A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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Epode V: On the Witch Canidia.
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 | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace |  |
Epode V: On the Witch Canidia.
But oh, ye Gods, whose awful Sway
Heaven, Earth, and human Kind obey,
What can this hideous Noise intend,
On me what ghastly Looks they bend?
Heaven, Earth, and human Kind obey,
What can this hideous Noise intend,
On me what ghastly Looks they bend?
If ever chaste Lucina heard
Thy Vows in Hour of Birth prefer'd;
Oh! by this Robe's impurpled Train,
Its purple Pride, alas! how vain!
By the unerring Wrath of Jove,
Unerring shall his Vengeance prove;
Why like a Step-Dame do you look,
Or Tygress fell by Hunter struck?
Thy Vows in Hour of Birth prefer'd;
Oh! by this Robe's impurpled Train,
Its purple Pride, alas! how vain!
By the unerring Wrath of Jove,
Unerring shall his Vengeance prove;
437
Or Tygress fell by Hunter struck?
Thus, while his sacred Robes they tear,
The trembling Boy prefers his Prayer;
Then naked stands, with Charms to move
An impious Thracian Witch to Love.
Canidia, crown'd with writhing Snakes
Dishevell'd, thus the Silence breaks,
‘Now the magic Fire prepare,
‘And from Graves uprooted tear
‘Trees, whose Horrours gloomy spread
‘Round the Mansions of the Dead;
‘Bring the Eggs, and Plumage foul
‘Of a midnight shrieking Owl;
‘Be they well besmear'd with Blood
‘Of the blackest-venom'd Toad;
‘Bring the choicest Drugs of Spain,
‘Produce of the poisonous Plain;
‘Then into the Charm be thrown,
‘Snatch'd from famish'd Bitch, a Bone;
‘Burn them all with magic Flame,
‘Kindled first by Colchian Dame.’
Now Sagana, around the Cell
Sprinkled her Waters black from Hell;
Fierce as a Porcupine, or Boar,
In frightful Wreaths her Hair she wore.
The trembling Boy prefers his Prayer;
Then naked stands, with Charms to move
An impious Thracian Witch to Love.
Canidia, crown'd with writhing Snakes
Dishevell'd, thus the Silence breaks,
‘Now the magic Fire prepare,
‘And from Graves uprooted tear
‘Trees, whose Horrours gloomy spread
‘Round the Mansions of the Dead;
‘Bring the Eggs, and Plumage foul
‘Of a midnight shrieking Owl;
‘Be they well besmear'd with Blood
‘Of the blackest-venom'd Toad;
‘Bring the choicest Drugs of Spain,
‘Produce of the poisonous Plain;
‘Then into the Charm be thrown,
‘Snatch'd from famish'd Bitch, a Bone;
‘Burn them all with magic Flame,
‘Kindled first by Colchian Dame.’
Now Sagana, around the Cell
Sprinkled her Waters black from Hell;
439
In frightful Wreaths her Hair she wore.
Veia, who never knew Remorse,
Uplifts the Spade with feeble Force,
And breathless with the horrid Toil,
Deep-groaning breaks the guilty Soil,
Turns out the Earth, and digs a Grave
In which the Boy (as o'er the Wave
A lusty Swimmer lifts his Head)
Chin-deep sinks downward to the Dead,
O'er Dainties, chang'd twice thrice a-day,
Slowly to gaze his Life away,
That the foul Hags an amorous Dose
Of his parch'd Marrow may compose,
His Marrow, and his Liver dry'd,
The Seat where wanton Thoughts reside,
When fix'd upon his Food in vain,
His Eye-balls pin'd away with Pain.
Uplifts the Spade with feeble Force,
And breathless with the horrid Toil,
Deep-groaning breaks the guilty Soil,
Turns out the Earth, and digs a Grave
In which the Boy (as o'er the Wave
A lusty Swimmer lifts his Head)
Chin-deep sinks downward to the Dead,
O'er Dainties, chang'd twice thrice a-day,
Slowly to gaze his Life away,
That the foul Hags an amorous Dose
Of his parch'd Marrow may compose,
His Marrow, and his Liver dry'd,
The Seat where wanton Thoughts reside,
When fix'd upon his Food in vain,
His Eye-balls pin'd away with Pain.
Naples, for Idleness renown'd,
And all the Villages around,
Believe that Folia shar'd their Rites,
She who in monstrous Lusts delights,
Whose Voice the Stars from Heaven can tear,
And charm bright Luna from her Sphere.
And all the Villages around,
Believe that Folia shar'd their Rites,
She who in monstrous Lusts delights,
Whose Voice the Stars from Heaven can tear,
And charm bright Luna from her Sphere.
