 | Ouids elegies |  |
Liber tertius.
ELEGIA. 1. Deliberatio poetæ, vtrum elegos pergat scribere an potius tragœdias.
An old wood, stands vncut of long yeares space,T'is credible some good head haunts the place.
In midst thereof a stone-pau'd sacred spring,
Where round about small birdes most sweetely sing.
Here while I walke hid close in shadie groue,
To finde, what worke, my muse might moue, I stroue.
Elegia came with haires perfumed sweete,
And one, I thinke, was longer, of her feete.
A decent forme, thinne robe, a louers looke,
By her footes blemish greater grace she tooke,
Then with huge steps came violent Tragedie,
Sterne was her front, her looke on ground did lie.
Her left hand held abroad a regal scepter,
The Lydian buskin fit places kept her.
And fitst he said, when will thy loue be spent?
O Poet carelesse of thy argument.
Wyne-bibbing banquets tell thy naughtinesse,
Each crosse waies corner doth as much expresse.
Oft some points at the prophet passing by,
And this is he whom fierce loue burnes, they cry,
A laughing stock thou art to all the citty,
While without shame thou sing'st thy lewdnesse ditty.
Long hast thou loyterd, greater workes compile.
The subiect hides thy wit, mens acts resound,
This thou wilt say to be a worthy ground.
Thy muse hath played what may mild girles content,
And by those numbers is thy first youth spent,
Now giue the Roman Tragedy a name,
To fill my lawes thy wanton spirit frame,
This saied, she mou'd her buskins gaily varnisht,
And seauen time shook her head with thick locks garnisht
The other smilde, (I wot) with wanton eyes,
Erre I? or mirtele in her right hand lyes
With lofty wordes stout Tragedy (she said)
Why treadst me downe? art thou aye grauely played?
Thou dignest vnequall lines should thee rehearse,
Thou fightst against me vsing mine owne verse.
Thy lofty stile with mine I not compare,
Small doores vnfitting for large houses are.
Light am I, and with thee, my care, light loue,
Not stronger am I, then the things I moue.
Venus without me should be rusticall,
This goddesse company doth to me befall.
What gate thy stately words cannot vnlocke,
My flatt'ring speeches soone wide open knocke.
And I deserue more then thou canst in verity,
By suffering much not borne by thy seuerity.
By me Corinna learnes, cousening her guard,
To get the dore with little noyse vnbard.
And slipt from bed, cloth'd in a loose nightgown
To moue her feet vnheard in siting down,
Ah how oft on hard doores hung I engrau'd,,
From no mans reading fearing to be sau'd.
The maide to hide me in her bosome let not.
What gift with me was on her birth day sent,
But cruelly by her was drown'd and rent.
First of thy minde the happy seedes I knew,
Thou hast my gift, which she would from thee sue.
She left; I say'd, you both I must beseech,
To empty aire may go my fearfull speech.
With scepters, & high buskins th' one would dresse me,
So through the world should bright renowne expresse me.
The other giues my loue a conquering name,
Come therefore, and to long verse shorter frame.
Grant Tragedy thy Poet times least title,
Thy labour euer lasts, she askes but little.
She gaue me leaue, soft loues in time make hast.
Some greater worke will vrge me on at last.
ELEGIA. 2. Ad amicam cursum equorum spectantem.
I sit not here the noble horse to see,Yet whom thou fauourst, pray may conquerour be.
To sit, and talke with thee I hether came,
That thou mayst know with loue thou mak'st me flame.
Thou view'st the course, I thee: let either heede,
What please them, and their eyes let either feede.
What horse-driuer thou fauourst most is best,
Because on him thy care doth hap to rest.
Such chance let me haue: I would brauely runne,
On swift steedes mounted till the race were done.
Now would I slacke the reines, now lash her hide,
With wheles bent inward now the ring-turne ride.
And from my hands the reines will slip away.
Ah Pelpos from his coach was almost feld,
Hippodameias lookes while he beheld.
Yet he attain'd by her support to haue her,
Let vs all conquer by our mistris fauour.
In vaine why flyest backe? force conioyns vs now:
The places lawes this benifit alow,
But spare my wench thou at her right hand seated,
By thy sides touching ill she is intreated.
And sit thou rounder, that behind vs see,
For shame presse not her backe with thy hard knee.
But on the ground thy cloaths too loosely lye,
Gat her them vp, or lift them loe will I.
Enuious garments so good legges to hide,
The more thou look'st, the more the gowne enuide.
Swift Atalantas flying legges like these,
Wish in his hands graspt did Hippomines.
Coate-tuckt Dianas legges are painted like them,
When strong wild beasts, she stronger hunts to strike thē,
Ere these were seene, I burnt: what will these do?,
Flames into flame, flouds thou powerst seas into.
