Ovid: HEROIDES

Sic ubi fata vocant, udis abiectus in herbis
     ad vada Maeandri concinit albus olor.
Nec quia te nostra sperem prece posse moveri,
     alloquor: adverso movimus ista deo!
sed meriti famam corpusque animumque pudicum
     cum male perdiderim, perdere verba leve est.

Thus, when the Fates call, cast down among the wet grasses
     by the shallows of the Maeander the white swan sings.
Nor because I hope that you can be moved by our prayer
     do I address you: with a god adverse we set these things in motion!
but since I have badly lost the fame of desert and my chaste body and mind,
     to lose words is a light thing.

Certus es ire tamen miseramque relinquere Didon
     atque idem venti vela fidemque ferent.
certus es, Aenea, cum foedere solvere naves
     quaeque ubi sint nescis, Itala regna sequi.
nec nova Karthago, nec te crescentia tangunt
     moenia nec sceptro tradita summa tuo.

Certain you are to go, nevertheless, and to relinquish wretched Dido
     and likewise the winds will bear away your sails and your faith.
Certain you are, Aeneas, to loosen the ships along with the compact
     and, not knowing where they are, to pursue the Italian realms.
Neither New Carthage, nor do the growing walls touch you,
     nor the supreme command delivered to your scepter.

facta fugis, facienda petis; quaerenda per orbem
altera, quaesita est altera terra tibi.
ut terram invenias, quis eam tibi tradet habendam?
quis sua non notis arva tenenda dabit?

you flee things done, you seek things to be done; another land must be sought through the world
another has been sought for you. to find a land, who will hand it over to you to be held?
who will give his own fields to the unknown to be held?

alter habendus amor tibi restat et altera Dido
     quamque iterum fallas, altera danda fides.
quando erit, ut condas instar Karthaginis urbem
     et videas populos altus ab arce tuos?
omnia ut eveniant, nec di tua vota morentur,
     unde tibi, quae te sic amet, uxor erit?

another love remains to be had for you, and another Dido
     whom you may deceive again, another faith to be given.
when will it be, that you found a city in the likeness of Carthage
     and see your peoples aloft from the citadel?
grant that all things come to pass, and that the gods do not delay your vows,
     whence will there be for you a wife who will love you thus?

Uror ut inducto ceratae sulpure taedae,
     ut pia fumosis addita tura rogis.
Aeneas oculis vigilantis semper inhaeret;
     Aenean animo noxque diesque refert.
ille quidem male gratus et ad mea munera surdus
     et quo, si non sim stulta, carere velim.

I burn as a wax-smeared torch with sulfur applied,
     as pious incense added to smoky pyres.
Aeneas always clings to my wakeful eyes;
     both night and day recall Aeneas to my mind.
he indeed is an ingrate and deaf to my gifts,
     and one whom, if I were not foolish, I would wish to be without.

non tamen Aenean, quamvis male cogitat, odi,
     sed queror infidum questaque peius amo.
parce, Venus, nurui, durumque amplectere fratrem,
     frater Amor; castris militet ille tuis.
aut ego quem coepi—neque enim dedignor—amare,
     materiam curae praebeat ille meae.

I do not, however, hate Aeneas, although he is thinking ill,
     but I complain of him as unfaithful, and, having complained, I love him the worse.
Spare, Venus, your daughter-in-law, and, brother Love, enfold your hard brother,
     let him serve as a soldier in your camps.
or let him whom I have begun—for I do not disdain it—to love,
     provide material for my care.

Fallor et ista mihi falso iactatur imago:
     matris ab ingenio dissidet ille suae.
te lapis et montes innataque rupibus altis
     robora, te saevae progenuere ferae
aut mare, quale vides agitari nunc quoque ventis:
     qua tamen adversis fluctibus ire paras?
quo fugis?

