---
title: "Amores"
author: "Ovid"
translator: "Perseus Digital Library"
languages: [la, en]
shelf: "Classical Latin"
section: 1 of 6
url: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-amores/1/
cite: "Ovid, tr. Perseus Digital Library, Amores, section 1. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-amores/1/"
---

# Amores

*Ovid, tr. Perseus Digital Library*

Love elegies for Corinna: jealousy, doors that will not open, and Cupid’s arrows.

> Latin: ed. Rudolf Ehwald, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-latinLit, phi0959.phi001, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: Perseus Digital Library, from the Perseus Digital Library (phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (books, chapters and sections), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 1. Book I · poems 1–9

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-amores/1/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-amores/1/#p-N

[¶0] The epigram is not here translated.
For mighty wars I thought to tune my lute,
And make my measures to my subject suit.
Six feet for ev'ry verse the muse design'd,
But Cupid laughing, when he saw my mind,
From ev'ry second verse a foot purloin'd.
"Who gave thee, boy, this arbitrary sway,
On subjects, not thy own, commands to lay,
Who Phoebus only, and his laws obey?
'Tis more absurd, than if the queen of love
Should in Minerva's arms to battle move;
Or manly Pallas from that queen should take
Her torch, and o'er the dying lover shake.
In fields as well may Cynthia sow the corn,
Or Ceres wind in woods the bugle-horn;
As well may Phoebus quit the trembling string,
For sword and shield; and Mars may learn to sing.
Already thy dominions are too large;
Be not ambitious of a foreign charge.
If thou wilt reign o'er all, and ev'ry where,
The god of music for his harp may fear.
Thus when with soaring wings I seek renown,
Thou pluck'st my pinions, and I flutter down.
Could I on such mean thoughts my muse employ,
I want a mistress, or a blooming boy."
Thus I complain'd; his bow the stripling bent,
And chose an arrow fit for his intent.
The shaft his purpose fatally pursues;
" Now, poet, there's a subject for thy muse,"
He said: (too well, alas, he knows his trade,)
For in my breast a mortal wound he made.
Far hence ye proud Hexameters remove,
My verse is pac'd, and tramell'd into love.
With myrtle wreaths my thoughtful brows enclose,
While in unequal verse I sing my woes.

> Latin: Qui modo Nasonis fueramus quinque libelli,
Tres sumus; hoc illi praetulit auctor opus.
Ut iam nulla tibi nos sit legisse voluptas,
At levior demptis poena duobus erit.
Arma gravi numero violentaque bella parabam
Edere, materia conveniente modis.
Par erat inferior versus: risisse Cupido
Dicitur atque unum surripuisse pedem.
'Quis tibi, saeve puer, dedit hoc in carmina iuris?
Pieridum vates, non tua turba sumus.
Quid, si praeripiat flavae Venus arma Minervae,
Ventilet accensas flava Minerva faces?
Quis probet in silvis Cererem regnare iugosis,
Lege pharetratae virginis arva coli?
Crinibus insignem quis acuta cuspide Phoebum
Instruat, Aoniam Marte movente lyram?
Sunt tibi magna, puer, nimiumque potentia regna;
Cur opus adfectas, ambitiose, novum?
An, quod ubique, tuum est? tua sunt Heliconia tempe?
Vix etiam Phoebo iam lyra tuta sua est?
Cum bene surrexit versu nova pagina primo,
Attenuat nervos proximus ille meos;
Nec mihi materia est numeris levioribus apta,
Aut puer aut longas compta puella comas.'
Questus eram, pharetra cum protinus ille soluta
Legit in exitium spicula facta meum,
Lunavitque genu sinuosum fortiter arcum,
'Quod' que 'canas, vates, accipe' dixit 'opus!'
Me miserum! certas habuit puer ille sagittas.
Uror, et in vacuo pectore regnat Amor.
Sex mihi surgat opus numeris, in quinque residat:
Ferrea cum vestris bella valete modis!
Cingere litorea flaventia tempora myrto,
Musa, per undenos emodulanda pedes!

[¶1] Ah me! why am I so uneasy grown?
Ah! why so restless on my bed of down?
Why do I wish to sleep, but wish in vain?
Why am I all the tedious night in pain?
What cause is this, that ease, that rest denies?
And why my words break forth in gentle sighs?
Sure I should know if love had fix'd his dart;
Or creeps he softly in with treacherous art,
And then grows tyrant, there and wounds the heart?
'Tis so, the shaft sticks deep, and galls my breast;
'Tis tyrant love, that robs my thoughts of rest!
Well, shall I tamely yield, or must I fight?
I'll yield; 'tis patience makes a burden light:
A shaken torch grows fierce, and sparks arise;
But, if unmov'd, the fire looks pale and dies.
The hard-mouth'd horse smarts for his fierce disdain
The gentle's ridden with a looser rein.
Love smooths the gentle, but the fierce reclaims;
He fires their breasts, and fills their souls with flames.
I yield; great Love, my former crimes forgive,
Forget my rebel thoughts, and let me live;
No need of force: I willingly obey,
And now unarm'd, shall prove no glorious prey.
Go take thy mother's doves, thy myrtle crown,
And for thy chariot, Mars shall lend his own;
There thou shalt sit in thy triumphant pride,
And, whilst glad shouts resound on ev'ry side,
Thy gentle hands thy mother's doves shall guide.
And there to make thy glorious pomp and state,
A train of sighing youths, and maids shall wait,
Yet none complain of an unhappy fate.
There newly conquer'd I, still fresh my wound,
Will march along, my hands with myrtle bound;
There modesty, with veils thrown o'er her face,
Now doubly blushing at her own disgrace;
There sober thoughts, and whatso'er disdains
Love's rules, shall feel his power, and bear his chains:
Then all shall fear, all bow, yet all rejoice;
"Io triumphe" be the public voice.
Thy constant guards, soft fancy, hope and fear,
Anger, and soft caresses shall be there:
By these strong guards are men and gods o'erthrown;
These conquer for thee, Love, and these alone,
Thy mother, from the sky thy pomp shall grace,
And scatter sweetest roses in thy face:
There glorious Love shall ride, profusely dress'd
With all the richest jewels of the east:
Rich gems thy quiver, and thy wheels infold,
And hide the poorness of the baser gold.
Then thou shalt conquer many, then.thy darts
Shall scatter thousand wounds on tender hearts:
Thy shafts themselves will fly, thy neighb'ring fire
Will catch mens' breasts, and kindle warm desire.
Thus conqu'ring Bacchus looks in Indian groves,
He drawn by tigers, thou by murm'ring doves.
Well then, since I too can increase thy train,
Spend not thy force on me, and rage in vain;
Look on thy kinsman Caesar's happy slaves,
The same victorious arm that conquers, saves.