By these I iudge, delight me may the rest,
Which lie hid vnder her thinne veile supprest.
Yet in the meane time wilt small windes bestow,
That from thy fanne, mou'd by my hand may blow,
Or if my heate, of minde, not of the skie?
I'st woemens loue my captiue brest doth frie?
While thus I speake, blacke dust her white robes ray:
Foule dust, from her faire body go away.
Now comes the pompe; themselues let all men cheere:
The shout is nigh; the golden pompe comes heere.
Goddesse come heere, make my loue conquering.
Applaud you Neptune, that dare trust his waue,
The sea I vse not: me my earth must haue.
Souldier applaud thy Mars, no warrs we mone,
Peace pleaseth me, and in mid peace is lone.
With Augures Phæbus, Phæbe with hunters standes.
To thee Minerua turne the crafts-mens hands.
Ceres and Bacchus Country-men adore,
Champions pleace Pollux, Castor loues horsemen more.
Thee gentle Venus, and the boy that flies,
We praise, great goddesse ayde my enterprize.
Let my new mistris graunt to be beloued,
She beckt, and prosperous signes gaue as she moued.
What Venus promis'd, promise thou we pray
Greater then her, by her leaue th'art, Ile say.
The Gods, and their rich pompe witnesse with me,
For euermore thou shalt my mistres be.
Thy legges hang-downe, thou maiest, if that be best,
Or while thy tiptoes on the foot-stoole rest.
Now greatest spectacles the Prætor sends,
Fower-chariot-horses from the lists euen ends,
I see whom thou affectest: he shall subdue,
The horses seeme, as they desire thy knewe.
Alas he runnes too farre about the ring,
What doest? thy wagon in lesse compasse bring.
What dost vnhappy? her good wishes fade,
Let with strong hand the reine to bend be made.
One slowe we fauour, Romans him reuoke:
And each giue signes by casting vp his cloake.
They call him backe, least their gownes tosse thy haire,
To hide thee in my bosome strait repaire.
And forth the gay troupes on swift horses flie.
At last now conquer, and out-runne the rest:
My mistris wish confirme with my request.
My mistris hath her wish, my wish remaine:
He holds the palme: my palme is yet to gaine.
She smilde, and with quicke eyes behight some grace:
Pay it not heere, but in an other place.
ELEGIA. 13. De amica, quæ periurauerat.
VVhat are there Gods? her selfe she hath forswore,And yet remaines the face she had before.
How long her lockes were ere her oath she tooke:
So long they be, since she her faith forsooke.
Faire white with rose red was before commixt:
Now shine her lookes pure white and red betwixt.
Her foote was small: her footes forme is most fit:
Comely tall was she, comely tall shee's yet.
Sharpe eyes she had: radiant like starrs they be,
By which she periurd oft hath lyed by me.
Insooth th' eternall powers grant maides society,
Falsely to sware, their beauty hath some diety.
By her eyes I remember late she swore,
And by mine eyes, and mine were pained sore.
Say Gods: if she vnpunisht you deceiue,
For others faults why do I losse receiue.
But did you not so enuy Cepheus daughter,
For her ill-beautious mother iudg'd to slaughter.
T'is not enough, she shakes your record off,
And vnreueng'd mockt Gods with me doth scoffe.
Couzend, I am the couzeners sacrifice.
God is a name, no substance, fear'd in vaine,
And doth the world in fond beliefe deteine.
Or if there be a God, he loues fine wenches,
And all thinges too much in their sole power drenches.
Mars girts his deadly sword on for my harme,
Pallas launce strikes me with vnconquerd arme.
At me Apollo bends his pliant bow,
At me Ioues right-hand lightning hath to throw.
The wronged Gods dread faire ones to offend,
And feare those, that to feare them least intend.
VVho now will care the Altars to persume?
Tut, men should not their courage so consume.
Ioue throwes downe woods, and Castles with his fire,
But bids his darts from periur'd girles retire.
Poore Semele among so many burned.
Her owne request to her owne torment turn'd.
But when her louer came, had she drawne back,
The fathers thigh should vnborne Bacchus lack.
VVhy grieue I? and of heauen reproches pen?
The Gods haue eyes, and breasts as well as men.
VVere I a God, I should giue women leaue,
VVith lying lips my God-head to deceaue.
My selfe would sweare the wenches true did sheare,
And I would be none of the Gods seuere.
But yet their gift more moderately vse,
Or in mine eyes good wench no paine transfuse,
ELEGIA. 4. Ad virum seruantem coniugem.
Rvde man, 'tis vaine, thy damsell to commend,To keepers trust: their wits should them defend.
Who, without feare, is chast: is chast in sooth:
Who, because meanes want, doeth not she doth.
Though thou her body guard, her minde is staind,
Nor, least she will, can any be restrainde.
