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Though you to heroes and to kings succeed, Yet granting this, the other part is feign'd; Our famous race does no addition need;
A bribe so mean your sentence had not gain'd. And great alliances but useless prove
With partial eyes I should myself regard; To one, that comes herself from mighty Jove, To think that Venus made me her reward : Go then, and boast in some less haughty place I humbly am content with human praise; Your Phrygian blood, and Priam's ancient race; A goddess's applause would envy raise. Which I would show I valued, if I durst;
But be it as you say; for, 'tis confest, You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first. The men, who flatter highest, please us best. The crown of Troy is powerful, I confess;
That I suspect it, ought not to displease; But I have reason to think ours no less.
For miracles are not believ'd with ease. Your letter, fill'd with promises of all
One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice; That men can good, and women pleasant call, A greater yet, that you confirm'd her choice; Gives expectation such an ample field,
That proffer'd laurels, promis'd sovereignty, As would move goddesses themselves to yield.
Juno and Pallas you contemn'd for me. But if I e'er offend great Juno's laws,
Am I your empire then, and your renown? Yourself shall be the dear, the only cause :
What heart of rock, but must by this be won? Either my honour I'll to death maintain,
And yet bear witness, O you powers above,
My hand is yet untaught to write to men:
This is th' essay of my unpractis'd pen. But 'tis your love moves me, which made you take Happy those nymphs, whom use has perfect made! Such pains, and run such hazards for my sake.
I think all crime, and tremble at a shade, I have perceiv'd (though I dissembled too)
Ev'n while I write, my fearful conscious eyes A thousand things that love has made you do.
Look often back, misdoubting a surprise. Your eager eyes would almost dazzle mine, For now the rumour spreads among the crowd, In which (wild man) your wanton thoughts would At court in whispers, but in town aloud : shine.
Dissemble you, whate'er you hear them say: Sometimes you'd sigh, sometimes disorder'd stand, To leave off loving were your better way; And with unusual ardour press my hand;
Yet if you will dissemble it, you may: Contrive just after me to take the glass,
Love secretly: the absence of my lord Nor would you let the least occasion pass :
More freedom gives, but does not all afford :
Long is his journey, long will be his stay;
Then, kissing me, he said, “ I recommend Under my name, those charming words, I love. All to thy care, but most my Trojan friend.” 1, frowning, seem'd not to believe your flame;
I smil'd at what he innocently said,
Propitious winds have borne him far from hence, I could not but be sensible of this.
But let not this secure your confidence. For oh! your face has such peculiar charms, Absent he is, yet absent he commands: That who can hold from flying to your arms? You know the proverb, “ Princes have long hands." But what I ne'er can have without offence, My fame's my burthen; for the more I'm prais d,, May some blest maid possess with innocence. A juster ground of jealousy is rais’d. Pieasure may tempt, but virtue more should move; Were I less fair, I might have been more blest: O learn of me to want the thing you love, Great beauty through great danger is possest. What you desire is sought by all mankind : To leave me here, his venture was not hard, As you have eyes, so others are not blind. Because he thought my virtue was my guard. Like
you they see, like you my charms adore; He fear'd my face, but trusted to my life, They wish not less, but you dare venture more. The beauty doubted, but believ'd the wife, Oh! had you then upon our coasts been brought, You bid me use th’occasion while I can, My virgin-love when thousand rivals sought, Put in our hands by the good easy man. You had I seen, you should have had my voice; I would, and yet I doubt 'twixt love and fear; Nor could my husband justly blame my choice: One draws me from you, and one brings me near. For both our hopes, alas! you come too late ;
Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone : Another now is master of my fate.
The nights are long; I fear to lie alone. More to my wish I could have liv'd with you,
One house contains us, and weak walls divide, And yet my present lot can undergo.
And you 're too pressing to be long deny'd. Cease to solicit a weak woman's will,
Let me not live, but every thing conspires And urge not her you love to so much.ill; To join our loves, and yet my fear retires. But let me live contented as I may,
You court with words, when you should force emAnd make not my unspotted fame your prey.
A rape is requisite to shame-fac'd joy.
(pluy: Some right you claim, since naked to your eyes
Indulgent to the wrongs which we receivega.