I am deceived, and that image is vaunted to me falsely:
     he dissents from his mother’s disposition.
stone and mountains and oaks inborn to the high crags
     begot you; savage beasts begot you,
or the sea, such as you see being agitated even now by the winds:
     by what course, however, do you prepare to go with adverse waves?
where do you flee?

obstat hiems. hiemis mihi gratia prosit!
adspice ut eversas concitet Eurus aquas.

winter stands in the way. let the favor of winter profit me!
behold how Eurus stirs the overturned waters.

quod tibi malueram, sine me debere procellis;
     iustior est animo ventus et unda tuo.
Non ego sum tanti, quod non cessaris, inique,
     ut pereas, dum me per freta longa fugis.
exerces pretiosa odia et constantia magno,
     si, dum me careas, est tibi vile mori.

what I had preferred for you, allow me to owe to the tempests;
     the wind and the wave are more just than your spirit.
I am not worth so much, unfair one, that, not desisting, you should perish,
     while you flee me through the long straits.
you practice costly hatreds and a constancy at great price,
     if, so long as you are without me, to die is cheap to you.

iam venti ponent, strataque aequaliter unda
     caeruleis Triton per mare curret equis.
tu quoque cum ventis utinam mutabilis esses
     et, nisi duritia robora vincis, eris.
quid, si nescires, insana quid aequora possunt,
     expertae totiens tam male credis aquae?

now the winds will subside, and, the wave laid evenly,
     triton will run through the sea with his cerulean horses.
you too—would that you were mutable with the winds,
     and you will be, unless you surpass oaks in hardness.
what, if you did not know what the mad sea-plains can do,
     do you so ill trust water so often experienced?

ut, pelago suadente etiam, retinacula solvas,
     multa tamen latus tristia pontus habet.
nec violasse fidem temptantibus aequora prodest;
     perfidiae poenas exigit ille locus,
praecipue cum laesus amor, quia mater Amorum
     nuda Cytheriacis edita fertur aquis.
Perdita ne perdam, timeo, noceamve nocenti
     neu bibat aequoreas naufragus hostis aquas.

that, even with the sea persuading, you loosen the moorings,
     yet the broad sea holds many grievous things.
nor does it profit those trying the waters to have violated faith;
     that place exacts the penalties of perfidy,
especially when Love has been wounded, because the mother of the Loves
     is said, naked, to have been born from the Cytherean waters.
I fear, lost as I am, lest I destroy, or that I do harm to the harmful,
     and lest the shipwrecked enemy drink the sea-waters.

vive, precor! sic te melius quam funere perdam,
tu potius leti causa ferere mei.
finge, age, te rapido—nullum sit in omine pondus!—
turbine deprendi; quid tibi mentis erit?

live, I pray! thus I will lose you better than by a funeral,
rather let you be the cause of my death.
imagine, come now, that you are caught by a swift—let there be no weight in the omen!—
whirlwind; what presence of mind will you have?

protinus occurrent falsae periuria linguae
     et Phrygia Dido fraude coacta mori;
coniugis ante oculos deceptae stabit imago
     tristis et effusis sanguinolenta comis.
quid tanti est ut tum "merui! concedite!" dicas,
     quaeque cadent in te fulmina missa putes!

At once there will present themselves the perjuries of a false tongue,
     and Dido compelled to die by Phrygian fraud;
before your eyes will stand the image of the deceived spouse,
     sad and blood-stained, with disheveled hair.
What is of such worth that then you would say, “I have deserved it! Make way!”,
     and think that whatever thunderbolts fall were sent against you!

Da breve saevitiae spatium pelagique tuaeque;
grande morae pretium tuta futura via est.
nec mihi tu curae; puero parcatur Iulo!
te satis est titulum mortis habere meae.