> Latin: Esse quid hoc dicam, quod tam mihi dura videntur
Strata, neque in lecto pallia nostra sedent,
Et vacuus somno noctem, quam longa, peregi,
Lassaque versati corporis ossa dolent?
Nam, puto, sentirem, siquo temptarer amore.
An subit et tecta callidus arte nocet?
Sic erit; haeserunt tenues in corde sagittae,
Et possessa ferus pectora versat Amor.
Cedimus, an subitum luctando accendimus ignem?
Cedamus! leve fit, quod bene fertur, onus.
Vidi ego iactatas mota face crescere flammas
Et rursus nullo concutiente mori.
Verbera plura ferunt, quam quos iuvat usus aratri,
Detractant prensi dum iuga prima boves.
Asper equus duris contunditur ora lupatis,
Frena minus sentit, quisquis ad arma facit.
Acrius invitos multoque ferocius urget
Quam qui servitium ferre fatentur Amor.
En ego confiteor! tua sum nova praeda, Cupido;
Porrigimus victas ad tua iura manus.
Nil opus est bello — veniam pacemque rogamus;
Nec tibi laus armis victus inermis ero.
Necte comam myrto, maternas iunge columbas;
Qui deceat, currum vitricus ipse dabit,
Inque dato curru, populo clamante triumphum,
Stabis et adiunctas arte movebis aves.
Ducentur capti iuvenes captaeque puellae;
Haec tibi magnificus pompa triumphus erit.
Ipse ego, praeda recens, factum modo vulnus habebo
Et nova captiva vincula mente feram.
Mens Bona ducetur manibus post terga retortis,
Et Pudor, et castris quidquid Amoris obest.
Omnia te metuent; ad te sua bracchia tendens
Vulgus 'io' magna voce 'triumphe!' canet.
Blanditiae comites tibi erunt Errorque Furorque,
Adsidue partes turba secuta tuas.
His tu militibus superas hominesque deosque;
Haec tibi si demas commoda, nudus eris.
Laeta triumphanti de summo mater Olympo
Plaudet et adpositas sparget in ora rosas.
Tu pinnas gemma, gemma variante capillos
Ibis in auratis aureus ipse rotis.
Tunc quoque non paucos, si te bene novimus, ures;
Tunc quoque praeteriens vulnera multa dabis.
Non possunt, licet ipse velis, cessare sagittae;
Fervida vicino flamma vapore nocet.
Talis erat domita Bacchus Gangetide terra;
Tu gravis alitibus, tigribus ille fuit.
Ergo cum possim sacri pars esse triumphi,
Parce tuas in me perdere, victor, opes!
Adspice cognati felicia Caesaris arma —
Qua vicit, victos protegit ille manu.

[¶2] Be just, dear maid, an equal passion prove,
Or show me cause why I should ever love.
I do not at your cold disdain repine,
Nor ask your love, do you but suffer mine.
I dare not aim at more exalted bliss,
And Venus will bestow her vot'ry this.
Take hin, who will for endless ages serve:
Take him whose faithful flame will never swerve
Though no illustrious names my race adorn;
Who am but of equestrian order born;
Though a few ploughs serve my paternal fields,
Nor my small table many dishes yields;
Yet Bacchus, Phoebus, and the tuneful nine,
Are all my friends, and to my side incline,
And love's great god, at last, will make me thine.
Heav'n knows, dear maid, I love no other fair;
In thee lives all my love, my heav'n lies there.
Oh! may I by indulgent Fate's decree,
With thee lead all my life, and die with thee.
Thy beauties yield me my transporting theme;
And while I celebrate thy charming name,
My verse shall be as sacred as my flame.
Jove's sev'ral rapes, his injur'd Io's wrongs,
Are made immortal in his poet's songs.
Verse still reveals where Leda's flames began,
Rais'd by the secret godhead in the swan,
The story of the rape Europa bore,
Shall last while winds shall rage, or waters roar.
Your name shall live like theirs, while verse endures,
And mine be ever writ, and read with yours.

> Latin: Iusta precor: quae me nuper praedata puella est,
Aut amet aut faciat, cur ego semper amem!
A, nimium volui — tantum patiatur amari;
Audierit nostras tot Cytherea preces!
Accipe, per longos tibi qui deserviat annos;
Accipe, qui pura norit amare fide!
Si me non veterum commendant magna parentum
Nomina, si nostri sanguinis auctor eques,
Nec meus innumeris renovatur campus aratris,
Temperat et sumptus parcus uterque parens —
At Phoebus comitesque novem vitisque repertor
Hac faciunt, et me qui tibi donat, Amor,
Et nulli cessura fides, sine crimine mores
Nudaque simplicitas purpureusque pudor.
Non mihi mille placent, non sum desultor amoris:
Tu mihi, siqua fides, cura perennis eris.
Tecum, quos dederint annos mihi fila sororum,
Vivere contingat teque dolente mori!
Te mihi materiem felicem in carmina praebe —
Provenient causa carmina digna sua.
Carmine nomen habent exterrita cornibus Io
Et quam fluminea lusit adulter ave,
Quaeque super pontum simulato vecta iuvenco
Virginea tenuit cornua vara manu.
Nos quoque per totum pariter cantabimur orbem,
Iunctaque semper erunt nomina nostra tuis.

