 | Ouids elegies |  |
ELEGIA. 8. Exacratur lenam quæ puellam suam meretricia arte instituebat.
There is, who ere will know a bawde aright,Giue eare, there is an old trot Dipsas hight.
Her name comes from the thing: she being wise,
Sees not the morne on rosie horses rise.
She magick artes and Thessale charmes doth know,
And makes large streams back to their fountaines flow,
She knows with gras, with thrids on wrōg wheeles spun,
And what with Mares ranck humour may be done.
When she will, cloudes the darkned heau'n obscure,
When she will, day shiner euery where most pure.
(If I haue faith) I saw the starres drop blood,
The purple moone with sanguine visage stood;
Her I suspect among nights spirits to flie,
And her old body in birdes plumes to lie.
Fame sayth as I suspect, and in her eyes,
Two eye-balles shine, and double light thence flies.
Great grand-sires from their ancient graues she chides,
And with long charmes the solide earth diuides.
She drawes chast women to incontinence,
Nor doth her tongue want harmefull eloquence.
By chaunce I heard her talke, these words she said,
While closely hid betwixt two dores I layed.
Mistris thou knowest, thou hast a blest youth pleas'd,
He stayde and on thy lookes his gazes seaz'd.
And why should'st nor please? none thy face exceedes,
Aye me, thy body hath no worthy weedes.
As thou art faire, would thou wert fortunate,
Wert thou rich, poore should not be my state.
Now Mars is gone: Venus thy side doth warme,
And brings good fortune, a rich louer plants,
His loue on thee, and can supply thy wants.
Such is his forme as may with thine compare,
Would he not buy thee, thou for him should'st care.
She blush't: red shame becomes white checkes, but this
If feigned, doth well; if true it doth amisse.
When on thy lappe thine eyes thou doest deiect,
Each one according to his gifts respect.
Perhaps the Sabines rude, when Tatius raignde,
To yeeld their loue to more then one disdainde.
Now Mars doth rage abroad without all pitty,
And Venus rules in her Æneas citty.
Faire women play, shee's chast whom none will haue,
Or, but for bashfulnesse her selfe would craue.
Shake off these wrinkles that thy front assault,
Wrinckles in beauty is a grieuous fault.
Penelope in bowes her youths strength tride,
Of horne the bow was that approu'd their side.
Time flying slides hence closely, and deceaues vs,
And with swift horses the swift yeare soone leaues vs.
Brasse shines with vse; good garments would be worne,
Houses not dwelt in, are with filth forlorne.
Beauty not exercisde with age is spent,
Nor one or two men are sufficient.
Many to rob is more sure, and lesse hatefull,
From dog-kept flocks come preys to woolus most gratefull.
Behold what giues the Poet but new verses?
And thereof many thousand he rehearses.
The Poets God arayed in robes of gold,
Of his gilt Harpe the well tun'd strings doth hold.
(Trust me) to giue, it is a witty thing.
Nor, so thou maist obtaine a wealthy prize,
The vaine name of inferiour slaues dispize.
Nor let the armes of ancient liues beguile thee,
Poore louer with thy grandsires I exile thee.
Who seekes, for being faire, a night to haue,
What he will giue, with greater instance craue.
Make a small price, while thou thy nets doest lay,
Least they should fly, being tane, the tirant play.
Dissemble so, as lou'd he may be thought,
And take heed, least he gets that loue for nought,
Deny him oft; faine now thy head doth ake:
And Isis now will shew what scuse to make.
Receiue him soone, least patient vse he gaine,
Or least his loue oft beaten backe should waine.
To beggers shut, to bringers ope thy gate,
Let him within heare; bard out louers prate.
And as first wrongd the wronged sometimes banish
Thy fault with his fault so repuls'd will vanish.
But neuer giue a spatious time to ire,
Anger delaide doth oft to hate retire.
And let thine eyes constrained learne to weepe,
That this, or that man may thy cheekes moist keepe,
Nor, if thou coznest one, dread to forsweare,
Venus to mockt men lends a sencelesse eare.
Seruants fit for thy purpose thou must hire,
To teach thy louer, what thy thoughts desire.
Let them aske some-what, many asking little,
Within a while great heapes grow of a little.
And sister, Nurse, and mother spare him not,
By many hands great wealth is quickly got.
By keeping of thy birth make but a shift.
Beware least he vnriual'd loues secure,
Take strife away, loue doth not well endure.
On all the beds men tumbling let him view,
And thy neck with lasciuious marks made blew.
Chiefely shew him the gifts, which others send:
If he giues nothing, let him from thee wend.
When thou hast so much as he giues no more,
Pray him to lend what thou may'st ne're restore.
Let thy tongue flatter, while thy minde harme-workes,
Vnder sweet hony deadly poyson lurkes.
If this thou doest to me by long vse knowne,
Nor let my words be with the windes hence blowne.
Oft thou wilt say, liue well, thou wilt pray oft,
That my dead bones may in their graue lie soft.
As thus she spake, my shadow me betraide,
With much a do my hands I scarsely staide.
But let her bleare eyes, bald scalpes thine hoary flieces.
And riueld cheekes I would haue pul'd a pieces.
The gods send thee no house, a poore old age,
Perpetuall thirst, and winters lasting rage.
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