Give a brief space to savagery—the sea’s and your own;
a great reward of delay is that the way will be safe.
nor are you my concern; let the boy Iulus be spared!
it is enough that you hold the title of my death.

quid puer Ascanius, quid di meruere Penates?
ignibus ereptos obruet unda deos?
sed neque fers tecum, nec, quae mihi, perfide, iactas,
presserunt umeros sacra paterque tuos.

what has the boy Ascanius, what have the gods, the Penates, deserved?
will the wave overwhelm the gods snatched from the fires?
but neither do you bear with you, nor—those things which you, perfidious one, boast to me—
have the sacred things and your father weighed upon your shoulders.

omnia mentiris; neque enim tua fallere lingua
     incipit a nobis, primaque plector ego:
si quaeras ubi sit formosi mater Iuli—
     occidit a duro sola relicta viro!
haec mihi narraras, sat me monuere merentem
     ure; minor culpa poena futura mea est.
Nec mihi mens dubia est, quin te tua numina damnent:
     per mare, per terras septima iactat hiems.

you lie in all things; for your tongue to deceive does not begin with me,
     and I am the first to be punished:
if you ask where the mother of fair Iulus is—
     she has perished, left alone by a hard husband!
you had told me these things; they have warned me enough, as I deserve—
     burn me; my penalty to come will be less than my culpability.
Nor is my mind in doubt that your divinities condemn you:
     over sea and over lands the seventh winter tosses you.

fluctibus eiectum tuta statione recepi
     vixque bene audito nomine regna dedi.
his tamen officiis utinam contenta fuissem
     nec mea concubitu fama sepulta foret!
illa dies nocuit, qua nos declive sub antrum
     caeruleus subitis conpulit imber aquis.

I received you, ejected by the waves, into a safe station
     and scarcely, with your name well heard, I granted my realm.
Yet would that I had been content with these offices,
     nor had my fame been buried by concubinage!
That day did harm, on which beneath the sloping cave
     the cerulean shower with sudden waters compelled us.

audieram vocem; nymphas ululasse putavi:
     Eumenides fatis signa dedere meis.
Exige, laese pudor, poenas, violataque lecti
     iura neque ad cineres fama retenta meos!
vosque mei manes animaeque cinisque Sychaei,
     ad quas, me miseram, plena pudoris eo.
est mihi marmorea sacratus in aede Sychaeus;
     oppositae frondes velleraque alba tegunt.

I had heard a voice; I thought the nymphs had ululated:
     the Eumenides gave signs to my fates.
Exact, wounded modesty, penalties, for the violated bed’s
     rights, and for a reputation not kept even to my ashes!
and you, my Manes and the spirit and ashes of Sychaeus,
     to whom, wretched me, full of modesty, I go.
Sychaeus is consecrated for me in a marble shrine;
     fronds set in front and white fleeces cover it.

hinc ego me sensi noto quater ore citari;
     ipse sono tenui dixit "Elissa, veni!"
Nulla mora est: venio, venio tibi debita coniunx,—
     sum tamen admisso tarda pudore meo!
da veniam culpae; decepit idoneus auctor;
     invidiam noxae detrahit ille meae.
diva parens seniorque pater, pia sarcina nati,
     spem mihi mansuri rite dedere viri.

From here I felt myself summoned four times by a familiar mouth;
     he himself, in a tenuous sound, said, "Elissa, come!"
There is no delay: I come, I come, your due spouse,—
     yet I am slow with my admitted shame!
Grant pardon for the fault; an idoneous author deceived me;
     he detracts the ill will from my offense.
The divine parent and the elder father, the pious burden of the son,
     duly gave me the hope of a man who would remain.

si fuit errandum, causas habet error honestas:
     adde fidem, nulla parte pigendus erit.
Durat in extremum vitaeque novissima nostrae
     prosequitur fati, qui fuit ante, tenor:
occidit internas coniunx mactatus ad aras
     et sceleris tanti praemia frater habet,
exul agor cineresque viri patriamque relinquo
     et feror in dubias hoste sequente vias;
adplicor ignotis fratrique elapsa fretoque;
     quod tibi donavi, perfide, litus emo.
urbem constitui lateque patentia fixi
     moenia finitimis invidiosa locis.

if there had to be erring, the error has honorable causes:
     add credence; in no part will it be regrettable.
It endures to the end and, to the very last of my life,
     the tenor that was before attends by fate:
my husband fell, sacrificed at the inner altars,
     and my brother has the rewards of so great a crime,
I am driven an exile and I leave my husband’s ashes and my fatherland,
     and I am borne along uncertain roads with the foe following;
I make landfall on unknown shores, having slipped from both brother and strait;
     the shore which I bestowed on you, perfidious one, I purchase.
I established a city, and I fixed walls spreading wide,
     invidious to the neighboring places.