[¶3] Your husband will be with us at the treat,
May that be the last supper he shall eat.
And am poor I, a guest invited there,
Only to see, while he may touch the fair?
To see you kiss, and hug your nauseous lord,
While his lewd hand descends below the board?
No wonder that Hippodamia's charms,
At such a sight, the Centaurs urg'd to arms:
That in a rage, they threw their cups aside,
Assail'd the bridegroom, and would force the bride.
I am not half a horse, (I would I were:)
Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear.
Take, then, my counsel; which observ'd, may be,
Of some importance both to you and me.
Be sure to come before your man be there,
There's nothing can be done, but come howe'er.
Sit next him, (that belongs to decency;)
But tread upon my foot in passing by.
Read in my looks what silently they speak,
And slily, with your eyes, your answer make.
My lifted eye-brow shall declare my pain,
My right hand to his fellow shall complain;
And on the back a letter shall design,
Beside a note that shall be writ in wine.
Whene'er you think upon our last embrace,
With your fore-finger gently touch your face.
If any word of mine offend my dear,
Pull with your hand the velvet of your ear;
If you are pleas'd with what I do or say,
Handle your rings, or vith your fingers play.
As suppliants use at altars, hold the board,
Whene'er you wish the devil may take your lord.
When he fills for you, never touch the cup,
But bid th' officious cuckold drink it up:
The waiter on those services employ;
Drink you, and I will snatch it from the boy,
Watching the part where your sweet mouth hath been,
And thence, with eager lips, will suck it in.
If he, with clownish manners, thinks it fit
To taste, and offer you the nasty bit,
Reject his greasy kindness, and restore
Th' unsav'ry morsel he had chew'd before.
Nor let his arms embrace your neck, nor rest
Your tender cheek upon his hairy breast;
Let not his hand within your bosom stray,
And rudely with your pretty bubbies play.
But, above all, let him no kiss receive,
That's an offence I never can forgive;
Do not, oh! do not that sweet mouth resign,
Lest I rise up in arms, and cry 'tis mine.
I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of fear
The manifest adult'rer will appear.
These things are plain to sight, but more I doubt
What you conceal beneath your petticoat;
Take not his leg between your tender thighs,
Nor with your hand provoke my foe to rise.
How many love inventions I deplore,
Which I myself have practis'd all before!
How oft have I been forc'd the robe to lift
In company; to make a homely shift
For a bare bout, ill huddled o'er in haste,
While o'er my side the fair her mantle cast!
You to your husband shall not be so kind,
But lest you should, your mantle leave behind.
Encourage him to tope, but kiss him not,
Nor mix one drop of water in his pot.
If he be fuddled well, and snores apace,
Then we may take advice from time and place.
When all depart, while compliments are loud,
Be sure to mix among the thickest crowd;
There I will be, and there we cannot miss,
Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kiss.
Alas, what length of labor I employ,
Just to secure a short and transient joy!
For night must part us, and when night is come
Tuck'd underneath his arm, he leads you home.
He locks you in, I follow to the door,
His fortune envy, and my own deplore;
He kisses you, he more than kisses too,
Th' outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due.
But add not to his joy by your consent,
And let it not be given, but only lent;
Return no kiss, nor move in any sort,
Make it a dull and a malignant sport.
Had I my wish he should no pleasure take,
But slubber o'er your bus'ness for my sake;
And whate'er fortune shall this night befall,
Coax me to morrow by forswearing all.

> Latin: Vir tuus est epulas nobis aditurus easdem —
Ultima coena tuo sit, precor, illa viro!
Ergo ego dilectam tantum conviva puellam
Adspiciam? tangi quem iuvet, alter erit,
Alteriusque sinus apte subiecta fovebis?
Iniciet collo, cum volet, ille manum?
Desino mirari, posito quod candida vino
Atracis ambiguos traxit in arma viros.
Nec mihi silva domus, nec equo mea membra cohaerent —
Vix a te videor posse tenere manus!
Quae tibi sint facienda tamen cognosce, nec Euris
Da mea nec tepidis verba ferenda Notis!
Ante veni, quam vir — nec quid, si veneris ante,
Possit agi video; sed tamen ante veni.
Cum premet ille torum, vultu comes ipsa modesto
Ibis, ut accumbas — clam mihi tange pedem!
Me specta nutusque meos vultumque loquacem;
Excipe furtivas et refer ipsa notas.
Verba superciliis sine voce loquentia dicam;
Verba leges digitis, verba notata mero.
Cum tibi succurret Veneris lascivia nostrae,
Purpureas tenero pollice tange genas.
Siquid erit, de me tacita quod mente queraris,
Pendeat extrema mollis ab aure manus.
Cum tibi, quae faciam, mea lux, dicamve, placebunt,
Versetur digitis anulus usque tuis.
Tange manu mensam, tangunt quo more precantes,
Optabis merito cum mala multa viro.
Quod tibi miscuerit, sapias, bibat ipse, iubeto;
Tu puerum leviter posce, quod ipsa voles.
Quae tu reddideris ego primus pocula sumam,
Et, qua tu biberis, hac ego parte bibam.
Si tibi forte dabit, quod praegustaverit ipse,
Reice libatos illius ore cibos.
Nec premat inpositis sinito tua colla lacertis,
Mite nec in rigido pectore pone caput;
Nec sinus admittat digitos habilesve papillae;
Oscula praecipue nulla dedisse velis!
Oscula si dederis, fiam manifestus amator
Et dicam 'mea sunt!' iniciamque manum.
Haec tamen adspiciam, sed quae bene pallia celant,
Illa mihi caeci causa timoris erunt.
Nec femori committe femur nec crure cohaere
Nec tenerum duro cum pede iunge pedem.
Multa miser timeo, quia feci multa proterve,
Exemplique metu torqueor, ecce, mei.
Saepe mihi dominaeque meae properata voluptas
Veste sub iniecta dulce peregit opus.
Hoc tu non facies; sed, ne fecisse puteris,
Conscia de tergo pallia deme tuo.
Vir bibat usque roga — precibus tamen oscula desint! —
Dumque bibit, furtim si potes, adde merum.
Si bene conpositus somno vinoque iacebit,
Consilium nobis resque locusque dabunt.
Cum surges abitura domum, surgemus et omnes,
In medium turbae fac memor agmen eas.
Agmine me invenies aut invenieris in illo:
Quidquid ibi poteris tangere, tange, mei.
Me miserum! monui, paucas quod prosit in horas;
Separor a domina nocte iubente mea.
Nocte vir includet, lacrimis ego maestus obortis,
Qua licet, ad saevas prosequar usque fores.
Oscula iam sumet, iam non tantum oscula sumet:
Quod mihi das furtim, iure coacta dabis.
Verum invita dato — potes hoc — similisque coactae;
Blanditiae taceant, sitque maligna Venus.
Si mea vota valent, illum quoque ne iuvet, opto;
Si minus, at certe te iuvet inde nihil.
Sed quaecumque tamen noctem fortuna sequetur,
Cras mihi constanti voce dedisse nega!