Our sex can suffer what we dare not give.
Our kindling fire if each of us supprest.
The faith of strangers is too prone to change, To think such nymphs would show you such a And, like themselves, their wand'ring passions
sight: YOL. IX.
Hypsipile, and the fond Minonian maid,
My woman knows the secret of my heart,
DIDO TO ÆNE AS.
Æneas, the son of Venus and Anchises, having, at And breaks asunder our unfinish'd joys.
the destruction of Troy, saved his gods, his But I with you may leave the Spartan court,
father, and son Ascanius, from the fire, put to To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court: Shown while I see, I shall expose my fame,
sea with twenty sail of ships; and, having been
long tost with tempests, was at last cast upon the And fill a foreign country with my shame.
shore of Libya, where queen Dido (fiying from In Asia what reception shall I find ?
the cru.lty of Pygmalion her brother, who had And what dishonour leave in Greece behind ?
killed her husband Sichæus) had lately built What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba,
Carthage. She entertained Æneas and his fleet And what will all your modest matrons say?
with great civility, fell passionately in love Ev'n you, when on this action you reflect,
with hiin, and in the end denied him not the last My future conduct justly may suspect,
favours. But Mercury admonishing Æneas to And whate'er stranger lands upon your coast,
go in search of Italy, (a kingdom promised Conclude me, by your own example, lost.
him by the gods) he readily prepared to obey I from your rage a strumpet's name shall hear,
him. Dido soon perceived it, and having in While you forget what part in it you bear.
vain tried all other means to engage him to You, my crime's anthor, will my crime upbraid :
stay, at last in despair writes to him as follows. Deep under ground, oh, let me first be laid ! You boast the pomp and plenty of your land, An: promise all shall be at my command : So, on Mæander's banks, when death is nigh, Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise; The mournful swan sings her own elegy. My own poor native land has dearer ties.
Not that I hope (for, oh, that hope were vain!) Should I be injurd on your Phrygian shore, By words your lost affection to regain : What help of kindred could I there implore?
But, having lost whate'er was worth my care, Medea was by Jason's flattery won:
Why should I fear to lose a dying prayer? I may, like her, believe, and be undone.
"Tis then resolv'd poor Dido must be left, Plain honest hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat, Of life, of honour, and of love bereft! And love contributes to its own deceit.
While you, with loosen'd sails and vows, prepare The ships, about whose sides loud tempests roar, To seek a land, that flies the searcher's care. With gentle winds were wafted from the shore. Nor can my rising towers your flight restrain, Your teeming mother dream'd a flaming brand, Nor my new empire, offer'd you in vain. Sprung from her womb, consum’d the Trojan Bailt walls you shun, unbuilt you seek; that land land.
Is yet to conquer; but you this command. To second this, old prophecies conspire,
Suppose you landed where your wish design'd, That llium shall be burnt with Grecian fire. Think what reception foreigners would find. Both give me fear; nor is it much allay'd, What people is so void of common sense, That Venus is oblig'd our loves to aid.
Po vote succession from a native prince ? For they, who lost their cause, revenge will take; Yet there new sceptres and new loves you seek; And for one friend two enernies you make. New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break. Nor can I doubt, but, should I follow you, When will your towers the height of Carthage The sword would soon our fatal crime pursue.
know? A wrong so great my husband's rage would rouse, Or when your eyes discern such crowds below? And my relations would his cause espouse.
If such a town and subjects you could see, You boast your strength and courage; but, alas! Still would you want a wife, who lov'd like me. Your words receive small credit from your face, For, oh, I burn, like fires with incense bright: Let heroes in the dusty field delight,
Not holy tapers flame with purer light : Those limbs were fashion’d for another fight. Æneas is my thoughts' perpetual theme; Bid Hector sally from the walls of Troy ;
Their daily longing, and their nightly dream.
Myself I cannot to myself restore :
Have pity, Cupid, on my bleeding heart,
And pierce thy brother's with an equal dart. These are your words, but I can guess your I rave: nor canst thou Venus' offspring be, sense.
Love's mother could not bear a son like thee. Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend : From harden'd vak, or from a rock's cold womb, Be ruld by me, and Time may be your friend.