441
Here, with black Tooth, and livid Jaws,
Her unpar'd Thumbs Canidia gnaws,
And into hideous Accents broke,
In Sounds, how direful! thus she spoke,
Her unpar'd Thumbs Canidia gnaws,
And into hideous Accents broke,
In Sounds, how direful! thus she spoke,
Ye Powers of Darkness and of Hell,
Propitious to the magic Spell,
Who rule in Silence o'er the Night,
While we perform the mystic Rite,
Be present now, your Horrours shed,
In hallow'd Vengeance, on his Head.
Propitious to the magic Spell,
Who rule in Silence o'er the Night,
While we perform the mystic Rite,
Be present now, your Horrours shed,
In hallow'd Vengeance, on his Head.
Beneath the Forest's gloomy Shade,
While Beasts in Slumbers sweet are laid,
Give me the Lecher, old and lewd,
By barking Village-Curs pursued,
Expos'd to Laughter, let him shine
In Essence—ah! that once was mine.
What! do my strongest Potions fail,
Or than Medea's less prevail?
For the fair Harlot, proud of Heart
Deep felt the Vengeance of her Art;
Her Gown, with powerful Poisons dyed,
In Flames enwrap'd the guilty Bride.
But every Root and Herb I know,
And on what steepy Depths they grow,
And yet, with Essence round him shed,
He sleeps in some bold Harlot's Bed,
Or walks at large, nor thinks of me,
By some more mighty Witch set free.
While Beasts in Slumbers sweet are laid,
Give me the Lecher, old and lewd,
By barking Village-Curs pursued,
Expos'd to Laughter, let him shine
In Essence—ah! that once was mine.
What! do my strongest Potions fail,
Or than Medea's less prevail?
For the fair Harlot, proud of Heart
Deep felt the Vengeance of her Art;
Her Gown, with powerful Poisons dyed,
In Flames enwrap'd the guilty Bride.
But every Root and Herb I know,
And on what steepy Depths they grow,
And yet, with Essence round him shed,
He sleeps in some bold Harlot's Bed,
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By some more mighty Witch set free.
But soon the Wretch my Wrath shall prove,
By Spells unwonted taught to love,
Nor shall even Marsian Charms have Power,
Thy Peace, O Varus, to restore.
I'll fill, to bend thy haughty Soul,
With stronger Drugs a larger Bowl.
Sooner the Seas to Heaven shall rise,
And Earth spring upwards to the Skies,
Than you not burn in fierce Desire,
As melts this Pitch in smoaky Fire.
By Spells unwonted taught to love,
Nor shall even Marsian Charms have Power,
Thy Peace, O Varus, to restore.
I'll fill, to bend thy haughty Soul,
With stronger Drugs a larger Bowl.
Sooner the Seas to Heaven shall rise,
And Earth spring upwards to the Skies,
Than you not burn in fierce Desire,
As melts this Pitch in smoaky Fire.
The Boy, with lenient Words no more,
Now strives their Pity to implore;
With Rage yet doubtful what to speak,
Forth from his Lips these Curses break—
Your Spells may Right and Wrong remove,
But ne'er shall change the Wrath of Jove,
For while I curse the direful Deed,
In vain shall all your Victims bleed.
Soon as this mortal Spirit dies,
A midnight Fury will I rise:
Then shall my Ghost, though form'd of Air,
Your Cheeks with crooked Talons tear,
Unceasing on your Entrails prey,
And fright the Thoughts of Sleep away;
Such Horrours shall the Guilty know,
Such is the Power of Gods below.
Now strives their Pity to implore;
With Rage yet doubtful what to speak,
Forth from his Lips these Curses break—
Your Spells may Right and Wrong remove,
But ne'er shall change the Wrath of Jove,
For while I curse the direful Deed,
In vain shall all your Victims bleed.
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A midnight Fury will I rise:
Then shall my Ghost, though form'd of Air,
Your Cheeks with crooked Talons tear,
Unceasing on your Entrails prey,
And fright the Thoughts of Sleep away;
Such Horrours shall the Guilty know,
Such is the Power of Gods below.
Ye filthy Hags, with Showers of Stones
The vengeful Croud shall crush your Bones;
Then Beasts of Prey, and Birds of Air,
Shall your unburied Members tear,
And, while they weep their favourite Boy,
My Parents shall the vengeful Sight enjoy.
The vengeful Croud shall crush your Bones;
Then Beasts of Prey, and Birds of Air,
Shall your unburied Members tear,
And, while they weep their favourite Boy,
My Parents shall the vengeful Sight enjoy.
| A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | |