The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius

The Lockert Library of Poetry in Translation

Editorial Advisor: Richard Howard

FOR OTHER TITLES IN THE LOCKERT LIBRARY SEE PAGE 469 The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius

Sextus Propertius

Translated with introduction and notes by Vincent Katz

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, 3 Market Place, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1SY All Rights Reserved Photographs by Vivien Bittencourt: Cynthia, Clitumnus, Lake Avernus, Roman Figure. Reprinted by permission.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Propertius, Sextus. [Elegiae. English & Latin] The complete elegies of Sextus Propertius / Sextus Propertius ; translated with introduction and notes by Vincent Katz. p. cm. — (Lockert library of poetry in translation) Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 0-691-11581-8 (acid-free paper) — ISBN 0-691-11582-6 (pbk. : acid-free paper) 1. Elegiac poetry, Latin—Translations into English. 2. Love poetry, Latin—Translations into English. 3. Elegiac poetry, Latin. 4. Love poetry, Latin. I. Katz, Vincent, 1960– II. Title. III. Series.

PA6645.E5K355 2004 874'.01—dc22 2003057954

British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available

The Lockert Library of Poetry in Translation is supported by a bequest from Charles Lacy Lockert (1888–1974)

This book has been composed in Galliard

Printed on acid-free paper. ∞

www.pupress.princeton.edu

Printed in the United States of America

13579108642 This work of translation is dedicated to my parents— and to my children

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments xiii Preserving the Metaphor: Translating Propertius by Vincent Katz xv

BOOK ONE

1.1 “Cynthia was the first. She caught me with her eyes” 3 1.2 “nude Love doesn’t love artifice in beauty” 7 1.3 “although a pair commanded me, gripped with lust” 11 1.4 “Cynthia is tried by no curse more gravely / than when grace abandons her” 15 1.5 “she comes with a price” 19 1.6 “I wasn’t born to praise or fighting” 23 1.7 “This is how my life’s used up” 27 1.8 A “Can your tender feet brave the frosts?” 29 1.8 B “Rare Cynthia is mine!” 31 1.9 “I told you how love would be, and you laughed” 33 1.10 “not light is the medicine in my words” 37 1.11 “in the Bay of Naples no love is safe” 41 1.12 “Cynthia was the first, Cynthia will be the last” 45 1.13 “She will be punishment for the despised pain of all of them” 47 1.14 “I’ll despise Alcinous’ gifts” 51 1.15 “be whatever you want, just not alien” 53 1.16 “Once I was opened to great triumphs” 57 1.17 “God damn him! who first prepared ship and sail” 61

1.18 “let the rocks be full of your name” 65 1.19 “There, whatever I’ll be, I’ll always be called your image” 69 1.20 “You’ve been warned, Gallus: protect your love” 71 1.21 “Gallus . . . / tried to escape unknown hands—but was not able” 75 1.22 “What class I am and from where” 77

BOOK TWO

2.1 “The girl alone erects my genius” 81 2.2 “Love got the better of me” 87 2.3 “You are the ﬁrst Roman girl to recline at Jove’s table” 89 2.4 “Let him like boys, if he will be my friend” 95 2.5 “this verse, Cynthia, will be your pallor” 97 2.6 “A wife never, never will a friend lead me astray” 101 2.7 “conquered nations are worth nothing in love” 105 2.8 “Are you going to die then, Propertius, still so young?” 107 2.9 A “My blood will be your greatest triumph” 111 2.9 B “I . . . / would not shrink from death, as long as you too die” 115 2.10 “it’s time to refresh Helicon with other choruses” 117 2.11 “Let others write about you, or you will be unknown” 121 2.12 “He was the ﬁrst to see that lovers live without logic” 123 2.13 A “may it please me to have recited in the arms of an educated girl” 125

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2.13 B “My procession will be grand enough if it contains my three chapbooks” 127 2.14 “one more night like that, and I’ll be immortal” 131 2.15 “With such varied embrace we exchange positions!” 135 2.16 “Can just anyone purchase love with gifts?” 141 2.17 “Nothing on earth is harder than the life of the lover” 147 2.18 A “If you’ve seen something, always deny you’ve seen it!” 149 2.18 B “Aurora did not despise Tithonus’ aging” 151 2.18 C “Have you gone nuts? You imitate the painted Britons?” 153 2.19 “without me you’ll experience only bleak ﬁelds” 155 2.20 “I desist not easily, nor rashly do I begin” 159 2.21 “that pretty boyfriend of yours has a wife!” 163 2.22 A “Everywhere I go, I get lucky” 165 2.22 B “If you’re tough, say no: if not, come on!” 169 2.23 “To hell with them who keep their portals shut!” 171 2.24 A “it should be no wonder to you I seek out cheap girls” 173 2.24 B “the kind of cheap gifts that glitter on the Via Sacra” 175 2.24 C “Just now you were praising me and reading my poems” 177 2.25 “that beauty will become, through my books, the most famous” 181 2.26 A “I saw you in a dream, my love, in a shipwreck” 185 2.26 B “I hope she never says, ‘Poet, get out of my bed’” 187 2.26 C “A single plank will be enough to hold two lovers” 189 2.27 “Our head again tossed into the tumult, we moan” 193

2.28 A “A big mouth and beauty brought you to this” 195 2.28 B “The twisted rhombuses and their magic incantation have failed” 199 2.28 C “Neither beauty nor fortune is permanent” 201 2.29 A “a band of little boys . . . suddenly appeared” 203 2.29 B “from that moment on, I haven’t had a happy night” 205 2.30 A “even though you may sin, he is a forgiving god” 207 2.30 B “Can it be wrong to live for one woman, contented?” 209 2.31 “Phoebus’ golden / portico was opened by mighty Caesar” 211 2.32 “Whoever sees, sins” 213 2.33 A “Already the dreary ritual returns” 219 2.33 B “Languid, you drink: midnight can’t break you” 221 2.34 “Why would anyone entrust their mistress’ beauty to Love?” 223

BOOK THREE

3.1 “Let the verse be ﬁnished with light pumice” 233 3.2 “These poems will be so many monuments to your beauty” 237 3.3 “I had put my little mouth to this gushing source” 239 3.4 “The god Caesar plans war against the luxurious Indians” 243 3.5 “Love is a god of Peace” 245 3.6 “Tell me what you really know about my girl” 249 3.7 “Money, you are the cause of life’s problems!” 253 3.8 A “It’s not real passion that you don’t turn to reproaches” 259

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3.8 B “Be happy, since no girl’s as pretty” 263 3.9 “Huge sails don’t fit my raft” 265 3.10 “May the day pass without clouds, may winds stand in the air” 271 3.11 “Why do you wonder if a woman perverts my life” 275 3.12 “may all you greedy bastards perish” 281 3.13 “You ask why a night with gluttonous girls costs so much” 285 3.14 “We marvel, Sparta, at the rules of your wrestling school” 291 3.15 “she knowingly moistened my raw spirit” 295 3.16 “Middle of the night, and a letter comes from my mistress” 299 3.17 “give me calm, father, and favorable sails” 303 3.18 “hateful Baiae . . . / what hostile god stands in your water?” 307 3.19 “Our lust is often tossed in my face by you” 311 3.20 “A stiff who could trade his girl for profit!” 315 3.21 “I am forced to make the Great Tour to learned Athens” 319 3.22 “Here, Anio, you flow through Tibur, Clitumnus near the Umbrian / path” 323 3.23 “It seems my clever tablets have disappeared” 327 3.24 “Your confidence in your beauty is unfounded, woman” 329 3.25 “I was a joke at dinner parties among the set tables” 331

BOOK FOUR

4.1 “Rites and holy days I’ll sing, and ancient names of places” 335

4.2 “learn the origins of the god Vertumnus” 349 4.3 “I cover the chapels with ﬂowers, I ﬁll the crossroads with vervain” 355 4.4 “a lofty dowry comes to you—Rome betrayed” 361 4.5 “Should she will it, loadstone will lose its power to attract iron” 369 4.6 “Muse, we will tell of the temple of Palatine Apollo” 377 4.7 “Spirits do exist. Death doesn’t end it all” 385 4.8 “Learn what scandalized the well-watered Esquiline last night” 393 4.9 “The Amphitryonid had driven the oxen through / a tempest” 401 4.10 “Now I begin, revealing the stories of Jove Feretrius” 407 4.11 “I lived distinguished between the two torches” 411

Notes 419 Index of First Lines 451 General Index 455

xii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the many wonderful teachers with whom I have had the good fortune to study Latin and Greek literature and history. In chronological order, they are Rolston Coles, Charles Bundy, Frank Smith, Katherine Pappas, Ed Bassett, James Redﬁeld, Peter White, Arthur Adkins, Anne Pippin Burnett, Nicholas Rudall, Robert Kaster, Ralph Johnson, Donald Russell, Malcolm Davies, Nicholas Purcell, Michael Trapp, Michael Whitby, and Angus Bowie. I would like to express my debt to the work of Sir Ronald Syme, who also impressed me with his detailed knowledge of the shops in central Oxford. My friend Morgan Russell has been a companion in my pursuit of Propertius; he seemed as excited as I by new discoveries. Without the efforts of Richard Howard, this book would not exist in its present form; I am grateful for all he has done on its behalf. Ralph Johnson generously wrote the fore- word to an earlier book of my translations, and his support through the years has been invaluable. Michael C. J. Putnam has been extremely supportive of these efforts, and it is with great pleasure that I have the opportunity to thank him. I must make special mention of the help Anne Burnett provided, in her comments on my introduction, which showed exemplary generosity of spirit. I would like to thank Matthew S. Santirocco for his advice. Being awarded the John Guare Writer’s Fund Rome Prize Fellowship for 2001–2002 at the American Academy in Rome greatly aided my research for this book. Mary Murrell of Princeton University Press has super- vised the production with delicacy and care. Sara Lerner did an excellent job of copyediting, in Latin and English. Olivia Pittet’s skill in typing and proofreading the Latin text was aided by her appreci- ation of that text. It is a great pleasure to thank Carolyn Sherayko for her diligence in preparing the index. My mother, Ada Katz, once again proved she shares her father’s passion for proofreading. I would like to express my gratitude to my wife, Vivien, who has supported me during the long difﬁculties required to attempt to transform mountains of beautiful Latin into seemingly effortless English. In particular, she has been helpful in criticizing the critical aspect of this work. Finally, it is necessary to thank the poet, for having taken the time out of all those dull, or thrilling, days to sit down and write poems that will be blazoned in our minds as long as texts are handed on in copies of copies of copies.

xiv

PRESERVING THE METAPHOR: TRANSLATING PROPERTIUS by Vincent Katz

The greatest challenge in translating poetry is to come as close as possible to the syntax in which the poet originally expressed his or her thoughts. Poets are often doing reckless, unallowed things with language. Even very good poets can go too far in their desire not to be bound by previous expressions. For the translator to deviate greatly from how the poet wrote does a disservice to the reader. I have tried, in my translations of Propertius, to stay as close as possible to what I perceive to be his willful strangeness. His affection for patronymics, his unique versions of famous myths, his highly compressed phraseology—all these are qualities that define him. To gloss them in an attempt to make Propertius more palatable to the “modern reader” would be to declaw the poet, to remove from him those weapons that make him who he is. I have provided notes at the end of the book, which attempt to clarify those details of mythology and naming that seem in need of explanation, but I wanted to preserve in the translations the rough beauty of the poetry’s terrain in the Latin. Propertius must have been a difficult poet, even for the ultra-refined few who made up his audience in the days of the emperor Augustus. It was in his character to write in a way that was half-challenge, half-insouciance. Flaunting one’s erudition was not unique to Propertius. In fact, it should be considered one of the defining characteristics of Au- gustan poetry. Propertius’ contemporaries Vergil and Horace, as well as Catullus before them, were all masters of the recondite—not as a reference here or there, requiring study, but rather as a world view that favored a highly literary and subtle approach to both subject and language. With all his literary and verbal sophistication, Propertius shared another quality with his contemporaries—the ability to write lines of the most down-to-earth frankness in what we imagine was a street vernacular. In all the poets mentioned, the combination of high and low tones presents a difficulty, but in Propertius that difficulty is compounded by the way in which he veers, without warning, plunging and rising sharply, seemingly in response to his equally variable moods. Propertius’ poetry, more than that of Vergil or Horace, seems to be closely graphing its narrator’s emotional state. The subject and setting of many of Propertius’ poems are his love affairs, in particular his relationship with a woman he refers to as Cynthia.1 Allowing for the fact that in no writing are we justified in making a one-to- one correspondence between author and narrator, the fact remains that the first-person quality of Propertius’ poetry is much more in- tensely defined than in the work of either of his contemporaries. Catullus was a model for narrator identification but his poetry tended to be in the vein of a lyric burst, so that the emotion typically remained constant throughout the duration of a poem. The stark shifts in Propertius’ poems, and his juxtaposition of myths to his personal life, are peculiar to his poetic genius.

That we should sense a flesh-and-blood person directly in the poems was, presumably, one of Propertius’ goals, a distinctly Roman desire to be known and remembered as a person. The ref-

1 It was common for the Roman poets to give Greek pseudonyms to their lovers—Prop- ertius chose his from one of the epithets of the god of poetry, Apollo.

xvi PRESERVING THE METAPHOR erences by name to himself, to contemporary poets, and to earlier poetic models are strong indications of a strategy to create an identification, regardless of the degree of embellishment or fantasy attached. Most of what we presume to know of Propertius’ life comes from his poems. In a cryptic poem that ends his ﬁrst book, we learn that “neighboring Umbria, below Perusia on the plain / bore me, fertile Umbria, productive land” (1.22.9–10). He came from the plain between Perusia and Asisium (modern Perugia and Assisi), the di- viding line between Etruria and Umbria, and his family was shattered by the civil wars. Perusia was beseiged by Octavian in 41 B.C.E.; after its capture, it was plundered and the surrounding areas subjected to land redistribution:

If the Perusine tombs of our country are known to you, funerals in Italy’s hard times, when Roman discord hunted her citizens— this was especially painful for me, my Etruscan soil: you allowed my relative’s limbs to go abandoned, you cover the poor man’s bones with no earth— (1.22.3–8)

In the ﬁrst poem of his fourth and ﬁnal book, we are given evidence that Propertius’ family was victim of Octavian’s land distributions of 41–40 B.C.E. In the poem’s second half, Propertius’ interlocutor, a seer, tells of Propertius’ experiences growing up:

Ancient Umbria with its well-known Penates bore you . . . (4.1.121)

the rampart of towering Assisi surges from a peak, that rampart made more famous by your genius.

xvii

You gathered bones that should not have been gathered so young— your father’s—and were yourself forced into modest quarters: for when countless bulls were plowing your ﬁelds, the dull measuring rod took away reﬁnements of wealth. (4.1.125–130)

From this information, we can surmise that Propertius was one of those known as domi nobiles, literally, “nobles at home” meaning those who had influence and distinction in their towns, though not in Rome. There is evidence that Propertius had a senator as a relative;2 and the man to whom he dedicated five poems, Tullus, was a nephew of Lucius Volcacius Tullus, consul in 33 B.C.E. At some point, the young Propertius made his way to Rome, where he developed a close relationship with Gaius Maecenas, Vergil’s and Horace’s literary patron. An Etruscan aristocrat who never held public office, Maecenas wielded immense influence with Augustus, the newly fashioned princeps, “first citizen,” also princeps senatus, “first senator,” and simultaneously the first Roman emperor. Maecenas was to Augustus Caesar something analogous to a president’s personal counsellor, and a man of highly refined literary tastes. The program for poetry was not simply to lend prestige to the new regime, though it did that. The poets of Augustus’ court were called upon to write poetry that glorified the emperor and his position in an exalted history of the Roman state. Vergil was capable of writing an epic poem on Rome’s mythic origins; Horace wrote poems in praise of Augustus. Propertius’ case was different. In his poems, he consistently tried to evade the responsibility, mak-

2 Because of the rarity of the name, Ronald Syme believed that the senator Propertius Pos- tumus, known from an inscription, was probably a relation: The Augustan Aristocracy (Ox- ford: Oxford University Press, 1986), p. 359, footnote 100. Syme also thought the Postu- mus addressed in Propertius’ poem 3.12 could be this senator.

xviii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR ing variations of the rhetorical form known as recusatio, “refusal,” claiming his talent allowed him to write poems only of love. In his ﬁnal book, Propertius did feel compelled to take up the challenge— thus complicating the overall picture of his moral stance. Two of Propertius’ poems are addressed to Maecenas. In the ﬁrst poem of his second book, while delicately stating his inability to write public poetry, Propertius includes a substantial passage in praise of his friend:

If the fates had granted, Maecenas, that I bring forth heroic armed bands . . . (2.1.17–18)

wars and acts of your Caesar I’d commemorate, and you, after great Caesar, would be my next topic. (2.1.25–26)

After deﬁning Maecenas as “faithful head in establishing and maintaining peace” (2.1.36), Propertius declares that his own type of warfare is that of two lovers “writhing against one another on a narrow bed” (2.1.45). He refers, as he does over and over in his poems, to his “vice,” his obsession for his girlfriend, and indicates that this vice makes it impossible for him even to think about anything else. In the ninth poem of Propertius’ third book, the poet again claims inability to write state poetry, but by now we sense the issue has become more complicated, Propertius’ repeated refusals perhaps endangering his position as one of the chosen few. Proper- tius is forced to take a slightly stronger tack, while still maintaining the utmost respect for his potential patron. He turns the question back on Maecenas himself, asking if he would be able to do something contrary to his character:

xix

Maecenas, knight descended from Etruscan kings, since you are happy to remain within your station, why dispatch me on a vast ocean of writing? Huge sails don’t ﬁt my raft. (3.9.1–4)

Propertius points out that he is following Maecenas’ own example, in that Maecenas, despite his great inﬂuence and power, is happy to remain an eques, a knight, rather than obtain the rank of senator, and to stay in Augustus’ shadow:

But I have received your precepts for life, Maecenas, and I am bound to surpass you through your example. (3.9.21–22)

No matter the extent of Rome’s successes,

you hold back and humbly withdraw into the shadows: of your own will, you pull in the full billows of your sails. (3.9.29–30)

“If you gave the lead” (3.9.47), Propertius writes—that is, if Mae- cenas were to step out of the shadows to claim the glory—then Propertius would be happy to write of wars ancient and contemporary. The poem concludes,

As my supporter, understand and take up the reins of my youth. Give a favorable sign to my spinning wheels. Do you grant me this honor, Maecenas, as is your right, that I’ll be known to have joined your camp willingly? (3.9.57–60)

I have chosen to translate the Latin word fautor as “supporter.” It comes from the same root as the English “favor” and indicates a

xx PRESERVING THE METAPHOR person who supports, promotes; who favors. The technical word for “patron,” in the terminology of the patron/client relationship so deeply rooted in Roman society, is patronus. It has been argued, therefore, that we do not have any direct evidence that Maecenas actually was Propertius’ patron. It seems probable that Maecenas, perceiving Propertius’ brilliance, was cultivating him, supporting him—perhaps monetarily, although Propertius seems to have re- tained some wealth of his own—and attempting to enlist him as one of the great literary supporters of the emperor. What are we to make of the poem’s concluding couplet? It appears that Propertius is asking Maecenas to pull back a little, to allow the poet to join Maecenas on Propertius’ own terms and in his own time. If so, this is a passage of extreme delicacy and subtlety, dealing directly with a situation of the utmost importance to the poet’s position in society and in the world. Maecenas lived in a lavish villa on the Esquiline hill in Rome, near the site that became Nero’s Domus Aurea, overlooking the Roman Forum. Propertius too lived on the fancy Esquiline:

Learn what scandalized the well-watered Esquiline last night, when the neighboring crowd came running from the new gardens . . . (4.8.1–2)

The woman he was obsessed with, to whom many of his poems are directed, lived in the neighborhood at the bottom of the Esquiline, the Subura. The Subura was known for its concentration of activities and fast paced characters. Here one could ﬁnd booksellers, taverns, and brothels in densely packed buildings of unsafe construction. In a poem in his fourth book, Propertius has a dream in which the ghost of the recently deceased Cynthia visits him and reminds him of their nights there:

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Had you forgotten already our all-night adventures in the Subura and my window, worn down by nightly deceits, from which I so often dangled, having let down a rope, coming hand under hand to your embrace? Many times, we had sex right there in the street, our hearts meshed, and our coats left the pavement warm. (4.7.15–20)

Although aristocratic women had certain freedoms in the late Republic and early Empire, there were also strict limitations. In an attempt to create a climate, if not a reality, of moral propriety, Au- gustus in 18 B.C.E. instituted moral legislation in the form of penal- ties for adultery and incentives for stable and child-producing mar- riages. In typically one-sided fashion, the law protected husbands, not wives. One Augustan law stated that a man could not have sexual relations with an unmarried aristocratic woman, but he could have relations with a prostitute. In 2 B.C.E., Augustus brought a public accusation of immoral conduct against his own daughter, Julia, and banished her to an island. In 8 C.E., the same fate befell Julia’s daughter, also named Julia.3 The poet Ovid was exiled simultaneously with the second Julia; we do not know the precise al- legation, but it may have had to do with his insistence on writing his mock-didactic poem The Art of Love. Ovid, in exile on the Black Sea, wrote that he had been guilty of duo crimina, carmen et error, “two crimes: a poem and a mistake.”4 The facts that he was sent so far and his pleas to be allowed to return never granted indicate the dangers an illicit lifestyle could incur. Women were not expected to remain ignorant, and the intellec-

3 Suetonius, Augustus, 101. 4 Ovid, Tristia, 2.207.

xxii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR tual achievements of many are noted by ancient authors. Upper- class women also had a certain amount of mobility, in terms of their interactions with men. Women were noted as accomplished poets, and Propertius makes this claim for Cynthia. Her very name, a Greek pseudonym, indicates the protection of Apollo, who is repeatedly invoked by Propertius as his own tutelary god. Sarah B. Pomeroy writes, “The women addressed by the elegiac poets not only possessed the usual attractions of mistresses, but were learned as well. They could be of any class: courtesans or freedwomen or upper-class wives, widows, or divorcées.”5 Propertius’ relationship with Cynthia in the poems is tempestuous: “Rip my hair / and scratch my face with your beautiful nails!” (3.8 A.5–6). It is based on his subservience to her: “Whatever she does, whatever she says / the greatest story is born from nothing” (2.1.15–16). From that servitude, he gains a certain mastery and knowledge in affairs of passion, that he can use with others: “not light is the medicine in my words” (1.10.18). Cynthia was probably a courtesan; in one poem, Propertius writes, “she’s always best at weighing her lovers’ purses” (2.16.12), and he compares her to legendary courtesans (2.6). According to Apuleius,6 Cynthia’s real name was Hostia; it is possible that when Propertius refers to a girlfriend’s doctus avus, “learned ancestor” (3.20.8), he is referring to the epic poet Hostius of the second century B.C.E., but it is equally possible that the ancestor was learned in some area other than poetry; Cynthia is not named in the poem. Neither Propertius nor Cynthia was married (the fact that she must sneak out to meet Propertius on one occasion indicates

5 Sarah B. Pomeroy, Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves: Women in Classical Antiquity (New York: Schocken Books, 1995), p. 172. 6 Apuleius, Apologia 10.

xxiii only that she has a boyfriend, who gives her money). Propertius and Cynthia break up, get back together again, go on separate trips. Propertius writes of his relationships with other women and, frequently, of hers with other men. He writes as though he expects Cynthia to remain faithful, yet the word seems almost quaint knowing what we do of Roman habits and of their relationship. Propertius also writes of chaperons; these must have been servants put on duty to make sure a woman was not unfaithful. The poems give glimpses of locales conducive to lust, exquisite settings for licentiousness. Baiae, near Naples, is a “crime against love” (1.11.30). Cynthia forbids Propertius to cruise the portico of Pompey’s magnificent theater (4.8.75). When he is feeling good, Propertius can write, “Everywhere I go, I get lucky” (2.22 A.3). The relative freedom embodied in Propertius’ relationship with Cynthia is set against a backdrop of beliefs exemplified by his friend Tullus. Propertius addresses four poems in book 1 to this Tullus, who serves as a foil to his own temperament, allowing him to flesh out his own beliefs in contradistinction. Tullus represents what might be considered typical Roman values—the importance of military valor, piety, the might of the state, and the right of the victor to enrich himself with spoils. By contrast, Propertius claims to be “insane” through love of a woman, to be in a state of virtual bondage to her. And yet, his stance as one who has no control of his actions also functions as a clever shield for a deeper, strongly held set of beliefs. These stem from his experiences of Octavian’s land confiscations after the civil war, the premature death of his father (possibly in fighting), and the death of another close relative. Prop- ertius never forgot this setting, both to Augustus’ power and to his own life, and it gave personal vigor to his antiwar statements. One

xxiv PRESERVING THE METAPHOR of Propertius’ most effusive erotic poems also contains this surpris- ing passage:

If everyone agreed to sail through life like this, laying down their limbs, hammered from plenty of unmixed wine, the cruel iron and the ﬁghting ship would not exist, nor would the Actian sea toss our bones, and Rome, attacked on many fronts, would not be so often exhausted from letting down her hair in victories over her own. My descendants will justiﬁably be able to praise these acts: our cups have offended no gods. (2.15.41–48)

Here, in his second book, with its programmatic initial poem addressed to Maecenas, Propertius is clearly pulling no punches. War, in whatever justification it can be made to fit, is filled with violence and suffering. The particular memory of pain inflicted by one’s countrymen cannot be made to disappear. In poem 2.7, Propertius reports that Cynthia is delighted that the legislation threatening to separate him from her, part of Augustus’ moral program, has been rescinded. “‘But Caesar is great’” (2.7.5), comes an anonymous in- terjection—what the princeps says must be accepted. “But Caesar is great in war,” the poem continues, “conquered nations are worth nothing in love” (2.7.5–6). To conclude, Propertius uses a conceit of which he is fond—that his militia is the one Venus commands, and uses the weapons of love:

xxv

My glory from this service has earned my fame, glory far and wide . . . (2.7.13–18)

In Propertius’ Rome, a variety of religious cults flourished, a fact reflected in this poems. Propertius refers several times in his poems to Cybele, alternately known as Cybebe or Magna Mater, the Great Mother. This divinity, who enjoyed a long and prestigious, if varied, existence in Rome, was an import from Pessinus in Phrygia. As the Roman Republic began to expand eastward, indigenous aspects of culture were adopted and religious cults from the east gained wide- spread devotion. If we visit the Palatine today, we find at the south- western end the bases of two great temples—the Temple of Victory, dedicated in 294 B.C.E., and the temple of the Magna Mater, dedicated in 191 B.C.E. These two temples were adjacent to where Au- gustus and his wife Livia had their lavish residences. On the other side of his, Augustus built the Temple to Apollo. Promised by vow during the battle of Naulochos against Sextus Pompeius in 36 B.C.E., the temple was dedicated in 28 B.C.E., three years after the victory over Antony and Cleopatra at Actium, and served as a thank-offering to Apollo. The Temple to Apollo was connected to Augustus’ residence by a bridge, and we can see that the Magna Mater temple, by its proximity, also enjoyed pride of place. In addition to the temple on the Palatine, there were at least five other lo- cations in Rome at different times dedicated to the Magna Mater, including a shrine in the Via Sacra in the Roman Forum.7

7 While worship of Cybele was introduced into Rome with great ceremony, it seems possible the city was not prepared for some of the more outrageous elements of her worship, causing leaders to place restrictions on the goddess’s worship. See Mary Beard, et al., Reli- gions of Rome, Volume I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp. 96–98 and 197–98.

xxvi PRESERVING THE METAPHOR

The following account of the original Cybele myth is worth keeping in mind when reading passages in which Propertius refers to the goddess. Cybele was sleeping, when Jupiter attempted to have sex with her. She resisted and his seed spilled on the ground, but since she is the earth it impregnated her anyway, and she gave birth to a monster with male and female sex organs. Bacchus drugged the monster with wine and tied its male organ to a tree so that, when it awoke, it castrated itself. From the blood that flowed sprang an almond or pomegranate tree. The daughter of a river god took this fruit and put it in her lap, whereupon she became pregnant. The river god grew afraid and attempted to kill her child but Cybele intervened, saving the boy, who grew up to become the beautiful youth Attis. Cybele and Attis fell in love. Later, upon discovering that Attis had been unfaithful, Cybele drove him insane, so that he castrated himself underneath a pine tree and died. In religious ceremonies, mourning over Attis’ destruction was followed by a period of celebration, since he was believed to rise again, perhaps tying him to myths of vegetative regeneration. What may have attracted Propertius to the Magna Mater cult was its ritual aspect, in which devotees would go into trances, dancing wildly to loud music and sometimes engaging in self-mutilation; Cybele’s male priests castrated themselves as part of an initiation rite. From the frequency of his references to Cybele and the paucity of his references to other cults, it seems possible that Propertius himself was a devotee. Whether or not he actually was, in his poems he displays a fascination that bears directly on his themes of obsession—in his case, of an erotic nature. With knowledge of the myth and the ecstatic nature of Cybele’s rituals, we are able to sense a forceful psychological terror, accompanied by excitement, in Prop-

xxvii ertius’ references to the goddess. In his love relationships, he seeks a passion that is beyond reason. Responding rhetorically to a friend’s question as to why he is so eager for affairs, Propertius responds, “Why does a man mutilate his arms with sacred knives / and fall to the insane rhythms of the Phrygian?” (2.22 A.13–14). Musical elements played an important part in the goddess’s worship—flute, tambourine, cymbals, and horn were used— and the music itself may have appealed to Propertius: “the rhythmic lute and . . . Cybele’s bronze cymbals / and Lydian plectra sound with a mitered chorus” (4.7.61–62). In his day, poetry was often performed to musical accompaniment, and the word carmen can signify equally “poem” and “song.” Propertius also makes reference to Isis in two poems. Isis, like Cybele, enjoyed a significant religious following in Rome and, like Cybele, was imported from the east—in her case from Egypt. John Ferguson writes of Isis’ spread from Egypt and introduction to Rome in the Republican era, “At first at Rome politics and scandal bedevilled the cult, but it was widely popular, not least with the demi-monde.”8 As Sarah B. Pomeroy notes, “Eroticism and asceti- cism were mingled in the cult. Isis herself was said to have been a prostitute in Tyre for ten years . . . Her temples were located near brothels and marketplaces, and they had a reputation for being meeting places for prostitutes.” The mysteries that surrounded worship of Isis and of Cybele were thought to contain orgiastic sexual elements, but sex in these contexts had a powerful emotional, and in fact religious, component. “Social pleasure and sensual grat- ification were among the rewards of the devotees of Isis. Magnifi-

8 John Ferguson, The Religions of the Roman Empire (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1970), p. 25.

xxviii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR cent processions of worshipers and professional priests garbed in white linen proceeded to the edge of the sea to launch a sacred boat, accompanied by the rattle of the sistrum and the music of the ﬂute.”9 There was also a period of sexual abstinence for devotees; in poem 2.33 A, Propertius complains that Cynthia engages in this (see also 4.5.34).

In the programmatic ﬁrst poem to his ﬁnal book, Propertius pro- claims his readiness to write poetry on the history of Rome’s grandeur, claiming his place beside Ennius, the historic epic poet of Rome:

to me, Bacchus, extend your leaves of ivy, that Umbria, swelling with my books, be proud, Umbria, land of the Roman Callimachus! Whoever sees the citadels ascending from the valleys will value their walls by my genius! (4.1.62–66)

Propertius makes reference in his poems to Hellenistic poets, and it is clear that their influence forms an important component of his poetics. Propertius mentions Callimachus in five poems; in four, he refers to Philitas of Cos; and in one, to the Sicilian-born poet The- ocritus, who spent time in both Cos and Alexandria. Callimachus of Cyrene (c. 305–c. 240 B.C.E.) had an important position at the library in Alexandria and was a central figure in a literary debate on the best means to reinvigorate poetry. In Callimachus’ opinion, what was needed was a poetry of erudition, refinement—arcane and limited in scope. The Roman poets of the first century B.C.E. saw in

9 Pomeroy, Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves, p. 222.

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Callimachus’ poetry, and in the modern and urbane pastoral poetry of Theocritus (c. 310–c. 250 B.C.E.), ways to escape the rut of pompous epic poetry that, in Roman times, often served as a crude vehicle for propaganda or self-aggrandizement. All the poetry of Philitas (c. 320–c. 270 B.C.E.), famous for his work in elegiac verse, has been lost. The third poem of Propertius’ third book calls to mind the introduction to Callimachus’ set of poems called the Aitia. The Aitia, poems written in elegiac verse, purported to explain topics ranging from origins of names, rites, and traditions to natural phe- nomena. In the prologue to the Aitia, Callimachus writes:

“Go away, hateful race of Malice; from now on, judge knowledge by its art, not by the Persian land-measure; don’t expect a booming song to arise from me; thunder is not mine, but Zeus’s.” For when I first put a writing-block on my knees, Lykian Apollo said to me, “. . . Poet, feed your animal to make a fat sacrifice, but my friend, keep your Muse slender; and I urge you not to go where wagons have gone, don’t drive in others’ tracks on the wide road, but take unworn paths, even if your course be narrower.” (Callimachus, Aitia, 1.17–28) and in a passage from his Hymn to Apollo, Callimachus has Apollo putting his support behind a rarefied poetic style:

Envy whispered into Apollo’s ear, “I admire not the poet who sings not wide as the sea.”

xxx PRESERVING THE METAPHOR

Apollo kicked Envy aside and said, “The Assyrian river is a mighty stream, but it carries so much filth and so much refuse in its water. The Bees don’t bring Demeter every kind of water, but only the pure and undefiled water that trickles from a holy spring, the choicest flow.” (Callimachus, Hymn to Apollo, 105–112)

Propertius begins the third poem of book 3 ready to drink from the rushing river of epic poetry, when he is upbraided by Apollo, who sets him straight. Propertius must stick to love poetry:

“What does this river have to do with you, you ﬂake? Who asked you to try heroic poetry? There’s no success awaiting you here, Propertius: small wheels are for tilling soft ﬁelds” . . . (3.3.15–18)

“Why does your page drift from its prescribed course? Your genius’ skiff must not be overloaded.” (3.3.21–22)

Propertius’ use of mythology is distinctive: in many cases, details and emphases of myths are different in Propertius than in other sur- viving sources. The myths were received by Romans and Greeks in various versions, and poets in particular felt free to mold them to their uses. Still, the frequency of Propertian anomalies points to a willful use of the material, which is not always logically consistent, though it is poetically effective. In the ﬁrst poem of his ﬁrst book, Propertius uses Milanion’s wooing of Atalanta as an example of the extents to which the lover must go to secure his beloved. As soon as we realize that Atalanta is being referred to (Propertius actually

xxxi uses her patronymic, calling her the Iasid, as daughter of Iasus), we expect the famous story of the golden apples, laid in her path by Milanion (or Hippomenes) to distract her long enough that she may be defeated in a foot race, thus securing her hand in marriage. Propertius refers instead to Milanion’s bravery in confronting wild animals and the Centaur Hylaeus. There are many such cases in Propertius, in which he subverts expectations as to the emphasis a particular myth should take. Another element underpinning Propertius’ aesthetic is the use of rhetorical models. Several of his poems make sense when seen in the light of rhetorical exercises. Propertius takes these exercises—or ways of thinking—as starting points, imaginatively grafting onto them literary elements and details from personal life. Although such models were taught as preparation for political and legal speeches, their use is equally applicable to poetry. Any mode of speech that attempts to be convincing can make use of rhetoric. Rhetorical models that can be identiﬁed in Propertius’ poems include praise of a certain custom or set of customs (3.14, on the Spartan gymnasium), the refusal to take on an obligation (2.1 and 3.9, to Maece- nas), the consolation in time of loss (1.10.18, “not light is the medicine in my words” and 3.18.22, on the death of Marcellus, “it’s horrible, but that road must be traveled by all”), and the “essay” on a given topic (2.12 has similarities to the rhetorical exercise, “Why is the boy Love depicted with wings?”). Roman poetry had a tendency to personalize itself. This is apparent in Propertius’ use of proper names and in the speciﬁc ways his poems are directed to individuals, while simultaneously intended for a wider readership. Propertius’ poems make complex use of modes of address. We can follow evolving relationships to addressees, and the poet uses address as a means to innovate development of

xxxii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR tone. Shifts of address can occur within poems at moments of intense emotion. Poem 1.3 sets a pattern in which Propertius shifts from describing Cynthia in the third person, to addressing her in the second person, and back to describing her in the third person. In poem 3.7, an attack on avarice in the context of the death of a young man at sea, the frequent shifts of addressee (Money, Paetus, Aquilo, Neptune, lowly sand, curved ships, Nereids, Thetis) convey the frustration of the narrator in the face of unexpected disaster. Several references in Propertius’ poetry to visual art have a clarity that indicates both that he had access to some of the great frescoes, sculptures, and mosaics of his time, and that visual art informed his poetry as a parallel art form. In one poem, he claims an equivalence between the beauty of his girlfriend and the beauty of esteemed works of art:

If someone wishes to surpass the fame of classic paintings, let him turn my mistress into art as an example: if he shows her in the West or in the East, she enﬂames the East, she enﬂames the West. (2.3.41–44)

Propertius’ morality is sometimes difﬁcult to locate, seemingly in- consistent. He revels in his relationship with Cynthia, with its un- approved status as regarded by those who would support Augustus’ moral legislation; yet when his affair is in danger—when Cynthia is traveling or being unfaithful—he chides her in terms that seem moralistic. In one poem, he bemoans the painting of lewd scenes on the walls of building interiors:

The hand that ﬁrst painted obscene pictures, placing ﬁlth in chaste homes for all to see,

xxxiii

corrupted the trusting eyes of girls to demonstrate its proﬁciency in lewdness. (2.6.27–30)

As the poem proceeds, it appears the poet is referring to the revela- tion of religious mysteries, that what he objects to is not only the lewdness of the images but the fact that they represent a betrayal of the sacred trust of mysteries, and that betrayal carries with it a sig- niﬁcant moral opprobrium:

Let him groan in the darkness, who revealed by that art orgies once hidden by respectful joy! In the old days, they didn’t decorate their houses with those ﬁgures: back then, no wall was painted with pornography. No wonder the spider has taken over the shrine and weeds occupy what the gods left behind. (2.6.31–36)

Poem 2.12 offers a remarkable example of an ancient poem as a description of a work of art (be it an actual or imaginary one). The poem gives itself over not so much to description as to praise of the painter’s intelligence and skill:

Whoever he was who painted the boy Love, don’t you think he had wonderful hands? He was the first to see that lovers live without logic, that the good things in life are destroyed by frivolous desires. The same man wisely added wind-filled wings, and he made the god fly from a human heart . . . (2.12.1–6)

Propertius published four books of poetry during his lifetime. They can be dated approximately, and from internal evidence in the

xxxiv PRESERVING THE METAPHOR poems we can surmise the approximate dates of his birth and death. From the first poem of the fourth book, it can be estimated that Propertius was born in 57 B.C.E., or slightly later.10 In addition to Vergil and Horace, whom he must have known, Propertius seems to have become friends with his younger contemporary, Ovid, who was born in 43 B.C.E. Ovid writes of having heard Propertius recite his poems, and certainly Ovid’s own Amores show a debt to Prop- ertius’ poems, despite their differences in style and emotional intensity.11 From a passage in Ovid’s Remedia Amoris, we can deduce that Propertius had died by 2 C.E., when that work was written, since Ovid writes of his friend in the past tense.12 By references to datable events, we can make the following estimates for the dates of publication of Propertius’ four books: 30, 26, 23, and 16 B.C.E. The first book centers on Propertius’ tempestuous relationship with Cynthia. She is named in thirteen of the twenty-two (or twenty-three, including a subdivision)13 poems in book 1, and seems to be referred to in more. In fact, it is only in the book’s final three poems that attention shifts from the topic of his loves. Since Propertius always carefully selects his initial and closing poems, the first poem of book 1 is clearly a programmatic poem for the book, establishing as the dominant mode for the reader the debased state of the narrator, as one who has been dominated by Love. Book 2 is by far the longest, with thirty-four (or forty-seven, including subdivisions) poems, in eleven of which Cynthia is men-

10 The analysis of dating is that of W. A. Camps in the introduction to his commentary of Sextus Propertius’ Elegies: Book I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961), pp. 5–7. 11 Ovid, Tristia, 4.10.45 ff. 12 Ovid, Remedia Amoris, line 763. 13 Occasionally, poems in Propertius’ manuscripts that are given as single pieces have been supposed by scholars to be composed of multiple poems; usually, these poems are indicated by subdivisions and the letters “A,” “B,” etc., after the poem’s number in the manuscript.

xxxv tioned by name, although she is probably the unidentified woman referred to in others. It is a book in which topics other than his affair intrude with greater frequency. In particular, the concern with the nature and definition of his own poetry becomes more urgent, and that concern is stressed by its prominence as the subject for the book’s inital and concluding poems. Poem 2.1 is also the first of two poems addressed to his supporter Maecenas. In poem 2.10, Propertius intimates that he can foresee writing poetry extolling “valiant troops at war” (2.10.3), but by the end of the poem implies he is still not ready. The ups and downs of his affair, infideli- ties, and travels, are all presented. In poem 2.22 A, Propertius claims he will no longer limit himself to one woman; he will have many affairs simultaneously, and in poem 2.23 he reiterates his desire to be with the “liberated girl who steps out with cloak thrown back” (2.23.13). When he refers to “girls the Euphrates and Orontes / send” (2.23.21–22), it seems he will be enjoying the company of prostitutes sent to Rome from eastern lands. Shortly thereafter (2.24 C and 2.25), he seems to have returned to the idea of having no choice but to serve one woman, and in 2.26 A he recounts a dream involving his beloved. Variety is introduced into the book by Propertius’ inventive use of setting and context, an inheri- tance from the Hellenistic poets and also from rhetorical exercises. In one poem, he is accosted by a band of cupids (2.29 A); in another, he spies on Cynthia as she sleeps (2.29 B); a third describes the portico to the Temple to Apollo on the Palatine on the occasion of its dedication by Octavian after his victory over Antony and Cleopatra at Actium (2.31). The book’s final poem (2.34) includes praise of Propertius’ contemporary Vergil. The laudatory terms in which he writes of Vergil’s work in bucolic, didactic, and epic poetry leave the door open for his own brand of love elegy also to

xxxvi PRESERVING THE METAPHOR reach those heights. If Vergil will be the Roman Homer, why can Propertius not be the Roman Callimachus, as he will later claim to be? Here, he is content to conclude with a list of predecessors in Latin love poetry in whose company he wishes to have a place— Varro, Catullus, Calvus, and Gallus (considered by many to have invented Roman love elegy). With book 3, Propertius’ desire for poetic greatness has beome preeminent. There are twenty-five (or twenty-six with a subdivision) poems, some of which have love as their subject, but in a more detached way than previously. Four of the first five poems deal either with various claims to poetic stature or with plans for different poetic subjects. He is also developing a grander scope in his poems, in their conception, invention, and rhetorical sweep, which will cul- minate in the long poems of book 4. Cynthia is not mentioned by name in book 3 before poem 21, and the seriousness of Propertius’ position as critical of the Empire begins to harden. Is it going too far to call him an antiwar poet? True, he attempts to be diplomatic when addressing Maecenas and referring to Augustus, and in fact of the three poets patronized by Maecenas, and thus enjoying direct access to Augustus, he is the only one to call the leader deus Caesar, the “god Caesar.” Nevertheless, though Propertius cheers on Au- gustus and his legions in poem 3.4, his own position is separate: “for me it will be enough to be allowed to applaud on the Via Sacra” (3.4.22). He is unable to fight, but there is more to it than that. As we see in other poems, he has a personal stance against the greed that leads men to conquest. In poem 3.7, the death at sea of a friend named Paetus occasions a direct outpouring:

Money, you are the cause of life’s problems! Because of you, we travel to death too soon.

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You offer cruel sustenance to men’s vices: seeds of trouble grow from your root. (3.7.1–4)

Another poem (3.13), which begins as a complaint against girls who ask for too many presents from their lovers, voices a longing for simpler times and a forceful attack against the cult of gold:

But now, the shrines lie empty, the torches gone out: piety already defeated, everyone cultivates money. Romance driven out by money, justice sold for money, the law follows money, and now, without law, shame follows. (3.13.47–50)

Propertius ends the poem with a prophecy, though, like Cassandra, he fears his warning will not be heard:

I will speak out:—and I hope I’ll be a true prophet for my country!— proud Rome herself is shattered by her own goods. (3.13.59–60)

The death of Gaius Claudius Marcellus, Augustus’ nephew, intended heir to his power and husband of his daughter Julia, prompts from Propertius a realization of the vanity of worldly possessions and honors. The air, thick with sarcasm, is cut by death’s inevitability:

Go now, lift your spirits and contrive triumphs for yourself, let all the theaters exult in standing ovations; surpass Attalic finery, let all the jewels be present at the great festivals: you will give these things to the fires. But anyway we all end up there, from the first to the last row. (3.18.17–21)

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In poem 3.22, Propertius again addresses his friend Tullus, to whom he contrasted himself in book 1. Again, Tullus is the man of war and Propertius uses him as a foil, in this case cleverly to sing the praises of Italy, since Tullus has been living in Asia Minor. The book ends with two somber poems, in which Propertius once again declares himself cured of his love obsession. Book 4, Propertius’ final book, must have been a surprise to his readers, and it still surprises us today. Throughout his life, he kept changing his poetic strategies, never content to repeat a format or treat a subject in an identical manner. Book 4 has only eleven poems, but they are much longer than his earlier ones. It is the book in which he most tries to live up to the Callimachean standard of writing poems on erudite subjects, brilliant tours de force of poetic technique. Some readers will miss the everyday quality of some of the early poems, but there was always a strong rhetorical element in Propertius’ work, and book 4 contains one of the most vivid of all his poems about love (4.8). The first poem of book 4 is in two sections. In the first, ostensibly spoken by the poet, he claims to be ready to sing of “[r]ites and holy days . . . and ancient names of places”(4.1.69). The second part is spoken in the voice of a seer who, as Apollo did in poem 3.3, tells Propertius to stick to subjects and styles appropriate to him. Of course, the seer’s very reply refutes his advice, as it is an example of Propertius’ considerable abilities in the area of invention, if not in historical relevance. The resonance of a poet’s work with the tenor of his times—or its ability to sound a significant counter-melody— is due, in large part, to the poet’s character. This is precisely what Propertius has always claimed: that it is his nature to write of love, not of Roman martial topics. On the other hand, he need not write only of love, or only from a direct, passionately involved, first-

xxxix person perspective. In the fourth book, we ﬁnd ample evidence of his abilities to spin out detailed fantasy, such as that on the origins of the god Vertumnus (4.2). Sometimes these ostensibly serious poems end with a bit of humor. Wit was prized more by the Alexan- drians than weightiness, and it is wit that Propertius provides. In poem 4.5, he returns to the arena of love, this time through the voice of an old procuress. Several of the poems in book 4 include lengthy speeches, and the bawd, as she speaks in poem 4.5, is rem- iniscent of characters from Roman comedy. Poem 4.7 recounts a dream in which the ghost of Cynthia appeared to Propertius. We assume the truth of the premise—that Cynthia has died—yet the in- teraction between the two, though a dream and not a direct encounter, is one of Propertius’ most memorable examples. Poem 4.8 has been noted as giving important details on how an upper-class Roman might conduct a drinking party:

There was one little bed for three in a hidden garden. You need a laying plan? I lay between the two.

The entire alleyway echoes with my insane party. Their hair a shambles, their tunics falling off, they rush into the ﬁrst tavern on the darkened street. (4.8.60–62)

The meter in which Propertius chose to write, elegiac meter, is composed of couplets—one line in dactylic hexameter followed by

xl PRESERVING THE METAPHOR one referred to as iambic pentameter, though it is in fact composed by taking the ﬁrst two and a half feet of a line of dactylic hexameter and then repeating them:

As will be noted, dactyls may be substituted by spondees in the first half of the pentameter but not in the second half. A caesura is felt between the two halves of the pentameter line. In this meter, a thought is often expounded in the first line of a couplet, then com- mented on or countered in the second. The shorter pentameter often brings the ranging hexameter down to earth, especially in Propertius’ poetry. The thoughts in elegiac poetry tend to travel by the couplet and often in series of couplets. While elegiac meter is composed by the couplet and not by the stanza, we can identify groupings of couplets that, devoted as they are to a particular train of thought or emotion, end up functioning like stanzas. Though stanza breaks are not indicated in the manuscripts, I have chosen to group sections into stanzas and to present them in this way.14 The elegiac meter was developed by Greek poets of the seventh century B.C.E., who often treated themes of war, though Mimner- mos and others wrote of love and the glory of fleeting youth. It seems that the Greek word elegos comes not from the root that means “lament” but rather from a foreign word for “flute,” indi-

14 I arrived at my divisions of the poems into stanzas independently and later found that W. A. Camps, in his editions of Propertius, had also divided the poems, many times in the same places. One should keep in mind that such divisions are merely indications; they are not deﬁnitive. The manuscripts do not show divisions within poems.

xli cating that Greek elegiac poetry was meant to be recited to a ﬂute accompaniment. When we speak of elegiac couplets, elegiac verse, elegiac meter, the connotation is usually of sadness and regret but as regards the poems of Propertius, the term “elegy” has more to do with meter than with subject matter. In the main, these are love poems, and though they may express regret for a lost feeling of intensity, this “elegiac” quality is ancillary, as it is almost always coun- terbalanced by emotion directly experienced in the present tense. In my translations, I have not used any metrical scheme, but I have endeavored to reﬂect the placement of thoughts within lines, where possible. In particular, I have tried to maintain the tendancy in Propertius’ poetry, made possible by Latin word order, for holding back the key word until the end of a sentence or line. I have also tried to include an enjambment in the English where there was one in the Latin, though not necessarily of the same word. I have attempted at times to imitate the Latin word order, with the goal of obtaining a similar poetic effect of thrusting key words at the reader in a rapid manner, whose connection and syntax are revealed with a slight delay.

The actual process of writing and distributing texts in antiquity dif- fered greatly from what we do today. In Propertius’ time, a well-off person often had one or more sets of writing tablets: wooden frames fastened by thongs, with wax surfaces inside on which one would write with a stylus, later rubbing the impressions out to write a new text. When folded together, the two wax surfaces were protected, and the whole could be bound and sent as a message to someone (see 3.23). Published books appeared in the form of papyrus rolls. We can surmise that the amount of effort required to make one papyrus roll twenty feet in length, plus the additional labor to hand let-

xlii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR ter the text, would preclude large editions. We may imagine something along the lines of today’s smallest presses. Public performance offered another way to publicize one’s work. Interestingly, two of Propertius’ models—the Hellenistic poets Callimachus and Phili- tas—to whom he refers at key points in the poems, were both known to be involved in the editing of books. This care for the concept of a book—what it means to collect certain poems and place them in a certain sequence—is clearly felt in Propertius’ own publications. There is some debate over the most sensible way to divide certain poems in Propertius, and this debate is couched in a larger debate regarding the overall condition of his text. As with many ancient authors, we are working with a shifting mosaic, a superimposition of texts; various editors contribute their input to the discussion, and text is never a ﬁxed thing. Since the manuscripts we have of Proper- tius (the earliest from around 1200 C.E., the next earliest from around 1300 C.E.) are the result of centuries of copying and recopy- ing, mistakes and confusions have crept into them. In analyzing the Latin texts of Propertius, we are forced to consider the various manuscripts and their dates and authority; after studying the reasoning of textual and literary scholars, we must try to decide on a valid reading of the texts. We must concede that certain words have been damaged and are, in their original forms, irretrievable. The text in the current edition is based mainly on the Oxford Uni- versity Press edition of Sexti Properti Carmina of 1960, edited by E. A. Barber; and the editions of Elegies published in the 1960s by Cambridge University Press, edited by W. A. Camps. When a particular line cannot ﬁt into the elegiac meter, or when there is an obvious problem of concordance in number or gender, we can surmise a textual error and editors have suggested various solutions. A different type of problem appears when we have a construction or word

xliii usage for which there is no parallel in Latin literature, or in the literature of the period. In those cases, I have been extremely reluctant to deviate from the manuscript reading since, it seems to me, it is in precisely those situations that a poet proves his worth by his ability to transform language—slightly or, on occasion, drastically—and to achieve a structure or expression which had not previously existed. This is not all Propertius does, but it numbers among his most important achievements. On certain occasions, I have chosen a scholar’s emendation when, in my judgment, the manuscript reading seemed insufﬁciently Propertian. In rare cases, I have chosen a manuscript reading defended by neither Barber nor Camps. When, following the standard editions, I have subdivided what is given in the manuscripts as a single poem, the use of letters “A,” “B,” and “C” makes it clear that, though separate, these poems bear a signiﬁcant relationship to one another. Propertius (assuming it was he who gave the books the overall shape they now have) paid close attention to the sequencing of poems and intimate transition. Regarding the divisions of his poems, where we choose to say one poem ends and a new one begins is sometimes less important than becoming sensitive to shifts and continuities within and between poems. I have been attentive to the poet’s word usage: his repetitions of words within poems, and the importance of word concepts across poems and books. One word that struck me as particularly important to Propertius’ idea of happiness in love is decus, which can be translated as “grace” or “charm.” Vivid words are used to describe a person suffering from love as a form of madness against which there is no help—insanus, vesanus, demens, amens; other words signify the lover’s state as a kind of bondage—addictus, humilis. “Love night” gives the sense of what is often meant by Propertius’ use of

xliv PRESERVING THE METAPHOR the Latin nox. Night, in his poems, is a pregnant term, a pregnant time, a time of lecti copia facta, “abundance gathered in bed” (2.20.24). It is sex, but it is more than sex: it is happiness, it is escape from the dull measuring rod of normal existence. It is also a belief that one will indeed ﬁnd happiness, somewhere, someday, even if only for a few ﬂeeting hours. Via—“way” or “path”—and iter—“journey”—seem to take on more and more metaphorical connotations, until, in his fourth book, the journey to the beyond is given literal consideration.

A transformation occurred in Propertius’ poetry from his ﬁrst book to his last, as can be seen in three treatments of the battle of Ac- tium. The battle had come up in the context of the perversion of Antony’s passion for the foreign woman, Cleopatra (the “leader” is Antony):

Check the leader, who has ﬁlled the Actian seas with damned soldiers, in an inane roar: scandalous love forced him to show his back, his ships turned round, and to seek refuge at the ends of the earth. Caesar’s excellence, Caesar’s glory is this: with that victorious hand, he buried his weapons. (2.16.37–42)

Propertius devotes a large portion of poem 3.11 to the subject. After an extended passage of invective against Cleopatra and re- minders of the shame she had brought to Rome, the poet ends his poem with an ambiguous tally for Actium: “one day suffered so much work of war” (3.11.70). Poem 4.6, with its apparent eulogy of Octavian’s success at the battle of Actium, after which he become princeps, has been the sub-

xlv ject of vigorous debate. Some critics see in it a grand illusion, an im- maculately crafted façade of praise and approval behind which there lies only apathy. This may be, but it is difficult to find the cracks in the façade. Another possibility presents itself. In books 2 and 3, Propertius was able to present elaborate recusationes, “refusals,” to his friend Maecenas’ request for state poetry. After 23 B.C.E., Mae- cenas seems to have been less close to the emperor. Since Proper- tius’ fourth book appears to have been written between 23 and 16 B.C.E., it is possible that the poems were written without Mae- cenas’ direct influence and that, in that period, when relations between poets and the emperor were still vital, a connection between Augustus and Propertius may have been maintained. From poems 2.1 and 3.9 we sense that there was some play between Propertius and Maecenas, that the poet felt he had the liberty to make a recusatio. Perhaps, absent Maecenas, that play was no longer present and the need for propaganda, always a primary element of Augus- tus’ interest in poets, came to impact on Propertius more directly and with less subtlety. This, in my opinion, is a reasonable scenario in which to imagine Propertius writing the poems of book 4, and in particular its centerpiece, the Actium poem. Propertius has Apollo speak these lines to Augustus in the moments leading up to the battle:

“O guardian of the world from Alba Longa, Augustus, more famous than Hector and your other ancestors, conquer the sea: earth is already yours: my bow ﬁghts for you and this whole quiver on my shoulders is on your side. Deliver your nation from fear, which now, with you as protector of the waves, has laid public prayers on your prow.” (4.6.37–42)

xlvi PRESERVING THE METAPHOR

The battle, Apollo’s assistance, and the crushing defeat of Antony and Cleopatra are described, along with a comment from Julius Caesar, watching from heaven: “I’m a god; that commitment comes from my blood.” A glimmer of dissatisfaction can be found in the lines which begin the poem’s ﬁnal section:

I’ve sung enough of war: Apollo is already asking for the zither, and the victor takes off his armor to join the peaceful dances. (4.6.69–70)

But this is followed directly by a list of possible future topics for war songs, including that ever-important subject, the avenging of the defeat of the Crassi at the hands of the Parthians in 53 B.C.E.An- other possible glimpse of distaste: the poet informs Crassus that he can now rejoice, “if you feel anything, beneath the black sands” (4.6.83). The poem’s concluding couplet brings the poet ﬁrmly back into his familiar orbit, that of wine and poetry. Poem 4.6 con- vinces as political poetry; we may be able to ﬁnd faint glimmers of melancholy peeking through, but they are few, and there is certainly nothing of the disdain familiar from his earlier treatments of the topic. Propertius had entered a new phase and acted in accor- dance with it. He seems to have retreated from his previous, strongly worded, antiwar position. In poem 4.7, Cynthia’s ghost comes to speak to Propertius in a dream. After berating him for not respecting her funeral rites and memory, she ends by giving Propertius her epitaph and the following advice:

Don’t spurn the dreams that come through the portals of truth: when true dreams come, they have weight. (4.7.87–88)

xlvii

This passage brings to mind both Homer’s account in the Odyssey (19.562–7) and Vergil’s in the Aeneid (6.893–6) of the two gate- ways through which dreams can come. Vergil writes:

There are separate gates for dreams: one, they say, is of horn, and through it easy passage is granted to true shadows; the other is a polished glow of gleaming ivory, but from this gate the Manes send false dreams toward the sky. (Vergil, Aeneid 6.893–96)

The challenge is for the living person to be able to interpret his or her own dreams and to tell which ones are true, and what that means. In Propertius’ mind, the two types of dreams seem distinct from, but related to, the two streams (or two parts of the same stream) that carry the just and unjust to the afterlife: “For separate resting places are alloted beyond the vile stream, / and each party is rowed across different waters” (4.7.55–56). The final poem of book 4 has often been praised as a tribute to Roman virtue. The Roman matron was idealized as the nurturer— both mother and wife—of Rome’s valiant warrior manhood. Ironi- cally perhaps, Propertius, known primarily for his love poems to a courtesan and poems on topics of loose morality, published, as the final poem in his final book, what one writer has called the “most magnificent of all memorials to Roman women.”15 It is more than that. It is a vision of human mortality that takes up the “elegiac” part of the elegiac poet’s mantle. Since it is, in its entirety, a speech in the voice of a recently deceased soul, it is possible to read parts of it as though the poet is imagining himself speaking after his own

15 Otto Kiefer, translated by Gilbert and Helen Highet, Sexual Life in Ancient Rome (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1934), p. 27.

xlviii PRESERVING THE METAPHOR death. When we read the final lines of Propertius’ final book, we hear him make his final, urgent plea:

“My case has been argued. Rise, witnesses, and mourn me, until the grateful earth rewards the value of my life. Even the heavens have opened to certain virtues: may I be worthy by merit, my bones conveyed by the honorable waters.” (4.11.99–102)

xlix

BOOK ONE

Cynthia was the ﬁrst. She caught me with her eyes . . .

