you think I am hiding some fault. If my colour is healthy, then I am pronounced to be indifferent towards you; if unhealthy, then I am said to be dying with love for another. But I only wish I was conscious to myself of some fault; those endure punishment with equanimity, who are deserving of it. Now you accuse me without cause; and by believing every thing at random, you yourself forbid your anger to be of any consequence. See how the long-eared ass, 379 in his wretched lot, walks leisurely along, although tyrannized over with everlasting blows.
And lo! a fresh charge; Cypassis, so skilled at tiring, 380 is blamed for having been the supplanter of her mistress. May the Gods prove more favourable, than that if I should have any inclination for a faux pas, a low-born mistress of a despised class should attract me! What free man would wish to have amorous intercourse with a bondwoman, and to embrace a body mangled with the whip? 387 Add, too, that she is skilled in arranging your hair, and is a valuable servant to you for the skill of her hands. And would I, forsooth, ask such a thing of a servant, who is so faithful to you? And for why? Only that a refusal might be united to a betrayal? I swear by Venus, and by the bow of the winged boy, that I am accused of a crime which I never committed.
ELEGY VIII
He wonders how Corinna has discovered his intrigue with Cypassis, her handmaid, and tells the latter how ably he has defended her and himself to her mistress.
Cypassis, perfect in arranging the hair in a thousand fashions, but deserving to adorn the Goddesses alone; discovered, too, by me, in our delightful intrigue, to be no novice; useful, indeed, to your mistress, but still more serviceable to myself; who, I wonder, was the informant of our stolen caresses? "Whence was Corinna made acquainted with your escapade? Is it that I have blushed? Is it that, making a slip in any expression, I have given any guilty sign of our stealthy amours? And have I not, too, declared that if any one can commit the sin with a bondwoman, that man must want a sound mind?
The Thessalian was inflamed by the beauty of the captive daughter of Brises; the slave priestess of Phoebus was beloved by the general from Mycenæ. I am not greater than the descendant of Tantalus, nor greater than Achilles; why should I deem that a disgrace to me, which was becoming for monarchs?
But when she fixed her angry eyes upon you, I saw you blushing all over your cheeks. But, if, perchance, you remember, with how much more presence of mind did I myself make oath by the great Godhead of Venus! Do thou, Goddess, do thou order the warm South winds to bear away over the Carpathian ocean 388 the perjuries of a mind unsullied. In return for these services, swarthy Cypassis, 389 give me a sweet reward, your company to-day. Why refuse me, ungrateful one, and why invent new apprehensions? 'Tis enough to have laid one of your superiors under an obligation. But if, in your folly, you refuse me, as the informer, I will tell what has taken place before; and I myself will be the betrayer of my own failing. And I will tell Cypassis, in what spots I have met you, and how often, and in ways how many and what.
ELEGY IX
To Cupid.
O Cupid, never angered enough against me, O boy, that hast taken up thy abode in my heart! why dost thou torment me, who, thy soldier, have never deserted thy standards? And why, in my own camp, am I thus wounded? Why does thy torch burn, thy bow pierce, thy friends? 'Twere a greater glory to conquer those who war with thee. Nay more, did not the Hæmonian hero, afterwards, relieve him, when wounded, with his healing aid, whom he had struck with his spear. 390 The hunter follows the prey that flies, that which is caught he leaves behind; and he is ever on the search for still more than he has found. We, a multitude devoted to thee, are too well acquainted with thy arms; yet thy tardy hand slackens against the foe that resists. Of what use is it to be blunting thy barbed darts against bare bones? for Love has left my bones quite bare. Many a man is there free from Love, many a damsel, too, free from Love; from these, with great glory, may a triumph be obtained by thee.
Rome, had she not displayed her strength over the boundless earth, would, even to this day, have been planted thick with cottages of thatch. 391 The invalid soldier is drafted off to the fields 392 that he has received; the horse, when free from the race, 393 is sent into the pastures; the lengthened docks conceal the ship laid up; and the wand of repose 394 is demanded, the sword laid by. It were time for me, too, who have served so oft in love for the fair, now discharged, to be living in quiet.
And yet, if any Divinity were to say to me, 'Live on, resigning love I should decline it; so sweet an evil are the fair. When I am quite exhausted, and the passion has faded from my mind, I know not by what perturbation of my wretched feelings I am bewildered. Just as the horse that is hard of mouth bears his master headlong, as he vainly pulls in the reins covered with foam; just as a sudden gale, the land now nearly made, carries out to sea the vessel, as she is entering harbour; so, many a time, does the uncertain gale of Cupid bear me away, and rosy Love resumes his well-known weapons. Pierce me, boy; naked am I exposed to thee, my arms laid aside; hither let thy strength be directed: here thy right hand tells with effect. Here, as though bidden, do thy arrows now spontaneously come; in comparison to myself, their own quiver is hardly so well known to them.