bella tument. bellis peregrina et femina temptor
vixque rudis portas urbis et arma paro.
mille procis placui, qui me coiere querentes
nescio quem thalamis praeposuisse suis.

wars swell. a foreigner and a woman in wars, a novice,
and scarcely, untrained, I prepare the city’s gates and arms.
I have pleased a thousand suitors, who have come together complaining
that I have preferred I-know-not-whom to their own marriage-beds.

quid dubitas vinctam Gaetulo tradere Iarbae?
praebuerim sceleri bracchia nostra tuo.
est etiam frater, cuius manus impia poscit
respergi nostro sparsa cruore viri.

Why do you hesitate to hand me over, bound, to Gaetulian Iarbas?
I would have proffered my arms to your crime.
There is also a brother, whose impious hand demands
to be bespattered with the scattered gore of our husband.

pone deos et quae tangendo sacra profanas!
non bene caelestis impia dextra colit.
si tu cultor eras elapsis igne futurus,
paenitet elapsos ignibus esse deos.

set aside the gods and the sacred things which you profane by touching!
an impious right hand does not well worship the celestials.
if you were going to be a worshipper for those slipped from the fire,
one regrets that the gods have slipped from the flames.

Forsitan et gravidam Didon, scelerate, relinquas
     parsque tui lateat corpore clausa meo.
accedet fatis matris miserabilis infans
     et nondum nato funeris auctor eris.
cumque parente sua frater morietur Iuli,
     poenaque conexos auferet una duos.

Perhaps you will even leave Dido gravid, you wicked man,
     and a part of you may lie hidden, shut within my body.
A pitiable infant will be added to the fates of his mother,
     and you will be the author of a funeral for one not yet born.
and with his parent the brother of Iulus will die,
     and one single penalty will carry off the two linked together.

"Sed iubet ire deus." vellem, vetuisset adire
     Punica nec Teucris pressa fuisset humus.
hoc duce nempe deo ventis agitaris iniquis
     et teris in rapido tempora longa freto?
Pergama vix tanto tibi erant repetenda labore,
     Hectore si vivo quanta fuere forent.

'"But a god bids me go." I would that he had forbidden the approach,
     and that the Punic soil had not been pressed by the Teucrians.
With this god as leader, indeed, you are agitated by unjust winds
     and wear away long seasons on the rapid sea?
Troy would scarcely have had to be sought again by you with such toil,
     if Hector were alive—how great they would be!

non patrium Simoenta petis, sed Thybridis undas,
     nempe ut pervenias quo cupis hospes eris.
utque latet vitatque tuis obtrusa carinis,
     vix tibi continget terra petita seni.
Hos potius populos in dotem ambage remissa
     accipe et advectas Pygmalionis opes.

You do not seek your ancestral Simois, but the waves of Tiber,
     indeed, that you may arrive where you desire, you will be a guest.
and as, barred to your keels, it lies hidden and shuns them,
     scarcely will the sought land befall you as an old man.
These peoples rather take as a dowry, with circumlocution set aside,
     and accept also the wealth of Pygmalion brought over.

Ilion in Tyriam transfer felicius urbem
     resque loco regis sceptraque sacra tene!
si tibi mens avida est belli, si quaerit Iulus,
     unde suo partus Marte triumphus eat,
quem superet, nequid desit praebebimus hostem;
     hic pacis leges, hic locus arma capit.
tu modo—per matrem fraternaque tela, sagittas,
     perque fugae comites, Dardana sacra, deos!—
sic superent, quoscumque tua de gente reportas
     Mars ferus et damni sit modus ille tui
Ascaniusque suos feliciter inpleat annos
     et senis Anchisae molliter ossa cubent!—
parce, precor, domui, quae se tibi tradit habendam!

