Bultelius: Somium

(1) Ego me, premente somno
Placidae dedi quieti;
Animum dolore fessum
Sopor altus occupauit.
(5) Ibi se mihi Loysa
Dedit obuiam, manuque
Mihi dexteram praehendit,
Simul et procul reduxit
Syluae in uagos recessus.

(1) I, with sleep pressing,
gave myself to placid quiet;
deep sleep seized my spirit,
wearied with pain.
(5) There Loysa met me,
and with her hand she grasped my right hand,
and at the same time led me far away back
into the wandering recesses of the forest.

(10) Animas locus beatas
Scelerumque sorde puras
Habet ille Amorque castus
Volat huc et huc et illuc.
Tenerae rosas puellae et
(15) Violas legunt et herbas.
Bene olentibus parandis
Studet illa et haec corollis.
Ibi me Loysa prato
Medio iubet sedere,

(10) The place holds blessed souls
and pure from the filth of crimes;
That one holds them, and chaste Love
flies hither and hither and thither.
Tender girls roses and
(15) violets gather and herbs.
For preparing sweet-smelling
corollas, that one and this one is intent.
There Loysa bids me, in the meadow,
sit in the midst,

(20) Liquidaque uoce carmen
Tenero canens Amori,
Nemus omne personare
Volucrum facit canoris
Modulis; renidet aër;
(25) Violae rosaeque rident;
Strepit unda murmurillans,
Cytharaeque concinentis
Numeros modosque dulces
Iterans recantat Echo.

(20) And with a liquid voice a song
singing to Tender Love,
she makes the whole grove resound
with the tuneful measures of the birds;
the air smiles;
(25) the violets and the roses laugh;
the murmuring wave chatters,
and Echo, repeating
the numbers and the sweet modes
of the harmonizing cithara, sings back.

(30) Ego mi uidebar unus
Homines beatus inter
Alios beatiores,
Placide in sinu recumbens
Dominae, Ioui nec ipsi
(35) Superis nec inuidebam,
Culices repente cum me
Strepitu molestae et oris
Pupugere telo acuto
Placidumque somnum ocellis

(30) I seemed to myself, alone,
to be a happy man among
men, happier than others,
placidly reclining in the lap
of my lady, nor did I envy
(35) Jupiter himself nor the gods above,
when gnats, suddenly, troublesome
with their buzzing, pricked me with the sharp
weapon of the mouth, and the placid sleep
from my little eyes

(40) Animoque propulere.
Fugit illico Loysa,
Fugiunt rosae et corollae
Violaeque meque rursus
Variis patere curis
(45) Video, Loysa quarum
Mihi caussa fonsque sola est.
Iterum timet repulsam
Animus, focusque in imis
Mihi perfurit medullis,

(40) and from my spirit they drove it away.
Straightway Loysa flees,
the roses and garlands flee
and the violets, and I in turn
I see to lie open to various cares
(45) I see it, Loysa, of which
for me you are the sole cause and fount.
Again my spirit fears repulse,
and the hearth-fire in my deepest marrows
rages furiously within me,

(50) Lacrumisque rursus ora
Gemituque corda turgent.
Culices Dii Deaeque
Faciant perire, somnum
Mihi qui meum abstulerunt,
(55) At enim furens nec ursus,
Leo nec lupusque fatum
Mihi triste praeparabat.
Clytio sed ista lex est
Data, credo, fato ut illi,

(50) And again the faces swell with tears,
and the hearts with groaning.
May the gods and goddesses make the gnats
perish, who have taken away my sleep
from me,
(55) Yet indeed neither a raging bear,
nor lion nor wolf was preparing
a sad fate for me.
But this law has been given
to Clytius by fate, I believe, that to him,

(60) Nec imago falsa somni,
Animum dolore uero
Queat obrutum leuare.
Tamen, o Loysa flaua,
Mihi sola spes amorque es,
(65) Tua prima nostra flama,
Tua et ultima es futura,
Mihi nullus a Loysae
Alius calescet ignis.

(60) Nor can the false image of a dream,
relieve the spirit overwhelmed by true pain,
lift it up.
Yet, O golden-haired Loysa,
you are for me the sole hope and love,
(65) Your flame is our first,
and you too will be the last to be,
for me no fire other than Loysa’s
will grow warm.

AD LOYSAM.

TO LOYSA.

(1) Ecce Cupidines, infelix ardeo flamis
Venit et ex oculis fax mihi prima tuis.
Et iam succensi periissem uiribus ignis,
Visa sed ista fuit poena remissa tibi.
(5) Das lacrumis caussas; si uis me, dura, perire,
Una fuit morti caussa paranda meae;
Qui uenit ex oculis, lacrumis stillantibus, humor
Non sinit accenso pectus ab igne mori,
Sic tamen, ut flamis moderatior ille uicissim

(1) Behold, Cupids, unhappy I burn with flames;
And the first torch came to me from your eyes.
And already I would have perished by the powers of the enkindled fire,
but that punishment seemed to have been remitted by you.
(5) You give causes for tears; if you wish me, hard one, to perish,
one single cause was to be prepared for my death;
the humor which comes from the eyes, with tears dripping,
does not allow the breast to die from the enkindled fire,
thus, however, that in turn it is more moderate to the flames

(10) Non mergat miserum largus in imbre suo.
Viuo igitur spiroque, sed ut sit caussa propinquae
Vita necis, uitae mors quoque caussa meae.
Si uis in cineres me, saeua, uidere redactum,
(Quam tibi, plus certe haec uita molesta mihi est )
(15) Desine suppetias morienti ferre, semelque,
Ne moriar toties me sine ( quaeso ) mori.

(10) Let not that, more moderate to the flames, in turn, drown the wretch in its own copious shower.
I live therefore and I breathe, but in such a way that life is the cause of a near death,
and death too the cause of my life.
If you wish, cruel one, to see me reduced to ashes,
(Than to you, surely this life is more troublesome to me )
(15) Stop bringing aid to a dying man, and once,
Lest I die so many times, allow me ( I beg ) to die.

Quos tamen accusem ? Men' ? qui non pectora ferro
Dilacerem, morti constituamque modum ?
An magis insimulem, qui me succendit, Amorem,

Whom, however, am I to accuse? Myself? that I do not tear my breast with iron,
and fix the term of my death? Or rather should I insimulate Love,
who inflames me,

(20) Qui dedit in uacuo pectore regna tibi ?
Nam te Diuini tutatur gratia uultus,
Absoluuntque ipsis aemula labra rosis.
Hoc tamen admiror, miserum me uiuere posse,
Cuius in exitium est caussa reperta duplex.

(20) Who has given you kingdoms in my empty breast?
For the grace of a divine countenance protects you,
and lips rivaling the roses themselves absolve you.
This, however, I marvel at, that I, wretched, am able to live,
for whose destruction a double cause has been found.

AD LOYSAM

TO LOYSA

(1) Cur immerentem tot misere modis
Vexas, Loysa, et sollicitum rapis
Inter metumque spemque uanam,
Ut cinerem petulante uento ?
(5) Promittis et promissa eadem negas,
Notisque et Euris praecipitas fidem,
Ignara quam furor repente
Fit patientia laesa certus.
Non saeuit ursus dentibus infremens,

(1) Why do you vex the undeserving in so many wretched ways,
Loysa, and snatch the anxious one
between fear and vain hope,
like ash by a petulant wind?
(5) You promise, and the same promises you deny,
and you precipitate your faith to the South and East winds,
unaware how frenzy suddenly
becomes resolute when patience is injured.
No bear, growling with its teeth, rages—

(10) Taurusue solus ? Nempe aquilae Iouis
Hostem in sinu expertae pudendum,
Exagitat furor et columbas.
Nam nec leones soli acuunt graues
Iras in hostem, saepe etiam nimis
(15) Vexata ouis repugnat, et me
Rupta fides toties mouebit.
Tamen nec ausim uerbere, nec manu
Saeuire, nec uim, quam patior, tibi
Inferre, nec comas decentes

(10) Or the bull alone? Surely a shame to Jove’s eagle,
who has found an enemy in her bosom, fury
harasses even the doves.
For not lions alone whet grave
ires against a foe; often even a too-much-
(15) vexed sheep fights back, and broken faith
will move me again and again.
Yet I would not dare with lash, nor with hand,
to be savage, nor to inflict on you the violence
which I suffer, nor your becoming tresses.

(20) Ordine conspicuo mouere.
Haec rusticorum praelia non placent,
Maior mihi uindicta parabitur,
Seri tuum agnoscent nepotes
Ingeniumque fidemque fluxam,
(25) Moresque pulcris dissimiles genis
Scientque uere hoc os roseum tibi
Ab Diis datum esse contegendis
Fraudibus, insidiis dolisque.
Crudelitatem quae taceat tuam

(20) to move from their conspicuous order.
These battles of rustics do not please,
A greater vindicta will be prepared for me,
Your late-born grandchildren will recognize
Your disposition and your fickle faith,
(25) And manners unlike your fair cheeks,
And they will know truly that this rosy face for you
Was given by the Gods for covering
Frauds, insidious ambushes, and tricks;
And to keep silent about your cruelty.