Nor canst by watching keepe her minde from sinne,
All being shut out, th'adulterer is within.
Who may offend, sinnes least; power to do ill,
The fainting seedes of naughtinesse doth kill.
Forbeare to kindle vice by prohibition,
Sooner shall kindnesse gaine thy wills fruition.
I saw a horse against the bitte stiffe-neckt,
Like lightning go, his strugling mouth being checkt.
When he perceiu'd the raines let slack, he stayd,
And on his loose mane the loose bridle laid.
How to attaine, what is denyed, we thinke,
Euen as the sick desire forbidden drinke.
Argus had either way an hundred eyes.
Yet by deceit loue did them all surprize,
In stone, and yron walles Danae shut,
Came forth a mother, though a maide there put.
Penelope, though no watch look'd vnto her,
Was not defil'd by any gallant wooer.
What's kept, we couet more: the care makes theft,
Few loue, what others haue vnguarded left.
Nor doth her face please, but her husbands loue;
I know not, what men thinke should thee so moue.
Thy feare, is then her body, valued more.
Although thou chafe, stolne pleasure is sweet play,
She pleaseth best, I feare, if any say.
A free-borne wench, no right 'tis vp to lock,
So vse we women of strange nations stock.
Because the keeper may come say, I did it,
She must be honest to thy seruants credit.
He is too clownish, whom a lewd wife grieues,
And this townes well knowne custome not beleeues.
Where Mars his sonnes not without fault did breed,
Romus and Romulus, Ilias twine-borne seed.
Cannot a faire one, if not chast, please thee?
Neuer can these by any meanes agree.
Kindly thy mistresse vse, if thou be wise,
Looke gently, and rough husbands lawes despise.
Honour what friends, thy wife giues, sheele giue many,
Least labour thou shalt winne great grace of any,
So shalt thou go with youths to feasts together,
And see at home much, that thou nere brought'st thither.
ELEGIA. 5. Ad amnem dum iter faceret ad amicam.
Floud with red-growne slime bankes, till I be past,Thy waters stay: I to my mistresse hast.
Thou hast no bridge, nor boate with roapes to throw,
That may transport me without oares to row.
Thee I haue pass'd, and knew thy streame none such,
When thy waues brim did scarse my ankles touch.
With snow thaw'd from the next hill now thou rushest,
And in thy fowle deepe waters thick thou rushest.
What day and night to trauaile in her quest?
If standing here I can by no meanes get,
My foote vpon the further banke to set.
Now wish I those wings noble Perseus had,
Bearing the head with dreadfull arrowes clad,
Now wish the chariot, whence corne fields were found,
First to be throwne vpon the vntill'd ground,
I speake old Poets wonderfull inuentions,
Nere was, nor shall be, what my verse mentions.
Rather thou large banke ouer-flowing riuer,
Slide in thy bounds, so shalt thou runne for euer.
(Trust me) land-streame thou shalt no enuie lack,
If I a louer be by thee held back.
Great flouds ought to assist young men in loue,
Great flouds the force of it do often proue.
In mid Bithyma 'tis said Inachus,
Grew pale, and in cold foords not lecherous.
Troy had not yet bene ten yeares siege out-stander,
When nimph-Neæra rapt thy lookes Scamander.
What? not Alpheus in strange lands to runne,
Th' Arcadian Virgins constant loue hath wonne?
And Crusa vnto Zanthas first asside,
They say Peneus neere Phithias towne did hide.
What should I name Æsope, that Thebe lou'd,
Thebe who mother of fiue daughters prou'd.
If Achelous, I aske where thy hornes stand,
Thou sayest broke with Alcides angry hand.
Not Calydon, nor Ætolia did please,
One Deianira was more worth then these.
Rich Nile by seuen mouthes to the west sea flowing,
Who so well keepes his waters head from knowing.
As his deep whirle-pooles could not quench the same.
Dry Empeus, Tyro to embrace,
Fly back his shame charg'd, the streame charg'd, gaue place.
Nor passe I thee, who hollow rocks downe tumbling,
In Tiburs field with watry some art rumbling.
Whom Ilia pleas'd, though in her lookes griefe reueld,
Her cheekes were scratcht, her goodly haires discheueld.
She wailing Mars sinne, and her vncles crime,
Strayd bare-foote through sole places on a time.
Her, from his swift waues, the bold floud perceau'd,
And from the mid foord his hoarse voyce vpheau'd,
Saying why sadly tread'st my bankes vpon,
Ilia, sprung from Idæan Laomedon?
Where's thy attire? why wand'rest heere alone?
To stay thy tresses white veyle hast thou none?
Why weep'st? and spoil'st with teares thy watry eyes?
And fiercely knock'st thy brest that open lyes?
