The Idylliums of Theocritus :: :: University of Virginia Library

Simæthea is here introduced complaining of Delphis, who had debauched and forsaken her; she makes use of several incantations in order to regain his affection; and discovers all the variety of passions that are incident to a neglected Lover.

Where are my laurels? and my philtres where?
Quick bring them, Thestylis—the charm prepare:
This purple fillet round the cauldron strain,
That I with spells may prove my perjur'd swain:

For since he rapt my door twelve days are fled,
Nor knows he whether I'm alive or dead:
Perhaps to some new face his heart's inclin'd,
For Love has wings, and he a changeful mind.
To the Palæstra with the morn I'll go,
And see and ask him, why he shuns me so?
Meanwhile my charms shall work: O Queen of Night:
Pale Moon, assist me with refulgent light;
My imprecations I address to thee,
Great Goddess, and infernal Hecatè
Stain'd with black gore, whom ev'n gaunt mastiffs dread,
Whene'er she haunts the mansions of the dead;
Hail, horrid Hecatè, and aid me still
With Circe's power, or Perimeda's skill,
Or mad Medea's art—Restore, my charms,
My lingering Delphis to my longing Arms.

The cake's consum'd—burn, Thestylis, the rest
In flames; what frenzy has your mind possest?
Am I your scorn, that thus you disobey,
Base maid, my strict commands?—Strew salt, and say,
“Thus Delphis' bones I strew”—Restore, my charms,
The perjur'd Delphis to my longing arms.

Delphis inflames my bosom with desire;
For him I burn this laurel in the fire:
And as it fumes and crackles in the blaze,
And without ashes instantly decays,
So may the flesh of Delphis burn—My charms,
Restore the perjur'd Delphis to my arms.

As melts this waxen form, by fire defac'd,
So in Love's flames may Myndian Delphis waste:

And as this brazen wheel, though quick roll'd round,
Returns, and in its orbit still is found,
So may his love return—Restore, my charms,
The lingering Delphis to my longing arms.

I'll strew the bran: Diana's power can bow
Rough Rhadamanth, and all that's stern below.
Hark! hark! the village-dogs! the Goddess soon
Will come—the dogs terrific bay the moon—

Strike, strike the sounding brass—Restore, my charms,
Restore false Delphis to my longing arms.

Calm is the ocean, silent is the wind,
But grief's black tempest rages in my mind.
I burn for him whose perfidy betray'd
My innocence; and me, ah, thoughtless maid!
Robb'd of my richest gem—Restore, my charms,
False Delphis to my long-deluded arms.

I pour libations thrice, and thrice I pray;
O, shine, great Goddess, with auspicious ray!
Whoe'er she be, blest nymph! that now detains
My fugitive in Love's delightful chains;
Be she for ever in oblivion lost,
Like Ariadne, 'lorn on Dia's coast,
Abandon'd by false Theseus—O, my charms,
Restore the lovely Delphis to my arms.

Hippomanes, a plant Arcadia bears,
Makes the colts mad, and stimulates the mares,
O'er hills, thro' streams they rage: O, could I see
Young Delphis thus run madding after me,
And quit the fam'd Palæstra!—O, my charms!
Restore false Delphis to my longing arms.

This garment's fringe, which Delphis wont to wear,
To burn in flames I into tatters tear.
Ah, cruel Love! that my best life-blood drains
From my pale limbs, and empties all my veins,
As leeches suck young steeds—Restore, my charms,
My lingering Delphis to my longing arms.

A lizard bruis'd shall make a potent bowl,
And charm, to-morrow, his obdurate soul;

Meanwhile this potion on his threshold spill,
Where, though despis'd, my soul inhabits still;
No kindness he nor pity will repay;
Spit on the threshold, Thestylis, and say,
“Thus Delphis' bones I strew”—Restore, my charms,
The dear, deluding Delphis to my arms.

She's gone, and now, alas! I'm left alone!
But how shall I my sorrow's cause bemoan?
My ill-requited passion, how bewail?
And where begin the melancholy tale?

When fair Anaxa at Diana's fane
Her offering paid, and left the Virgin train,
Me warmly she requested, breathing love,
At Dian's feast to meet her in the grove:
Where savage beasts, in howling deserts bred,
(And with them a gaunt lioness) were led
To grace the solemn honours of the day—

Whence rose my passion, sacred Phœbe, say—
Theucarila's kind nurse, who lately died,
Begg'd I would go, and she would be my guide;
Alas! their importunity prevail'd,
And my kind stars, and better genius fail'd;

