The Works of Tibullus Containing his Love-Elegies. Translated by Mr Dart. To which is added, The Life of the Author; with Observations on the Original Design of Elegiack Verse; and the Characters of the most Celebrated Greek, Latin and English Elegiack Poets |
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| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. | ELEGY IX. |
| X. |
 | II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The Works of Tibullus |  |
54
ELEGY IX.
Why if design'd by treach'rous Arts to prove
A Violater of our hapless Love,
Did you such solemn Protestations make,
And Vows, which you in Secret meant to break?
Ah, wretch! tho' first you veil a close Deceit,
A late Revenge succeeds with silent Feet.
Pardon ye Pow'rs, can it to you belong
To be profan'd, yet bear th' unpunish'd Wrong!
A Violater of our hapless Love,
Did you such solemn Protestations make,
And Vows, which you in Secret meant to break?
Ah, wretch! tho' first you veil a close Deceit,
A late Revenge succeeds with silent Feet.
Pardon ye Pow'rs, can it to you belong
To be profan'd, yet bear th' unpunish'd Wrong!
In Hopes of Gain they Oxen reconcile,
Experienc'd to the Plow, and urge the Toil;
In Hopes of Wealth the Sailor tempts the Main,
Invoking fav'ring Winds, and all for Gain:
Dares the precarious Sea devoid of Fears,
Guiding th' unstable Bark by well-known Stars:
And 'tis for Guifts my faithless Boy betrays;
Ye Gods disperse those Gifts to Flames and Seas.
Severely shall you pay this Breach of Trust,
With your admir'd Beauties soil'd in Dust;
All rufled by th' insulting wind your Hair
Your Visage Sun-burnt by the scorching Air:
Your lively Graces all on the Decay,
Fatigu'd and tir'd in the laborious Way.
Experienc'd to the Plow, and urge the Toil;
In Hopes of Wealth the Sailor tempts the Main,
Invoking fav'ring Winds, and all for Gain:
Dares the precarious Sea devoid of Fears,
Guiding th' unstable Bark by well-known Stars:
And 'tis for Guifts my faithless Boy betrays;
Ye Gods disperse those Gifts to Flames and Seas.
55
With your admir'd Beauties soil'd in Dust;
All rufled by th' insulting wind your Hair
Your Visage Sun-burnt by the scorching Air:
Your lively Graces all on the Decay,
Fatigu'd and tir'd in the laborious Way.
How oft have I advis'd you, but in vain!
Not to pollute that Form for sordid Gain.
Oft have I said that shining Gold conceals,
Beneath its tempting Luster many Ills.
If Wealth by pow'rful Skill the Youth can move
To break his Vows, and violate his Love,
He'll find, too surely find in little time,
Venus averse, and angry at his Crime.
First, e're I'll be from Honour's Paths misled,
May Flames devour this devoted Head;
The Sword its Blade within my Bosom hide,
And tort'ring Scourges tear my wounded Side.
Nor hope, unseen, to break your Word with ease,
The God forbids concealing Crimes like these.
You'll find the Man where you your Soul enlarge,
Well warm'd with Cups, divulge the secret Charge:
The God will raise his Voice in Sleep opprest,
And force th' unguarded Secrets from his Breast.
All this I said, now glowing Blushes rise,
When I reflect how with o'erflowing Eyes,
How mean, how suppliant, how much like a Slave,
With low Submission, I those Cautions gave.
'Twas then you swore your Faith should ne'er be sold,
For costly Gems, nor wealthy Heaps of Gold:
Not for the Price of rich Campania's Field,
Nor all the fair Falernian Vineyards yield.
Too cred'lous I by Vows like these deceiv'd,
Had any thing, tho' ne'er so wrong, believ'd;
Tho' you had swore, no Stars illum'd the Sky,
Or that 'twas safe to walk a-cross the Sea.
You wept, and I unpractis'd to betray,
Wip'd your wet Cheeks, and dry'd the Tears away.
What could this Treachery in your Bosom move,
Unless the Girl had link'd you to her Love?
Ah! may she, taught by you, unconstant prove.
Least any should o'er hear the Words we said,
My self by Night have light you to the Maid.
Oft through my Means you've seen the admir'd Fair,
When little you expected her so near;
Who with a seeming coy affected Mein,
Conceal'd her self, yet wish'd she might be seen.
Wretch that I am! then was I first undone,
Thinking fond Fool, your Love was mine alone,
For else I could your close Intrigues espy,
And watch your Actions with a nearer Eye.
Then in my stupid Lines I sang your Praise,
Now at my Folly blush, and curse my Lays.
May Vulcane to his Flames the Lines convey,
And Waters wash the hated Words away.
Not to pollute that Form for sordid Gain.
Oft have I said that shining Gold conceals,
Beneath its tempting Luster many Ills.
If Wealth by pow'rful Skill the Youth can move
To break his Vows, and violate his Love,
He'll find, too surely find in little time,
Venus averse, and angry at his Crime.
First, e're I'll be from Honour's Paths misled,
May Flames devour this devoted Head;
The Sword its Blade within my Bosom hide,
And tort'ring Scourges tear my wounded Side.
56
The God forbids concealing Crimes like these.
You'll find the Man where you your Soul enlarge,
Well warm'd with Cups, divulge the secret Charge:
The God will raise his Voice in Sleep opprest,
And force th' unguarded Secrets from his Breast.