I.i Cynthia prima suis miserum me cepit ocellis, contactum nullis ante cupidinibus. tum mihi constantis deiecit lumina fastus et caput impositis pressit Amor pedibus, donec me docuit castas odisse puellas 5 improbus, et nullo uiuere consilio. et mihi iam toto furor hic non deﬁcit anno, cum tamen aduersos cogor habere deos.

Milanion nullos fugiendo, Tulle, labores saeuitiam durae contudit Iasidos. 10 nam modo Partheniis amens errabat in antris, ibat et hirsutas ille uidere feras; ille etiam Hylaei percussus uulnere rami saucius Arcadiis rupibus ingemuit. ergo uelocem potuit domuisse puellam: 15 tantum in amore preces et bene facta ualent. in me tardus Amor non ullas cogitat artis, nec meminit notas, ut prius, ire uias. at uos, deducatae quibus est fallacia lunae et labor in magicis sacra piare focis, 20 en agedum dominae mentem conuertite nostrae, et facite illa meo palleat ore magis! tunc ego crediderim uobis et sidera et amnis posse Cytinaeis ducere carminibus. et uos, qui sero lapsum reuocatis, amici, 25 quaerite non sani pectoris auxilia.

2 BOOK ONE POEM 1.1

1.1 Cynthia was the ﬁrst. She caught me with her eyes, a fool who had never before been touched by desires. Love cast down my look of constant pride, and he pressed on my head with his feet, until he taught me to despise chaste girls, perversely, and to live without plan. Already, it’s been a whole year that the frenzy hasn’t stopped, when, for all that, the gods are against me.

It wasn’t by running away from difﬁculty, Tullus, that Milanion crushed the hard Iasid’s savagery. He wandered mad in Parthenian caves, face to face with hairy beasts. One time, shocked by a wound from Hylaeus’ stick, he groaned in pain on the Arcadian cliffs. That’s how he was able to dominate that swift girl: so much are prayers and exploits worth in love.

But in me Love is slow, does not stimulate any art, and he forgets to go on ways he used to know. You who do that trick with the moon, who perform rites on magic altars, change my mistress’ mind, make her face more pale than my own! Then I’ll believe in you, that you can lead stars and streams from their paths with Cytinean songs.

But you, who call me too late as I slip away, friends, get help for the insane.

3 fortiter et ferrum saeuos patiemur et ignis sit modo libertas quae uelit ira loqui. ferte per extremas gentis et ferte per undas, qua non ulla meum femina norit iter. 30 uos remanete, quibus facili deus annuit aure, sitis et in tuto semper amore pares. in me nostra Venus noctes exercet amaras, et nullo uacuus tempore deﬁt Amor. hoc, moneo, uitate malum: sua quemque moretur 35 cura, neque assueto mutet amore locum. quod si quis monitis tardas aduerterit auris, heu referet quanto uerba dolore mea!

4 BOOK ONE POEM 1.1

Bravely will I endure knife and savage ﬁres, just let me say whatever I want in my rage. Take me to exotic peoples, across the waves, where no woman may know my path. You stay, to whom the god has easily consented; may you be equal always, in a safe love. On me old Venus works bitter nights, and Love is at no time absent.

Avoid this evil, I’m warning you. Let each one linger with his sweetheart and not change place from an accustomed love. Because if anyone should turn slow ears to these warnings, he’ll see how they’ll come back to haunt him!

I.ii Quid iuuat ornato procedere, uita, capillo et tenuis Coa ueste mouere sinus, aut quid Orontea crinis perfundere murra, teque peregrinis uendere muneribus, naturaeque decus mercato perdere cultu, 5 nec sinere in propriis membra nitere bonis. crede mihi, non ulla tuae est medicina figurae: nudus Amor formae non amat artificem. aspice quos summittat humus formosa colores, ut ueniant hederae sponte sua melius, 10 surgat et in solis formosius arbutus antris, et sciat indocilis currere lympha uias. litora natiuis persuadent picta lapillis, et uolucres nulla dulcius arte canunt. non sic Leucippis succendit Castora Phoebe, 15 Pollucem cultu non Hilaira soror; non, Idae et cupido quondam discordia Phoebo, Eueni patriis filia litoribus; nec Phrygium falso traxit candore maritum auecta externis Hippodamia rotis: 20 sed facies aderat nullis obnoxia gemmis, qualis Apelleis est color in tabulis. non illis studium uulgo conquirere amantis: illis ampla satis forma pudicitia. non ego nunc uereor ne sim tibi uilior istis: 25 uni si qua placet, culta puella sat est;

6 BOOK ONE POEM 1.2

1.2 What’s the point of walking around, love, with your hair all done up, whirling ﬁne robes of Coan silk? Why do you drench your hair in Orontean myrrh and sell yourself with foreign enticements? You lose your natural charm with storebought sophistication, and you don’t allow your limbs to shine in their own splendor.

Believe me, there’s no way to improve your ﬁgure: nude Love doesn’t love artiﬁce in beauty. Look what colors the beautiful earth sends forth, how the ivies come better of their own accord. The arbutus surges more beautifully in lonely glens, and water, untaught, knows how to run its course. The shore persuades, painted in its own pebbles, and birds sing sweeter without any art.

Phoebe didn’t turn on Castor, nor did her sister, Hilaira, Pollux, with sophistication; nor did the daughter of Euenus on her native shore, when there was that quarrel between Idas and desirous Phoebus. It wasn’t fake beauty that got Hippodamia a Phrygian husband and a trip on foreign wheels. Her beauty wasn’t dependent on gems the color of Apelles’ paintings. They had no desire to collect their lovers commonly: modesty was beauty enough for them.

I’m not afraid of seeming cheaper than those other men: if she’s pleasing to one man, a girl is sophisticated enough.

7 cum tibi praesertim Phoebus sua carmina donet Aoniamque libens Calliopea lyram, unica nec desit iucundis gratia uerbis, omnia quaeque Venus, quaeque Minerua probat. 30 his tu semper eris nostrae gratissima uitae, taedia dum miserae sint tibi luxuriae.

8 BOOK ONE POEM 1.2

Especially when Phoebus gives you his songs, and Calliope is liberal with the Aonian lyre. It lacks no grace, your happy speech, which is everything Venus, everything Minerva approves. That’s how you’ll always be the best thing in my life: as long as those horrible luxuries bore you.

I.iii Qualis Thesea iacuit cedente carina languida desertis Cnosia litoribus; qualis et accubuit primo Cepheia somno, libera iam duris cotibus Andromede; nec minus assiduis Edonis fessa choreis 5 qualis in herboso concidit Apidano: talis uisa mihi mollem spirare quietem Cynthia non certis nixa caput manibus, ebria cum multo traherem uestigia Baccho, et quaterent sera nocte facem pueri. 10 hanc ego, nondum etaim sensus deperditus omnis molliter impresso conor adire toro; et quamuis duplici correptum ardore iuberent hac Amor hac Liber, durus uterque deus, subiecto leuiter positam temptare lacerto 15 osculaque admota sumere et arma manu, non tamen ausus eram dominae turbare quietem, expertae metuens iurgia saeuitiae; sed sic intentis haerebam ﬁxus ocellis, Argus ut ignotis cornibus Inachidos. 20 et modo soluebam nostra de fronte corollas ponebamque tuis, Cynthia, temporibus; et modo gaudebam lapsos formare capillos; nunc furtiua cauis poma dabam manibus; omniaque ingrato largibar munera somno, 25 munera de prono saepe uoluta sinu;

10 BOOK ONE POEM 1.3

1.3 She lay, Theseus’ ship sailing away, languid on lonely shores, the Knossian girl; and Cepheus’ daughter collapsed in ﬁrst sleep just free from the hard stone, Andromeda; no less the Edonian bacchante, worn from dances, when she fell by the grassy Apidanus: so seemed she, breathing gentle quiet, Cynthia, supporting her head on relaxed hands, when I was dragging my feet drunk with much Bacchus, and the boys shook the torch late in the night.

Not yet having completely lost sensation, I try to approach softly, pressing on the couch, and although a pair commanded me, gripped with lust— Love on one side, Liber the other, each a hard god— to test her lightly, lifting up her arm, and to take kisses, my weapon in hand, yet I didn’t dare disturb my mistress’ quiet, fearing the outbursts of her well-known cruelty.

But I remained ﬁxed, my eyes intent, like Argus with the strange horns of Inachus’ daughter. And now I take the garland from my forehead and place it on your temples, Cynthia. Now I delight to redo your fallen hair. Now I give furtive fruits to empty hands. I lavish all these gifts on ungrateful sleep, gifts that roll repeatedly from dangling breasts.

11 et quotiens raro duxti suspiria motu, obstupui uano credulus auspicio, ne qua tibi insolitos portarent uisa timores, neue quis inuitam cogeret esse suam: 30 donec diuersas praecurrens luna fenestras, luna moraturis sedula luminibus, compositos leuibus radiis patefecit ocellos.

sic ait in molli ﬁxa toro cubitum: “tandem te nostro referens iniuria lecto 35 alterius clausis expulit et foribus? namque ubi longa meae consumpsti tempora noctis, languidus exactis, ei mihi, sideribus? o utinam talis perducas, improbe, noctes, me miseram qualis semper habere iubes! 40 nam modo purpureo fallebam stamine somnum, rursus et Orpheae carmine, fessa, lyrae; interdum leuiter mecum deserta querebar externo longas saepe in amore moras: dum me iucundis lapsam sopor impulit alis. 45 illa fuit lacrimis ultima cura meis.”

12 BOOK ONE POEM 1.3

And each time you take breath with a sudden motion, I am stupeﬁed, believing in an empty sign, that some vision has brought you unaccustomed fears, or someone is forcing you unwillingly to be his, until the moon, running across different windows, the moon, busy with lingering moonbeams, opens your composed eyes with its light rays.

So she speaks, fixing her elbow on the soft couch, “Have another’s insults finally brought you back, expelled from her doors, to our bed? Where did you consume the long hours of my night, still languid, my god, with the stars disappearing? If only you could experience the nights you always force me to endure, you asshole! At first I evaded sleep with the purple thread, and again, exhausted, with song of the Orphic lyre. Now and then, I complained lightly to myself the frequent long delays when your lover is about: until sleep pushed me, slipping, with his delicious wings. He at last cured my crying.”

I.iv Quid mihi tam multas laudando, Basse, puellas mutatum domina cogis abire mea? quid me non pateris uitae quodcumque sequetur hoc magis assueto ducere seruitio? tu licet Antiopae formam Nycteidos, et tu 5 Spartanae referas laudibus Hermionae, et quascumque tulit formosi temporis aetas; Cynthia non illas nomen habere sinat: nedum, si leuibus fuerit collata ﬁguris, inferior duro iudice turpis eat. 10 haec sed forma mei pars est extrema furoris; sunt maiora, quibus, Basse, perire iuuat: ingenuus color et multis decus artibus, et quae gaudia sub tacita dicere ueste libet. quo magis et nostros contendis soluere amores, 15 hoc magis accepta fallit uterque ﬁde. non impune feres: sciet haec insana puella et tibi non tacitis uocibus hostis erit; nec tibi me post haec committet Cynthia nec te quaeret; erit tanti criminis illa memor, 20 et te circum omnis alias irata puellas differet: heu nullo limine carus eris.

14 BOOK ONE POEM 1.4

1.4 Why, Bassus, are you praising all these girls, tempting me to change and leave my mistress? Why don’t you let me serve my usual bondage for whatever is left to me of life? Go ahead and swoon over Antiope’s beauty, praise Spartan Hermione and all the others the ages of beauty bore. Cynthia won’t allow their names to be spoken: and if you compare her to lesser beauties, she is superior, even to the most demanding arbiter.

But this “beauty” is the least cause of my passion. There are stronger attractions, Bassus, for which it is a joy to perish: a natural color and skill in many arts, and pleasures one should keep under wraps. The more you struggle to dissolve our love, the more our happy bond deceives you.

You won’t go unpunished: the girl will know your ravings and she will be quite a vocal enemy. Cynthia won’t entrust me to you after this, and she won’t see you; she’ll remember your great crime, and she’ll publicize you furiously to all the other girls: god, you’ll be wanted on no doorstep!

15 nullas illa suis contemnet ﬂetibus aras, et quicumque sacer qualis ubique lapis. non ullo grauius temptatur Cynthia damno 25 quam sibi cum rapto cessat amore decus: praecipue nostri. maneat sic semper, adoro, nec quicquam ex illa quod querar inueniam!

16 BOOK ONE POEM 1.4

Every altar will know her tears, and every sacred stone, what and wherever it may be. Cynthia is tried by no curse more gravely than when grace abandons her, when love has been ravaged. Especially our love. I pray she may stay that way always and I never ﬁnd in her any reason to complain!

I.v Inuide, tu tandem uoces compesce molestas et sine nos cursu, quo sumus, ire pares! quid tibi uis, insane? meos sentire furores? infelix, properas ultima nosse mala, et miser ignotos uestigia ferre per ignis, 5 et bibere e tota toxica Thessalia. non est illa uagis similis collata puellis: molliter irasci non solet illa tibi. quod si forte tuis non est contraria uotis, at tibi curarum milia quanta dabit! 10 non tibi iam somnos, non illa relinquet ocellos: illa feros animis alligat una uiros. a, mea contemptus quotiens ad limina curres, cum tibi singultu fortia uerba cadent, et tremulus maestis orietur ﬂetibus horror, 15 et timor informem ducet in ore notam, et quaecumque uoles fugient tibi uerba querenti, nec poteris, qui sis aut ubi, nosse miser! tum graue seruitium nostrae cogere puellae discere et exclusum quid sit abire domum; 20 nec iam pallorem totiens mirabere nostrum, aut cur sim toto corpore nullus ego. nec tibi nobilitas poterit succurrere amanti: nescit Amor priscis cedere imaginibus. quod si parua tuae dederis uestigia culpae, 25 quam cito de tanto nomine rumor eris!

18 BOOK ONE POEM 1.5

1.5 You jealous creep! Shut your annoying mouth already and let us go our course as we are, equals! What do you want, idiot? To experience my madness? Poor boy, you’re rushing into a hellhole! You’ll drag swollen feet through hideous ﬁres, and drink all Thessaly’s poisons. This woman cannot be compared to your tramps! To get angry softly is not her style.

But let’s say by chance she’s not contrary to your wishes— then she’ll give you a million problems! She won’t let you sleep, she won’t let you out of her sight. One woman, she shackles the raging spirits of strongmen. Oh, how often you’ll run to my door, contemptible twit, your strong words collapsing in a sob. Tremulous horror will rise up with mournful tears, fear leave an ugly mark on your face. You won’t ﬁnd the words you want for your complaint, and you won’t know who or where you are, you loser!

Then by force you’ll learn how heavy is her bondage, and what it means to leave her house rejected. Then you’ll no longer wonder at my frequent pallor or why my whole body is often null. As a lover, your nobility will be of no use to you: Love doesn’t yield to old ghosts. Because if you have left the smallest clues of your guilt, how quickly you’ll become the whipping boy!

19 non ego tum potero solacia ferre roganti, cum mihi nulla mei sit medicina mali; sed pariter miseri socio cogemur amore alter in alterius mutua ﬂere sinu. 30 quare, quid possit mea Cynthia, desine, Galle, quaerere: non impune illa rogata uenit.

20 BOOK ONE POEM 1.5

Don’t expect to ﬁnd solace then from me when I have no cure for my own ills.

No. Equally miserable, we will be forced by a shared passion to cry on one another’s shoulders. That’s why you should desist, Gallus, from seeking to know what my Cynthia is capable of: once called, she comes with a price.

I.vi Non ego nunc Hadriae uereor mare noscere tecum, Tulle, neque Aegaeo ducere uela salo, cum quo Rhipaeos possim conscendere montis ulteriusque domos uadere Memnonias; sed me complexae remorantur uerba puellae, 5 mutatoque graues saepe colore preces. illa mihi totis argutat noctibus ignis, et queritur nullos esse relicta deos; illa meam mihi iam se denegat, illa minatur, quae solet irato tristis amica uiro. 10 his ego non horam possum durare querelis: a pereat, si quis lentus amare potest! an mihi sit tanti doctas cognoscere Athenas atque Asiae ueteres cernere diuitias, ut mihi deducta faciat conuicia puppi 15 Cynthia et insanis ora notet manibus, osculaque opposito dicat sibi debita uento, et nihil inﬁdo durius esse uiro? tu patrui meritas conare anteire securis, et uetera oblitis iura refer sociis. 20 nam tua non aetas umquam cessauit amori, semper at armatae cura fuit patriae; et tibi non umquam nostros puer iste labores afferat et lacrimis omnia nota meis! me sine, quem semper uoluit fortuna iacere, 25 hanc animam extremae reddere nequitiae.

22 BOOK ONE POEM 1.6

1.6 Really, I’m not afraid of exploring the Adriatic with you, Tullus, or to set sail on the Aegean. We could climb the Rhipaean mountains together! and go even farther, to the land of Memnon, but the words and embraces of my girl make me linger, her earnest prayers and rapidly changing color.

She talks all night of her desire for me, complaining she is abandoned, no gods exist. She is already denying she is mine, making threats like a spurned girlfriend to a angry man.

I can’t endure a single hour of these complaints! To hell with him who can be ﬂippant in the face of love! Is it worth so much to me to know Athens’ sophistications, to see the ancient splendors of Asia, when Cynthia launches such invective toward my readied ship and disﬁgures my face with insane hands, says she owes kisses to the opposing wind and that nothing is worse than an unfaithful man?

You go ahead and try to surpass your uncle’s power; restore ancient rights our allies have let slide. You never had time for love even in your youth; an armed nation was always your concern. May that Boy never visit my trials on you, and everything touched by my tears! Allow me, whom fortune has always made idle, to deliver my spirit to extreme wantonness.

23 multi longinquo periere in amore libenter, in quorum numero me quoque terra tegat. non ego sum laudi, non natus idoneus armis: hanc me militiam Fata subire uolunt. 30 at tu seu mollis qua tendit Ionia, seu qua Lydia Pactoli tingit arata liquor; seu pedibus terras seu pontum carpere remis ibis, et accepti pars eris imperii: tum tibi si qua mei ueniet non immemor hora, 35 uiuere me duro sidere certus eris.

24 BOOK ONE POEM 1.6

Many have freely perished in an overextended love. Let the earth bury me among them. I wasn’t born to praise or ﬁghting: the Fates forced me to my own kind of military. But you, whether in Ionia’s exotic expanse, or where the Pactolus’ stream tints Lydian ﬁelds, whether you hurry over ground by foot or over sea by oar, you will still be part of a happy power. If the hour should come you chance to think of me, you can be certain I’m living under a hard star.

I.vii Dum tibi Cadmeae dicuntur, Pontice, Thebae armaque fraternae tristia militiae, atque, ita sim felix, primo contendis Homero, (sint modo Fata tuis mollia carminibus:) nos, ut consuemus, nostros agitamus amores, 5 atque aliquid duram quaerimus in dominam; nec tantum ingenio quantum seruire dolori cogor et aetatis tempora dura queri. hic mihi conteritur uitae modus, haec mea fama est, hinc cupio nomen carminis ire mei. 10 me laudent doctae solum placuisse puellae, Pontice, et iniustas saepe tulisse minas; me legat assidue post haec neglectus amator, et prosint illi cognita nostra mala. te quoque si certo puer hic concusserit arcu, 15 (quod nolim nostros, heu, voluisse deos), longe castra tibi, longe miser agmina septem ﬂebis in aeterno surda iacere situ; et frustra cupies mollem componere uersum, nec tibi subiciet carmina serus Amor. 20 tum me non humilem mirabere saepe poetam, tunc ego Romanis praeferar ingeniis; nec poterunt iuuenes nostro reticere sepulcro; “Ardoris nostri magne poeta, iaces.” tu caue nostra tuo contemnas carmina fastu: 25 saepe uenit magno faenore tardus Amor.

26 BOOK ONE POEM 1.7

1.7 While you tell of Thebes and Cadmus, Ponticus, and the tragedy of fraternal warfare, and, if I may say, you contend with Homer himself (may the Fates just go easy on your songs), I pursue my loves, as is my wont, and look for something against my hard mistress.

I am a slave not so much to genius as to suffering, complaining the hard times of my youth. This is how my life’s used up, this my fame, this is what I want my poetry known for. Let them praise me, Ponticus, for being the only one to have pleased that sophisticated girl, and for having often borne her unjust threats. May the neglected lover of the future read me carefully, that knowledge of my ills may give him foresight.

If the Boy should also strike you with his deadeye bow, (though I wouldn’t want my gods to have willed that), then miserably you’ll cry that your camps, your seven squadrons, lie far, far away, silent in eternal inactivity. In vain you’ll want to compose a subtle verse, and laggard Love will throw down no songs to you. Then you will not marvel so often at this “insigniﬁcant” poet. Then I may be preferred to the other Roman talents. Youths won’t be able to keep silent at my tomb: “There you lie, great poet of our ardor.” So beware when you trash my poems with contempt: lazy Love often charges a huge interest.

I.viii a Tune igitur demens, nec te mea cura moratur? an tibi sum gelida uilior Illyria? et tibi iam tanti, quicumque est, iste uidetur, ut sine me uento quolibet ire uelis? tune audire potes uesani murmura ponti 5 fortis, et in dura naue iacere potes? tu pedibus teneris positas fulcire pruinas, tu potes insolitas, Cynthia, ferre niues? o utinam hibernae duplicentur tempora brumae, et sit iners tardis nauita Vergiliis, 10 nec tibi Tyrrhena soluatur funis harena, neue inimica meas eleuet aura preces! atque ego non uideam talis subsidere uentos, cum tibi prouectas auferet unda ratis, ut me deﬁxum uacua patiatur in ora 15 crudelem infesta saepe uocare manu! sed quocumque modo de me, periura, mereris, sit Galatea tuae non aliena uiae: utere felici praeuecta Ceraunia remo; accipiat placidis Oricos aequoribus. 20 nam me non ullae poterunt corrumpere, de te quin ego, uita, tuo limine uerba querar; nec me deﬁciet nautas rogitare citatos, “Dicite, quo portu clausa puella mea est?” et dicam, “Licet Atraciis considat in oris, 25 et licet Hylaeis, illa futura mea est.”

28 BOOK ONE POEM 1.8A

1.8 A So you’re crazy, and my heartache does not delay you? Or is it I’m nothing compared to frozen Illyria? And is he, what’s-his-name, already so important to you that you’ll go wherever the wind blows, without me? Are you strong enough to listen to the sea’s savage crash? Can you sleep on a hard bunk? Can your tender feet brave the frosts? Can you, Cynthia, bear the bitter snows?

I wish the time of wintry cold could be doubled, and the sailor sit inert with the Vergilii absent, your rope not be loosed from the Tyrrhenian beach, and an unfriendly breeze not make light of my prayers. But I wouldn’t want to see such winds subside, when the wave hurtles your ship forward, though I must remain ﬁxed on the empty shore, calling you, cruel girl, threatening with my ﬁst!

But whatever you deserve from me for your lying, may Galatea not be contrary to your path. May you be easily rowed past Ceraunia; may Oricos receive you into its placid waters. No woman will be able to corrupt me. Indeed, love, I will make my complaint on your doorstep.

I won’t forget to interrogate the sailors, saying, “Tell me, in which port is my girl enclosed?” and I’ll say, “Whether she camps on the Atrax’ shores or with the Hyllei, she will be mine.”

I.viii b Hic erit! hic iurata manet! rumpantur iniqui! uicimus: assiduas non tulit illa preces. falsa licet cupidus deponat gaudia liuor: destitit ire nouas Cynthia nostra uias. 30 illi carus ego et per me carissima Roma dicitur, et sine me dulcia regna negat. illa uel angusto mecum requiescere lecto et quocumque modo maluit esse mea, quam sibi dotatae regnum uetus Hippodamiae, 35 et quas Elis opes ante pararat equis. quamuis magna daret, quamuis maiora daturus, non tamen illa meos fugit auara sinus. hanc ego non auro, non Indis ﬂectere conchis, sed potui blandi carminis obsequio. 40 sunt igitur Musae, neque amanti tardus Apollo, quis ego fretus amo: Cynthia rara mea est! nunc mihi summa licet contingere sidera plantis: siue dies seu nox uenerit, illa mea est! nec mihi riualis certos subducit amores: 45 ista meam norit gloria canitiem.

30 BOOK ONE POEM 1.8B

1.8 B She’s staying! She swore she’ll remain! My enemies be damned! We won: she did not submit to unrelenting prayers. Desirous envy can drop its false joys: Cynthia’s mine: she’s abandoned going new ways. She loves me, and through me, my beloved Rome. Without me, she’ll see no exotic kingdoms. On the contrary, she prefers relaxing with me on a narrow couch, mine on any terms, to visiting the ancient kingdom of wealthy Hippodamia and the riches Elis once procured with its horses.

Though he gave her much and promised more, still she doesn’t desert my embrace for greed. I was able to sway her not with gold, nor with Indian conches, but with the blandishment of alluring poetry.

So there are Muses, Apollo does not desert the lover. Trusting them, I love. Rare Cynthia is mine! Now I touch the highest stars with the soles of my feet. Whether day or night, she is mine! My rival cannot abduct a love so strongly founded. That glory will know my old age.

I.ix Dicebam tibi uenturos, irrisor, amores, nec tibi perpetuo libera uerba fore: ecce iaces supplexque uenis ad iura puellae, et tibi nunc quaeuis imperat empta modo. non me Chaoniae uincant in amore columbae 5 dicere, quos iuuenes quaeque puella domet. me dolor et lacrimae merito fecere peritum: atque utinam posito dicar amore rudis! quid tibi nunc misero prodest graue dicere carmen aut Amphioniae moenia ﬂere lyrae? 10 plus in amore ualet Mimnermi uersus Homero: carmina mansuetus lenia quaerit Amor. i quaeso et tristis istos compone libellos, et cane quod quaeuis nosse puella uelit! quid si non esset facilis tibi copia? nunc tu 15 insanus medio ﬂumine quaeris aquam. necdum etiam palles, uero nec tangeris igni: haec est uenturi prima fauilla mali. tum magis Armenias cupies accedere tigris et magis infernae uincula nosse rotae, 20 quam pueri totiens arcum sentire medullis et nihil iratae posse negare tuae. nullus Amor cuiquam facilis ita praebuit alas, ut non alterna presserit ille manu. nec te decipiat, quod sit satis illa parata: 25 acrius illa subit, Pontice, si qua tua est,

32 BOOK ONE POEM 1.9

1.9 I told you how love would be, and you laughed. From now on, your words will not come free. Look how you lie, a suppliant, as you submit to her terms. An average girl, once bought, now rules over you. Chaonian doves can’t beat me at love predictions: I know which youths each girl will dominate. Suffering and tears have earned me my expertise. If only I could be called ignorant of Love’s touch!

What good is it now, in your misery, to speak your solemn poem, to mourn the walls of the Amphionian lyre? Mimnermos’ poetry is worth more in love than Homer’s: mild Love seeks soft songs. Please go bury those sad books and sing anything the average girl wants to hear! What if this abundance were not so easily yours? Insane now, in the middle of the river you ask for water.

And you’re not even pale yet. You haven’t really felt the ﬁre. This is but the ﬁrst spark of the suffering to come. Then you’d rather face Armenian tigers and know the bondage of hell’s wheel than to feel so often the Boy’s bow in your marrow and be powerless to deny your angry girl a single thing.

Love doesn’t give his wings so easily that he does not repress with the other hand. Don’t think that winning her was enough. She cuts even sharper, Ponticus, if she is yours,

33 quippe ubi non liceat uacuos seducere ocellos, nec uigilare alio nomine cedat Amor. qui non ante patet, donec manus attigit ossa:

quisquis es, assiduas a fuge blanditias! 30 illis et silices et possint cedere quercus, nedum tu possis, spiritus iste leuis. quare, si pudor est, quam primum errata fatere: dicere quo pereas saepe in amore leuat.

34 BOOK ONE POEM 1.9 since your eyes are not allowed to wander freely, nor does Love let you spend the night with someone else. He remains invisible until his hand strikes you to the bone.

Whoever you are, ﬂy from the constant ﬂirtations! Flint and oak would yield to them, not to mention you, who are just light spirit. So, for the love of god, admit your error as soon as possible: to say where you lost in love often eases it.

I.x O iucunda quies, primo cum testis amori affueram uestris conscius in lacrimis! o noctem meminisse mihi iucunda uoluptas, o quotiens uotis illa uocanda meis, cum te complexa morientem, Galle, puella 5 uidimus et longa ducere uerba mora! quamuis labentis premeret mihi somnus ocellos et mediis caelo Luna ruberet equis, non tamen a uestro potui secedere lusu: tantus in alternis uocibus ardor erat. 10 sed quoniam non es ueritus concedere nobis, accipe commissae munera laetitiae: non solum uestros didici reticere dolores, est quiddam in nobis maius, amice, ﬁde. possum ego diuersos iterum coniungere amantis, 15 et dominae tardas possum aperire fores; et possum alterius curas sanare recentis, nec leuis in uerbis est medicina meis. Cynthia me docuit semper quaecumque petenda quaeque cauenda forent: non nihil egit amor. 20 tu caue ne tristi cupias pugnare puellae, neue superba loqui, neue tacere diu; neu, si quid petiit, ingrata fronte negaris, neu tibi pro uano uerba benigna cadant. irritata uenit, quando contemnitur illa, 25 nec meminit iustas ponere laesa minas:

36 BOOK ONE POEM 1.10

1.10 What a great calm, when I was present at your ﬁrst love, a witness and partner in your tears. It’s such a pleasure to recall that night, (I do it all the time with my prayers), when I saw you, Gallus, swooning, wrapped in her arms, drawing out each word in a long moan!

Although sleep was pressing my closing eyes and the Moon with her horses reddened midway across the sky, still I couldn’t pull away from your sport: so great was the ardor in your alternating voices! But since you are not afraid to submit to me, accept the rewards of our shared pleasure: not only have I learned to keep quiet your pains, there is an even greater promise, friend, in me.

I can rejoin separated lovers, I know how to open a mistress’ slow doors. I can cure any recent pain, not light is the medicine in my words. Cynthia always taught me which things to pursue and which to avoid: love has a certain effect.

Beware of ﬁghting and making her unhappy, don’t boast too much nor be too long silent. If she has asked for something, don’t make a face. Never let generous words fall to you unanswered. She gets irritated when disrespected, makes unjust threats in her rage.

37 at quo sis humilis magis et subiectus amori, hoc magis effectu saepe fruare bono. is poterit felix una remanere puella, qui numquam uacuo pectore liber erit. 30

38 BOOK ONE POEM 1.10

The more you are humble, love’s subject, the more you will reap a good harvest. He will remain happy with one girl who will be never free, never thoughtless.

I.xi Ecquid te mediis cessantem, Cynthia, Bais, qua iacet Herculeis semita litoribus, et modo Thesproti mirantem subdita regno proxima Misenis aequora nobilibus, nostri cura subit memores adducere noctes? 5 ecquis in extremo restat amore locus? an te nescio quis simulatis ignibus hostis sustulit e nostris, Cynthia, carminibus? atque utinam mage te remis conﬁsa minutis paruula Lucrina cumba moretur aqua, 10 aut teneat clausam tenui Teuthrantis in unda alternae facilis cedere lympha manu, quam uacet alterius blandos audire susurros molliter in tacito litore compositam! ut solet amoto labi custode puella, 15 perﬁda communis nec meminisse deos: non quia perspecta non es mihi cognita fama, sed quod in hac omnis parte timetur amor. ignosces igitur, si quid tibi triste libelli attulerint nostri: culpa timoris erit. 20 an mihi nunc maior carae custodia matris? aut sine te uitae cura sit ulla meae? tu mihi sola domus, tu, Cynthia, sola parentes, omnia tu nostrae tempora laetitiae. seu tristis ueniam seu contra laetus amicis, 25 quicquid ero, dicam, “Cynthia causa fuit.”

40 BOOK ONE POEM 1.11

1.11 While you linger in the middle of Baiae, Cynthia, where the path lies on Herculean shores, and marvel at seas recently brought under Thesprotus’ sway, near the nobility of Misenum, does my memory ever bring a night of thought? Is there any place left for a love on its way out? Has some enemy, I know not who, stolen you with simulated passion, out of my songs?

I hope you linger in a trusty small skiff with little oars on Lake Lucrinus, or the sweet water holds you in Teuthras’ light waves, swimming arm over arm, but don’t stoop to listening to some guy’s ﬂirtatious whispers, as you recline sweetly on a quiet shore! This is what girls slip into when their custodian’s away, they betray their ﬁdelity and our common gods!

It’s not that I’ve spied on you, or rumors have reached me, but in the Bay of Naples no love is safe. So don’t pay attention if my books have brought you any sadness: fear is to blame.

Is the care of my dear mother important to me now? Is there any reason at all to my life without you? You alone are my home, you, Cynthia, alone, my parents, you are all the times of my happiness. Whether I come sad or happy among friends, whatever I will be, I will say, “Cynthia was the reason.”

41 tu modo quam primum corruptas desere Baias: multis ista dabunt litora discidium, litora quae fuerant castis inimica puellis: a pereant Baiae, crimen amoris, aquae! 30

42 BOOK ONE POEM 1.11

Just leave corrupt Baiae as soon as possible. Those shores will bring separation to many, shores unfriendly to faithful girls. Go to hell, waters of Baiae, you crime against love!

I.xii Quid mihi desidiae non cessas fingere crimen, quod faciat nobis conscia Roma moram? tam multa illa meo diuisa est milia lecto, quantum Hypanis Veneto dissidet Eridano; nec mihi consuetos amplexu nutrit amores 5 Cynthia, nec nostra dulcis in aure sonat. olim gratus eram: non illo tempore cuiquam contigit ut simili posset amare fide. inuidiae fuimus: non me deus obruit? an quae lecta Prometheis diuidit herba iugis? 10 non sum ego qui fueram: mutat uia longa puellas. quantus in exiguo tempore fugit amor! nunc primum longas solus cognoscere noctes cogor et ipse meis auribus esse grauis. felix, qui potuit praesenti flere puellae; 15 non nihil aspersis gaudet Amor lacrimis: aut si despectus potuit mutare calores, sunt quoque translato gaudia seruitio. mi neque amare aliam neque ab hac desistere fas est: Cynthia prima fuit, Cynthia finis erit. 20

44 BOOK ONE POEM 1.12

1.12 Why don’t you stop fabricating the crime of apathy for me, on the grounds that Rome, which knows my story, holds me here? She is separated as many miles from my bed as is the Hypanis from the Venetian Eridanus. Cynthia doesn’t nurture my usual affections with her embrace, nor sounds sweet in my ear. Once I pleased her: no one then could claim to love with such intensity.

We were victims of envy: didn’t some god eclipse me? Well, what herbs from Promethean heights divided my bed? I am no longer what I was: a long road changes girls. In a scrap of time, love has ﬂown so far! Now, for the ﬁrst time, I am forced to know long nights alone and hate the sound of my own voice.

He’s happy who cried for a girl who was actually there. Love delights in being sprinkled with tears: or if the despised lover can change his passion’s object, there are pleasures too in transferring one’s servitude. For me it’s not fated to love anyone else or to stop loving her: Cynthia was the ﬁrst, Cynthia will be the last.

I.xiii Tu, quod saepe soles, nostro laetabere casu, Galle, quod abrepto solus amore uacem. at non ipse tuas imitabor, perfide, uoces: fallere te numquam, Galle, puella uelit. dum tibi deceptis augetur fama puellis, 5 certus et in nullo quaeris amore moram, perditus in quadam tardis pallescere curis incipis, et primo lapsus abire gradu. haec erit illarum contempti poena doloris: multarum miseras exiget una uices. 10 haec tibi uulgaris istos compescet amores, nec noua quaerendo semper amicus eris. haec ego non rumore malo, non augure doctus; uidi ego: me quaeso teste negare potes? uidi ego te toto uinctum languescere collo 15 et flere iniectis, Galle, diu manibus, et cupere optatis animam deponere uerbis, et quae deinde meus celat, amice, pudor. non ego complexus potui diducere uestros: tantus erat demens inter utrosque furor. 20 non sic Haemonio Salmonida mixtus Enipeo Taenarius facili pressit amore deus, nec sic caelestem flagrans amor Herculis Heben sensit in Oetaeis gaudia prima iugis.

46 BOOK ONE POEM 1.13

1.13 Since you often do, Gallus, delight in my fall. My love ripped away, I’m vacant, alone. Me, I won’t imitate your jealous voice: may no girl ever plot to betray you, Gallus. While your fame from girls deceived increases, and you never stay with an affair, now, trapped in one, you begin to grow pale, wracked by worry. For the ﬁrst time, you slip and lose your footing.

She will be punishment for the despised pain of all of them: one woman avenges the lamentable fate of many. She’ll clamp down on those ﬂings you like so much, you’ll cease being fun to the fun-loving. I know these things not by some cheap rumor or a fortune-teller. I saw. Please, can you deny it with me as a witness?

I saw you bound in a tight embrace, languidly necking, whining incessantly, Gallus, your hands on her, willing to lay down your life for those desired words. What followed, my friend, shame prevents me from saying. I wasn’t able to decipher your embraces: such was the passion raging between you.

Such easy love was not pressed by the Taenarian god on Salmoneus’ daughter, as they mingled in the Thessalian Enipeus. Hercules’ love, burning celestial Hebe, didn’t sense such primal delight on the ranges of Oeta.

una dies omnis potuit praecurrere amantis: 25 nam tibi non tepidas subdidit illa faces, nec tibi praeteritos passa est succedere fastus, nec sinet abduci: te tuus ardor aget. nec mirum, cum sit Ioue digna et proxima Ledae et Ledae partu gratior, una tribus; 30 illa sit Inachiis et blandior heroinis, illa suis uerbis cogat amare Iouem. tu uero quoniam semel es periturus amore, utere: non alio limine dignus eras. quae tibi sit felix, quoniam nouus incidit error; 35 et, quodcumque uoles, una sit ista tibi.

48 BOOK ONE POEM 1.13

One day was able to make up for all the lovers: she submitted you to no tepid passions, and she does not allow past arrogance to be forgotten. She doesn’t let it go: your lust drives you.

No wonder, when Jove’d do her—she looks just like Leda, she’s even prettier than Leda’s child, one of the three. She’s sexier than Inachian heroines. With her words, she forces even Jove to love her. Really, once you perished in love, you were used. You weren’t wanted on any other doorway. Which may be alright with you, since I see a new ﬁt of weakness coming. May she be the one for you, whatever it is you want.

I.xiv Tu licet abiectus Tiberina molliter unda Lesbia Mentoreo uina bibas opere, et modo tam celeres mireris currere lintres et modo tam tardas funibus ire ratis; et nemus omne satas intendat uertice siluas, 5 urgetur quantis Caucasus arboribus; non tamen ista meo ualeant contendere amori: nescit Amor magnis cedere diuitiis. nam siue optatam mecum trahit illa quietem, seu facili totum ducit amore diem, 10 tum mihi Pactoli ueniunt sub tecta liquores, et legitur Rubris gemma sub aequoribus; tum mihi cessuros spondent mea gaudia reges: quae maneant, dum me Fata perire uolent! nam quis diuitiis aduerso gaudet amore? 15 nulla mihi tristi praemia sint Venere! illa potest magnas heroum infringere uires, illa etiam duris mentibus esse dolor: illa neque Arabium metuit transcendere limen nec timet ostrino, Tulle, subire toro, 20 et miserum toto iuuenem uersare cubili: quid releuant uariis serica textilibus? quae mihi dum placata aderit, non ulla uerebor regna uel Alcinoi munera despicere.

50 BOOK ONE POEM 1.14

1.14 You are free to mope about effeminately near Tiber’s wave, drinking Lesbian wine from a Mentorean cup. Now you marvel at the speed of the skiffs, now at how slowly the rafts with their cables go; a grove sends up planted woods from every peak, as many trees as crowd the Caucasus. But none of these can compare to my affair: great wealth has no effect on Love.

When she prolongs our hotly desired rendezvous or drives our whole day in lingering sex, then the Pactolus’ waters ﬂow under my roof, and a pearl is plucked from the Ruber! Then my joys promise kings will yield to me! May they remain till the Fates command my death! Who enjoys wealth when their love is down? Prizes ain’t worth shit with Venus angry!

She can break the great powers of heroes, she can confuse the greatest intellects. She wasn’t afraid to cross the Arabian threshold, and she’s not afraid, Tullus, to mount the purple couch, riding some poor kid over every inch of that bed. What relief can silk with its varied weaves bring? As long as she’s happy with me, I’ll fear no powers, and I’ll despise Alcinous’ gifts.

I.xv Saepe ego multa tuae leuitatis dura timebam, hac tamen excepta, Cynthia, perfidia. aspice me quanto rapiat fortuna periclo! tu tamen in nostro lenta timore uenis; et potes hesternos manibus componere crinis 5 et longa faciem quaerere desidia, nec minus Eois pectus uariare lapillis, ut formosa nouo quae parat ire uiro. at non sic Ithaci digressu mota Calypso desertis olim fleuerat aequoribus: 10 multos illa dies incomptis maesta capillis sederat, iniusto multa locuta salo, et quamuis numquam post haec uisura, dolebat illa tamen, longae conscia laetitiae. 14 nec sic Aesoniden rapientibus anxia uentis 17 Hypsipyle uacuo constitit in thalamo: Hypsipyle nullos post illos sensit amores, ut semel Haemonio tabuit hospitio. 20 coniugis Euadne miseros elata per ignis occidit, Argiuae fama pudicitiae. Alphesiboea suos ulta est pro coniuge fratres, 15 sanguinis et cari uincula rupit amor. 16 quarum nulla tuos potuit conuertere mores, 23 tu quoque uti fieres nobilis historia. desine iam reuocare tuis periuria uerbis, 25 Cynthia, et oblitos parce mouere deos;

52 BOOK ONE POEM 1.15

1.15 I knew your contempt would get to be a drag, Cynthia, but I never expected you to be unfaithful. Look at me, how fate seizes me with so much pain! Yet you come lazily to me in my terror. You ﬁx yesterday’s set with your hands, examine your face in slow deliberation. You decorate your breasts with oriental jewels, as any beautiful woman does, preparing to go to a new man.

But this wasn’t how Calypso acted. Moved by the departure for Ithaca, she wept to the deserted seas. For many days she sat, a wreck, her hair a mess, speaking constantly to the “unjust sea.” And though she was never to see him again, still she mourned, remembering their long happiness. And Hypsipyle stood in her empty bedroom, destroyed, when the winds snatched the Aesonid away: Hypsipyle had no lovers after him, as she wasted away over her Haemonian guest. Evadne ended up on her poor husband’s ﬂames and died, that legend of Argive morals. Alphesiboea killed her brothers for her husband; her love broke the bonds of blood and respect.

But none of these examples changed your ways, and you too might have had a ﬁne history. Resist recalling the falseness of your promises, Cynthia, invoking those forgotten gods.

53 audax a nimium, nostro dolitura periclo, si quid forte tibi durius inciderit! multa prius uasto labentur flumina ponto, annus et inuersas duxerit ante uices, 30 quam tua sub nostro mutetur pectore cura: sis quodcumque uoles, non aliena tamen. tam tibi ne uiles isti uideantur ocelli, per quos saepe mihi credita perfidia est! hos tu iurabas, si quid mentita fuisses, 35 ut tibi suppositis exciderent manibus; et contra magnum potes hos attollere Solem, nec tremis admissae conscia nequitiae? quis te cogebat multos pallere colores et fletum inuitis ducere luminibus? 40 quis ego nunc pereo, similis moniturus amantis O nullis tutum credere blanditiis!

54 BOOK ONE POEM 1.15

The nerve! You’ll hurt from my pain if something serious should happen to you! Rivers will ﬂow back from the vast ocean, and the year lead its seasons in reverse, before my love for you will change in my heart’s domain: be whatever you want, just not alien.

Don’t cheapen those lovely eyes which have often hid your inﬁdelity! You once swore, if you ever told a lie, they would fall out into your own hands. Can you still raise them to the great Sun untrembling, aware of the evil you’ve admitted to? Who made you change so many colors and cry with unwilling eyes? Let my death be a warning to other lovers: Don’t believe a word she says!

I.xvi “Quae fueram magnis olim patefacta triumphis, ianua Tarpeiae nota pudicitae; cuius inaurati celebrarunt limina currus, captorum lacrimis umida supplicibus; nunc ego, nocturnis potorum saucia rixis, 5 pulsata indignis saepe queror manibus, et mihi non desunt turpes pendere corollae semper et exclusis signa iacere faces. nec possum infamis dominae defendere noctes, nobilis obscenis tradita carminibus; 10 nec tamen illa suae reuocatur parcere famae, turpior et saecli uiuere luxuria. has inter grauibus cogor deﬂere querelis, supplicis a longis tristior excubiis. ille meos numquam patitur requiescere postis, 15 arguta referens carmina blanditia:

‘Ianua uel domina penitus crudelior ipsa, quid mihi tam duris clausa taces foribus? cur numquam reserata meos admittis amores, nescia furtiuas reddere mota preces? 20 nullane ﬁnis erit nostro concessa dolori, turpis et in tepido limine somnus erit? me mediae noctes, me sidera plena iacentem, frigidaque Eoo me dolet aura gelu: tu sola humanos numquam miserata dolores 25 respondes tacitis mutua cardinibus.

56 BOOK ONE POEM 1.16

1.16 “Once I was opened to great triumphs, doorway famous for Tarpeian modesty. Gold-wrought chariots celebrated my threshold, wet with the supplicant tears of captives. Now I am disturbed by the nightly brawls of party-goers, battered so often by unworthy ﬁsts I complain, ugly garlands hung all over me and the familiar torches, warnings to the excluded.

I can’t prevent my mistress’ infamous nights; though noble, I’m betrayed by obscene poetry. Still, she is not swayed to abstain from her fame, and lives more shamefully than her era’s usual excess. During these nights, I am forced to mourn in heavy complaint, due to the long vigils of the tragic suppliant. He never gives my posts a rest, perenially reciting his poetry of grating ﬂattery:

‘Doorway, even crueller than my mistress within, why are you so silent, your hard gates closed to me? Why don’t you ever open up and admit my passion? Don’t you know how to respond, if moved by furtive pleas? Will you never give in and put an end to my grief, will I have to sleep like a dog on your warm step? Midnight presses me, I lie in full view of the stars, a frigid breeze whips me with morning ice. You alone take no pity on my human sufferings, no response from your silent hinges.

57 o utinam traiecta caua mea uocula rima percussas dominae uertat in auriculas! sit licet et saxo patientior illa Sicano, sit licet et ferro durior et chalybe, 30 non tamen illa suos poterit compescere ocellos, surget et inuitis spiritus in lacrimis. nunc iacet alterius felici nixa lacerto, at mea nocturno uerba cadunt Zephyro. sed tu sola mei tu maxima causa doloris, 35 uicta meis numquam, ianua, muneribus. te non ulla meae laesit petulantia linguae, quae solet ingrato dicere tota loco, ut me tam longa raucum patiare querela sollicitas triuio peruigilare moras. 40 at tibi saepe nouo deduxi carmina uersu, osculaque impressis nixa dedi gradibus. ante tuos quotiens uerti me, perﬁda, postis, debitaque occultis uota tuli manibus!’ haec ille et si quae miseri nouistis amantes, 45 et matutinis obstrepit alitibus. sic ego nunc dominae uitiis et semper amantis ﬂetibus aeterna deferor inuidia.”

58 BOOK ONE POEM 1.16

If only my words, piercing some crack, could travel to strike my mistress’ ears! She may be stubborner than Sicilian rock, she may be harder than iron and steel, but she won’t be able to control her eyes, and emotion will well up in uninvited tears.

Now she lies in someone’s happy arms, my words fall with the nocturnal Zephyr. But you alone are the main cause of my sorrow, doorway, never conquered by my gifts! My tongue’s petulance has never struck you (and I always speak my mind when wronged); that you allow me to complain till I’m hoarse and spend the whole night in agitation on the street. I’ve often written poetry to you in new verse and pressed earnest kisses to your steps. How often, traitor, have I turned over before your posts, and I’ve brought the appropriate offerings with hidden hands!’

So he speaks (as do all you poor lovers), and he drowns out the morning birds. By my mistress’ vices and her lover’s constant tears, I am now indicted in unending envy.”

I.xvii Et merito, quoniam potui fugisse puellam, nunc ego desertas alloquor alcyonas. nec mihi Cassiope saluo uisura carinam, omniaque ingrato litore uota cadunt. quin etiam absenti prosunt tibi, Cynthia, uenti: 5 aspice, quam saeuas increpat aura minas. nullane placatae ueniet fortuna procellae? haecine parua meum funus harena teget? tu tamen in melius saeuas conuerte querelas: sat tibi sit poenae nox et iniqua uada. 10 an poteris siccis mea fata reponere ocellis, ossaque nulla tuo nostra tenere sinu? a pereat, quicumque ratis et uela parauit primus et inuito gurgite fecit iter! nonne fuit leuius dominae peruincere mores 15 (quamuis dura, tamen rara puella fuit), quam sic ignotis circumdata litora siluis cernere et optatos quaerere Tyndaridas? illic si qua meum sepelissent fata dolorem, ultimus et posito staret amore lapis, 20 illa meo caros donasset funere crinis, molliter et tenera poneret ossa rosa; illa meum extremo clamasset puluere nomen, ut mihi non ullo pondere terra foret.

60 BOOK ONE POEM 1.17

1.17 Serves me right (I could leave her behind) I now address lonely seabirds. Cassiope won’t appear to guide my ship, and all my prayers fall on a deaf shore. Even the absent winds favor you, Cynthia: look how the breeze stirs up savage threats. Is there no chance of the squall’s calming? Will this tiny beach cover my corpse?

But you, reform your rude complaining: night and unjust depths punish me enough. Could you recall my death with dry eyes, without my bones to hold to your breast? God damn him! who ﬁrst prepared ship and sail and made a journey on the uninviting deep! Wasn’t it easier to best his mistress’ moods (though hard, she was still a rare girl), than to look like this at shores crowded by unknown woods, and to hope for the Tyndarids’ help?

There, if some accident had buried my grief, and my ﬁnal stone was lovingly set, she’d have placed a lock of her hair on my corpse and sweetly laid my bones with a tender rose. She’d have wailed my name as the last dirt was ﬂung, and the earth would weigh nothing then to me.

at uos, aequoreae formosa Doride natae, 25 candida felici soluite uela choro: si quando uestras labens Amor attigit undas, mansuetis socio parcite litoribus.

62 BOOK ONE POEM 1.17

Seaborn daughters of lovely Doris, loosen shining sails with a gay chorus: If ever gliding Love has chanced to touch your waves, leave this ally on familiar shores.

I.xviii Haec certe deserta loca et taciturna querenti, et uacuum Zephyri possidet aura nemus. hic licet occultos proferre impune dolores, si modo sola queant saxa tenere fidem. unde tuos primum repetam, mea Cynthia, fastus? 5 quod mihi das flendi, Cynthia, principium? qui modo felices inter numerabar amantis, nunc in amore tuo cogor habere notam. quid tantum merui? quae te mihi carmina mutant? an noua tristitiae causa puella tuae? 10 sic mihi te referas, leuis, ut non altera nostro limine formosos intulit ulla pedes. quamuis multa tibi dolor hic meus aspera debet, non ita saeua tamen uenerit ira mea, ut tibi sim merito semper furor, et tua flendo 15 lumina deiectis turpia sint lacrimis. an quia parua damus mutato signa colore, et non ulla meo clamat in ore fides? uos eritis testes, si quos habet arbor amores, fagus et Arcadio pinus amica deo. 20 a quotiens teneras resonant mea uerba sub umbras, scribitur et uestris Cynthia corticibus! an tua quod peperit nobis iniuria curas, quae solum tacitis cognita sunt foribus? omnia consueui timidus perferre superbae 25 iussa neque arguto facta dolore queri.

64 BOOK ONE POEM 1.18

1.18 This is certainly the place, for one in pain—deserted, silent— and Zephyr’s air sits on the vacant grove. Here one can release hidden grief freely, if only the rocks can keep a secret. Where can I ﬁrst locate your contempt, my Cynthia? What beginning of crying, Cynthia, do you give me? Once I was numbered among the happy lovers, now I am disgraced in your love.

What did I do? Which poem of mine changed you? You think I’ve got a new girlfriend? If so, come back, dove, as not one other girl has placed her lovely feet upon my threshold. My grief owes much of its bitterness to you, but my rage won’t come so rashly that I become a constant and understandable source of anger to you, your eyes deformed with crying of so many tears.

Is it because my color shows no change, and devotion doesn’t scream in my expression? You’ll be witnesses, since a tree has loves, beech and pine dear to the Arcadian god, how often my words resound under your delicate shade and is written in your bark the name, Cynthia!

Because your cruelty made me a nervous wreck? These things are better kept behind locked doors. Timid, I preferred to endure my proud one’s every command and not complain in shrill distress.

65 pro quo diuini fontes et frigida rupes et datur inculto tramite dura quies; et quodcumque meae possunt narrare querelae, cogor ad argutas dicere solus auis. 30 sed qualiscumque es resonent mihi “Cynthia” siluae, nec deserta tuo nomine saxa uacent.

66 BOOK ONE POEM 1.18

In exchange, I get sacred springs, cold rock, and annoying quiet on this overgrown path. Whatever my complaints can narrate I am constrained, alone, to tell the shrill birds.

But however you are, let the woods echo my “Cynthia” and let the rocks be full of your name.

I.xix Non ego nunc tristis uereor, mea Cynthia, Manis, nec moror extremo debita fata rogo; sed ne forte tuo careat mihi funus amore, hic timor est ipsis durior exequiis. non adeo leuiter nostris puer haesit ocellis, 5 ut meus oblito puluis amore uacet. illic Phylacides iucundae coniugis heros non potuit caecis immemor esse locis, sed cupidus falsis attingere gaudia palmis Thessalus antiquam uenerat umbra domum. 10 illic quidquid ero, semper tua dicar imago: traicit et fati litora magnus amor. illic formosae ueniant chorus heroinae, quas dedit Argiuis Dardana praeda uiris— quarum nulla tua fuerit mihi, Cynthia, forma 15 gratior; et (Tellus hoc ita iusta sinat) quamuis te longae remorentur fata senectae,

cara tamen lacrimis ossa futura meis. quae tu uiua mea possis sentire fauilla! tum mihi non ullo mors sit amara loco. 20 quam uereor, ne te contempto, Cynthia, busto abstrahat a nostro puluere iniquus Amor, cogat et inuitam lacrimas siccare cadentis! ﬂectitur assiduis certa puella minis. quare, dum licet, inter nos laetemur amantes: 25 non satis est ullo tempore longus amor.

68 BOOK ONE POEM 1.19

1.19 Now I no longer fear mournful ghosts, my Cynthia, my accounts are all tallied to face my funeral at last. But the fear that you might be missing from my burial, this is worse than death itself. The Boy is not stuck so lightly to my eyes that my ashes can be lone, love all forgot.

There, in those blind spaces, the Phylacid hero couldn’t forget his beautiful wife: eager, the Thessalian came to his old home a ghost, trying to touch his pleasure with invisible palms. There, whatever I’ll be, I’ll always be called your image: a great love breaks through the shores of death. There, let the chorus of beautiful heroines come, whom the Dardan conquest gave to Argive men. None was as beautiful to me as you, Cynthia, even (may just Tellus grant this wish) should a long old age delay your fate.

Your bones will be washed in my tears. If only you could feel my glowing ash! Then I’d be happy to die anywhere. I’m so afraid unfair Love will drag you from my grave, Cynthia, with contempt for my burial and force you unwillingly to dry your falling tears! Even the most faithful girl is bent by constant innuendo.

Let’s enjoy being lovers while we can: Love is never long enough.

I.xx Hoc pro continuo te, Galle, monemus amore, (id tibi ne uacuo defluat ex animo) saepe imprudenti fortuna occurrit amanti: crudelis Minyis dixerit Ascanius. est tibi non infra speciem, non nomine dispar, 5 Theiodamanteo proximus ardor Hylae: huic tu, siue leges umbrosae flumina siluae, siue Aniena tuos tinxerit unda pedes, siue Gigantea spatiabere litoris ora, siue ubicumque uago fluminis hospitio, 10 Nympharum semper cupidas defende rapinas (non minor Ausoniis est amor Adryasin); ne tibi sint duri montes et frigida saxa, Galle, neque expertos semper adire lacus: quae miser ignotis error perpessus in oris 15 Herculis indomito fleuerat Ascanio. namque ferunt olim Pagasae naualibus Argon egressam longe Phasidos isse uiam, et iam praeteritis labentem Athamantidos undis Mysorum scopulis applicuisse ratem. 20 hic manus heroum, placidis ut constitit oris, mollia composita litora fronde tegit. at comes inuicti iuuenis processerat ultra raram sepositi quaerere fontis aquam. hunc duo sectati fratres, Aquilonia proles, 25 hunc super et Zetes, hunc super et Calais,

70 BOOK ONE POEM 1.20

1.20 I make you this warning, Gallus, in favor of continuous love (so that you don’t lose your mind and forget): Disaster often comes to the unsuspecting lover. The cruel Ascanius made that plain to the Minyae. Your passion approximates Theiodamantean Hylas, in appearance as much as in name.