I went adorn'd in Clearista's cloaths—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence my flame arose—
Soon as where Lyco's mansion stands I came,
Delphis the lovely author of my flame
I saw with Eudamippus, from the crowd
Distinguish'd, for like helichrysus glow'd
The gold down on their chins, their bosoms far
Outshone the moon, and every splendid star;
For lately had they left the field of fame—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence arose my flame—
O, how I gaz'd! what extasies begun
To fire my soul? I sigh'd, and was undone:
The pompous show no longer could surprize,
No longer beauty sparkled in my eyes:
Home I return'd, but knew not how I came;
My head disorder'd, and my heart on flame:
Ten tedious days and nights sore sick I lay—

Whence rose my passion, sacred Phœbe, say—

Soon from my cheeks the crimson colour fled,
And my fair tresses perish'd on my head:
Forlorn I liv'd, of body quite bereft,
For bones and skin were all that I had left:
All charms I tried, to each enchantress round
I sought; alas! no remedy I found:
Time wing'd his way, but not to sooth my woes—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence my flame arose—
Till to my maid, opprest with fear and shame,
I told the secret of my growing flame;
‘Dear Thestylis, thy healing aid impart—
‘The love of Delphis has engross'd my heart.
‘He in the school of exercise delights,
‘Athletic labours, and heroic fights;
‘And oft he enters on the lists of fame—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence arose my flame—
‘Haste thither, and the hint in private give,
‘Say that I sent you—tell him where I live.’

She heard, she flew, she found the youth I sought,
And all in secret to my arms she brought.
Soon at my gate his nimble foot I heard,
Soon to my eyes his lovely form appear'd;
Ye Gods! how blest my Delphis to survey!

Whence rose my passion, sacred Phœbe, say—
Cold as the snow my freezing limbs were chill'd,
Like southern vapours from my brow distill'd
The dewy damps; faint tremors seiz'd my tongue,
And on my lips the faultering accents hung;
As when from babes imperfect accents fall,
When murmuring in their dreams they on their mothers call.
Senseless I stood, nor could my mind disclose—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence my flame arose—
My strange surprize he saw, then prest the bed,
Fix'd on the ground his eyes, and thus he said;
‘Me, dear Simætha, you have much surpast,
‘As when I ran with young Philinus last
‘I far out-stript him, though he bravely strove;
‘But you have all prevented me with love;
‘Wellcome as day your kind appointment came—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence arose my flame—

‘Yes, I had come, by all the Powers above,
‘Or, rather let me swear by mighty Love,
‘Unsent for I had come, to Venus true,
‘This night attended by a chosen few,
‘With apples to present you, and my brows
‘Adorn'd like Hercules, with poplar boughs,
‘Wove in a wreathe with purple ribands gay—

Whence rose my passion, sacred Phœbe, say—
‘Had you receiv'd me, all had then been well,
‘For I in swiftness and in form excell;
‘And should have deem'd it no ignoble bliss
‘The roses of your balmy lips to kiss:
‘Had you refus'd me, and your doors been barr'd,
‘With axe and torch I should have come prepar'd,

‘Resolv'd with force resistance to oppose—

Say, sacred Phœbe, whence my flame arose—
‘And first to Beauty's Queen my thanks are due,
‘Next, dear Simætha, I'm in debt to you,
‘Who by your maid, Love's gentle herald, prove
‘My fair deliverer from the fires of Love:
‘More raging fires than Ætna's waste my frame—

Say, sacred Phœbe, when arose my flame—
‘Love from their beds enraptur'd virgins charms,
‘And wives new-married from their husbands' arms.’
He said, (alas, what frenzy seiz'd my mind!)
Soft prest my hand, and on the couch reclin'd:
Love kindled warmth as close embrac'd we lay,
And sweetly whisper'd precious hours away.
At length, O Moon, with mutual raptures fir'd,
We both accomplish'd—what we both desir'd.
E'er since no pause of love or bliss we knew,
But wing'd with joy the feather'd minutes flew;
Till yester morning, as the radiant Sun
His steeds had harness'd, and his course begun,

Restoring fair Aurora from the main,
I heard, alas! the cause of all my pain;
Philista's mother told me, ‘she knew well
‘That Delphis lov'd, but whom she could not tell:
‘The marks are plain, he drinks his favourite toast,
‘Then hies him to the maid he values most:
‘Besides with garlands gay his house is crown'd:’
All this she told me, which too true I found.
He oft would see me twice or thrice a day,
Then left some token that he would not stay
Long from my arms; and now twelve days are past
Since my fond eyes beheld the wanderer last—
It must be so—'tis my unhappy lot
Thus to be scorn'd, neglected and forgot.
He wooes, no doubt, he wooes some happier maid—
Meanwhile I'll call Enchantment to my aid:
And should he scorn me still, a charm I know
Shall soon dispatch him to the shades below;

So strong the bowl, so deadly is the draught;
To me the secret an Assyrian taught.
Now, Cynthia, drive your coursers to the main;
Those ills I can't redress I must sustain.
Farewell, dread Moon, for I have ceas'd my spell,
And all ye Stars, that rule by night, Farewell.