Wretched is he who endures to rest the whole night, and who calls slumber a great good. Fool, what is slumber but the image of cold death? The Fates will give abundance of time for taking rest.
Only let the words of my deceiving mistress beguile me; in hoping, at least, great joys shall I experience. And sometimes let her use caresses; sometimes let her find fault; oft may I enjoy the favour of my mistress; often may I be repulsed. That Mars is one so dubious, is through thee, his step-son, Cupid; and after thy example does thy step-father wield his arms. Thou art fickle, and much more wavering than thy own wings; and thou both dost give and refuse thy joys at thy uncertain caprice. Still if thou dost listen to me, as I entreat thee, with thy beauteous mother; hold a sway never to be relinquished in my heart. May the damsels, a throng too flighty by far, be added to thy realms; then by two peoples wilt thou be revered.
ELEGY X
He tells Græcinus how he is in love with two mistresses at the same time.
Thou wast wont to tell me, Græcinus 395 (I remember well), 'twas thou, I am sure, that a person cannot be in love with two females at the same time. Through thee have I been deceived; through thee have I been caught without my arms. 396 Lo! to my shame, I am in love with two at the same moment. Both of them are charming; both most attentive to their dress; in skill, 'tis a matter of doubt, whether the one or the other is superior. That one is more beauteous than this; this one, too, is more beauteous than that; and this one pleases me the most, and that one the most. The one passion and the other fluctuate, like the skiff, 397 impelled by the discordant breezes, and keep me distracted. Why, Erycina, dost thou everlastingly double my pangs? Was not one damsel sufficient for my anxiety? Why add leaves to the trees, why stars to the heavens filled with them? Why additional waters to the vast ocean?
But still this is better, than if I were languishing without a flame; may a life of seriousness be the lot of my foes. May it be the lot of my foes to sleep in the couch of solitude, and to recline their limbs outstretched in the midst of the bed. But, for me, may cruel Love ever disturb my sluggish slumbers; and may I be not the solitary burden of my couch. May my mistress, with no one to hinder it, make me die with love, if one is enough to be able to do so; but if one is not enough, then two. Limbs that are thin, 401 but not without strength, may suffice; flesh it is, not sinew that my body is in want of. Delight, too, will give resources for vigour to my sides; through me has no fair ever been deceived. Often, robust through the hours of delicious night, have I proved of stalwart body, even in the mom. Happy the man, who proves the delights of Love? Oh that the Gods would grant that to be the cause of my end!
Let the soldier arm his breast 402 that faces the opposing darts, and with his blood let him purchase eternal fame. Let the greedy man seek wealth; and with forsworn mouth, let the shipwrecked man drink of the seas which he has wearied with ploughing them. But may it be my lot to perish in the service of Love: and, when I die, may I depart in the midst of his battles; 403 and may some one say, when weeping at my funeral rites: "Such was a fitting death for his life."
ELEGY XI
He endeavours to dissuade Corinna from her voyage to Baiæ.
The pine, cut on the heights of Pelion, was the first to teach the voyage full of danger, as the waves of the ocean wondered: which, boldly amid the meeting rocks, 404 bore away the ram remarkable for his yellow fleece. Oh! would that, overwhelmed, the Argo had drunk of the fatal waves, so that no one might plough the wide main with the oar.
Lo! Corinna flies from both the well-known couch, and the Penates of her home, and prepares to go upon the deceitful paths of the ocean. Ah wretched me! why, for you, must I dread the Zephyrs, and the Eastern gales, and the cold Boreas, and the warm wind of the South? There no cities will you admire, there no groves; ever the same is the azure appearance of the perfidious main.
The midst of the ocean has no tiny shells, or tinted pebbles; 405 that is the recreation 406 of the sandy shore. The shore alone, ye fair, should be pressed with your marble feet. Thus far is it safe; the rest of that path is full of hazard. And let others tell you of the warfare of the winds: the waves which Scylla infests, or those which Charybdis haunts: from what rocky range the deadly Ceraunia projects: in what gulf the Syrtes, or in what Malea 407 lies concealed. Of these let others tell: but do you believe what each of them relates: no storm injures the person who credits them.
After a length of time only is the land beheld once more, when, the cable loosened, the curving ship runs out upon the boundless main: where the anxious sailor dreads the stormy winds, and sees death as near him, as he sees the waves. What if Triton arouses the agitated waves? How parts the colour, then, from all your face! Then you may invoke the gracious stars of the fruitful Leda: 409 and may say, 'Happy she, whom her own dry land receives!'Tis far more safe to lie snug in the couch, 410 to read amusing books, 411 and to sound with one's fingers the Thracian lyre.