So, whether you choose streams in shady woods, or the Anio’s wave wets your feet, whether you stroll on the Gigantean coast’s shore, on the wandering welcome of the stream, wherever, always be on the lookout for ravenous Nymphs’ attacks on him (love isn’t weaker for Italian Hadryades). Otherwise, Gallus, you’ll be constantly trekking to hard mounts and frigid rock, to undiscovered lakes: that’s just what poor Hercules suffered, when he wandered on foreign shores and wept by the untameable Ascanius.

They say that once the Argo set off from the port at Pagasa to make the long journey to the Phasis; already the gliding raft has crossed the Athamantid’s waves and has come ashore on Mysian rocks. Here, a band of heroes, standing on the calm coast, covers the beach, piling up soft foliage.

But the unconquered youth’s companion has gone beyond, to seek fresh water from a hidden spring. Two brothers follow him, Aquilonian seed, Zetes is above him and above him Calais,

71 oscula suspensis instabant carpere palmis, oscula et alterna ferre supina fuga. ille sub extrema pendens secluditur ala et uolucres ramo summouet insidias. 30 iam Pandioniae cessit genus Orithyiae: a dolor! ibat Hylas, ibat Hamadryasin, hic erat Arganthi Pege sub uertice montis grata domus Nymphis umida Thyniasin, quam supra nullae pendebant debita curae 35 roscida desertis poma sub aboribus, et circum irriguo surgebant lilia prato candida purpureis mixta papaueribus. quae modo decerpens tenero pueriliter ungui proposito florem praetulit officio, 40 et modo formosis incumbens nescius undis errorem blandis tardat imaginibus. tandem haurire parat demissis flumina palmis innixus dextro plena trahens umero. cuius ut accensae Dryades candore puellae 45 miratae solitos destituere choros, prolapsum leuiter facili traxere liquore: tum sonitum rapto corpore fecit Hylas. cui procul Alcides iterat responsa, sed illi nomen ab extremis fontibus aura refert. 50 his, o Galle, tuos monitus seruabis amores, formosum Nymphis credere uisus Hylan.

72 BOOK ONE POEM 1.20 standing with hands poised to snatch kisses, to smother him with kisses in alternating strikes. Leaning forward, he hides behind his shoulder and shoos away the winged pranksters with a stick. Already the offspring of Pandionian Orithyia have ﬂed. What suffering! Hylas was on his way, on his way to the Hamadryads.

Here was Pege, the wet abode favored by the Thynian Nymphs, beneath the peak of Mount Arganthus. Dewy fruit hung from wild trees, product of no human labor, and shining lilies ﬂourished all over in the damp grass, mixed with purple poppies.

Like a child, he’d pluck them with his delicate nail, preferring the ﬂower to his assigned duty. And now, lying mindless near the beautiful water, he prolongs his dallying with the lovely reﬂections.

At last, he prepares to draw water with cupped palms, propped on his right arm, drinking his ﬁll. The Dryad nymphs are excited by his whiteness, they break off their usual chorus and stare. Lightly, they draw him, slipping, into the gentle water. Then, his body caught, Hylas makes a sound. Far off, Alcides sends a response, but the breeze returns his name from the depths of the pool.

You’ve been warned, Gallus: protect your love. You appear to have trusted your beautiful Hylas to the Nymphs.

I.xxi “Tu, qui consortem properas euadere casum, miles ab Etruscis saucius aggeribus, quid nostro gemitu turgentia lumina torques? pars ego sum uestrae proxima militiae. sic te seruato possint gaudere parentes: 5 me soror Acca tuis sentiat e lacrimis, Gallum, per medios ereptum Caesaris ensis effugere ignotas non potuisse manus; et quaecumque super dispersa inuenerit ossa montibus Etruscis, haec sciat esse mea.” 10

74 BOOK ONE POEM 1.21

1.21 “You scramble to avoid my fate, soldier, wounded at the Etruscan rampart. Why do you roll swollen eyes when I groan? I’m from the next unit. I hope you make it—may your parents celebrate: let my sister Acca know of me from your tears, that Gallus, snatched from the midst of Caesar’s swords, tried to escape unknown hands—but was not able. No matter how many bones she may see scattered on the Etruscan mountains, let her know these are mine.”

I.xxii Qualis et unde genus, qui sint mihi, Tulle, Penates, quaeris pro nostra semper amicitia. si Perusina tibi patriae sunt nota sepulcra, Italiae duris funera temporibus, cum Romana suos egit discordia ciuis— 5 sed mihi praecipue, puluis Etrusca, dolor: tu proiecta mei perpessa es membra propinqui, tu nullo miseri contegis ossa solo— proxima supposito contingens Vmbria campo me genuit terris fertilis uberibus. 10

76 BOOK ONE POEM 1.22

1.22 What class I am and from where, Tullus, who my Penates, you ask all this in the name of our long friendship. If the Perusine tombs of our country are known to you, funerals in Italy’s hard times, when Roman discord hunted her citizens— this was especially painful for me, my Etruscan soil: you allowed my relative’s limbs to go abandoned, you cover the poor man’s bones with no earth— neighboring Umbria, below Perusia on the plain bore me, fertile Umbria, productive land.

BOOK TWO

. . . where Clitumnus with its grove shrouds a beautiful stream and cleanses the snow-white ﬂock with its wave . . .

II.i. Quaeritis, unde mihi totiens scribantur amores, unde meus ueniat mollis in ora liber. non haec Calliope, non haec mihi cantat Apollo. ingenium nobis ipsa puella facit. siue illam Cois fulgentem incedere uidi, 5 hoc totum e Coa ueste uolumen erit; seu uidi ad frontem sparsos errare capillos, gaudet laudatis ire superba comis; siue lyrae carmen digitis percussit eburnis, miramur, facilis ut premat arte manus; 10 seu cum poscentis somnum declinat ocellos, inuenio causas mille poeta nouas; seu nuda erepto mecum luctatur amictu, tum uero longas condimus Iliadas; seu quidquid fecit siue est quodcumque locuta, 15 maxima de nihilo nascitur historia. quod mihi si tantum, Maecenas, Fata dedissent, ut possem heroas ducere in arma manus, non ego Titanus canerem, non Ossan Olympo impositam, ut caeli Pelion esset iter, 20 nec ueteres Thebas, nec Pergama nomen Homeri, Xerxis et imperio bina coisse uada, regnaue prima Remi aut animos Carthaginis altae, Cimbrorumque minas et bene facta Mari:

80 BOOK TWO POEM 2.1

2.1 You ask how I can write so many love poems, how such an effeminate book can come to my lips. Neither Calliope nor Apollo sings this to me. The girl alone erects my genius.

If I’ve seen her walk, radiant in Coan silk, then this entire volume shall be made of silk. If I’ve seen her hair falling loose across her face, she goes contented, arrogant in my praise. If she has struck a song on the lyre with ivory ﬁngers, I marvel at the art her agile hand commands. When she lowers her demanding eyes to sleep, I ﬁnd a thousand new inducements to poetry.

When, nude, her dress ripped away, she wrestles with me, then truly we compose lengthy Iliads. Whatever she does, whatever she says, the greatest story is born from nothing.

If the Fates had granted, Maecenas, that I bring forth heroic armed bands, I’d sing not Titans, nor Ossa set on Olympus, that Pelion be a path to heaven, nor ancient Thebes, nor Homer’s Pergama, nor two seas converging at Xerxes’ command, nor Remus’ beginnings, nor the pride of lofty Carthage, nor the menacing Cimbri put down by Marius:

bellaque resque tui memorarem Caesaris, et tu 25 Caesare sub magno cura secunda fores. nam quotiens Mutinam aut ciuilia busta Philippos aut canerem Siculae classica bella fugae, euersosque focos antiquae gentis Etruscae, et Ptolemaeei litora capta Phari, 30 aut canerem Aegyptum et Nilum, cum attractus in urbem septem captiuis debilis ibat aquis, aut regum auratis circumdata colla catenis, Actiaque in Sacra currere rostra Via; te mea Musa illis semper contexeret armis, 35 et sumpta et posita pace ﬁdele caput: Theseus infernis, superis testatur Achilles, hic Ixioniden, ille Menoetiaden. sed neque Phlegraeos Iouis Enceladique tumultus intonet angusto pectore Callimachus, 40 nec mea conueniunt duro praecordia uersu Caesaris in Phrygios condere nomen auos. nauita de uentis, de tauris narrat arator, enumerat miles uulnera, pastor ouis; nos contra angusto uersamus proelia lecto: 45 qua pote quisque, in ea conterat arte diem. laus in amore mori: laus altera, si datur uno posse frui: fruar o solus amore meo! si memini, solet illa leuis culpare puellas, et totam ex Helena non probat Iliada. 50 seu mihi sunt tangenda nouercae pocula Phaedrae,

82 BOOK TWO POEM 2.1 wars and acts of your Caesar I’d commemorate, and you, after great Caesar, would be my next topic. Unceasingly I’d sing of Mutina, the civic tombs of Philippi, or naval battles and the ﬂight off Sicily, overturned hearths of an ancient Etruscan clan, the captured shores of Ptolemaic Pharus, or I’d sing Egypt and the Nile drawn crippled into the city by seven captive streams or the necks of kings encircled by golden shackles and prows from Actium parading the Via Sacra.

My Muse would weave you always into this military picture, faithful head in establishing and maintaining peace: Theseus bears witness below, Achilles above; that one to the Ixionid, this to the Menoetiad.

But Callimachus, with narrow chest, does not thunder out the Phlegraean uproars of Jove and Enceladus, nor is my diaphragm ﬁt to set in hard verse the story of Caesar back to his Phrygian forebears.

The sailor tells of winds, of bulls the farmer, the solider recounts wounds, the shepherd sheep. Writhing against one another on a narrow bed’s our battle: as far as each is able, let him, in that art, waste the day. Glory to die for love: another glory is being allowed to take pleasure in one: may I alone take pleasure in my love! If I remember, she likes to make fun of silly girls and dismisses the entire Iliad because of Helen. If I should taste the love potions of the stepmother Phaedra,

pocula priuigno non nocitura suo, seu mihi Circaeo pereundum est gramine, siue Colchis Iolciacis urat aena focis, una meos quoniam praedata est femina sensus, 55 ex hac ducentur funera nostra domo. omnis humanos sanat medicina dolores: solus amor morbi non amat artiﬁcem. tarda Philoctetae sanauit crura Machaon, Phoenicis Chiron lumina Phillyrides, 60 et deus exstinctum Cressis Epidaurius herbis restituit patriis Androgeona focis, Mysus et Haemonia iuuenis qua cuspide uulnus senserat, hac ipsa cuspide sensit opem. hoc si quis uitium poterit mihi demere, solus 65 Tantaleae poterit tradere poma manu; dolia uirgineis idem ille repleuerit urnis, ne tenera assidua colla grauentur aqua; idem Caucasia soluet de rupe Promethei bracchia et a medio pectore pellet auem. 70 quandocumque igitur uitam mea Fata reposcent, et breue in exiguo marmore nomen ero, Maecenas, nostrae spes inuidiosa iuuentae, et uitae et morti gloria iusta meae, si te forte meo ducet uia proxima busto, 75 esseda caelatis siste Britanna iugis, taliaque illacrimans mutae iace uerba fauillae: “Huic misero fatum dura puella fuit.”

84 BOOK TWO POEM 2.1 potions that would not change her stepson, if I should waste away from Circe’s herbs, or the Colchian heat cauldrons in Iolcian hearths, since one woman has ravished my senses, from her house will my corpse be carried.

Medicine cures all human ills: love alone loves not the master of its sickness. Machaon cured Philoctetes of his limp, Phyllyrid Chiron restored Phoenix’ sight, the Epidaurian god brought Androgeos back to his father’s hearth with herbs from Cressa, the Mysian youth had felt the wound of the Haemonian spear, and from this same spear he felt his cure. If someone will be able to remove my vice, he alone will be able to deliver fruit to Tantalus’ hand. He also will reﬁll wine-jars from the virgins’ urns, so that great masses of water do not weigh so on slender necks. Likewise, he releases Prometheus’ arms from the Caucasian rock and drives the vulture from his intestines.

So whenever the Fates ask back my life, and I will be but a small name on a piece of marble, Maecenas, enviable hope of our youth, and just glory of my life and death, if a nearby way should chance to lead you to my grave, stop your British chariot with it carved yokes, and crying, shout these words to the mute ember: “A hard girl was this poor fool’s end.”

II.ii Liber eram et uacuo meditabar uiuere lecto; at me composita pace fefellit Amor. cur haec in terris facies humana moratur? Iuppiter, ignosco pristina furta tua. fulua coma est longaeque manus, et maxima toto 5 corpore, et incedit uel Ioue digna soror, aut cum Dulichias Pallas spatiatur ad aras, Gorgonis anguiferae pectus operta comis; qualis et Ischomache Lapithae genus heroine, Centauris medio grata rapina mero; 10 Mercurio aut qualis fertur Boebeidos undis uirgineum Brimo composuisse latus. cedite iam, diuae, quas pastor uiderat olim Idaeis tunicas ponere uerticibus! hanc utinam faciem nolit mutare senectus, 15 etsi Cumaeae saecula uatis aget!

86 BOOK TWO POEM 2.2

2.2 I was free and planning to live with an empty bed, but after I’d made my peace, Love got the better of me.

How can this face remain mortal, on earth? Jupiter, I’ll let your early dalliances slide. Her hair is blond, her hands slender, her whole body’s perfect. When she walks, she’s a worthy sister for Jove, or when Pallas strolls to the Dulichian altars, covering her breast in the hair of the snake-bearing Gorgon. She’s just like Ischomache, heroine of Lapith stock, who reveled in the pillage when Centaurs were taken mid-glass, or Brimo, the one they say lay her virgin body with Mercury by the waves of Lake Boebeis.

Give up, you divas the shepherd once pondered after you’d taken off your tunics on Ida’s peaks! May old age refuse to change this face, even if she should pass the age of the Cumaean Sibyl!

II.iii “Qui nullam tibi dicebas iam posse nocere, haesisti, cecidit spiritus ille tuus! uix unum potes, infelix, requiescere mensem, et turpis de te iam liber alter erit.” quaerebam, sicca si posset piscis harena 5 nec solitus ponto uiuere toruus aper; aut ego si possem studiis uigilare seueris: differtur, numquam tollitur ullus amor. nec me tam facies, quamuis sit candida, cepit (lilia non domina sunt magis alba mea; 10 ut Maeotica nix minio si certet Hibero, utque rosae puro lacte natent folia), nec de more comae per leuia colla ﬂuentes, non oculi, geminae, sidera nostra, faces, nec si qua Arabio lucet bombyce puella 15 (non sum de nihilo blandus amator ego): quantum quod posito formose saltat Iaccho, egit ut euhantis dux Ariadna choros, et quantum, Aeolio cum temptat carmina plectro, par Aganippaeae ludere docta lyrae; 20 et sua cum antiquae committit scripta Corinnae, carminaque illius non putat aequa suis. non tibi nascenti primis, mea uita, diebus candidus argutum sternuit omen Amor? haec tibi contulerunt caelestia munera diui, 25 haec tibi ne matrem forte dedisse putes.

88 BOOK TWO POEM 2.3

2.3 “You, who used to say no girl could ever get to you, lie ﬂustered, that resolve of yours fallen! Poor fool, scarcely able to rest a month. Already we can expect another dirty book from you.”

I wanted to know if a ﬁsh could survive in dry sand, a savage boar in the fathomless deep— or if I could keep alert with rigid zeal. The truth’s out: never is any love erected.

It’s not so much her face, though lovely, that captured me (white lilies do not surpass my mistress: as if Maeotic snow were to contest with Iberian cinnabar, or rose petals ﬂoating on pure milk), nor the stylish hair cascading down a smooth neck, nor the eyes—the twins, our stars, torches, not even if a girl glows in Arabian silk (it’s not for nothing I’m known as Mr. Smooth): as much as how she dances so beautifully when she’s had a little, like Ariadne leading the chorus that chants “Euan!” and how, when she attempts songs with Aeolian plectrum, she is so skilled she can play on the Aganippaean lyre, and when she compares her writings to venerable Corinna’s, she does not believe that woman’s songs equal her own.

Didn’t shining Love sneeze a clear omen in the ﬁrst days after your birth, my life? The gods conferred these celestial riches on you, unless you happen to think your mother gave you them.

89 non non humani partus sunt talia dona: ista decem menses non peperere bona. gloria Romanis una es tu nata puellis: Romana accumbes prima puella Ioui, 30 nec semper nobiscum humana cubilia uises; post Helenam haec terris forma secunda redit. hac ego nunc mirer si ﬂagret nostra iuuentus? pulchrius hac fuerat, Troia, perire tibi. olim mirabar, quod tanti ad Pergama belli 35 Europae atque Asiae causa puella fuit: nunc, Pari, tu sapiens et tu, Menelae, fuisti, tu quia poscebas, tu quia lentus eras. digna quidem facies, pro qua uel obiret Achilles; uel Priamo belli causa probanda fuit. 40 si quis uult fama tabulas anteire uetustas, hic dominam exemplo ponat in arte meam: siue illam Hesperiis, siue illam ostendet Eois, uret et Eoos, uret et Hesperios. his saltem ut tenear iam ﬁnibus! aut mihi si quis 45 acrius, ut moriar, uenerit alter amor! at ueluti primo taurus detractat aratra, post uenit assueto mollis ad arua iugo, sic primo iuuenes trepidant in amore feroces, dehinc domiti post haec aequa et iniqua ferunt. 50

90 BOOK TWO POEM 2.3

These are not the gifts of a mortal birth: ten months have not spawned those goods. You alone were born the glory of Roman girls. You are the ﬁrst Roman girl to recline at Jove’s table, you don’t always visit human dwellings with us. After Helen, this second beauty returns to earth.

Should I wonder now if our youth burns for her? To perish for her, Troy, would have been better. Once, I used to wonder that a girl was the cause of so much war at Pergama for Europe and Asia. Now, Paris, I know you were wise, and you, Menelaus: one because you were demanding, the other because you refused. That face was indeed worthy, for which Achilles would die, and which Priam determined just cause for war.

In any event, let me be held within these bounds! Or if some other, more violent, passion should come to me, let me perish!

And just as the bull at first rejects the plow, but afterwards, becoming used to the yoke, comes mildly to the fields, so insolent youths are jumpy at first in love, but, once dominated, endure just and unjust treatment.

91 turpia perpessus uates est uincla Melampus, cognitus Iphicli surripuisse boues; quem non lucra, magis Pero formosa coegit, mox Amythaonia nupta futura domo.

92 BOOK TWO POEM 2.3

The seer Melampus suffered humiliating chains, when it was found he had stolen Iphiclus’ cattle. He wasn’t moved by greed but by beautiful Pero, soon to be a wife in an Amythaonian dwelling.

II.iv Multa prius dominae delicta queraris oportet, saepe roges aliquid, saepe repulsus eas, et saepe immeritos corrumpas dentibus unguis, et crepitum dubio suscitet ira pede! nequiquam perfusa meis unguenta capillis, 5 ibat et expenso planta morata gradu. non hic herba ualet, non hic nocturna Cytaeis, non Perimedaea gramina cocta manu; quippe ubi nec causas nec apertos cernimus ictus; unde tamen ueniant tot mala caeca uia est. 10 non eget hic medicis, non lectis mollibus aeger, huic nullum caeli tempus et aura nocet; ambulat—et subito mirantur funus amici! sic est incautum, quidquid habetur amor. nam cui non ego sum fallaci praemia uati? 15 quae mea non decies somnia uersat anus? hostis si quis erit nobis, amet ille puellas: gaudeat in puero, si quis amicus erit. tranquillo tuta descendis ﬂumine cumba: quid tibi tam parui litoris unda nocet? 20 alter saepe uno mutat praecordia uerbo, altera uix ipso sanguine mollis erit.

94 BOOK TWO POEM 2.4

2.4 It’s okay you bitch how your girlfriend mistreats you: you’re always looking and never getting. You bite and scratch the innocent, disﬁguring them. Rage begins to din with trembling foot! In vain I drenched my hair in perfume. My lingering sole pondered each step.

Here, herbs are no good, nor the nocturnal Cytaean, nor grass stewed by Perimede’s hand. We discern neither motives nor open blows. Countless evils come by some mysterious route. The victim doesn’t lack doctors or soft beds. It is not the season or a courant d’air that harms him. He’s out walking—and suddenly friends wonder at his funeral! It’s impossible to guard against, whatever love is. To which deceptive seer am I not the mark? Which witch does not mull ten times my dreams?

If he will be my enemy, let him love girls. Let him like boys, if he will be my friend. You descend the tranquil river in your safe bark: what harm could come to you from the wave of such a minor beach? The boy often changes his heart with a single word, The girl will scarcely be soft, even when blood is shed.

II.v Hoc uerum est, tota te ferri, Cynthia, Roma, et non ignota uiuere nequitia? haec merui sperare? dabis mihi, perfida, poenas; et nobis aliquo, Cynthia, uentus erit. inueniam tamen e multis fallacibus unam, 5 quae fieri nostro carmine nota uelit, nec mihi tam duris insultet moribus et te uellicet: heu sero flebis amata diu. nunc est ira recens, nunc est discedere tempus; si dolor afuerit, crede, redibit amor. 10 non ita Carpathiae uariant Aquilonibus undae, nec dubio nubes uertitur atra Noto, quam facile irati uerbo mutantur amantes: dum licet, iniusto subtrahe colla iugo. nec tu non aliquid, sed prima nocte, dolebis; 15 omne in amore malum, si patiare, leue est. at tu per dominae Iunonis dulcia iura parce tuis animis, uita, nocere tibi. non solum taurus ferit uncis cornibus hostem, uerum etiam instanti laesa repugnat ouis. 20 nec tibi periuro scindam de corpore uestis, nec mea praeclusas fregerit ira fores, nec tibi conexos iratus carpere crinis, nec duris ausim laedere pollicibus: rusticus haec aliquis tam turpia proelia quaerat, 25 cuius non hederae circuiere caput.

96 BOOK TWO POEM 2.5

2.5 Is it true that all Rome speaks of you, Cynthia, that you betray me openly? Do I deserve this? You’ll pay the price, bitch! The wind will blow me somewhere, Cynthia. I’ll ﬁnd one girl yet out of all the cheats who will enjoy becoming famous through my poetry. She won’t insult me with her imperiousness, and she’ll tear you to pieces! Then ﬁnally you who were loved too long will cry.

Now the anger is fresh, now’s the time to separate. Once the pain goes away, believe me, love will return. Carpathian waves don’t vary with the Aquilonian, nor is a black cloud moved by uncertain Notus as easily as ﬁghting lovers change with a word: while there’s time, remove your neck from the unjust yoke. You will not regret anything, except on the ﬁrst night. Everything painful in love, if you endure it, becomes light.

But please, by the happy laws of Queen Juno, don’t harm yourself, love, by your arrogance. It’s not just the bull who wounds his enemy with curving horns. Even the injured sheep ﬁghts back his attacker. I swear I won’t tear the clothes from my body, nor let my anger shatter locked gates. Though enraged, I wouldn’t dare to snatch your braided locks or jab you with my hard thumbs. Let some rustic look for these nasty scraps, one whose head no ivies gird.

97 scribam igitur, quod non umquam tua deleat aetas, “Cynthia, forma potens: Cynthia, uerba leuis.” crede mihi, quamuis contemnas murmura famae, hic tibi pallore, Cynthia, uersus erit. 30

98 BOOK TWO POEM 2.5

Let me write, then, what your aging may never erase: “Cynthia, potent form: light word, Cynthia!” Believe me, although you deride the murmurs of reputation, this verse, Cynthia, will be your pallor.

II.vi Non ita complebant Ephyraeae Laidos aedis, ad cuius iacuit Graecia tota fores; turba Menandreae fuerat nec Thaidos olim tanta, in qua populus lusit Ericthonius; nec, quae deletas potuit componere Thebas, 5 Phryne tam multis facta beata uiris. quin etiam falsos ﬁngis tibi saepe propinquos, oscula nec desunt qui tibi iure ferant. me iuuenum pictae facies, me nomina laedunt, me tener in cunis et sine uoce puer; 10 me laedet, si multa tibi dabit ocsula mater, me soror et cum qua dormit amica simul: omnia me laedent: timidus sum (ignosce timori): et miser in tunica suspicor esse uirum. his olim, ut fama est, uitiis ad proelia uentum est, 15 his Troiana uides funera principiis; aspera Centauros eadem dementia iussit frangere in aduersum pocula Pirithoum. cur exempla petam Graium? tu criminis auctor, nutritus duro, Romule, lacte lupae: 20 tu rapere intactas docuisti impune Sabinas: per te nunc Romae quidlibet audet Amor. felix Admeti coniunx et lectus Vlixis, et quaecumque uiri femina limen amat! templa Pudicitiae quid opus statuisse puellis, 25 si cuiuis nuptae quidlibet esse licet?

100 BOOK TWO POEM 2.6

2.6 The Ephyrean apartments of Lais, at whose doors all Greece lay, were never this full. Menander’s Thais, who delighted the Ericthonian populace, never had such a big fan club, and Phryne, who was able to rebuild shattered Thebes, wasn’t enriched by this many men. In fact, you sometimes even contrive fake relatives, and there’s no shortage of kisses they’re happy to provide.

Portraits of youths and their names destroy me— the tender voiceless boy in his cradle destroys me! Your mother destroys me, if she gives you lots of kisses, so do your sister and her girlfriend, who sleeps with her. Everything destroys me: I’m cowardly (pardon my fear) and in my madness I suspect there’s a man inside that dress.

Once, they say, this kind of promiscuity led to war; in these beginnings you see the Trojan funerals. That same dementia forced the Centaurs to smash their rough cups on top of Pirithous. Why should I turn to the Greeks? You were author of a crime, Romulus, raised on the wolf’s crude milk: you taught men to rape virgin Sabines without a thought: because of you, in Rome these days Love dares whatever he likes. Praiseworthy are Admetus’ spouse and the bed of Ulysses and whatever woman respects her husband’s threshold! What’s the point of those girls erecting a temple to Modesty if any bride may act as she pleases?

101 quae manus obscenas depinxit prima tabellas et posuit casta turpia uisa domo, illa puellarum ingenuos corrupit ocellos nequitiaeque suae noluit esse rudis. 30 a gemat in tenebris ista qui protulit arte orgia sub tacita condita laetitia! non istis olim uariabant tecta ﬁguris: tum paries nullo crimine pictus erat. sed non immerito uelauit aranea fanum 35 et mala desertos occupat herba deos. quos igitur tibi custodes, quae limina ponam, quae numquam supra pes inimicus eat? nam nihil inuitae tristis custodia prodest: quam peccare pudet, Cynthia, tuta sat est. 40 nos uxor numquam, numquam deducet amica: semper amica mihi, semper et uxor eris.

102 BOOK TWO POEM 2.6

The hand that first painted obscene pictures, placing filth in chaste homes for all to see, corrupted the trusting eyes of girls to demonstrate its proficiency in lewdness. Let him groan in the darkness, who revealed by that art orgies once hidden by respectful joy! In the old days, they didn’t decorate their houses with those figures: back then, no wall was painted with pornography. No wonder the spider has taken over the shrine and weeds occupy what the gods left behind.

So which doormen, what thresholds should I install for you, that no undesirable foot may ever pass? No joyless guard appears for the unwilling girl: she who’s ashamed to sin, Cynthia, is safe enough. A wife never, never will a friend lead me astray: you will always be my friend, and always my wife.

103

II.vii Gauisa est certe sublatam Cynthia legem, qua quondam edicta ﬂemus uterque diu, ni nos diuideret: quamuis diducere amantis non queat inuitos Iuppiter ipse duos.

“At magnus Caesar.” sed magnus Caesar in armis: 5 deuictae gentes nil in amore ualent. nam citius paterer caput hoc discedere collo quam possem nuptae perdere more faces, aut ego transirem tua limina clausa maritus, respiciens udis prodita luminibus. 10 a mea tum qualis caneret tibi tibia somnos, tibia, funesta tristior illa tuba! unde mihi patriis natos praebere triumphis? nullus de nostro sanguine miles erit. quod si uera meae comitarem castra puellae, 15 non mihi sat magnus Castoris iret equus. hinc etenim tantum meruit mea gloria nomen, gloria ad hibernos lata Borysthenidas. tu mihi sola places: placeam tibi, Cynthia, solus: hic erit et patrio sanguine pluris amor. 20

104 BOOK TWO POEM 2.7

2.7 Cynthia delights, certainly, that the law has been lifted, those edicts we once cried so much over, afraid they’d separate us, although Jupiter himself is unable to divide two unwilling lovers.

“But Caesar is great.” But Caesar is great in war: conquered nations are worth nothing in love. I would sooner allow my head to be severed from my neck than I’d bear wasting torches at some bride’s command or passing your bolted gate, a married man, looking back with wet eyes at what I’d lost. Ah, then what dirges my ﬂute would sing for you, ﬂute, even sadder than the funeral bugle!

Where will I get sons to offer for triumphs of the state? None from my blood will be a soldier. But if I were lodging in real camps—my girl’s— Castor’s great horse wouldn’t go fast enough for me. My glory from this service has earned my fame, glory far and wide to northern Borysthenis. You alone please me: may I alone, Cynthia, please you: this love will be worth much more than the blood of my fathers.

105

II.viii Eripitur nobis iam pridem cara puella: et tu me lacrimas fundere, amice, uetas? nullae sunt inimicitiae nisi amoris acerbae: ipsum me iugula, lenior hostis ero. possum ego in alterius positam spectare lacerto? 5 nec mea dicetur, quae modo dicta mea est? omnia uertuntur: certe uertuntur amores: uinceris aut uincis, haec in amore rota est. magni saepe duces, magni cecidere tyranni, et Thebae steterant altaque Troia fuit. 10 munera quanta dedi uel qualia carmina feci! illa tamen numquam ferrea dixit, “Amo.” ergo iam multos nimium temerarius annos, improba, qui tulerim teque tuamque domum? ecquandone tibi liber sum uisus? an usque 15 in nostrum iacies uerba superba caput? sic igitur prima moriere aetate, Properti? sed morere; interitu gaudeat illa tuo! exagitet nostros Manis, sectetur et umbras, insultetque rogis, calcet et ossa mea! 20 quid? non Antigonae tumulo Boeotius Haemon corruit ipse suo saucius ense latus, et sua cum miserae permiscuit ossa puellae, qua sine Thebanam noluit ire domum? sed non effugies: mecum moriaris oportet; 25 hoc eodem ferro stillet uterque cruor.

106 BOOK TWO POEM 2.8

2.8 My beloved girlfriend is ripped from me: and you, my friend, forbid me to to shed tears? No enmity is as bitter as love’s: even cut my throat, and I’ll be a calmer opponent. Can I bear to see her wrapped in another’s arms? Is she not mine, who just now was mine? Everything is changed: certainly loves are changed: you are conquered or you conquer, this is love’s wheel. Great leaders, great tyrants have often fallen: Thebes once stood, and lofty Troy existed. So many presents I gave, such poems I wrote! But she, with her heart of iron, never once said, “I love.”

So was I totally ridiculous all those years, you slut, when I supported you and your household? And when have I ever been free of you? Or will you continue to dump your contempt on my head?

Are you going to die then, Propertius, still so young? So die; let her celebrate your destruction! Let her scatter my remains, let her chase my ghost, let her dance on my grave, let her trample my bones! What? Didn’t Boeotian Haemon on Antigone’s burial mound chop into his side with his own sword and mix his bones with those of the unfortunate girl, without whom he had no desire to return home to Thebes?

But you’ll not escape: you should die with me. The blood of both should drip from this same iron.

107 quamuis ista mihi mors est inhonesta futura: mors inhonesta quidem, tu moriere tamen. ille etiam abrepta desertus coniuge Achilles cessare in tectis pertulit arma sua. 30 uiderat ille fuga stratos in litore Achiuos, feruere et Hectorea Dorica castra face; uiderat informem multa Patroclon harena porrectum et sparsas caede iacere comas, omnia formosam propter Briseida passus: 35 tantus in erepto saeuit amore dolor. at postquam sera captiua est reddita poena, fortem illum Haemoniis Hectora traxit equis. inferior multo cum sim uel matre uel armis, mirum, si de me iure triumphat Amor? 40

108 BOOK TWO POEM 2.8

Although that will be an ugly death for me: an ugly death indeed, still you will die.

Even that hero, abandoned Achilles, left off showering the rooftops with his arrows when his woman was snatched from him. He had seen the Achaeans in ﬂight, strewn by the shore, and the Doric camps burned with Hector’s ﬂame. He had seen Patroclus hideously smeared with dirt lying stretched out, his hair wet with blood. He endured it all for his beautiful Briseis: such is the pain that rages when love is ripped away.

But later, when the captive girl was returned too late, he dragged that strong Hector with Haemonian horses. Since I’m no match in mother or weapons, is it any wonder, if Love triumphs over me by right?

109

II.ix a Iste quod est, ego saepe fui: sed fors et in hora hoc ipso eiecto carior alter erit.

Penelope poterat bis denos salua per annos uiuere, tam multis femina digna procis; coniugium falsa poterat differre Minerua, 5 nocturno soluens texta diurna dolo; uisura et quamuis numquam speraret Vlixem, illum exspectando facta remansit anus. nec non exanimem amplectens Briseis Achillem candida uesana uerberat ora manu; 10 et dominum lauit maerens captiua cruentum, propositum ﬂauis in Simoente uadis, foedauitque comas, et tanti corpus Achilli maximaque in parua sustulit ossa manu; cum tibi nec Peleus aderat nec caerula mater, 15 Scyria nec uiduo Deidamia toro. tunc igitur veris gaudebat Graecia nuptis, tunc etiam felix inter et arma pudor. at tu non una potuisti nocte uacare, impia, non unum sola manere diem! 20 quin etiam multo duxistis pocula risu: forsitan et de me uerba fuere mala. hic etiam petitur, qui te prius ipse reliquit: di faciant, isto capta fruare uiro! haec mihi uota tuam propter suscepta salutem, 25 cum capite hoc Stygiae iam poterentur aquae,

110 BOOK TWO POEM 2.9A

2.9 A That man there—that was me: but perhaps in time, when this one’s cast out, another will be even dearer.

Penelope was able to survive untouched for twenty years, a worthy woman with so many suitors. She was able to put off a wedding with deceptive Minerva, secretly unstitching at night what during the day she had woven: and although she never dreamed she’d see Ulysses again, she continued to wait for him, even as she grew old. Briseis embraced the still breathing Achilles and refrained from slapping her beautiful face in rage. Mourning, the captive girl washed her bloody lord, laid out in the golden waves of the Simois. She deﬁled her hair, and she carried the body and massive bones of great Achilles in her small hands. Peleus was not with you, nor was your sea-green mother, nor Scyrian Deidamia, her bed empty. In those days, Greece rejoiced in true nuptials. Even then, in wartime, there was a happy decency.

But you couldn’t be alone for one night, you whore, couldn’t stay one day by yourself! You even led the drinking with raucous laughter: and probably there was a lot of shit said about me. You even looked up the guy who dumped you: gods will it that you delight in that man and be stuck with him! Were these my prayers for your health when the Stygian waters were already around your head,

111 et lectum flentes circum staremus amici? hic ubi tum, pro di, perfida, quisue fuit? quid si longinquos retinerer miles ad Indos, aut mea si staret nauis in Oceano? 30 sed uobis facile est uerba et componere fraudes: hoc unum didicit femina semper opus. non sic incerto mutantur flamine Syrtes, nec folia hiberno tam tremefacta Noto, quam cito feminea non constat foedus in ira, 35 siue dea causa grauis siue ea causa leuis. nunc, quoniam ista tibi placuit sententia, cedam: tela, precor, pueri, promite acuta magis, figite certantes atque hanc mihi soluite uitam! sanguis erit uobis maxima palma meus. 40 sidera sunt testes et matutina pruina et furtim misero ianua aperta mihi, te nihil in uita nobis acceptius umquam: nunc quoque erit, quamuis sis inimica, nihil. nec domina ulla meo ponet uestigia lecto: 45 solus ero, quoniam non licet esse tuum. atque utinam, si forte pios eduximus annos, ille uir in medio fiat amore lapis!

112 BOOK TWO POEM 2.9A and we, your friends, stood circling your bed, crying? This man, by god, where was he then, you faithless bitch?

What if I were a soldier detained in distant India, or my ship was out on the Ocean? For you women, it’s easy to compose words and deceit: woman always learns this one task. Not even the Syrtes are moved by an indecisive breeze nor leaves shaken by blustery Notus as quickly as an agreement crumbles in female rage, whether the excuse be serious or frivolous.

Now, since these thoughts have pleased you, I will yield. Spears, I pray, boys, promise me really sharp ones. Make a contest of piercing and dissolving this life of mine! My blood will be your greatest triumph.

The stars are witnesses and morning frost and the gate opened secretly to despicable me, that nothing in life ever pleased me as much as you: now, although you are inimical, still there will be nothing. No other woman will leave traces in my bed: I’ll be alone, since I can’t be yours. And I hope, if by chance I’ve lived a pious life, that man may turn to stone while he’s doing you!

113

II.ix b Non ob regna magis diris cecidere sub armis Thebani media non sine matre duces, 50 quam, mihi si media liceat pugnare puella, mortem ego non fugiam morte subire tua.

114 BOOK TWO POEM 2.9B

2.9 B In dire contest for a kingdom, the Theban leaders did not fall in front of their mother any more willingly than I too, given the chance to ﬁght in front of my girlfriend, would not shrink from death, as long as you too die.

115

II.x Sed tempus lustrare aliis Helicona choreis, et campum Haemonio iam dare tempus equo. iam libet et fortis memorare ad proelia turmas et Romana mei dicere castra ducis. quod si deﬁciant uires, audacia certe 5 laus erit: in magnis et uoluisse sat est. aetas prima canat Veneres, extrema tumultus: bella canam, quando scripta puella mea est. nunc uolo subducto grauior procedere uultu, nunc aliam citharam me mea Musa docet. 10 surge, anima, ex humili; iam, carmina, sumite uires; Pierides, magni nunc erit oris opus. iam negat Euphrates equitem post terga tueri Parthorum, et Crassos se tenuisse dolet: India quin, Auguste, tuo dat colla triumpho, 15 et domus intactae te tremit Arabiae; et si qua extremis tellus se subtrahit oris, sentiat illa tuas postmodo capta manus! haec ego castra sequar; uates tua castra canendo magnus ero: seruent hunc mihi fata diem! 20 ut, caput in magnis ubi non est tangere signis, ponitur hac imos ante corona pedes,

116 BOOK TWO POEM 2.10

2.10 But it’s time to refresh Helicon with other choruses, and it’s past time to give the ﬁeld to the Haemonian steed. Now it’s right to commemorate valiant troops at war and to tell of the Roman camps of my leader. Because, if strength is lacking, audacity certainly will bring praise: in great endeavors, to have wanted to do is enough.

Youth sings of Venus’ pleasures, old age of conﬂict. I will sing wars, when my girl has been written. Now I want to proceed more seriously, with furrowed brow; now my Muse teaches me a different lute.

Rise, breath, from your depths. Come, songs, assume your strength. Pierides, this will now be the work of a great voice. Already, the Euphrates denies protection to the Parthian behind- the-back horseman and regrets that the Crassi were taken: even India, Augustus, gives its neck to your triumph and the home of untouched Arabia trembles before you. And if some other land lies secluded on distant shores, let that land soon be conquered and feel your hands! These camps will I follow; singing your camps I will be a great poet: may my destiny observe this day!

But just as a crown is placed here before the lowly feet when it cannot reach the head of huge statues,

117 sic nos nunc, inopes laudis conscendere carmen, pauperibus sacris uilia tura damus. nondum etiam Ascraeos norunt mea carmina fontis, 25 sed modo Permessi ﬂumine lauit Amor.

118 BOOK TWO POEM 2.10 so now, unable to mount the song of praise, we give cheap incense as a pauper’s rites.

My songs don’t know the Ascraean springs yet, but Love only washes them with Permessus’ stream.

119

II.xi Scribant de te alii uel sis ignota licebit: laudet, qui sterili semina ponit humo. omnia, crede mihi, tecum uno munera lecto auferet extremi funeris atra dies; et tua transibit contemnens ossa uiator, 5 nec dicet, “Cinis hic docta puella fuit.”

120 BOOK TWO POEM 2.11

2.11 Let others write about you, or you will be unknown: let him praise who drops his seed on sterile earth. Believe me, the black day of your last rites will wipe out all your gifts on a single bed, and the traveler will pass over your bones with contempt, and he will not say, “This ash was a brilliant girl.”

121

II.xii Quicumque ille fuit, puerum qui pinxit Amorem, nonne putas miras hunc habuisse manus? is primum uidit sine sensu uiuere amantis, et leuibus curis magna perire bona. idem non frustra uentosas addidit alas, 5 fecit et humano corde uolare deum: scilicet alterna quoniam iactamur in unda, nostraque non ullis permanet aura locis. et merito hamatis manus est armata sagittis, et pharetra ex umero Cnosia utroque iacet: 10 ante ferit quoniam tuti quam cernimus hostem, nec quisquam ex illo uulnere sanus abit. in me tela manent, manet et puerilis imago: sed certe pennas perdidit ille suas; euolat heu nostro quoniam de pectore nusquam, 15 assiduusque meo sanguine bella gerit. quid tibi iucundum est siccis habitare medullis? si pudor est, alio traice tela tua! intactos isto satius temptare ueneno: non ego, sed tenuis uapulat umbra mea. 20 quam si perdideris, quis erit qui talia cantet, (haec mea Musa leuis gloria magna tua est), qui caput et digitos et lumina nigra puellae et canat ut soleant molliter ire pedes?

122 BOOK TWO POEM 2.12

2.12 Whoever he was who painted the boy Love, don’t you think he had wonderful hands? He was the first to see that lovers live without logic, that the good things in life are destroyed by frivolous desires. The same man wisely added wind-filled wings, and he made the god fly from a human heart: certainly, we are tossed by wave after wave, and our breeze remains in no one place. And rightly his hand is armed with hooked arrows, and a Knossian quiver hangs from both shoulders: before he shoots, we see from safety how dangerous he is, and nobody walks away sane from his wound.

Darts remain in me, and the puerile image remains: but certainly he has lost his feathers. Alas, he never ﬂies from my breast, and unceasingly he wages war in my blood. Why is it so pleasing to you to live in my lifeless marrow? If you have any shame, transfer your arrows to another man! It is more than enough to tempt virgins with this poison: not I, but my delicate soul takes a beating. If you lose that, who will be there to chant such songs (they are your great glory, my nimble Muse)?

Who will sing head and ﬁngers and the girl’s black eyes, how her feet go smoothly?

123

II.xiii a Non tot Achaemeniis armantur Susa sagittis, spicula quot nostro pectore ﬁxit Amor. hic me tam gracilis uetuit contemnere Musas, iussit et Ascraeum sic habitare nemus; non ut Pieriae quercus mea uerba sequantur, 5 aut possim Ismaria ducere ualle feras, sed magis ut nostro stupeﬁat Cynthia uersu: tunc ego sim Inachio notior arte Lino. non ego sum formae tantum mirator honestae, nec si qua illustris femina iactat auos: 10 me iuuet in gremio doctae legisse puellae, auribus et puris scripta probasse mea. haec ubi contigerint, populi confusa ualeto fabula: nam domina iudice tutus ero. quae si forte bonas ad pacem uerterit auris, 15 possum inimicitias tunc ego ferre Iouis.

124 BOOK TWO POEM 2.13A

2.13 A Susa was not armed with so many Achaemenian arrows as the darts Love ﬁxed in my heart. He has forbidden me to snub the slender Muses, and he orders me to inhabit the Ascraean grove, not so that Pierian oak should follow my words, or that I be able to enchant beasts in the valley of Mount Ismarus, but rather so that Cynthia be stupeﬁed by my verse: then I’ll be more famous in my art than Inachian Linus.

I am not such an admirer of decent beauty, nor of a woman who brags about her famous ancestors: may it please me to have recited in the arms of an educated girl, and to have tried out my poetry on her pure ears. If that should happen, let the confused talk of the masses have its day: for I will be safe in my mistress’ ajudication. If she should happen to turn fair ears to reconciliation, then I can bear the enmity of Jove.

125

II.xiii b quandocumque igitur nostros mors claudet ocellos, accipe quae serues funeris acta mei. nec mea tunc longa spatietur imagine pompa, nec tuba sit fati uana querela mei; 20 nec mihi tunc fulcro sternatur lectus eburno, nec sit in Attalico mors mea nixa toro. desit odoriferis ordo mihi lancibus, adsint plebei paruae funeris exsequiae. sat sit magna mei si tres sint pompa libelli, 25 quos ego Persephonae maxima dona feram. tu uero nudum pectus lacerata sequeris, nec fueris nomen lassa uocare meum, osculaque in gelidis pones suprema labellis, cum dabitur Syrio munere plenus onyx. 30 deinde, ubi suppositus cinerem me fecerit ardor, accipiat Manis paruula testa meos, et sit in exiguo laurus super addita busto, quae tegat exstincti funeris umbra locum, et duo sint uersus: QVI NVNC IACET HORRIDA PVLVIS, 35 VNIVS HIC QVONDAM SERVVS AMORIS ERAT. nec minus haec nostri notescet fama sepulcri, quam fuerant Pthii busta cruenta uiri. tu quoque si quando uenies ad fata, memento, hoc iter ad lapides cana ueni memores. 40 interea caue sis nos aspernata sepultos: non nihil ad uerum conscia terra sapit.

126 BOOK TWO POEM 2.13B

2.13 B Whenever it is, then, that death will close my eyes, undertake for me whatever type of funeral you can manage. Let there be no long procession of my family portraits, no trumpet bewailing my fate in vain. Let there be no bier spread with ivory headrest, nor let my corpse lie on an Attalic couch. Let there be no array of delicious platters; but rather the modest rites of a common funeral. My procession will be grand enough if it contains my three chapbooks, which I would bear as my greatest gifts to Persephone.

You will follow, tearing at your naked breast. You’ll be exhausted from crying my name, and you will place your ﬁnal kisses on my icy lips, when the alabaster jar full of Syrian oils will be offered. Then, when the ﬂame has been applied and turned me into ash, let a small jug receive my remains, and above a narrow grave have a laurel planted, which can cover the place of the extinct pyre with shade, and let there be inscribed two verses: WHO NOW LIES HERE, FRIGHTFUL DUST, WAS ONCE THE SLAVE OF A SINGLE LOVE.

The fame of my sepulcher becomes no less known than was the bloody tomb of the Pthian man. You also, when you approach death, remember: take this path, an old lady, to my memorial stones. Make sure meanwhile you don’t disdain my tomb. The earth is truly conscious and knows everything.

127 atque utinam primis animam me ponere cunis iussisset quaeuis de Tribus una Soror! nam quo tam dubiae seruetur spiritus horae? 45 Nestoris est uisus post tria saecla cinis: cui si longaeuae minuisset fata senectae barbarus Iliacis miles in aggeribus, non ille Antilochi uidisset corpus humari, diceret aut, “O mors, cur mihi sera uenis?” 50 tu tamen amisso non numquam ﬂebis amico: fas est praeteritos semper amare uiros. testis, cui niueum quondam percussit Adonem uenantem Idalio uertice durus aper; illis formosum lavisse paludibus, illic 55 diceris effusa tu, Venus, isse coma. sed frustra mutos reuocabis, Cynthia, Manis: nam mea qui poterunt ossa minuta loqui?

128 BOOK TWO POEM 2.13B

I wish one of the Three Sisters had ordered me to lay down my life in earliest childhood! For what is the soul’s precarious existence preserved? After three generations, Nestor’s ashes were seen: if a barbarian soldier on the Trojan ramparts had limited the fate of his long-lasting elderliness, he would not have seen Antilochus’ body buried, or cried, “O death, why do you come to me too late?”

You, though, will frequently mourn your lost friend: it is right to love always those who have passed away.

Witness the wild boar that gored snowy Adonis while he hunted on the Idalian peaks; you, Venus, are said to have bathed that beautiful youth in marsh pools, to have wandered about, your hair undone. But in vain you’ll call back my mute remains, Cynthia, for what will my crumbled bones be able to say?

129

II.xiv Non ita Dardanio gauisus Atrida triumpho est, cum caderent magnae Laomedontis opes; nec sic errore exacto laetatus Vlixes, cum tetigit carae litora Dulichiae; nec sic Electra, saluum cum aspexit Oresten, 5 cuius falsa tenens ﬂeuerat ossa soror; nec sic incolumem Minois Thesea uidit, Daedalium lino cum duce rexit iter; quanta ego praeterita collegi gaudia nocte: immortalis ero, si altera talis erit. 10 nec mihi iam fastus opponere quaerit iniquos, 13 nec mihi ploranti lenta sedere potest; 14 at dum demissis supplex ceruicibus ibam, 11 dicebar sicco uilior esse lacu. 12 atque utinam non tam sero mihi nota fuisset 15 condicio! cinere nunc medicina datur. ante pedes caecis lucebat semita nobis: scilicet insano nemo in amore uidet. hoc sensi prodesse magis: contemnite, amantes! sic hodie ueniet, si qua negauit heri. 20 pulsabant alii frustra dominamque uocabant: mecum habuit positum lenta puella caput. haec mihi deuictis potior uictoria Parthis, haec spolia, haec reges, haec mihi currus erunt. magna ego dona tua ﬁgam, Cytherea, columna, 25 taleque sub nostro nomine carmen erit:

130 BOOK TWO POEM 2.14

2.14 The Atreid didn’t feel such a rush in his Dardan triumph, when the great wealth of Laomedon fell. Ulysses wasn’t this happy when his wandering ended, and he touched the shores of his dear Dulichia; nor was Electra, when she spied Orestes safe, whose bones his sister had thought she held in mourning; nor was the Minoid when she saw Theseus unharmed after he managed the Daedalian path with a thread as guide. None experienced the joy I gathered in the past night: one more night like that, and I’ll be immortal.

She does not dare to oppose my unjust arrogance; she is not able to sit by apathetically while I lament; but while I was walking around humbly, my neck bowed, I was said to be worth less than an empty cistern. If only the terms had not become known to me too late! The medicine is now applied to ashes. The path shone clear before my feet, but I was blind: of course, no one sees clearly while their passion rages. I found this to be more productive: disdain, lovers! She will come today, if yesterday she denied you.

Other men were knocking in vain and calling her “mistress”: the girl held my head in position, unconcerned. She will be a victory dearer to me than conquered Parthians, she will be my spoils, kings, and chariots. I will afﬁx great gifts to your column, Cytherea, and this will be the poem under my name:

131

HAS PONO ANTE TVAS TIBI, DIVA, PROPERTIUS AEDIS EXUVVIAS, TOTA NOCTE RECEPTVS AMANS.

Nunc ad te, mea lux, ueniatne ad litora nauis seruata, an mediis sidat onusta uadis. 30 quod si forte aliqua nobis mutabere culpa, uestibulum iaceam mortuus ante tuum!

132 BOOK TWO POEM 2.14

THESE OFFERINGS I, PROPERTIUS, PLACE, GODDESS, BEFORE YOUR TEMPLE, PLEDGING MYSELF AN ALL-NIGHT LOVER.

Now it’s up to you, my light, whether my ship comes safe to shore, or runs aground, burdened, in the shallows. If you should change due to some fault of mine, may I lie dead before your entrance!

133

II.xv O me felicem! o nox mihi candida! et o tu lectule deliciis facte beate meis! quam multa apposita narramus uerba lucerna, quantaque sublato lumine rixa fuit! nam modo nudatis mecum est luctata papillis, 5 interdum tunica duxit operta moram. illa meos somno lapsos patefecit ocellos ore suo et dixit, “Sicine, lente, iaces?” quam uario amplexu mutamus bracchia! quantum oscula sunt labris nostra morata tuis! 10 non iuuat in caeco Venerem corrumpere motu: si nescis, oculi sunt in amore duces. ipse Paris nuda fertur periisse Lacaena, cum Menelaeo surgeret et thalamo: nudus et Endymion Phoebi cepisse sororem 15 dicitur et nudae concubuisse deae. quod si pertendens animo uestita cubaris, scissa ueste meas experiere manus: quin etiam, si me ulterius prouexerit ira, ostendes matri bracchia laesa tuae. 20 necdum inclinatae prohibent te ludere mammae: uiderit haec, si quam iam peperisse pudet. dum nos Fata sinunt, oculos satiemus amore: nox tibi longa uenit, nec reditura dies. atque utinam haerentis sic nos uincire catena 25 uelles, ut numquam solueret ulla dies!

134 BOOK TWO POEM 2.15

2.15 Lucky me! radiant night! and you couch made fertile by my pleasures!

As many words as we shared while the lamps were on— once light was removed, that many bouts ensued! First she wrestles me with naked breasts, then her concealing tunic brings delay. She pushes open my lids, as they slip into sleep, and says, with her expression, “So, you lie there spent?” With such varied embrace we exchange positions! So many of my kisses linger on your lips!

Venus does not enjoy corrupting in the dark: if you don’t know, eyes are the instigators in sex. They say Paris himself was undone by the nude Laconian girl as he stood up from Menelaus’ bed: and nude Endymion is said to have snared Apollo’s sister, to have gone to bed with the naked goddess. But if you intend to go to bed and keep your clothes on, you’ll feel my hands ripping your clothing: in fact, if excessive rage provokes me, you’ll be showing your mom your battered arms.

Drooping boobs don’t yet preclude your play: let her worry who knows the shame of having given birth. While the Fates permit us, let us sate our eyes on sex: a long night is coming for you, daylight never to return. If only you’d agree that we be bound like this in mid-embrace by a chain that no day would ever loosen!

135 exemplo iunctae tibi sint in amore columbae, masculus et totum femina coniugium. errat, qui finem uesani quaerit amoris: uerus amor nullum nouit habere modum. 30 terra prius falso partu deludet arantis, et citius nigros Sol agitabit equos, fluminaque ad caput incipient reuocare liquores, aridus et sicco gurgite piscis erit, quam possim nostros alio transferre dolores: 35 huius ero uiuus, mortuus huius ero. quod mihi si secum talis concedere noctes illa uelit, uitae longus et annus erit. si dabit et multas, fiam immortalis in illis: nocte una quiuis uel deus esse potest. 40 qualem si cuncti cuperent decurrere uitam et pressi multo membra iacere mero, non ferrum crudele neque esset bellica nauis, nec nostra Actiacum uerteret ossa mare, nec totiens propriis circum oppugnata triumphis 45 lassa foret crinis soluere Roma suos. haec certe merito poterunt laudare minores: laeserunt nullos pocula nostra deos. tu modo, dum lucet, fructum ne desere uitae! omnia si dederis oscula, pauca dabis; 50

136 BOOK TWO POEM 2.15

Let joined doves be an example to you of love, the male and female in complete union. He is mistaken, who seeks a limit for love’s madness: true lust is incapable of moderation.

The earth will delude plowers with a false crop, and the Sun furiously drive black horses; rivers will begin recalling their waters to their sources, and dry ﬁsh survive in dried-up oceans before I could transfer my torments to another: I’ll be hers alive; dead I will be hers.

If she is willing to grant me such nights with her, it will be a huge year in my life; and if she’ll give many nights, I’ll become immortal in them: in a single night, she makes anybody feel like a god.

But you, while there’s light, don’t neglect the fruit of life! If you give all your kisses, you give few.

137 ac ueluti folia arentis liquere corollas, quae passim calathis strata natare uides, sic nobis, qui nunc magnum spiramus amantes: forsitan includet crastina fata dies.

138 BOOK TWO POEM 2.15

And just as leaves fall from dried-up garlands, and you see them ﬂoating, strewn over the wine bowls, it’s the same for us, lovers who now breathe vigorously: perhaps tomorrow shuts in our fate.

139

II.xvi Praetor ab Illyricis uenit modo, Cynthia, terris, maxima praeda tibi, maxima cura mihi. non potuit saxo uitam posuisse Cerauno? a, Neptune, tibi qualia dona darem! nunc sine me plena ﬁunt conuiuia mensa, 5 nunc sine me tota ianua nocte patet. quare, si sapis, oblatas ne desere messis et stolidum pleno uellere carpe pecus; deinde, ubi consumpto restabit munere pauper, dic alias iterum nauiget Illyrias! 10

Cynthia non sequitur fascis nec curat honores, semper amatorum ponderat una sinus. at tu nunc nostro, Venus, o succurre dolori, rumpat ut assiduis membra libidinibus! ergo muneribus quiuis mercatur amorem? 15 Iuppiter, indigna merce puella perit. semper in Oceanum mittit me quaerere gemmas, et iubet ex ipsa tollere dona Tyro. atque utinam Romae nemo esset diues, et ipse straminea posset dux habitare casa! 20 numquam uenales essent ad munus amicae, atque una ﬁeret cana puella domo; numquam septenas noctes seiuncta cubares, candida tam foedo bracchia fusa uiro; non quia peccarim (testor te), sed quia uulgo 25 formosis leuitas semper amica fuit.

140 BOOK TWO POEM 2.16

2.16 The praetor comes now, Cynthia, from the Illyric lands, a great plunder for you, a great pain in the ass for me. Couldn’t he have laid down his life on the Ceraunian rock? O, Neptune, such offerings I’d grant!

Now, without me, the party rages with lavish spread, now, without me, her gate stands open every night. Well, if you’re smart, don’t pass up these offered harvests: shear the stupid ﬂock of all its wool; then, when he’s left a pauper, his kindness consumed, tell him to sail off to other Illyrias!

Cynthia doesn’t pursue ofﬁce, and she doesn’t cultivate honors; she’s always best at weighing her lovers’ purses. But you, o Venus, help us in our suffering: let him bust his dick from too much fucking! Can just anyone purchase love with gifts? Jupiter, the girl loses herself for nothing! She always sends me into the Ocean to look for gems, and she orders me to bring back gifts from Tyre itself. O that no one in Rome were rich, and the leader himself could live in a thatched hut! Girlfriends would never be available for hire, and a girl would grow grey in a single home.

Never would you lie down apart for seven nights, draping your beautiful arms over that disgusting man; not because I’ve sinned (you’re the witness) but since levity has always been a friend to the beautiful.