All this I said, now glowing Blushes rise,
When I reflect how with o'erflowing Eyes,
How mean, how suppliant, how much like a Slave,
With low Submission, I those Cautions gave.
'Twas then you swore your Faith should ne'er be sold,
For costly Gems, nor wealthy Heaps of Gold:
Not for the Price of rich Campania's Field,
Nor all the fair Falernian Vineyards yield.
Too cred'lous I by Vows like these deceiv'd,
Had any thing, tho' ne'er so wrong, believ'd;
Tho' you had swore, no Stars illum'd the Sky,
Or that 'twas safe to walk a-cross the Sea.
57
Wip'd your wet Cheeks, and dry'd the Tears away.
What could this Treachery in your Bosom move,
Unless the Girl had link'd you to her Love?
Ah! may she, taught by you, unconstant prove.
Least any should o'er hear the Words we said,
My self by Night have light you to the Maid.
Oft through my Means you've seen the admir'd Fair,
When little you expected her so near;
Who with a seeming coy affected Mein,
Conceal'd her self, yet wish'd she might be seen.
Wretch that I am! then was I first undone,
Thinking fond Fool, your Love was mine alone,
For else I could your close Intrigues espy,
And watch your Actions with a nearer Eye.
Then in my stupid Lines I sang your Praise,
Now at my Folly blush, and curse my Lays.
May Vulcane to his Flames the Lines convey,
And Waters wash the hated Words away.
58
Hence ye detested mercenary Train,
Who sell inestimable Love for Gain.
Who sell inestimable Love for Gain.
But you, who all your tempting Wealth employ,
And strive with Presents to seduce the Boy:
May your lascivious Wife elude your Care,
And bring repleated Plots of Lust to bear;
When tir'd with all the Stallions of the Town,
To hide it, Anger feign, and lie alone.
Around your Bed may Strangers Footings be,
And may your House to ev'ry Rake be free.
And strive with Presents to seduce the Boy:
May your lascivious Wife elude your Care,
And bring repleated Plots of Lust to bear;
When tir'd with all the Stallions of the Town,
To hide it, Anger feign, and lie alone.
Around your Bed may Strangers Footings be,
And may your House to ev'ry Rake be free.
And for thy drunken Sister, may the Crowd
In railing Arguments dispute aloud;
Whether she quaffs more Bowls of Liquor down,
Or lies with more rank Bullies of the Town:
Although 'tis said she'll revel all the Night,
Till Phospher's Orb provokes the Morning's Light.
To this alone does all her Fancy tend,
She knows no other way the Night to spend:
But your experienc'd Wife with Cunning steals
Her lustful Hours, and dark Designs conceals;
While you unthinking Fool can never guess,
When she Love's Rites performs with Carlesness.
Can you suppose for you she decks her Head?
Or that for you the shining Locks are spread?
Is it alone to you she has Respect
When dress'd in Scarlet, and with Bracelets deck't!
Not for your sake those dressing Arts she tries,
But to oblige some other Fav'rite's Eyes;
To whom she prostitutes your injur'd Fame,
Her self, your House, and all that you can name;
Nor does she practise this for Letchery,
But from a strong Aversion toward thee;
She shuns thy Limbs with swelling Cout unsound,
With Ointments stinking, and in Swathings bound,
She flies the Touch of thy decaying Face,
And all the Terrors of thy foul Embrace.
Yet vile however, my Boy does this approve,
And I believe can savage Monsters love.
In railing Arguments dispute aloud;
Whether she quaffs more Bowls of Liquor down,
Or lies with more rank Bullies of the Town:
Although 'tis said she'll revel all the Night,
Till Phospher's Orb provokes the Morning's Light.
59
She knows no other way the Night to spend:
But your experienc'd Wife with Cunning steals
Her lustful Hours, and dark Designs conceals;
While you unthinking Fool can never guess,
When she Love's Rites performs with Carlesness.
Can you suppose for you she decks her Head?
Or that for you the shining Locks are spread?
Is it alone to you she has Respect
When dress'd in Scarlet, and with Bracelets deck't!
Not for your sake those dressing Arts she tries,
But to oblige some other Fav'rite's Eyes;
To whom she prostitutes your injur'd Fame,
Her self, your House, and all that you can name;
Nor does she practise this for Letchery,
But from a strong Aversion toward thee;
She shuns thy Limbs with swelling Cout unsound,
With Ointments stinking, and in Swathings bound,
She flies the Touch of thy decaying Face,
And all the Terrors of thy foul Embrace.
60
And I believe can savage Monsters love.
Durst you on others all my Love confer?
Durst you to others all my Kisses bear?
Then how you'll weep when you another see
Reign o'er that Bosom once possess'd by thee:
Then I shall please my self at thy unrest,
And on a Golden Shield these Lines imprest;
Shall hang an Off'ring in the publick View,
To well-deserving Venus justly due.
Tibullus from the treach'rous Boy set free,
Suspends this votive Tablet unto thee,
And begs, O Goddess! your indulgent Care,
And that you'll be propitious to his Pray'r.
Durst you to others all my Kisses bear?
Then how you'll weep when you another see
Reign o'er that Bosom once possess'd by thee:
Then I shall please my self at thy unrest,
And on a Golden Shield these Lines imprest;
Shall hang an Off'ring in the publick View,
To well-deserving Venus justly due.
Tibullus from the treach'rous Boy set free,
Suspends this votive Tablet unto thee,
And begs, O Goddess! your indulgent Care,
And that you'll be propitious to his Pray'r.
| The Works of Tibullus | |