At least thou art from some fierce tigress come; This is enough to let you understand;
Or on rougb seas, from their foundation torn, For now my pea has tir'd my tender hand:
Got by the Winds and in a tempest boru:
Like that which now thy trembling sailors fear; Last night, methought, he call'd me from the dome,
But comes more slowly, clogg'd with conscious
His goddess mother, and his aged sire To shun my love, if thou wilt seek thy fate, Borne on his back, did to iny fall conspire. 'Tis a dear purchase, and a costly hate.
Oh! such he was, and is, that, were he true, Stay but a little, till the tempest cease,
Without a blush I might his love pursue. And the loud winds are lull'd into a peace.
But cruel stars my birth-day did attend;
My plighted lord was at the altar slain,
To foreign countries I remov'd my fate;
I bought the ground on which my city stands,
W th all the coast that stretches to the sea; There winged storms on sea-born Venus wait, Ev'n to the friendly port that shelter'd thee: 'To vindicate the justice of her state.
Then rais'd these walls, which mount into the air, Thus I to thee the means of safety show;
At once my neighbours' wonder, and their fear, And, lost myself, would still preserve my foe.
For now they arm; and round me leagues are made, False as thou art, I not thy death design:
My scarce-establish'd empire to invade. O rather live, to be the cause of mine!
To man my new-built walls I must prepare, Should some avenging storm thy vessel tear, An helpless woman, and unskill'd in war. (But Heaven forbid my words should omen bear)
Yet thousand rivals to my love pretend ; Then in thy face thy perjur'd vows would fly; And for my person would my crown defend: And my wrong'd ghost be present to thy eye. Whose jarring votes in one complaint agree, With threatening looks think thou behold'st me That each unjustly is disdain'd for thee. stare,
To proud Hyarbas give me up a prey ; Gasping my mouth, and clotted all my hair. (For that must follow, if thou goest away.) Then, should fork'd lightning and red thunder fall, Or to my husband's murderer leave my life, What could'st thou say, but I deserv'd 'em all? That to the husband he may add the wife. Lest this should happen, make not haste away;
Go then, since no complaints can move thy mind: To shun the danger will be worth thy stay. Go, perjur'd man, but leave thy gods bebind. Have pity on thy son, if not on me:
Touch not those gods, by whom thou art forsworn,
Who will in impious hands no more be borne:
The babe unborn must perish by thy hate,
And perish guiltless in his mother's fate. Left to pursuing foes Creusa stay'd,
Some god, thou say'st, thy voyage does comBy thee, base man, forsaken and betray'd.
(land! This, when thou told'st me, struck my tender heart, Would the same god had barr’d thee from my That such requital follow'd such desert.
I doubt not, thy departure steers, Nor doubt I but the gods, for crimes like these, Who kept thee out at sea so many years; Seven winters kept thee wandering on the seas. While thy long labours were a price so great, Thy starv'd companions, cast ashore, I fed, As thou to purchase Troy would'st not repeat. Thyself admitted to my crown and bed.
But Tyber now thou seek'st, to be at best,
When there arriv'd, a poor precarious guest.
Here young Ascanius may his arms employ;
By Cupid's arrows, I adjure thee, stay ;
Su mav thy Trojans, who are yet alive, And to his arms restore my guilty ghost.
Live still, and with no future fortune strive;
So may thy youthful son old age attain,
Who knew crime, but too much love of thee.
I am not born from fierce Achilles' line,
If not, know this, I will not suffer long; Nor did my parents against Troy combine. My life's too loathsome, and my love too strong. To be thy wife if I unworthy prove,
Death holds my pen and dictates what I say, By some inferior name admit my love.
While cross my lap the Trojan sword I lay. To be secur'd of still possessing thee,
My tears flow down; the sharp edge cuts their food, What would I do, and what would I not be ! And drinks my sorrows that must drink my blood. Our Libyan coas their certain seasons know, How well thy gift does with my fate agree ! When free from tempests passengers may go:
My funeral pomp is cheaply made by thee, But now with northern blasts the billows roar, To no new wounds my bosom 1 display: And drive the floating sea-weed to the shore. The sword but enters where Love made the way. Leave to my care the time to sail away;
But thou, dear sister, and yet dearer friend, When safe, I will not suffer thee to stay.