But if the headlong gales bear away my unavailing words, still may Galatea be propitious to your ship. The loss of such a damsel, both ye Goddesses, daughters of Nereus, and thou, father of the Nereids, would be a reproach to you. Go, mindful of me, on your way, soon to return with favouring breezes: may that, a stronger gale, fill your sails. Then may the mighty Nereus roll the ocean towards this shore: in this direction may the breezes blow: hither may the tide impel the waves. Do you yourself entreat, that the Zephyrs may come full upon your canvass: do you let out the swelling sails with your own hand.
I shall be the first, from the shore, to see the well-known ship, and I shall exclaim, "'Tis she that carries my Divinities: 412 and I will receive you in my arms, and will ravish, indiscriminately, many a kiss; the victim, promised for your return, shall fall; the soft sand shall be heaped, too, in the form of a couch; and some sand-heap shall be as a table 413 for us. There, with wine placed before us, you shall tell many a story, how your bark was nearly overwhelmed in the midst of the waves: and how, while you were hastening to me, you dreaded neither the hours of the dangerous night, nor yet the stormy Southern gales. Though they be fictions, 414 yet all will I believe as truth; why should I not myself encourage what is my own wish? May Lucifer, the most brilliant in the lofty skies, speedily bring me that day, spurring on his steed."
ELEGY XII
He rejoices in the possession of his mistress, having triumphed over every obstacle.
Come, triumphant laurels, around my temples; I am victorious: lo! in my bosom Corinna is; she, whom her husband, whom a keeper, whom a door so strong, (so many foes!) were watching, that she might by no stratagem be taken. This victory is deserving of an especial triumph: in which the prize, such as it is, is gained without bloodshed. Not lowly walls, not towns surrounded with diminutive trenches, but a fair damsel has been taken by my contrivance.
When Pergamus fell, conquered in a war of twice five years: 415 out of so many, how great was the share of renown for the son of Atreus? But my glory is undivided, and shared in by no soldier: and no other has the credit of the exploit. Myself the general, myself the troops, I have attained this end of my desires: I, myself, have been the cavalry, I the infantry, I, the standard-bearer too. Fortune, too, has mingled no hazard with my feats. Come hither, then, thou Triumph, gained by exertions entirely my own.
And the cause 416 of my warfare is no new one; had not the daughter of Tyndarus been carried off, there would have been peace between Europe and Asia. A female disgracefully set the wild Lapithæ and the two-formed race in arms, when the wine circulated. A female again, 417 good Latinus, forced the Trojans to engage in ruthless warfare, in thy realms. 'Twas the females, 421 when even now the City was but new, that sent against the Romans their fathers-in-law, and gave them cruel arms. I have beheld the bulls fighting for a snow-white mate: the heifer, herself the spectator, afforded fresh courage. Me, too, with many others, but still without bloodshed, has Cupid ordered to bear the standard in his service.
ELEGY XIII
He entreats the aid of Isis and Lucina in behalf of Corinna, in her labour.
While Corinna, in her imprudence, is trying to disengage the burden of her pregnant womb, exhausted, she lies prostrate in danger of her life. She, in truth, who incurred so great a risk unknown to me, is worthy of my wrath; but anger falls before apprehension. But yet, by me it was that she conceived; or so I think. That is often as a fact to me, which is possible.
Isis, thou who dost 422 inhabit Parætonium, 423 and the genial fields of Canopus, 424 and Memphis, 425 and palm-bearing Pharos, 426 and where the rapid. Nile, discharged from its vast bed, rushes through its seven channels into the ocean waves; by thy 'sistra' 428 do I entreat thee; by the faces, too, of revered Anubis; 429 and then may the benignant Osiris 430 ever love thy rites, and may the sluggish serpent 431 ever wreath around thy altars, and may the horned Apis 432 walk in the procession as thy attendant; turn hither thy features, 433 and in one have mercy upon two; for to my mistress wilt thou be giving life, she to me. Full many a time in thy honour has she sat on thy appointed days, 434 on which 435 the throng of the Galli 436 wreathe themselves with thy laurels. 437
Thou, too, who dost have compassion on the females who are in labour, whose latent burden distends their bodies slowly moving; come, propitious Ilithyia, 438 and listen to my prayers. She is worthy for thee to command to become indebted to thee. I, myself, in white array, will offer frankincense at thy smoking altars; I, myself, will offer before thy feet the gifts that I have vowed. I will add this inscription too; "Naso, for the preservation of Corinna, offers these." But if, amid apprehensions so great, I may be allowed to give you advice, let it suffice for you, Corinna, to have struggled in this one combat.