[¶4] 'Twas noon when I, scorch'd with the double fire
Of the hot sun and my more hot desire,
Stretch'd on my downy couch at ease was laid,
Big with expectance of the lovely maid.
The curtains but half drawn, a light let in
Such as in shades of thickest groves is seen,
Such as remains when the sun flies away,
Or when night's gone, and yet it is not day.
This light to modest maids must be allow'd,
Where shame may hope its guilty head to shroud.
And now my love Corinna did appear,
Loose on her neck fell her divided hair;
Loose as her flowing gown, that wanton'd in the air.
In such a garb, with such a grace and mien,
To her rich bed came the Assyrian queen;
So Lais looked when all the youth of Greece
With adoration did her charms confess.
Her envious gown to pull away I tried,
But she resisted still, and still denied;
But so resisted that she seem'd to be
Unwilling to obtain the victory;
So I at last an easy conquest had,
Whilst my fair combatant herself betray'd.
But when she naked stood before my eyes,
Gods, with what charms did she my soul surprise!
What snowy arms did I both see and feel!
With what rich globes did her soft bosom swell!
Plump as ripe clusters rose each glowing breast,
Courting the hand, and suing to be press'd!
What a smooth plain was on her belly spread,
Where thousand little loves and graces play'd!
What thighs! what legs! but why strive I in vain,
Each limb, each grace, each feature to explain
One beauty did through her whole body shine;
I saw, admir'd, and press'd it close to mine
The rest who knows not? Thus entranc'd we lay,
Till in each other's arms we died away;
0 give me such a noon, ye gods, to ev'ry day!

> Latin: Aestus erat, mediamque dies exegerat horam;
Adposui medio membra levanda toro.
Pars adaperta fuit, pars altera clausa fenestrae;
Quale fere silvae lumen habere solent,
Qualia sublucent fugiente crepuscula Phoebo,
Aut ubi nox abiit, nec tamen orta dies.
Illa verecundis lux est praebenda puellis,
Qua timidus latebras speret habere pudor.
Ecce, Corinna venit, tunica velata recincta,
Candida dividua colla tegente coma —
Qualiter in thalamos famosa Semiramis isse
Dicitur, et multis Lais amata viris.
Deripui tunicam — nec multum rara nocebat;
Pugnabat tunica sed tamen illa tegi.
Quae cum ita pugnaret, tamquam quae vincere nollet,
Victa est non aegre proditione sua.
Ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros,
In toto nusquam corpore menda fuit.
Quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos!
Forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi!
Quam castigato planus sub pectore venter!
Quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur!
Singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi
Et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum.
Cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo.
Proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies!

[¶5] Slave, if thou worthy of thy chains wouldst be,
A grateful office do to love and me.
Unbar the wicket, and a friend admit;
The trouble is not much, nor favour great.
I ask thee not to spread the foldings wide;
Keep it at jar,-I'll softly by thee slide.
I to love's labours have so long been us'd,
My shapes are to a lath's lank size reduc'd.
The smallest crevice will my bus'ness do,
It cannot be so straight but I'll slip through.
Love guides me when by night I walk the street,
And when I grope my way directs my feet.
By night I was a youth afraid to walk,
Frighted by children and old nurses' talk;
I wonder'd men could wander in the gloom,
And kept, for fear of spirits, close at home.
Love and his mother, when they knew my care,
Cried, "Fool, thou shalt not long these phantoms fear."
Nor fear'd I long, for love my heart possess'd;
Those visions vanish'd, and my terrors ceas'd:
Nor ghosts nor scourers did I dread, but stroll'd
The streets a-nights, and grew in peril bold.
Thee only do I fear, and trembling stand
To wait the motions of thy tardy hand:
With soft request thy succour I implore,
Nor sue to Jove nor dread the Thund'rer more.
See how the gate is moistened with my tears!
What marks of my impatient love it bears!
Remember, when thou for the lash wert stripp'd
Who sav'd thee, at whose suit thou wert not whipp'd.
Did not I sooth thy angry lady's mind,
And make thy peace? Be thou to me as kind.
Think what soft things to move her soul I said,
And let them in a lover's favour plead.
But ah! the tender things that made her kind,
Work no such wonders on thy cruel mind.
Wouldst thou my friendly offices repay,
Fate throws a fair occasion in thy way;
Unlock the gate, the morning will not stay.
Unlock the gate; and as thou'rt kind to me,
So may thy gentle lady prove to thee;
May she to loose thy hateful chains incline,
And stead of water, be thy portion wine.
But what avail my soothing words? Thy ear
Is deaf, inhuman! to my moving pray'r.
Your gates with posts of pond'rous oak are barr'd,
As if your house was for a siege prepar'd;
Why all this fence? what foe have you to fear?
And why in peace do you provide for war?
Thus rudely if your lady's friends you treat,
What usage must her foes expect to meet?
Unlock the gate,-the morning will not stay;
Unlock the gate, and give my love its way.
Or is it sloth or is it sleep that brings,
This let to love, and pinions down his wings!
Why else do I in vain repeat my prayer,
Is it, thou dost not, or thou wilt not hear?
When first I waited at thy gate, and thought
To 'scape thy care, I was at midnight caught.
With over-dilligence thou then look'st out,
To spy what lover was upon the scout.
These are wild guesses, thou'rt perhaps employ'd
More sweetly, and enjoy'st what I enjoy'd.
And while I'm waiting with impatience here,
Thy envied fortune's with the faithless fair.
Oh, for thy pleasure, give me all thy pains,
Let us change chances, and be mine thy chains.
Unlock the gate, the morning will not stay,
Unlock the gate, and kindness past repay.
Hark: or I dream, or on the hinge I hear
The wicket turn, or bolts unloosen'd jar.
I dream, indeed, the bolts as they were laid,
Stand fix'd: the noise was by my fancy made.
But all, alas! is hush'd, I hear no sound,
All in the silence of the night is drown'd.
Here, hopeless of admittance, I attend,
While on my head the pearly dews descend.
Unlock the gate, the morning will not stay,
Unlock the gate, I will no longer pray,
But force by sword and fire my readier way.
What need of fire or sword? myself alone,
More pow'rful, than or sword or fire am grown.
Around your heads shall flaming torches fly,
And Jove the house shall burn, as well as I.
Night, love, and wine encourage and inflame:
These triumph over fear, and that o'er shame.
All ways I've tried, but all successless prove,
Nor threats can fright thee, nor entreaties move;
Deaf to my pray'rs as to my tears thou'rt blind,
Thy gate is less obdurate than thy mind.
But see, the ruddy morn begins to rise,
And paints with rosy streaks the eastern skies,
While crowing cocks the lab'rer's sloth revile,
And summon wretches to their daily toil.
Throw then, fond man, thy fragrant chaplet by,
And let it at thy lady's threshold lie.
When in the morn thy faded flow'rs she spies,
Kind thoughts of me may in her bosom rise,
Perhaps she may resent her porter's crime,
And grieve that here so ill I spent my time.
Against me though thou shut'st thy lady's gate,
I cannot one, that serves my mistress, hate.
You both who did against my hopes rebel,
Ah, porter; and ah, cruel gate, farewell.