141 barbarus excussis agitat uestigia lumbis— et subito felix nunc mea regna tenet! aspice quid donis Eriphyla inuenit amari, arserit et quantis nupta Creusa malis! 30 nullane sedabit nostros iniuria fletus? an dolor hic uitiis nescit abesse tuis? tot iam abiere dies, cum me nec cura theatri nec tetigit Campi, nec mea mensa iuuat. “at pudeat!” certe, pudeat—nisi forte, quod aiunt, 35 turpis amor surdis auribus esse solet. cerne ducem, modo qui fremitu compleuit inani Actia damnatis aequora militibus: hunc infamis amor uersis dare terga carinis iussit et extremo quaerere in orbe fugam. 40 Caesaris haec uirtus et gloria Caesaris haec est: illa, qua uicit, condidit arma manu. sed quascumque tibi uestis, quoscumque smaragdos, quosue dedit flauo lumine chrysolithos, haec uideam rapidas in uanum ferre procellas: 45 quae tibi terra, uelim, quae tibi fiat aqua. non semper placidus periuros ridet amantis Iuppiter et surda neglegit aure preces.

142 BOOK TWO POEM 2.16

Jerking his loins up and down, the barbarian keeps his tracks moving— and suddenly the happy man holds sway over my kingdom!

Look what bitterness Eriphyla found in her gifts, and in what suffering the bride Creusa burned.

Will no injury allay my sorrow? Does this sadness not know to avoid your wickedness? So often the day has ended, and desire for neither theater nor the Campus grabs me, and dinner disappoints. “But you should be ashamed!” Really, I should—unless by chance, as they say to deaf ears, love is usually vile.

But whatever clothes he gave, whatever jaspers, whatever topaz with its yellow shine, I hope to see whipping gales lift them into the emptiness: whatever’s yours on earth, I want it to go straight into the sea. Jupiter doesn’t always laugh calmly at lying lovers, and he doesn’t turn a deaf ear to prayers.

143 uidisti toto sonitus percurrere caelo, fulminaque aetheria desiluisse domo: 50 non haec Pleiades faciunt neque aquosus Orion, nec sic de nihilo fulminis ira cadit; periuras tunc ille solet punire puellas, deceptus quoniam ﬂeuit et ipse deus. quare ne tibi sit tanti Sidonia uestis, 55 ut timeas, quotiens nubilus Auster erit.

144 BOOK TWO POEM 2.16

You noticed the thunder traversing the sky: lightning leaped down from its heavenly home. The Pleiades aren’t behind this, nor is watery Orion; the lightning bolt’s wrath doesn’t fall like this for nothing. He punishes those girls who have lied, and since he was deceived, cries, even himself, a god. So don’t let your Sidonian robe be so important that you fear every time the Auster is cloudy.

145

II.xvii Mentiri noctem, promissis ducere amantem, 1 hoc erit infectas sanguine habere manus. horum ego sum uates, quotiens desertus amaras expleui noctes, fractus utroque toro. uel tu Tantalea moueare ad flumina sorte, 5 ut liquor arenti fallat ab ore sitim; uel tu Sisyphios licet admirere labores, difficile ut toto monte uolutet onus; durius in terris nihil est quod uiuat amante, nec, modo si sapias, quod minus esse uelis. 10 quem modo felicem inuidia admirante ferebant, nunc decimo admittor uix ego quoque die; nec licet in triuiis sicca requiescere luna, 15 aut per rimosas mittere uerba fores. nunc iacere e duro corpus iuuat, impia, saxo, 13 sumere et in nostras trita uenena manus. quod quamuis ita sit, dominam mutare cauebo: 17 tum flebit, cum in me senserit esse fidem.

146 BOOK TWO POEM 2.17

2.17 To lie about a date, to decieve a lover with promises: you might as well have hands stained with blood! I am poet laureate of this, so often I’ve spent bitter nights, abandoned, shattered on both sides of the bed. You may be moved by Tantalus’ fate at the water, how the liquid deceives his thirst, just beyond his parched mouth; you may marvel at the Sisyphian toils, how, with difﬁculty, he rolls the burden up the entire mountain. Nothing on earth is harder than the life of the lover, nothing, if you only knew, that you’d want less to be.

Once, with admiring envy, they called me happy; now I too am scarcely admitted every tenth day. I’m not allowed to sleep on the street under a dry moon, or to send messages through cracks in the gate. Now I will lie, you slut, on a hard rock, and take strong poison in my hands.

But even though it may be so, I’ll avoid exchanging my mistress: then she’ll cry, when she has felt my ﬁdelity.

147

II.xviii a Assiduae multis odium peperere querelae: frangitur in tacito femina saepe uiro. si quid uidisti, semper uidisse negato! aut si quid doluit forte, dolere nega!

148 BOOK TWO POEM 2.18A

2.18 A Constant quarrels have led to hate for many; a woman is often broken by a silent man. If you’ve seen something, always deny you’ve seen it! or if something has happened to pain you, deny the pain!

149

II.xviii b Quid mea si canis aetas candesceret annis, 5 et faceret scissas languida ruga genas? at non Tithoni spernens Aurora senectam desertum Eoa passa iacere domo est: illum saepe suis decedens fouit in ulnis quam prius abiunctos sedula lauit equos; 10 illum ad uicinos cum amplexa quiesceret Indos, maturos iterum est questa redire dies; illa deos currum conscendens dixit iniquos, inuitum et terris praestitit ofﬁcium. cui maiora senis Tithoni gaudia uiui 15 quam grauis amisso Memnone luctus erat. cum sene non puduit talem dormire puellam et canae totiens oscula ferre comae. at tu etiam iuuenem odisti me, perﬁda, cum sis ipsa anus haud longa curua futura die. 20 quin ego deminuo curam, quod saepe Cupido huic malus esse solet, cui bonus ante fuit.

150 BOOK TWO POEM 2.18B

2.18 B What if my age were beginning to glow with whitening years, and wrinkles were slowly etching my cheeks? But Aurora did not despise Tithonus’ aging; she didn’t let him lie abandoned in her Dawn home: often, her work over, she warmed him in her arms before she diligently washed her unyoked horses. Embracing him when she’d retire in the Indian territories, she’d curse the early day’s return. Getting into her car, she’d call the gods unjust, and perform her unwelcome job for the earth’s sake. For her, the joy of having Tithonus alive, though old, was greater than the heavy sorrow of having lost Memnon. There was no shame for such a girl to sleep with the old man and to shower his white hair with kisses. But you despised me even in my youth, you slut, though you yourself will be an old bag before long in future’s curve. In fact, my grief’s diminishing knowing that Cupid often is bad to him to whom he was good before.

151

II.xviii c Nunc etiam infectos demens imitare Britannos, ludis et externo tincta nitore caput? ut natura dedit, sic omnis recta figura est: 25 turpis Romano Belgicus ore color. illi sub terris fiant mala multa puellae, quae mentita suas uertit inepta comas! deme: mihi certe poteris formosa uideri; mi formosa sat es, si modo saepe uenis. 30 an si caeruleo quaedam sua tempora fuco tinxerit, idcirco caerula forma bona est? cum tibi nec frater nec sit tibi filius ullus, frater ego et tibi sim filius unus ego. ipse tuus semper tibi sit custodia lectus, 35 nec nimis ornata fronte sedere uelis. credam ego narranti noli committere famae: et terram rumor transilit et maria.

152 BOOK TWO POEM 2.18C

2.18 C Have you gone nuts? You imitate the painted Britons? You think it’s funny to dye your hair some unnatural color? Every body looks best the way nature gave it: Belgian color on a Roman face disgusts. May many evils from below the earth await that girl who deceitfully and tastelessly changes her hair! Get rid of it: to me you will certainly be beautiful; to me you’re beautiful enough, if only you appear often. If some girl decides to dye her hair blue, does that mean blue is beautiful? When you’re without your brother, without a son, let me be your brother, let me be your only son. Let your very bed be your constant guardian, and don’t fantasize about sitting with a trendy cut. Don’t give me reason to believe gossip’s prattle: you know rumor leaps across land and sea.

153

II.xix Etsi me inuito discedis, Cynthia, Roma, laetor quod sine me deuia rura coles. nullus erit castis iuuenis corruptor in agris, qui te blanditiis non sinat esse probam; nulla neque ante tuas orietur rixa fenestras, 5 nec tibi clamatae somnus amarus erit. sola eris et solos spectabis, Cynthia, montis et pecus et finis pauperis agricolae. illic te nulli poterunt corrumpere ludi, fanaque peccatis plurima causa tuis. 10 illic assidue tauros spectabis arantis, et uitem docta ponere falce comas; atque ibi rara feres inculto tura sacello, haedus ubi agrestis corruet ante focos; protinus et nuda choreas imitabere sura; 15 omnia ab externo sint modo tuta uiro. ipse ego uenabor: iam nunc me sacra Dianae suscipere et Veneris ponere uota iuuat. incipiam captare feras et reddere pinu cornua et audaces ipse monere canis; 20 non tamen ut uastos ausim temptare leones aut celer agrestis comminus ire sues. haec igitur mihi sit lepores audacia mollis excipere et structo figere auem calamo, qua formosa suo Clitumnus flumina luco 25 integit, et niueos abluit unda boues.

154 BOOK TWO POEM 2.19

2.19 Even though you’re leaving Rome against my wishes, Cynthia, I’m happy, because without me you’ll experience only bleak ﬁelds. There will be no young seducer on the chaste farms, who, with his praises, may tempt you from decency. No brawl will erupt before your windows. Sleep won’t be broken by someone calling your name.

You’ll be alone, Cynthia, with a view of lonely mountains and the ﬂock and property of a frugal farmer. There, no games will corrupt you, or those temple precincts where you love to get laid. There you’ll watch bulls endlessly plowing. You’ll see the vine get a clip from the expert sickle. There you’ll carry a little incense to a crude shrine, where a farmer’s goat will collapse before the altar. Immediately, you’ll bare your calves and follow the dancers: just make sure no unknown man is allowed to enter!

I myself will hunt: it already pleases me to take up the rites of Diana and to set aside my vows to Venus. I’ll begin to chase wild animals, leaving their horns on a pine, goading the bold hounds. Not that I’d dare try enormous lions or rush at wild boars in close exchanges. Just give me the bravery to trap furry hares and to snare a bird with a sticky rod where Clitumnus with its grove shrouds a beautiful stream and cleanses the snow-white ﬂock with its wave.

155 tu quotiens aliquid conabere, uita, memento uenturum paucis me tibi Luciferis. sic me nec solae poterunt auertere siluae, nec uaga muscosis ﬂumina fusa iugis, 30 quin ego in assidua metuam tua nomina lingua: absenti nemo non nocuisse uelit.

156 BOOK TWO POEM 2.19

Whenever you’re thinking of trying something, dear, remember I’ll be coming to you in a few dawns. Lonely woods won’t stop me, or streams wandering between mossy ridges, from fearing your name on a relentless tongue: no one wishes the absent any harm.

157

II.xx Quid fles abducta grauius Briseide? quid fles anxia captiua tristius Andromacha? quidue mea de fraude deos, insana, fatigas? quid quereris nostram sic cecidisse fidem? non tam nocturna uolucris funesta querela 5 Attica Cecropiis obstrepit in foliis, nec tantum Niobe, bis sex ad busta superba, sollicito lacrimans defluit a Sipylo. mi licet aeratis astringant bracchia nodis, sint tua uel Danaes condita membra domo, 10 in te ego et aeratas rumpam, mea uita, catenas, ferratam Danaes transiliamque domum. de te quodcumque, ad surdas mihi dicitur auris: tu modo ne dubita de grauitate mea. ossa tibi iuro per matris et ossa parentis 15 (si fallo, cinis heu sit mihi uterque grauis!) me tibi ad extremas mansurum, uita, tenebras: ambos una fides auferet, una dies. quod si nec nomen nec me tua forma teneret, posset seruitium mite tenere tuum. 20 septima iam plenae deducitur orbita lunae, cum de me et de te compita nulla tacent: interea nobis non numquam ianua mollis, non numquam lecti copia facta tui. nec mihi muneribus nox ulla est empta beatis: 25 quidquid eram, hoc animi gratia magna tui.

158 BOOK TWO POEM 2.20

2.20 Why do you cry more violently than Briseis, after she was abducted? Why do you cry more sadly than Andromache, when she became a frightened captive? Why do you tire the gods with this insane story of my deceit? Why do you complain that my resolve has, as you say, fallen? The funereal Attic bird doesn’t shriek its nocturnal complaints as shrilly in Cecropian leaves; nor did Niobe, so proud it cost her twelve graves, pour so many tears down troubled Sipylus.

Let them bind your arms in bronzed knots and bury your limbs in Danaë’s home. For you I’d break the bronzed bonds, my life, and I’d leap into the iron-clad home of Danaë. Whatever I hear about you falls on deaf ears: you above all must not doubt my seriousness. By the bones of my mother, I swear, the bones of my father (if I’m lying, let both deaths lie heavy on me!), that I’ll remain faithful to you, dear, in death itself: one love, one day, will bear us both away.

Because if neither your fame nor your beauty held me, your mild domination could. Already the seventh orbit of the full moon is drawn down, and no intersection can keep silent about us: besides, for us, the entrance is always easy, always the abundant acts in your bed. Not one of my nights was bought with fancy presents: whatever I was came from the great generosity of your spirit.

159 cum te tam multi peterent, tu me una petisti: possum ego naturae non meminisse tuae? tum me uel tragicae uexetis Erinyes, et me inferno damnes, Aeace, iudicio, 30 atque inter Tityi uolucris mea poena uagetur, tumque ego Sisyphio saxa labore geram! nec tu supplicibus me sis uenerata tabellis: ultima talis erit quae mea prima ﬁdes. hoc mihi perpetua ius est, quod solus amator 35 nec cito desisto nec temere incipio.

160 BOOK TWO POEM 2.20

When so many were seeking you, you sought only me: is it possible for me to be unmindful of your nature?

If I should, may you vex me, tragic Furies, and may you damn me, Aeacus, with hell’s judgment. May my punishment be to roam among Tityus’ birds and to move rocks in Sisyphian labor! No need to implore me with suppliant tablets: such will be the last which was my ﬁrst love. This is my law forever, that, as sole lover, I desist not easily, nor rashly do I begin.

161

II.xxi A quantum de me Panthi tibi pagina ﬁnxit, tantum illi Pantho ne sit amica Venus! sed tibi iam uideor Dodona uerior augur: uxorem ille tuus pulcher amator habet! tot noctes periere: nihil pudet? aspice, cantat 5 liber: tu, nimium credula, sola iaces. et nunc inter eos tu sermo es, te ille superbus dicit se inuito saepe fuisse domi. dispeream, si quicquam aliud quam gloria de te quaeritur: has laudes ille maritus habet. 10

Colchida sic hospes quondam decepit Iason: eiecta est (tenuit namque Creusa) domo. sic a Dulichio iuuene est elusa Calypso: uidit amatorem pandere uela suum. a nimium faciles aurem praebere puellae, 15 discite desertae non temere esse bonae! huic quoque, qui restet, iam pridem quaeritur alter: experta in primo, stulta, cauere potes. nos quocumque loco, nos omni tempore tecum siue aegra pariter siue ualente sumus. 20

162 BOOK TWO POEM 2.21

2.21 Ah, as many lies about me as Panthus’ page to you invented, may Venus be that much Panthus’ enemy! But now you realize I am a better prophet than Dodona: that pretty boyfriend of yours has a wife! So many nights have gone to waste! Doesn’t it embarass you? Look, he sings, free: you, overly gullible, lie alone. Now you are their only topic. That pompous ass says that you were often at his house against his will. May I die if he wants anything other than a trophy out of you: that married man gets lots of praise.

In that way, the guest Jason once deceived the Colchian girl: Creusa, who had him, was kicked out of his house. In that way, Calypso was deluded by the young Dulichian: she saw her lover spread his sails. You easy girls are too generous with your ear: now that you’re abandoned, learn not to be kind too hastily! This one is already looking for a new guy who’ll be true: you should learn from your mistakes, you fool! Be careful!

I am with you in any place, at all times, whether sick or well, equally, I’m with you.

163

II.xxii a Scis here mi multas pariter placuisse puellas; scis mihi, Demophoon, multa uenire mala. nulla meis frustra lustrantur compita plantis; o nimis exitio nata theatra meo, siue aliquis molli diducit candida gestu 5 bracchia, seu uarios incinit ore modos! interea nostri quaerunt sibi uulnus ocelli, candida non tecto pectore si qua sedet, siue uagi crines puris in frontibus errant, Indica quos medio uertice gemma tenet. 10 quaeris, Demophoon, cur sim tam mollis in omnis? 13 quod quaeris, “quare,” non habet ullus amor. cur aliquis sacris laniat sua bracchia cultris 15 et Phrygis insanos caeditur ad numeros? uni cuique dedit uitium natura creato: mi fortuna aliquid semper amare dedit. me licet et Thamyrae cantoris fata sequantur, numquam ad formosas, inuide, caecus ero. 20 sed tibi si exilis uideor tenuatus in artus, falleris: haud umquam est culta labore Venus. percontere licet: saepe est experta puella ofﬁcium tota nocte ualere meum; 24 quae si forte aliquid uultu mihi dura negarat, 11 frigida de tota fronte cadebat aqua. 12

164 BOOK TWO POEM 2.22A

2.22 A You know that recently many girls have pleased me equally; you know, Demophoon, many torments have come to me.

Everywhere I go, I get lucky; o theaters so suited to my destruction, whether one spreads brilliant arms in soft gesture, or sings varying styles on her lips! Meanwhile my eyes seek a hit on their own, if some fantastic chick sits so I can see her tits, or stray curls, held at the crown by an Indian gem, wander down unblemished foreheads.

You ask, Demophoon, why I’m so willing? Since you ask, love has no “why.” Why does a man mutilate his arms with sacred knives and fall to the insane rhythms of the Phrygian? To every human being nature has given a vice: to me fortune granted that I always have affairs. Even if the fate of the singer Thamyras should befall me, never, old boy, will I be blind to the babes.

If you think my limbs are too thin and puny, you’re wrong: Venus is never worshipped by work. It’s okay you ask: often a girl has realized that my service lasts all night. If by chance a certain toughy had denied me something with a look, a cold sweat was soon pouring down her face.

165

Iuppiter Alcmenae geminas requieuerat Arctos, 25 et caelum noctu bis sine rege fuit; nec tamen idcirco languens ad fulmina uenit: nullus amor uires eripit ipse suas. quid? cum e complexu Briseidos iret Achilles, num fugere minus Thessala tela Phryges? 30 quid? ferus Andromachae lecto cum surgeret Hector, bella Mycenaeae non timuere rates? ille uel hic classis poterant uel perdere muros: hic ego Pelides, hic ferus Hector ego. aspice uti caelo modo sol modo luna ministret: 35 sic etiam nobis una puella parum est. altera me cupidis teneat foueatque lacertis, altera si quando non sinit esse locum; aut si forte irata meo sit facta ministro, ut sciat esse aliam, quae uelit esse mea! 40 nam melius duo defendunt retinacula nauim, tutius et geminos anxia mater alit.

166 BOOK TWO POEM 2.22A

Jupiter put to sleep the twin bears for Alcmene, and the heavens were without their king for two nights; he was no laggard, though, when it came time to shoot his bolts: no amount of sex sapped his strength.

What? When Achilles was coming from Briseis’ embrace did the Phrygians flee any less his Thessalian spears? What? When savage Hector rose from Andromache’s bed did the Mycenaean fleets not fear the conflict? This one or that could wreck ships or walls: here I am Pelides, here I’m savage Hector. Look how the sky is tended now by the sun, now by the moon: it’s the same with me—one girl’s not enough.

Let this girl hold and caress me with desirous arms if that girl won’t make room; or if maybe she’s become angry with my servant, knowing she’s just “another,” who wants to be “mine!”

Two cables hold the ship better, and the anxious mother raises twins more calmly.

167

II.xxii b Aut, si es dura, nega: sin es non dura, uenito! quid iuuat in nullo ponere uerba loco? hic unus dolor est ex omnibus acer amanti, 45 speranti subito si qua uenire negat. quanta illum toto uersant suspiria lecto, cum recipi quod non uenerit illa uetat, et rursus puerum quaerendo audita fatigat, quem, quae scire timet, quaerere fata iubet! 50

168 BOOK TWO POEM 2.22B

2.22 B If you’re tough, say no: if not, come on! What good is making empty promises? This particular pain stings the expectant lover: if a girl suddenly refuses to come. Endless sighing tosses him across his bed, since he cannot accept that she will not come! He tires out his servant, asking again what he has already heard; he commands him to ask the fortune he’s afraid to know.

169

II.xxiii Cui fuit indocti fugienda et semita uulgi, ipsa petita lacu nunc mihi dulcis aqua est. ingenuus quisquam alterius dat munera seruo, ut promissa suae uerba ferat dominae? et quaerit totiens, “Quaenam nunc porticus illam 5 integit?” et, “Campo quo mouet illa pedes?” deinde, ubi pertuleris, quos dicit fama labores Herculis, ut scribat, “Muneris ecquid habes?” cernere uti possis uultum custodis amari, captus et immunda saepe latere casa? 10 quam care semel in toto nox uertitur anno!

a pereant, si quos ianua clausa iuuat! contra, reiecto quae libera uadit amictu, custodum et nullo saepta timore, placet; cui saepe immundo Sacra conteritur Via socco, 15 nec sinit esse moram, si quis adire uelit. differet haec numquam, nec poscet garrula, quod te astrictus ploret saepe dedisse pater, nec dicet, “Timeo, propera iam surgere, quaeso: infelix, hodie uir mihi rure uenit.” 20 et quas Euphrates et quas mihi misit Orontes, me iuerint: nolim furta pudica tori. libertas quoniam nulli iam restat amanti; nullus liber erit, si quis amare uolet.

170 BOOK TWO POEM 2.23

2.23 I, who once shunned even the street the crude mass takes, now ﬁnd water drawn at the public cistern sweet.

Is he being frank who gives another’s servant gifts, so he’ll bring a promised message to his mistress? He asks repeatedly, “Which portico now enfolds her?” “In which park does she move her feet?” Then will you put up with “Hercules’ labors” (as rumor has it) just so she can write, “You got a present?” and you can gaze on her bitter chaperon’s mug, and, caught by surprise, often end up hiding in a ﬁlthy shed? Pretty expensive for one night out of the entire year!

To hell with them who keep their portals shut! I like the liberated girl who steps out with cloak thrown back, hedged in by no respect for chaperons, whose shabby slipper often pounds the Via Sacra, who doesn’t delay if someone wants to go to it. She doesn’t chatter or make demands, never puts you off saying her stingy father often regrets having been liberal with you; she doesn’t say, “I’m afraid. Hurry, get up, I beg you: poor me, today my boyfriend’s coming back from the country.”

Let me love the girls the Euphrates and Orontes send: I reject the guilt of furtive trysts.

Freedom is impossible for he who loves; whoever wants to love will never be free.

171

II.xxiv a “Tu loqueris, cum sis iam noto fabula libro et tua sit toto Cynthia lecta foro?” cui non his uerbis aspergat tempora sudor? aut pudor ingenuis aut reticendus amor. quod si tam facilis spiraret Cynthia nobis, 5 non ego nequitiae dicerer esse caput, nec sic per totam infamis traducerer urbem, urerer et quamuis, nomine uerba darem. quare ne tibi sit mirum me quaerere uilis: parcius infamant: num tibi causa leuis? 10

172 BOOK TWO POEM 2.24A

2.24 A “You speak, when your notorious book has already made you famous, and your Cynthia is read in every park?”

Whose brow wouldn’t glisten at these words? For free-born men, shame or a furtive affair: but if Cynthia would blow such fair winds, I wouldn’t be called the head of promiscuity, and my bad reputation wouldn’t be tossed across the city. Although I’d burn, my name would provoke no gossip. So it should be no wonder to you I seek out cheap girls: they defame me less: that’s easy to understand, isn’t it?

173

II.xxiv b et modo pauonis caudae ﬂabella superbae et manibus dura frigus habere pila, et cupit iratum talos me poscere eburnos, quaeque nitent Sacra uilia dona Via. a peream, si me ista mouent dispendia, sed me 15 fallaci dominae iam pudet esse iocum!

174 BOOK TWO POEM 2.24B

2.24 B And sometimes she wants fans from the proud tails of the peacock and hard balls to cool her hands, and sometimes she asks me for ivory dice— the kind of cheap gifts that glitter on the Via Sacra. To hell with it, if such expenses bother me—I already suffer the embarassment of being the joke of a cheating mistress!

175

II.xxiv c Hoc erat in primis quod me gaudere iubebas? tam te formosam non pudet esse leuem? una aut altera nox nondum est in amore peracta, et dicor lecto iam grauis esse tuo. 20 me modo laudabas et carmina nostra legebas: ille tuus pennas tam cito uertit amor? contendat mecum ingenio, contendat et arte, in primis una discat amare domo: si libitum tibi erit, Lernaeas pugnet ad hydras 25 et tibi ab Hesperio mala dracone ferat, taetra uenena libens et naufragus ebibat undas, et numquam pro te deneget esse miser: (quos utinam in nobis, uita, experiare labores!) iam tibi de timidis iste proteruus erit, 30 qui nunc se in tumidum iactando uenit honorem: discidium uobis proximus annus erit. at me non aetas mutabit tota Sibyllae, non labor Alcidae, non niger ille dies. tu mea compones et dices, “Ossa, Properti, 35 haec tua sunt? eheu tu mihi certus eras, certus eras eheu, quamuis nec sanguine auito nobilis et quamuis non ita diues eras.” nil ego non patiar, numquam me iniuria mutat: ferre ego formosam nullum onus esse puto. 40 credo ego non paucos ista periisse ﬁgura, credo ego sed multos non habuisse ﬁdem.

176 BOOK TWO POEM 2.24C

2.24 C Was this what you were planning especially for my pleasure? Are you so beautiful you aren’t ashamed to be ﬁckle? Our ﬁrst or second night of lovemaking is not yet completed, and already I’m being called a drag in your bed. Just now you were praising me and reading my poems: has that love of yours turned his wings so abruptly?

Let that braggart try to contend with me in genius and in art! Let him learn first of all to limit his passion to one house. If it will be pleasing to you, let him fight the Lernaean hydras and let him bring you apples from the Hesperian dragon. Let him happily swallow revolting potions and waves, shipwrecked, and never let him refuse to suffer on your account (would that you’d measure me, love, by such labors!). Soon you’ll find out what a coward he is, this man who now comes vaunting himself with bloated pride: next year will see your breakup.

But me . . . the Sibyl’s lifespan won’t change me, nor the labor of Alcides, nor that black day. You will arrange my bones, and you will say, “Propertius, can these be your bones? God, you were true to me, you were true, oh my god, though you lacked the distinction of noble blood, and though you weren’t too rich.” I’ll suffer nothing, my injuries change me not a jot: I consider it no burden to endure a beautiful girl. I believe that not a few have lost themselves for that body, but I believe not many have been faithful.

177 paruo dilexit spatio Minoida Theseus, Phyllida Demophoon, hospes uterque malus. iam tibi Iasonia nota est Medea carina 45 et modo seruato sola relicta uiro. dura est quae multis simulatum ﬁngit amorem, et se plus uni si qua parare potest. noli nobilibus, noli conferre beatis: uix uenit, extremo qui legat ossa die. 50 hi tibi nos erimus: sed tu potius precor ut me demissis plangas pectora nuda comis.

178 BOOK TWO POEM 2.24C

Theseus chose the Minoid in a flash and Demophoon, Phyllis, both men ungrateful guests. You know the story of Medea on Jason’s ship, and she was abandoned after saving the man’s life. It’s a real bitch who fakes love for many men, who can make herself up for more than one lover. Don’t compare me with nobles, nor with the fortunate: he’s hard to find, the one to gather your remains on the final day. I will be that to you: but I’d prefer it if you beat your naked breasts for me and let down your hair.

179

II.xxv Vnica nata meo pulcherrima cura dolori, excludit quoniam sors mea saepe “ueni,” ista meis ﬁet notissima forma libellis, Calue, tua uenia, pace, Catulle, tua. miles depositis annosus secubat armis, 5 grandaeuique negant ducere aratra boues, putris et in uacua requiescit nauis harena, et uetus in templo bellica parma uacat: at me ab amore tuo deducet nulla senectus, siue ego Tithonus siue ego Nestor ero. 10 nonne fuit satius duro seruire tyranno et gemere in tauro, saeue Perille, tuo? Gorgonis et satius fuit obdurescere uultu, Caucasias etiam si pateremur auis. sed tamen obsistam. teritur robigine mucro 15 ferreus, et paruo saepe liquore silex: at nullo dominae teritur sub crimine amor, qui restat et immerita sustinet aure minas. ulto contemptus rogat, et peccasse fatetur laesus, et inuitis ipse redit pedibus. 20 tu quoque, qui pleno fastus assumis amore, credule, nulla diu femina pondus habet. an quisquam in mediis persoluit uota procellis, cum saepe in portu fracta carina natet? aut prius infecto deposcit praemia cursu, 25 septima quam metam triuerit ante rota?

180 BOOK TWO POEM 2.25

2.25 The one woman born to torment me, most beautiful pain, since I don’t often get the message “Come,” that beauty will become, through my books, the most famous, Calvus, with your leave, with your permission, Catullus. The aged soldier, having laid down his weapons, sleeps alone. Ancient oxen refuse to pull the plow. A rotting ship rests on an empty beach, and the old war shield lies in the temple: but no amount of years will sway me from your love, whether I’ll be Tithonus or I’ll be Nestor.

Wasn’t it better to serve the cruel tyrant and to rage inside your bull, savage Perillus? It was better to be turned to stone by the Gorgon’s face, or even if we suffered the Caucasian vultures. But still I’ll endure it. The iron sword is destroyed by rust and so is rock by constant dripping water: but nothing she can say or do will destroy my devotion, which lasts and endures threats with undeserving ear. Although despised, it seeks, and though wounded, admits having offended, and comes back by itself on unwilling feet.

And you, who assume airs in the flush of love, fool, no woman is serious for long. Does anyone observe their vows in the midst of a storm, when even in port a shattered hull often floats? Does anyone demand the prize while the race is still unfinished, before he’s brushed the turning-post for the seventh time?

181 mendaces ludunt flatus in amore secundi: si qua uenit sero, magna ruina uenit. tu tamen interea, quamuis te diligat illa, in tacito cohibe gaudia clausa sinu. 30 namque in amore uiro semper sua maxima cuique nescio quo pacto uerba nocere solent. quamuis te persaepe uocet, semel ire memento: inuidiam quod habet, non solet esse diu. at si saecla forent antiquis grata puellis, 35 essem ego quod nunc tu: tempore uincor ego. non tamen ista meos mutabunt saecula mores: unus quisque sua nouerit ire uia. at, uos qui officia in multos reuocatis amores, quantus sic cruciat lumina vestra dolor! 40 vidistis pleno teneram candore puellam, vidistis fuscam, ducit uterque color; vidistis quandam Argiua prodire figura, vidistis nostras, utraque forma rapit; illaque plebeio uel sit sandycis amictu: 45 haec atque illa mali uulneris una uia est. cum satis una tuis insomnia portet ocellis, una sat est cuiuis femina multa mala.

182 BOOK TWO POEM 2.25

Favorable breezes play falsely in love. If it comes later, the fall comes heavily. Besides, although she wants you now, keep your glee hidden in a secret pocket.

For always in love—I know not by what covenant— men are later harmed by their boastful words. Although she calls you several times a day, remember to go just once: just because she causes jealousy, doesn’t mean it’s going to last. If girls today were like those in days of old, I would be what you are now: I am beaten by my time. Still, these times won’t change my ways: each man should know to travel his own path.

And you, who focus your attentions on many loves, how much suffering torments your eyes! You’ve seen a pretty girl with a light complexion, you’ve seen a dark girl: each tone attracts you. You’ve seen one girl out walking with an Argive ﬁgure, you’ve seen some of our girls: both types drive you nuts. She may wear a common cloak or vermilion: this way and that are one path of horrible ruin. Since one woman brings dreams enough to your eyes, one woman is enough for endless pain.

183

II.xxvi a Vidi te in somnis fracta, mea uita, carina Ionio lassas ducere rore manus, et quaecumque in me fueras mentita fateri, nec iam umore grauis tollere posse comas, qualem purpureis agitatam ﬂuctibus Hellen, 5 aurea quam molli tergore uexit ouis. quam timui, ne forte tuum mare nomen haberet, atque tua labens nauita ﬂeret aqua! quae tum ego Neptuno, quae tum cum Castore fratri, quaeque tibi excepi, iam dea, Leucothoe! 10 at tu uix primas extollens gurgite palmas saepe meum nomen iam peritura uocas. quod si forte tuos uidisset Glaucus occellos, esses Ionii facta puella maris, et tibi ob inuidiam Nereides increpitarent, 15 candida Nesaee, caerula Cymothoe. sed tibi subsidio delphinum currere uidi, qui, puto, Arioniam uexerat ante lyram. iamque ego conabar summo me mittere saxo, cum mihi discussit talia uisa metus. 20

184 BOOK TWO POEM 2.26A

2.26 A I saw you in a dream, my love, in a shipwreck, swimming, exhausted, in the Ionian wet, and you admitted whatever lies you’d told me, already unable to lift your hair, heavy with water, just like Helle tossed on purple waves, whom a golden sheep carried on its soft back. How I feared the sea would suddenly take your name, and my ship would mourn, slipping through your waters!

What vows I made then to Neptune, to Castor and his brother, and to you, Leucothoë, now become a goddess! But you, scarcely able to lift your palms above the swirl, call my name repeatedly as you begin to fail. If Glaucus had happened to see your eyes, you would have been made an Ionian sea-nymph, and the Nereids would chide you jealously, shining Nesaeë, sky-blue Cymothoë.

But I saw a dolphin rushing to your aid, which, I believe, had once borne the Arionian lyre. I was already working up the nerve to jump from a high rock, when my fear dispersed these visions.

185

II.xxvi b Nunc admirentur quod tam mihi pulchra puella seruiat et tota dicar in urbe potens! non, si Cambysae redeant et ﬂumina Croesi, dicat, “De nostro surge, poeta, toro.” nam mea cum recitat, dicit se odisse beatos: 25 carmina tam sancte nulla puella colit. multum in amore ﬁdes, multum constantia prodest: qui dare multa potest, multa et amare potest.

186 BOOK TWO POEM 2.26B

2.26 B Now let them stare in wonder that such a beautiful girl should serve me and I’m known all over town as The Stud! I hope she never says, “Poet, get out of my bed,” even if the rivers of Cambyses and Croesus should return. When she recites my poems, she declares her hatred for the fat cats: no girl cultivates poetry as respectfully. Faithfulness counts for a lot in love, and so does constancy: whoever can give much can also love far and wide.

187

II.xxvi c Seu mare per longum mea cogitet ire puella, hanc sequar et ﬁdos una aget aura duos. 30 unum litus erit sopitis unaque tecto arbor, et ex una saepe bibemus aqua; et tabula una duos poterit componere amantis, prora cubile mihi seu mihi puppis erit. omnia perpetiar: saeuus licet urgeat Eurus, 35 uelaque in incertum frigidus Auster agat; quicumque et uenti miserum uexastis Vlixem, et Danaum Euboico litore mille ratis; et qui mouistis duo litora, cum ratis Argo dux erat ignoto missa columba mari. 40 illa meis tantum non umquam desit ocellis, incendat nauem Iuppiter ipse licet. certe isdem nudi pariter iactabimur oris: me licet unda ferat, te modo terra tegat. sed non Neptunus tanto crudelis amori, 45 Neptunus fratri par in amore Ioui: testis Amymone, latices dum ferret, in aruis compressa, et Lernae pulsa tridente palus; iam deus amplexu uotum persoluit, at illi aurea diuinas urna profudit aquas. 50 crudelem et Borean rapta Orithyia negauit: hic deus et terras et maria alta domat. crede mihi, nobis mitescet Scylla, nec umquam alternante uacans uasta Charybdis aqua;

188 BOOK TWO POEM 2.26C

2.26 C Or if my girl’s thinking of traveling the open sea, I’ll follow her, and one breeze will push us both, and our love. One shore and one tree will be our bedroom while we sleep, and we’ll drink as much as we want from the same stream. A single plank will be enough to hold two lovers, whether my bed be in the prow or stern. All will I endure: let the savage Eurus rage, let the frigid Auster push the sails we know not where and you winds who hounded poor Ulysses and the thousand ships of the Danaans on Euboea’s coast and you who moved two shores, when the Argo’s guide was a dove sent over an unknown sea.

May she never leave my sight for one second, even if Jupiter himself decides to torch our ship. Then, certainly, we’ll be tossed, nude, onto the same shore: let the wave bear me off, as long as the earth covers you. Neptune won’t be cruel in the face of a love so strong, Neptune who is equal to his brother Jove in love: witness Amymone, who, while she was carrying her buckets, was pinned in the ﬁelds, and his trident pulsed at the fen in Lerna; already the god fulﬁlls the vow, embracing her, and her golden urn pours forth divine waters. Even after being raped, Orithyia denied Boreas was really mean: this god controls nations and the high seas. Believe me, even Scylla will melt before us, and Charybdis, who never ceases her vast whirlpools and eddies.

189

ispaque sidera erunt nullis obscura tenebris, 55 purus et Orion, purus et Haedus erit. quod mihi si ponenda tuo sit corpore uita, exitus hic nobis non inhonestus erit.

190 BOOK TWO POEM 2.26C

No shadows will obscure the stars; Orion will be clear and clear Haedus. And if I should die in your arms, it won’t be a disgraceful way to go.

191

II.xxvii At uos incertam, mortales, funeris horam quaeritis, et qua sit mors aditura uia? quaeritis et caelo Phoenicum inuenta sereno, quae sit stella homini commoda quaeque mala? seu pedibus Parthos sequimur seu classe Britannos, 5 et maris et terrae caeca pericla uiae; rursus et obiectum flemus caput esse tumultu, cum Mauors dubias miscet utrimque manus; praeterea domibus flammam domibusque ruinas, neu subeant labris pocula nigra tuis. 10 solus amans nouit, quando periturus et a qua morte, neque hic Boreae flabra neque arma timet. iam licet et Stygia sedeat sub harundine remex, cernat et infernae tristia uela ratis: si modo clamantis reuocauerit aura puellae, 15 concessum nulla lege redibit iter.

192 BOOK TWO POEM 2.27

2.27 Do you mortals seek to know death’s unﬁxed hour and by what path the end may arrive? On a clear night, do you study Phoenician science, as to which star may be favorable and which destructive? Whether we pursue Parthians on foot or Britons by boat, on sea and on land, the way holds hidden perils. Our head again tossed into the tumult, we moan, when Mavors jumbles both camps’ uncertain hands, and what’s more, the ﬂame and ruin to our homes, we moan, lest the black cups approach our lips.

Only the lover knows when he will die and from what cause, and he fears neither Boreas’ blasts nor war. Though the oarsman already sits in the Stygian reeds, and he sees the gloomy sails of the infernal bark: if only the whisper of his girlfriend calling would summon him, he would make the journey back, obedient to no law.

193

II.xxviii a Iuppiter, affectae tandem miserere puellae: tam formosa tuum mortua crimen erit. 2 hoc tibi uel poterit coniunx ignoscere Iuno: 33 frangitur et Iuno, si qua puella perit. 34 uenit enim tempus, quo torridus aestuat aer, 3 incipit et sicco feruere terra Cane. sed non tam ardoris culpa est neque crimina caeli, 5 quam totiens sanctos non habuisse deos. hoc perdit miseras, hoc perdidit ante puellas: quidquid iurarunt, uentus et unda rapit. num sibi collatam doluit Venus? illa peraeque prae se formosis inuidiosa dea est. 10 an contempta tibi Iunonis templa Pelasgae? Palladis aut oculos ausa negare bonos? semper, formosae, non nostis parcere uerbis. hoc tibi lingua nocens, hoc tibi forma dedit. sed tibi uexatae per multa pericula uitae 15 extremo ueniet mollior hora die.

Io uersa caput primos mugiuerat annos: nunc dea, quae Nili ﬂumina uacca bibit. Ino etiam prima terris aetate uagata est: hanc miser implorat nauita Leucothoen. 20 Andromede monstris fuerat deuota marinis: haec eadem Persei nobilis uxor erat. Callisto Arcadios errauerat ursa per agros: haec nocturna suo sidere uela regit.

194 BOOK TWO POEM 2.28A

2.28 A Jupiter, have pity on this afﬂicted girl: the death of one so beautiful will be your crime. Your wife Juno will look the other way: even Juno is moved if a girl is dying.

The season is coming when the torrid air sizzles, and the earth begins to burn with the parching Dog Star. But it is not the fault of the heat nor a crime of weather as much as her frequent disrespect of the gods’ sanctity. This destroys girls, this has destroyed many in the past. Whatever they swear wind and wave sweep away.

Didn’t Venus hate being compared to her? That goddess is extremely jealous of girls more beautiful than she. What about the dishonored temples of your Pelasgian Juno? Or did you dare deny Pallas Athena’s noble eyes? Always, beauties, you were unable to check your tongues. A big mouth and beauty brought you to this. But since your life was vexed with many dangers, an easier time will come at the end of the day.

Io, her head transformed, mooed out her early years: a goddess now, that cow who drinks the Nile’s waters. Even Ino wandered the earth in her youth: the miserable sailor invokes her as Leucothoë. Andromeda had been pledged to sea monsters: this same woman was noble Perseus’ wife. Callisto roamed the Arcadian countryside, a bear: she guides nocturnal sails by her star.

195

quod si forte tibi properarint Fata quietem, 25 illa sepulturae Fata beata tuae. narrabis Semelae, quo sit formosa periclo, credet et illa, suo docta puella malo; et tibi Maeonias omnis heroidas inter primus erit nulla non tribuente locus. 30 nunc, utcumque potes, fato gere saucia morem: et deus et durus uertitur ipse dies.

196 BOOK TWO POEM 2.28A

If the Fates have moved up your final rest, those Fates are beneficent toward your burial. You’ll tell Semele the dangers that await the beautiful, and she will understand, a girl educated by misfortune. And to you, among all the Maeonian heroines, will go first place, since you paid no small price. Now, although you suffer, bear with your fate, however you can: both god and this hard day are changed.

197

II.xxviii b Deﬁciunt magico torti sub carmine rhombi, 35 et iacet exstincto laurus adusta foco; et iam Luna negat totiens descendere caelo, nigraque funestum concinit omen auis. una ratis fati nostros portabit amores caerula ad infernos ueliﬁcata lacus. 40 si non unius, quaeso, miserere duorum! uiuam, si uiuet; si cadet illa, cadam. pro quibus optatis sacro me carmine damno: scribam ego, “Per magnum est salua puella Iouem.” ante tuosque pedes illa ipsa operata sedebit, 45 narrabitque sedens longa pericla sua.

198 BOOK TWO POEM 2.28B

2.28 B The twisted rhombuses and their magic incantation have failed. The laurel lies burnt in the extinguished hearth. Luna has already refused many times to descend from the sky, and the black bird shrieks a deadly omen. One dark raft of death will carry off our loves, setting sail for the infernal lakes.

If not for one, I beg you, have pity on two souls! I’ll live, if she lives; if she falls, I’ll fall. To this end, I bind myself with a holy poem: I will write, “By great Jove was the girl saved.” For her part, she’ll sit at your feet, a worshiper herself, and sitting there she’ll narrate her long sufferings.

199

II.xxviii c haec tua, Persephone, maneat clementia, nec tu, Persephonae coniunx, saeuior esse uelis. sunt apud infernos tot milia formosarum: pulchra sit in superis, si licet, una locis! 50 uobiscum Antiope, uobiscum candida Tyro, uobiscum Europe nec proba Pasiphae, et quot Troia tulit uetus et quot Achaia formas, et Thebae et Priami diruta regna senis: et quaecumque erat in numero Romana puella, 55 occidit: has omnis ignis auarus habet. nec forma aeternum aut cuiquam est fortuna perennis: longius aut proprius mors sua quemque manet. tu quoniam es, mea lux, magno dimissa periclo, munera Dianae debita redde choros, 60 redde etiam excubias diuae nunc, ante iuuencae; uotiuas noctes, ei mihi, solue decem!

200 BOOK TWO POEM 2.28C

2.28 C Maintain your clemency, Persephone, and you, husband of Persephone, don’t decide to throw a ﬁt. There are in hell so many thousands of beauties: let one pretty girl, if it’s okay, remain up here! With you is Antiope, with you dazzling Tyro, with you Europë and wild Pasiphaë, all the beauties ancient Troy and Achaia bore and Thebes and the vanquished kingdom of old Priam: and whatever Roman girl was considered comparable, dies: all these the avaricious ﬂame possesses.

Neither beauty nor fortune is permanent: death waits for everyone sooner or later.

Now, my love, since you are free from great danger, make the required offerings and dances to Diana. Make also vigils to the goddess who was once a heifer, and for the love of god, pay your debt to me with ten votive nights!

201

II.xxix a Hesterna, mea lux, cum potus nocte uagarer, nec me seruorum duceret ulla manus, obuia nescio quot pueri mihi turba minuta uenerat (hos uetuit me numerare timor); quorum alii faculas, alii retinere sagittas, 5 pars etiam uisa est uincla parare mihi. sed nudi fuerant. quorum lasciuior unus, “Arripite hunc,” inquit, “iam bene nostis eum. hic erat, hunc mulier nobis irata locauit.” dixit, et in collo iam mihi nodus erat. 10 hic alter iubet in medium propellere, at alter, “Intereat, qui nos non putat esse deos! haec te non meritum totas exspectat in horas: at tu nescio quas quaeris, inepte, fores. quae cum Sidoniae nocturna ligamina mitrae 15 soluerit atque oculos mouerit illa grauis, afﬂabunt tibi non Arabum de gramine odores, sed quos ipse suis fecit Amor manibus. parcite iam, fratres, iam certos spondet amores; et iam ad mandatam uenimus ecce domum.” 20 atque ita mi iniecto dixerunt rursus amictu: “I nunc et noctes disce manere domi.”

202 BOOK TWO POEM 2.29A

2.29 A Babe, last night, as I was wandering around drunk, with no group of servants to guide me, a band of little boys, I don’t know how many, suddenly appeared in my way (fear prevented my counting them). Some were holding torches, others arrows; still another group seemed to be preparing chains for me. But they were nude. A certain particularly lewd one said, “Grab him! He’s the guy! He’s the one the angry lady put a contract out on.” He spoke, and a rope was already tied around my neck. One shouts out to push me in front of them, another, “Let him die, who doesn’t believe we’re gods! She waits for you, who don’t deserve her, hours on end: but you, you clod, go after any old broad. When she’s untied the Sidonian turban she wears at night and begins to open her heavy eyes, scents of Arabian herbs will not blow across you but rather those which Love himself has made with his hands. Let him go, brothers. Already he swears to be faithful, and already, look, we’ve arrived at the designated house.” And then, throwing my cloak at me, they said again, “Go now, and learn to stay home at night.”

203

II.xxix b Mane erat, et uolui, si sola quiesceret illa, uisere: at in lecto Cynthia sola fuit. obstipui: non illa mihi formosior umquam 25 uisa, neque ostrina cum fuit in tunica, ibat et hinc castae narratum somnia Vestae, neu sibi neue mihi quae nocitura forent: talis uisa mihi somno dimissa recenti. heu quantum per se candida forma ualet! 30 “Quid tu matutinus,” ait, “speculator amicae? me similem uestris moribus esse putas? non ego tam facilis: sat erit mihi cognitus unus, uel tu uel si quis uerior esse potest. apparent non ulla toro uestigia presso, 35 signa uolutantis nec iacuisse duos. aspice ut in toto nullus mihi corpore surgat spiritus admisso notus adulterio.” dixit, et opposita propellens sauia dextra prosilit in laxa nixa pedem solea. 40 sic ego tam sancti custos deludor amoris: ex illo felix nox mihi nulla fuit.

204 BOOK TWO POEM 2.29B

2.29 B It was early morning, and I wanted to observe whether she was sleeping alone: but Cynthia was alone in bed. I was stunned: never had she appeared more beautiful to me, not even when, dressed in her purple tunic, she was on her way to tell her dream to chaste Vesta, lest any harm should come to her or me: that’s how she looked as she abandoned a more recent dream. Alas, how much brilliant beauty is worth on its own! “What!” she says, “Are you some kind of early morning girlfriend spy? Do you think I share your sense of humor? I’m not so easy: to know one man will be enough for me, either you or maybe someone truer than you. There are no traces of pressure on the couch, no signs that two have lain, tumbling about. Look how, in my whole body, no scent rises, no obvious proof of adultery.” She speaks, and showering me with happy kisses, she jumps up and disappears in ﬂoppy sandals. And so I’m made a fool of—guardian of a perfect love: from that moment on, I haven’t had a happy night.

205

II.xxx a Quo fugis a demens? nulla est fuga: tu licet usque ad Tanain fugias, usque sequetur Amor. non si Pegaseo uecteris in aere dorso, nec tibi si Persei mouerit ala pedes; uel si te sectae rapiant talaribus aurae, 5 nil tibi Mercurii proderit alta uia. instat semper Amor supra caput, instat amanti, et grauis ipse super libera colla sedet. excubat ille acer custos et tollere numquam te patietur humo lumina capta semel. 10 at, iam si pecces, deus exorabilis ille est, si modo praesentis uiderit esse preces.

206 BOOK TWO POEM 2.30A

2.30 A Where do you think you’re going? There’s no escape: you can run to the Tanais—Love follows all the way. Not if you ride in the air on a Pegasean back, not if Perseus’ wings propel your feet, not if breezes cut by winged sandals take you— Mercury’s high path would do you no good.

Always Love stands over the lover’s head, and he sits heavily on free necks. This sharp guard keeps watch and never lets you lift your eyes, once captured, from the earth. But even though you may sin, he is a forgiving god, if only he has seen some evidence of prayer.

207

II.xxx b Ista senes licet accusent conuiuia duri: nos modo propositum, uita, teramus iter. illorum antiquis onerantur legibus aures: 15 hic locus est in quo, tibia docta, sones, quae non iure uado Maeandri iacta natasti, turpia cum faceret Palladis ora tumor. num tamen immerito Phrygias nunc ire per undas et petere Hyrcani litora nolo maris, 20 spargere et alterna communis caede Penatis et ferre ad patrios praemia dira Lares? una contentum pudeat me uiuere amica? hoc si crimen erit, crimen Amoris erit: mi nemo obiciat. libeat tibi, Cynthia, mecum 25 rorida muscosis antra tenere iugis. illic aspicies scopulis haerere Sorores et canere antiqui dulcia furta Iouis, ut Semela est combustus, ut est deperditus Io, denique ut ad Troiae tecta uolarit auis. 30 quod si nemo exstat qui uicerit Alitis arma, communis culpae cur reus unus agor? nec tu Virginibus reuerentia moueris ora: hic quoque non nescit quid sit amare chorus; si tamen Oeagri quaedam compressa ﬁgura 35 Bistoniis olim rupibus accubuit. hic ubi te prima statuent in parte choreae, et medius docta cuspide Bacchus erit, tum capiti sacros patiar pendere corymbos: nam sine te nostrum non ualet ingenium. 40

208 BOOK TWO POEM 2.30B

2.30 B Let rigid old men reproach those parties: let’s just keep on the way we’re going, my love. Their ears are ﬁlled with ancient laws: this is the spot in which you sound, skillful ﬂute, who swam in a shoal of the Maeander, cast there unjustly when the swelling of Pallas’ face made it ugly. Am I not right then to refuse to pass through Phrygian waters in search of the shores of the Hyrcanian sea, to scatter shared Penates with slaughter on both sides and to bring gruesome prizes back to our native Lares?

Can it be wrong to live for one woman, contented? If this is a crime, then it’s a crime of Love: no one can object. Let it please you, Cynthia, to stay with me in moist caves on mossy ridges. From there, you’ll see the Sisters clinging to the cliffs and singing the sweet trysts of ancient Jove, how he was consumed by Semele, wrecked by Io, and then how he ﬂew as a bird to the roofs of Troy. But if no one exists who has bested the Winged One’s weapons, why am I alone prosecuted, the only defendant of our common guilt?

Nor will you change the Virgins’ reverent countenances: this chorus too knows what it is to love, if indeed a certain beauty was once debauched by Oeagrus and lay with him on the Bistonian rocks. Here, when the dances will position you in front, and Bacchus will be in the center with his skillful shaft, then I’ll let the sacred ivy clusters hang from my brow: for without you, my genius is worth nothing.

209

II.xxxi Quaeris, cur ueniam tibi tardior? aurea Phoebi porticus a magno Caesare aperta fuit. tantam erat in speciem Poenis digesta columnis, inter quas Danai femina turba senis. hic equidem Phoebo uisus mihi pulchrior ipso 5 marmoreus tacita carmen hiare lyra; atque aram circum steterant armenta Myronis, quattuor artiﬁcis, uiuida signa, boues. tum medium claro surgebat marmore templum, et patria Phoebo carius Ortygia: 10 in quo Solis erat supra fastigia currus, et ualuae, Libyci nobile dentis opus; altera deiectos Parnasi uertice Gallos, altera maerebat funera Tantalidos. deinde inter matrem deus ipse interque sororem 15 Pythius in longa carmina ueste sonat.

210 BOOK TWO POEM 2.31

2.31 You ask why I’ll come late to you? Phoebus’ golden portico was opened by mighty Caesar: a magniﬁcent prospect of Punic columns and between them the female throng of old Danaus. Here, a marble Phoebus pouring forth a song on silent lyre seemed to me even more beautiful than the god himself. Around the altar stood cattle by the artist Myron, vivid sculptures of four oxen. A temple of shining marble rose in the middle, even dearer to Phoebus than his native Ortygia: the chariot of the Sun above its pediment, the doors, a noble work of Libyan tusk: one had the Gauls cast down from Parnassus’ peak, the other mourned the Tantalid’s funerals. Then, between his mother and sister, the god himself: Pythius in a long robe sounds the songs.

211

II.xxxii Nam quid Praenesti dubias, o Cynthia, sortis, 3 quid petis Aeaei moenia Telegoni? cur ita te Herculeum deportant esseda Tibur? 5 Appia cur totiens te uia Lanuuium? hoc utinam spatiere loco, quodcumque uacabis, Cynthia! sed tibi me credere turba uetat, cum uidet accensis deuotam currere taedis in nemus et Triuiae lumina ferre deae: 10 qui uidet, is peccat: qui te non uiderit ergo, 1 non cupiet: facti lumina crimen habent. 2 scilicet umbrosis sordet Pompeia columnis 11 porticus, aulaeis nobilis Attalicis, et platanis creber pariter surgentibus ordo, ﬂumina sopito quaeque Marone cadunt, et leuiter nymphis toto crepitantibus orbe 15 cum subito Triton ore recondit aquam. falleris, ista tui furtum uia monstrat amoris: non urbem, demens, lumina nostra fugis! nil agis, insidias in me componis inanis, tendis iners docto retia nota mihi. 20 sed de me minus est: famae iactura pudicae tanta tibi miserae, quanta meretur, erit. nuper enim de te nostras me laedit ad auris rumor, et in tota non bonus urbe fuit.

212 BOOK TWO POEM 2.32

2.32 Why, Cynthia, do you seek out the riddling oracles of Praeneste, why the fortiﬁcations of Aeaean Telegonus? Why do the chariots banish you to Herculean Tibur? Why so often does the Appian Way take you to Lanuvium? I wish you were hanging around here if you have some free time, Cynthia! I can’t trust you when there’s a crowd watching you run with lit torches, a devotee in the grove, bringing lights to the Trivian goddess.

Whoever sees, sins: who has not seen you, ergo, will not desire: the eyes are the guilty party.

Of course, the Pompeian portico, with its shady columns is too ﬁlthy—despite its grand Attalian hangings, the dense arrangement of spreading plane-trees, those streams that pour from a drowsy Maron, and the nymphs murmuring around the entire basin when Triton suddenly lets forth the water from his mouth.

You’re caught! That itinerary reveals your romantic intrigue: it’s not the city, you freak, but my sight that you’re avoiding! It’s no use: your plots against me are futile. You stupidly set a well-known trap for one who is too experienced. But it’s not so bad for me: you, poor thing, will watch your reputation plummet, as you deserve. For recently, rumors about you assault my ears all over the city, and they aren’t good.

213

sed tu non debes inimicae cedere linguae: 25 semper formosis fabula poena fuit. non tua deprenso damnata est fama ueneno: testis eris puras, Phoebe, uidere manus. sin autem longo nox una aut altera lusu consumpta est, non me crimina parua mouent. 30

Tyndaris externo patriam mutauit amore, et sine decreto uiua reducta domum est. ipsa Venus fertur corrupta libidine Martis; nec minus in caelo semper honesta fuit. quamuis Ida Parim pastorem dicat amasse 35 atque inter pecudes accubuisse deam, hoc et Hamadryadum spectauit turba sororum Silenique senes et pater ipse chori; cum quibus Idaeo legisti poma sub antro, supposita excipiens, Nai, caduca manu. 40 an quisquam in tanto stuprorum examine quaerit, “Cur haec tam diues? quis dedit? unde dedit?” o nimium nostro felicem tempore Romam, si contra mores una puella facit! haec eadem ante illam iam impune et Lesbia fecit: 45 quae sequitur, certe est inuidiosa minus. qui quaerit Tatios ueteres durosque Sabinos, hic posuit nostra nuper in urbe pedem. tu prius et ﬂuctus poteris siccare marinos, altaque mortalie deligere astra manu, 50

214 BOOK TWO POEM 2.32

But you shouldn’t yield to an unfriendly tongue: a bad rap was always the punishment for beautiful girls. Your reputation was not damned by the discovery of poison: you will testify, Phoebus, that you see clean hands. Anyway, if one or two nights were consumed in long screws, small crimes don’t bother me.

The Tyndarid changed countries for a foreign lover and was brought home alive without charges. They say Venus herself was seduced by lust for Mars; yet in heaven she was accorded no less respect. Although, as Ida says, Paris, while a shepherd, loved a goddess and slept with her amid his animals, the group of her Hamadryad sisters accepted this, as did the old Sileni and the father of the chorus himself, with whom you picked apples in the Idaean valley, Naia, picking up the fallen ones with outstretched hand.