(30) Aetas, meorum conscia carminum,
Quae fundit oppressum dolore
Ingenium sterile, absque uena
Ut nempe famam non pariant mihi
( quod nec laboro ), dedecus attamen
(35) Tibique turpe stigma inurent
Nulla quod eluerit uetustas.

(30) Age, conscious of my songs,
which pours forth a genius oppressed by grief,
sterile, without vein,
so that indeed they may not beget fame for me
( which I do not labor for ), yet a disgrace
(35) and for you a shameful stigma they will brand,
which no antiquity will wash out.

DE LOYSA SPECVLVM INSPICIENTE

ON LOYSA LOOKING INTO A MIRROR

(1) Tristor cum speculum inspicit Loysa,
Nam si quid ualeant sui lepores
Sciat, quos roseis fouet labellis,
Quid uultus faciesque gratiaeque,
(5) Multo durior in dies diesque,
Preces et lacrumas superba spernet,
Nec mortalibus hos suos lepores
Nec uultum faciemque gratiasque
Concedet, Superis dicata tantum.

(1) Loysa grows sadder when she looks into the mirror,
For, if she should know what her charms avail,
Which she cherishes with rosy little lips,
What her countenance and face and Graces are worth,
(5) Much harder with each day, day after day,
Proud, she will spurn prayers and tears,
Nor to mortals will she grant these her charms,
Nor her countenance and face and Graces—
Dedicated to the Supernal Ones only.

(10) Laetor cum speculum inspicit Loysa,
Nempe si reputat suos lepores
Secum, quos roseis fouet labellis,
Si uultum faciemque gratiasque,
Istam duritiem et ferum rigorem
(15) Saeui pectoris expedita spernet,
Ut mens, et facies suauitate
Conspirent simul et pares ferantur.
Sic miser nimis et nimis beatus
Tristor dum speculum inspicit Loysa,

(10) I rejoice when Loysa inspects the mirror,
Indeed, if she reckons her own charms
With herself, which she cherishes with rosy little lips,
If her countenance and face and graces,
That hardness and wild rigor
(15) Of a savage breast, unencumbered, she will spurn,
So that mind and face, with suavity,
May conspire together and be borne as equals.
Thus too wretched and too much blessed
I grow sad while Loysa inspects the mirror,

(20) Laetor dum speculum inspicit Loysa.

(20) I rejoice while Loysa looks into the mirror.

AD HENRICHVM MEVCHENIVM

TO HEINRICH MEUCHENIUS

(1) Sic, Henriche, tibi facilis declaret Apollo
Quaeque sit herba nocens, quaeque sit herba iuuans,
Et tibi demonstret patrias Epidaurius arteis,
Nec uitiet stomachum febris acuta tuum.
(5) Quod morbi genus est Amor ? aut queis pellitur herbis,
Qui mihi tam lento torret in igne iecur ?
Infelix Amor, infelix propriorque furori !
Succuras iam, nec tam mora longa necat.
Iam duo praeteriere anni, iam tertius instat,

(1) Thus, Henry, may gracious Apollo declare to you
which herb is noxious, and which herb is helpful,
and may the Epidaurian show you his native arts,
and may an acute fever not spoil your stomach.
(5) What kind of disease is Love? or by what herbs is he driven out,
he who scorches my liver on so slow a fire?
Unhappy Love, unhappy and nearer to frenzy!
Come to my aid now, nor let so long a delay kill me.
Already two years have passed, now the third is at hand,

(10) Nec meus hic tanto tempore morbus abit.
Quin etiam crescit uiresque adsumit ab ipso
Tempore, nec longa pellitur ille mora.
Quoque magis tegitur, tanto uis aestuat intus
Acrior et caeco pectus in igne coquit.

(10) Nor does this my sickness depart after so long a time.
Nay, it even grows, and assumes strength from time itself,
From time, nor is that malady expelled by a long delay.
And the more it is covered, the more the force seethes within,
sharper, and cooks my breast in a blind fire.

(15) Musasque et studium, quondam gratissima nobis,
Vix mihi nunc aliqua parte placere putes,
Ac adeo sordent, nisi si qua alimenta ministrent
Errori, si non est magis ille furor.
Si quid ago, ut lento subducam pectus amori,

(15) The Muses and study, once most welcome to us,
You would scarcely think now please me in any respect,
And indeed they grow sordid, unless they furnish some aliment
To my error—if that is not rather furor.
If I do anything, it is to withdraw my breast from slow love,

(20) Protinus hinc uires accipit acer Amor.
Sic me Diuini tangit praesentia uultus,
Eius ut absentis fortius igne cremer,
Absentis sic me distringit cura puellae,
Ut praesentis non experiamur opem.
(25) Nunc age quid faciam, uel quo medicamine morbum
Propellam, ex artis dic ratione tuae.
Ipse ego conatus Dominae sum flectere mentem
Obsequio, officiis, integritate, fide,
Sed nihil efficio officiis precibusue fideue,

(20) Straightaway from this keen Love takes strength.
Thus the presence of the Divine countenance touches me,
so that I burn more strongly with fire when she is absent;
thus the care for the absent girl constrains me,
so that we do not experience the aid of the present one.
(25) Now come, what am I to do, or by what medicine shall I drive the disease away?
Tell, according to the rationale of your art.
I myself have tried to bend my Lady’s mind
by compliance, services, integrity, and faith,
but I accomplish nothing by services or prayers or by faith.

(30) Nec moueo uerbis obsequioue meam.
Nunc tu, si qua tibi est nostro medicina dolori
In promptu, huc adsis, auxiliare mihi.
Siue habeas aliquid, Dominae quo forte fauorem
Et studium possis conciliare mihi,
(35) Huc ades et ueteri facilis succure sodali,
Qui me consumit, sic tibi parcat Amor,
Et quae Posteritas nostros cantabit amores,
Audiet ingenio me superasse tuo.
Certe ego quae collata in me benefacta uidebo,

(30) Nor do I move her by words or by obsequious service.
Now you, if there is any medicine for our pain ready at hand for you, be present here, help me.
Whether you have something by which perhaps you can win for me my Lady’s favor
and zeal, come here and readily succor your old companion,
(35) so may Love, who consumes me, spare you;
and Posterity, which will sing our loves,
will hear that I have surpassed myself by your talent.
Surely I, whatever benefactions I shall see conferred upon me,

(40) Non equidem haec uellem dissimulare palam.

(40) Not indeed would I wish to dissimulate these things openly.

HOSPES ET CHLOE

THE STRANGER AND CHLOE

(1) (HOSPES)Quaenam causa genas tibi
Florentes lacrumis occupat et mouet
Tam tristes querimonias ?
An furto pecus, an dente periit lupi ?
(5) Sic ut dura parens tibi
Pulsarit tenerum uerberibus latus,
Quod tu nunc doleas, sub hac
Dum pendent capreae rupe ? quid ingemis ?
Quid suspiria pectore

(1) (HOST)What cause seizes your blooming cheeks
with tears and moves
such sad querimonies?
Did your flock perish by theft, or by the tooth of the wolf?
(5) Or has a hard parent
struck your tender flank with lashes,
for which you now grieve, beneath this
crag while the roe-deer hang? Why do you groan?
Why are there sighs in your breast

(10) Imo lenta trahis, sola sub ilice hac ?
(CHLOE)Nec mi dura parens latus
Pulsauit, neque grex est numero meus
Furto aut dente lupi minor.
Sed longe grauior causa animum quatit,
(15) Quae, sub pectore saeuiens
Me me nocte iubet flere, iubet die.
Id quod continuis genae
Foecundae lacrumis ( ut taceam ) satis
Diuulgant, neque tu meum

(10) Nay, do you draw long-drawn ones, alone beneath this holm-oak?
(CHLOE)Nor has a harsh parent struck my side,
nor is my flock less in number
by theft or by the tooth of a wolf.
But a far graver cause shakes my spirit,
(15) which, raging beneath my breast,
bids me, me to weep by night, bids me by day.
A fact which my cheeks,
fertile with continuous tears (to be silent), sufficiently
divulge, nor do you my—

(20) Speres ulterius nosse malum latens.
(HOSPES) Iam nunc, ut taceas, satis
Per se, uirgo, tui causa patet mali.
Nam ( ni mens mea fallitur )
Qui me uexat amor, te quoque macerat.

(20) Do not hope further to know the hidden ill.
(HOST) Even now, though you keep silent, by itself,
virgin, the cause of your trouble is evident.
For (unless my mind is deceived)
the love that vexes me macerates you as well.