> Latin: Ianitor — indignum! — dura religate catena,
Difficilem moto cardine pande forem!
Quod precor, exiguum est — aditu fac ianua parvo
Obliquum capiat semiadaperta latus.
Longus amor tales corpus tenuavit in usus
Aptaque subducto pondere membra dedit.
Ille per excubias custodum leniter ire
Monstrat: inoffensos derigit ille pedes.
At quondam noctem simulacraque vana timebam;
Mirabar, tenebris quisquis iturus erat.
Risit, ut audirem, tenera cum matre Cupido
Et leviter 'fies tu quoque fortis' ait.
Nec mora, venit amor — non umbras nocte volantis,
Non timeo strictas in mea fata manus.
Te nimium lentum timeo, tibi blandior uni;
Tu, me quo possis perdere, fulmen habes.
Adspice — uti videas, inmitia claustra relaxa —
Uda sit ut lacrimis ianua facta meis!
Certe ego, cum posita stares ad verbera veste,
Ad dominam pro te verba tremente tuli.
Ergo quae valuit pro te quoque gratia quondam —
Heu facinus! — pro me nunc valet illa parum?
Redde vicem meritis! grato licet esse quod optas.
Tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram!
Excute! sic, inquam, longa relevere catena,
Nec tibi perpetuo serva bibatur aqua!
Ferreus orantem nequiquam, ianitor, audis,
Roboribus duris ianua fulta riget.
Urbibus obsessis clausae munimina portae
Prosunt; in media pace quid arma times?
Quid facies hosti, qui sic excludis amantem?
Tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram!
Non ego militibus venio comitatus et armis;
Solus eram, si non saevus adesset Amor.
Hunc ego, si cupiam, nusquam dimittere possum;
Ante vel a membris dividar ipse meis.
Ergo Amor et modicum circa mea tempora vinum
Mecum est et madidis lapsa corona comis.
Arma quis haec timeat? quis non eat obvius illis?
Tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram!
Lentus es: an somnus, qui te male perdat, amantis
Verba dat in ventos aure repulsa tua?
At, memini, primo, cum te celare volebam,
Pervigil in mediae sidera noctis eras.
Forsitan et tecum tua nunc requiescit amica —
Heu, melior quanto sors tua sorte mea!
Dummodo sic, in me durae transite catenae!
Tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram!
Fallimur, an verso sonuerunt cardine postes,
Raucaque concussae signa dedere fores?
Fallimur — inpulsa est animoso ianua vento.
Ei mihi, quam longe spem tulit aura meam!
Si satis es raptae, Borea, memor Orithyiae,
Huc ades et surdas flamine tunde foris!
Urbe silent tota, vitreoque madentia rore
Tempora noctis eunt; excute poste seram!
Aut ego iam ferroque ignique paratior ipse,
Quem face sustineo, tecta superba petam.
Nox et Amor vinumque nihil moderabile suadent;
Illa pudore vacat, Liber Amorque metu.
Omnia consumpsi, nec te precibusque minisque
Movimus, o foribus durior ipse tuis.
Non te formosae decuit servare puellae
Limina, sollicito carcere dignus eras.
Iamque pruinosus molitur Lucifer axes,
Inque suum miseros excitat ales opus.
At tu, non laetis detracta corona capillis,
Dura super tota limina nocte iace!
Tu dominae, cum te proiectam mane videbit,
Temporis absumpti tam male testis eris.
Qualiscumque vale sentique abeuntis honorem;
Lente nec admisso turpis amante, vale!
Vos quoque, crudeles rigido cum limine postes
Duraque conservae ligna, valete, fores!