Shalt my cold ashes to their urn attend.
This short inscription only let it bear:
The cause of death, and sword by which she dy'd, And give me time to struggle with my woe. Æneas gave: the rest her arm supply'd."
TRANSLATION FROM OVID'S ART OF LOVE.
THE FIRST BOOK
Experience makes my work; a truth so try'd
You may believe; and Venus be my guide.
Far hence, ye vestals, be, who bind your hair;
And wives, who gowns below your ancles wear. IN Cupid's school
whoe'er would take degree, I sing the brothels loose and unconfin'd, Must learn his rudiments by reading me. Th' unpunishable pleasures of the kind;
Seamen with sailing arts their vessels move; Which all alike, for love, or money, find. Art guides the chariot: Art instructs to love. You, who ia Cupid's rolls inscribe your name, Of ships and chariots others know the rule; First seek an object worthy of your fame; But I am master in Love's mighty school. Then strive, with art, your lady's mind to gain: Cupid indeed is obstinate and wild,
And last, provide your love may long remain. A stubborn god; but yet the god's a child: On these three precepts all my work shall move: Easy to govern in his tender age,
These are the rules and principles of Love. Like fierce Achilles in his pupillage :
Before your youth with marriage is opprest, That hero, born for conquest, trembling stood Make choice of one who suits your humour Before the Centaur, and receiv'd the rod,
best: As Chiron mollify'd his cruel mind
And such a damsel drops not from the sky; With art, and taught his warlike hands to wind She must be sought for with a curious eye, The silver strings of his melodious lyre:
The wary angler, in the winding brook, So Love's fair goddess does my soul inspire, Knows what the fish, and where to bait his hook. To teach her softer arts; to sooth the mind, The fowler and the huntsman know by name And smooth the rugged breasts of human-kind. The certain haunts and harbour of their game.
Yet Cupid and Achilles each with scorn So must the lover beat the likeliest grounds; And rage were fill'd; and both were goddess-born. Th’asse mbly where his quarry most abounds. The bull, reclaim'd and yok'd, the burthen draws; Nor shall my novice wander far astray; The horse receives the bit within his jaws; These rules shall put him in the ready way. And stubborn Love shall bend beneath my sway, Thou shalt not sail around the continent, Though struggling oft he strives to disobey. As far as Perseus or as Paris went: He shakes his torch, he wounds me with his darts; For Rome alone affords thee such a store, But vain his force, and vainer are his arts. As all the world can þardly show thee more. The more he burns my soul, or wounds my sight, The face of Heaven with fewer stars is crown'd, The more he teaches to revenge the spite. Than beauties in the Roman sphere are found. I boast no aid the Delphian god affords,
Whether thy love is bent on blooming youth, Nor auspice from the flight of chattering birds; On dawning sweetness in unartful truth ; Nor Clio nor her sisters have I seen;
Or courts the juicy joys of riper growth ; As Hesiod saw them on the shady green:
Here mayst thou find thy full desires in both,
Or if autumnal beauties please thy sight
Their fear was one, but not one face of fear; (An age that knows to give and take delight); Some rend the lovely tresses of their hair; Millions of matrons of the graver sort,
Some shriek, and some are struck with dumbdespair. In common prudence, will not balk the sport. Her absent mother one invokes in vain;
In summer heats thou need'st but only go One stands amaz’d, not daring to complain; To Pompey's cool and shady portico;
The nimbler trust their feet, the slow remain. Or Concord's fane; or that proud edifice,
But nought availing, all are captives led, Whose turrets near the bawdy suburb rise: Trembling and blushing, to the genial bed. Or to that other portico, where stands
She who too long resisted, or deny'd, The cruel father urging his commands,
The lusty lover made by force a bride; And fifty daughters wait the time of rest,
And with superior strength, compelled her to his To plunge their poniards in the bridegrooms breast : side. Or Venus' temple; where, on annual nights, Then sooth'd herthus:-“My soul's far better part, They mourn Adonis with Assyrian rites.