(25) Cuius tu poteris meis
Notam saeuitiemque et solitos dolos
Secure auribus ac fere
Surdis credere. Nam par animum meum
Torquet iam prope tertiam

(25) Of which you will be able, from my own,
to credit the notorious savagery and the accustomed deceits
with ears secure and almost
deaf. For a like one is twisting my mind
already for nearly the third time

(30) Aestatem furor et me mihi surripit.
(CHLOE)Postquam par animum tuum
Urit flama, nec est res noua Amor tibi,
Qui uicta ossa, medullitus
Irrepens, dominis uim rationibus
(35) Affert, imperium occupans,
Hospes, disce mei principium mali :
Exest me Philomusi amor,
Quem, si fata sinant, eripere audeam
Orco, non tamen ille me

(30) Fury snatches away the summer and me from myself.
(CHLOE) Since an equal flame burns your spirit,
and Love is no new thing to you,
who, creeping marrow-deep into conquered bones,
brings violence to their masters’ reasons, seizing dominion,
(35) Guest, learn the beginning of my mischief:
the love of Philomusus eats me out,
whom, if the fates allow, I would dare to snatch from Orcus,
yet not he me

(40) Curat, nec Veneris numine ducitur.
(HOSPES) O crudum ingenium uiri !
Quaenam barbaries hunc aluit Chloen
Qui uidit, neque protinus
Admisit Cypriam pectoribus facem ?
(45) Nimirum Veneri placet
Discordes animos nectere amoribus.
Sic me, sic quoque negligit
Vitae uita meae, flaua Loysa, quae
Nec flecti precibus meis,

(40) He does not care, nor is he led by the numen of Venus.
(HOSPES) O raw temperament of the man!
What barbarity ever nourished this fellow who saw Chloe,
and did not straightway admit the Cyprian torch to his breast ?
(45) Clearly it pleases Venus
to bind discordant souls with loves.
Thus me, thus too neglects
the life of my life, blonde Loysa, who
cannot be bent by my prayers,

(50) Nec rupto gemitu, nec lacrumis potest.
(CHLOE)Sic me ( me miseram ! ) tenet
Totam me ille, nec est lenior aut mari,
Aut istis scopulis, sed hac
Sub qua constitimus, durior ilice;
(55) Me serpente magis fugit,
Nec flecti lacrumis, nec gemitu Chloes,
Nec grato obsequio potest.
Et ( quod plus cruciat ) nescio quae ( malum )
Felix sidere prospero

(50) Neither by a broken groan, nor by tears can she be moved.
(CHLOE)Thus he holds me ( me wretched ! )
He holds me entire, nor is he gentler either than the sea,
or than those crags, but than this
ilex under which we have taken our stand, harder;
(55) He flees me more than a serpent,
nor can he be bent by the tears, nor by the groan, of Chloe,
nor by gracious compliance can he be.
And ( which torments more ) some I-know-not-what ( plague )
fortunate with a prosperous star

(60) Non hunc, sed potius me, mihi detinet.
(HOSPES) Quaenam detineat tuum
Vel, si uis, tibi te foemina pulcrior ?
Quando forma tibi tua est
Cum qua non dubitet Iuppiter aureus
(65) Mutasse aut Danaen suam
Aut quam sub niueo luserat alite ?
Sic splendent roseae genae,
Sic acres oculi sideribus pares
Flauentesque comae, quibus

(60) She does not hold him, but rather keeps me to myself.
(HOSPES) What woman, pray, more beautiful, would detain what is yours—
Or, if you will, keep you for yourself?
Since your beauty is your own,
With which golden Jupiter would not hesitate
(65) To have exchanged even his Danaë,
Or her with whom he sported beneath the snowy bird?
Thus your rosy cheeks shine,
Thus your keen eyes, equal to the stars,
And your golden tresses, with which

(70) Mens deuincta, uelut compede, langueat.
(CHLOE)Non istis placeo mihi
Vanis laudibus, aut his cupiam modis
Deuinxisse animum mei
Ingrati Philomusi, una fides mea
(75) Inconcussa merebitur
Ut tandem iecur efferueat ignibus
Illius paribus. Licet
(Ut uerum fatear ) spem tenuem mihi
Mores illius asperi

(70) by which a mind, bound as if by a fetter, may languish.
(CHLOE)I do not please myself with those vain praises, nor do I wish by these modes
to have bound the spirit of my ungrateful Philomusus; my one faith,
unshaken, will deserve that at length his liver boil with fires
equal to mine. Although (to speak the truth) a slight hope for me
his harsh manners

(80) Linquant et nimis ( ah ! ) grata superbia.
(HOSPES) Quamquam tu pecoris tui
Custos dissimules et genus et domum,
Neglecto hoc habitu, tamen
Res ipsa eloquitur, pulcra Chloe, satis
(85) Te uel semideam, uel his
Nympham montibus, aut huic nemori Deam
Conficto tibi nomine
Abscondisse Chloes, ingenium sacrum.
Sic nam uerba fluunt tibi,

(80) Let even ( ah ! ) the too-pleasing pride fall away.
(HOSPES) Although you disguise yourself as the custodian of your flock,
and your genus and home,
with this neglected attire, nevertheless
the thing itself speaks out, fair Chloe, sufficiently
(85) that you have hidden either a demi-goddess, or for these
mountains a nymph, or for this grove a goddess,
with a fabricated name for yourself—
Chloe— a sacred genius.
For thus words flow to you,

(90) Cum tu de teneris dicis amoribus.
(CHLOE)Non sum Nympha, nec est mihi,
Ne te decipiat error inutilis,
Humano genus altius.
Sed si de teneris composite loquor
(95) (Ut uis hospes ) amoribus,
Versus dictat Amor composite mihi.
Sic saepe hi scopuli, hoc nemus
Nostris carminibus uel gemitu sonant :
Siue hymnum Veneri canam,

(90) Since you speak of tender loves.
(CHLOE) I am not a Nymph, nor do I have,
lest a useless error deceive you,
a lineage higher than human.
But if I speak in a well-composed way about tender
(95) (as you wish, guest) loves,
Love dictates verses to me in a well-composed way.
Thus often these crags, this grove
resound with our songs, or with a groan :
Whether I sing a hymn to Venus,

(100) Seu dicam Philomusi ingenium ferox.
(HOSPES) Nunc ( o pulcra Chloe ) uelim
Postquam nec mea flaua Loysa, nec
Te curat tuus improbus,
Mutatis penitus conditionibus,
(105) Nos uri face mutua,
Ut me pulcra Chloe spectet, ego Chloen.
Nam cur ulterius iuuet
Ingratis adeo pectoribus fidem
Seruare et stabilem et ratam ?

(100) Or if I speak of Philomusus’s ferocious genius.
(GUEST) Now (O fair Chloe) I would wish,
since neither my blond Loysa nor
does your shameless one care for you,
with the terms entirely changed,
(105) that we be burned by a mutual torch,
so that fair Chloe may look upon me, and I upon Chloe.
For why should it any longer please
to preserve faith, both stable and ratified,
for hearts so ingrate?

(110) Nec gratum id Veneri est, nec Superis placet.
(CHLOE)Quamquam nata humili loco
(O hospes ) pecudes pascam et alam gregem,
Ne speres animum tamen
Nostrum abducere, nec flectere mollibus
(115) Verbis. Dii propius meis
Cras, si non hodie, forte caloribus
Fautores aderunt et hanc
Indignam Philomuso excutient meo
Tandem saeuitiem. Preces

(110) Nor is that pleasing to Venus, nor does it please the Supernals.
(CHLOE)Although born in a humble place
(O guest ) I pasture the cattle and I nourish the flock,
Do not hope, however,
to lead away our spirit, nor to bend it with soft
(115) words. The gods, nearer to my
ardors, tomorrow, if not today, perhaps,
as favorers will be present, and this
savagery unworthy of my Philomusus
they will at last shake off. Prayers

(120) Pondus cum lacrumis forte habeant suum.
(HOSPES) O pulcram haud dubie fidem !
Et pectus tenerum propositi tenax !
Seruabo ergo fidem meae,
Quamquam dura preces et lacrumas Notis
(125) Tradat per mare spargere.
Nil non longa dies efficit et labor
Et pectus patiens morae,
Si nil artibus his efficiam, tamen
Non me dedecet immori

(120) Perhaps prayers, together with tears, have their own weight.
(GUEST) O undeniably fair fidelity !
And a tender heart, tenacious of purpose !
Therefore I will keep faith with my own,
Although the hard one consigns prayers and tears to the South Winds
(125) to be scattered across the sea.
There is nothing that long time and labor do not effect
And a heart patient of delay,
If by these arts I effect nothing, nevertheless
It does not disgrace me to die in the attempt

(130) Constanti iuuenem pectore amoribus.
(CHLOE)Praeceps ecce fugit dies
Maioresque cadunt montibus arduis
Umbrae, lucidus Hesperus
Iam nos diuidit ac ire domum monet.
(135) Verum tu interea uale,
Et, si quando tibi Dii faciles dabunt
Optatum hisce laboribus
Finem, tunc Philomusi memor et Chloes,
Dic : ut nunc mea me tenet,

(130) for a young man to die in love with a steadfast breast.
(CHLOE)Headlong, look, the day flees
and greater shadows fall from the steep mountains;
bright Hesperus now separates us and advises to go home.
(135) But do you meanwhile farewell,
and, if ever the Gods, gracious, will grant
to these labors the desired end,
then, mindful of Philomusus and of Chloe,
say: as now my resolve holds me,

(140) Sic (o Dii ) teneat fida Chloe suum.