Who amid so much fornication bothers to ask, “Why such wealth? Who gave it? Where’d they get it?” O Rome so happy in our time if only one girl acts immorally! Lesbia has already done it before her with impunity: whoever follows is certainly less hateful. Whoever’s looking for old Tatiuses and stern Sabines has stepped foot only recently in our city.

You could more easily dry up the sea’s waves and pluck lofty stars with mortal hand

215 quam facere, ut nostrae nolint peccare puellae: hic mos Saturno regna tenente fuit; at cum Deucalionis aquae ﬂuxere per orbem, et post antiquas Deucalionis aquas, dic mihi, quis potuit lectum seruare pudicum, 55 quae dea cum solo uiuere sola deo? uxorem quondam magni Minois, ut aiunt, corrupit torui candida forma bouis; nec minus aerato Danae circumdata muro non potuit magno casta negare Ioui. 60 quod si tu Graias es tuque imitata Latinas, semper uiue meo libera iudicio!

216 BOOK TWO POEM 2.32 than force our girls to abjure decadence: when Saturn was holding sway, this was the custom, but when Deucalion’s waters flooded the earth, and after the ancient waters of Deucalion, tell me, who was able to keep his bed pure? Which goddess lived alone with a single god? Once, they say, the magnificent beauty of a fierce bull corrupted the wife of great Minos. Not even Danaë, surround by a bronze wall, was able to remain chaste and deny great Jove. So if you decide to imitate the Greek and Latin heroines, you’ll be acquitted in my judgment!

217

II.xxxiii a Tristia iam redeunt iterum sollemnia nobis: Cynthia iam noctes est operata decem. atque utinam pereant, Nilo quae sacra tepente misit matronis Inachis Ausoniis! quae dea tam cupidos totiens diuisit amantis, 5 quaecumque illa fuit, semper amara fuit. tu certe Iouis occultis in amoribus, Io, sensisti multas quid sit inire uias, cum te iussit habere puellam cornua Iuno et pecoris duro perdere uerba sono. 10 a quotiens quernis laesisti frondibus ora, mandisti et stabulis arbuta pasta tuis! an, quoniam agrestem detraxit ab ore ﬁguram Iuppiter, idcirco facta superba dea es? an tibi non satis est fuscis Aegyptus alumnis? 15 cur tibi tam longa Roma petita uia? quidue tibi prodest uiduas dormire puellas? sed tibi, crede mihi, cornua rursus erunt, aut nos e nostra te, saeua, fugabimus urbe: cum Tiberi Nilo gratia nulla fuit. 20 at tu, quae nostro nimium placata dolore es, noctibus his uacui, ter faciamus iter.

218 BOOK TWO POEM 2.33A

2.33 A Already the dreary ritual returns: already Cynthia has begun ten nights’ worship. They can go to hell, those rites the Inachid sent from the tepid Nile to Ausonian matrons! The goddess who has so often divided panting lovers, whoever she was, was always bitter. You above all, Io, in your secret sessions with Jove, knew what it was like to travel many paths, when Juno made you, a little girl, wear horns and trade your speech for the crude mooing of a cow. Your mouth got so sore from the oak leaves, and you chewed arbutus cud in the stables! Just because Jupiter has removed that rustic look from your face, are you become a haughty goddess? Isn’t Egypt with its dark foundlings enough for you? Why have you chosen the long journey to Rome? What does it proﬁt you if unmarried girls should sleep? But, believe me, your horns will come back, or else we’ll drive you, o cruel one, from our city: since there is no grace from the Nile to the Tiber.

But you, who have remained overly calm in my suffering: when we’re free of these nights, let’s do it three times in a row!

219

II.xxxiii b Non audis et uerba sinis mea ludere, cum iam ﬂectant Icarii sidera tarda boues. lenta bibis: mediae nequeunt te frangere noctes. 25 an nondum est talos mittere lassa manus? a pereat, quicumque meracas repperit uuas corrupitque bonas nectare primus aquas!

Icare, Cecropiis merito iugulate colonis, pampineus nosti quam sit amarus odor! 30 tuque o Eurytion uino Centaure peristi, nec non Ismario tu, Polypheme, mero. uino forma perit, uino corrumpitur aetas, uino saepe suum nescit amica uirum. me miserum, ut multo nihil est mutata Lyaeo! 35

iam bibe: formosa es: nil tibi uina nocent. cum tua praependent demissae in pocula sertae, et mea deducta carmina uoce legis, largius effuso madeat tibi mensa Falerno: spumet et aurato mollius in calice. 40 semper in absentis felicior aestus amantis: 43 eleuat assiduos copia longa uiros. 44 nulla tamen lecto recipit se sola libenter: 41 est quiddam, quod uos quaerere cogat Amor. 42

220 BOOK TWO POEM 2.33B

2.33 B You don’t listen, you let my words dance away, while the Icarian oxen already turn their slow stars. Languid, you drink: midnight can’t break you. Isn’t your hand tired yet from casting dice? God damn whoever discovered unmixed grapes and ﬁrst polluted good waters with nectar!

Icarus, rightly executed by Cecropian colonists, you knew how the scent of the vine is bitter! And you perished from wine, o Centaur Eurytion, and Polyphemus, you too, from Ismarian pure. Beauty perishes in wine, youth is wasted. In wine, a girl often can’t recognize her own man. Poor me: all that Lyaeus has no effect on her!

Okay, drink. You’re beautiful, wine can’t harm you. While your wreaths hang, fallen into your cup, and you read my poems in an exaggerated voice, let your table be drenched in the gush of Falernian: let it foam sweetly in the golden chalice.

A lover’s passion is always stronger in absence: a big supply diminishes even great strength. But at least no footsteps traipse freely to bed: there is something Love forces you to seek.

221

II.xxxiv Cur quisquam faciem dominae iam credat Amori? sic erepta mihi paene puella mea est. expertus dico, nemo est in amore ﬁdelis: formosam raro non sibi quisque petit. polluit ille deus cognatos, soluit amicos, 5 et bene concordis tristia ad arma uocat. hospes in hospitium Menelao uenit adulter: Colchis et ignotum nonne secuta uirum est?

Lynceu, tune meam potuisti, perﬁde, curam tangere? nonne tuae tum cecidere manus? 10 quid si non constans illa et tam certa fuisset? posses in tanto uiuere ﬂagitio? tu mihi uel ferro pectus uel perde ueneno: a domina tantum te modo tolle mea. te socium uitae, te corporis esse licebit, 15 te dominum admitto rebus, amice, meis: lecto te solum, lecto te deprecor uno: riualem possum non ego ferre Iouem. ipse meas solus, quod nil est, aemulor umbras, stultus, quod stulto saepe timore tremo. 20 una tamen causa est, qua crimina tanta remitto, errabant multo quod tua uerba mero. sed numquam uitae fallet me ruga seuerae: omnes iam norunt quam sit amare bonum.

Lynceus ipse meus seros insanit amores! 25 solum te nostros laetor adire deos.

222 BOOK TWO POEM 2.34

2.34 Why would anyone entrust their mistress’ beauty to Love? That’s how my girl was almost snatched from me. I speak as an expert: none in love is faithful: everyone wants every beauty for himself.

That god pollutes families, dissolves friendships, drives allies to the tragedy of weapons. The guest came to Menelaus’ hospitality an adulterer: didn’t the Colchian pursue a foreigner?

Lynceus, you bastard, could you touch my love? Didn’t your hands then drop? What if she hadn’t been constant and resolute? Could you live with such guilt? You can stab me in the chest or poison me: just keep your hands off my girl. You can be a partner in my life, in my body. I admit you, friend, as lord of my affairs: in bed alone, in bed I pray you: I can’t bear to have a rival Jove. I myself am jealous of my own shadow, which is nothing: an idiot, since I often tremble in idiotic fear. Anyway, there is an explanation, so I pardon your crime: you were wasted and talking a lot of trash. Never do the wrinkles of a stern life deceive me: everyone already knows how great love would be.

Lynceus himself is insane from my latest lusts! I snicker at the thought of your going naked before my gods.

223 quid tua Socraticis tibi nunc sapientia libris proderit aut rerum dicere posse uias? aut quid Aratei tibi prosunt carmina lecti? nil iuuat in magno uester amore senex. 30 tu satius memorem Musis imitere Philitan et non inﬂati somnia Callimachi. non rursus licet Aetoli referas Acheloi, ﬂuxerit ut magno fractus ab ore liquor, atque etiam ut Phrygio fallax Maeandria campo 35 errat et ipsa suas decipit unda uias, qualis et Adrasti fuerit uocalis Arion, tristia ad Archemori funera uictor equus. non Amphiareae prosint tibi fata quadrigae aut Capanei magno grata ruina Ioui. 40 desine et Aeschyleo componere uerba coturno, desine, et ad mollis membra resolue choros. incipe iam angusto uersus includere torno, inque tuos ignis, dure poeta, ueni. tu non Antimacho, non tutior ibis Homero: 45 despicit et magnos recta puella deos. sed non ante graui taurus succumbit aratro, cornua quam ualidis haeserit in laqueis, nec tu tam duros per te patieris amores: trux tamen a nobis ante domandus eris. 50 harum nulla solet rationem quaerere mundi, nec cur fraternis Luna laboret equis, nec si post Stygias aliquid restabimus undas, nec si consulto fulmina missa tonent.

224 BOOK TWO POEM 2.34

What good now is your knowledge of the Socratic books, or to be able to discuss the paths of particles? What good are the poems of Aratus’ couch? Your old man ain’t worth nothing when love throbs! You should rather imitate learned Philitas and the dream of subtle Callimachus. You should write no more of the Aetolian Acheloüs, how its water divided as it flowed from its great mouth, nor of how the deceptive Maeandrian wave roams the Phrygian plain in circuitous paths, nor of Adrastus’ amazing speaking horse, Arion, who won the sad race at Archemorus’ funeral: the fate of Amphiaraus’ chariot can do you no good, nor can the destruction, pleasing to Jove, of Capaneus. Forget about composing for the Aeschylean buskin, forget it, relax your limbs in soft choruses. Begin confining your verses to a narrow lathe, and enter your flames, serious poet. You will not be safer with Antimachus, nor with Homer: a sexy girl despises grand gods.

But, just as the bull won’t submit to the heavy yoke before his horn is caught in a sturdy harness, so you will not survive rough passions on your own: though savage, still you will be tamed, with my assistance.

No girl cares about the explanation of the universe or why Luna struggles with her brother’s horses or if anything remains of us beyond the Stygian waves or if the thunder, when it roars, is sent on purpose.

225

aspice me, cui parua domi fortuna relicta est 55 nullus et antiquo Marte triumphus aui, ut regnem mixtas inter conuiua puellas hoc ego, quo tibi nunc eleuor, ingenio! me iuuet hesternis positum languere corollis, quem tetigit iactu certus ad ossa deus; 60

Actia Vergilium custodis litora Phoebi, Caesaris et fortis dicere posse ratis, qui nunc Aeneae Troiani suscitat arma iactaque Lauinis moenia litoribus. cedite Romani scriptores, cedite Grai! 65 nescio quid maius nascitur Iliade. tu canis umbrosi subter pineta Galaesi Thyrsin et attritis Daphnin harundinibus, utque decem possint corrumpere mala puellas missus et impressis haedus ab uberibus. 70 felix, qui uilis pomis mercaris amores! huic licet ingratae Tityrus ipse canat. felix intactum Corydon qui temptat Alexin agricolae domini carpere delicias! quamuis ille sua lassus requiescat auena, 75 laudatur facilis inter Hamadryadas. tu canis Ascraei ueteris praecepta poetae, quo seges in campo, quo uiret uua iugo. tale facis carmen docta testudine quale Cynthius impositis temperat articulis. 80 non tamen haec ulli uenient ingrata legenti, siue in amore rudis siue peritus erit.

226 BOOK TWO POEM 2.34

Look at me, to whom scant fortune was left at home and no ancestor’s triumph in ancient war, how I rule the girls in mixed company by this genius, which now you ridicule! Let it be my lot to be languid, draped in yesterday’s garlands. The unerring god has touched me to the bone with his thrust.

Vergil can write of the Actian shores of Phoebus the Protector and Caesar’s mighty fleet, who now stirs the weapons of Trojan Aeneas and fortifications built on Lavinian shores. Make way, Roman writers! Greeks, make way! Something greater than the Iliad is being born. You sing under the pines of the shady Galaesus of Thyrsis and Daphnis with worn-out pipes, how ten apples can corrupt girls, and the gift of a kid, still suckling at the teats. Lucky you, who trade cheap affairs for fruit! To this ungrateful girl let even Tityrus sing. Lucky Corydon who tries to pluck untouched Alexis, pride of his farmer master! Although he rests from his pipe, exhausted, he is praised by the easy Hamadryads. You sing what you’ve learned from the ancient Ascraean poet: in which field flourishes the crop, on which ridge the grape. With skillful lyre, you make such a song as Cynthius measures when he applies his fingers.

But this won’t be unwelcome to any reader, whether he be green or seasoned in love.

227 nec minor hic animis, ut sit minor ore, canorus anseris indocto carmine cessit olor. haec quoque perfecto ludebat Iasone Varro, 85 Varro Leucadiae maxima ﬂamma suae; haec quoque lasciui cantarunt scripta Catulli, Lesbia quis ipsa notior est Helena; haec etiam docti confessa est pagina Calui, cum caneret miserae funera Quintiliae. 90 et modo formosa quam multa Lycoride Gallus mortuus inferna uulnera lauit aqua! Cynthia quin etiam uersu laudata Properti, hos inter si me ponere Fama uolet.

228 BOOK TWO POEM 2.34

The melodious swan comes off no worse in spirit, though maybe lower in volume, than the unskilled song of the gander. Varro also had fun with this when he’d ﬁnished his “Jason,” Varro at the height of his passion for Leucadia. The writings of lascivious Catullus also sang this and made Lesbia more famous than Helen herself. Even the page of skillful Calvus admitted this, when he sang of the death of poor Quintilia. And Gallus, recently dead, washes in the infernal water the many wounds inﬂicted by his love for beautiful Lycoris! Why not also Cynthia, praised in Propertius’ verse— if Fame will want to include me with the others?

229

BOOK THREE

Where the sea plays, enclosed by shady Avernus, smoky pools of Baiae’s tepid water . . .

III.i Callimachi Manes et Coi sacra Philitae, in uestrum, quaeso, me sinite ire nemus. primus ego ingredior puro de fonte sacerdos Itala per Graios orgia ferre choros. dicite, quo pariter carmen tenuastis in antro? 5 quoue pede ingressi? quamue bibistis aquam? a ualeat, Phoebum quicumque moratur in armis! exactus tenui pumice uersus eat, quo me Fama leuat terra sublimis, et a me nata coronatis Musa triumphat equis, 10 et mecum in curru parui uectantur Amores, scriptorumque meas turba secuta rotas. quid frustra missis in me certatis habenis? non datur ad Musas currere lata uia. multi, Roma, tuas laudes annalibus addent, 15 qui finem imperii Bactra futura canent. sed, quod pace legas, opus hoc de monte Sororum detulit intacta pagina nostra uia. mollia, Pegasides, date uestro serta poetae: non faciet capiti dura corona meo. 20 at mihi quod uiuo detraxerit inuida turba, post obitum duplici faenore reddet Honos; omnia post obitum fingit maiora uestustas: maius ab exsequiis nomen in ora uenit. nam quis equo pulsas abiegno nosceret arces, 25 fluminaque Haemonio comminus isse uiro,

232 BOOK THREE POEM 3.1

3.1 Soul of Callimachus and rites of Coan Philitas, into your grove, I beseech you, allow me to enter. A priest at your pure font, I am the ﬁrst to come bringing Italian rituals through Greek music. Tell me, in which cave did you polish your song together? With which foot did you begin? What water did you drink?

Good luck to whoever delays Phoebus with war stories! Let the verse be ﬁnished with light pumice by which sublime Fame lifts me from the earth, and the Muse born of me triumphs on crowned horses. Loves accompany me in my slight chariot, and a mob of scribblers follows my wheels. Why do you snap the reins and contend with me in vain? The road is not wide that leads to the Muses.

Many, Rome, will add your praises to the annals: they will sing that Bactra will be the empire’s border. But my page brings down from the Sisters’ mount, by an untraveled path, this work you may read in peace. Pegasides, give soft wreaths to your poet: a hard crown will not do for my head.

After my death, Honor will restore with double interest what the jealous mob robbed from me while I lived. After death, time makes all things greater: a greater name comes to the lips after the funeral. For who would know of the citadels routed by a ﬁr horse, or the rivers that went near the Haemonian hero,

233

Idaeum Simoenta Iouis cum prole Scamandro, Hectora per campos ter maculasse rotas? Deiphobumque Helenumque et Pulydamanta et in armis qualemcumque Parim uix sua nosset humus. 30 exiguo sermone fores nunc, Ilion, et tu Troia bis Oetaei numine capta dei. nec non ille tui casus memorator Homerus posteritate suum crescere sensit opus. meque inter seros laudabit Roma nepotes: 35 illum post cineres auguror ipse diem. ne mea contempto lapis indicet ossa sepulcro prouisum est Lycio uota probante deo.

234 BOOK THREE POEM 3.1

Simois on Ida with Jove’s offspring, Scamander, or the wheels that deﬁled Hector three times in the ﬁelds? Deiphobus, and Helenus, and Polydamas, and whatever he was at arms, Paris, their own land would scarcely know. There’d be scant talk of you now, Ilion, or you, Troia, twice captured by will of the Oetaean god. Even Homer, recounter of your case, has seen his work grow with posterity. Rome will praise me in generations to come: I myself predict that day after my death. The Lycian god has heeded my prayer and guaranteed that a substantial stone shall mark my bones.

235

III.ii Carminis interea nostri redeamus in orbem, gaudeat ut solito tacta puella sono.

Orphea delinisse feras et concita dicunt flumina Threicia sustinuisse lyra; saxa Cithaeronis Thebas agitata per artem 5 sponte sua in muri membra coisse ferunt; quin etiam, Polypheme, fera Galatea sub Aetna ad tua rorantis carmina flexit equos: miremur, nobis et Baccho et Apolline dextro, turba puellarum si mea uerba colit? 10 quod non Taenariis domus est mihi fulta columnis, nec camera auratas inter eburna trabes, nec mea Phaeacas aequant pomaria siluas, non operosa rigat Marcius antra liquor; at Musae comites et carmina cara legenti, 15 nec defessa choris Calliopea meis. fortunata, meo si qua es celebrata libello! carmina erunt formae tot monumenta tuae. nam neque Pyramidum sumptus ad sidera ducti, nec Iouis Elei caelum imitata domus, 20 nec Mausolei diues fortuna sepulcri mortis ab extrema condicione uacant. aut illis flamma aut imber subducet honores, annorum aut ictu, pondere uicta, ruent. at non ingenio quaesitum nomen ab aeuo 25 excidet: ingenio stat sine morte decus.

236 BOOK THREE POEM 3.2

3.2 Let me return, then, to my poetry’s orbit, that a girl may rejoice, touched by the familiar sound.

They say Orpheus charmed wild beasts and checked raging rivers with his Threician lyre. They say the rocks of Theban Cithaeron, stirred by art, joined their bodies of their own free will into a wall. And you know, Polyphemus, how Galatea turned her wet horses under savage Aetna toward your songs. Should I be amazed, with Bacchus and Apollo on my side, if a band of girls hangs on my words?

My house is not supported by Taenarian columns, there’s no ivory vault with goldened beams, my orchards can’t equal the Phaeacian woods, no Marcian stream irrigates artiﬁcial grottoes, but the Muses are friendly to the reader of dear poems, and Calliope is not bored by my dances.

Lucky girl, if you are celebrated in my book! These poems will be so many monuments to your beauty. The wealth of the pyramids shooting toward the stars, the abode of Jove Eleus at Olympus, which imitates heaven, the wealth and fortune of the Mausolean tomb— none is free from the ultimate condition of death. Either ﬁre or ﬂood will carry away their honors, or they will collapse from the blow of years, defeated by weight.

From genius desired fame will not fade with age: in genius deathless glory inheres.

237

III.iii Visus eram molli recubans Heliconis in umbra, Bellerophontei qua ﬂuit umor equi, reges, Alba, tuos et regum facta tuorum, tantum operis, neruis hiscere posse meis; paruaque tam magnis admoram fontibus ora, 5 unde pater sitiens Ennius ante bibit; et cecinit Curios fratres et Horatia pila, regiaque Aemilia uecta tropaea rate, uictricesque moras Fabii pugnamque sinistram Cannensem et uersos ad pia uota deos, 10 Hannibalemque Lares Romana sede fugantis, anseris et tutum uoce fuisse Iouem: cum me Castalia speculans ex arbore Phoebus sic ait aurata nixus ad antra lyra: “Quid tibi cum tali, demens, est ﬂumine? quis te 15 carminis heroi tangere iussit opus? non hic ulla tibi speranda est fama, Properti: mollia sunt paruis prata terenda rotis; ut tuus in scamno iactetur saepe libellus, quem legat exspectans sola puella uirum. 20 cur tua praescriptos euecta est pagina gyros? non est ingenii cumba grauanda tui. alter remus aquas alter tibi radat harenas, tutus eris: medio maxima turba mari est.” dixerat, et plectro sedem mihi monstrat eburno, 25 quo noua muscoso semita facta solo est.

238 BOOK THREE POEM 3.3

3.3 Reclining in Helicon’s gentle shade, where flows the stream of Bellerophon’s steed, I had appeared ready to sing on my lyre of your kings, Alba, and their deeds, no small undertaking. I had put my little mouth to this gushing source, where father Ennius, when he was thirsty, once drank and sang the Curian brothers and weapons of the Horatii, kingdoms and trophies brought on the Aemilian ship, victorious delays by Fabius, the unlucky battle at Cannae and gods turned by pious vows, the Lares banishing Hannibal from the Roman seat, and Jove saved by the honking of geese: when Phoebus, spying me from a Castalian tree, speaks up, leaning on his golden lyre in front of a cave: “What does this river have to do with you, you flake? Who asked you to try heroic poetry? There’s no success awaiting you here, Propertius: small wheels are for tilling soft fields. May your book be often tossed on the night table; may a girl read it alone, while expecting her man. Why does your page drift from its prescribed course? Your genius’ skiff must not be overloaded. One oar strikes water, the other scratches sand. You’ll be okay: the largest crowd is out at sea.”

He had spoken; and with ivory plectrum points out a spot to which a new path has been made on the damp earth.

239 hic erat affixis uiridis spelunca lapillis, pendebantque cauis tympana pumicibus, orgia Musarum et Sileni patris imago fictilis et calami, Pan Tegeaee, tui; 30 et Veneris dominae uolucres, mea turba, columbae tingunt Gorgoneo punica rostra lacu; diuersaeque nouem sortitae iura Puellae exercent teneras in sua dona manus: haec hederas legit in thyrsos, haec carmina neruis 35 aptat, at illa manu texit utraque rosam. e quarum numero me contigit una dearum (ut reor a facie, Calliopea fuit): “Contentus niueis semper uectabere cycnis, nec te fortis equi ducet ad arma sonus. 40 nil tibi sit rauco praeconia classica cornu flare, nec Aonium tingere Marte nemus; aut quibus in campis Mariano proelia signo stent et Teutonicas Roma refringat opes, barbarus aut Sueuo perfusus sanguine Rhenus 45 saucia maerenti corpora uectet aqua. quippe coronatos alienum ad limen amantis nocturnaeque canes ebria signa fugae, ut per te clausas sciat excantare puellas, qui uolet austeros arte ferire uiros.” 50 talia Calliope, lymphisque a fonte petitis ora Philitea nostra rigauit aqua.

240 BOOK THREE POEM 3.3

Here was a mossy cave with mosaics afﬁxed, and drums were hanging from the hollow rock, the Muses’ instruments, and a sculpted image of father Silenus and your pipe, Pan Tegeaeus, and the swift doves of Mistress Venus, my ﬂock, wet their purple beaks at the Gorgon’s pool. The various Girls, each of the nine at her given art, work tender hands at their gifts: this one weaves ivy into thyrsi, this one harmonizes poetry to strings, and that one weaves a rose with each hand.

And of their number, one of the godesses touched me (from her appearance, I think it was Calliope): “You will always be happy sailing with the white swans, and the war-horse’s neighing won’t lead you to arms. Make sure not to blow the martial summons with raucous horn, and don’t stain the Aonian grove with Mars. Don’t recount how battles under the Marian standard may stand, how Rome smashes the Teutons’ wealth, or how the barbarian Rhine, ﬂooded with the Suevi’s blood, tosses wounded bodies in its dreary waters. Naturally, you will sing of lovers crowned at their enemies’ threshold and the drunken standards of nocturnal pursuit, that from you he may learn to enchant shut-in girls, whoever will want to harm stern men with art.”

Thus Calliope, and with the desired waters from her fountain she moistened my mouth with Philitean water.

241

III.iv Arma deus Caesar dites meditatur ad Indos, et freta gemmiferi ﬁndere classe maris. magna uiris merces: parat ultima terra triumphos; Tigris et Euphrates sub tua iura ﬂuent; sera, sed Ausoniis ueniet prouincia uirgis; 5 assuescent Latio Partha tropaea Ioui. ite agite, expertae bello date lintea prorae et solitum armigeri ducite munus equi! omina fausta cano. Crassos clademque piate! ite et Romanae consulite historiae! 10

Mars pater, et sacrae fatalia lumina Vestae, ante meos obitus sit precor illa dies, quid uideam spoliis oneratos Caesaris axis, ad uulgi plausus saepe resistere equos, inque sinu carae nixus spectare puellae 15 incipiam et titulis oppida capta legam, tela fugacis equi et bracati militis arcus, et subter captos arma sedere duces! ipsa tuam serua prolem, Venus: hoc sit in aeuum, cernis ab Aenea quod superesse caput. 20 praeda sit haec illis, quorum meruere labores: me sat erit Sacra plaudere posse Via.

242 BOOK THREE POEM 3.4

3.4 The god Caesar plans war against the luxurious Indians, cleaving the straits of the gem-bearing ocean with his fleet. Great profit for heroes: the farthest lands prepare victories. Tigris and Euphrates will flow under your jurisdiction. Late, but the province will submit to Ausonian rods. Parthian trophies will get used to Latian Jove. Go quickly! Give sail, you prows well-versed in battle, and you, weapon-bearing horses, lead on, as is your duty! I sing propitious omens. Avenge the defeat of the Crassi! Go, and be mindful of Roman history!

Father Mars, and the fateful lamps of holy Vesta, may that day arrive, I pray, before my death, when I may see Caesar’s axles weighed down with spoils, the horses pausing frequently to the crowd’s applause, and lying in my girlfriend’s lap, may I watch and read the names of captured towns on placards, the ﬂeeing horse’s arrows and bows of the trousered soldier, and sitting beneath the weapons—the captured leaders! You yourself, Venus, guard your progeny. May it last forever: this head you see descended from Aeneas. Let them have their reward, whose labors earned it: for me it will be enough to be allowed to applaud on the Via Sacra.

243

III.v Pacis Amor deus est, pacem ueneramur amantes: sat mihi cum domina proelia dura mea. nec tamen inuiso pectus mihi carpitur auro, nec bibit e gemma diuite nostra sitis, nec mihi mille iugis Campania pinguis aratur, 5 nec miser aera paro clade, Corinthe, tua. o prima infelix ﬁngenti terra Prometheo! ille parum caute pectoris egit opus. corpora disponens mentem non uidit arte: recta animi primum debuit esse uia. 10 nunc maris in tantum uento iactamur, et hostem quaerimus, atque armis nectimus arma noua. haud ullus portabis opes Acherontis ad undas: nudus ab inferna, stulte, uehere rate. uictor cum uictis pariter miscebitur umbris: 15 consule cum Mario, capte Iugurtha, sedes. Lydus Dulichio non distat Croesus ab Iro: optima mors Parcae quae uenit acta die. me iuuat in prima coluisse Helicona iuuenta Musarumque choris implicuisse manus: 20 me iuuat et multo mentem uincire Lyaeo, et caput in uerna semper habere rosa. atque ubi iam Venerem grauis interceperit aetas, sparserit et nigras alba senecta comas, tum mihi naturae libeat perdiscere mores, 25 quis deus hanc mundi temperet arte domum,

244 BOOK THREE POEM 3.5

3.5 Love is a god of Peace. We lovers venerate peace. Earnest struggles with my mistress are enough for me. Anyway, my heart can’t be plucked by greed for gold. My thirst drinks not from a jewelled goblet. Campania, with its countless fertile heights, is not plowed for me. I don’t sweat for bronze, Corinth, from your demise.

O primal earth poorly transformed by Prometheus! He took too little care with the heart. Artfully working out the bodies, he didn’t see the mind: the right way of the spirit ought to have been a priority. Now we are tossed across the seas by storms; we seek out our enemy, and we weave new strife to old.

You won’t take any possessions to the waves of Acheron: you’ll ride nude, you fool, on the infernal raft. Victor will be mixed with victim in the shadows: captive Jugurtha, you will sit with the consul Marius. Lydian Croesus is next to Dulichian Irus. The ideal death comes on its fated day. I’m glad I cultivated Helicon in my ﬁrst youth and joined hands in the Muses’ dances. I’m glad too I got smashed on lots of wine and always had fresh roses in my hair.

And when dreary age has intercepted Venus, and hoary eminence besprinkles my dark hair, then let me enjoy learning the ways of nature, which god artfully controls this sector of the universe,

245 qua uenit exoriens, qua deficit, unde coactis cornibus in plenum menstrua luna redit, unde salo superant uenti, quid flamine captet Eurus, et in nubes unde perennis aqua; 30 sit uentura dies mundi quae subruat arces, purpureus pluuias cur bibit arcus aquas, aut cur Perrhaebi tremuere cacumina Pindi, solis et atratis luxerit orbis equis, cur serus uersare boues et plaustra Bootes, 35 Pleiadum spisso cur coit igne chorus, curue suos finis altum non exeat aequor, plenus et in partis quattuor annus eat; sub terris sint iura deum et tormenta gigantum, Tisiphones atro si furit angue caput, 40 aut Alcmaeoniae furiae aut ieiunia Phinei, num rota, num scopuli, num sitis inter aquas, num tribus infernum custodit faucibus antrum Cerberus, et Tityo iugera pauca nouem, an ficta in miseras descendit fabula gentis, 45 et timor haud ultra quam rogus esse potest. exitus hic uitae superest mihi: uos, quibus arma grata magis, Crassi signa referte domum.

246 BOOK THREE POEM 3.5

how he comes rising, how he sets, how the moon, its horns ﬁlled in, goes monthly back to full, how the winds rise over the sea, what Eurus snatches in his blast, and whence the perennial waters of clouds, whether a day may come that will demolish the citadels of the earth, why the purple rainbow drinks rain water, or why the peaks of Perrhaebian Pindus have trembled, and the orb of the sun has grieved in black-clothed horses, why late Bootes has driven steer and wagon, why the chorus of the Pleiades meets in dense ﬁre: curving, the deep sea does not gush beyond its bounds, and the full year goes round in four seasons: whether under the earth are gods’ justice and Giants’ torments, if Tisiphone’s head rages with a black snake, and the Alcmaeonian Furies and Phineus’ hunger, and wheels, and rocks, and thirst amid the waters, Cerberus guarding the infernal cave, triple-jawed, and nine acres is too little for Tityus.

Or is this a made-up story handed down to ignorant mortals? There can be no fear greater than that of death. This end of life remains for me. You, for whom war is greatest pleasure, bring Crassus’ standards home.

247

III.vi Dic mihi de nostra, quae sentis, uera puella: sic tibi sint dominae, Lygdame, dempta iuga. num me laetitia tumefactum fallis inani, haec referens, quae me credere uelle putas? omnis enim debet sine uano nuntius esse, 5 maioremque timens seruus habere ﬁdem. nunc mihi, si qua tenes, ab origine dicere prima incipe: suspensis auribus ista bibam. sicin eam incomptis uidisti ﬂere capillis? illius ex oculis multa cadebat aqua? 10 nec speculum strato uidisti, Lygdame, lecto? ornabat niueas nullane gemma manus? ac maestam teneris uestem pendere lacertis, scriniaque ad lecti clausa iacere pedes? tristis erat domus, et tristes sua pensa ministrae 15 carpebant, medio nebat et ipsa loco, umidaque impressa siccabat lumina lana, rettulit et querulo iurgia nostra sono?

“Haec te teste mihi promissa est, Lygdame, merces? est poenae seruo rumpere teste ﬁdem. 20 ille potest nullo miseram me linquere facto, et qualem nolo dicere habere domi? gaudet me uacuo solam tabescere lecto? si placet, insultet, Lygdame, morte mea. non me moribus illa, sed herbis improba uicit: 25 staminea rhombi ducitur ille rota.

248 BOOK THREE POEM 3.6

3.6 Tell me what you really know about my girl: if you do, Lygdamus, you may remove our mistress’ yoke.

You’re not putting me on, are you, pufﬁng me up with false joy, reporting what you think I want to hear? For every messenger must be without falsehood, and each slave must earn his trust through fear. Now, whatever you’ve got, tell me from the very beginning: I’ll drink it up with eager ears.

You saw her crying, her hair a mess? Tears were ﬂooding from her eyes? You didn’t see a mirror, Lygdamus, on the bed? No gem decorated her snowy hands? Drab clothing hung from her soft forearms, and the perfume cases lay closed at the foot of the bed? The house was sad, and sad servants drew their wool, and she in the middle wove, and dried her damp eyes, dabbing them with wool, and replayed our ﬁghts with a querulous cry?

“Is this the deal he promised me, Lygdamus, that you witnessed? Inﬁdelity’s a crime, even when a slave’s the witness. He can let me go, though I’ve done nothing, and I refuse to spill which slut he’s shacked up with? He rejoices, watching me waste away alone on an empty bed? If it pleases him, Lygdamus, let him dance at my death. Not with style but with herbs has that bitch bested me: he is controlled by the threaded magic wheel.

249 illum turgentis ranae portenta rubetae et lecta exuctis anguibus ossa trahunt, et strigis inuentae per busta iacentia plumae, cinctaque funesto lanea uitta toro. 30 si non uana canunt mea somnia, Lygdame, testor, poena erit ante meos sera sed ampla pedes; putris et in uacuo texetur aranea lecto: noctibus illorum dormiet ipsa Venus.” quae tibi si ueris animis est questa puella, 35 hac eadem rursus, Lygdame, curre uia, et mea cum multis lacrimis mandata reporta, iram, non fraudes esse in amore meo, me quoque consimili impositum torquerier igni: iurabo bis sex integer esse dies. 40 quod mihi si e tanto felix concordia bello exstiterit, per me, Lygdame, liber eris.

250 BOOK THREE POEM 3.6

Portents of the swelling bramble-toad attract him, and readings from the bones of gutted snakes, owl feathers found on fallen tombs, and a woolen ﬁllet that has adorned a funereal couch. If my dreams sing not in vain, Lygdamus, I swear, there will be hell to pay—late but ample—before my feet! A dusty cobweb will be woven on their empty bed: Venus will be dead asleep on their nights of love.”

If the girl made these complaints to you from the heart, run, Lygdamus, back the way you came, and bring my response, bolstered by copious sobbing: that I may be angry but I’m never deceitful in my love, that I am twisted over a similar ﬂame: I will swear I’ve been without sex for twelve days. And if out of all this conﬂict a happy concord should arise, as far as I’m concerned, Lygdamus, you’ll be free.

251

III.vii Ergo sollicitae tu causa, pecunia, uitae! per te immaturum mortis adimus iter; tu uitiis hominum crudelia pabula praebes; semina curarum de capite orta tuo. tu Paetum ad Pharios tendentem lintea portus 5 obruis insano terque quaterque mari. nam dum te sequitur, primo miser excidit aeuo et noua longinquis piscibus esca natat; et mater non iusta piae dare debita terrae nec pote cognatos inter humare rogos, 10 sed tua nunc uolucres astant super ossa marinae, nunc tibi pro tumulo Carpathium omne mare est. infelix Aquilo, raptae timor Orithyiae, quae spolia ex illo tanta fuere tibi? aut quidnam fracta gaudes, Neptune, carina? 15 portabat sanctos alueus ille uiros. Paete, quid aetatem numeras? quid cara natanti mater in ore tibi est? non habet unda deos. nam tibi nocturnis ad saxa ligata procellis omnia detrito uincula fune cadunt. 20 sunt Agamemnonias testantia litora curas, quae notat Argynni poena minantis aquae: hoc iuuene amisso classem non soluit Atrides, pro qua mactata est Iphigenia mora. reddite corpus humo, posita est in gurgite uita; 25 Paetum sponte tua, uilis harena, tegas;

252 BOOK THREE POEM 3.7

3.7 Money, you are the cause of life’s problems! Because of you, we travel to death too soon. You offer cruel sustenance to men’s vices: seeds of trouble grow from your root.

You overwhelm Paetus, as he holds his sails for the Pharian ports, in a sea three and four times enraged. For while he pursues you, the poor devil perishes in his youth and swims, fresh bait for faraway ﬁshes. And your mother is unable to render proper rites to the holy earth, nor to bury you in the tombs of your ancestors, but ocean birds now hover over your bones. Now the entire Carpathian sea serves as your grave.

Cruel Aquilo, who terriﬁed Orithyia when you raped her, what great spoils did you gain from this man? Or you, Neptune, why do you delight in his fractured keel? That hull was carrying holy youth. Paetus, why do you mention your age? Why call your dear mother as you swim? The wave has no gods. Every line you had tied to the rocks during that night’s storm fell away when the rope wore out. They are the shores that witnessed Agamemnon’s troubles, made famous by Argynnus’ punishment of threatening waters. Having lost this youth, the Atreid does not release the ﬂeet: for that delay, Iphigenia is destroyed.

Give back his body to the earth, his life is already lost in the ﬂood. May you cover Paetus of your own free will, lowly sand,

253 et quotiens Paeti transibit nauta sepulcrum, dicat, “Et audaci tu timor esse potes.” ite, rates curuate et leti texite causas: ista per humanas mors uenit acta manus. 30 terra parum fuerat, fatis adiecimus undas: fortunae miseras auximus arte uias. ancora te teneat, quem non tenuere penates? quid meritum dicas, cui sua terra parum est? uentorum est, quodcumque paras: haud ulla carina 35 consenuit, fallit portus et ipse fidem. natura insidians pontum substrauit auaris: ut tibi succedat, uix semel esse potest. saxa triumphalis fregere Capharea puppis, naufraga cum uasto Graecia tracta salo est. 40 paulatim socium iacturam fleuit Vlixes, in mare cui soliti non ualuere doli. quod si contentus patrio boue uerteret agros, uerbaque duxisset pondus habere mea, uiueret ante suos dulcis conuiua Penatis, 45 pauper, at in terra nil nisi fleret opes. non tulit hic Paetus stridorem audire procellae et duro teneras laedere fune manus; sed thyio thalamo aut Oricia terebintho ecfultum pluma uersicolore caput. 50 huic fluctus uiuo radicitus abstulit unguis, et miser inuisam traxit hiatus aquam.

254 BOOK THREE POEM 3.7 and every time a sailor will encounter Paetus’ tomb, let him say, “And you can bring terror even to the daring.” Go, curved ships, and weave causes of destruction: that kind of death has come about solely by human hands. Earth wasn’t enough, we had to add death at sea: we artfully expanded the treacherous paths of fortune. Could an anchor hold you, whom his household gods have failed to hold? What could you say of value to whom his land means little? It’s for the winds, whatever you prepare: hardly any ship has reached old age, even the port itself breaks its promise. Nature spread out the sea to trap the greedy: it’s unlikely you should succeed even once.

The Capharean rocks smashed triumphal ships. The Greek shipwrecks were dragged into the vast ocean. Ultimately, Ulysses mourned his drowned companions: against the sea, his usual tricks were useless. But if he’d been content to till his ﬁelds with his ancestral cattle, and if he’d realized my words have weight, he’d have lived, before his Penates, a gentle host, poor, but on dry land he’d have mourned nothing but missed money.

This Paetus couldn’t bear the crash of the storm, ripping his tender hands on the rough rope. Rather, in paneled bedchamber or Orician terebinth, his head rested on iridescent down. This man’s nails were ripped from their roots while he lived, and a gaping hole sucked in the hated water.

255 hunc paruo ferri uidit nox improba ligno. Paetus ut occideret, tot coiere mala.

flens tamen extremis dedit haec mandata querelis, 55 cum moribunda niger clauderet ora liquor: “Di maris Aegaei quos sunt penes aequora, uenti, et quaecumque meum degrauat unda caput, quo rapitis miseros primae lanuginis annos? attulimus longas in freta uestra manus. 60 a miser alcyonum scopulis affligar acutis! in me caeruleo fuscina sumpta deo est. at saltem Italiae regionibus euehat aestus: hoc de me sat erit si modo matris erit.” subtrahit haec fantem torta uertigine fluctus; 65 ultima quae Paeto uoxque diesque fuit. o centum aequoreae Nereo genitore puellae, et tu materno tracta dolore Theti; uos decuit lasso supponere bracchia mento: non poterat uestras ille grauare manus. 70 at tu, saeue Aquilo, numquam mea uela uidebis: ante fores dominae condar opertet iners.

256 BOOK THREE POEM 3.7

Bastard night saw this man borne on a small plank. So many ills converged to cause Paetus’ death.

Even as he cried, when the dark water was closing over his dying eyes, in his ﬁnal laments, he gave these orders: “Gods of the Aegean, in whose power are oceans, winds, and whatever wave is weighing down my head, why do you snatch the poor years of my ﬁrst cheek-down? We brought slender hands into your straits. Poor me, I’ll be crushed on the jagged rocks of the seabirds! The trident is taken up against me by the cerulean god. But at least let the tide carry me to Italian regions: this will be enough of me for my mother.” As he said this, the wave dragged him under in a twisting whirl: these were Paetus’ last words, his last day.

O hundred sea-born girls from Nerean stock, and you, Thetis, drawn by a mother’s pain, you should have put your arms beneath his tired chin: he couldn’t have weighed much in your hands. But you, savage Aquilo, will never see my sails: I’ll stay here and write poetry before my mistress’ doors.

257

III.viii a Dulcis ad hesternas fuerat mihi rixa lucernas, uocis et insanae tot maledicta tuae, cum furibunda mero mensam propellis et in me proicis insana cymbia plena manu. tu uero nostros audax inuade capillos 5 et mea formosis unguibus ora nota, tu minitare oculos subiecta exurere ﬂamma, fac mea rescisso pectora nuda sinu! nimirum ueri dantur mihi signa caloris; nam sine amore graui femina nulla dolet. 10 quae mulier rabida iactat conuicia lingua, haec Veneris magnae uoluitur ante pedes— custodum gregibus circa seu stipat euntem, seu sequitur medias, Maenas ut icta, uias, seu timidam crebro dementia somnia terrent, 15 seu miseram in tabula picta puella mouet: his ego tormentis animi sum uerus haruspex, has didici certo saepe in amore notas. non est certa ﬁdes, quam non in iurgia uertas: hostibus eueniat lenta puella meis. 20 in morso aequales uideant mea uulnera collo: me doceat liuor mecum habuisse meam. aut in amore dolere uolo aut audire dolentem, siue meas lacrimas siue uidere tuas, tecta superciliis si quando uerba remittis, 25 aut tua cum digitis scripta silenda notas.

258 BOOK THREE POEM 3.8A

3.8 A We had a great blow-up at yesterday’s lamps, so many curses from your insane voice, when, drunk on wine, you push the table over and cast full tumblers at me with insane hand! Go ahead! Rip my hair and scratch my face with your beautiful nails! Threaten to set ﬁre and burn my eyes! Rip off my tunic, expose my bare breast!

No doubt signs of true heat are given me: for no woman suffers, except from heavy love. The invective a woman hurls with rabid tongue is also uttered beneath lofty Venus’ feet— or she crowds him with ﬂocks of chaperons when he goes out, or she herself, like a besotted Maenad, scours the highways, or ceaseless demented nightmares terrify the shy girl, or the girl stirs her poor girlfriend with painted images: I am a true prophet in torments of the soul. I’ve often studied these signs of true lust. It’s not real passion that you don’t turn to reproaches: let a dull girl be my enemies’ prize. May my contemporaries see the wounds on my bitten neck: let jealousy teach me to have had my girl with me.

I wish either to suffer from love or to hear suffering, to witness either my tears or yours, when you send words concealed in frowns, or when you signal with your ﬁngers your secret messages.

259 odi ego quos numquam pungunt suspiria somnos: semper in irata pallidus esse uelim. dulcior ignis erat Paridi, cum grata per arma Tyndaridi poterat gaudia ferre suae: 30 dum uincunt Danai, dum restat barbarus Hector, ille Helenae in gremio maxima bella gerit. aut tecum aut pro te mihi cum riualibus arma semper erunt: in te pax mihi nulla placet.

260 BOOK THREE POEM 3.8A

I hate the sleep that sighs never disturb: I would be always pale to my angry one.

The ﬁre was sweeter for Paris when, through a lively defense, he could bear ecstasy to his Tyndarid: while the Danaans conquered, while savage Hector lasted, he waged the greatest war in Helen’s pussy!

Either with you or for you against rivals, I’ll always be at war: with you, no peace will ever please me.

261

III.viii b Gaude, quod nulla est aeque formosa: doleres, 35 si qua foret: nunc sis iure superba licet. at tibi, qui nostro nexisti retia lecto, sit socer aeternum nec sine matre domus! cui nunc si qua data est furandae copia noctis, offensa illa mihi, non tibi amica, dedit. 40

262 BOOK THREE POEM 3.8B

3.8 B Be happy, since no girl’s as pretty: you’d complain if one were. As it is, you’ve got a right to be proud. As for you, who planted snares in our bed, may your father-in-law and mother be eternally camped at your house! If now you’ve been granted a supply of stolen nights, she gave them because she was mad at me, not because she likes you!

263

III.ix Maecenas, eques Etrusco de sanguine regum, intra fortunam qui cupis esse tuam, quid me scribendi tam uastum mittis in aequor? non sunt apta meae grandia uela rati. turpe est, quod nequeas, capiti committere pondus 5 et pressum inflexo mox dare terga genu. omnia non pariter rerum sunt omnibus apta, Fama nec ex aequo ducitur ulla iugo: gloria Lysippo est animosa ecfingere signa; exactis Calamis se mihi iactat equis; 10 in Veneris tabula summam sibi poscit Apelles; Parrhasius parua uindicat arte locum; argumenta magis sunt Mentoris addita formae; at Myos exiguum flectit acanthus iter; Phidiacus signo se Iuppiter ornat eburno; 15 Praxitelen propria uendit ab urbe lapis. et quibus Eleae concurrit palma quadrigae, est quibus in celeres gloria nata pedes; hic satus ad pacem, hic castrensibus utilis armis: naturae sequitur semina quisque suae. 20 at tua, Maecenas, uitae praecepta recepi, cogor et exemplis te superare tuis. cum tibi Romano dominas in honore securis et liceat medio ponere iura foro; uel tibi Medorum pugnaces ire per hastas; 25

264 BOOK THREE POEM 3.9

3.9 Maecenas, knight descended from Etruscan kings, since you are happy to remain within your station, why dispatch me on a vast ocean of writing? Huge sails don’t ﬁt my raft.

It’s a disgrace to take a weight you can’t handle on your head, to show your back, pressed down on bent knee. All things are not equally suited to all people: Fame’s carriage is not drawn by matched pairs:

Lysippus’ achievement is to mold lively statues; I love Calamis for his perfect horses. Apelles demands ﬁrst prize for his painting of Venus; Parrhasius captures a place in miniature. Mentor’s forms are greater because of their stories; Mys’ acanthus wends a narrow way. The Pheidian Jupiter wraps himself in ivory; stone from the city itself commends Praxiteles.

There are those who gain the palm of the Elean chariot, those whose glory is born from swift feet. This son is useful in peacetime, that one in army camps: each follows the seeds of his own nature.

But I have received your precepts for life, Maecenas, and I am bound to surpass you through your example. Whenever you hold the imperial axes in Rome’s honor and dispense justice in the middle of the Forum, or when you brave the vicious spears of the Medes

265

atque onerare tuam fixa per arma domum; et tibi ad effectum uires det Caesar, et omni tempore tam faciles insinuentur opes; parcis et in tenuis humilem te colligis umbras: uelorum plenos subtrahis ipse sinus. 30 crede mihi, magnos aequabunt ista Camillos iudicia, et uenies tu quoque in ora uirum, Caesaris et famae uestigia iuncta tenebis: Maecenatis erunt uera tropaea fides. non ego uelifera tumidum mare findo carina: 35 tota sub exiguo flumine nostra mora est. non flebo in cineres arcem sedisse paternos Cadmi, nec semper proelia clade pari; nec referam Scaeas et Pergama Apollinis arces, et Danaum decimo uere redisse ratis, 40 moenia cum Graio Neptunia pressit aratro uictor Palladiae ligneus artis equus. inter Callimachi sat erit placuisse libellos et cecinisse modis, Coe poeta, tuis. haec urant pueros, haec urant scripta puellas, 45 meque deum clament et mihi sacra ferant! te duce uel Iouis arma canam caeloque minantem Coeum et Phlegraeis Oromedonta iugis; celsaque Romanis decerpta palatia tauris ordiar et caeso moenia firma Remo, 50 eductosque pares siluestri ex ubere reges,

266 BOOK THREE POEM 3.9 and crowd your home with hanging weapons, when Caesar gives you support for a project, and each time so much easy money rolls in, you hold back and humbly withdraw into the shadows: of your own will, you pull in the full billows of your sails. Believe me, these decisions will level the mighty Camilluses, and you also will come to men’s lips. Your steps will be linked to Caesar’s fame: true faith will be the “Maecenian trophy.”

I don’t split the swelling sea with sail-bearing keel: I prefer to lounge near a trickling stream. I won’t mourn Cadmus’ citadel fallen in paternal ashes nor the battles that turned destruction’s tide. I won’t bring up the Scaean gates, and Pergama, Apollo’s citadel, or the return of the Danaan ships in the tenth spring, when the victor, wooden horse of Palladian artifice, pressed Neptunian ramparts with the Greek plow. It will be enough to have given pleasure like that in Callimachus’ books and to have sung in your modes, Coan poet. May these writings set boys on fire, may they set girls on fire! Let them acclaim me a god! Let them bring me offerings!

If you gave the lead, I’d sing of Jove’s battles and Coeus menacing heaven, Oromedon and the Phlegraean heights. I’d tell of the Palatine hill grazed by Roman bulls, walls secured by Remus’ death, and the pair of kings raised at a sylvan breast,

267

crescet et ingenium sub tua iussa meum; prosequar et currus utroque ab litore ouantis, Parthorum astutae tela remissa fugae, castraque Pelusi Romano subruta ferro, 55 Antonique grauis in sua fata manus. mollis tu coeptae fautor cape lora iuuentae, dexteraque immissis da mihi signa rotis. hoc mihi, Maecenas, laudis concedis, et a te est, quod ferar in partis ipse fuisse tuas? 60

268 BOOK THREE POEM 3.9 and my talent would grow at your command. I’d follow celebrations of chariots from two shores, arrows cast aside by Parthians in their clever ﬂight, the camps of Pelusium overrun by Roman iron, and Antony’s hands, implicated in his own death.

269

III.x Mirabar, quidnam uississent mane Camenae, ante meum stantes sole rubente torum. natalis nostrae signum misere puellae et manibus faustos ter crepuere sonos. transeat hic sine nube dies, stent aere uenti, 5 ponat et in sicco molliter unda minax. aspiciam nullos hodierna luce dolentis; et Niobae lacrimas supprimat ipse lapis; alcyonum positis requiescant ora querelis; increpet absumptum nec sua mater Itym. 10 tuque, o cara mihi, felicibus edita pennis, surge et poscentis iusta precare deos. at primum pura somnum tibi discute lympha, et nitidas presso pollice finge comas: dein qua primum oculos cepisti ueste Properti 15 indue, nec uacuum flore relinque caput; et pete, qua polles, ut sit tibi forma perennis, inque meum semper stent tua regna caput. inde coronatas ubi ture piaueris aras, luxerit et tota flamma secunda domo, 20 sit mensae ratio, noxque inter pocula currat, et crocino naris murreus ungat onyx. tibia nocturnis succumbat rauca choreis, et sint nequitiae libera uerba tuae, dulciaque ingratos adimant conuiuia somnos; 25

270 BOOK THREE POEM 3.10

3.10 I marveled that the Camenae had arrived so early, standing before my couch as the sun reddened. They made the sign of my girlfriend’s birthday and three times sounded favorable omens with their hands.

May the day pass without clouds, may winds stand in the air, and may the threatening wave come to rest gently on dry land. May I see no suffering during this day’s light. May the very rock of Niobe choke back its tears, may the mouths of seabirds rest from their usual complaints, and may his mother not bewail her destroyed Itys.

And you, my beloved, born under favorable wings, arise and make just prayers to the expectant gods. But first, dispel your sleep with pure water, and with your fingers arrange your shining hair. Then, put on that dress in which you first caught Propertius’ eyes. Do not leave your head without flowers. Try, as much as you can, to make your beauty eternal, that your rule may always stand over my head.

Later, when you have blessed the bedecked altars with incense, and propitious ﬂame has blazed in every corner of the house, then let there be thought for the table, let the night run amid its cups, and let the perfumed alabastrum spray the nostrils with saffron. Let the raucous ﬂute succumb to the night’s dances, let the conversation be free of your usual abuse, and let the sweet festivities fend off unwelcome sleep.

271

publica uicinae perstrepat aura uiae: sit sors et nobis talorum interprete iactu, quem gravibus pennis uerberet ille puer. cum fuerit multis exacta trientibus hora, noctis et instituet sacra ministra Venus, 30 annua soluamus thalamo sollemnia nostro, natalisque tui sic peragamus iter.

272 BOOK THREE POEM 3.10

Let the air in the neighboring street resound: let’s have our fortunes, the throw of the dice our interpreter, whom it is that Boy whips with heavy wings.

When the time has passed with many drinks, and attendant Venus introduces night’s sacred rites, let us observe the annual solemnities in our bed, and let us carry to the end your birthday journey.

273

III.xi Quid mirare, meam si uersat femina uitam et trahit addictum sub sua iura uirum, criminaque ignaui capitis mihi turpia ﬁngis, quod nequeam fracto rumpere uincla iugo? uentorum melius praesagit nauita motus, 5 uulneribus didicit miles habere metum. ista ego praeterita iactaui uerba iuuenta: tu nunc exemplo disce timere meo.

Colchis ﬂagrantis adamantina sub iuga tauros egit et armigera proelia seuit humo, 10 custodisque feros clausit serpentis hiatus, iret ut Aesonias aurea lana domos. ausa ferox ab equo quondam oppugnare sagittis Maeotis Danaum Penthesilea ratis; aurea cui postquam nudauit cassida frontem, 15 uicit uictorem candida forma uirum. Omphale in tantum formae processit honorem, Lydia Gygaeo tincta puella lacu, ut, qui pacato statuisset in orbe columnas, tam dura traheret mollia pensa manu. 20 Persarum statuit Babylona Semiramis urbem, ut solidum cocto tolleret aggere opus, et duo in aduersum mitti per moenia currus nec possent tacto stringere ab axe latus; duxit et Euphraten medium, quam condidit, arcis, 25 iussit et imperio subdere Bactra caput.

274 BOOK THREE POEM 3.11

3.11 Why do you wonder if a woman perverts my life and leads off my manhood, a slave at her command? Why do you trump up the heinous crime of a listless head, because I am unable to break my chains, even when the yoke is fractured?

The sailor knows in advance the movements of the winds, the soldier has learned fear from his wounds. I used to brag like that when my youth was passing: you now, learn to fear from my example.

The Colchian drove burning bulls under adamantine heights, sowed weapon-bearing battles in the earth, and shut the savage jaws of the guardian serpent, that the golden ﬂeece could travel to Aesonian dwellings. Once, ferocious on her horse, Maeotic Penthesilea dared oppose the Danaan ﬂeet with arrows. After he’d stripped the golden helmet from her face, her shining beauty conquered the man who’d killed her. Omphale came out with such beautiful grace, after the girl had bathed in the Gygaean Lake in Lydia, that the man who had set up columns in a placated world would perform gentle tasks with that rough hand. Semiramis built Babylon, city of the Persians, erecting a solid work with massive construction, that two chariots sent in opposite directions on the parapet could avoid touching each other as their axles passed. She also diverted the Euphrates into the middle of the citadel she built and ordered the conquest of the capital Bactra by imperial decree.

275 nam quid ego heroas, quid raptem in crimina diuos? Iuppiter infamat seque suamque domum. quid, modo quae nostris opprobria vexerit armis, et famulos inter femina trita suos? 30 coniugii obsceni pretium Romana poposcit moenia et addictos in sua regna Patres. noxia Alexandria, dolis aptissima tellus, et totiens nostro Memphi cruenta malo, tris ubi Pompeio detraxit harena triumphos! 35 tollet nulla dies hanc tibi, Roma, notam. issent Phlegraeo melius tibi funera campo, uel tua si socero colla daturus eras. scilicet incesti meretrix regina Canopi, una Philippeo sanguine adusta nota, 40 ausa Ioui nostro latrantem opponere Anubim, et Tiberim Nili cogere ferre minas, Romanamque tubam crepitanti pellere sistro, baridos et contis rostra Liburna sequi, foedaque Tarpeio conopia tendere saxo, 45 iura dare et statuas inter et arma Mari! quid nunc Tarquinii fractas iuuat esse securis, nomine quem simili uita superba notat, si mulier patienda fuit? cape, Roma, triumphum et longum Augusto salua precare diem! 50 fugisti tamen in timidi uaga ﬂumina Nili: accepere tua Romula uincla manus. bracchia spectaui sacris admorsa colubris,

276 BOOK THREE POEM 3.11

But why should I grab at heroines, why should I catch gods in crimes? Even Jupiter dishonors himself and his temple. What about the one who brought shame to our military, that slut who even banged her own slaves? She demanded a price for that obscene marriage: Roman fortiﬁcations and our leaders bound to her command. Damned Alexandria, land suited to treachery, and Memphis so often bloodied to our ill, where the beach dragged his three triumphs from Pompeius! No day will come to lift this disgrace from you, Rome. A funeral in the Phlegraean ﬁeld would have been better, or if you were going to give your neck to your father-in-law.