His heart consists of flint, and hardest steele,
That seeing thy teares can any ioy then feele.
Feare not: to thee our Court stands open wide,
There shalt be lou'd: Ilia lay feare aside.
Thou ore a hundreth Nimphes, or more shalt raigne,
For fiue score Nimpher, or more our flouds conteine.
Not Romane stock scorne me so much (I craue,)
Gifts then my promise greater thou shalt haue.
This said he: she her modest eyes held downe,
Her wofull bosome a warme shower did drowne.
Thrice she prepar'd to flie, thrice she did stay,
By seare depriu'd of strength to runne away.
Yet rending with enraged thumbe her tresses,
Her trembling mouth these vnmeet soundes expresses.
My bones had bene, while yet I was a maide,
Why being a vestall am I wooed to wed,
Deflowr'd and stained in vnlawfull bed.
Why stay I? men point at me for a whore,
Shame, that should make me blush, I haue no more.
This said: her coate, hood-winckt her fearefull eyes,
And into water desperately she flies.
T'is said the slippery streame held vp her brest,
And kindly gaue her, what she liked best.
And I beleeue some wench thou hast affected,
But woods and groues keepe your faults vndetected.
While thus I speake, the waters more abounded,
And from the channell all abroad surrounded.
Mad streame, why doest our mutuall ioyes deferre?
Clowne, from my iourney why doest me deterre?
How wouldst thou flow wert thou a noble floud?
If thy great fame in euery region stood.
Thou hast no name, but com'st from snowy mountaines,
No certaine house thou hast, nor any fountaines,
Thy springs are nought but raine aud melted snow,
Which wealth, cold winter doth on thee bestow.
Either th'art muddy in mid winter tide,
Or full of dust doest on the dry earth slide.
What thirsty traueller euer drunke of thee?
Who sayd with gratefull voyce perpetuall be?
Harmefull to beasts, and to the fields thou proues,
Perchance these, others me mine owne losse mooues.
To this I fondly loues of flouds told plainely,
I shame so great names to haue vs'd so vainly.
I know not what expecting, I ere while,
Nam'd Achelaus, Inachus, and Ile,
Dry winters aye, and sunnes in heate extreame.
ELEGIA. 6. Quod ah amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit, conqueritur.
Either she was foule, or her attire was bad,Or she was not the wench I wish t'haue had.
Idly I lay with her, as if I lou'd not,
And like a burthen grieu'd the bed that mou'd not.
Though both of vs perform'd our true intent,
Yet could I not cast anchor where I meant.
She on my neck her Iuory armes did throw,
Her armes faire wither, then the Sythian snow.
And eagerly she kist me with her tongue,
And vnder mine her wanton thigh she flung.
Yea, and she sooth'd me vp, and call'd me fire,
And vs'd all speach that might prouoke and stirre.
Yet like as if cold Hemlock I had drunke,
It mocked me, hung downe the head and sunke.
Like a dull Cipher, or rude block I lay,
Or shade, or body was I who can say?
What will my age do? age I cannot shunne,
When in my prime my force is spent and done.
I blush, that being youthfull, hot, and lustie,
I proue neither youth nor man, but old and rustie.
Pure rose she, like a Nunne to sacrifice,
Or one that with her tender brother lyes.
Yet boorded I the golden Chie twise,
And Libas, and the white cheekt Pitho thrice.
Corrina crau'd it in a summers night.
What wast my limbs through some Thessalian charmes?
May spells, and drugges do silly soules such harmes?
With virgin waxe hath some imbast my ioynts?
And pierc'd my liuer with sharp needlesse points?
Charmes change corne to grasse and make it die,
By charmes are running springs and fountaines dry.
By charmes mast drops from oakes, from vines grapes fall,
And fruite from trees when ther's no winde at all.
Why might not then my sinewes be inchaunted?
And I grow faint as with some spirit haunted.
To this add shame: shame to performe it quaild me,
And was the second cause why vigour failde me.
My idle thoughts delighted her no more,
Then did the robe or garment which she wore.
Yet might her touch make youthfull Pylius fire,
And Tython liuelier then his yeares require.
Euen her I had, and she had me in vaine,
What might I craue more, if I aske agaiie?
I thinke the great gods grieu'd they had bestow'd,
The benefite: which lewdly I fore-slow'd.
I wisht to be receiued in, in I get me,
To kisse, I kisse: to lie with her she let me.
Why was I blest? why made King to refuse it?
Chuffe-like had I not gold and could not vse it?
So in a spring thriues he that told so much,
And lookes vpon the fruites he cannot touch.
Hath any rose so from a fresh yong maide,
As she might straight haue gone to Church and praide.
Well I beleeue, she kist not as she should,
Nor vs'd the sleight and cunning which she could.