(140) Thus (o Gods ) may faithful Chloe keep her own.

AD LOYSAM

TO LOYSA

(1) Sed quid, Loysa o, quid tibi conferam,
Ut me uicissim mente, oculis feras,
Amesque ? quid dabo, o Loysa,
Praesidiumque decusque nostrum ?
(5) Fidele firmis pectus amoribus
Mentemque nulla suppositam face,
Quam quae uenit tuis ocellis
Et penitus mihi cor adurit,
Carmenque cuius munere Posteri

(1) But what, O Loysa, what shall I confer upon you,
That you in turn may bear me in mind and in your eyes,
and love me ? what shall I give, O Loysa,
our protection and our ornament?
(5) A faithful breast in steadfast loves
and a mind subjected to no torch,
save that which comes from your little eyes
and burns my heart deep within,
and a song, by whose gift Posterity

(10) Nostros amores concelebrent. Grauis
Obliuio incumbit Poetis
Qui numeris caruere sanctis.
Repit senectus inuida gloriae,
Delet triumphos, marmora diruit :
(15) Magni Philippi non manebit
Post cineres decus absque uate.
O me beatum ter quater et magis,
Si quae Latino praedico carmine,
Tuis fluant futura grata

(10) May our loves be co-celebrated by Posterity.
Grave Oblivion leans upon Poets
who were without the sacred numbers.
Old age creeps, envious of glory,
it deletes triumphs, it lays low the marbles:
(15) of great Philip no honor will remain
after the ashes without a vates.
O me blessed thrice, four times, and more,
if the things which I proclaim in Latin song
may in the future flow pleasing to yours

(20) Auribus, o mea lux Loysa !
O te beatam ter quater et magis,
Cuius Latino carmine gratias
Formamque uirtutemque late
Praedico Posteritati amicae !
(25) Uterque nostrum uiuet et inuidi
Vitabit audax spicula temporis,
Cuius chelys nostra atque uirtus
Sola aciem tua non timebit.

(20) To your ears, O my light, Loysa!
O you blessed thrice, four times, and more,
of whom, with Latin carmen, the graces,
and form and virtue I proclaim widely
to friendly Posterity!
(25) Each of us will live, and, bold, will avoid
the darts of envious Time,
whose lyre and our virtue
alone will not fear your edge.

AD LOYSAM AEGROTANTEM

TO LOYSA AILING

(1) Cur tu, dura Loysa, meos contemnis amores
Et rides siccis me lacrumante genis ?
Exegit Nemesis, quas non desidero poenas,
Et formam febri sustulit illa tibi.
(5) Sic ego, qui laetos agitabam mente Hymenaeos,
Scripsi pro thalamo poene tibi tumulum.

(1) Why do you, harsh Loysa, contemn my amours,
and laugh with dry cheeks, while my cheeks are weeping?
Nemesis has exacted penalties which I do not desire,
and she has taken away your form with a fever.
(5) Thus I, who was tossing in mind glad hymeneals,
wrote for you, instead of a bridal chamber, almost a tomb.

DOLET ABSENTEM AMICAM

HE GRIEVES FOR HIS ABSENT MISTRESS

(1) Ite, leues Elegi, quondam mea cura, ualete,
Non ego, iam uobis utar, ut ante, magis.
Ite, alium posthac desertae quaerite uatem,
Non facit ad lacrumas carmen inane meas,
(5) Nec uacat ad fontes teneras deducere Musas,
Postquam sollicito est perdita uita mihi.
Illa habet ingenium secum tantumque relicta est
Umbra domi, potior pars mei ab urbe procul.
Corpus in urbe manet, placidis mens errat in agris

(1) Go, light Elegies, once my care, farewell,
I will not now make use of you, as before, any more.
Go, hereafter seek another vates, you abandoned ones,
An empty song does not suit my tears,
(5) Nor is there leisure to lead the tender Muses down to the springs,
Since my life has been undone for me in solicitude.
She has my genius with her, and only a shadow is left
At home; the better part of me is far from the city.
My body remains in the city; my mind wanders in the peaceful fields.

(10) Venturae et Dominae florea serta parat.
Serta placent Dominae uiuos imitata colores,
Candida cum rubeis lilia mixta rosis.
Purpurei flores Dominae sunt aemula labris
Signa, labris quae sunt tam bene pressa meis.

(10) He prepares flowery garlands for Ventura and for the Lady.
Garlands please the Lady, imitating living colors,
White lilies mixed with ruby-red roses.
Purpurean flowers are emulous of the Lady’s lips
Signs, which have been so well pressed by my lips.

(15) Sed qui, uos etiam tam candida lilia finxit,
Exemplum a Domina sumpserit ille mea.
Viderat ille equidem niue candidiora recenti
Aut colla aut digitos, flaua Loysa, tuos.
Floris gratus odor rosei gratissimus usque est

(15) But he who even fashioned you lilies so white,
let him have taken his exemplar from my Lady.
Indeed he had seen, whiter than fresh snow,
either your neck or your fingers, golden‑haired Loysa, yours.
The pleasing odor of the rosy flower is ever most pleasing

(20) Oris odor nobis, pulcra Loysa, tui.
Quam bene conuenient Dominae, cum pulcra decenti
Imponet capiti serta rosasque manu ?
Sed quid stultus ago ? nimium distamus ab illa,
Et mentem uariis ludit imago modis.
(25) O Superi (si quid uos tangunt uota precesque)
Iam tandem lacrumis sit modus, oro, meis.

(20) The scent of your mouth, fair Loysa, to us.
How well they will suit the Lady, when the fair one will set
garlands upon her becoming head and roses with her hand?
But what am I doing, foolish? we are far too distant from her,
and the image plays with my mind in various modes.
(25) O Gods Above (if vows and prayers touch you at all)
now at length let there be a measure to my tears, I beseech.

Vel si nec modus est lacrumis, nec murmure flecti
Vos sinitis, uitae sit modus, oro, meae.
Viuere namque mihi Domina sine, uiuere non est.

Or if there is no measure to my tears, nor by murmur to be moved
you allow, let there be a measure, I pray, to my life.
For, to me, to live without my Lady is not to live.

(30) Illa mihi uitae est unica caussa meae.
Praesentem facias, nihil in me fata ualebunt,
Absit, opem mihi nec Iuppiter ipse ferat.
Id satis expertus nuper, quando illa reuersa
Restituit uires ingeniumque mihi.

(30) She is the sole cause of my life for me.
Make her present, the Fates will have no power over me,
If—heaven forbid—she be absent, not even Jupiter himself could bring me aid.
This I have sufficiently proved of late, when she, returned,
restored to me my strength and my genius.

(35) Mors prope nigranti caput hoc immerserat Orco
Curaque erat tumuli iam quasi facta mei,
Caussa mali morbus morbique absentia nostrae
Longa fuit Dominae, tam grauis illa mihi est.
Signaram tabulis mentem supremaque uerba

(35) Death had almost plunged this head into black Orcus
And the care for my tomb was already as if accomplished,
The cause of my ill was a morbid sickness and the long absence
Of my Lady—so weighty is she to me.
I had sealed on tablets my intent and my last words

(40) Condideram chartis firma futura suis.
Ecce uenit, quae caussa mali tantique doloris
Ante erat, et uita est facta salusque mihi.
Nam simul ac conspecta mihi est oculisque tenebras
Discussit circum perniciemque mihi,
(45) Illicet, infernis tanquam reuocatus ab undis,
Disieci mortis proxima tela mihi.

(40) I had consigned to the papers themselves the things to be made firm.
Lo, she comes, who before was the cause of my evil and of so great grief,
and she has been made life and salvation for me.
For as soon as she was seen by me and with her eyes scattered
the darkness around and the pernicious doom for me,
(45) Straightway, as if recalled from the infernal waves,
I scattered the nearest darts of death from me.