Transfer Ilion more happily into the Tyrian city,
     and in this place hold your affairs and the sacred scepters of kings!
if your mind is avid for war, if Iulus seeks
     whence a triumph, birthed by his own Mars, may go forth,
whom he may overcome—so that nothing be lacking—we will provide an enemy;
     here the laws of peace, here the place takes up arms.
only do you—by your mother and your brother’s weapons, the arrows,
     and by the companions of your flight, the Dardan sacred things, the gods!—
so may they overcome whomever from your race savage Mars brings back,
     and let that be the limit of your loss;
and may Ascanius happily fulfill his years,
     and may the bones of old Anchises lie softly!—
spare, I pray, the house which hands itself over to you to be held!

     quod crimen dicis praeter amasse meum?
non ego sum Pthias magnisque oriunda Mycenis,
     nec steterunt in te virque paterque meus.
si pudet uxoris, non nupta, sed hospita dicar;
     dum tua sit Dido, quidlibet esse feret.

     what crime do you allege, besides my having loved?
I am not a Phthian, nor sprung from great Mycenae,
     nor did my husband and my father stand against you.
if you are ashamed of a wife, let me be called not a wedded woman, but a hostess;
     so long as Dido may be yours, she will bear to be whatever.

Nota mihi freta sunt Afrum plangentia litus;
     temporibus certis dantque negantque viam:
cum dabit aura viam, praebebis carbasa ventis;
     nunc levis eiectam continet alga ratem.
tempus ut observem, manda mihi: certius ibis,
     nec te, si cupies, ipsa manere sinam.
et socii requiem poscunt, laniataque classis
     postulat exiguas semirefecta moras.

Known to me are the seas beating the African shore;
     at fixed times they both grant and deny a way:
when the breeze will give a way, you will offer your canvases to the winds;
     now light seaweed holds the cast-up craft.
that I may observe the time, entrust it to me: you will go more surely,
     nor, if you desire it, will I myself allow you to remain.
and your comrades demand rest, and the lacerated fleet, half-restored,
     asks for exiguous delays.

pro meritis et siqua tibi debebimus ultra,
     pro spe coniugii tempora parva peto:
dum freta mitescunt et amor, dum temperat usum,
     fortiter edisco tristia posse pati.
Si minus, est animus nobis effundere vitam;
     in me crudelis non potes esse diu.
adspicias utinam, quae sit scribentis imago;
     scribimus, et gremio Troicus ensis adest;
perque genas lacrimae strictum labuntur in ensem,
     qui iam pro lacrimis sanguine tinctus erit.

for your merits, and if we shall owe you anything further,
     in return for the hope of conjugal union I ask a little time:
while the straits grow mild and love softens, while habit tempers it,
     bravely I thoroughly learn to be able to endure sad things.
If not, my spirit is set to pour out my life;
     toward me you cannot be cruel for long.
would that you might look upon what the image of the writer is;
     I write, and in my lap the Trojan sword is present;
and across my cheeks the tears glide onto the drawn sword,
     which now in place of tears will be stained with blood.

quam bene conveniunt fato tua munera nostro!
instruis impensa nostra sepulcra brevi.
nec mea nunc primum feriuntur pectora telo:
ille locus saevi vulnus amoris habet.

how well your gifts accord with my fate!
you furnish my sepulcher at slight expense.
nor is my breast now for the first time struck by a weapon:
that place holds the wound of savage Love.

Anna soror, soror Anna, meae male conscia culpae,
     iam dabis in cineres ultima dona meos.
nec consumpta rogis inscribar Elissa Sychaei,
     hoc tantum in tumuli marmore carmen erit:
praebuit Aeneas et causam mortis et ensem.
     ipsa sua Dido concidit usa manu.

Sister Anna, Anna my sister, woefully conscious of my guilt,
     now you will give into my ashes my final gifts.
nor shall I, Elissa of Sychaeus, consumed by the pyres, be inscribed,
     this only will be the verse on the marble of the tomb:
Aeneas provided both the cause of death and the sword.
     Dido herself fell by her own hand.