Huge oakes, hard adamants might she haue moued,
Worthy she was to moue both gods and men,
But neither was I man nor liued then.
Can deafe eare take delight when Phæmius sings?
Or Thamiris in curious painted things.
What sweet thought is there but I had the same?
And one gaue place still as an other came.
Yet not-withstanding like one dead I lay,
Drouping more like a rofe puld yester-day.
Now when he should not iette, he boults vpright,
And craues his taske, and seekes to be at fight.
Lie downe with shame and see thou stire no more,
Seeing thou wouldst deceiue me as before.
Thou cosonest me: by thee surpriz'd am I,
And bide sore losse with endlesse infamy.
Nay more the wench did not disdaine a whit,
To take it in hand, and play with it.
But when she saw it would by no meanes stand,
But stil droupt downe, regarding not her hand.
Why mockst thou me she cryed? or being ill
Who bad thee lie downe heere against thy will?
Either th' art witcht with bloud of frogs new dead,
Or iaded camst thou from some others bed.
With her loose gowne on from me she cast her,
In skiping out her naked feete much grac'd her.
And least her maide should know of this disgrace,
To couer it, spilt water in the place.
ELEGIA. 7. Quod ab amica non recipiatur, dolet.
VVhat man will now take liberall arts in hand,Or thinke soft verse in any stead to stand.
Now pouerty great barbarisme we hold.
When our bookes did my mistris faire content,
I might not go, whether my papers went.
She prais'd me, yet the gate shut fast vpon her,
I heere and there go witty with dishonour.
Se a rich chuffe whose wounds great wealth inferd,
For blodshed knighted before me prefer'd.
Foole cāst thou him in thy whit armes embrace
Foole canst thou lie in his enfoulding space?
Know'st not this head a helm was wont to beare
This side that serues thee, a sharpe sword did weare
His left hand wheron gold doth ill alight
A target bore; bloud sprinckled was his right.
Canst touch that hād wherwith sōe one lie dead?
Ah whether is thy breasts soft nature fled?
Behould the signes of antient fight his skarres,
What ere he hath his body gaind in warres.
Perhaps hee'le tell how oft he slew a man,
Confessing this, why do'st thou touch him than?
I the pure preist of Phæbus and the muses,
At thy deafe dores in verse sing my abuses.
Not what we slothfull knew, let wise men learne
But follow trembling camps, and battails sterne.
And for a good verse draw the first dart forth,
Homer without this shall be nothing worth.
Ioue being admōisht gold had soueraigne power
To winne the maide came in a golden shewer.
Till then, rough was her father, she seuere,
The posts of brasse the walls of iron were,
But when in gifts the wise adulteres came,
She held her lap ope to receiue the same.
All gaine in darknesse the deepe earth supprest.
Gold, siluer, irons heauey weight, and brasse,
In hell were harbourd, here was found no masse.
But better things it gaue, corne without ploughes,
Apples, and hony in oakes hollow boughes.
With strong plough shares no man the earth did cleaue
The ditcher no markes on the ground did leaue.
Nor hanging oares the troubled seas did sweepe,
Men kept the shoare, and saild not into deepe.
Against thy selfe, mans nature, thou wert cunning,
And to thine owne losse was thy wit swift running.
Why gird'st thy citties with a towred wall,
Why letst discordant hands to armour fall?
What doest with seas? with th' earth thou wert content,
Why seek'st not heau'n the third realme to frequent?
Heauen thou affects, with Romulus, temples braue,
Bacchus, Alcides, and now Cæsar haue.
Gold from the earth instead of fruits we pluck,
Souldiers by bloud to be inricht haue lucke.
Courts shut the poore out: wealth giues estimation,
Thence growes the Iudge, and knight of reputation.
All, thee possesse: they gouerne fields, and lawes,
They manadge peace, and raw warrs bloudy iawes.
Onely our loues let not such rich churles gaine,
Tis well, if some wench for the poore remaine,
Now, Sabine-like, though chast she seemes to liue,
One she commands, who many things can giue.
For me, she doth keeper, and husband feare,
If I should giue' both would the house forbeare.
If of scornd louers god be venger iust,
O let him change goods so ill got to dust.
ELEGIA. 8. Tibulli mortem deflet.
If Thetis, and the morne their sonnes did waile,And enuious fates great goddesses assaile.
Sad Eeliga thy wofull haires vnbinde:
Ah now a name too true thou hast, I finde.
Tibullus, thy works Poet, and thy fame,
Burnes his dead body in the funerall flame.
Loe Cupid brings his quiuer spoyled quite,
His broken bowe his fire-brand without light.
How pitteously with drouping wings he stands,
And knocks his bare brest with selfe-angry hands,
The locks spred on his necke receiue his teares,
And shakeing sobbes his mouth for speaches beares.