Et mea uenisti tandem, mea sola uoluptas ?
Inquam, iam uitae es caussa secunda meae.
Nec mora uis membris animoque est addita uirtus,

And have you come at last, my sole pleasure ?
I say, now you are the second cause of my life.
Nor was there delay: force was added to my limbs, and virtue to my spirit,

(50) Quae nunc, ecce, nouis prope mersa malis.
Sed uos, o Superi, si non haec ultima uitae
Tempora sunt, uitae me date quaeso meae.
At si nostra dies dudum praefixa reluxit
Et mergi infernis debeo moestus aquis,
(55) Illa, precor, uiuat felix, non immemor unquam
Nostri et quam fuerim fidus ubique sciat.
Et cum mens abiit parsque haec imposta sepulcro est,
Signentur magnis carmina bina notis :
Qui iacet hic, primae discessit flore iuuentae,

(50) Which now, behold, is nearly submerged by new evils.
But you, O Supernal Ones, if these are not the last
times of life, grant me, I beg, to my life.
But if our day long since pre-fixed has shone again
and I, mournful, must be plunged in infernal waters,
(55) may she, I pray, live happy, never unmindful
of me, and let her everywhere know how faithful I have been.
And when mind has departed and this part has been laid upon the sepulcher,
let two verses be marked with great letters:
He who lies here departed in the flower of earliest youth,

(60) Absentis Dominae non tulit ille moram.

(60) He did not brook the delay of the absent Lady.

EPITHALAMIVM

EPITHALAMIUM

(1) Tandem beatis perfruor osculis,
Tandem cupitis brachia nexibus
Circum caput duco Loysae,
Circum humeros et amica colla.
(5) Non tam tenaci stringitur aesculus
Annosa circumuincta hedera nec in
Virente lenta uitis ulmo
Tam bene brachia lassa ponit :
Quam nos uicissim mutua mutuis

(1) At last I fully enjoy blessed kisses,
At last with longed-for interlacings I draw my arms
Around the head of Loysa,
Around the shoulders and the loving neck.
(5) Not so tenaciously is the oak clasped,
Encircled by age-old ivy, nor on
The verdant elm does the pliant vine
So well lay down its weary arms:
As we in turn, mutual to mutual.

(10) Ligamus arcte brachia nexibus,
Non inquieti, siue Princeps
In Frisiis superetur oris,
Siue impotenti pressa tyrannide
Late in Brabantis occupet oppida,
(15) Nostro beati amore, nostra
Sorte nihil magis appetentes.
Caelo minantes ille struit domos
Viuoque ducit marmore imagines
Quae fronte declarent in ipsa

(10) We tightly bind our arms in embraces,
Not disquieted, whether the Prince
on the Frisian shores be overcome,
or, pressed by unbridled tyranny,
he widely seize towns in Brabant,
(15) blessed by our love, desiring nothing
more than our lot.
He builds houses menacing the sky,
and draws forth images from living marble
which in their very brow proclaim

(20) Et genus et titulos auorum.
Raptus profanis ambitionibus
Hic largiens suffragia comparat
Vulgique uenatur fauorem
Et studium popularis aurae.
(25) Pugnacis alter Martis, inutilis
Paci, tubarum concrepitu excitus
Caedes superbus, et ruinas
Spirat et indomitum furorem.
Est qui paternas insipiens opes

(20) Both the lineage and the titles of his forefathers.
Seized by profane ambitions,
this one, by largessing, procures suffrages,
and hunts the favor of the vulgar
and the zeal of the popular aura.
(25) Another, of pugnacious Mars, useless
to Peace, roused by the blare of trumpets,
proud, breathes slaughters and ruins
and indomitable fury.
There is one who, foolish, the paternal wealth

(30) Expatret, est qui sordeat et bonis
Non ausit uti, uterque sane
Non uitio sine, cum labore.
Nituntur ergo nec studio pares,
Inexpedito tramite et aspero
(35) Nec fine concordes, sed omnes
A posita sibi meta aberrant.
Moles struentem mors grauis occupat,
Bellumque sane plenum opus aleae est
Periculosae, non auarus

(30) he expatriates them; there is one who is sordid and does not
dare to use his goods; each indeed not without vice, and with toil.
They strive therefore, not equal in zeal,
on an impeded and rough path;
(35) nor concordant in their end, but all
aberrate from the goal set for themselves.
Grave death seizes the one constructing a mass,
and war indeed is a work full of the aleatory hazard
of peril, not the miser

(40) Sed neque sordidus est beatus.
Horum nihil me commouet interim,
Tutusque fasces despicio ac opes,
Musarum alumnus, de rebelli
Virgine iam statuens trophaeum.
(45) Quae pertinaci continuis tribus
Annis repugnans mente, quibus modis
Experta Gisleni fidemque est
Et patientem animum repulsae ?
Dum nunc parentum dissidiis negat,

(40) But neither is the sordid man blessed.
None of these moves me meanwhile,
and, secure, I despise the fasces and wealth,
an alumnus of the Muses, already setting up a trophy
over the rebellious virgin.
(45) Who, pertinacious, for three continuous
years resisting in mind, by what ways
has she tested Gislenus’s faith
and his patient spirit under rebuff?
While now she refuses on account of her parents’ dissensions,

(50) Se posse de se cernere libere,
Confessa sese intus tamen non
Feruere languidiore flama.
Nunc fluctuantes imperio timet
(Qui mos puellis est) patruos, nihil
(55) Commota constanti labore
Nil lacrumis precibusque nostris.
Idemque hic inter spem tenor et metum,
Mansit, Loysae non dubium artibus,
Donec Deum fauore tandem

(50) She confessed that she could judge concerning herself freely,
yet that within she did not seethe with a more languid flame.
Now she fears uncles wavering in their authority (Which is the custom with girls),
(55) Moved not at all by our constant labor,
Nothing by our tears and prayers.
And the same tenor here between hope and fear
remained, not doubtful, thanks to Loysa’s arts,
until at last by the favor of God

(60) Lux mihi candidior refulsit.
Quae tot malorum congeriem suo
Splendore soluit, tam uarios metus
Spe diffugauit et puellae
Cor tenebris mihi liberauit.
(65) Sic ut mearum sollicitudinum
Iam certa, firmam mi dederit fidem,
Nil, matre nobis adfauente
Ulterius patruos morata.
Ac aemulorum despiciens minas,

(60) A more radiant light shone back for me.
Which dissolved the congeries of so many evils by its
own splendor, so many-varied fears
by Hope it dispersed and freed for me
the girl’s heart from darkness.
(65) Thus that, now certain of my solicitudes,
she has given me firm faith,
with the mother favoring us, no
longer delaying the uncles.
And, despising the threats of rivals,

(70) Queis displicebat mutuus hic amor,
Vanos timores spemque inanem
Ponere me pudibunda iussit.
Inserta tandem dextera dexterae,
Datumque amoris symbolon et sacro
(75) Tandem sacramento est probata
Rite fides ab utroque nostrum.
Quae mente tum non gaudia contuli ?
Queis non Loysam laudibus extuli ?
Doctam pari, pares calores,

(70) To those by whom this mutual love was displeasing,
she, modest, bade me to put down vain fears and empty hope.
Inserta at last the right hand to the right hand,
and the symbol of love given, and by a sacred
(75) sacrament at last our pledge was approved
duly by each of us.
What joys did I not then gather in my mind?
With what praises did I not extol Loysa?
Learned to be equal, with equal ardors,

(80) Pascere non trepide fauilla ?
Nunc grata tandem, grata pericula
Grati labores et lacrumae, quibus
Fluxisse tam genas frequenter
Et memini et meminisse dulce est;
(85) Nunc nunc pudicis carminibus iuuat
Mecum labores tam bene creditos
Euoluere et curas edaces
Perlegere et uarias querelas.
Nobis quid usquam est absque laboribus

(80) To feed unafraid on the ember?
Now welcome at last, welcome perils,
welcome labors and tears, by which
my cheeks have so often flowed,
and I both remember, and to remember is sweet;
(85) Now, now it pleases with chaste songs
to unroll with me the labors so well entrusted,
to peruse the edacious cares
and the various complaints.
What anywhere is there for us without labors

(90) A Diis relictum ? Quid sine praeuio
Sudore speremus ? Labores
Herculei meruere caelum.
Virtute clarent, quos ueterum canunt
Musae, decusque et posthuma gloria
(95) Laborque prorepunt et uno
Mox uigilantia iuncta passu.
Mihi labores et studium et graues
Curae beatis ignibus et frui
Desiderato amore tandem

(90) Abandoned by the gods? What should we hope for without preliminary
sweat? Herculean labors merited heaven.
They shine with virtue, those whom the Muses of the ancients
sing, and honor and posthumous glory
(95) and toil advance, and soon, joined in one step,
vigilance as well. For me, labors and application and heavy
cares—to enjoy blessed fires and at last
the longed-for love.