Of course, the whore queen of incestuous Canopus, the only one known for branding Philip’s line, dared to oppose the barking Anubis to our Jove, and to force the Tiber to bear the Nile’s threats, to drive the Roman trumpet with the rattling sistrum, and to pursue Liburnian prows with the poles of the baris, to spread ugly mosquito nets on the Tarpeian rock, and to dispense justice amid the statues and arms of Marius!

What good now are the shattered axes of Tarquinius, whom a proud life marked with a similar name, if a woman had to be endured? Take the triumph, Rome, and pray for a long safe life for Augustus! Still you ﬂed into the wandering stream of the cowardly Nile: accept the Romulan chains on your hand. I saw your arms bitten by the holy serpent,

277

et trahere occultum membra soporis iter. “Non hoc, Roma, fui tanto tibi ciue uerenda!” 55 dixit et assiduo lingua sepulta mero. septem urbs alta iugis, toto quae praesidet orbi, femineas timuit territa Marte minas? 58 haec di condiderant, haec di quoque moenia seruant: 65 uix timeat saluo Caesare Roma Iouem. 66 nunc ubi Scipiadae classes, ubi signa Camilli, 67 aut modo Pompeia, Bospore, capta manu? 68 Hannibalis spolia et uicti monumenta Syphacis, 59 et Pyrrhi ad nostros gloria fracta pedes? 60 Curtius expletis statuit monumenta lacunis, at Decius misso proelia rupit equo, Coclitis abscissos testatur semita pontis, est cui cognomen coruus habere dedit:

Leucadius uersas acies memorabit Apollo: 69 tantum operis belli sustulit una dies. 70 at tu, siue petes portus seu, nauita, linques, Caesaris in toto sis memor Ionio.

278 BOOK THREE POEM 3.11 and sleep’s unseen path overcome your limbs. “I wasn’t to be feared, Rome, with this great citizen on your side!” She spoke, her tongue buried in tons of pure.

Did the high city of the seven hills, which presides over all the earth, fear her woman’s threats, terriﬁed by Mars? Gods built these walls, gods also protect them: with Caesar safe, Rome need hardly fear Jove. Where now the Scipian forces, where Camillus’ standards, or those recently taken by Pompeius’ hand, o Bosporus? The spoils of Hannibal and the trophies of beaten Syphax, and Pyrrhus’ pride lie broken at our feet. Curtius erected statues by man-made lakes, and Decius broke battle, sending in his horse. Cocles’ Way is testimonial to bridges hacked apart, and there’s the guy called the Crow.

Leucadian Apollo will remember the reversed battle lines: one day suffered so much work of war. But you, sailor, whether you’re seeking port or leaving it, remember Caesar throughout the Ionian.

279

III.xii Postume, plorantem potuisti linquere Gallam, miles et Augusti fortia signa sequi? tantine ulla fuit spoliati gloria Parthi, ne faceres Galla multa rogante tua? si fas est, omnes pariter pereatis auari, 5 et quisquis fido praetulit arma toro! tu tamen iniecta tectus, uesane, lacerna potabis galea fessus Araxis aquam. illa quidem interea fama tabescet inani, haec tua ne uirtus fiat amara tibi, 10 neue tua Medae laetentur caede sagittae, ferreus aurato neu cataphractus equo, neue aliquid de te flendum referatur in urna: sic redeunt, illis qui cecidere locis. ter quater in casta felix, o Postume, Galla! 15 moribus his alia coniuge dignus eras. quid faciet nullo munita puella timore, cum sit luxuriae Roma magistra suae? sed securus eas: Gallam non munera uincent, duritiaeque tuae non erit illa memor. 20 nam quocumque die saluum te Fata remittent, pendebit collo Galla pudica tuo.

Postumus alter erit miranda coniuge Vlixes: non illi longae tot nocuere morae, castra decem annorum, et Ciconum mons Ismara, Calpe, 25 exustaeque tuae mox, Polypheme, genae,

280 BOOK THREE POEM 3.12

3.12 Postumus, could you leave your crying Galla and follow Augustus’ mighty standards, a soldier? Was there any glory in pillaging the Parthian with your Galla begging you not to?

If it’s right, may all you greedy bastards perish and whoever has chosen arms over a faithful bed! You though, you nut, covered in the folds of your cloak, will drink the Araxes’ water from your helmet, exhausted. She meanwhile grows frantic from empty rumors: that your bravery may cause you harm, or the Medes’ arrows rejoice in your slaughter, the sword-wielding mail-clad soldier on his goldened horse, and your remains are brought back in an urn to be mourned: that’s how they return, those who’ve died in those places.

You’re three and four times blessed, Postumus, in chaste Galla! You deserved another wife, the way you behave. What will a girl do, who is guarded by no fear, when Rome is ready to be her instructor in decadence? But you can go secure: gifts won’t conquer Galla, and she won’t remember your callousness. On whatever day the Fates will send you back safe, modest Galla will hang from your neck.

Postumus will be another Ulysses with admirable wife. The many long delays did him no harm: the camps for ten years, Ciconian Ismara, Calpe, and then, Polyphemus, your burned-up cheeks,

281 et Circae fraudes, lotosque herbaeque tenaces, Scyllaque et alternas scissa Charybdis aquas, Lampeties Ithacis ueribus mugisse iuuencos (pauerat hos Phoebo filia Lampetie), 30 et thalamum Aeaeae flentis fugisse puellae, totque hiemis noctes totque natasse dies, nigrantisque domos animarum intrasse silentum, Sirenum surdo remige adisse lacus, et ueteres arcus leto renouasse procorum, 35 errorisque sui sic statuisse modum. nec frustra, quia casta domi persederat uxor. uincit Penelopes Aelia Galla fidem.

282 BOOK THREE POEM 3.12

Circe’s tricks, the lotus and narcotic herbs, Scylla separated from Charybdis by shifting waters, the cattle of Lampetie groaning to the Ithacans (Phoebus’ daughter, Lampetie, had been afraid of them), to ﬂee the bedroom of the crying Aeaean girl, to drift so many nights and so many days in storms, to enter the black abodes of the silent spirits, to pass the lagoon of the Sirens with silent oar, to bring back the old bows to destroy the suitors, and thus to set an end to his wandering.

Not in vain, since a chaste wife persevered at home. Aelia Galla beats even Penelope’s devotion.

283

III.xiii Quaeritis, unde auidis nox sit pretiosa puellis, et Venere exhaustae damna querantur opes? certa quidem tantis causa et manifesta ruinis: luxuriae nimium libera facta uia est.

Inda cauis aurum mittit formica metallis, 5 et uenit e Rubro concha Erycina salo, et Tyros ostrinos praebet Cadmea colores, cinnamon et multi pastor odoris Arabs: haec etiam clausas expugnant arma pudicas, quaeque gerunt fastus, Icarioti, tuos. 10 matrona incedit census induta nepotum et spolia opprobrii nostra per ora trahit. nulla est poscendi, nulla est reuerentia dandi, aut si qua est, pretio tollitur ipsa mora. felix Eois lex funeris una maritis, 15 quos Aurora suis rubra colorat equis! namque ubi morifero iacta est fax ultima lecto, uxorum fusis stat pia turba comis, et certamen habent leti, quae uiua sequatur coniugium: pudor est non licuisse mori. 20 ardent uictrices et flammae pectora praebent, imponuntque suis ora perusta uiris. hoc genus infidum nuptarum, hic nulla puella nec fida Euadne nec pia Penelope. felix agrestum quondam pacata iuuentus, 25 diuitiae quorum messis et arbor erant!

284 BOOK THREE POEM 3.13

3.13 You ask why a night with gluttonous girls costs so much and why money spent on sex complains of its losses. Indeed, there is an obvious and clear reason for these plights: the way is made free for too much luxury.

The Indian ant carries gold from deep mines; Erycinan shell comes from the Ruber Sea. Cadmean Tyre offers oysters’ colors, the many-scented Arabian shepherd cinnamon: these weapons draw out modest, cloistered girls; all those who bear your derision, Icariotid. The lady steps out, clothed in the fortunes of spendthrifts, and she parades the shameful spoils in front of our noses. There is no respect for the asker, none for the giver, or if there is any, hesitation itself is removed for a price.

Eastern husbands, whom rosy Dawn colors with her horses, have an excellent burial custom! When the last torch is tossed upon the corpse-bearing bier, a reverent crowd of wives stands by, their hair let down, and they compete for death, to see which one of them may join her husband: it is a great disgrace not to be allowed to die. The victors burn and offer their breasts to the ﬂame, and they lay their burned faces on their men.

But this race of brides is faithless! Here no girl equals faithful Evadne or pious Penelope. Happy once the peaceful young farmers, whose wealth was the harvest and orchard,

285 illis munus erant decussa Cydonia ramo, et dare puniceis plena canistra rubis, nunc uiolas tondere manu, nunc mixta referre lilia uimineos lucida per calathos, 30 et portare suis uestitas frondibus uuas aut uariam plumae uersicoloris auem. his tum blanditiis furtiua per antra puellae oscula siluicolis empta dedere uiris. hinnulei pellis totos operibat amantis, 35 altaque natiuo creuerat herba toro, pinus et incumbens lentas circumdabat umbras; nec fuerat nudas poena uidere deas; corniger Arcadii uacuam pastoris in aulam dux aries saturas ipse reduxit ouis; 40 dique deaeque omnes, quibus est tutela per agros, praebebant uestri uerba benigna foci: “Et leporem, quicumque uenis, uenaberis, hospes, et si forte meo tramite quaeris auem: et me Pana tibi comitem de rupe uocato, 45 siue petes calamo praemia, siue cane.” at nunc desertis cessant sacraria lucis: aurum omnes uicta iam pietate colunt. auro pulsa ﬁdes, auro uenalia iura, aurum lex sequitur, mox sine lege pudor. 50 torrida sacrilegum testantur limina Brennum, dum petit intonsi Pythia regna dei:

286 BOOK THREE POEM 3.13 their work shaking down Cydonian apples with a stick, ﬁlling baskets with purple blackberries, now plucking violets by hand, now bringing back mixed lilies shining through wicker baskets and carrying grapes dressed in their own leaves or a bird varied in iridescent plumage.

In secret caves, girls gave these woodland men kisses bought by such gifts of ﬂattery. A roebuck’s pelt would cover every lover, and high grass had grown to make a natural bed. The overhanging pine would throw languid shadows, and it was no crime to witness naked goddesses. The horn-bearing ram led the sated ﬂocks back to the unguarded yard of the Arcadian shepherd.

All you gods and goddesses who take care of the ﬁelds, your altars would offer kind words: “And you’ll catch a rabbit, whoever comes as a guest, and a bird, if by chance you seek one in my glen: let my companion Pan be invoked from a rock, whether you seek prizes with a fowler’s pole or with a dog.”

The scorched thresholds testify against sacreligious Brennus, while he pursued the Pythian abode of the long-haired god;

287 at mons laurigero concussus uertice diras Gallica Parnasus sparsit in arma niues. te scelus accepto Thracis Polymestoris auro 55 nutrit in hospitio non, Polydore, pio. tu quoque ut auratos gereres, Eriphyla, lacertos, delapsis nusquam est Amphiaraus equis. proloquar:—atque utinam patriae sim uerus haruspex!— frangitur ipsa suis Roma superba bonis. 60 certa loquor, sed nulla ﬁdes: neque enim Ilia quondam uerax Pergameis Maenas habenda malis: sola Parim Phrygiae fatum componere, sola fallacem patriae serpere dixit equum. ille furor patriae fuit utilis, ille parenti: 65 experta est ueros irrita lingua deos.

288 BOOK THREE POEM 3.13 the mountain, struck at its laurel-bearing peak, Parnassus, poured ominous snows on the Gallic army. The wicked Thracian Polymestor, having pocketed the dough, nourished you, Polydorus, in impious hospitality. You, too, Eriphyla, so that you could have gold-studded forearms— his horses slipped, and Amphiaraus is no more.

I will speak out:—and I hope I’ll be a true prophet for my country!— proud Rome herself is shattered by her own goods. I speak with certainty, but no one listens, just as once no one believed the true Ilian Maenad, when she was prophesying the Pergamean troubles: she alone said that Paris was composing Phrygia’s destruction, she alone that the deceitful horse was creeping toward their country. That “madness” could have saved the country, and her father: the futile tongue found out the gods are true.

289

III.xiv Multa tuae, Sparte, miramur iura palaestrae, sed mage uirginei tot bona gymnasii, quod non infamis exercet corpore ludos inter luctantis nuda puella uiros, cum pila ueloces fallit per bracchia iactus, 5 increpat et uersi clauis adunca trochi, puluerulentaque ad extremas stat femina metas, et patitur duro uulnera pancratio: nunc ligat ad caestum gaudentia bracchia loris, missile nunc disci pondus in orbe rotat; 10 gyrum pulsat equis, niueum latus ense reuincit, uirgineumque cauo protegit aere caput, et modo Taygeti, crinis aspersa pruina, 15 sectatur patrios per iuga longa canis; 16 qualis Amazonidum nudatis bellica mammis 13 Thermodontiacis turba lauatur aquis; 14 qualis et Eurotae Pollux et Castor harenis, 17 hic uictor pugnis, ille futurus equis, inter quos Helene nudis capere arma papillis fertur nec fratres erubuisse deos. 20 lex igitur Spartana uetat secedere amantis, et licet in triuiis ad latus esse suae, nec timor aut ulla est clausae tutela puellae, nec grauis austeri poena cauenda uiri. nullo praemisso de rebus tute loquaris 25 ipse tuis: longae nulla repulsa morae. nec Tyriae uestes errantia lumina fallunt, est neque odoratae cura molesta comae.

290 BOOK THREE POEM 3.14

3.14 We marvel, Sparta, at the rules of your wrestling school, but especially at the goodies that fill your girls’ gymnasium, that a naked girl can exercise her body at games amid the wrestling men without recrimination, when the ball goes too fast to be caught, and the whirling hoop’s hooked rod rattles, and a dusty woman stands at the finish line and suffers injuries in the grueling pancratio. Now she binds her happy arms with thongs for boxing, now she whirls in a circle the missile weight of the discus. She stomps the ring with horses, ties a sword to her snowy flank, protects her girlish head with hollowed bronze cap, and now, her hair caked with frost, she follows hunting dogs on the long ridges of Taygetus, like that warlike band of bare-breasted Amazons, who wash in the Thermodon’s waves, like Pollux and Castor on the sands of the Eurotas, this one the winner at fighting, that one about to win at horses, and with them Helen, her titties naked, who is said to have taken up arms and not blushed before her god-brothers.

Spartan law forbids the separation of lovers. She can stay at his side on the street, and there’s no fear or guardian for a closeted girl, no dire punishment to be dreaded from a stern husband. With no intermediary, you can speak freely about your affairs: no cold shoulder or long delay. Tyrian clothes don’t deceive wandering eyes, and there’s no boring fretting about perfumed hair.

291 at nostra ingenti uadit circumdata turba, nec digitum angusta est inseruisse uia; 30 nec quae sint facies nec quae sint uerba rogandi inuenias: caecum uersat amator iter. quod si iura fores pugnasque imitata Laconum, carior hoc esses tu mihi, Roma, bono.

292 BOOK THREE POEM 3.14

But our Roman girl walks surrounded by a huge throng, and it’s impossible to stick a ﬁnger into a tight opening. You can’t determine how she speaks or what she looks like: the lover walks a blind road. If you’d follow the customs and ﬁghts of the Laconians, you’d be dearer to me, Rome, by this boon.

293

III.xv Sic ego non ullos iam norim in amore tumultus, nec ueniat sine te nox uigilanda mihi: ut mihi praetexti pudor est releuatus amictus et data libertas noscere amoris iter, illa rudis animos per noctes conscia primas 5 imbuit, heu nullis capta Lycinna datis! tertius (haud multo minus est) cum ducitur annus, uix memini nobis uerba coisse decem. cuncta tuus sepeliuit amor, nec femina post te ulla dedit collo dulcia uincla meo. 10 testis erit Dirce tam sero crimine saeua, Nycteos Antiopen accubuisse Lyco. a quotiens pulchros uulsit regina capillos, molliaque immitis ﬁxit in ora manus! a quotiens famulam pensis onerauit iniquis, 15 et caput in dura ponere iussit humo! saepe illam immundis passa est habitare tenebris, uilem ieiunae saepe negauit aquam. Iuppiter, Antiopae nusquam succurris habenti tot mala? corrumpit dura catena manus. 20 si deus es, tibi turpe tuam seruire puellam: inuocet Antiope quem nisi uincta Iouem? sola tamen, quaecumque aderant in corpore uires, regalis manicas rupit utraque manu. inde Cithaeronis timido pede currit in arces. 25

nox erat, et sparso triste cubile gelu. saepe uaga Asopi sonitu permota ﬂuentis

294 BOOK THREE POEM 3.15

3.15 May I never again have to experience such tumultuous passion, and may I never have to spend a sleepless night without you: when the modesty of my bordered cloak was lifted and freedom granted to learn the way of passion, she knowingly moistened my raw spirit in the ﬁrst nights—Lycinna, taken (ah!) without presents! The third year is over (well, almost that), and I scarcely recall ten words of intercourse between us. Passion for you has buried everything, and after you no other woman has lain pleasurable chains on my neck.

Dirce’s an example, raging over a past indiscretion: that Antiope, daughter of Nycteus, slept with Lycus. Over and over, the queen tore out her lovely hair and rained fierce blows on her delicate face! Over and over, she burdened her servant with unnecessary tasks, forced her to lay down her head on the hard earth! Often she made her live in filthy shadows, and she often denied even rank water to the starving girl. Jupiter, do you not run to help Antiope in all her troubles? A rough shackle destroys her hands. If you are a god, is it shameful to serve your girl: whom if not Jove may the bound Antiope invoke? Alone then, with whatever strength remained in her body, she broke the royal manacles on each hand. From there, she fled with fearful step to the heights of Cithaeron.

It was night, her sad bed covered in ice. Often, wandering, frightened by the din of the rushing Asopus,

295

credebat dominae pone uenire pedes. et durum Zethum et lacrimis Amphiona mollem experta est stabulis mater abacta suis. 30 ac ueluti, magnos cum ponunt aequora motus, Eurus ubi aduerso desinit ire Noto, litore sub tacito sonitus rarescit harenae, sic cadit inﬂexo lapsa puella genu. sera, tamen pietas: natis est cognitus error. 35 digne Iouis natos qui tueare senex, tu reddis pueris matrem, puerique trahendam uinxerunt Dircen sub trucis ora bouis. Antiope, cognosce Iouem: tibi gloria Dirce ducitur in multis mortem habitura locis. 40 prata cruentantur Zethi, uictorque canebat paeana Amphion rupe, Aracynthe, tua. at tu non meritam parcas uexare Lycinnam: nescit uestra ruens ira referre pedem. fabula nulla tuas de nobis concitet auris: 45 te solam et lignis funeris ustus amem.

296 BOOK THREE POEM 3.15 she believed the feet of her mistress came right behind her. Driven from her own stables, their mother found Zethus hard and Amphion soft with tears. And just as when seas calm their great motion and Eurus abandons going against the Notus, the sound of sand drawn from the shore quieting down, so the slipping girl falls on bent knee. Late, but justice comes: the boys recognize their mistake. You, old man worthy of Jove, who saved the sons, you give back their mother to the boys; and the boys bound Dirce, dragged under the face of a savage ox. Antiope, know Jove: your fame from Dirce, about to die, extends far and wide. Zethus’ ﬁelds are bloodied, and the victor Amphion was singing a paean from your peak, Aracynthus.

But you do not cease from vexing good Lycinna: your rushing anger is unable to restrain its foot. May no story about me strike your ears: even when I’m burned up on my funeral pyre, I’ll love you alone.

297

III.xvi Nox media, et dominae mihi uenit epistula nostrae: Tibure me missa iussit adesse mora, candida qua geminas ostendunt culmina turris, et cadit in patulos nympha Aniena lacus. quid faciam? obductis committam mene tenebris, 5 ut timeam audaces in mea membra manus? at si distulero haec nostro mandata timore, nocturno ﬂetus saeuior hoste mihi. peccaram semel, et totum sum pulsus in annum: in me mansuetas non habet illa manus. 10 nec tamen est quisquam, sacros qui laedat amantis: Scironis media sic licet ire uia. quisquis amator erit, Scythicis licet ambulet oris, nemo adeo ut noceat barbarus esse uolet. luna ministrat iter, demonstrant astra salebras, 15 ipse Amor accensas percutit ante faces, saeua canum rabies morsus auertit hiantis: huic generi quouis tempore tuta uia est. sanguine tam paruo quis enim spargatur amantis improbus? exclusis ﬁt comes ipsa Venus. 20 quod si certa meos sequerentur funera casus, talis mors pretio uel sit emenda mihi. afferet haec unguenta mihi sertisque sepulcrum ornabit custos ad mea busta sedens. di faciant, mea ne terra locet ossa frequenti, 25 qua facit assiduo tramite uulgus iter!

298 BOOK THREE POEM 3.16

3.16 Middle of the night, and a letter comes from my mistress: she has ordered me to be present at Tibur without delay, where the gleaming heights display twin towers and the Anian nymph falls into wide pools. What should I do? Should I entrust myself to enveloping shadows and the fear of bold hands on my body? But if I postpone my orders from fear, her displeasure will be worse than any nocturnal foe. I sinned once and was beaten for a whole year: with me she doesn’t use gentle hands.

Anyway, there isn’t anyone who’d harm holy lovers: they can walk down the middle of Sciron’s road. Whoever will be a lover, he may walk on Scythian shores. No one will want to be so barbaric as to harm him. The moon lights his way, stars reveal the ruts. Love himself strikes ahead with lit torches. The savage rage of dogs averts its gaping jaws: to this type, at any time, the road is safe. What creep would be sprayed by the scant blood of the lover? Venus herself becomes companion to the excluded.

But if certain destruction should follow my adventures, I’d gladly pay money for such a death. She will bear me unguents and festoon my tomb with wreaths, sitting guardian at my pyre. May the gods see to it that she does not lay my bones in a frequented spot, where crowds swarm on a well-worn path!

299 post mortem tumuli sic infamantur amantum. me tegat arborea deuia terra coma, aut humer ignotae cumulus uallatus harenae: non iuuat in media nomen habere uia. 30

300 BOOK THREE POEM 3.16

After death, the tombs of lovers are often thus deﬁled. Let a tree’s foliage cover me in a solitary place, or let me be buried as a fenced-in mound of unknown sand: it doesn’t do to be famous in the middle of the road.

301

III.xvii Nunc, o Bacche, tuis humiles aduoluimur aris: da mihi pacato uela secunda, pater. tu potes insanae Veneris compescere flatus, curarumque tuo fit medicina mero. per te iunguntur, per te soluuntur amantes: 5 tu uitium ex animo dilue, Bacche, meo. te quoque enim non esse rudem testatur in astris lyncibus ad caelum uecta Ariadna tuis. hoc mihi, quod ueteres custodit in ossibus ignis, funera sanabunt aut tua uina malum. 10 semper enim uacuos nox sobria torquet amantis; spesque timorque animos uersat utroque toro. quod si, Bacche, tuis per feruida tempora donis accersitus erit somnus in ossa mea, ipse seram uitis pangamque ex ordine collis, 15 quos carpent nullae me uigilante ferae, dum modo purpureo tumeant mihi dolia musto, et noua pressantis inquinet uua pedes. quod superest uitae per te et tua cornua uiuam, uirtutisque tuae, Bacche, poeta ferar. 20 dicam ego maternos Aetnaeo fulmine partus, Indica Nysaeis arma fugata choris, uesanumque noua nequiquam in uite Lycurgum, Pentheos in triplices funera rapta greges, curuaque Tyrrhenos delphinum corpora nautas 25 in uada pampinea desiluisse rate, et tibi per mediam bene olentia flumina Naxon,

302 BOOK THREE POEM 3.17

3.17 Now, Bacchus, I prostrate myself, humble, at your altar: give me calm, father, and favorable sails. You are capable of quelling insane Venus’ blasts, and there is a cure for trouble in your pure. By you are lovers joined, by you separated: dissolve the vice, Bacchus, from my soul.

Ariadne, drawn to the heavens by your lynxes, testifies in the stars that you too are not inexperienced. This evil of mine, which keeps old fires in my bones, either death or your vine will relieve. A sober night tortures jilted lovers. Hope and fear toss their spirits from side to side. But if, Bacchus, across my temples burning with your gifts, longed-for sleep will settle on my bones, I myself will plant vines and fix them in order on the hills, so that, through my vigilance, no she-beasts will strip them, as long as my jugs swell with purple must, and the new grape stains pressing feet.

For whatever time remains, I’ll live for you and your horns, and I’ll be called, Bacchus, poet of your heart. I’ll tell of your mother’s delivery with the Aetnean thunderbolt, Indian armies put to ﬂight by Nysian dances, Lycurgus raging in vain at the new vine, Pentheus’ corpse, pulled apart by three mobs, the Tyrrhenian sailors who jumped into the waves from the vine-laden boat, their bodies becoming curved dolphins, and your fragrant stream in the middle of Naxos,

303

unde tuum potant Naxia turba merum. candida laxatis onerato colla corymbis cinget Bassaricas Lydia mitra comas, 30 leuis odorato ceruix manabit oliuo, et feries nudos ueste ﬂuente pedes. mollia Dircaeae pulsabunt tympana Thebae, capripedes calamo Panes hiante canent, uertice turrigero iuxta dea magna Cybebe 35 tundet ad Idaeos cymbala rauca choros. ante fores templi crater antistitis auro libabit fundens in tua sacra merum. haec ego non humili referam memoranda coturno, qualis Pindarico spiritus ore tonat: 40 tu modo seruitio uacuum me siste superbo, atque hoc sollicitum uince sopore caput.

304 BOOK THREE POEM 3.17 where the Naxian masses drink you pure. When you have laced shining necks with loose clusters of ivy berries, a Lydian miter will gird Bassaric locks, a delicate throat will drip with fragrant oil, and you will strike bare feet, your garment ﬂowing.

The decadent drums of Dircean Thebes will pulsate, goat-footed Pans will sing with open reed-pipe, the great goddess Cybele too with turreted headdress will smash the raucous cymbal at Idaean orgies. Before the doors of the temple, the crater with the high priest’s gold will make a libation, pouring pure in your honor.

These great tales I’ll tell in a ﬂorid style, in a tone like that of a Pindaric voice: just release me from her proud domination and defeat this troubled head with sleep.

305

III.xviii Clausus ab umbroso qua ludit pontus Auerno, fumida Baiarum stagna tepentis aquae, qua iacet et Troiae tubicen Misenus harena, et sonat Herculeo structa labore uia; hic ubi, mortalis dexter cum quaereret urbes, 5 cymbala Thebano concrepuere deo— at nunc inuisae magno cum crimine Baiae, quis deus in uestra constitit hostis aqua? his pressus Stygias uultum demisit in undas, errat et in uestro spiritus ille lacu. 10 quid genus aut uirtus aut optima profuit illi mater, et amplexum Caesaris esse focos? aut modo tam pleno ﬂuitantia uela theatro, et per maternas omnia gesta manus? occidit, et misero steterat uicesimus annus: 15 tot bona tam paruo clausit in orbe dies. i nunc, tolle animos et tecum ﬁnge triumphos, stantiaque plausum tota theatra iuuent; Attalicas supera uestis, atque omnia magnis gemmea sint ludis: ignibus ista dabis. 20 sed tamen huc omnes, huc primus et ultimus ordo:

est mala, sed cunctis ista terenda uia est. exoranda canis tria sunt latrantia colla, scandenda est torui publica cumba senis. ille licet ferro cautus se condat et aere, 25 mors tamen inclusum protrahit inde caput.

306 BOOK THREE POEM 3.18

3.18 Where the sea plays, enclosed by shady Avernus, smoky pools of Baiae’s tepid water, where also lies Misenus, Troy’s bugler, in the sand, and the road built by Herculean labor sounds, here where, when favorably he sought human cities, cymbals crashed for the Theban god— now, hateful Baiae, with this horrendous crime, what hostile god stands in your water?

Weighed down, he dropped his face into the Stygian waves, and his ghost wanders across your lake. What good to him were his birth or character or his excellent mother, and the embrace of Caesar’s household? Or recently, the awnings flapping over the packed theater and all the gestures of his mother’s hands? He died, and his twentieth year stood still: so many good things the day enclosed in its meager orbit. Go now, lift your spirits and contrive triumphs for yourself, let all the theaters exult in standing ovations; surpass Attalic finery, let all the jewels be present at the great festivals: you will give these things to the fires. But anyway we all end up there, from the first to the last row: it’s horrible, but that road must be traveled by all. The three barking throats of the dog must be appeased, the public skiff of the stern old man must be mounted. A man may carefully bury himself in iron and bronze, still death drags out his protected head from within.

307

Nirea non facies, non uis exemit Achillem, Croesum aut, Pactoli quas parit umor, opes. hic olim ignaros luctus populauit Achiuos, Atridae magno cum stetit alter amor. 30 at tibi, nauta, pias hominum qui traicis umbras, huc animae portant corpus inane tuae; qua Siculae uictor telluris Claudius et qua Caesar, ab humana cessit in astra uia.

308 BOOK THREE POEM 3.18

His beauty didn’t exempt Nireus, nor his strength Achilles, nor Croesus his wealth, which the Pactolus’ stream puts forth. This grief once ravaged the uncomprehending Achaeans, when a second love befell the great Atreid.

But, sailor, you who convey the pious shades of mortals, they are carrying the body here, empty of your soul: like the victor in Sicily, Claudius, and like Caesar, he has departed from the human road into the stars.

309

III.xix Obicitur totiens a te mihi nostra libido: crede mihi, uobis imperat ista magis. uos, ubi contempti rupistis frena pudoris, nescitis captae mentis habere modum.

flamma per incensas citius sedetur aristas, 5 fluminaque ad fontis sint reditura caput, et placidum Syrtes portum et bona litora nautis praebeat hospitio saeua Malea suo, quam possit uestros quisquam reprehendere cursus et rabidae stimulos frangere nequitiae. 10 testis, Cretaei fastus quae passa iuuenci induit abiegnae cornua falsa bouis; testis Thessalico flagrans Salmonis Enipeo, quae uoluit liquido tota subire deo. crimen et illa fuit, patria succensa senecta, 15 arboris in frondis condita Myrrha nouae. nam quid Medeae referam, quo tempore matris iram natorum caede piauit amor? quidue Clytaemestrae, propter quam tota Mycenis infamis stupro stat Pelopea domus? 20 teque, o Minoa uenumdata Scylla figura tondens purpurea regna paterna coma? hanc igitur dotem uirgo desponderat hosti! Nise, tuas portas fraude reclusit amor.

310 BOOK THREE POEM 3.19

3.19 Our lust is often tossed in my face by you: believe me, those things rule you women more. You, when you’ve smashed the bridle of contempted shame, are unable to restrain your frenzied mind.

A fire raging in a wheatfield may be stopped more quickly and rivers return to their sources, the Syrtes offer sailors a placid port and savage Malea safe coasts to its visitor, than anyone may succeed in checking your flights and dulling the stimuli of your raging perversion.

Witness the girl who suffered the indignities of the Cretan bull, disguising herself in the fake horns of a wooden cow. Witness the burning Salmonid in the Thessalian Enipeus: she wanted to submit completely to the liquid god. And she was a disgrace, on ﬁre for her aged father— Myrrha, hidden in the boughs of a new tree. Why should I bring up Medea, and the time a mother’s love extinguished its anger with the murder of her sons? Or Clytemnestra, on whose account the entire house of Pelops stands disgraced in Mycenae’s eyes by her violation? And you, Scylla, sold for Minos’ beauty, who cut your father’s kingdom with his purple lock? This was the dowry the virgin pledged to an enemy! Nisus, love opened your doors with deceit.

311

at uos, innuptae, felicius urite taedas: 25 pendet Cretaea tracta puella rate. non tamen immerito Minos sedet arbiter Orci: uictor erat quamuis, aequus in hoste fuit.

312 BOOK THREE POEM 3.19

But you, unmarried girls, burn the marriage torches more happily: the girl hangs, dragged by the Cretan ship. Not, however, undeservedly does Minos sit as arbiter of Orcus: although he was victor, he was fair to his enemy.

313

III.xx Credis eum iam posse tuae meminisse figurae, uidisti a lecto quem dare uela tuo? durus, qui lucro potuit mutare puellam! tantine, ut lacrimes, Africa tota fuit? at tu, stulta, deos, tu fingis inania uerba: 5 forsitan ille alio pectus amore terat. est tibi forma potens, sunt castae Palladis artes, splendidaque a docto fame refulget auo, fortunata domus, modo sit tibi fidus amicus. fidus ero: in nostros curre, puella, toros! 10 tu quoque, qui aestiuos spatiosius exigis ignis, Phoebe, moraturae contrahe lucis iter.

Nox mihi prima uenit! primae data tempora noctis! longius in primo, Luna, morare toro. foedera sunt ponenda prius signandaque iura 15 et scribenda mihi lex in amore nouo. haec Amor ipse suo constringit pignora signo: testis sidereae torta corona deae. quam multae ante meis cedent sermonibus horae, dulcia quam nobis concitet arma Venus! 20 namque ubi non certo uincitur foedere lectus, non habet ultores nox uigilanda deos, et quibus imposuit, soluit mox uincla libido: contineant nobis omina prima ﬁdem. ergo, qui pactas in foedera ruperit aras, 25 pollueritque nouo sacra marita toro,

314 BOOK THREE POEM 3.20

3.20 Do you believe he can still recall your figure, that guy you saw sail away from your bed? A stiff who could trade his girl for profit! Was all Africa worth that much that you should cry? But you, you fool, invent gods and empty promises: maybe that man presses his breast to a new love. Yours is a potent beauty, you know Pallas’ chaste arts. A spotless reputation gleams from your learned ancestor, your family’s well-off. All you need is a faithful boyfriend. I’ll be faithful. Run, girl, to my bed! And you, who broadly drive your summer fires, Phoebus, shorten the journey of the lingering light.

Our first night has come! Give more hours to this first night! Linger long, Luna, in our first bedding.

The terms should be set in advance and the rights signed to: my New Love contract must be written up. Love himself fastens these securities with his seal: the curved diadem of the starry goddess bears witness. The more time we spend beforehand on these conversations, the sweeter the thrusts Venus will incite for us! For when a bed is not bound by certain terms, then a sleepless night has no avenging gods, and lust soon releases the chains it has imposed: may all our initial vows keep our love together.

Therefore, whoever would smash altars settled in terms and would pollute his sacred union with a new ﬂing,

315 illi sint quicumque solent in amore dolores, et caput argutae praebeat historiae, nec ﬂenti dominae pateﬁant nocte fenestrae: semper amet, fructu semper amoris egens. 30

316 BOOK THREE POEM 3.20 may all love’s pains come to him: may he offer his head to chattering rumor, may his mistress’ windows not open in his night of pain: let him always desire, always lacking the fruit of his desire.

317

III.xxi Magnum iter ad doctas proﬁcisci cogor Athenas, ut me longa graui soluat amore uia. crescit enim assidue spectando cura puellae: ipse alimenta sibi maxima praebet amor. omnia sunt temptata mihi, quacumque fugari 5 possit: at ex omni me premit ipse deus. uix tamen aut semel admittit, cum saepe negarit: seu uenit, extremo dormit amicta toro. unum erit auxilium: mutatis Cynthia terris quantum oculis, animo tam procul ibit amor. 10 nunc agite, o socii, propellite in aequora nauem, remorumque pares ducite sorte uices, iungiteque extremo felicia lintea malo: iam liquidum nautis aura secundat iter. Romanae turres et uos ualeatis, amici, 15 qualiscumque mihi tuque, puella, uale! ergo ego nunc rudis Hadriaci uehar aequoris hospes, cogar et undisonos nunc prece adire deos. deinde per Ionium uectus cum fessa Lechaeo sedarit placida uela phaselus aqua, 20 quod superest, sufferre, pedes, properate laborem, Isthmos qua terris arcet utrumque mare. inde ubi Piraei capient me litora portus, scandam ego Theseae bracchia longa uiae.

318 BOOK THREE POEM 3.21

3.21 I am forced to make the Great Tour to learned Athens, that a long trip may release me from a desperate lust. Anxiety over a girl grows constantly in the watching: Love provides himself his greatest nourishment. I’ve tried everything by which he might be expelled, but each time the god squeezes me unremittingly.

She scarcely admits me, or else just once, after often denying me, or if she comes, she sleeps, wrapped in a cloak, at the edge of the bed.

There will be one cure: changing countries and eyes from Cynthia, love will go that far away from my heart. Now push, crew, propel the ship across the sea, and take by lot your positions in pairs at oars, hoist propitious sails to the topmast: already a breeze speeds the sailor’s clear journey. Roman towers, and you, my friends, goodbye, and you, my girlfriend, if I can call you that, goodbye!

And now I’m blown, a ﬁrst-time traveler on the Adriatic, and with a prayer, I’m forced to approach the wave-thundering gods. Then, when the boat, blown across the Ionian, should rest its weary sails in Lechaeum’s placid waters, for what’s left, feet, prepare to bear the burden, where the Isthmos separates two seas with its banks. From there, when the shores of Piraeus’ port will receive me, I’ll ascend the long arm of the Thesean Way.

319

illic uel spatiis animum emendare Platonis 25 incipiam aut hortis, docte Epicure, tuis; persequar aut studium linguae, Demosthenis arma, librorumque tuos, docte Menandre, sales; aut certe tabulae capient mea lumina pictae, siue ebore exactae, seu magis aere, manus. 30 aut spatia annorum aut longa interualla profundi lenibunt tacito uulnera nostra situ: seu moriar, fato, non turpi fractus amore; atque erit illa mihi mortis honesta dies.

320 BOOK THREE POEM 3.21

There, I’ll begin to mend my spirit in Plato’s walks or in your gardens, learned Epicurus; I will pursue the study of language, Demosthenes’ weapon, and your witty books, learned Menander. Painted tablets will certainly entrance my eyes and polished works of ivory, or even better, bronze.

Either a space of years or the great interval of sea will ease my wounds with a slow recovery: if I die, so be it; it won’t be that I’m broken by vile lust; and that day of my death will be an honest one.

321

III.xxii Frigida tam multos placuit tibi Cyzicus annos, Tulle, Propontiaca quae ﬂuit isthmos aqua, Dindymis et sacra fabricata in uite Cybebe, raptorisque tulit quae uia Ditis equos? si te forte iuuant Helles Athamantidos urbes, 5 at desiderio, Tulle, mouere meo. tu licet aspicias caelum omne Atlanta gerentem, sectaque Persea Phorcidos ora manu, Geryonis stabula et luctantum in puluere signa Herculis Antaeique, Hesperidumque choros; 10 tuque tuo Colchum propellas remige Phasim, Peliacaeque trabis totum iter ipse legas, qua rudis Argoa natat inter saxa columba in faciem prorae pinus adacta nouae; et si qua Ortygie uisenda est, ora Caystri, 15 et quae septenas temperat unda uias; omnia Romanae cedent miracula terrae: natura hic posuit, quidquid ubique fuit. armis apta magis tellus quam commoda noxae: Famam, Roma, tuae non pudet historiae. 20 nam quantum ferro tantum pietate potentes stamus: uictrices temperat ira manus. hic Anio Tiburne ﬂuis, Clitumnus ab Vmbro tramite, et aeternum Marcius umor opus, Albanus lacus et socia Nemorensis ab unda, 25 potaque Pollucis nympha salubris equo.

322 BOOK THREE POEM 3.22

3.22 Has frigid Cyzicus pleased you so many years, Tullus, that spit that ﬂoods with Propontic water, and the holy Dindymid carved in a vine, Cybele, and the path which bore the steeds of the rapist Dis?

If the cities of Athamantid Helle happen to please you, still, Tullus, be moved by my desire. You may marvel at Atlas supporting the entire universe, and the Phorcid’s head, cut off by Perseus’ hand, and Geryon’s stables, the signs of Hercules and Antaeus fighting in the dust, and the Hesperides’ chorus; you may push up Colchian Phasis with your oar and follow the entire journey of the Pelian bark, where the raw pine in the face of a new prow guided by the dove of Argo swims between the rocks. And if in some way Ortygie is worth seeing, and the Cayster’s mouth, and that water that fills its seven paths— all these wonders yield to Roman earth. Here, nature has provided whatever was anywhere else. Land more suited to war than to accomodating pestilence: your history, Rome, brings your reputation no ignominy. For as much by the sword as by piety do we stand potent: rage tempers its victorious hands. Here, Anio, you flow through Tibur, Clitumnus near the Umbrian path, and the Marcian water, a timeless work, the Alban lake and the Nemorensis, which share a source, and the nymph, a refreshing drink for Pollux’ horse.

323 at non squamoso labuntur uentre cerastae, Itala portentis nec furit unda nouis; non hic Andromedae resonant pro matre catenae, nec tremis Ausonias, Phoebe fugate, dapes, 30 nec cuiquam absentes arserunt in caput ignes exitium nato matre mouente suo; Penthea non saeuae uenantur in arbore Bacchae, nec soluit Danaas subdita cerua ratis; cornua nec ualuit curuare in paelice Iuno 35 aut faciem turpi dedecorare boue; arboreasque cruces Sinis, et non hospita Grais saxa, et curtatas in sua fata trabes. haec tibi, Tulle, parens, haec est pulcherrima sedes, hic tibi pro digna gente petendus honos, 40 hic tibi ad eloquium ciues, hic ampla nepotum spes et uenturae coniugis aptus amor.

324 BOOK THREE POEM 3.22

But no horned snakes slither on scaly bellies, no Italian wave rages with strange monsters. Not here do Andromeda’s chains rattle because of her mother, and you don’t tremble, Phoebus, turning away from Ausonian feasts, nor did long-absent ﬁres burn on the head, a mother triggering her son’s demise. No raging Bacchantes hunt Pentheus in a tree, and a substituted deer does not loose the Danaan rafts; Juno was not able to bend horns onto a concubine or besmirch her face with vile cowness. No Sinis contrives arboreal catapults, no rocks are enemies to Greeks, no cut planks seal their fates.

Here is your family, Tullus, this place is most attractive to you. Here, by your worthy family, should you seek honor, here your eloquence serves the public, here ample hope of grandchildren and the ﬁtting love of a future wife.

325

III.xxiii Ego tam doctae nobis periere tabellae, scripta quibus pariter tot periere bona! has quondam nostris manibus detriuerat usus, qui non signatas iussit habere fidem. illae iam sine me norant placare puellas, 5 et quaedam sine me uerba diserta loqui. non illas fixum caras effecerat aurum: uulgari buxo sordida cera fuit. qualescumque mihi semper mansere fideles, semper et effectus promeruere bonos. 10 forsitan haec illis fuerint mandata tabellis: “Irascor quoniam es, lente, moratus heri. an tibi nescio quae uisa est formosior? an tu non bona de nobis crimina ficta iacis?” aut dixit: “Venies hodie, cessabimus una: 15 hospitium tota nocte parauit Amor,” et quaecumque dolens reperit non stulta puella garrula, cum blandis dicitur hora dolis. me miserum, his aliquis rationem scribit auarus et ponit duras inter ephemeridas! 20 quas si quis mihi rettulerit, donabitur auro: quis pro diuitiis ligna retenta uelit? i puer, et citus haec aliqua propone columna, et dominum Esquiliis scribe habitare tuum.

326 BOOK THREE POEM 3.23

3.23 It seems my clever tablets have disappeared and with them so many witty quips!

Use at our hands once wore them out. They demanded recognition, even unsigned. They knew how to placate girls in my absence, and uttered, without me, many persuasive phrases. It wasn’t gold borders that made them dear: they were dirty wax in plain boxwood. The poor things always remained faithful to me, and they always earned good results.

Perhaps those tablets carried the following messages: “I’m so pissed, you loser! Why were you late yesterday? You think you’ve found a hotter girlfriend? You say I cheated on you? Bullshit!” Or they said: “You’ll come today, we’ll relax together: Love has prepared an all-night lodging,” and whatever else the witty, talkative girl achingly devises, when the hour is set for love games.

Poor me: some greedy pig writes his accounts on them and tosses them with his crummy ledgers! If someone’d return them to me, he’d get a big reward: who’d want old ﬁrewood instead of money? Go, boy, and quickly post this on some column, and write that your master lives on the Esquiline.

327

III.xxiv Falsa est ista tuae, mulier, ﬁducia formae, olim oculis nimium facta superba meis. noster amor talis tribuit tibi, Cynthia, laudes: uersibus insignem te pudet esse meis. mixtam te uaria laudaui saepe ﬁgura, 5 ut, quod non esses, esse putaret amor; et color est totiens roseo collatus Eoo, cum tibi quaesitus candor in ore foret: quod mihi non patrii poterant auertere amici, eluere aut uasto Thessala saga mari. 10 haec ego non ferro, non igne coactus, et ipsa naufragus Aegaea uera fatebor aqua: correptus saeuo Veneris torrebar aeno; uinctus eram uersas in mea terga manus. ecce coronatae portum tetigere carinae, 15 traiectae Syrtes, ancora iacta mihi est. nunc demum uasto fessi resipiscimus aestu, uulneraque ad sanum nunc coiere mea.

Mens Bona, si qua dea es, tua me in sacraria dono! exciderant surdo tot mea uota Ioui. 20

328 BOOK THREE POEM 3.24

3.24 Your conﬁdence in your beauty is unfounded, woman, though you were long made arrogant by my stares. My desire showered so many praises on you, Cynthia: it embarasses me that my poetry made you famous. Often I praised you with various beauties, as desire imagined you to be what you were not. How often your color was compared to the radiant dawn star, when in fact the whiteness of your complexion was artiﬁcial.

My family’s friends were not able to avert my madness, nor could Thessalian witchcraft wash it away with a vast sea. I will speak the truth now, under no duress of iron or ﬁre, or from being shipwrecked on the Aegean sea: totally consumed, I was boiling in Venus’ cauldron. I was bound, my hands behind my back. But look! The crowned ships have touched port. The Syrtes are passed—my anchor is cast. Now I recover, worn out from a terrible squall, and now my wounds are healing.

Sound Mind, if such a god exists, I dedicate myself in your sanctuary! So many of my prayers had escaped the notice of deaf Jove.

329

III.xxv Risus eram positis inter conuiuia mensis, et de me poterat quilibet esse loquax. quinque tibi potui seruire fideliter annos: ungue meam morso saepe querere fidem. nil moueor lacrimis: ista sum captus ab arte; 5 semper ab insidiis, Cynthia, flere soles. flebo ego discedens, sed fletum iniuria uincit: tu bene conueniens non sinis ire iugum. limina iam nostris ualeant lacrimantia uerbis, nec tamen irata ianua fracta manu. 10 at te celatis aetas grauis urgeat annis, et ueniat formae ruga sinistra tuae! uellere tum cupias albos a stirpe capillos, a! speculo rugas increpitante tibi, exclusa inque uicem fastus patiare superbos, 15 et quae fecisti facta queraris anus! has tibi fatalis cecinit mea pagina diras: euentum formae disce timere tuae!

330 BOOK THREE POEM 3.25

3.25 I was a joke at dinner parties among the set tables. Anyone could wax loquacious about me. I was able to serve you faithfully for ﬁve years: often you’ll bite your nails and sigh for my ﬁdelity.

I’m not moved by tears: I was trapped by her artiﬁce. Always, Cynthia, your crying has ulterior motives. I will cry as I leave, but my injury outlasts my tears: you won’t allow a couple to go happily on their way.

Goodbye already to the threshold teary from my complaints and the door which my hand, though enraged, did not smash.

May heavy age press you with unnoticed years, may deforming wrinkles overtake your beauty! May you desire to tear your white hairs from the root— Ha! Shouting at your wrinkles in the mirror, and shut out, may you suffer proud contempt in your turn, an old hag, and lament that what you once did is done now to you!

My prophetic page has sung your unlucky fate: learn to fear your beauty’s outcome!

331

BOOK FOUR

Spirits do exist. Death doesn’t end it all: a pale ghost has escaped the conquering pyre . . .

IV.i

Propertius

“Hoc quodcumque uides, hospes, qua maxima Roma est, ante Phrygem Aenean collis et herba fuit; atque ubi Nauali stant sacra Palatia Phoebo, Euandri profugae concubuere boues. ﬁctilibus creuere deis haec aurea templa, 5 nec fuit opprobrio facta sine arte casa; Tarpeiusque pater nuda de rupe tonabat, et Tiberis nostris aduena bubus erat. qua gradibus domus ista Remi se sustulit, olim unus erat fratrum maxima regna focus. 10 Curia, praetexto quae nunc nitet alta senatu, pellitos habuit, rustica corda, Patres. bucina cogebat priscos ad uerba Quiritis: centum illi in prato saepe senatus erat. nec sinuosa cauo pendebant uela theatro, 15 pulpita sollemnis non oluere crocos. nulli cura fuit externos quaerere diuos, cum tremeret patrio pendula turba sacro; annuaque accenso celebrata Parilia faeno, qualia nunc curto lustra nouantur equo. 20 Vesta coronatis pauper gaudebat asellis, ducebant macrae uilia sacra boues. parua saginati lustrabant compita porci, pastor et ad calamos exta litabat ouis.

334 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

4.1

Propertius

“All this you see, my friend, the magniﬁcent heart of Rome, was hill and grass before Phrygian Aeneas. Where you see the Palatine, sacred to Phoebus of Ships, there lay the wandering cattle of Evander. From clay gods these golden temples grew. A modest house was no disgrace. The Tarpeian father used to thunder from a naked cliff, and the Tiber was a stranger to our herds. Where that temple of Remus lies on top of those steps, a single hearth was the brothers’ entire kingdom. The Curia, which now shines on high, the Senate in purple-edged togas, held then our rustic Fathers, clad in skins. A shepherd’s horn used to call the citizens to meetings: a hundred in a meadow often were the Senate.

No billowing sheets spread over a cavernous theater; the stage did not smell of ritual saffron. No one was looking for foreign gods when a suspended group trembled at the ancestral rites. The Parilia was celebrated annually with a hay-burning, just as now puriﬁcations are renewed by the docking of a horse. A poor Vesta would rejoice in crowned donkeys. Skinny cattle used to lead the meager processions. Fattened pigs would purify dusty crossroads. A shepherd would offer a sheep’s entrails to the sound of his pipe.

335

uerbera pellitus saetosa mouebat arator, 25 unde licens Fabius sacra Lupercus habet. nec rudis infestis miles radiabat in armis: miscebant usta proelia nuda sude. prima galeritus posuit praetoria Lycmon, magnaque pars Tatio rerum erat iter ouis. 30 hinc Tities Ramnesque uiri Luceresque Soloni, quattuor hinc albos Romulus egit equos. quippe suburbanae paruae minus urbe Bouillae et, qui nunc nulli, maxima turba Gabi. et stetit Alba potens, albae suis omine nata, 35 hinc ubi Fidenas longa erat isse uia. nil patrium nisi nomen habet Romanus alumnus: sanguinis altricem non pudet esse lupam. huc melius profugos misisti, Troia, Penatis; heu quali uecta est Dardana puppis aue! 40 iam bene spondebant tunc omina, quod nihil illam laeserat abiegni uenter apertus equi, cum pater in nati trepidus ceruice pependit, et uerita est umeros urere ﬂamma pios. tunc animi uenere Deci Brutique secures; 45 uexit et ipsa sui Caesaris arma Venus, arma resurgentis portans uictricia Troiae:

felix terra tuos cepit, Iule, deos; si modo Auernalis tremulae cortina Sibyllae

336 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

The skin-clad plowman waved bristly thongs: that’s where the Fabian Luperci get their licentious rites.

The simple soldier didn’t glow in warlike armor: unarmed battles were engaged with a burned pike. Lycmon, in a farmer’s cap, set ﬁrst his general’s tent, and the majority of Tatius’ feats were among the sheep. From these came the Tities, bellicose Ramenes, and Luceres of Solonium, with these Romulus drove the four white horses. Of course, the suburb Bovillae was then no smaller than the city, and the Gabi, who no longer exist, were a huge crowd. Alba stood strong, born with the omen of a white sow, and it was a long journey from here to Fidenae.

The Roman nursling has only the name of those ancestors: it’s no shame the wolf was nourisher of his blood.

You did well, Troy, to send your homeless Penates here: oh, the Dardan ship was sped by such an augury! Already, the omens boded well, since the opened belly of the wooden horse hadn’t destroyed that company when the anxious father hung from his son’s neck, and the ﬂame was afraid to burn his pious shoulders. Then came Decius’ spirit and the power of Brutus, and Venus herself brought the weapons of her Caesar, carrying the victorious arms of Troy resurgent.

A happy land, Iulus, received your gods, since the tripod of the Sibyl trembling near Avernus

337

dixit Auentino rura pianda Remo, 50 aut si Pergameae sero rata carmina uatis longaeuum ad Priami uera fuere caput: ‘uertite equum, Danai! male uincitis! Ilia tellus uiuet, et huic cineri Iuppiter arma dabit.’ optima nutricum nostris lupa Martia rebus, 55 qualia creuerunt moenia lacte tuo! moenia namque pio coner disponere uersu: ei mihi, quod nostro est paruus in ore sonus! sed tamen exiguo quodcumque e pectore riui ﬂuxerit, hoc patriae seruiet omne meae. 60

Ennius hirsuta cingat sua dicta corona: mi folia ex hedera porrige, Bacche, tua, ut nostris tumefacta superbiat Vmbria libris, Vmbria Romani patria Callimachi! scandentis quisque cernit de uallibus arces, 65 ingenio muros aestimet ille meo! Roma, faue, tibi surgit opus, date candida ciues omina, et inceptis dextera cantet auis! 68 dicam: ‘Troia, cades, et Troica Roma resurges,’ 87 et maris et terrae longa sepulcra canam; 88 sacra diesque canam et cognomina prisca locorum: 69 has meus ad metas sudet oportet equus.”

338 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1 spoke to Aventine Remus of lands to be puriﬁed and the songs of the Pergamean seer, too late proved, truly sounded to Priam’s aged head: ‘Turn back the horse, o Danaans! You poorly conquer! The Ilian land will survive, and to these cinders Jupiter will grant potency.’

Wolf of Mars, best possible nurturer of our affairs, what battlements grew from your milk! battlements I’ll try to lay down in solemn verse: god help me, for the sound in my mouth is tender! Still, whatever stream should ﬂow from my narrow breast, all of it will serve my nation.

Let Ennius gird his utterances with a shaggy crown: to me, Bacchus, extend your leaves of ivy, that Umbria, swelling with my books, be proud, Umbria, land of the Roman Callimachus! Whoever sees the citadels ascending from the valleys will value their walls by my genius! Rome, look on me with favor, for you this opus surges; citizens, grant goodwill, and may the bird sing propitiously to my beginnings! I’ll say: ‘Troy, you will fall, and Trojan Rome, you will rise,’ and I’ll sing the endless tombs of sea and of land. Rites and holy days I’ll sing, and ancient names of places: to these ends it’s right my horse should sweat.”

339

Horos

“Quo ruis imprudens, uage, dicere fata, Properti? non sunt a dextro condita fila colo. accersis lacrimas cantans, auersus Apollo: poscis ab inuita uerba pigenda lyra. certa feram certis auctoribus, aut ego uates 75 nescius aerata signa mouere pila. me creat Archytae suboles Babylonius Orops Horon, et a proauo ducta Conone domus. di mihi sunt testes non degenerasse propinquos, inque meis libris nil prius esse fide. 80 nunc pretium fecere deos et (fallitur auro Iuppiter) obliquae signa iterata rotae, felicesque Iouis stellas Martisque rapaces et graue Saturni sidus in omne caput; quid moueant Pisces animosaque signa Leonis, 85 lotus et Hesperia quid Capricornus aqua. dixi ego, cum geminos produceret Arria natos 89 (illa dabat natis arma uetante deo): 90 non posse ad patrios sua pila referre Penatis: nempe meam firmant nunc duo busta fidem. quippe Lupercus eques, dum saucia protegit ora, heu sibi prolapso non bene cauit equo; Gallus at, in castris dum credita signa tuetur, 95 concidit ante aquilae rostra cruenta suae:

340 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

Horos

“Propertius, why do you rush imprudently, vaguely, to tell fortunes? Your threads are not composed on the correct distaff. You invite tears when you sing. Apollo is averse. You seek words you’ll regret from an unwilling lyre.

My predictions and my sources are reliable, or else I am a seer unable to move signs on the bronze ball. Babylonian Orops, Archytas’ progeny, bore me, Horos, our house descended from our ancestor Conon. The gods are my witnesses that I have not dishonored my forebears, and in my books there is nothing before faith. Some have turned the gods to proﬁt (Jupiter’s will shammed for money) and the yearly elliptical paths, the propitious stars of Jove, Mars’ rapacious ones, the grave constellation of Saturn, on any head, Pisces’ inﬂuence and the spirited sign of the Lion, and Capricorn, bathed in the Hesperian sea.

I declared, when Arria was seeing off her twins (she was arming her sons, against the god’s wishes): they wouldn’t bring back their spears to their ancestral Penates. As you know, two tombs now conﬁrm my prediction. The horseman Lupercus, protecting his wounded face, didn’t pay attention as his horse slipped, and Gallus, as he gazes on camps’ trusted standards, falls before his eagle’s bloody beak.

341 fatales pueri, duo funera matris auarae! uera, sed inuito, contigit ista fides. idem ego, cum Cinarae traheret Lucina dolores, et facerent uteri pondera lenta moram, 100 ‘Iunoni facito: uotum impetrabile’ dixi: illa parit: libris est data palma meis! hoc neque harenosum Libyae Iouis explicat antrum, aut sibi commissos fibra locuta deos, aut si quis motas cornicis senserit alas, 105 umbraue quae magicis mortua prodit aquis: aspicienda uia est caeli uerusque per astra trames, et ab zonis quinque petenda fides. exemplum graue erit Calchas: namque Aulide soluit ille bene haerentis ad pia saxa ratis; 110 idem Agamemnoniae ferrum ceruice puellae tinxit, et Atrides uela cruenta dedit; nec rediere tamen Danai: tu diruta fletum supprime et Euboicos respice, Troia, sinus! Nauplius ultores sub noctem porrigit ignis, 115 et natat exuuiis Graecia pressa suis. uictor Oiliade, rape nunc et dilige uatem, quam uetat auelli ueste Minerua sua! hactenus historiae: nunc ad tua deuehar astra: incipe tu lacrimis aequus adesse nouis. 120 Vmbria te notis antiqua Penatibus edit— mentior? an patriae tangitur ora tuae?—

342 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

Ill-fated boys, two funerals for a greedy mother! Accurate fulﬁllment, though unwillingly, touches these affairs.