So at Æneas buriall men report,
Faire-fac'd Iulius he went forth thy court.
And Venus greiues, Tiqullus life being spent,
As whē the wild bore Adonus groine had rent.
The Gods care we are cald, and men of piety,
And some there be that thinke we haue a diety.
Outragious death profanes all holy things,
And one all creatures obscure darkenesse brings.
To Thracean Orpheus what did parents good,
Or songs amazing wild beasts of the wood.
Where Linus by his father Phæbus layed,
To sing with his vequall harpe is sayed.
See Homer from whose fountaine euer fild,
Pierian deawe to Poets is distild.
Him the last day in blacke Auern hath drownd,
[illeg.] alone are with continuance crown'd.
And that slowe webbe nights fal-shood did vnframe.
So Nemesis, so Delia famous are,
The one his first loue, th' other his new care.
What proffit to vs hath our pure life bred?
What to haue layne alone in empty bed?
When bad fates take good men, I am forbod,
By secret thoughts to thinke there is a god.
Liue godly thou shalt die though honor heauen
Yet shall thy life be forcibly bereauen.
Trust in good verse, Tibullus feeles deaths paines,
Scarse rests of all what a small vrne containes,
Thee sacred Poet could sad flames destroy?
Nor feared they thy body to annoy?
The holy gods gilt temples they might fire,
That durst to so great wickednesse aspire.
Eryx bright Empresse turnd her lookes aside,
And some, that she refrain'd teares, haue deni'd.
Yet better i'st, then if Corcyras Ile,
Had thee vnknowne interr'd in ground most vile.
Thy dying eyes heere did thy mother close,
Nor did thy ashes her last offerings lose.
Part of her sorrow heere thy sister bearing.
Comes forth her vnkeembe locks a sunder tearing.
Nemesis and thy first wench ioyne their kisses,
With thine, nor this last fire their presence misses.
Delia departing happier lou'd she faith,
Was I: thou liu'dst, while thou esteemdst my faith.
Nemesis answers, what's my losse to thee?
His fainting hand in death engarsped me.
If ought remaines of vs but name, and spirit,
Tibullus doth Elysiums ioy inherit.
With Caluus learn'd Catullus comes and greete him.
And thou, if falsely charged to wrong thy friend,
Gallus that car'st not blood, and life to spend.
VVith these thy soule walkes, soules if death release,
The godly, sweet Tibullus doth increase.
Thy bones I pray may in the vrne safe rest,
And may th'earths weight thy ashes nought molest.
ELEGIA. 9. Ad Cererem, conquerens quod eius sacris cum amica concumbere non permittatur.
Come were the times of Ceres sacrifice,In emptie bed alone my mistresse lies.
Golden hair'd Ceres crown'd with eares of corne,
VVhy are our pleasures by thy meanes forborne?
Thee, goddesse, bountifull all nations iudge,
Nor lesse at mans prosperity any grudge.
Rude husband-men bak'd not their corne before,
Nor on the earth was knowne the name of floore.
On mast of oakes, first oracles, men fed,
This was their meate, the soft grasse was their bed.
First Ceres taught the seede in fields to swell,
And ripe-earde corne with sharp-edg-d sithes to fell.
She first constrain'd bulles necks to beare the yoke,
And vntil'd ground with crooked plough-shares broke.
VVho thinkes her to be glad at louers smart,
And worshipt by their paine, and lying apart?
Nor is she, though she loues the fertile fields,
A clowne, nor no loue from her warme brest yeelds;
Be witnesse Crete (nor Crete doth all things feigne)
There, he who rules the worlds starre-spangled towers,
A little boy drunke teate-distilling showers.
Faith to the witnesse Ioues praise doth apply,
Ceres, I thinke, no knowne fault will deny.
The goddesse saw Iasion on Candian Ide,
With strong hand striking wild-beasts brist'led hyde.
She saw, and as her marrow tooke the flame,
Was diuers wayes distract with loue and shame.
Loue conquer'd shame, the furrowes dry were burn'd,
And corne with least part of it selfe return'd.
When well-toss'd mattocks did the ground prepare,
Being fit broken with the crooked share.
And seedes were equally in large fields cast,
The plough-mans hopes were frustrate at the last.
The graine-rich goddesse in high woods did stray,
Her long haires eare-wrought garland fell away.
Onely was Crete fruitefull that plenteous yeare,
Where Ceres went each place was haruest there.
Ida the seate of groues did sing with corne,
VVhich by the wild boare in the woods was shorne.
Law-giuing Minos did such yeares desire,
And wisht the goddesse long might feele loues fire.
Ceres what sports to thee so grieuous were,
As in thy sacrifice we them forbeare?
VVhy am I sad, when Proserpine is found,
And Iuno like with Dis raignes vnder ground?