(100) Cortewilae dederunt rebellis.
Quid ? quod labores atque pericula
Grati saporis gaudia condiunt
Fere paratu ? Obscuriorque est
Ex facili titulus duello ?
(105) Laboriosi industria quid mei
Solius haec quod praelia uicerit ?
Nullo recepto tam prementis
Nec duce nec socio pericli ?
Partem triumphi militis occupat

(100) At Cortewila the rebels surrendered.
What? that labors and perils
season the joys with a pleasing savor
almost by the very preparation? And is the title
from an easy duel more obscure?
(105) What of the industry of my laborious self,
that alone it has conquered these battles?
With no leader received, nor ally, for so
pressing a peril?
It seizes a part of a soldier’s triumph

(110) Plerumque uirtus in dubia alea
Martis, sed in meo triumpho
Gloria tota mihi relicta est.
Me nempe solo militiae duce,
Solo tribuno et milite uicimus,
(115) Nec ulla debetur subactae
Laus aliis uel honos puellae.
Adesto, Iuno pronuba, ades, Venus,
Felixque castis auspicium date
Toris et ab lecto fugate

(110) For the most part virtue lies in the doubtful hazard
of Mars; but in my triumph
the whole glory has been left to me.
With me indeed as the sole leader of the campaign,
as the sole tribune and soldier, we have conquered,
(115) Nor is any praise owed for the subdued
girl to others, nor any honor.
Be present, Juno Pronuba, be present, Venus,
and grant a happy auspice to chaste
marriage-beds, and from the bed drive away

(120) Dissidium procul et dolores.
Viden' Loysae quam uarius color
Genas respergat ! nunc ebure et niue,
Nunc purpura rosisque, casti
Indicio haud dubio pudoris !
(125) Timere, Virgo, desine, desine,
Maturior te consociet uiro
Aetas, nec ad matrem reflecte
Stulta oculos lacrumis grauatos.
Et gratulantum turba mihi fauet,

(120) Let dissension far away, and pains.
Do you see how various a color sprinkles Loysa’s
cheeks? now of ivory and snow,
now of purple and roses, by no doubtful token
of chaste modesty!
(125) Cease to fear, Maiden, cease, cease,
let maturer Age associate you with a husband,
and do not turn back to your mother,
foolish one, your eyes weighed down with tears.
And the crowd of well-wishers favors me,

(130) Maiorque noctis portio transiit,
Lassique dissoluunt choraeas
Virginibus iuuenes relictis.
Sed quos senectus iam grauior uetat
Saltare, uino turba madens domum
(135) Contendit ire nosque solos
Linquere uelle mihi uidentur.
Quis ille, qui te sanguine proximus
Attingit ? ille hic, cui rutilas faces
Praefert puer, serto fluentem

(130) And the greater portion of the night has passed,
and, weary, they dissolve the choruses,
with the maidens left behind by the youths.
But those whom a rather weighty old age now forbids
to dance, the crowd soaked with wine hastens home,
(135) to strive to go and they seem to me
to want to leave us alone.
Who is that one, who nearest in blood
touches you? that one here, for whom the boy bears
the ruddy torches, streaming with a garland.

(140) Caesariem roseo reuinctus ?
Agnosco morem iam patruum, uenit
Ad te citatis gressibus, ut mihi
Tradat fruendam, sed supremam
Arte prius choream praeibit.
(145) Audin' puellas ultimo in angulo
Ridere ? Quam sese cupiant uices
Taleis obire ! Sed tamen tu
Parce precor lacrumis, Loysa.
Iam turba cedit densior ac fores

(140) His hair wreathed with a rosy garland?
I recognize now my paternal uncle’s custom; he comes
to you with quickened steps, to hand you over to me
for fruition, but first, with art, he will lead
the final choral dance.
(145) Do you hear the girls in the farthest corner
laughing? How they long to undergo by turns
such roles! But yet you,
spare, I pray, the tears, Loysa.
Now the denser crowd gives way and the doors

(150) Spectat; quietem nox aliis parat.
Mihi tibique mille risus,
Mille iocos facilesque lusus.
Quae bella uel quae praelia inibimus ?
Sed heus ! Amicis nox tenebris teget,
(155) Si quae uetat dici Loysae
Ora pudor minio colorans.

(150) She watches; night prepares repose for others.
For me and for you a thousand laughs,
a thousand jests and easy pastimes.
What wars or what battles shall we enter upon?
But hey! Night will cover with friendly darkness,
(155) if there are any things which modesty,
coloring the cheeks with vermilion, forbids to be said to Loysa.

Quid erubescis uirgineum decus
Tremisue ? Quod si cum tunica uelis
Seponere innatum pudorem,

Why do you blush, virginal grace,
or do you tremble? But if you should wish, along with your tunic,
to set aside inborn modesty,

(160) Cras bene cum tunica resumes.
O qui labores ! quis fluor artubus
Ibit solutis, dum uariis modis
Luctamur et dulcem iugalis
Militiam Veneris nouamus.
(165) Putasne conchas oscula strictius
Inexplicatis nectere uinculis ?
Putasne tot dulces columbas
Posse modis uariare miris ?
O quae Loysae balsama sugimus

(160) Tomorrow you will well resume with the tunic.
O what labors! what flow through loosened limbs
will go, while in various modes
we wrestle and renew the sweet conjugal
militia of Venus.
(165) Do you think kisses can bind shells more tightly
with inextricable bonds?
Do you think so many sweet doves
can vary in wondrous modes?
O what balsams of Loysa we draw

(170) Ex ore ? quale o nectar in illius
Natat fluitque cum suaui
Ambrosia roseis labellis ?
Non tale primo uere legunt apes
Circumuolantes omnia sedulae
(175) Mel, roris in noui respersis
Floribus aethereo liquore.
Quam dulce post haec praelia languidos
Claudens ocellos somnus erit modum
Iocis daturus risuique,

(170) From the mouth? O what nectar in that one’s
floats and flows with sweet
Ambrosia on rosy little lips?
Not such, in earliest spring, do the bees gather,
busy, flying around everything,
(175) honey, from flowers sprinkled
with the new dew, with ethereal liquid.
How sweet after these battles sleep will be,
closing the languid little eyes, about to give a measure
to jests and to laughter,

(180) Quam facilis tibique gratus !
Tum me reclinans in Dominae sinum
Iubebo tristeis, pondus inutile
Durumque, curas exsulare
Corde meo atque meae Loysae.
(185) Illae recedent ac alio statim
Sese reflectent, Principis et domum,
Pectusque uel Regis Philippi
Hospitiis animum occupabunt.
Sed quae strepentum turba fores quatit ?

(180) How easy and welcome to you!
Then, reclining me in my Lady’s bosom,
I will bid the sad cares, a useless and hard burden,
to go into exile from my heart and from my Loysa’s.
(185) Those will withdraw and straightway turn themselves elsewhere,
to the house of the Prince, and
the breast, or even the mind, of King Philip
they will occupy with hospitalities.
But what throng of clatterers is shaking the doors?

(190) Primique nobis ludicra somnii
Abrumpit et quae nox suauis
Ludit imagine bella falsa ?
Videsne ruptis ut foribus ruant ?
Densique circum se glomerent torum ?
(195) Nectarque propinent, peracti,
Dulce refrigerium laboris ?
Sed tu, quid iniecta faciem tegis
Manu Loysa o ? Non periit color
Sed est adauctus pulcriorque es

(190) And do the first playthings of sleep
break off for us—and the sham-wars
which sweet night plays with in image?
Do you see how, the doors burst, they rush in,
and in dense throngs they mass themselves around the bed?
(195) And do they pledge nectar,
a sweet refreshment of labor accomplished?
But you—why do you cover your face
with a hand flung over it, O Loysa? Your color has not perished,
but is augmented, and you are fairer.

(200) Iam mulier modo quam puella.
Mox quando Phoebi clara soror suum
Nouarit effulgens nouies iubar
Futura mater et pudoris
Virginei exhibitura pignus.
(205) Quod si patris sexum referat, statim
Primis ab annis instituens, sacris
Musis dicabo barbitoque
Nec cythara patiar carere.
Sed si puellam Dii dederint tibi,

(200) Now a woman, who just now was a girl.
Soon, when the bright sister of Phoebus,
shining, shall have shone forth her own radiance nine times,
you will be a mother, and will exhibit the pledge
of virginal modesty.
(205) But if the sex of the father it should bear, straightway,
training him from his earliest years, to the sacred
Muses I will dedicate him and to the barbitos,
nor will I allow him to be without a cithara.
But if the gods shall have given you a girl,

(210) Curabis ut te moribus et sacro
Pudore praeferat grauique
Frontis honore modestiaeque.

(210) You will take care that she bear herself with mores and sacred
Pudor, and with the grave honor of the Brow and of modesty.