[¶6] Come, if ye're friends, and let these hands be bound,
Which could with impious rage a mistress wound:
What more did Ajax in his fury do,
When all the sacred grazing herd he slew?
Or he who spared not her who gave him breath?
So ill the son reveng'd his father's death!
Then I had broke the most religious ties,
Both to my parents and the deities:
I tore (0 heav'ns!) her finely braided hair,
How charming then look'd the disorder'd fair.
So Atalanta in her chaise is drawn,
Where the Arcadian beasts her empire own:
So Ariadne, left upon the shore,
Does all alone her lost estate deplore.
Who would not then have rail'd and talk'd aloud
(Which to the helpless sex might be allowed.)
She only did upbraid me with her eye,
Whose speaking tears did want of words supply.
0, that some merciful superior pow'r
Had struck me lame before that fatal hour,
And not have suffer'd me to pierce my heart
So deeply, in the best and tend'rest part;
To make a lady that subjection own,
Which is not to the meanest Roman known.
'Twas Diomede, who first a goddess struck,
I from his hand that curs'd example took;
But he was far less criminal than I,
I was a lover, he an enemy.
March like a conqueror in triumph now,
With laurel wreaths encompassing your brow,
And render to the mighty gods your vow:
So, as you pass, th' attending gazing crowd,
By their applause shall speak your courage loud:
Let your sad captive in the front appear,
With streaming cheeks, and with dishevell'd hair.
Such lips were form'd for kinder words than these,
Wounds made by lovers' furious ecstasies.
Though like a torrent I was hurried on,
A slave to passion which I could not shun,
I might have only pierc'd her tender ear
With threatening language, such as virgins fear.
Fear having chill'd the current of her blood,
She pale as Parian marble statue stood;
Tears, which suspense did for a while restrain,
Gush'd forth, and down her cheeks the deluge ran.
As when the sun does by a powerful beam
Dissolve the frost, it runs into a stream.
The lamentable objects struck me dead,
And tears of blood to quench those tears I shed;
Thrice at her feet the prostrate suppliant fell,
And thrice did she repulse the criminal.
What would I not your anger to abate,
Redeem your favour, or remove your hate?
To your revenge no means or method spare;
Revenge, alas! is easy to the fair.

> Latin: Adde manus in vincla meas — meruere catenas —
Dum furor omnis abit, siquis amicus ades!
Nam furor in dominam temeraria bracchia movit;
Flet mea vaesana laesa puella manu.
Tunc ego vel caros potui violare parentes
Saeva vel in sanctos verbera ferre deos!
Quid? non et clipei dominus septemplicis Aiax
Stravit deprensos lata per arva greges,
Et, vindex in matre patris, malus ultor, Orestes
Ausus in arcanas poscere tela deas?
Ergo ego digestos potui laniare capillos?
Nec dominam motae dedecuere comae.
Sic formosa fuit. talem Schoeneida dicam
Maenalias arcu sollicitasse feras;
Talis periuri promissaque velaque Thesei
Flevit praecipites Cressa tulisse Notos;
Sic, nisi vittatis quod erat Cassandra capillis,
Procubuit templo, casta Minerva, tuo.
Quis mihi non 'demens!' quis non mihi 'barbare!' dixit?
Ipsa nihil; pavido est lingua retenta metu.
Sed taciti fecere tamen convicia vultus;
Egit me lacrimis ore silente reum.
Ante meos umeris vellem cecidisse lacertos;
Utiliter potui parte carere mei.
In mea vaesanas habui dispendia vires
Et valui poenam fortis in ipse meam.
Quid mihi vobiscum, caedis scelerumque ministrae?
Debita sacrilegae vincla subite manus!
An, si pulsassem minimum de plebe Quiritem,
Plecterer — in dominam ius mihi maius erit?
Pessima Tydides scelerum monimenta reliquit.
Ille deam primus perculit — alter ego!
Et minus ille nocens. mihi, quam profitebar amare
Laesa est; Tydides saevus in hoste fuit.
I nunc, magnificos victor molire triumphos,
Cinge comam lauro votaque redde Iovi,
Quaeque tuos currus comitantum turba sequetur,
Clamet 'io! forti victa puella viro est!'
Ante eat effuso tristis captiva capillo,
Si sinerent laesae, candida tota, genae.
Aptius impressis fuerat livere labellis
Et collum blandi dentis habere notam.
Denique, si tumidi ritu torrentis agebar,
Caecaque me praedam fecerat ira suam,
Nonne satis fuerat timidae inclamasse puellae,
Nec nimium rigidas intonuisse minas,
Aut tunicam summa deducere turpiter ora
Ad mediam? — mediae zona tulisset opem.
At nunc sustinui raptis a fronte capillis
Ferreus ingenuas ungue notare genas.
Adstitit illa amens albo et sine sanguine vultu,
Caeduntur Pariis qualia saxa iugis.
Exanimis artus et membra trementia vidi —
Ut cum populeas ventilat aura comas,
Ut leni Zephyro gracilis vibratur harundo,
Summave cum tepido stringitur unda Noto;
Suspensaeque diu lacrimae fluxere per ora,
Qualiter abiecta de nive manat aqua.
Tunc ego me primum coepi sentire nocentem —
Sanguis erant lacrimae, quas dabat illa, meus.
Ter tamen ante pedes volui procumbere supplex;
Ter formidatas reppulit illa manus.
At tu ne dubita — minuet vindicta dolorem —
Protinus in vultus unguibus ire meos.
Nec nostris oculis nec nostris parce capillis:
Quamlibet infirmas adiuvat ira manus;
Neve mei sceleris tam tristia signa supersint,
Pone recompositas in statione comas!