Festiuall dayes aske Venus, songs, and wine,
These gifts are meete to please the powers diuine.
ELEGIA. 10. Ad amicam, acuius amore discedere non potest.
Long haue I borne much, mad thy faults me make,Dishonest loue my wearied brest forsake.
Now haue I freed my selfe, and fled the chaine,
And what I haue borne, shame to beare againe.
VVe vanquish, and tread tam'd loue vnder feete,
Victorious wreathes at length my Temples greete.
Suffer, and harden: good growes by this griefe,
Oft bitter iuyce brings to the sick reliefe.
I haue sustain'd so oft thrust from the doore,
To lay my body on the hard moist floore.
I know not whom thou lewdlie did'st imbrace,
VVhen I to watch supplyed a seruants place.
I saw when forth a tyred louer went,
His side past seruice, and his courage spent.
Yet this is lesse, then if he had seene me,
May that shame fall mine enimies chaunce to be.
When haue not I fixt to thy side close layed?
I haue thy husband, guard, and fellow played.
The people by my company she pleas'd,
My loue was cause that more mens loue she seaz'd.
VVhat should I tell her vaine tongues filthy lyes,
And to my losse God-wronging periuries?
VVhat secret beeks in banquets with her youths,
VVith priuy signes, and talke dissembling truths?
Hearing her to be sick, I thither ranne,
But with my riuall sick she was not than,
These hardned me, with what I keepe obscure,
Some other seeke, who will these things endure.
With ioy heares Neptunes swelling waters sound.
Leaue thy once powerfull words, and flatteries,
I am not as I was before, vnwise.
Now loue and hate my light brest each way moue,
But victory, I thinke will hap to loue.
Ile hate, if I can; if not, loue gainst my will,
Bulles hate the yoake, yet what they hate haue still.
I flie her lust, but follow beauties creature,
I loath her manners, loue her bodies feature.
Nor with thee, nor without thee can I liue,
And doubt to which desire the palme to giue.
Or lesse faire; or lesse lewd would thou might'st be,
Beauty with lewdnesse doth right ill agree.
Her deeds gaine hate, her face entreateth loue,
Ah, she doth more worth then her vices proue.
Spare me, O by our fellow bed, by all,
The Gods who by thee to be periurde fall.
And by thy face to me a powre diuine,
And by thine eyes whose radiance burnes out mine.
What ere thou art mine art thou: choose this course,
Wilt haue me willing, or to loue by force.
Rather Ile hoist vp saile, and vse the winde,
That I may loue yet, though against my minde.
ELEGIA. 11. Dolet amicam suam ita suis carminibus innotuissæ vt riuales multos sibi pararit.
VVhat day was that, which all sad haps to bring,White birds to louers did not alwayes sing.
Or is I thinke my wish against the starre?
Who mine was cal'd, whom I lou'd more then any,
I feare with me is common now to many.
Erre I? or by my lookes is she so knowne?
Tis so: by my wit her abuse is growne.
And iustly: for her praise why did I tell?
The wench by my fault is set forth to sell.
The bawde I play, louers to her I guide:
Her gate by my hands is set open wide.
'Tis doubtfull whether verse auaile, or harme,
Against my good they were an enuious charme.
When Thebes, when Troy, when Cæsar should be writ,
Alone Corinna moues my wanton wit.
With Muse oppos'd would I my lines had done,
And Phœbus had forsooke my worke begun.
Nor, as vse will not Poets record heare,
Would I my words would any credit beare.
Scylla by vs her fathers rich haire steales,
And Scyllaes wombe mad raging dogs conceales.
Wee cause feete fly, wee mingle haires with snakes,
Victorious Perseus a wing'd steedes back takes.
Our verse great Tityus a huge space out-spreads,
And giues the viper curled Dogge three heads.
We make Enceladus vse a thousand armes,
And men inthral'd by Mermaids singing charmes.
The East winds in Vlisses baggs we shut,
And babbing Tantalus in mid-waters put.
Niobe flint, Callist we make a Beare,
Bird-changed Progne doth her Itys teare.
Ioue turnes himselfe into a Swanne, or gold,
Or his Bulles hornes Europas hand doth hold.
Proteus what should I name? teeth, Thebes first seed?
Heau'n starre Electra that bewail'd her sisters?
The ships, whose Godhead in the sea now glisters?
The Sunne turn'd back from Atreus cursed table?
And sweet toucht harp that to moue stones was able?
Poets large power is boundlesse, and immense,
Nor haue their words true histories pretence,
And my wench ought to haue seem'd falsely prais'd,
Now your credulity harme to me hath rais'd.
ELEGIA. 12. De Iunonis festo.
VVhen fruite fil'd Tuscia should a wife giue me,We toucht the walles, Camillus wonne by thee.