AD HENRICHVM MEVCHENIVM

TO HENRICHUS MEUCHENIUS

(1) Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.
Illa triennali inconcussa labore Loysa,
Collo sponte auidas iniicit ecce manus.
(5) Quaeque meos quondam solita est contemnere amores,
Despiciens nostras improba saepe preces,
Pendet ab ore sui tandem non dura mariti,
Commota ingenii simplicitate mei,
Et quam me duris agitauerat ante periclis,

(1) Wreathe your Poet with victorious laurel, Henry;
Lo, golden-haired Loysa lies in my bosom.
That Loysa, unshaken by triennial labor,
look, of her own accord casts eager hands upon my neck.
(5) And she who once was accustomed to contemn my loves,
the shameless one, often despising our prayers,
hangs from the lips of her own husband at last, no longer hard,
moved by the simplicity of my genius,
and she who had driven me before with harsh perils,

(10) Tam nunc me facili commoditate fouet.
Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.
Continuo studio mortalibus omnia cedunt,
Sique enitamur nos iuuat ipse Deus.
(15) Cum primum conspecta mihi est mea cura Loysa,
Pulcra oculos, humeros lata, comasque decens,
Sola suae matris proles ac unica cura,
(Ut memini) in dubio mens mea tota fuit :
Auderemne, fauente Cupidine, nectere amores

(10) So now she cherishes me with ready convenience.
Gird your Poet with victorious laurel, Henriche,
Lo, golden-haired Loysa lies in my bosom.
By continuous zeal all things yield to mortals,
and if we strive, God himself helps us.
(15) When first my darling Loysa was seen by me,
fair in eyes, broad of shoulders, and comely in her locks,
the sole offspring of her mother and her unique care,
(As I recall) my whole mind was in doubt :
Would I dare, with Cupid favoring, to bind our loves

(20) Et dubiae Veneris castra fidemque sequi;
Ipsa Venus tentare iubet, iubet ipse Cupido,
Iungens humanis numina saepe toris.
Iuppiter in Danaen, in Daphnen pulcer Apollo,
Declinat posito numine uterque Deus.
(25) Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.

(20) And to follow the camp and allegiance of uncertain Venus;
Venus herself bids me to attempt it, Cupid himself bids it,
often joining divinities to human marriage-beds.
Jupiter to Danae, to Daphne handsome Apollo,
each god inclines, his divinity set aside.
(25) Wreathe your Poet with victorious laurel, Henry,
Lo, blonde Loysa lies in our bosom.

Illa mihi primum facili candore placebat
Promittens oculis omnia laeta suis.
Sic prope fallaci piscis deluditur hamo

She at first pleased me with easy candor,
promising with her eyes all glad things.
Thus, close by, the fish is deluded by the fallacious hook

(30) Letalesque auido deuorat ore cibos.
Sic ego spe uana primum ducebar et ibam
Captiuus Dominae praeda iocusque meae,
Donec uicta sui tandem constantia amantis
Mutauit mentem nostra Loysa suam.
(35) Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.

(30) and with an avid mouth he devours lethal foods.
Thus I too at first was led by vain hope and went,
a captive, the prey and plaything of my Lady,
until, her self-command overcome at last by the constancy of the lover,
our Loysa changed her mind.
(35) Gird your Poet with the conquering laurel, Henry,
behold, flaxen-haired Loysa lies in our bosom.

Quae sibi saeuitiam male respondere putauit
Indignamque rata est moribus esse suis.
Quod simul ac sensi mecum : Bone Iuppiter (inquam)

She thought that savagery responded badly for herself
and deemed it unworthy to be of her manners.
Which as soon as I perceived with myself : Good Jupiter (I say)

(40) Et Venus et Veneris nate, Cupido, faue,
Scitis enim me casto animo, me mente pudica,
Virtutes Dominae percoluisse meae,
Nec formae tantum captum iuuenilis amore,
(Quamquam forma Deos flectere digna fuit)
(45) Non oculis tantum uiuum spirantibus ignem,
Arsisse ( et flama haec ureret Hyppolitum)
Non ita caesarie uinctum flauisque capillis,
(Et poterant ipsum haec uincla tenere Iouem)
Quantum mente proba, diuinis moribus atque hoc

(40) And Venus, and you, son of Venus, Cupid, be favorable,
For you know that I, with a chaste spirit, with a pudic mind,
have cultivated the virtues of my Lady,
nor was I captured only by love of youthful form,
(although the form was worthy to bend the gods),
(45) not only to have burned at eyes breathing living fire
(and this flame would scorch Hippolytus),
not so bound by tresses and by blond hair
(and these bonds could hold Jove himself),
as much as by an upright mind, by divine morals and by this

(50) Candore, hac animi dexteritate sui.
Dotem non ego diuitias aurumue putarim,
Aut haec quae in precio uulgus habere solet.
Sed magis ingenuam mentem uitamque pudicam
Praecipue stabilem cum probitate fidem.

(50) By this candor, by this deftness of her spirit.
I would not reckon a dowry to be riches or gold,
Or these things which the vulgar crowd is wont to hold at a price.
But rather an ingenuous mind and a modest life,
Especially a stable fidelity together with probity.

(55) Haec ego cum Domina uideor mihi posse Loysa
Consequi et aeterna pace bonisque frui,
Ergo fauete mihi tandem, bone Iuppiter, et tu,
O Venus et Veneris, sancte Cupido, puer.
Finieram : cum circa aures mihi lenior aura

(55) With my Lady Loysa I seem to myself to be able to attain these things
and to enjoy eternal peace and good things,
therefore favor me at last, good Jupiter, and you,
O Venus, and you, holy Cupid, boy of Venus.
I had finished : when around my ears a gentler breeze

(60) Auspicio uisa est asseruisse preces.
Quaeque diu tenuit me desperatio, longe
Cessit et in mentem Spes, Dea certa, uenit :
Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.
(65) Paulatimque animi posita feritate rebellis
Concessit telis, Diue Cupido, tuis.

(60) By an auspice it seemed to have affirmed my prayers.
And the despair which held me for a long time, far
withdrew, and into my mind came Hope, the sure Goddess:
Wreathe your Poet with victorious laurel, Henry,
Lo, golden‑haired Loysa lies in my bosom.
(65) And little by little, with the fierceness of her spirit laid aside, the rebellious one
yielded to your darts, Divine Cupid.

Meque suum seseque meam blando ore uocauit
Et flama exussit par utriusque iecur.
Quin et coniugii sanctis uincimur utrimque

And she called me her own and herself mine with a blandishing mouth,
and a flame burned out the liver of each alike.
Indeed even by the holy bonds of marriage we are bound on both sides

(70) Nexibus et capimus rite damusque fidem.
Expedias calamos nostrumque, Henriche, triumphum
Concelebrans, clames : O Hymenaee ueni,
O Hymenaee ueni, ueni o pronuba Iuno
Cumque Iocis Venus et cum Venere alma Fides.
(75) Cinge tuum lauru uictrice, Henriche, Poetam,
En iacet in nostro flaua Loysa sinu.

(70) In bonds we duly both take and give faith.
Make ready your quills, and, Henry, celebrating our triumph together, cry aloud: O Hymenaeus, come,
O Hymenaeus, come, come, O pronuba Juno,
and with Jests Venus, and with Venus kindly Faith.
(75) Gird your Poet with the victor laurel, Henry,
lo, golden-haired Loysa lies in our bosom.

AD AVRORAM

TO AURORA

(1) Aurora Musis grata et Apollini,
Adsis Loysae frigidula et sinus
Comasque dispellas fluentes.
Vecta humeris Zephyri suauis
(5) Quacunque, Diua, incedis, alis rosas
Grauesque gemmas palmitis euocas.
Natura miratur decoras
Ruris opes tenerosque flores
Cum parte dextra, Diua, rubescere

(1) Aurora, pleasing to the Muses and to Apollo,
be present to Loysa, cool one, and drive away
the flowing locks from her bosom.
Borne on the shoulders of Zephyr, sweet one,
(5) wherever, Goddess, you advance, you call forth with your wings roses
and the weighty gems of the vine-shoot.
Nature marvels at the comely
riches of the countryside and the tender flowers
when, with your right side, Goddess, you grow rosy

(10) Pergis caputque attollere praeuium
Solis statim iam subsequentis
Igniferis radiis. Loysa
Aduersa si tum forte leues comas
Ventis resoluat, pectine eburneo
(15) Discriminans auri superbum
Vellus, et aethereos ocellos
Sereniores sidere proferat,
Qua parte tandem Sol caput ambigo
Leuet coruscum aurora utrinque

(10) You proceed, and lift your forerunning head
of the Sun immediately now following
with igniferous rays. Loysa,
if then by chance, facing you, she should loose her light tresses
to the winds, with an ivory comb
(15) parting the proud fleece of gold,
and should bring forth her ethereal eyes
serener than a star,
on which side, then, I am in doubt that the Sun
raises his flashing head—dawn is on both sides.