Cease weeping, nor afflict thỹ tender heart: Nor shun the Jewish walk, where the foul drove, For what thy father to thy mother was, On sabbaths, rest from every thing but love: That faith to thee, that solemn vow I pass.” Nor Isis' temple; for that sacred whore
Thus Romulus became so popular; Makes others, what to Jove she was before. This was the way to thrive in peace and war; And if the hall itself be not bely'd,
To pay his army, and fresh whores to bring: Ev'n there the cause of Love is often try'd; Who would not fight for such a gracious king? • Near it at least, or in the palace-yard,
Thus love in theatres did first improve; From whence the noisy combatants are heard. And theatres are still the scenes of love: The crasty counsellors, in formal gown,
Nor shun the chariot's and the courser's race; There gain another's cause, but lose their own. The Circus is no inconvenient place. There eloquence is nonplust in the suit;
No need is there of talking on the hand; And lawyers, who had words at will, are mute. Nor nods, nor signs, which lovers understand. Venus, from her adjoining temple, smiles, But boldly next the fair your seat provide, To see them caught in their litigious wiles. Close as you can to hers, and side by side. Grave senators lead home the youthful dáme, Pieas'd or unpleas'd, no matter; crowding sit: Returning clients, when they patrons came. For so the laws of public shows permit. But, above all, the play-house is the place; Then find occasion to begin discourse; There's choice of quarry in that narrow chase. Inquire, whose chariot this, and whose that horse? There take thy stand, and sharply looking out, To whatsoever side she is inclin'd, Soon may'st thou find a mistress in the rout, Suit all your inclinations to her mind; For length of time, or for a single bout.
Like what she likes; from thence your court begin; The theatres are berries for the fair :
And whom she favours, wish that he may win. Like ants on mole-hills thither they repair; But when the statues of the deities, Like bees to hives, so numerously they throng, In chariots roll'd, appear before the prize; It may be said, they to that place belong. When Venus comes, with deep devotion rise. Thither they swarm, who have the public voice: If dust be on her lap, or grains of sand, There choose, if plenty not distracts thy choice: Brush both away with your officious hand. To see, and to be seen, in heaps they run; If none be there, yet brush that nothing thence; Some to undo, and some to be undone.
And still to touch her lap make some pretence. From Romulus the rise of plays began, Touch any thing of hers; and if her train To his new subjects a commodious man; Sweep on the ground, let it not sweep in vain; Who, his unmarried soldiers to supply,
But gently take it up, and wipe it clean; Took care the commonwealth should multiply : And while you wipe it, with observing eyes, Providing Sabine women for his braves,
Who knows but you may see her naked thighs! Like a true king, to get a race of slaves.
Observe, who sits behind her; and beware, His play-house not of Parian marble made, Lest his encroaching knee should press the fair. Nor was it spread with purple sails for shade. Light service takes light minds: for some can tell The stage with rushes or with leaves they strew'd: Of favours won, by laying cushions well: No scenes in prospect, no machining god. By fanning faces some their fortune meet; On rows of homely turf they sat to see,
And some by laying footstools for their feet. Crown'd with the wreaths of every common tree. These overtures of love the Circus gives; There, while they sat in rustic majesty,
Nor at the sword-play less the lover thrives : Fach lover had his mistress in his eye;
For there the son of Venus fights his prize; And whom he saw most suiting to his mind, And deepest wounds are oft receiv'd from eyes. For joys of matrimonial rape design'd.
One, while the crowd their acclamations make, Scarce could they wait the plandit in their haste; Or while he bets, and puts his ring to stake, But, ere the dances and the song were past, Is struck from far, and feels the flying dart; The monarch gave the signal from his throne; And of the spectacle is made a part. And, rising, bade his merry men fall on.
Cæsar would represent a naval fight, The marshal crew, like soldiers ready prest, For his own honour, and for Rome's delight. Just at the word (the word too was, The best) From either sea the youths and maidens come; With joyful cries each other animate ;
And all the world was then contain'd in Rome. Some choose, and some at hazard seize their In this vast concourse, in this choice of game, mate.
What Roman heart but felt a foreign flame? As doves from eagles, or from wolves the'lambs, Once more our prince prepares to make us glad; So from their lawless lovers fly the daipes. And the remaining east to Rome will add.