The Priests to Iuno did prepare chast feasts,
With famous pageants, and their home-bred beasts.
To know their rites, well recompenc'd my stay,
Though thether leades a rough steepe hilly way.
There stands an old wood with thick trees dark clouded,
Who sees it, graunts some deity there is shrowded.
An Altar takes mens incense and oblation,
An Altar made after the ancient fashion.
Here when the Pipe with solemne tunes doth sound,
The annuall pompe goes on the couered ground.
White Heifers by glad people forth are led,
Which with the grasse of Tuscane fields are fed.
And calues from whose fear'd front no threatning flies,
And little Piggs base Hog-sties sacrifice,
And Rams with hornes their hard heads wreathed back,
Onely the Goddesse hated Goate did lack.
By whom disclos'd, she in the high woods tooke,
Now is the goat brought through the boyes with darts,
And giue to him that the first wound imparts.
Where Iuno comes each youth, and pretty maide,
Shew large wayes with their garments there displayed.
Iewels, and gold their Virgin tresses crowne.
And stately robes to their gilt feete hang downe.
As is the vse, the Nunnes in white veyles clad,
Vpon their heads the holy misteries had.
When the chiefe pompe comes, lowde the people hollow
And she her vestall virgin Priests doth follow.
Such was the Greeke pompe, Agamemnon dead,
Which fact, and countrie wealth Halesus fled.
And hauing wandred now through sea and land,
Built walles high towred with a prosperous hand.
He to th'Hetrurians, Iunoes feast commended,
Let me, and them by it be aye be-friended.
ELEGIA. 13 Ad amicam, si peccatura est, vt occultè peccet.
Seeing thou art faire, I barre not thy selfe playing,But let not me poore soule know of thy straying.
Nor doe I giue thee counsell to liue chast,
But that thou would'st dissemble, when 'tis past.
She hath not tred awry, that doth deny it.
Such as confesse haue lost their good names by it.
What madnesse ist to tell nights pranckes by day?
And hidden secrets openly to bewray?
The strumpet with the stranger will not doo.
Before the roome be cleere, and doore put too.
VVill you make ship-wrack of your honest name?
Be more aduis'd, walke as a puritan,
And I shall thinke you chaste, do what you can.
Slip still onely deny it, when 'tis done,
And before folke immodest speeches shunne.
The bed is for lasciuious toyings meete,
There vse all tricks, and tread shame vnder feete.
VVhen you are vp, and drest, be sage and graue,
And in the bed hide all the faults you haue.
Be not asham'd to strip you being there,
And mingle thighes yours euer mine to beare.
There in your Rosie lips my tongue in-tombe,
Practise a thousand sports when there you come.
Forbeare no wanton words you there would speake,
And with your pastime let the bed-stead creake.
But with your robes put on an honest face,
And blush, and seeme as you were full of grace.
Deceiue all, let me erre, and thinke I am right,
And like a Wittall thinke thee voide of slight.
VVhy see I lines so oft receiu'd, and giuen?
This bed and that by tumbling made vneuen?
Like one start vp your haire tost and displac'd,
And with a wantons tooth your neck new rac'd.
Graunt this, that what you do I may not see,
If you weigh not ill speeches, yet weigh mee.
My soule fleetes, when I thinke what you haue done,
And thorough euery veine doth cold blood runne.
Then thee whom I must loue, I hate in vaine,
And would be dead, but dead with thee remaine.
Ile not sift much, but hold thee soone excus'd,
Say but thou wert iniuriously accus'd.
Though while the deed be doing you be tooke.
Sweare I was blinde, deny if you be wise,
And I will trust your words more then mine eyes,
From him that yeelds the palme is quickly got,
Teach but your tongue to say, I did it not,
And being iustifi'd by two words thinke,
The cause acquit's you not, but I that winke.
ELEGIA. 14. Ad venerem, quod elegis finem imponat.
Tender loues Mother a new Poet get,This last end to my Elegies is set.
Which I Pelignis foster-childe haue fram'd.
(Nor am I by such wanton toyes defam'd)
Heire of an ancient house, if help that can,
Not onely by warres rage made Gentleman.
In Virgil Mantua ioyes: in Catul Verone,
Of me Pelignis nation boasts alone,
Whom liberty to honest armes compeld,
When carefull Rome in doubt their prowesse held.
And some guest viewing watry Sulmoes walles,
Where little ground to be inclos'd befalles.
How such a Poet could you bring forth, sayes,
How small so ere, I'le you for greatest praise.
Both loues to whom my heart long time did yeeld,
Your golden ensignes pluckt out of my field,
Horned Bacchus grauer furie doth distill,
A greater ground with great horse is to till.
Weake Elegies, delightfull Muse farewell;
A worke, that after my death, heere shall dwell.
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