I was right again when Lucina was bringing pain to Cinara, and intense pressure weighed on her uterus. ‘Make a vow to Juno,’ I said. ‘It will be granted.’ She gives birth: my books get the prize! Jove’s sandy cave in Libya cannot unravel this or entrails that explain the gods’ will or someone who can interpret moving wings of a crow or a deathly shade that appears in magic waters. The way to be observed is the true path through the stars of the sky; conﬁrmation can be sought in the ﬁve zones.

A serious example will be Calchas: he released from Aulis the boats mercifully stuck to the rocks. That man stained the iron at the neck of Agamemnon’s daughter, and Atrides raised bloody sails. Nor did the Danai return: Troy, overthrown, suppress your crying and regard the Euboean bays! Nauplius spreads vengeful ﬁres in the night, and Greece ﬂoats, weighed down by its spoils.

Victor Oliades, seize now and rape the prophetess whom Minerva forbids to be taken from her side!

So much for stories: now I would be transported to your star. You try to be calm amid new sorrows. Ancient Umbria with its well-known Penates bore you. Do I lie? Or has the region of your land been touched?

343 qua nebulosa cauo rorat Meuania campo, et lacus aestiuis intepet Vmber aquis, scandentisque Asisi consurgit uertice murus, 125 murus ab ingenio notior ille tuo. ossaque legisti non illa aetate legenda patris et in tenuis cogeris ipse lares: nam tua cum multi uersarent rura iuuenci, abstulit excultas pertica tristis opes. 130 mox ubi bulla rudi dimissa est aurea collo, matris et ante deos libera sumpta toga, tum tibi pauca suo de carmine dictat Apollo et uetat insano uerba tonare Foro: ‘at tu ﬁnge elegos, fallax opus: haec tua castra! 135 scribat ut exemplo cetera turba tuo. militiam Veneris blandis patiere sub armis, et Veneris pueris utilis hostis eris.’ nam tibi uictrices quascumque labore parasti, eludit palmas una puella tuas: 140 et bene cum ﬁxum mento discusseris uncum, nil erit hoc: rostro te premet ansa suo. illius arbitrio noctem lucemque uidebis: gutta quoque ex oculis non nisi iussa cadet. nec mille excubiae nec te signata iuuabunt 145 limina: persuasae fallere rima sat est.

344 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

As misty Mevania wets its hollow field and lake Umber warms with summer waters, the rampart of towering Assisi surges from a peak, that rampart made more famous by your genius. You gathered bones that should not have been gathered so young— your father’s—and were yourself forced into modest quarters: for when countless bulls were plowing your fields, the dull measuring rod took away refinements of wealth.

Soon, when the golden amulet was removed from your virgin neck and you assumed the toga libera before your mother’s gods, then Apollo dictated a few tunes from his songbook and forbade you to shout poetry, insane, in the Forum: ‘Fashion elegies, a tricky business: that’s your camp! The rest of the crowd should follow your example. You’ll serve Venus’ militia with the weapons of charm; you’ll be a useful opponent for Venus’ boys.’

However many femmes fatales you have laboriously obtained, one girl eludes your clutches. You throw off the well-set hook from your chin. To no avail: the gaff presses you with its point. By her injunction will you see night and daylight: no tear will fall from your eyes without orders. Countless night watches and marked thresholds will bring you no satisfaction: a crack is enough for a girl convinced to cheat.

345 nunc tua uel mediis puppis luctetur in undis, uel licet armatis hostis inermis eas, uel tremefacta cauo tellus diducat hiatum: octipedis Cancri terga sinistra time!”

346 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.1

Your ship may struggle on the high seas, you may wander unarmed among armed enemies, the hollow rumbling earth may open a chasm: but fear the unlucky back of the eight-footed Crab!”

347

IV.ii “Qvi mirare meas tot in uno corpore formas, accipe Vertumni signa paterna dei.

Tuscus ego: Tuscis orior: nec paenitet inter proelia Volsinios deseruisse focos. haec me turba iuuat, nec templo laetor eburno: 5 Romanum satis est posse uidere Forum. hac quondam Tiberinus iter faciebat, et aiunt remorum auditos per uada pulsa sonos: at postquam ille suis tantum concessit alumnis, Vertumnus uerso dicor ab amne deus. 10 seu, quia uertentis fructum praecepimus anni, Vertumni rursus credis id esse sacrum? prima mihi uariat liuentibus uua racemis, et coma lactenti spicea fruge tumet: hic dulcis cerasos, hic autumnalia pruna 15 cernis et aestiuo mora rubere die; insitor hic soluit pomosa uota corona, cum pirus inuito stipite mala tulit. mendax fama, noces: alius mihi nominis index: de se narranti tu modo crede deo. 20 opportuna mea est cunctis natura ﬁguris: in quamcumque uoles uerte, decorus ero. indue me Cois, ﬁam non dura puella: meque uirum sumpta quis neget esse toga?

348 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.2

4.2 “You who wonder at my many shapes in one body: learn the origins of the god Vertumnus.

I’m Tuscan. I rise from the Tuscans, and I don’t regret having abandoned the Volsinian hearths during the war. This crowd pleases me. I don’t enjoy an ivory temple: to be able to see the Roman Forum is enough.

Tiberinus once used to journey here. They say that sounds of oars were heard in the batted wave: but afterward he yielded much to his followers; I am called the god Vertumnus from the stream’s reversal.

Or, since I receive first fruit at the year’s turning, do you believe it’s sacred to Vertumnus? The first grape mellows for me into purple clusters, and the hairy grain swells with milky fruit. Here you see sweet cherries, there autumnal plums reddening with the mulberry on a summer’s day. The grafter here fulfilled his vows with a crown of fruit, when the pear tree bore apples on an alien branch.

Lying gossip, you do harm. Another explanation for my name: you must believe a god when he tells his story.

My nature is opportune for all forms: turn it into whichever you wish, I’ll pull it off. Dress me in Coan ﬁnery, I’ll become a delicate girl: and who would deny that I’m a man, once my toga is ripped off?

349

da falcem et torto frontem mihi comprime faeno: 25 iurabis nostra gramina secta manu. arma tuli quondam et, memini, laudabar in illis: corbis in imposito pondere messor eram. sobrius ad lites: at cum est imposta corona, clamabis capiti uina subisse meo. 30 cinge caput mitra, speciem furabor Iacchi; furabor Phoebi, si modo plectra dabis. cassibus impositis uenor: sed harundine sumpta fautor plumoso sum deus aucupio. est etiam aurigae specie Vertumnus, et eius 35 traicit alterno qui leue pondus equo. suppetat hoc, piscis calamo praedabor, et ibo mundus demissis institor in tunicis. pastor me ad baculum possum curuare, uel idem sirpiculis medio puluere ferre rosam. 40 nam quid ego adiciam, de quo mihi maxima fama est, hortorum in manibus dona probata meis? caeruleus cucumis tumidoque cucurbita uentre me notat et iunco brassica uincta leui; nec ﬂos ullus hiat pratis, quin ille decenter 45 impositus fronti langueat ante meae. at mihi, quod formas unus uertebar in omnis, nomen ab euentu patria lingua dedit; et tu, Roma, meis tribuisti praemia Tuscis, (unde hodie Vicus nomina Tuscus habet), 50

350 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.2

Give me a sickle and tie back my hair with twisted hay: you’ll swear the grass was cut by my hand. I bore arms once, and, as I remember, I was praised in them. With a heavy basket in one hand, I was the reaper. Sober in litigation: but when the drinking crown’s put on, you’ll shout that the wine has gone to my head. Put a miter on my head, I’ll steal the look of Iacchus; I’ll steal Phoebus’, if only you’ll give me a plectrum. When the nets are set, I hunt: but when the fowling stick’s taken up, I’m the patron god of feathery fowling. There is also Vertumnus in the guise of charioteer, who casts his weight lightly from horse to horse.

Given the chance, I’ll steal ﬁsh with a rod, and I’ll go a slick huckster in loose tunic. A shepherd, I can bend myself to the staff or else carry my rose on the dusty way with asafetida.

What can I add? My greatest fame? Choice presents from gardens in my hands? The dark green cucumber marks me, and squash with its swelling belly, and cabbage bound with a slender reed. Not one ﬂower opens in the meadows, without ﬁrst languishing, having been properly set before my eyes.

Because I was turning, one being, into all these forms, our native tongue gave me my name from this occurence. And you, Rome, awarded honors to my Tuscans, (which is how Tuscan Way gets its name today),

351 tempore quo sociis uenit Lycomedius armis atque Sabina feri contudit arma Tati. uidi ego labentis acies et tela caduca, atque hostis turpi terga dedisse fugae. sed facias, diuum Sator, ut Romana per aeuum 55 transeat ante meos turba togata pedes. sex superant uersus: te, qui ad uadimonia curris, non moror: haec spatiis ultima creta meis. stipes acernus eram, properanti falce dolatus, ante Numam grata pauper in urbe deus. 60 at tibi, Mamurri, formae caelator aenae, tellus artiﬁces ne terat Osca manus, qui me tam docilis potuisti fundere in usus. unum opus est, operi non datur unus honos.”

352 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.2 at the time when the Lycomedians came with allied arms and smashed the Sabine arms of cruel Tatius. I saw the battle lines broken and weapons fallen, and the enemy gave their backs in cowardly ﬂight. May you see to it, divine Planter, that the toga’d Roman throng pass forever before my feet.

Six lines remain: I don’t delay you, who hurry to your court date: this is the ﬁnal mark for my course. I was a maple sapling, pruned by the eager axe, a poor god before Numa in this pleasing city. But to you, Mamurius, engraver of bronze elegance, may the Oscan earth not bruise your skilled hands, you who were able to cast me in such adaptable usages. It is a single statue—the rites performed are many.”

353

IV.iii “Haec Arethusa suo mittit mandata Lycotae— cum totiens absis, si potes esse meus. si qua tamen tibi lecturo pars oblita derit, haec erit e lacrimis facta litura meis: aut si qua incerto fallet te littera tractu, 5 signa meae dextrae iam morientis erunt. te modo uiderunt iteratos Bactra per ortus, te modo munito Sericus hostis equo, hibernique Getae, pictoque Britannia curru, tunsus et Eoa discolor Indus aqua. 10 haecne marita ﬁdes et pactae tum mihi noctes, cum rudis urgenti bracchia uicta dedi? quae mihi deductae fax omen praetulit, illa traxit ab euerso lumina nigra rogo; et Stygio sum sparsa lacu, nec recta capillis 15 uitta data est: nupsi non comitante deo. omnibus heu portis pendent noxia uota: texitur haec castris quarta lacerna tuis. occidat, immerita qui carpsit ab arbore uallum et struxit querulas rauca per ossa tubas, 20 dignior oblique funem qui torqueat Ocno, aeternusque tuam pascat, aselle, famem! dic mihi, num teneros urit lorica lacertos? num grauis imbellis atterit hasta manus? haec noceant potius, quam dentibus ulla puella 25 det mihi plorandas per tua colla notas!

354 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.3

4.3 “Arethusa sends these instructions to her Lycotas— (since you’re so often away) if you can be mine. If some parts should come to you smeared, these blots will have been made by my tears: or if a certain letter should escape you with uncertain stroke, these will be signs that my right hand is already fading.

Only Bactra has seen you on a second Eastern campaign, only the Seric foe with his armored horse, the wintry Getae, Britannia with its painted chariot and the dark Indian, lapped by Oriental water. Was this the marriage vow, these the nights promised me when, through inexperience, I was defeated and gave my arms to his advances? A bad omen, the marriage torch for my procession: it got its gloomy light from a collapsed pyre. I was sprinkled with Stygian water, my headband was not put on my hair correctly: I married without the presence of the god of marriage.

My thank-offerings hang on all the gates, and bring no peace: this fourth overcoat is woven for your camps. Let him die, who snatched a stake from a guiltless tree and built plaintive trumpets from clanging bones! More than Ocnus, he deserves to twist rope, sitting sideways, and to feed your hunger, little donkey, forever! Tell me, doesn’t the breastplate chafe your tender arms? Doesn’t the heavy spear strip your unwarlike hands? Better you suffer those infelicities, though, than that some girl should make me cry, leaving marks on your neck with her teeth!

355 diceris et macie uultum tenuasse: sed opto e desiderio sit color iste meo. at mihi cum noctes induxit uesper amaras, si qua relicta iacent, osculor arma tua; 30 tum queror in toto non sidere pallia lecto, lucis et auctores non dare carmen auis. noctibus hibernis castrensia pensa laboro et Tyria in chlamydas uellera secta tuas; et disco, qua parte ﬂuat uincendus Araxes, 35 quot sine aqua Parthus milia currat equus; cogor et e tabula pictos ediscere mundos, qualis et haec docti sit positura dei, quae tellus sit lenta gelu, quae putris ab aestu, uentus in Italiam qui bene uela ferat. 40 assidet una soror, curis et pallida nutrix peierat hiberni temporis esse moras. felix Hippolyte! nuda tulit arma papilla et texit galea barbara molle caput. Romanis utinam patuissent castra puellis! 45 essem militiae sarcina ﬁda tuae, nec me tardarent Scythiae iuga, cum Pater altas astricto in glaciem frigore nectit aquas. omnis amor magnus, sed aperto in coniuge maior: hanc Venus, ut uiuat, uentilat ipsa facem. 50 nam mihi quo Poenis nunc purpura fulgeat ostris

356 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.3

You say your face is wasting away: but I hope that color is from desire for me.

When evening covers me in bitter nights, I kiss whatever weapons of yours are lying around. Then I moan, tossing the covers from side to side, begging the birds, who signal the day, to give song. On winter nights, I labor at my camp-spinning duties and the special Tyrian wool shorn for your overcoats. I study where the Araxes, our next objective, ﬂows, and how many miles the Parthian horse can run without water. I’m forced to memorize places depicted on a map, the way they’ve been laid out by its skillful creator: which land is slow with ice, which rotten from heat, which wind may quickly bring sails to Italy. A sister keeps me company, and a nurse, pallid from worry, humors me, saying your delays are due to winter weather.

Lucky Hippolyte! She bore arms with naked breast and covered her soft head in a primitive helmet. If only the camps were open to Roman girls! I’d be the faithful pack on your campaign! The Scythian mountains wouldn’t slow me down, when the Father imprisons deep waters in ice with tightening cold.

Every love is great, but in open marriage greater: this ﬂame Venus herself fans, that it may live. Why now would purple clothes glow on me with Punic hues

357

crystallusque meas ornet aquosa manus? omnia surda tacent, rarisque assueta kalendis uix aperit clausos una puella Lares, Craugidos et catulae uox est mihi grata querentis: 55 illa tui partem uindicat una toro.

ﬂore sacella tego, uerbenis compita uelo, et crepat ad ueteres herba Sabina focos. siue in ﬁnitimo gemuit stans noctua tigno, seu uoluit tangi parca lucerna mero, 60 illa dies hornis caedem denuntiat agnis, succinctique calent ad noua lucra popae. ne, precor, ascensis tanti sit gloria Bactris, raptaue odorato carbasa lina duci, plumbea cum tortae sparguntur pondera fundae, 65 subdolus et uersis increpat arcus equis! sed (tua sic domitis Parthae telluris alumnis pura triumphantis hasta sequatur equos) incorrupta mei conserua foedera lecti! hac ego te sola lege redisse uelim: 70 armaque cum tulero portae uotiua Capenae, subscribam SALVO GRATA PVELLA VIRO.”

358 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.3 and watery crystal embellish my hands? Everything lies silent, and one girl, used to rare visits, scarcely opens the closed doors once in a month. The voice of my pup Woofer complaining is sweet to me: she claims your part of the bed for herself.

I cover the chapels with flowers, I fill the crossroads with vervain. The Sabine herb rattles in the ancestral hearths. When the night owl has hooted, perched on a nearby log, or the stingy lamps ask to be fed with wine, may that day announce slaughter to horned sheep and the girded temple assistants get hot at their new profit.

May the glory of storming Bactra be insufﬁcient, I pray, or linen sheets stolen from a perfumed pasha, when leaden weights from the twisted sling rain down, and the treacherous bow rattles from behind horses! But (may your pure spear, once the sons of Parthia have been subdued, follow the triumphant horses): preserve the vows of my bed uncorrupted! By this law alone would I want you to return. When I’ve carried your weapons and votive offering to the Capena gate, I’ll put up a sign: GIRL GRATEFUL HER MAN IS SAFE.”

359

IV.iv Tarpeium scelus et Tarpeiae turpe sepulcrum fabor et antiqui limina capta Iouis. lucus erat felix hederoso conditus antro, multaque natiuis obstrepit arbor aquis, Siluani ramosa domus, quo dulcis ab aestu 5 fistula poturas ire iubebat ouis. hunc Tatius contra uallo praecingit acerno fidaque suggesta castra coronat humo. quid tum Roma fuit, tubicen uicina Curetis cum quateret lento murmure saxa Iouis? 10 atque ubi nunc terris dicuntur iura subactis, stabant Romano pila Sabina Foro. murus erant montes: ubi nunc est Curia, saepta; bellicus ex illo fonte bibebat equus. hinc Tarpeia deae fontem libauit: at illi 15 urgebat medium fictilis una caput. et satis una malae potuit mors esse puellae, quae uoluit flammas fallere, Vesta, tuas? uidit harenosis Tatium proludere campis pictaque per flauas arma leuare iubas: 20 obstipuit regis facie et regalibus armis, interque oblitas excidit urna manus. saepe illa immeritae causata est omina lunae, et sibi tingendas dixit in amne comas:

360 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.4

4.4 Tarpeia’s crime and Tarpeia’s ugly death, the betrayal of ancient Jove’s home: these make my story.

It was a happy grove on top of an ivy-laden cavern, and its many trees rumbled with native waters, forest home of Silvanus, where the sweet pipe would call sheep from the heat to drink. Opposite this grove, Tatius surrounds his well-supplied camp with maple stakes and crowns it with a safety zone of piled earth.

What was Rome then, when the Curesian hornsman shook the nearby rocks of Jove with his low blast? Where oaths are now taken, the terrain all landscaped, Sabine javelins were standing in the Roman Forum. Mountains were the walls: where the Curia is now were sheepfolds; a warlike steed was drinking from that spring. From it, Tarpeia drew water for the goddess: an earthen jug was balancing on her head.

Was one death enough for such an evil girl, who was willing to deceive your ﬂames, Vesta?

She saw Tatius sparring in the sandy ﬁelds, lifting embellished weapons over golden manes: she was dumbstruck at the king’s beauty and royal weaponry, and the jug fell between her forgetful hands. Often, she made up omens for an innocent moon and said she had to wash her hair in the stream:

361

saepe tulit blandis argentea lilia Nymphis, 25 Romula ne faciem laederet hasta Tati: dumque subit primo Capitolia nubila fumo, rettulit hirsutis bracchia secta rubis, et sua Tarpeia residens ita ﬂeuit ab arce uulnera, uicino non patienda Ioui: 30

“Ignes castrorum et Tatiae praetoria turmae et formosa oculis arma Sabina meis, o utinam ad uestros sedeam captiua Penatis, dum captiua mei conspicer esse Tati! Romani montes, et montibus addita Roma, 35 et ualeat probro Vesta pudenda meo: ille equus, ille meos in castra reponet amores, cui Tatius dextras collocat ipse iubas! quid mirum in patrios Scyllam saeuisse capillos, candidaque in saeuos inguina uersa canis? 40 prodita quid mirum fraterni cornua monstri, cum patuit lecto stamine torta uia? quantum ego sum Ausoniis crimen factura puellis, improba uirgineo lecta ministra foco! Pallados exstinctos si quis mirabitur ignis, 45 ignoscat: lacrimis spargitur ara meis. cras, ut rumor ait, tota potabitur urbe: tu cape spinosi rorida terga iugi. lubrica tota uia est et perﬁda: quippe tacentis fallaci celat limite semper aquas. 50

362 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.4 often, she brought silver lilies to the seductive Nymphs, that Romulus’ spear wouldn’t harm Tatius’ beauty: and when she ascended the cloudy Capitoline at the ﬁrst ﬁres, she arrived with arms scratched by blackberry brambles, and settling down on the Tarpeian height, she mourned her wounds, which nearby Jove should not have allowed:

“Campﬁres and guards of Tatius’ unit, and Sabine weapons delightful to my eyes, oh, if I could be a captive in your kingdom, provided I’ll be known to be the captive of my Tatius! Roman hills, and Rome built on those hills, and Vesta, who must be outraged by my lasciviousness—goodbye: that horse whose lucky mane Tatius himself grooms— he will bring my love with him to the camps!

Is it any wonder Scylla raged against her father’s hair and had her beautiful genitals changed to raging dogs? Is it any wonder the horns of the fraternal monster were betrayed when a torturous path was deciphered by following a thread? How often I’m tempted to commit a crime against Ausonian maids, pure guardian entrusted with the virginal hearth! If anyone should wonder at the extinguishing of Pallas’ ﬂame, let him forgive it: the altar is sprinkled with my tears.

Tomorrow, as rumor has it, there will be drinking throughout the city: Capture the dewy backs of the thorny ridge. The whole way is slippery and treacherous: for it always hides silent waters on its deceptive path.

363 o utinam magicae nossem cantamina Musae! haec quoque formoso lingua tulisset opem. te toga picta decet, non quem sine matris honore nutrit inhumanae dura papilla lupae. sic hospes patria metuar regina sub aula: 55 dos tibi non humilis prodita Roma uenit. si minus, at raptae ne sint impune Sabinae, me rape et alterna lege repende uices! commissas acies ego possum soluere nupta: uos medium palla foedus inite mea. 60 adde, Hymenaee, modos: tubicen, fera murmura conde: credite, uestra meus molliet arma torus. et iam quarta canit uenturam bucina lucem, ipsaque in Oceanum sidera lapsa cadunt. experiar somnum, de te mihi somnia quaeram: 65 fac uenias oculis umbra benigna meis.” dixit, et incerto permisit bracchia somno, nescia se furiis accubuisse nouis. nam Vesta, Iliacae felix tutela fauillae, culpam alit et plures condit in ossa faces. 70 illa ruit, qualis celerem prope Thermodonta Strymonis abscisso pectus aperta sinu. urbi festus erat (dixere Parilia patres), hic primus coepit moenibus esse dies, annua pastorum conuiuia, lusus in urbe, 75 cum pagana madent fercula diuitiis,

364 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.4

If only I knew the incantations of the Muse of magic! This tongue also would bring aide to a beau. The decorated toga beﬁts you, who were not nourished by the hard teat of an inhuman wolf, lacking a legitimate mother. In this way, may I be feared, a foreign queen in my native hall: a lofty dowry comes to you—Rome betrayed. Or at least don’t let the rape of the Sabines go unavenged: rape me and take recompense, under law of retaliation! Married, I can dissolve the entrenched lines: you make a pact of reconciliation by my wedding cloak.

Hymenaeus, bring your music: trumpeter, begin your wild rumbling: believe me, my bed will soften all your weapons. Already the fourth horn-blast sings the coming light, and the stars, slipping, fall into the Ocean. I will try to sleep: I want to dream about you: you should come, a friendly shadow, to my eyes.”

She spoke and delivered her arms to ﬁtful sleep, not knowing that she was sleeping with new furies. For Vesta, propitious guardian of Troy’s ember, feeds her criminal impulse and sets many ﬁres in her bones, and she rushes like a Strymonid near swift Thermodon, ripping her gown and revealing her breasts.

It was a feast day in the city (the fathers called it Parilia), the ﬁrst day walls were begun for the city, an annual farmers’ celebration, a street party, when rustic trays overﬂow with riches

365 cumque super raros faeni ﬂammantis aceruos traicit immundos ebria turba pedes.

Romulus excubias decreuit in otia solui atque intermissa castra silere tuba. 80 hoc Tarpeia suum tempus rata conuenit hostem: pacta ligat, pactis ipsa futura comes. mons erat ascensu dubius festoque remissus: nec mora, uocalis occupat ense canis. omnia praebebant somnos: sed Iuppiter unus 85 decreuit poenis inuigilare suis. prodiderat portaeque ﬁdem patriamque iacentem, nubendique petit quem uelit ipsa diem. at Tatius (neque enim sceleri dedit hostis honorem) “Nube,” ait, “et regni scande cubile mei!” 90 dixit, et ingestis comitum super obruit armis. haec, uirgo, ofﬁciis dos erat apta tuis. a duce Tarpeio mons est cognomen adeptus: o uigil, iniustae praemia sortis habes.

366 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.4 and the drunken crowd shoots dirty feet over scattered piles of burning hay.

Romulus decreed that all sentries be free to celebrate, and the camps lay silent, the trumpet set aside. Tarpeia, thinking this is her moment, meets the enemy. She makes a pact: she herself will accompany her new allies. The mountain was difﬁcult to climb, and unguarded during the festivities: right away, he attacks some barking dogs with his sword. Everything looked like sleep: but Jupiter alone decided to keep watch, to mete out his punishments. She had betrayed her loyalty to the gate and her nation lying there, and she asked for the day of marriage she desired. Tatius (for the enemy brought no honor to his crime) said, “Marry, and ascend my royal bed!” He spoke and buried her utterly beneath the piled shields of his soldiers. This, maiden, was a ﬁtting dowry for your actions.

The hill got its name from Captain Tarpeius: guard-girl, you have the reward of a treacherous watch.

367

IV.v Terra tuum spinis obducat, lena, sepulcrum, et tua, quod non uis, sentiat umbra sitim; nec sedeant cineri Manes, et Cerberus ultor turpia ieiuno terreat ossa sono! docta uel Hippolytum Veneri mollire negantem, 5 concordique toro pessima semper auis, Penelopen quoque neglecto rumore mariti nubere lasciuo cogeret Antinoo. illa uelit, poterit magnes non ducere ferrum, et uolucris nidis esse nouerca suis. 10 quippe et, Collinas ad fossam mouerit herbas, stantia currenti diluerentur aqua: audax cantatae leges imponere lunae et sua nocturno fallere terga lupo, posset ut intentos astu caecare maritos, 15 cornicum immeritas eruit ungue genas consuluitque striges nostro de sanguine, et in me hippomanes fetae semina legit equae. exercebat opus uerbis heu blanda, perinde saxosam atque terat sedula gutta uiam: 20

“Si te Eoa Dorozantum iuuat aurea ripa, et quae sub Tyria concha superbit aqua, Eurypylique placet Coae textura Mineruae, sectaque ab Attalicis putria signa toris,

368 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.5

4.5 May the earth cover your grave with thorns, procuress, and your shade suffer from thirst (which you can’t want). May your Manes not come to rest upon your death, and Cerberus the avenger terrify your ugly bones with a low growl!

She was so sly she’d have gotten Hippolytus, who was denying Venus, to soften— she was always the worst bird for a happy bed— and she’d have convinced Penelope to forget about her husband and to marry the licentious Antinous. Should she will it, loadstone will lose its power to attract iron and the mother-bird to be nurturer to her nestlings. And indeed, should she bring Collina’s herbs to the ditch, standing crops would be swept away by rushing water: daring to impose laws of the enchanted moon and to change her back to that of a nocturnal wolf, in order to blind watchful husbands with her skill, she plucked out the eyes of undeserving crows with her nail, and she consulted screech owls about my blood and against me read the hippomanes, growths on a new born foal.

She worked her tricks with words, a smooth one, just as a persistent drip wears away a rock-paved road:

“If the Dorozantes’ golden bank in the East pleases you, and the shell that glistens beneath Tyrian water, and you enjoy the texture of Eurypylus’ Coan Minerva and crumbling designs cut from Attalic couches

369

seu quae palmiferae mittunt uenalia Thebae, 25 murreaque in Parthis pocula cocta focis; sperne ﬁdem, prouolue deos, mendacia uincant, frange et damnosae iura pudicitiae! et simulare uirum pretium facit: utere causis! maior dilata nocte recurret amor. 30 si tibi forte comas uexauerit, utilis ira: post modo mercata pace premendus erit. denique ubi amplexu Venerem promiseris empto, fac simules puros Isidis esse dies. ingerat Aprilis Iole tibi, tundat Amycle 35 natalem Mais Idibus esse tuum. supplex ille sedet—posita tu scribe cathedra quidlibet: has artis si pauet ille, tenes! semper habe morsus circa tua colla recentis, litibus alternis quos putet esse datos. 40 nec te Medeae delectent probra sequacis (nempe tulit fastus ausa rogare prior), sed potius mundi Thais pretiosa Menandri, cum ferit astutos comica moecha Getas. in mores te uerte uiri: si cantica iactat, 45 i comes et uoces ebria iunge tuas. ianitor ad dantis uigilet: si pulset inanis, surdus in obductam somniet usque seram.

370 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.5 or whatever goods palm-bearing Thebes proffers and a cup made of murra, baked in Parthian hearths— spurn ﬁdelity, overturn the gods, let lies triumph, and smash the obligations of damned propriety!

Pretending you’ve got a sugar daddy raises your price: use pretexts! A greater passion will come running back after a night of love postponed. If by chance he has mussed your hair, anger is useful: afterwards, it will be something to press, when peace is bargained for. Finally, when you’ve promised sex at a per-embrace price, pretend these are the celibate days of Isis. Let Iole heap up Aprils, let Amycle hammer out, ‘Her birthday’s on the Ides of May!’

He will sit suppliant—your throne in place, write what you will: if he fears these arts, you’ve got him! Always have recent bite-marks on your neck, which he may surmise were given in back-and-forth wrangling.

Don’t let the invective of an eager Medea delight you (no wonder she brought contempt, daring to be the ﬁrst to ask) but rather worldly Menander’s costly Thais, when the comic adulteress tricks the shrewd Getae. Adapt yourself to the man’s habits: if he belts out songs, be his partner: get drunk and join the chorus. The guard will watch the givers: if a broke guy knocks, let him sleep on, deaf, on the bar across the door.

371 nec tibi displiceat miles non factus amori, nauta nec attrita si ferat aera manu, 50 aut quorum titulus per barbara colla pependit, cretati medio cum saluere foro. aurum spectato, non quae manus afferat aurum! uersibus auditis quid nisi uerba feres? 54 qui uersus, Coae dederit nec munera uestis, 57 istius tibi sit surda sine aere lyra. dum uernat sanguis, dum rugis integer annus, utere, ne quid cras libet ab ore dies! 60 uidi ego odorati uictura rosaria Paesti sub matutino cocta iacere Noto.” his animum nostrae dum uersat Acanthis amicae, per tenuem ossa mihi sunt numerata cutem. sed cape torquatae, Venus o regina, columbae 65 ob meritum ante tuos guttura secta focos: uidi ego rugoso tussim concrescere collo, sputaque per dentis ire cruenta cauos, atque animam in tegetes putrem exspirare paternas: horruit algenti pergula curua foco. 70 exsequiae fuerint rari furtiua capilli uincula et immundo pallida mitra situ, et canis, in nostros nimis experrecta dolores, cum fallenda meo pollice clatra forent.

372 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.5

Don’t let the soldier, not made for love, displease you, nor the sailor, if he’s got worn-out bronze in hand, or those around whose barbarian necks a label hung, when they jumped, chalked up, in the middle of the Forum.

Be on the lookout for gold—not every hand can bring gold! After listening to a lot of poetry, what will you have besides words? Whoever would give verses instead of gifts of Coan vestment, let his moneyless lyre be mute as far as you’re concerned. While the blood is young, while the year is free of wrinkles, make the most of it, before tomorrow wastes your beauty away! I have seen rose gardens that would have surpassed those of fragrant Paestum lying baked beneath the morning Notus.”

With this, while Acanthis sways my girlfriend’s will, my bones can be counted through my meager ﬂesh. Seize, o queen Venus, the throat of the ring dove, duly cut before your hearth: I saw the phlegm congeal on her wrinkled neck and the bloody saliva passing through gaps in her teeth and her rotten breath expire on her paternal mats: her sagging lean-to with its frigid hearth shuddered.

Her funeral will feature stolen bands of scant hair and a yellowing miter in ﬁlthy decay, and a dog, aroused by my excessive suffering, since the bar was always in my way.

373

sit tumulus lenae curto uetus amphora collo: 75 urgeat hunc supra uis, capriﬁce, tua. quisquis amas, scabris hoc bustum caedite saxis, mixtaque cum saxis addite uerba mala!

374 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.5

Let the tomb of the bawd be an old jug with a short neck: may your strength, wild ﬁg tree, press the jug. Whoever you are, lover, smash up this grave with rough rocks, and on top of the rocks, pile a bunch of curses!

375

IV.vi Sacra facit uates: sint ora fauentia sacris, et cadat ante meos icta iuuenca focos. serta Philiteis certet Romana corymbis, et Cyrenaeas urna ministret aquas. costum molle date et blandi mihi turis honores, 5 terque focum circa laneus orbis eat. spargite me lymphis, carmenque recentibus aris tibia Mygdoniis libet eburna cadis. ite procul fraudes, alio sint aere noxae: pura nouum uati laurea mollit iter. 10

Musa, Palatini referemus Apollinis aedem: res est, Calliope, digna fauore tuo. Caesaris in nomen ducuntur carmina: Caesar dum canitur, quaeso, Iuppiter ipse uaces. est Phoebi fugiens Athamana ad litora portus, 15 qua sinus Ioniae murmura condit aquae, Actia Iuleae pelagus monumenta carinae, nautarum uotis non operosa uia. huc mundi coiere manus: stetit aequore moles pinea, nec remis aequa fauebat auis. 20 altera classis erat Teucro damnata Quirino, pilaque feminea turpiter acta manu: hinc Augusta ratis plenis Iouis omine uelis, signaque iam patriae uincere docta suae.

376 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.6

4.6 The poet performs the rites. Let those present respect these rites, and may the struck heifer fall before my hearths. Let a Roman garland compete with Philitean ivy clusters, and let our urn carry Cyrenean waters. Bring me soft spikenard and intoxicating ritual incense. Let the woolen ﬁllet encircle the hearth three times. Sprinkle me with water and let the ivory ﬂute pour out a song from Mygdonian jugs onto fresh altars. Go far away, deceit, let trouble be under another sky: pure laurel eases the poet’s new path.

Muse, we will tell of the temple of Palatine Apollo: this subject is worthy of your favor, Calliope. Poems are brought out in praise of Caesar: while Caesar is being sung, I pray even you, Jupiter, may attend.

There is a port of Phoebus that ﬂees inland toward the Athamane shores, where the gulf stills the rumble of Ionian water, the sea an Actian memorial of the Iulean ship, an accessible passage for sailors’ vows. Here the armies of the world collided: the pine stood towering over the sea, but the bird was not equally favorable to all oars. There was an opposing ﬂeet doomed by Teucrian Quirinus and javelins driven vilely by a female hand: from our side, an Augustan ship, its sails full, a sign from Jove, and standards already experienced in bringing victory to their nation.

377

tandem aciem geminos Nereus lunarat in arcus, 25 armorum et radiis picta tremebat aqua, cum Phoebus linquens stantem se uindice Delon (non tulit iratos mobilis una Notos) astitit Augusti puppim super, et noua flamma luxit in obliquam ter sinuata facem. 30 non ille attulerat crinis in colla solutos aut testudineae carmen inerme lyrae, sed quali aspexit Pelopeum Agamemnona uultu, egessitque auidis Dorica casta rogis, aut qualis flexos soluit Pythona per orbis 35 serpentem, imbelles quem timuere deae. mox ait, “O Longa mundi seruator ab Alba, Auguste, Hectoreis cognite maior auis, uince mari: iam terra tua est: tibi militat arcus et fauet ex umeris hoc onus omne meis. 40 solue metu patriam, quae nunc te uindice freta imposuit prorae publica uota tuae. quam nisi defendes, murorum Romulus augur ire Palatinas non bene uidit auis. et nimium remis audent prope: turpe Latinos 45 principe te fluctus regia uela pati. nec te, quod classis centenis remiget alis, terreat: inuito labitur illa mari:

378 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.6

After a while, Nereus crescented the battle line into twin arcs, and the decorated water trembled with the shafts of weapons, when Phoebus, leaving Delos, which stands still with him protecting it (the only mobile island, it coudn’t withstand irate Notuses), stood up on Augustus’ stern, and a fantastic flame shone in a three-armed jagged flash. He had not come with hair loose on his neck or the peaceful song of his tortoise-shell lyre, but he looked with that face he’d used on Pelopean Agamemnon, when he emptied the Doric camps with greedy pyres, or as when he relaxed the serpent Python’s flexed coils, whom the unwarlike goddesses feared.

Soon, he said, “O guardian of the world from Alba Longa, Augustus, more famous than Hector and your other ancestors, conquer the sea: earth is already yours: my bow fights for you and this whole quiver on my shoulders is on your side. Deliver your nation from fear, which now, with you as protector of the waves, has laid public prayers on your prow. Unless you defend it, it will be in vain that Romulus, augur of the walls, observed birds flying on the Palatine. And they are nearby daring too much with their oars: a disgrace for Latin waves to suffer a tyrant’s sails while you are in command. Their fleet may row with a hundred wings: don’t let it frighten you. Against its will, that fleet is slipping into the sea:

379 quodque uehunt prorae Centaurica saxa minantis, tigna caua et pictos experiere metus. 50 frangit et attollit uires in milite causa; quae nisi iusta subest, excutit arma pudor. tempus adest, committe ratis: ego temporis auctor ducam laurigera Iulia rostra manu.” dixerat, et pharetrae pondus consumit in arcus: 55 promixa post arcus Caesaris hasta fuit. uincit Roma fide Phoebi: dat femina poenas: sceptra per Ionias fracta uehuntur aquas. at pater Idalio miratur Caesar ab astro: “Sum deus; est nostri sanguinis ista fides.” 60 prosequitur cantu Triton, omnesque marinae plauserunt circa libera signa deae. illa petit Nilum cumba male nixa fugaci, hoc unum, iusso non moritura die. di melius! quantus mulier foret una triumphus, 65 ductus erat per quas ante Iugurtha uias! Actius hinc traxit Phoebus monumenta, quod eius una decem uicit missa sagitta ratis. bella satis cecini: citharam iam poscit Apollo uictor et ad placidos exuit arma choros. 70 candida nunc molli subeant conuiuia luco; blanditiaeque fluant per mea colla rosae, uinaque fundantur prelis elisa Falernis, perque lauet nostras spica Cilissa comas.

380 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.6 and though their menacing prows bear Centauric rocks, you will ﬁnd their wooden sculptures hollow and their terrors painted. It is the cause that smashes and exalts powers in soldiery; unless justice is at hand, shame shatters the armor. The time has come, engage the ships: I, time’s author, will guide the Julian prows with laurel-bearing hand.”

He had spoken, and he spends the weight of his quiver on his bow: after the bow, Caesar’s spear was next. Rome conquers with Phoebus’ backing: the woman pays her price. Her broken scepters are scattered across the Ionian waters. Father Caesar marvels from the Idalian star: “I’m a god; that commitment comes from my blood.” Triton escorts them with singing, and all the marine goddesses applaud around the free standards. She heads toward the Nile, lying dejected on her ﬂeeing skiff— to one end: she will not die on an ordained day. Dear gods! What a great triumph one woman would have made, led through the same streets as once Jugurtha! From this, Actian Phoebus got his monument, since one of his arrows, let ﬂy, conquered ten ships.

I’ve sung enough of war: Apollo is already asking for the zither, and the victor takes off his armor to join the peaceful dances. Now let the white-robed guests gather in a comfortable grove, and let alluring roses ﬂow around my neck, and let wine stamped from Falernian presses be poured, and let Cilician pistils wash over my hair.

381

ingenium positis irritet Musa poetis: 75 Bacche, soles Phoebo fertilis esse tuo. ille paludosos memoret seruire Sycambros, Cepheam hic Meroen fuscaque regna canat, hic referat sero confessum foedere Parthum: “Reddat signa Remi, mox dabit ipse sua: 80 siue aliquid pharetris Augustus parcet Eois, differat in pueros ista tropaea suos. gaude, Crasse, nigras si quid sapis inter harenas: ire per Euphraten ad tua busta licet.” sic noctem patera, sic ducam carmine, donec 85 iniciat radios in mea uina dies.

382 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.6

Let the Muse incite genius, the poets all in place: Bacchus, you provide fertile ground for Phoebus. Let that poet’s memory serve the marsh-dwelling Sycambri, let this sing of Cepheus’ Meroe’s dark realms, let this relate how the Parthian has recently acknowledged defeat by treaty: “Let him return Remus’ standards; soon he will give his own: if Augustus spares anything to Eastern quivers, may he be deferring those trophies for his sons. Be happy, Crassus, if you feel anything, beneath the black sands: one can cross the Euphrates to see your tomb.”

As I pass the night with the patera, so let me pass it with song, until the day throws its ﬁrst rays into my wine.

383

IV.vii Sunt aliquid Manes: letum non omnia ﬁnit, luridaque euictos effugit umbra rogos.

Cynthia namque meo uisa est incumbere fulcro, murmur ad extremae nuper humata uiae, cum mihi somnus ab exsequiis penderet amoris, 5 et quererer lecti frigida regna mei. eosdem habuit secum quibus est elata capillos, eosdem oculos; lateri uestis adusta fuit, et solitum digito beryllon adederat ignis, summaque Lethaeus triuerat ora liquor. 10 spirantisque animos et uocem misit: at illi pollicibus fragiles increpuere manus:

“Perﬁde, nec cuiquam melior sperande puellae, in te iam uires somnus habere potest? iamne tibi exciderant uigilacis furta Suburae 15 et mea nocturnis trita fenestra dolis? per quam demisso quotiens tibi fune pependi, alterna ueniens in tua colla manu! saepe Venus triuio commissa est, pectore mixto fecerunt tepidas pallia nostra uias. 20 foederis heu taciti, cuius fallacia uerba non audituri diripuere Noti. at mihi non oculos quisquam inclamauit euntis: unum impetrassem te reuocante diem:

384 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.7

4.7 Spirits do exist. Death doesn’t end it all: a pale ghost has escaped the conquering pyre.

For Cynthia appeared, leaning over my pillow, who was recently buried at the bustling roadside, while sleep wouldn’t come after my love’s last rites, and I was mourning the frigid domain of my bed. She had the very same hairstyle with which she was buried, the same eyes: her clothing was burnt at her side, the ﬁre had consumed the ring always on her ﬁnger, and the Lethean water had touched her lips. She spoke with the voice and spirit of a living person, and her delicate hands snapped their thumbs:

“You bastard, since you’re not waiting for some new trick, does sleep already possess your manhood? Had you forgotten already our all-night adventures in the Subura and my window, worn down by nightly deceits, from which I so often dangled, having let down a rope, coming hand under hand to your embrace? Many times, we had sex right there in the street, our hearts meshed, and our coats left the pavement warm. Oh, our whispered promises, whose lying words unheard Notuses ripped away.

No one called to me as my eyes were going. If I could have one day, with you back at my side!

385

nec crepuit ﬁssa me propter harundine custos, 25 laesit et obiectum tegula curta caput. denique quis nostro curuum te funere uidit, atram quis lacrimis incaluisse togam? si piguit portas ultra procedere, at illuc iussisses lectum lentius ire meum. 30 cur uentos non ipse rogis, ingrate, petisti? cur nardo ﬂammae non oluere meae? hoc etiam graue erat, nulla mercede hyacinthos inicere et fracto busta piare cado?

Lygdamus uratur—candescat lamina uernae— 35 sensi ego, cum insidiis pallida uina bibi— aut Nomas—arcanas tollat uersuta saliuas; dicet damnatas ignea testa manus. quae modo per uilis inspecta est publica noctes, haec nunc aurata cyclade signat humum; 40 at grauiora rependit iniquis pensa quasillis, garrula de facie si qua locuta mea est; nostraque quod Petale tulit ad monumenta coronas, codicis immundi uincula sentit anus; caeditur et Lalage tortis suspensa capillis, 45 per nomen quoniam est ausa rogare meum. te patiente meae conﬂauit imaginis aurum, ardente e nostro dotem habitura rogo. non tamen insector, quamuis mereare, Properti: longa mea in libris regna fuere tuis. 50

386 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.7

No guardian rattled his split stick near my grave, and the short tile I was tossed down on hurt my head. In a word, did anyone see you contorted at my funeral, heating up your black toga with tears? If it irked you to go beyond your gates, at least you might have half-heartedly ordered my bed brought there. You shit, why didn’t you ask the winds to fan my funeral pyre? Why didn’t my ﬂames smell of spikenard? Was that so hard, to toss hyacinths, which cost nothing, and to purify my ashes with the broken jug?

Let Lygdamus feel the burn—let the slave’s metal get white-hot— I felt it when I drank that wine discolored by his treachery— or Nomas—let her hide her arcane potions; ﬁery pot shards will tell which hands are guilty. She who was publicly inspected nightly, a common whore, now marks the ground with her golden gown. And she unjustly re-weighs heavier quotas for any maid who, blabbering on, says a word about my beauty. Petale, because she brought garlands to my tomb, felt the chains of the ﬁlthy stockade, poor old woman, and Lalage is beaten while hanging from her twisting hair, because she dared to ask for something by my name. But she, with your permission, melted down the gold from my statue to get a dowry from my burning pyre.

Even so, I’m not reproaching, Propertius, although you deserve it: my reign in your books was long.

387 iuro ego Fatorum nulli reuolubile carmen, tergeminusque canis sic mihi molle sonet, me seruasse fidem. si fallo, uipera nostris sibilet in tumulis et super ossa cubet. nam gemina est sedes turpem sortita per amnem, 55 turbaque diuersa remigat omnis aqua. una Clytaemestrae stuprum uehit, aut ea Cressae portat mentitae lignea monstra bouis: ecce coronato pars altera rapta phaselo, mulcet ubi Elysias aura beata rosas, 60 qua numerosa fides, quaque aera rotunda Cybebes mitratisque sonant Lydia plectra choris. Andromedeque et Hypermestre sine fraude maritae narrant historiae tempora nota suae: haec sua maternis queritur liuere catenis 65 bracchia nec meritas frigida saxa manus; narrat Hypermestre magnum ausas esse sorores, in scelus hoc animum non ualuisse suum. sic mortis lacrimis uitae sanamus amores: celo ego perfidiae crimina multa tuae. 70 sed tibi nunc mandata damus, si forte moueris, si te non totum Chloridos herba tenet: nutrix in tremulis ne quid desideret annis Parthenie: potuit, nec tibi auara fuit. deliciaeque meae Latris, cui nomen ab usu est, 75 ne speculum dominae porrigat illa nouae. et quoscumque meo fecisti nomine uersus, ure mihi: laudes desine habere meas.

388 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.7

I swear by the song of the Fates, which cannot be rolled back, and may the three-headed dog bark quietly to me, that I have guarded our passion. If I’m lying, may a viper hiss on my tomb and sleep on top of my bones. For separate resting places are alloted beyond the vile stream, and each party is rowed across different waters. One bears Clytemnestra’s disgrace, or it carries the Cretan woman’s wooden monstrosity of a would-be cow.

Look! another route is taken by a crowned pinnace where a happy breeze caresses Elysian roses, where the rhythmic lute and where Cybele’s bronze cymbals and Lydian plectra sound with a mitered chorus. Andromeda and Hypermestra, wives without deceit, tell the famous moments of their story: that one complains her arms and innocent hands turned blue on the frigid rock in maternal chains; Hypermestra tells her sisters’ horrible deed: against such wickedness, her will was not enough.

Thus, with tears in death, we heal life’s loves: I conceal your many crimes of inﬁdelity. But now I’ll make you some requests, if perhaps you may be moved, if Chloris’ herbs don’t completely hold you: that my nurse lack nothing in her trembling years, Parthenie: she could have been but never was greedy with you; and that my delightful Latris, whose name comes from her job, never extend a mirror to a new mistress. And whatever verses you have made in my name, burn them: don’t praise me anymore in your poetry.

389 pelle hederam tumulo, mihi quae praegnante corymbo mollia contortis alligat ossa comis. 80 ramosis Anio qua pomifer incubat aruis, et numquam Herculeo numine pallet ebur, hic carmen media dignum me scribe columna, sed breue, quod currens uector ab urbe legat: HIC TIBURTINA IACET AVREA CYNTHIA TERRA: 85 ACCESSIT RIPAE LAVS, ANIENE, TVAE. nec tu sperne piis uenientia somnia portis: cum pia uenerunt somnia, pondus habent. nocte uagae ferimur, nox clausas liberat umbras, errat et abiecta Cerberus ipse sera. 90 luce iubent leges Lethaea ad stagna reuerti: nos uehimur, uectum nauta recenset onus. nunc te possideant aliae: mox sola tenebo: mecum eris, et mixtis ossibus ossa teram.” haec postquam querula mecum sub lite peregit, 95 inter complexus excedit umbra meos.

390 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.7

Tear the ivy from my tomb, which, with striving clusters, binds my weak bones in its twisting shoots. Where the fruit-bearing Anio ﬂows through orchards, and by Hercules’ power ivory never yellows, there inscribe on a column, for all to see, this poem, worthy of me, but brief, that the traveler hurrying from the city may read it: HERE IN TIBUR’S SOIL LIES GOLDEN CYNTHIA: GLORY HAS COME TO YOUR BANK, ANIENUS.

Don’t spurn the dreams that come through the portals of truth: when true dreams come, they have weight. By night, uncertain, we are borne. Night frees the shut-in shades, and Cerberus himself, the bar thrown aside, wanders loose. By daylight, the laws decree our return to the Lethean pools: we are conveyed, the pilot counts his load of passage. For now, let other girls possess you: I alone will hold you soon: you’ll be with me, and I’ll rub my bones against yours, enmeshed.”

After she ﬁnished her bitter complaint against me, her shade slipped away through my embrace.

391

IV.viii Disce, quid Esquilias hac nocte fugarit aquosas, cum uicina nouis turba cucurrit agris; 2 turpis in arcana sonuit cum rixa taberna, 19 si sine me, famae non sine labe meae. 20

Lanuuium annosi uetus est tutela draconis; 3 hic ubi, tam rarae non perit hora morae; qua sacer abripitur caeco descensus hiatu, 5 qua penetrat (uirgo, tale iter omne caue!) ieiuni serpentis honos, cum pabula poscit annua et ex ima sibila torquet humo. talia demissae pallent ad sacra puellae, cum temere anguino creditur ore manus. 10 ille sibi admotas a uirgine corripit escas: uirginis in palmis ipsa canistra tremunt. si fuerint castae, redeunt in colla parentum, clamantque agricolae, “Fertilis annus erit!” huc mea detonsis auecta est Cynthia mannis: 15 causa fuit Iuno, sed mage causa Venus. Appia, dic quaeso, quantum te teste triumphum egerit effusis per tua saxa rotis! 18 spectaclum ipsa sedens primo temone pependit, 21 ausa per impuros frena mouere locos. serica nam taceo uulsi carpenta nepotis atque armillatos colla Molossa canis;

392 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.8

4.8 Learn what scandalized the well-watered Esquiline last night, when the neighboring crowd came running from the new gardens, when an ugly brawl echoed in a dark tavern, if without my presence, not without the ruin of my reputation.

Ancient Lanuvium is under the protection of an aged serpent; here, where the time spent on such an unusual trip is not wasted, where the sacred descent plummets from a blind mouth, where penetrates (maiden, beware everything about such an expedition!) the offering for the hungry serpent, when he seeks his annual meal and writhes, hissing from the deep earth. The girls who are sent down go pale at the ritual, when their hand is rashly entrusted to the snaky jaw. He snatches the food offered him by a virgin: the very baskets tremble in the virgin’s hands. If they are chaste, they return to their parents’ embrace, and the farmers shout, “It will be a fertile year!”

To that cave was my Cynthia conveyed on shorn ponies: the excuse was Juno, but the real reason was Venus! Appia, do tell what great victory you witnessed that he effected on your rocks, when they stopped their wheels! A spectacle she was as she sat there, leaning from the front of her carriage, daring to move the reins through impure locales. I make no mention of the silk-upholstered carriage of the beardless grandson and the Molossian dogs with studded collars on their necks.

393

qui dabit immundae uenalia fata saginae, 25 uincet ubi erasas barba pudenda genas. cum ﬁeret nostro totiens iniuria lecto, mutato uolui castra mouere toro.

Phyllis Auentinae quaedam est uicina Dianae, sobria grata parum: cum bibit, omne decet. 30 altera Tarpeios est inter Teia lucos, candida, sed potae non satis unus erit. his ego constitui noctem lenire uocatis, et Venere ignota furta nouare mea. unus erat tribus in secreta lectulus herba. 35 quaeris concubitus? inter utramque fui.

Lygdamus ad cyathos, uitrique aestiua supellex et Methymnaei Graeca saliua meri. Nile, tuus tibicen erat, crotalistria Phyllis, et facilis spargi munda sine arte rosa, 40 Magnus et ipse suos breuiter concretus in artus iactabat truncas ad caua buxa manus. sed neque suppletis constabat ﬂamma lucernis, reccidit inque suos mensa supina pedes. me quoque per talos Venerem quaerente secundam 45 semper damnosi subsiluere canes. cantabant surdo, nudabant pectora caeco: Lanuuii ad portas, ei mihi, solus eram;

394 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.8

He will sell his fate to the gladiators’ inedible gruel when an ugly beard will conquer shaved cheeks.

Since insults so often accrued to my bed, I decided to change pillows and move camp.

There’s a certain Phyllis lives near Diana of the Aventine, not too pleasing when sober: when she drinks, everything about her shines. Another lives near the Tarpeian groves—Teia. She’s beautiful, but one guy won’t be enough for her, drunk. I decided to call them and smooth out my night, reviving my love life with new thrills. There was one little bed for three in a hidden garden. You need a laying plan? I lay between the two.

Lygdamus had the ladles and the summer wine glasses, and a Greek flavor of unmixed Methymnian. The Egyptian flute-player was there, and Phyllis had her castanets, and elegant, long-stemmed roses, ready to be strewn, and Magnus, stiffened in his small limbs, was throwing his stumps of arms at the hollow boxwood. But the flame wouldn’t steady, though the lanterns had been filled, and the table fell over, its feet in the air. I was hoping for a Venus, some favorable throw of the dice, but the damned Dogs kept popping up.

They sang to the deaf, bared their breasts to the blind: I was alone, alas, at the gates of Lanuvium,

395 cum subito rauci sonuerunt cardine postes, et leuia ad primos murmura facta Lares. 50 nec mora, cum totas resupinat Cynthia ualuas, non operosa comis, sed furibunda decens. pocula mi digitos inter cecidere remissos, palluerantque ipso labra soluta mero. fulminat illa oculis et quantum femina saeuit, 55 spectaclum capta nec minus urbe fuit. Phyllidos iratos in uultum conicit unguis: territa uicinas Teia clamat aquas. lumina sopitos turbant elata Quiritis, omnis et insana semita nocte sonat. 60 illas direptisque comis tunicisque solutis excipit obscurae prima taberna uiae.

Cynthia gaudet in exuuiis uictrixque recurrit et mea peruersa sauciat ora manu, imponitque notam collo morsuque cruentat, 65 praecipueque oculos, qui meruere, ferit. atque ubi iam nostris lassauit bracchia plagis, Lygdamus ad plutei fulcra sinistra latens eruitur, geniumque meum protractus adorat. Lygdame, nil potui: tecum ego captus eram. 70 supplicibus palmis tum demum ad foedera ueni, cum uix tangendos praebuit illa pedes, atque ait, “Admissae si uis me ignoscere culpae, accipe, quae nostrae formula legis erit. tu neque Pompeia spatiabere cultus in umbra, 75 nec cum lasciuum sternet harena Forum.

396 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.8 when all of a sudden, the door creaked on its rusty hinges, and low murmurs came from the entryway. A minute later, Cynthia flung the doors open wide. Her hair was a mess, but she looked great in her fury. The cup fell through my lax fingers, and my lips, loose from the pure, grew pale. She shoots lightning with her eyes and rages like only a woman can. It is no less a spectacle than the sack of a city. She casts savage fingernails at Phyllis’ face: terrified Teia shouts “Fire!” to the neighbors. They grab some torches and wake up sleeping citizens. The entire alleyway echoes with my insane party. Their hair a shambles, their tunics falling off, they rush into the first tavern on the darkened street.

Cynthia glories in her spoils and hurries back victorious. She smacks my face with the back of her hand and leaves bloody toothmarks on my neck. My eyes especially, since they’ve deserved it, she buffets. And when she’d tired her arms with beating me, Lygdamus was rooted out from his hiding place behind his pillow on the left, and, brought to light, he implored my protector god. Lygdamus, I couldn’t do anything: I was a prisoner, just like you. Then, at last, with palms in supplication, I agreed to her terms. She barely offered her feet to be kissed and said, “If you want me to ignore your admitted guilt, accept the formula of our agreement: you won’t cruise the Pompeian shadows, all dressed up, nor when sand will cover the lascivious Forum.

397 colla caue inﬂectas ad summum obliqua theatrum, aut lectica tuae sudet aperta morae. Lygdamus in primis, omnis mihi causa querelae, ueneat et pedibus uincula bina trahat.” 80 indixit leges: respondi ego, “Legibus utar.”

riserat imperio facta superba dato. dein quemcumque locum externae tetigere puellae, sufﬁit, ac pura limina tergit aqua, imperat et totas iterum mutare lucernas, 85 terque meum tetigit sulpuris igne caput. atque ita mutato per singula pallia lecto respondi, et toto soluimus arma toro.

398 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.8

Make sure you don’t turn and look at the upper bleachers or that your open litter should sweat at your delay. Lygdamus, ﬁrst of all, the cause of all my complaints, must go up for sale, and he must have double chains on his feet.” She published the laws: I responded, “I’ll abide by them.”

She laughed, emboldened by the grant of power. Then, whatever place those outsider girls had touched, she perfumes it, and pure water scours the threshold. She demands that the oil in all the lanterns be changed, and she touched my head three times with ﬁre of sulfur. And when my bed had been changed down to the last pillowcase, I responded, and we loosed our weapons all over my couch.