[¶7] There is a bawd renown'd in Venus' wars,
Aud dreadful still with honorable scars;
Her youth and beauty, craft and guile supply,
Sworn foe to all degrees of chastity.
Dypsas, who first taught love-sick maids the way
To cheat the bridegroom on the wedding-day,
And then a hundred subtle tricks devis'd,
Wherewith the am'rous theft might be disguis'd;
Of herbs and spells she tries the guilty force,
The poison of a mare that goes to horse.
Cleaving the midnight air upon a switch,
Some for a bawd, most take her for a witch.
Each morning sees her reeling to her bed,
Her native blue o'ercome with drunken red:
Her ready tongue ne'er wants a useful lie,
Soft moving words, nor charming flattery.
Thus I o'erheard her to my Lucia speak:
"Young Damon's heart wilt thou for ever break
He long has lov'd thee, and by me he sends
To learn thy motions, which he still attends;
If to the park thou go'st, the plays are ill;
If to the plays, he thinks the air would kill.
The other day he gaz'd upon thy face,
As he would grow a statue in the place;
And who indeed does not? like a new star,
Beauty like thine strikes wonder from afar.
Alas! methinks thou art ill-dress'd to-night;
This point's too poor; thy necklace is not right;
This gown was by some botching tailor made,
It spoils thy shape; this fucus is ill laid.
Hear me, and be as happy as thou'rt fair:
Damon is rich, and what thou wanst, can spare.
Like thine his face, like thine his eyes are thought.
Would he not buy, he might himself be bought."
Fair Lucia blush'd. "It is a sign of grace,
(Dypsas replied,) that red becomes thy face.
All lovers now by what they give are weighed,
And she is best belov'd that best is paid;
The sun-burnt Latins, in old Tatius' reign,
Did to one man perhaps their love restrain:
Venus in her Aeneas' city rules,
And all adore her deity but fools.
Go on, ye fair, chaste only let such live
As none will ask, and know not how to give.
Life steals away, and our best hours are gone
Ere the true use or worth of them be known.
Things long neglected, of themselves decay;
What we forbear, time rudely makes his prey.
Beauty is best preserv'd by exercise,
Nor for that task can one or few suffice.
Wouldst thou grow rich, thou must from many take:
From one 'twere hard continually to rake.
Without new gowns and coaches, who can live?
What does thy poet but new verses give?
A poet, the last thing that earth does breed,
Whose wit, for sixpence, any one may read.
Hang the poor lover, and his pedigree;
The thriving merchant, or fat judge, give me.
Love truly none, but seem in love with all,
And at old friends to thy new lovers rail.
Sometimes deny, 'twill appetite procure;
The sharp-set hawks will stoop to any lure.
Then grant again, lest he a habit get
Of living from thee; but be sure thou let
No empty lover in; murmur sometimes,
And at first hurt, reproach him with thy crimes.
Seem jealous, when thou'st been thyself to blame;
'Twill stop his mouth, if thou the first complain.
All thou hast done be ready to forswear:
For lovers' oaths fair Venus has no ear.
Whilst lie is with thee, let some woman bring
Some Indian stuff or foreign precious thing;
Which thou must say thou want'st, and he must buy,
Though for it six months hence in gaol he lie.
Thy mother, sister, brother, and thy nurse,
Must have a pull each at thy lover's purse.
Let him from rivals never be secure,
That hope once gone, love will not long endure;
Show him the presents by those rivals sent,
So shall his bounty thy request prevent.
When he will give no more, ask him to lend:
If he wants money, find a trusting friend.
Get hangings, cabinets, and looking-glass,
Or any thing for which his word will pass.
Practise these rules, thou'lt find the benefit!
I lost my beauty ere I got this wit."
I at that word step'd from behind the door,
And scarce my nails from her thin cheeks forbore.
Her few gray hairs in rage I vow'd to pull,
And thrust her drunken eyes into her skull.
"Poor in a dungeon's bottom may'st thou rot,
Die with a blow with thy beloved pot;
No brandy, and eternal thirst, thy lot."

> Latin: Est quaedam — quicumque volet cognoscere lenam,
Audiat! — est quaedam nomine Dipsas anus.
Ex re nomen habet — nigri non illa parentem
Memnonis in roseis sobria vidit equis.
Illa magas artes Aeaeaque carmina novit
Inque caput liquidas arte recurvat aquas;
Scit bene, quid gramen, quid torto concita rhombo
Licia, quid valeat virus amantis equae.
Cum voluit, toto glomerantur nubila caelo;
Cum voluit, puro fulget in orbe dies.
Sanguine, siqua fides, stillantia sidera vidi;
Purpureus Lunae sanguine vultus erat.
Hanc ego nocturnas versam volitare per umbras
Suspicor et pluma corpus anile tegi.
Suspicor, et fama est. oculis quoque pupula duplex
Fulminat, et gemino lumen ab orbe venit.
Evocat antiquis proavos atavosque sepulcris
Et solidam longo carmine findit humum.
Haec sibi proposuit thalamos temerare pudicos;
Nec tamen eloquio lingua nocente caret.
Fors me sermoni testem dedit; illa monebat
Talia — me duplices occuluere fores:
'Scis here te, mea lux, iuveni placuisse beato?
Haesit et in vultu constitit usque tuo.
Et cur non placeas? nulli tua forma secunda est;
Me miseram, dignus corpore cultus abest!
Tam felix esses quam formosissima, vellem —
Non ego, te facta divite, pauper ero.
Stella tibi oppositi nocuit contraria Martis.
Mars abiit; signo nunc Venus apta suo.
Prosit ut adveniens, en adspice! dives amator
Te cupiit; curae, quid tibi desit, habet.
Est etiam facies, qua se tibi conparet, illi;
Si te non emptam vellet, emendus erat.'
Erubuit. 'decet alba quidem pudor ora, sed iste,
Si simules, prodest; verus obesse solet.
Cum bene deiectis gremium spectabis ocellis,
Quantum quisque ferat, respiciendus erit.
Forsitan inmundae Tatio regnante Sabinae
Noluerint habiles pluribus esse viris;
Nunc Mars externis animos exercet in armis,
At Venus Aeneae regnat in urbe sui.
Ludunt formosae; casta est, quam nemo rogavit —
Aut, si rusticitas non vetat, ipsa rogat.
Has quoque, quae frontis rugas in vertice portant,
Excute; de rugis crimina multa cadent.
Penelope iuvenum vires temptabat in arcu;
Qui latus argueret, corneus arcus erat.
Labitur occulte fallitque volubilis aetas,
Ut celer admissis labitur amnis aquis.
Aera nitent usu, vestis bona quaerit haberi,
Canescunt turpi tecta relicta situ —
Forma, nisi admittas, nullo exercente senescit.
Nec satis effectus unus et alter habent;
Certior e multis nec tam invidiosa rapina est.
Plena venit canis de grege praeda lupis.
Ecce, quid iste tuus praeter nova carmina vates
Donat? amatoris milia multa leges.
Ipse deus vatum palla spectabilis aurea
Tractat inauratae consona fila lyrae.
Qui dabit, ille tibi magno sit maior Homero;
Crede mihi, res est ingeniosa dare.
Nec tu, siquis erit capitis mercede redemptus,
Despice; gypsati crimen inane pedis.
Nec te decipiant veteres circum atria cerae.
Tolle tuos tecum, pauper amator, avos!
Qui, quia pulcher erit, poscet sine munere noctem,
Quod det, amatorem flagitet ante suum!
Parcius exigito pretium, dum retia tendis,
Ne fugiant; captos legibus ure tuis!
Nec nocuit simulatus amor; sine, credat amari,
Et cave ne gratis hic tibi constet amor!
Saepe nega noctes. capitis modo finge dolorem,
Et modo, quae causas praebeat, Isis erit.
Mox recipe, ut nullum patiendi colligat usum,
Neve relentescat saepe repulsus amor.
Surda sit oranti tua ianua, laxa ferenti;
Audiat exclusi verba receptus amans;
Et, quasi laesa prior, nonnumquam irascere laeso —
Vanescit culpa culpa repensa tua.
Sed numquam dederis spatiosum tempus in iram:
Saepe simultates ira morata facit.
Quin etiam discant oculi lacrimare coacti,
Et faciant udas illa vel ille genas;
Nec, siquem falles, tu periurare timeto —
Commodat in lusus numina surda Venus.
Servus et ad partes sollers ancilla parentur,
Qui doceant, apte quid tibi possit emi;
Et sibi pauca rogent — multos si pauca rogabunt,
Postmodo de stipula grandis acervus erit.
Et soror et mater, nutrix quoque carpat amantem;
Fit cito per multas praeda petita manus.
Cum te deficient poscendi munera causae,
Natalem libo testificare tuum!
Ne securus amet nullo rivale, caveto;
Non bene, si tollas proelia, durat amor.
Ille viri videat toto vestigia lecto
Factaque lascivis livida colla notis.
Munera praecipue videat, quae miserit alter.
Si dederit nemo, Sacra roganda Via est.
Cum multa abstuleris, ut non tamen omnia donet,
Quod numquam reddas, commodet, ipsa roga!
Lingua iuvet mentemque tegat — blandire noceque;
Inpia sub dulci melle venena latent.
Haec si praestiteris usu mihi cognita longo,
Nec tulerint voces ventus et aura meas,
Saepe mihi dices vivae bene, saepe rogabis,
Ut mea defunctae molliter ossa cubent.'
Vox erat in cursu, cum me mea prodidit umbra,
At nostrae vix se continuere manus,
Quin albam raramque comam lacrimosaque vino
Lumina rugosas distraherentque genas.
Di tibi dent nullosque Lares inopemque senectam,
Et longas hiemes perpetuamque sitim!