(20) Usque adeo mihi par uidetur.
Quis non Loysae sideribus pares
Aurorae ocellos uincere gratiam
Iuret ? nec est tamen modestae
Quod male, Diua, uelis Loysae;
(25) Formae potentis diues et aureis
Nitens capillis, nil tamen arrogat.
Sed quam placet decore uultus
Pectoris et spatio torosi !
Et quam decentes fert humeros, quibus

(20) To such a degree it seems on a par to me.
Who would not swear that Loysa’s little eyes,
equal to the stars of Aurora, conquer her grace?
nor yet is there, for modest Loysa, anything that you, Goddess, would wish ill;
(25) rich in potent beauty and shining with golden
hair, yet she arrogates nothing. But how the comeliness of her face
pleases, and the breadth of her well-knit chest!
And how becomingly she bears her shoulders, with which

(30) Cedant Dianae membra humeri et latus !
Tam non superbit, tam modestis
Moribus est facilique cultu :
O Diua, currum si qua comes tibi
Conscendet, haec est digna uehi sacris
(35) Rotis, cui adflabit Fauoni
Aura comas tepidi sinusque.

(30) Let the limbs of Diana—shoulders and flank—yield!
So little does she vaunt herself, so of modest
manners is she, and with simple attire:
O Goddess, if any companion shall mount your
chariot, this one is worthy to be borne by the sacred
(35) wheels, for whom the aura of tepid Favonius will breathe upon her hair and bosom’s folds.

AD IOANNEM DE HALEWIJN

TO JOHN OF HALEWIJN

(1) Tristi quid potius Noto
Diuexante graui flamine fraxinos,
Halwini, faciam ? Niues
Aggestae lacerant brachia quercuum;
(5) Emissisque Aquilonibus
Acris saeuit hyems frigore et imbribus;
Tectis horrida stiria
Dependet. Pluuio quid potius die,
Halwini, faciam ? Foco

(1) What, with the sad Notus vexing the ash-trees with a heavy blast,
Halewijn, should I rather do? The snows heaped up
lacerate the arms of the oaks;
(5) and with the Aquilones sent forth,
sharp winter rages with cold and with rains;
from the roofs a dreadful icicle
hangs down. On a rainy day what, rather, should I do,
Halewijn? At the hearth

(10) Large insterne, puer, ligna, merum cado
Depromas, ueteri cado,
Quem Canaria dimisit ab insulis,
Quas Fortuna fauens beat,
Fumosamque foco diripe protinus
(15) Pernam, frigoribus sapit
Perna et uina placent mascula. Nec graues
Curas aut animum anxium
Dissoluas melius quam ueteri mero.

(10) Heap on generously, boy, the logs; draw out the pure wine from the cask
From the old cask,
Which Canaria has sent forth from the islands,
Which Fortune, favoring, makes blessed,
And at once tear into the smoky ham from the hearth
(15) Ham tastes with the cold,
And ham and masculine wines are pleasing. Nor
Would you dissolve heavy cares or an anxious mind
Better than with old pure wine.

Atqui ut uina placent mihi

And yet how the wines please me

(20) Non uulgaria, sic non cupiam dapes
Raras, perna satis mihi
Cui farcimina quis si uelit addere
Nil his ulterius petam.
Tantum sint socii, quos ueteres mihi
(25) Iunxerunt Grudii, Hazius,
Snecus, Ulaminius, quosue sacrae mihi
Addixere Aganippides,
Cordus, Meierus, Meuchenius, Canis,
Aut Lernutus impiger,

(20) Not commonplace—thus I shall not desire rare banquets;
ham is enough for me,
to which, if someone should wish to add sausages,
nothing beyond these will I seek.
Only let there be companions, whom old times have joined to me—
(25) Grudius, Hazius,
Snecus, Ulaminius—or whom the sacred Aganippids
have assigned to me, Cordus, Meierus, Meuchenius, Canis,
or Lernutus the tireless.

(30) Aut quicunque alii sollicitudines
Audent post cyathos leui
Propulsare lyra et carminibus sacris
Securi quibus imperent
Reges, quos creperae concutiant tubae.
(35) Non hos terrificet mare,
Ne merces Cyprias fluctibus obruat.
Non, ut saeuiat Africus,
Ad turpes timidi confugient preces :
Si quae cura animum coquit,

(30) Or whoever else dare, after cups, to drive off solicitudes
with a light lyre and with sacred songs—
carefree; let kings command those
whom the rattling trumpets shake.
(35) Let not the sea terrify these,
lest Cyprian merchandises be overwhelmed by the waves.
Not, when the Africus rages,
will the timid flee to base prayers:
if any care seethes the spirit,

(40) Haec sit quam Dominae progenerat rigor.
Illam, cum neque tigrides
Saeuo nutrierint lacte nec asperis
Ursae in montibus, anne spes
Sit flecti hanc precibus posse frequentibus ?
(45) Si qua est asperior tamen,
Quae nec carminibus nec precibus queat
Flecti, huius subito potens
Curam ex pectore uis diluerit meri.
Sed coniux mea me tenet

(40) Let this be what the Lady’s rigor begets.
Her—though neither tigresses have nourished her with savage milk nor
bears in rugged mountains—whether there is any hope
that this one might be bent by frequent prayers?
(45) Yet if there is one more harsh,
who can be bent neither by songs nor by prayers,
may the force of neat wine, suddenly potent,
dilute the care of her from the breast.
But my spouse holds me fast.

(50) Adsuetum gracili uiuere sub iugo,
Quae tam dulciter imperat,
Libertate magis seruitium ut mihi
Illius placeat, neque
Commutare uelim ditis Iberiae
(55) Adsuetum imperio iugum.
Sic dulces pluuiae, sic hyemes placent.
Haec si arriserit aut fauet,
Ipsis ex niuibus prosilient rosae,
Haec cum sub lare paruulo

(50) Accustomed to live under a slender yoke,
she who commands so sweetly,
so that, for me, servitude to her may please more than liberty,
may please, and I would not
wish to exchange it for the yoke of wealthy Iberia
(55) accustomed to command.
Thus sweet rains, thus winters please.
If she smiles or shows favor,
from the snows themselves the roses will spring forth;
when she, beneath the tiny roof,

(60) Nobis iuncta oculis dulce micantibus
Agrestem exhilarat domum,
Non soles alios, non alios petam
Flores, illius in labris
Inseuit uiolas purpureas Venus.

(60) Joined to us with eyes sweetly sparkling,
she exhilarates the rustic home;
I will seek no other suns, no other flowers—
on her lips Venus has sown
purple violets.

AD LOYSAM VXOREM

TO LOUISA, WIFE

(1) Seu rides, mea, seu sollicite ingemis,
Seu curas animo concoquis anxias,
Seu laetare Loysa,
Flos aeui breuis auolat,
(5) Et cum lapsa semel praeteriit dies,
Illam, seu facili prolueris mero,
Seu tristi mage fletu,
Umbra et nox grauis incubant.
Quod si uita tibi puriter acta sit,

(1) Whether you laugh, my dear, or anxiously you groan,
Or concoct anxious cares in your mind,
Or rejoice, Loysa,
The flower of our brief age flies away;
(5) And when once the day, having slipped, has passed by,
That one, whether you wash it away with mellow pure wine,
Or rather with sad weeping,
Shadow and heavy night brood over it.
But if your life be conducted purely,

(10) Mercedem tuleris. Nil uetat interim
Dulceis inter amicos
Vitam ducere suauiter.
Absint praecipue luxus et omnium
Spumans ebrietas, maxima criminum
(15) Caussa et fons : epulae sint
Conditae salibus, iocis
Sed castis; Veneris foeda proteruia
Absit sed Domini commemoratio
Adsit, principioque

(10) You will have received the reward. Nothing forbids in the interim
among sweet friends
to lead life sweetly.
Let luxury especially be absent, and of all
the foaming ebriety, the greatest cause and fountain of crimes
(15) : let the banquets be
seasoned with salt, with jests
but chaste; let the foul protervity of Venus
be absent, but let the commemoration of the Lord
be present, and at the beginning

(20) Mensae laus sua personet
Christo et fine. Sitim dulcia pocula,
Commendare famem fercula maxime
Optarim, procul autem
Curas esse suaserim,
(25) Absentumque uelim gesta silentio
Inuolui aut nisi cum laude rapi in diem :
Mens secura quiesque
Iuges sunt epulae mihi.

(20) Let the table’s own praise resound
to Christ at the beginning and at the end. Let sweet cups for thirst,
I should most wish the dishes to commend hunger,
I would advise, however, that cares be far away,
(25) and I would wish the deeds of the absent to be wrapped in silence
or, unless with praise, to be seized for the day :
A secure mind and repose
are continual banquets for me.