[¶8] Trust me, my Atticus, in love are wars;
And Cupid has his camp, as well as Mars:
The age that's fit for war best suits with love,
The old in both unserviceable prove,
Infirm in war, and impotent in love.
The soldiers which a general does require,
Are such as ladies would in bed desire:
Who but a soldier, and a lover, can
Bear the night's cold, in show'rs of hail and rain?
One in continual watch his station keeps,
Or on the earth in broken slumbers sleeps;
The other takes his still repeated round
By mistress' house — then lodges on the ground.
Soldiers, and lovers, with a careful eye,
Observe the motions of the enemy:
One to the walls makes his approach in form,
Pushes the siege, and takes the town by storm:
The other lays his close to Celia's fort,
Presses his point, and gains the wish'd-for port.
As soldiers, when the foe securely lies
In sleep, and wine dissolv'd, the camp surprise;
So when the jealous to their rest remove,
And all is hush'd, — the other steals to love.
You then, who think that love's an idle fit,
Know, that it is the exercise of wit.
In flames of love the fierce Achilles burns,
And, quitting arms, absent Briseis mourns:
From the embraces of Andromache
Went Hector arm'd for war, and victory.
As Agamemnon saw Cassandra pass
With hair dishevell'd, and disorder'd dress,
H' admir'd the beauties of the prophetess:
The god of war was caught in th' act of love;
A story know to all the court above.
Once did I pass my hours in sloth and ease,
Cool shades and beds of down could only please;
When a commanding beauty rais'd my mind,
I left all little trifling thoughts behind,
And to her service all my heart resign'd:
Since, like an active soldier, have I spent
My time in toils of war, in beauty's tent:
And for so sweet a pay all dangers underwent.
You see, my Atticus, by what I prove,
Who would not live in idleness-must love.

> Latin: Militat omnis amans, et habet sua castra Cupido;
Attice, crede mihi, militat omnis amans.
Quae bello est habilis, Veneri quoque convenit aetas.
Turpe senex miles, turpe senilis amor.
Quos petiere duces animos in milite forti,
Hos petit in socio bella puella viro.
Pervigilant ambo; terra requiescit uterque —
Ille fores dominae servat, at ille ducis.
Militis officium longa est via; mitte puellam,
Strenuus exempto fine sequetur amans.
Ibit in adversos montes duplicataque nimbo
Flumina, congestas exteret ille nives,
Nec freta pressurus tumidos causabitur Euros
Aptaque verrendis sidera quaeret aquis.
Quis nisi vel miles vel amans et frigora noctis
Et denso mixtas perferet imbre nives?
Mittitur infestos alter speculator in hostes;
In rivale oculos alter, ut hoste, tenet.
Ille graves urbes, hic durae limen amicae
Obsidet; hic portas frangit, at ille fores.
Saepe soporatos invadere profuit hostes
Caedere et armata vulgus inerme manu.
Sic fera Threicii ceciderunt agmina Rhesi,
Et dominum capti deseruistis equi.
Nempe maritorum somnis utuntur amantes,
Et sua sopitis hostibus arma movent.
Custodum transire manus vigilumque catervas
Militis et miseri semper amantis opus.
Mars dubius nec certa Venus; victique resurgunt,
Quosque neges umquam posse iacere, cadunt.
Ergo desidiam quicumque vocabat amorem,
Desinat. ingenii est experientis amor.
Ardet in abducta Briseide magnus Achilles —
Dum licet, Argeas frangite, Troes, opes!
Hector ab Andromaches conplexibus ibat ad arma,
Et, galeam capiti quae daret, uxor erat.
Summa ducum, Atrides, visa Priameide fertur
Maenadis effusis obstipuisse comis.
Mars quoque deprensus fabrilia vincula sensit;
Notior in caelo fabula nulla fuit.
Ipse ego segnis eram discinctaque in otia natus;
Mollierant animos lectus et umbra meos.
Inpulit ignavum formosae cura puellae
Iussit et in castris aera merere suis.
Inde vides agilem nocturnaque bella gerentem.
Qui nolet fieri desidiosus, amet!