399

VI.ix Amphitryoniades qua tempestate iuuencos egerat a stabulis, o Erythea, tuis, uenit ad inuictos pecorosa Palatia montis, et statuit fessos fessus et ipse boues, qua Velabra suo stagnabant flumine quoque 5 nauta per urbanas uelificabat aquas. sed non infido manserunt hospite Caco incolumes: furto polluit ille Iouem. incola Cacus erat, metuendo raptor ab antro, per tria partitos qui dabat ora sonos. 10 hic, ne certa forent manifestae signa rapinae, auersos cauda traxit in antra boues; nec sine teste deo: furem sonuere iuuenci, furis et implacidas diruit ira fores. Maenalio iacuit pulsus tria tempora ramo 15 Cacus, et Alcides sic ait: “Ite boues, Herculis ite boues, nostrae labor ultime clauae, bis mihi quaesitae, bis mea praeda, boues, aruaque mugitu sancite Bouaria longo: nobile erit Romae pascua uestra Forum.” 20 dixerat, et sicco torquet sitis ora palato, terraque non ullas feta ministrat aquas. sed procul inclusas audit ridere puellas, lucus ubi umbroso fecerat orbe nemus, femineae loca clausa deae fontisque piandos, 25 impune et nullis sacra retecta uiris.

400 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.9

4.9 The Amphitryonid had driven the oxen through a tempest, from your pastures, Erythea, when he arrived at the sheep-covered Palatine, unconquered mount, and he stopped the exhausted animals, himself exhausted, where the Velabrum made a pool from its river, and a ﬁsherman was sailing through urban waters.

But they weren’t safe long, with wicked Cacus to welcome them: stealthily he violated Jove’s law. Cacus lived there, a robber in a treacherous cave who produced echoes from his three mouths. Here, to avoid any obvious signs of his robbery’s coming to light, he dragged the cattle into his cave backwards, by the tail! But not without the god’s seeing: the oxen sounded out the thief, and anger destroyed the thief’s imposing doors. Cacus sprawled, knocked on his three heads by the Maenalian stick, and Alcides said, “Go, cattle, go, cattle of Hercules, ﬁnal labor of my cudgel, twice sought by me, twice my booty, cattle, sanctify the Bovarian ﬁelds with a long moo: your pastures will one day be the noble Forum of Rome.”

He had spoken, and thirst twisted his throat with parched palate, and the fertile earth provided no waters. But some way off he hears girls laughing from an enclosure where a sacred grove had made a clearing with shady circle, a precinct of the female goddess, with fountains to be consecrated and rites revealed to no man with impunity.

401 deuia puniceae uelabant limina uittae, putris odorato luxerat igne casa, populus et longis ornabat frondibus aedem, multaque cantatis umbra tegebat auis. 30 huc ruit in siccam congesta puluere barbam, et iacit ante fores uerba minora deo: “Vos precor, o luci sacro quae luditis antro, pandite defessis hospita fana uiris. fontis egens erro, circaque sonantia lymphis; 35 et caua succepto ﬂumine palma sat est. audistisne aliquem, tergo qui sustulit orbem? ille ego sum: Alciden terra recepta uocat. quis facta Herculeae non audit fortia clauae et numquam ad uastas irrita tela feras, 40 atque uni Stygias homini luxisse tenebras? 42 angulus hic mundi nunc me mea fata trahentem 65 accipit: haec fesso uix mihi terra patet. 66 quodsi Iunoni sacrum faceretis amarae, 43 non clausisset aquas ipsa nouerca suas. sin aliquem uultusque meus saetaeque leonis 45 terrent et Libyco sole perusta coma, idem ego Sidonia feci seruilia palla ofﬁcia et Lydo pensa diurna colo, mollis et hirsutum cepit mihi fascia pectus, et manibus duris apta puella fui.” 50

402 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.9

Red ribbons adorned the secluded threshold, a delapidated house shone with incense-laden ﬂame, a poplar framed the temple with its long branches, and ample shade protected the singing birds.

There he rushes, his dry beard covered with dust, and before the gates he speaks words not worthy of a god: “You, I pray, who sport in the hallowed vault of this grove, open your temple in hospitality to an exhausted man. I wander in search of a spring, and this place echoes with streams. Whatever I can grab from the ﬂow with my cupped palm is enough. Have you heard of a man who supported the earth on his shoulders? I am that man: the earth I received calls me Alcides. Who hasn’t heard of the mighty deeds of the Herculean staff and his weapons, which were never too weak against enormous beasts, and how the Stygian shadows shone bright for one man? This corner of the world now accepts me, as I drag my fate behind me: this land scarcely opens to me in my exhuastion. If you were performing rites to bitter Juno, the stepmother herself would not lock up her waters like this. If, however, my face and lion’s skins scare someone, and my hair, scorched by the Libyan sun, I’m the same guy who performed servant’s duties in a Sidonian robe and did my daily quota with the Lydian distaff. A soft ribbon girded my hairy chest: I was a deft girl with rough hands.”

403 talibus Alcides; at talibus alma sacerdos, puniceo canas stamine uincta comas; “Parce oculis, hospes, lucoque abscede uerendo; cede agedum et tuta limina linque fuga. interdicta uiris metuenda lege piatur 55 quae se summota uindicat ara casa. magno Tiresias aspexit Pallada uates, fortia dum posita Gorgone membra lauat. di tibi dent alios fontis: haec lympha puellis auia secreti limitis unda ﬂuit.” 60 sic anus: ille umeris postis concussit opacos, nec tulit iratam ianua clausa sitim. at postquam exhausto iam ﬂumine uicerat aestum, ponit uix siccis tristia iura labris: 64 “Maxima quae gregibus deuota est Ara repertis, 67 ara per has,” inquit, “maxima facta manus, haec nullis umquam pateat ueneranda puellis, Herculis aeternum ne sit inulta sitis.” 70 hunc, quoniam manibus purgatum sanxerat orbem, 73 sic sanctum Tatiae composuere Cures. 74 Sancte pater salue, cui iam fauet aspera Iuno: 71 Sance, uelis libro dexter inesse meo. 72

404 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.9

Thus Alcides; but the kind priestess, her white hair bound in a scarlet fillet, answered: “Avert your eyes, guest, depart from this grove, which should be feared. Give up instantly: leave this threshold unharmed. This altar, which preserves itself in a remote chapel, is sanctified as off-limits to men by a law to be feared. Tiresias the prophet saw Pallas at a great price, while she bathed her mighty limbs, having set down her Gorgon. May the gods grant you other fountains: this stream flows for girls, a hidden spring that flows apart.”

Thus the hag: he smashed the shady posts with his shoulder, and the shut door couldn’t withstand his angry thirst. But after he had conquered the heat, the spring already drained, he levied a stern decree, his lips scarcely dry: “The Ara Maxima, hereby vowed for the procurement of ﬂocks, an altar,” he said, “which will be these hands’ greatest labor, may never be open for veneration by girls, so that Hercules’ thirst may be eternally avenged.”

To this man, since he had puriﬁed and purged the earth with his hands, Tatius’ Sabines have established a holy temple. Hail, holy father, to whom even harsh Juno now is favorable: o Puriﬁer, may you wish favorably to enter my book.

405

IV.x Nunc Iouis incipiam causas aperire Feretri armaque de ducibus trina recepta tribus. magnum iter ascendo, sed dat mihi gloria uires: non iuuat e facili lecta corona iugo. imbuis exemplum primae tu, Romule, palmae 5 huius, et exuuio plenus ab hoste redis, tempore quo portas Caeninum Acrona petentem uictor in euersum cuspide fundis equum. Acron Herculeus Caenina ductor ab arce, Roma, tuis quondam ﬁnibus horror erat. 10 hic spolia ex umeris ausus sperare Quirini ipse dedit, sed non sanguine sicca suo. hunc uidet ante causas librantem spicula turris Romulus et uotis occupat ante ratis: “Iuppiter, haec hodie tibi uictima corruet Acron.” 15 uouerat, et spolium corruit ille Ioui. urbis uirtutisque parens sic uincere sueuit, qui tulit a parco frigida castra lare. idem eques et frenis, idem fuit aptus aratris, et galea hirsuta compta lupina iuba. 20 picta neque inducto fulgebat parma pyropo: praebebant caesi baltea lenta boues.

Cossus at insequitur Veientis caede Tolumni, uincere cum Veios posse laboris erat, necum ultra Tiberim belli sonus, ultima praeda 25

406 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.10

4.10 Now I begin, revealing the stories of Jove Feretrius and the three sets of arms captured from three leaders. I ascend a mighty path, but the glory of it gives me strength: the crown taken from an easy peak is nothing.

You, Romulus, provide the example of the first such palm, and you returned laden with spoils from the enemy that time when, victorious, you routed with your spear Acron of Caenina, upsetting his horse as he was attacking the gates. Herculean Acron, commander from the citadel of Caenina, was once a terror to your borders, Rome. The spoils he dared to hope for from Quirinus’ shoulders he himself gave up, and not dry of his own blood. Romulus sees him preparing spears before the hollow turrets and attacks first, fulfilling his vows: “Jupiter, this victim, Acron, sinks before you today.” He had vowed, and that man sank as an offering to Jove.

The founder of the city and the city’s valor was used to winning: he bore the freezing camps, coming from a frugal home. That same horseman was equally good with reins and with plows, and his helmet was wolfskin ﬁtted with a hairy crest. His small shield didn’t gleam, painted or worked in golden bronze: cut leather provided a dull baldric.

And Cossus follows with the slaughter of Veian Tolumnus, when it took some effort to be able to conquer Veii, and the sound of war had not yet gone beyond the Tiber: the farthest sacks

407

Nomentum et captae iugera terna Corae. heu Vei ueteres! et uos tum regna fuistis, et uestro posita est aurea sella foro: nunc intra muros pastoris bucina lenti cantat, et in uestris ossibus arua metunt. 30 forte super portae dux Veiens astitit arcem colloquiumque sua fretus ab urbe dedit: dumque aries murum cornu pulsabat aeno, uinea qua ductum longa tegebat opus, Cossus ait, “Forti melius concurrere campo.” 35 nec mora ﬁt, plano sistit uterque gradum. di Latias iuuere manus, desecta Tolumni ceruix Romanos sanguine lauit equos.

Claudius at Rheno traiectos arcuit hostis, Belgica cum uasti parma relata ducis 40 Virdomari. genus hic Rheno iactabat ab ipso, mobilis euectis fundere gaesa rotis. illi ut uirgatis iaculans it ab agmine bracis torquis ab incisa decidit unca gula. nunc spolia in templo tria condita: causa Feretri, 45 omine quod certo dux ferit ense ducem; seu quia uicta suis umeris haec arma ferebant hinc Feretri dicta est ara superba Iouis.

408 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.10 were Nomentum and the three acres each of captured Cora. Poor old Veii! You were then a kingdom, and a golden throne was stationed in your Forum: now the horn of a slow shepherd sings within your walls, and they sow the ﬁelds over your bones. By chance, the Veian leader stood above the gate’s arch, and he gave a speech rallying his city. And while the ram was battering the wall with bronze horn where an immense ivy covered its drawn-out labor, Cossus said, “For the brave it is better to rush onto the ﬁeld.” Without delay, each picks his spot on the plain. The gods helped Latian hands. The cut neck of Tolumnus bathed the Roman horses in its blood.

And Claudius hemmed in the enemy that had crossed the Rhine, when the Belgian shield of the huge leader Virdomarus was brought back. He was bragging about his people, “from the Rhine itself,” raining down a shower of spears while riding out in front. As he rushes out from his ranks in striped pants, casting his javelins, his curved torque falls from his cut throat. Now three spoils are preserved in the temple: that’s why it’s called the Feretrius, because a leader killing a leader with his sword is a clear omen, or perhaps because they would carry these conquered arms on their shoulders, that’s why this proud altar of Jove is called Feretrius.

409

IV.xi “Desine, Paulle, meum lacrimis urgere sepulcrum: panditur ad nullas ianua nigra preces; cum semel infernas intrarunt funera leges, non exorato stant adamante uiae. te licet orantem fuscae deus audiat aulae: 5 nempe tuas lacrimas litora surda bibent. uota mouent superos: ubi portitor aera recepit, obserat euersos lurida porta rogos. sic maestae cecinere tubae, cum subdita nostrum detraheret lecto fax inimica caput. 10 quid mihi coniugium Paulli, quid currus auorum profuit aut famae pignora tanta meae? non minus immitis habuit Cornelia Parcas: et sum, quod digitis quinque legatur, onus. damnatae noctes et uos, uada lenta, paludes, 15 et quaecumque meos implicat unda pedes, immatura licet, tamen huc non noxia ueni:

det Pater hic umbrae mollia iura meae. aut si quis posita uindex sedet Aeacus urna, in mea sortita iudicet ossa pila: 20 assideant fratres, iuxta Minoia sella, et Eumenidum intento turba seuera foro. Sisyphe, mole uaces; taceant Ixionis orbes; fallax Tantaleus corripiare liquor; Cerberus et nullas hodie petat improbus umbras; 25 et iaceat tacita laxa catena sera.

410 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.11

4.11 “Paullus, stop pressing my tomb with tears: the black gate opens to no prayers; once the dead have entered the infernal laws, the roads stand ﬁxed with inexorable adamant. It may be that the god of the dark palace will hear you praying: you know that deaf shores will drink your tears. Vows move the gods: when the ferryman takes his bronze, the pale gate shuts on the collapsed pyre.

So sang the lamenting horns, when the hateful torch was put below the bier and tore my head away. What good then was my marriage to Paullus, the chariot of my ancestors, or the many tokens of my reputation? Cornelia had fates no less harsh for all that: and now I am a burden which may be collected by ﬁve ﬁngers. Damned nights and you, stagnant pools, swamps, and some strange water that covers my feet, too early perhaps, still I came here pure: may Dis Pater grant my shade a lenient judgment. Or if some Aeacus sits as avenger, urn at the ready, let him adjudicate the lot drawn on my bones: let his brothers sit nearby, Minos’ seat next to his, and the somber throng of Eumenides in intent forum. Sisyphus, may you rest from your boulder; may Ixion’s wheels lie silent; may Tantalus’ deceiving drink be snatched. May savage Cerberus today pursue no shades, may his chain lie loose, the gate bolt quiet.

411 ipsa loquor pro me: si fallo, poena sororum infelix umeros urgeat urna meos. si cui fama fuit per auita tropaea decori, Afra Numantinos regna loquuntur auos: 30 altera maternos exaequat turba Libones, et domus est titulis utraque fulta suis. mox, ubi iam facibus cessit praetexta maritis, uinxit et acceptas altera uitta comas, iungor, Paulle, tuo sic discessura cubili: 35 in lapide hoc uni nupta fuisse legar. testor maiorum cineres tibi, Roma, colendos, sub quorum titulis, Africa, tunsa iaces, 38 me neque censurae legem mollisse neque ulla 41 labe mea uestros erubuisse focos. non fuit exuuiis tantis Cornelia damnum: quin et erat magnae pars imitanda domus. nec mea mutata est aetas, sine crimine tota est: 45 uiximus insignes inter utramque facem. mi natura dedit leges a sanguine ductas, ne possis melior iudices esse metu. quaelibet austeras de me ferat urna tabellas: turpior assessu non erit ulla meo, 50 uel tu, quae tardam mouisti fune Cybeben, Claudia, turritae rara ministra deae, uel cui, iusta suos cum Vesta reposceret ignis, exhibuit uiuos carbasus alba focos.

412 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.11

I speak on my own behalf: if I fail, may the sisters’ punishment, the unlucky urn, press my shoulders. If any ever gained virtuous reputation by his ancestors’ trophies, the African realms know the names of my Numantine forebears: and the other side balances with my mother’s Libones, and each house is supported by its titles. Soon, when the toga praetexta withdrew at the time of my marriage torches, and another ribbon bound my newly ﬁtting hairstyle, I was linked, Paullus, ready now to depart for your bed: on this stone, it says I was married to one man. I swear on the ashes of your forefathers, Rome, that must be honored, beneath whose titles, Africa, you lie destroyed, that I did not weaken the law of censure and that your hearths blushed from no disgrace of mine.

There was no loss to the mountain of spoils because of Cornelia: and indeed my branch of the great house was worthy of imitation. My life was not one of change—it was entirely free from sin: I lived distinguished between the two torches. Nature gave me habits drawn from my lineage. You couldn’t be better from fear of the law. Let any urn bear stern judgments on me. None will be more severe than my own company: not you, who moved grounded Cybele with a rope, Claudia, excellent priestess of the turreted goddess, or you, whose white linen revealed live hearths when just Vesta asked back her ﬂame.

413

nec te, dulce caput, mater Scribonia, laesi: 55 in me mutatum quid nisi fata uelis? maternis laudor lacrimis urbisque querelis, defensa et gemitu Caesaris ossa mea. ille sua nata dignam uixisse sororem increpat, et lacrimas uidimus ire deo. 60 et tamen emerui generosos uestis honores, nec mea de sterili facta rapina domo. tu, Lepide, et tu, Paulle, meum post fata leuamen, condita sunt uestro lumina nostra sinu. uidimus et fratrem sellam geminasse curulem; 65 consule quo, festo tempore, rapta soror. ﬁlia, tu specimen censurae nata paternae, fac teneas unum nos imitata uirum. et serie fulcite genus: mihi cumba uolenti soluitur aucturis tot mea fata meis. 70 haec est feminei merces extrema triumphi, laudat ubi emeritum libera fama rogum. nunc tibi commendo communia pignora natos: haec cura et cineri spirat inusta meo. fungere maternis uicibus pater: illa meorum 75 omnis erit collo turba ferenda tuo. oscula cum dederis tua ﬂentibus, adice matris: tota domus coepit nunc onus esse tuum. et si quid doliturus eris, sine testibus illis! cum uenient, siccis oscula falle genis! 80

414 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.11

Nor did I wrong you, sweet head, Scribonian mother: what would you have wanted changed about me, except my death? I am praised in maternal tears and the city’s laments, and my bones are defended by Caesar’s wail. He complains that a sister worthy of his daughter has died, and we see tears leaving the god. And yet, I earned the honors of the dress of fruitfulness, and no pillage was done on the charge I had a sterile house. You, Lepidus, and you, Paullus, are my consolation after death. My eyes are shut in your embrace.

I also saw my brother twice attain a curule chair, his sister taken away in his consulship, at its very celebration. My daughter, born an example of your father’s censorship, make sure you imitate me and stick to one man. Secure our family line. I’m ready for the skiff to be untied, since so many of my family will extend my life. This is her greatest reward, a woman’s triumph, when her children’s reputation brings honor to her deserving pyre.

Now to you, I commend our common obligation, our children: this care breathes on, branded, in my ash. A father, you will perform a mother’s functions: that mob of mine will always be hanging from your neck. When you give your kisses to calm their tears, add a mother’s. The whole house now begins to be your responsibility. If you’re sad about something, don’t let them know! When they come, deceive their kisses with dry cheeks!

415 sat tibi sint noctes, quas de me, Paulle, fatiges, somniaque in faciem credita saepe meam: atque ubi secreto nostra ad simulacra loqueris, ut responsurae singula uerba iace. seu tamen aduersum mutarit ianua lectum, 85 sederit et nostro cauta nouerca toro, coniugium, pueri, laudate et ferte paternum: capta dabit uestris moribus illa manus; nec matrem laudate nimis: collata priori uertet in offensas libera uerba suas. 90 seu memor ille mea contentus manserit umbra et tanti cineres duxerit esse meos, discite uenturam iam nunc sentire senectam, caelibis ad curas nec uacet ulla uia. quod mihi detractum est, uestros accedat ad annos: 95 prole mea Paullum sic iuuet esse senem. et bene habet: numquam mater lugubria sumpsi; uenit in exsequias tota caterua meas. causa perorata est. ﬂentes me surgite, testes, dum pretium uitae grata rependit humus. 100 moribus et caelum patuit: sim digna merendo, cuius honoratis ossa uehantur aquis.”

416 BOOK FOUR POEM 4.11

Let there be nights enough for you, Paullus, nights you importune with me, and frequent dreams, believable in my appearance: and when you speak in private to my portrait, say each word as to one who will respond.

If nevertheless, my sons, the house-door should change its bed, and a cautious stepmother sit on our couch, praise and support your father’s marriage. Won over by your virtue, she will give her hand. Don’t praise your mother too much. Unguarded words comparing one who came before will turn against you. If he should remain content with my shade and treat my ashes with respect, learn to realize that old age will come quickly now, and no path is as free from cares as is the bachelor’s.

What has been taken from me, may it be added to your years: may Paullus enjoy his old age with my children. And it is well: as a mother, I never put on mourning clothes. The whole troop came to my funeral.

My case has been argued. Rise, witnesses, and mourn me, until the grateful earth rewards the value of my life. Even the heavens have opened to certain virtues: may I be worthy by merit, my bones conveyed by the honorable waters.”

417

NOTES

NOTES TO BOOK ONE

1. Prologue poem, addressed to Tullus. This friend of Propertius’ was nephew of Lucius Volcacius Tullus, consul in 33 B.C.E. and proconsul of Asia in 30–29 B.C.E. See poems 1.6, 1.14, 1.22, and 3.22. Milanion: successful suitor of Atalanta. Iasid: Atalanta, daughter of Iasus; she was a skilled hunter, famous for her speed, who lived in Arcadia. In the well-known version (not used by Propertius), Atalanta challenged her suitors to a race; whoever would ﬁrst defeat her would win her hand in marriage. Milanion won by dropping golden apples in her path, which Atalanta stopped to pick up. Hylaeus: a Centaur who attacked Atalanta. Cytinean: Cytina was a town in Thessaly, a region supposed to be home to a tradi- tion of witchcraft.

2. Addressed to Cynthia. Coan silk: Silks from the island of Cos were known for their ﬁne transparency. Orontean: from the Orontes, a river in Syria. Phoebe, Hilaira: daughters of Leucippus, king of Messenia. Castor and Pollux carried them off and married them. daughter of Euenus: Marpessa, who was abducted by Idas. Later, Apollo tried to wrest Marpessa from Idas, and Jupiter allowed her to choose between the two. She chose the mortal. Hippodamia: Oenomaus, king of Pisa in Elis, required all suitors of his daughter Hip- podamia to compete with him in a chariot race. The winner would gain Hippo- damia’s hand, the losers be put to death. Pelops from Phrygia convinced the king’s groom to remove the linchpin from his master’s axle. Oenomaus dead, Pelops gained kingdom as well as bride, thereby initiating the Peloponnesian dynasty. Apelles: painter of the fourth century B.C.E. from Ephesus or Cos, famous for his use of color intensiﬁed by brilliant glaze. Phoebus: literally the “Shining One,” epithet for Apollo, god of the sun, poetry, and music. Apollo is the god of music as reason, measure, logic—not music as ecstasy, which is Bacchus.

Calliope: later the Muse of epic poetry, but in Propertius’ day the Muses were not strictly deﬁned. Aonia: mythic name of Boeotia, where Mount Helicon, sacred to Apollo and the Muses, is found.

3. Addressed partially to Cynthia, partially to a third party. the Knossian girl: Ariadne, from Knossos in Crete, daughter of King Minos; she gave Theseus the ball of twine whereby he could, after killing the Minotaur, escape the labyrinth. Theseus took her with him, but abandoned her on the island of Naxos as she slept. She was transported to Olympus by Bacchus. See note to poem 3.17. Andromeda: daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia of Ethiopia; as a result of her mother’s vanity, she was chained to a rock by the sea, to be eaten by a sea monster; rescued by Perseus. See note to poem 4.7. Edonian: Edonians were a Thracian tribe that worshiped Bacchus. Apidanus: river in Thessaly. Liber: literally the “Free One,” an ancient Italian agricultural god, later identified with Bacchus, god of wine and revelry. Argus: Jupiter had an affair with Io, daughter of King Inachus of Argos; when Juno found out, she changed Io into a heifer and commanded Argus, a hundred-eyed creature, to guard the animal. Io was also pursued by a gadfly, at Juno’s command, and ended up fleeing to Egypt; she is identified with the Egyptian goddess Isis. On Isis, see introduction.

4. Addressed to Bassus, possibly the poet of iambics mentioned by Ovid (Tristia 4.10.47–8). Antiope: daughter of Nycteus, raped by Nycteus’ brother Lycus, who, along with his wife, Dirce, imprisoned and tormented her. Antiope’s twin sons by Jupiter, Zethus and Amphion, were exposed on the Cithaeron mountains between At- tica and Boeotia. Later, they killed Dirce by having her dragged under a bull. See note to poem 3.15. Hermione: daughter of Menelaus and Helen; courted by Neoptolemus and Orestes.

5. Addressed to a friend named Gallus; not Cornelius Gallus, the elegiac poet. See poems 1.10, 1.13, and 1.20.

6. Addressed to Tullus. See poems 1.1, 1.14, 1.22, and 3.22. The occasion is the proconsulship of Tullus’ uncle, Lucius Volcacius Tullus, in Asia in 30–29 B.C.E. Rhipaean mountains: a mythical range to the far north.

420 NOTES TO BOOK 1

Memnon: king of Ethiopia. Pactolus: a river in Lydia, formerly rich in gold.

7. Addressed to Ponticus, an epic poet (Ovid, Tristia 4.10.47–8). This poem is a warning that epic poetry will be of no use should Ponticus fall in love. Poem 1.9 forms a pair with this one. Cadmus: legendary founder of Thebes. fraternal warfare: refers to Eteocles and Polynices, sons of Oedipus, who killed each other ﬁghting over who would rule Thebes.

8 A. Addressed to Cynthia. Illyria: Roman province on the Greek Adriatic. Vergilii: the Pleiades, stars whose rising signiﬁed the beginning of the sailing season. Galatea: a Nereid (sea nymph), loved by Polyphemus; daughter of Nereus, who had ﬁfty daughters. Ceraunia: dangerous promonotory on the coast of Epirus, northwest Greece. Oricos: Illyrian port, on Epirus’ border. Atrax: river on the Aetolian coast, in northern Greece. the Hyllei: an Illyrian tribe.

8 B. Addressed to Cynthia. Hippodamia: daughter of Oenomaus. See note to poem 1.2.

9. Addressed to Ponticus. See poem 1.7. Chaonian doves: Chaonia was a district on the coast of northern Epirus. The oracle of Zeus at Dodona was called Chaonian Zeus; its priestesses were called doves. Amphionian lyre: Amphion possessed a lyre, the music of which made stones rise and form the walls of Thebes. Mimnermos: elegiac poet from Kolophon, around 630 B.C.E. hell’s wheel: Ixion, king of the Lapiths, was given Dia in marriage for a certain sum, payable to her father. Ixion, having got Dia, refused to pay; her father harrassed Ixion, who killed him. Brought in judgment before Zeus, Ixion pleaded so well he had convinced Zeus of his innocence—until Zeus noticed him making love to Hera, and bound him to a revolving wheel of ﬁre in Tartarus.

10. Addressed to Gallus. In poem 1.5, Gallus appeared as an unwelcome rival. Here, Propertius takes pleasure in witnessing Gallus’ submission to love’s yoke. This situation is expanded on in poem 1.13.

421

11. Addressed to Cynthia. Baiae: now Baia, then a fashionable resort on the northern shore of the Bay of Naples, between Lake Lucrinus and the promontory of Misenum. See note on poem 3.18. Herculean shores: According to legend, Hercules built a causeway on the land separating Lake Lucrinus from the sea, while making off with Geryon’s cattle. Thesprotus: a legendary ruler. Thesprotus’ realm seems to refer to Lake Avernus, a supposed point of entry to the underworld, although there is some confusion regarding its location being near Naples or in Greece. Misenum: small town on the promontory near Baiae. Teuthras: mythological king from Mysia or inhabitant of Cumae, locale of the famous sibyl near Baiae.

12. Hypanis: the modern Bug, ﬂowing into the Black Sea at Odessa. Eridanus: the modern Po. herbs from Promethean heights: reference to Colchian sorcery. Colchis was a region southeast of the Black Sea, famous for witchcraft and home to Medea. Prometheus was chained to the Caucasus mountains to the north.

13. Addressed to Gallus. See poems 1.5, 1.10, and 1.20. the Taenarian god: Salmoneus’ daughter Tyro was in love with the river Enipeus, so Neptune, enamored of her, disguised himself as the river and had sex with her. Poseidon (Neptune) had a sanctuary at Taenarus, southernmost cape of the Peloponnese, thus the “Taenarian god.” See note to poem 2.28 C. the ranges of Oeta: Hercules ended his life on Mount Oeta, burned on a pyre he himself built. After apotheosis, Hercules was given Hebe’s hand in marriage; Propertius implies they had sex on Oeta, just after Hercules’ death and transformation. Leda’s child: Helen, one of three daughters Leda had, the others being Clytemnes- tra and Phoebe. Inachian heroines: legendary beauties from the age of Inachos, founder of Argos.

14. Addressed to Tullus. See poems 1.1, 1.6, 1.22, and 3.22. Lesbian wine: sweet, not strong. Mentorean: like the work of Mentor, famous silversmith in early fourth century B.C.E. Pactolus: the gold-bearing river in Lydia; see note to poem 1.6. Ruber: The Ruber (literally “Red”) Sea usually refers to the modern Persian Gulf, although it could refer to the modern Red Sea or Indian Ocean. Alcinous’ gifts: to Ulysses.

422 NOTES TO BOOK 1

15. Addressed to Cynthia. Lines 15–16 have been relocated, since they seem to make better sense in their new location. Lines could have shifted due to copy- ist’s error. Calypso: detained Ulysses eight years on the island of Ogygia, until Athena commanded her to build a raft for him. Hypsipyle: queen of Lemnos. When Jason stopped there, he fell in love with her but continued on his voyage. Evadne: devoted wife of Capaneus, who was killed by a thunderbolt from Zeus. She threw herself on her husband’s pyre. Alphesiboea: Her brothers killed her husband, Alcmaeon, because he took a lover while in exile. Alphesiboea avenged him by killing them.

16. Narrated by the doorway of a beloved, not necessarily Cynthia. Tarpeian modesty: refers to Tarpeia, one of the original Vestal Virgins, although see poem 4.4 for an account of Tarpeia’s fatal unchastity.

17. Addressed partially to Cynthia, partially to a third party, and partially to the Nereids. Cassiope: harbor in Corcyra. the Tyndarids: Castor and Pollux, protectors of sailors; they were thought to appear as the phenomenon we today call Saint Elmo’s ﬁre. Doris: daughter of Oceanus and Tethys and mother of the Nereids.

18. Addressed to Cynthia. the Arcadian god: Pan, who was in love with Pitys, the pine nymph.

19. Addressed to Cynthia. the Phylacid hero: Protesilaus, descendant of Phylacus, was the ﬁrst Greek killed at Troy. His ghost was allowed to visit his widow, Laodamia, after which she killed herself. Tellus: Earth, goddess of nourishment and productivity; she absorbs bodies and is here associated with the dead.

20. Addressed to Gallus. See poems 1.5, 1.10, and 1.13. Ascanius: river ﬂowing into the gulf of Cius on southern Propontis (Sea of Marmora). the Minyae: the Argonauts, after the Thessalian king Minyas. Theiodamantean Hylas: Hylas’ father was Theiodamas. Anio: river ﬂowing down the Sabine Hills through Tibur to the Tiber. See note to poems 3.22 and 4.7.

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the Gigantean . . . shore: the Phlegraean fields just north of Naples. Hadryades: wood nymphs. Pagasa: Thessalian port where the Argo was built and from which it set sail. the Phasis: a river in Colchis, flowing into the Black Sea. the Athamantid: Helle, daughter of Athamas; to escape her cruel stepmother, Ino, she took a winged ram with golden wool, provided by Neptune, to fly to Colchis. While passing over the water, she became frightened and fell into the sea that became known as “Helle’s Sea,” the Hellespont. Mysian rocks: south shore of the Propontis. Zetes . . . and . . . Calais: This version is found only here; elsewhere, Zetes and Calais, sons of Aquilo, god of the north wind, persuade the Argonauts to give up the search for Hercules and are then killed by him. Orithyia: daughter of Erechtheus, son of Pandion and king of Athens; mother of Zetes and Calais. Hamadryads: tree nymphs, but seem to stand for nymphs in general; here, they are water nymphs. Pege: spring in Mysia. Alcides: Hercules, as grandson of Alcaeus, father of Amphitryon; but see note on Alcmene in poem 2.22 A.

21. The Gallus referred to is not the Gallus of the other poems in this book; this one appears to be a kinsman of Propertius’ who died in the seige of Perusia (modern Perugia) in 41 B.C.E. See poem 1.22. In this poem, Propertius imag- ines his kinsman’s dying wish.

22. Addressed to Tullus. See poems 1.1, 1.6, and 1.14. In poem 4.1, Propertius implies his birthplace was Asisium (modern Assisi). Perusia (modern Perugia) was not Umbrian but Etruscan. It seems from this that Propertius was from the plain between Perusia and Asisium, closer to Asisium. Penates: household gods.

NOTES TO BOOK TWO

1. Prologue poem, addressed to Maecenas. Ossa: one of the mountains, along with Pelion, the giants Ephialtes and Otus threw on top of Olympus, in an attempt to reach the Olympian gods. the Ixionid: Pirithous, son of Ixion, king of the Lapiths, who declared war against Theseus. When the two armies came face to face, the two men were seized with empathy and became close friends. Later, while he attempted, with Theseus’ help, to steal Proserpina from the underworld, Pirithous was caught by Pluto and tied to his father’s wheel.

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the Menoetiad: Patroclus, son of Menoetius, Achilles’ companion at Troy. Enceladus: the ﬁnal foe vanquished by Jupiter before he could assume rule of the universe. Enceladus, a giant, was bound beneath Mount Aetna, his rumblings and ﬁre-breathing said to cause volcanic eruptions. One battle between the gods and the giants took place in the Phlegraean Fields, north of Naples. Phrygian forebears: Aeneas and his followers who sailed from Troy, in Phrygia, to found Rome. Caesar traced direct lineage from Iulus, Aeneas’ son. love potions . . . Phaedra: In referring to Phaedra’s love potions, Propertius either accesses a version of the story unknown to us or invents a detail that suits his purpose. the Colchian: Medea of Colchis, learned in the arts of witchcraft. Iolcus was Jason’s native town in Thessaly, where Medea made Jason’s father young again with her magic concoction. Machaon . . . Philoctetes: The doctor Machaon cured Philoctetes, wounded by a poisoned arrow at Troy. Phyllyrid Chiron . . . Phoenix: The Centaur Chiron, son of Jupiter and the nymph Philyra, restored the sight of Phoenix, who had been blinded by his father. Epidaurian god . . . Androgeos: Asclepius, who had a sanctuary at Epidaurus, restored to life Androgeos, son of King Minos of Crete, who had died young. the Mysian youth: Telephus, king of Mysia, wounded by Achilles.

2. Dulichian: of Dulichium, one of the islands in the group belonging to Ithaca. See note to poem 2.14. Ischomache: This name is known to us only from this poem; she was apparently one of the Lapith women the Centaurs attempted to carry off during the wedding of Pirithous. Brimo: Brimo bore three daughters to Mercury. Boebeis: a lake in Thessaly. divas the shepherd once pondered: refers to the judgment of Paris.

3. Begins with a sneer from an unidentiﬁed counterpart; what follows is Proper- tius’ defense. Maeotic: Lake Maeotis is the modern Sea of Azov near the Crimea. Ariadne: See notes to poems 1.3 and 3.17. Aeolian: refers to the poetry of Sappho and Alcaeus, who wrote in the Aeolic dialect. Aganippaean: Aganippe was a spring on Mount Helicon, an abode of the Muses. Corinna: lyric poet of Tanagra in Boeotia, ﬁfth century B.C.E. Melampus: son of Amythaon and brother of Bias. Either he or his brother was in love with Pero, and in order to win her, had to steal cattle belonging to Iphiclus.

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4. the nocturnal Cytaean: the sorceress Medea, as being from Cytaea, a town in Colchis; her witchcraft is imagined to be worked at night. Perimede: a sorceress in Theocritus, Idyll 2.

5. Addressed to Cynthia. The ﬁrst time she is mentioned by name in book 2. Carpathian . . . Aquilonian . . . Notus: the Carpathian sea, between Rhodes and Crete, could be affected by the north wind (Aquilo); the southwest wind (Notus) was known for bringing clouds and storms.

6. Addressed to Cynthia. Lais: a courtesan in Ephyre (an ancient name for Corinth). Thais: an Athenian courtesan with many admirers, the subject of an eponymous comedy by Menander. Ericthonian populace: Ericthonius was a mythical king of Athens. Phryne: a courtesan from Thespiae, who offered to pay to rebuild Thebes after it was destroyed by Alexander. Centaurs . . . Pirithous: Centaurs tried to rape the bride at Pirithous’ wedding to Hippodamia, leading to the battle between the Lapiths and the Centaurs. See poem 2.33 B. Admetus’ spouse: Alcestis, who offered to die in place of her husband.

7. This poem appears to have been written at the time (28 B.C.E.) when Augustus ﬁrst introduced moral legislation, then withdrew it, due to its unpopularity. Moral legislation was successfully passed in 18 B.C.E. Borysthenis: a town at the mouth of the river Borysthenes (modern Dnieper).

8. Haemon: son of Creon of Thebes, pledged to marry Antigone; killed himself at her tomb. Haemonian: of Haemonia, an ancient name for Thessalia, the region in northern Greece where Pthia, Achilles’ town, was located.

9 A. Addressed to an unidentiﬁed woman, perhaps Cynthia.

9 B. Addressed to a rival. Propertius compares himself to Eteocles and Polynices.

10. In this poem, Octavian is referred to as Augustus, indicating a date of composition later than 27 B.C.E. Helicon: mountain in Boeotia, famous for poetic associations.

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Haemonian steed: Thessalian (Haemonian) horses were famous. Ascraean springs: Hesiod was from Ascra in Boeotia. Propertius seems to imply that the water from the lower Permessus was appropriate for an elegiac poet, while the higher springs of Ascra, with associations of loftier poetry, are not yet accessible to him. See poem 2.13 A. Permessus’ stream: Permessus was a stream at the base of Mount Helicon.

12. Apparently a description of a painting of the boy god, Love, depicted with wings and bow and arrows.

13 A. Susa: capital city of Persia. Achaemenian: Achaemenes was Persian ruler before Cyrus. the Ascraean grove: grove of Muses on Mount Helicon, where Hesiod received in- spiration. Pierian oak . . . Mount Ismarus: Pieria was in Macedonia; Ismarus, a mountain in Thrace. Both places were haunts of the musician-enchanter Orpheus. Inachian Linus: Inachus was ﬁrst king of the Argives; Linus, a legendary singer.

13 B. an Attalic couch: King Attalus of Pergamum was believed to have invented a technique for weaving gold into fabric. the Pthian man: Achilles. Idalian peaks: Idalion was a city in Cyprus, sacred to Venus.

14. Couplets 11/12 and 13/14 have been reversed here, to give better sequence. The Atreid: Agamemnon, son of Atreus. Dulichia: a name for Ithaca, found only here, based on the name of another island (Dulichium) in Ithaca’s domain. Perhaps Propertius knew a version of the story that indicated a connection for Ulysses with Dulichia, or perhaps it is simply a poetic usage. the Minoid: Ariadne, daughter of Minos. See notes to poems 1.3 and 3.17. the Daedalian path: the labyrinth, constructed by Daedalus. Cytherea: Venus, after her following on the island of Cythera, off of which the goddess was born.

15. the Laconian girl: Helen. Apollo’s sister: Diana.

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16. Addressed to Cynthia. praetor: Roman magistrate who aided consuls, administered justice, commanded armies. the Illyric lands: Illyria in Epirus (modern Albania), where the Acroceraunia was a dangerous promontory for sailors. Eriphyla: wife of Amphiaraus, took a bribe to have him join the Seven against Thebes; he died in war, and she was killed by her son to avenge the death. See note to poem 3.13. Creusa: a princess of Corinth with whom Jason took up, abandoning the sorceress Medea, who then sent Creusa a crown and a robe which, when she put them on, caused her to burn up. Check the leader: i.e., Antony. He punishes those girls who have lied: i.e., Jupiter. Sidonian robe: crimson dyes from Sidon (or Tyre) in Phoenicia were prized by Roman women for use in garments. the Auster: the south wind; its blowing indicated a coming storm.

17. Couplets 13/14 and 15/16 have been reversed.

18 B. Aurora . . . Tithonus: Aurora, goddess of the dawn, was Apollo’s attendant, leading him across the sky, as he piloted the sun with his chariot. She loved Tithonus, a Trojan prince, and secured for him the gift of eternal life, forget- ting to request also eternal youth. He lived forever, getting frailer and more wrinkled. In the familiar version of the myth, she ﬁnally turns him into a grasshopper.

19. Clitumnus: a spring that rises from a ﬁeld by the Via Flaminia, in Umbria, near where Propertius grew up. See note to poem 3.22.

20. The funereal Attic bird: the Athenian princess Philomela, who was abused by her sister’s husband, Tereus, who cut out her tongue. She wrote to her sister, Procne, who killed her own son, Itys, and served him to her husband to avenge her sister’s pain. The gods turned them into birds. Niobe: After Niobe bragged that she was a more sucessful mother than Latona, La- tona’s children, Apollo and Diana, killed her children, after which the other gods turned Niobe into stone, from which tears continued to pour. Danaë: was shut in a bronze chamber by her father, Acrisius, who feared a child

428 NOTES TO BOOK 2

born of her. Jupiter saw her in her prison and had sex with her in the form of a shower of gold. Their child was Perseus. Aeacus: judge of souls of the dead. Tityus: In a punishment similar to that of Prometheus, the giant Tityus, for his attempted rape of Latona, was chained in Hades, where vultures ate his intestines, which were perpetually restored, so that the punishment was endless. As he was chained prostrate, his body was said to cover nine acres.

21. Panthus: probably a Greek pseudonym for a Roman contemporary of Propertius’. Dodona: See note to poem 1.9. the Colchian girl: See note to poem 2.1. the young Dulichian: Ulysses. See notes to poems 2.2 and 2.14.

22 A. Addressed to someone referred to as Demophoon. Couplet 11/12 has been transposed to come after line 24. Demophoon: As with Panthus in poem 2.21, Demophoon is a Greek name, probably a pseudonym. In myth, he was a son of Theseus and the lover who betrayed Phyllis. See note to poem 2.24 C. insane rhythms of the Phrygian: refers to worship of the Magna Mater, also known as Cybele, which originated in Phrygia and was popular at Rome. See introduction. Thamyras: a Thracian bard, who challenged the Muses to a singing contest; having lost, he was deprived of his sight and his musical gift. Alcmene: wife of Amphitryon; Jupiter, disguised as Amphitryon, visited her at night and made the stars—including the constellations of the Greater and Lesser Bears—stop their movements, thereby doubling the time for him to be with Alcmene. Her son by him was Hercules. Pelides: Achilles, son of Peleus.

23. Euphrates and Orontes: rivers from today’s Middle East, indicating regions from which slaves were likely to come to Rome as prostitutes. The Euphrates is in modern Iraq, the Orontes in modern Syria.

24 C. Lernaean hydras . . . Hesperian dragon: refer to labors of Hercules. the Sibyl’s lifespan: the Sibyl at Cumae was supposed to live for one thousand years. Alcides: Hercules, as grandson of Alcaeus (father of Amphitryon), but see note on Alcmene in poem 2.22 A. the Minoid: Ariadne, daughter of Minos. See notes to poems 1.3 and 3.17.

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Demophoon, Phyllis: Demophoon, son of Theseus, promised to marry Phyllis, daughter of the king of Thrace; when he did not return, she killed herself.

25. A version of advice or consolation to someone enthralled by love. Calvus: born 82 B.C.E.; love poet of Catullus’ generation. Tithonus: see note to poem 2.18 B. Perillus: the inventor of a bronze bull, built for the tyrant Phalaris of Agrigentum, so that victims could be roasted alive, making the bull appear to howl; Perillus was the ﬁrst to be killed in this way. the Caucasian vultures: fed on the entrails of Prometheus, chained to Mount Caucasus, in punishment for having introduced fire and forethought to mortals.

26 A. Helle: see note to poem 1.20. Castor and his brother: i.e., Pollux, protectors of sailors; see note to poem 1.17. Leucothoë: Helle’s stepmother, Ino, who tormented the girl, was attacked by Helle’s father, Athamas, and jumped into the ocean, thereby becoming the sea goddess Leucothoe. See note to poem 1.20. Glaucus: a ﬁsherman, who ate a magic herb and became a sea god. Nereids: sea nymphs, daughters of Nereus, a sea god. Nesaeë, Cymothoë: names of Nereids. the Arionian lyre: Arion was a musician who, while traveling by boat, was robbed by the crew and forced to jump overboard; a dolphin came to his rescue and carried him safely to shore.

26 B. rivers of Cambyses and Croesus: Wealthy kings, Cambyses was son of Cyrus and king of Persia, Croesus was king of Lydia. Both lived in the sixth century B.C.E.; and both were written about by Herodotus. The Pactolus was a gold-bearing river in Lydia; no such river is known to have existed in Persia.

26 C. Eurus: the southeast wind. Auster: the south wind. Orion . . . Haedus: both constellations rose in autumn, signalling storm season for sailors.

2.27. Mavors: an archaic name for Mars.

430 NOTES TO BOOK 2

28 A. Addressed to Jupiter, and to a girl. Couplet 33/34 has been transposed to come after line 2. Pelasgian: indicating Argive, or pre-Hellenic, inhabitants of Greece; i.e., “ancient,” “venerable.” Io: See notes to poem 1.3. Ino . . . Leucothoë: see note to poems 1.20 and 2.26 A. Andromeda: See notes to poems 1.3 and 4.7. Callisto: an attendant of Diana’s; Jupiter had an affair with her, then turned her into a bear to avoid Juno’s watchful eye. Diana killed the bear, whereupon Jupiter made her a constellation, the Greater Bear. Semele: lover of Jupiter; burned to death when he appeared to her in his divine form; their son was Bacchus. See note to poem 3.17. Maeonian heroines: i.e., told of by Homer; Homer was supposed to have been born at Sardis in Lydia (Maeonia).

28 C. Addressed to Persephone, Pluto, and to a girl. Antiope: see notes to poems 1.4 and 3.15. Tyro: daughter of Salmoneus; mother of Pelias and Neleus by Neptune, who had sex with her while disguised as the river Enipeus. See note to poem 1.13. Pasiphaë: wife of King Minos of Crete, mother of Ariadne, and of the Minotaur, whom she bore after having sex with a bull. See note to poem 3.19.

29 A. Sidonian turban: See note to poem 2.16.

29 B. Vesta: the Roman goddess of the hearth; in her temple at the Roman Forum, the eternal ﬂame was guarded by Vestal Virgins and could never be permitted to go out.

30 A. Tanais: the modern river Don (in southern Russia). a Pegasean back: i.e., like that of the winged horse Pegasus, who arose from the blood of the Gorgon; Bellerophon rode him when we went to face the Chimera.

30 B. the Maeander: river in Phrygia and Caria; Minerva (Pallas Athena) invented the ﬂute, but threw it in the Maeander as she thought she looked ugly when her cheeks puffed up to play it. the Hyrcanian sea: the Caspian Sea.

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Penates: See note to poem 1.22. the Sisters: the Muses. Semele: See notes to poems 2.28 A and 3.17. Io: See notes to poem 1.3. the Winged One: Love. the Virgins: the Muses. Oeagrus: a Thracian prince, who had sex with one of the Muses; their son was Orpheus.

31. Written on the occasion of the dedication of the portico (and presumably the entire complex) of the Temple to Apollo on the Palatine by Octavian in Octo- ber, 28 B.C.E. See introduction. Danaus: king of Argos, who had ﬁfty daughters; all except one killed their husbands on their wedding night at their father’s command. Ortygia: name for Delos, birthplace of Apollo and Diana; or grove at Ephesus, rival with Delos for being their birthplace. See note to poem 3.22. Gauls cast down from Parnassus’, peak: refers to a victory over Gauls from Delphi in 278 B.C.E. See note on Brennus in poem 3.13. the Tantalid: Niobe, daughter of Tantalus. See note to poem 2.20.

32. Addressed to Cynthia. Couplet 1/2 has been transposed to come after line 10. Praeneste: modern Palestrina; an oracle was located there. Aeaean Telegonus: Telegonus was Ulysses’ son with Circe, who lived on the island Aeaea; he was the legendary founder of Tusculum, near Rome. See note to poem 3.12. Herculean Tibur: modern Tivoli, a town about eighteen miles northeast of Rome, with a temple to its patron god, Hercules. For connections with Cynthia see notes to poem 3.16. Lanuvium: a town with a temple to Juno about ﬁfteen miles southeast of Rome, on the Via Appia. the Trivian goddess: Diana, because she was worshipped at crossroads (trivia). the Pompeian portico: refers to the portico in front of the theater of Pompeius Mag- nus in the Campus Martius. Attalian hangings: See note to poem 2.13 B. a drowsy Maron: a priest of Apollo in the Odyssey. The Tyndarid: Helen, daughter of Tyndareus. Ida: the mountain, personiﬁed. Hamadryad sisters: tree nymphs, as sisters of the water nymph Oenone, with whom Paris slept on Mount Ida. Sileni: older satyrs such as the famous Silenus.

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Deucalion: survived a ﬂood sent to punish human evil. Minos: king of Crete. See notes to poems 1.3, 2.1, 2.28 C, 3.19, and 4.11. Danaë: See note to poem 2.20.

33 A. the Inachid: Io, daughter of Inachus. She was identiﬁed with the Egyptian goddess Isis. See notes to poem 1.3. On Isis, see introduction. Ausonian: The Ausones were the indigenous inhabitants of Campania when Greeks ﬁrst arrived in the eighth century B.C.E. Later, the term became synony- mous with “Roman” or “Italian.”

33 B. Couplets 41/42 and 43/44 have been reversed. Icarian oxen: a constellation. Cecropian colonists: Cecrops was the legendary ﬁrst king of Athens. His men were drunk with wine from Icarus when they killed him. Eurytion: Centaur who tried to carry off Hippodamia at her wedding to Pirithous, thus sparking the battle between the Centaurs and the Lapiths. Lyaeus: literally “releaser from care,” a name for Bacchus; comes to signify wine. Falernian: a Campanian wine.

34: Addressed to a Lynceus, probably a pseudonym. This poem was probably written close to 26 B.C.E., since the poet Cornelius Gallus is referred to as “recently dead,” and he was banished and committed suicide in 26. The guest: Paris. the Colchian: See note to poem 2.1. Aratus: poet of the third century B.C.E., who wrote a poem called the Phainomena, about constellations and weather signs, much imitated by Vergil in his Georgics. Philitas . . . Callimachus: Philitas was a Greek elegiac poet of the third century B.C.E. At the beginning of Callimachus’ Aitia, he is transported in a dream to Mount Helicon. On both poets, see introduction. Acheloüs: largest river in Greece, separated Aetolia and Acarnania. Maeandrian wave: See note to poem 2.30 B. Adrastus: king of Argus, went as one of the Seven against Thebes. Amphiaraus: See notes to poems 2.16 and 3.13. Jove, of Capaneus: Capaneus was blasted by one of Jove’s thunderbolts. Antimachus: of Colophon, wrote a Thebaid c. 400 B.C.E. Galaesus: a river in Calabria. Ascraean poet: the poet Hesiod, from Ascra in Boeotia. See notes to poems 2.10 and 2.13 A. Cynthius: Apollo.

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Calvus: See note to poem 2.25. Gallus: Cornelius Gallus, born 70 B.C.E.; highly regarded poet in antiquity and thought to be one of the originators of Roman elegiac poetry; only ten lines of his poetry survive.

NOTES TO BOOK THREE

1. Prologue poem, addressed to Callimachus and Philitas, and later, to Rome. Callimachus and . . . Philitas: Hellenistic poets; see introduction. See poem 2.34. Bactra: part of Parthian empire. See note to poem 4.3. the Sisters’ mount: Mount Helicon, where the Muses live. Pegasides: the Muses, for their assocation with the Hippocrene spring that the winged horse Pegasus discovered by digging with his hoof. the Haemonian hero: Achilles. Deiphobus, Helenus, Polydamas: Trojan heroes in the Iliad. the Oetaean god: Hercules, because his life ended on Mount Oeta; he captured Troy once by himself and then, during the Trojan War, it was his bow, used by Philoctetes, that killed Paris. See note to poem 1.13. the Lycian god: Apollo.

2. Taenarian columns: made of marble from Taenarus in Greece. the Phaeacian woods: of King Alcinous in the Odyssey. the Marcian stream: the Aqua Marcia, one of the aqueducts that brought water to Rome.

3. Bellerophon: rode the winged horse Pegasus to ﬁght the Chimera. See note to poem 3.1. Ennius: Roman epic poet of the late third to early second century B.C.E. a Castalian tree: The Castalian spring was on Mount Parnassus, but Propertius has imagined it on Helicon. Tegeaeus: Arcadian. Aonian: Boeotian; i.e., on Mount Helicon. Philitean: of the poet Philitas.

4. The god Caesar: one of two instances in which Propertius uses the word deus to refer to Augustus, something no other contemporary writer did. See note to poem 4.11. Ausonian: See note to poem 2.33 A.

434 NOTES TO BOOK 3

5. Acheron: one of the rivers of the underworld. Dulichian Irus: Irus is the beggar in book 18 of the Odyssey; Dulichia, often for Propertius, stands for Ithaca; it was a nearby island. See note to poem 2.14. Eurus: See note to poem 2.26 C. Perrhaebian Pindus: mountain range in northern Greece. Tisiphone: one of the Furies. Alcmaeonian furies and Phineus’ hunger: Alcmaeon killed his mother and was pursued by the Furies; Phineus blinded his children and was prevented from eating by the Harpies. Tityus: See note to poem 2.20.

6. Addressed to Propertius’ slave, Lygdamus. Contains a reported speech by the (unnamed) woman about whom Propertius is inquiring. In the speech, the woman claims her rival has used witchcraft. For more on witchcraft in love, see poem 4.5. Lygdamus: a slave of Propertius’. See notes to poem 4.7.

7. Addressed to money, a friend named Paetus, Aquilo, Neptune, the sand, ships, the Nereids, and Thetis. Pharian ports: Alexandria. the Carpathian sea: between Rhodes and Crete. Aquilo . . . Orithyia: See notes to poem 1.20. Argynnus: In one version of the story, Agamemnon fell in love with a boy named Argynnus while the Greek ﬂeet was stuck at Aulis, waiting to depart for Troy. If we knew more of that version, we might know what is meant by “Argynnus’ punishment” and why Agamemnon did not release the ﬂeet, thereby causing the delay that ultimately resulted in the death of his daughter Iphigenia. the Atreid: Agamemnon, son of Atreus. Penates: See note to poem 1.22. Orician: from Oricos, in Epirus.

8 A. Tyndarid: See note to poem 2.32.

9. Addressed to Maecenas. Lysippus, Calamis, Apelles, Parrhasius, Mentor, Mys, Pheidias, Praxiteles: a list of famous Greek artists and their accomplishments, compared in pairs. the Elean chariot: refers to Elis, in the Peloponnese, famous for its horses, and host to the Olympic games.

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Cadmus’ citadel: refers to the attack on Thebes by the Epigoni, to avenge the defeat of the Seven, their fathers. the Scaean gates: the west gates of Troy. Apollo’s citadel: Apollo and Neptune built Troy for Laomedon. Coan poet: Philitas. Coeus: one of the Titans who fought the Olympian gods on the Phlegraean ﬁelds. Oromedon: mountain on the island of Cos; its signiﬁcance here is obscure.

10. Camenae: literally “Singers,” name related to the word carmen; water nymphs with power of prophecy. They had a sacred spring outside Porta Capena at Rome and were later identiﬁed with Greek Muses. Niobe: See note to poem 2.20. mouths of seabirds: Alcyone was turned into a kingﬁsher when she jumped into the ocean in despair at the drowning of her husband, Ceyx. Itys: son of Tereus and Procne; killed by his mother and served to his father. See note to poem 2.20.

11. Couplets 65/66 and 67/68 have been transposed to follow line 58. The Colchian: Medea. Aesonian dwellings: the realm of Aeson, father of Jason. Maeotic Penthesilea: the Queen of the Amazons, who lived near Lake Maeotis (modern sea of Azov, near the Crimea). Omphale: Queen of Lydia, for whom Hercules worked as a maid, while she used his lion skin and club. whore queen of incestuous Canopus: Cleopatra. Liburnian prows: of Augustan warships armed with battering rams. baris: barge used on the Nile, moved by poling. with Caesar safe: i.e., Augustus. Where now the Scipian forces . . . at our feet: a rhetorical question and statements to the effect that the greatness of Rome’s past triumphs would be worth nothing if the nation had been afraid to face Cleopatra. These four lines featuring historical ﬁgures are followed by four dedicated to semi-legendary ones: Marcus Curtius, Publius Decius, Horatius Cocles, and Marcus Valerius Corvus (the Crow). Leucadian Apollo: temple to Apollo on promontory of Leucas near Actium. See notes to poems 4.1 and 4.6.

12. Addressed to Postumus, possibly a senator and relative of Propertius. See introduction. the Araxes: river in Armenia (the modern Aras), that ﬂowed into the Caspian Sea.

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Ismara, Calpe: Ismara was a mountain and town of the Ciconians, encountered by Ulysses on his return from Troy; Calpe was one of the pillars of Hercules at modern Gilbratar, beyond which Ulysses traveled in some versions. Lampetie: A daughter of Apollo, she watched over his sacred cattle on the island of Trinacria; the ﬂesh of the cattle groaned while being roasted by Ulysses’ men. the Aeaean girl: Apparently, Propertius means Calypso, although the island of Aeaea in the Odyssey is the home of Circe. See note to poem 2.32.

13. Erycinan shell . . . Ruber Sea: Eryx in Sicily (modern Erice) was the site of a temple to Venus (sailors made the pilgrimage up a steep mountain partially to visit the prostitutes that plied their trade nearby); “Erycinan shell” is thus “Venus’ shell,” by which Propertius probably means mother of pearl, although it is not referred to as such in other sources. On the Ruber, see note to poem 1.14. Cadmean Tyre: Cadmus, who founded the citadel at Thebes, was originally from Tyre. Icariotid: Penelope, daughter of Icarius. Evadne: See note to poem 1.15. Cydonian: Cydonia was an ancient city on the northern coast of Crete. Brennus: a chieftain from Gaul who attacked Delphi, with its temple to the Pythian Apollo on Mount Parnassus, in 278 B.C.E.; he was repulsed by a miraculous storm. Polymestor . . . Polydorus: King Polymestor of Thrace murdered Polydorus, who had been sent there by his father, King Priam of Troy; Aeneas discovered this while cutting a sapling, which bled the human blood of the young man buried there. Eriphyla . . . Amphiaraus: Eriphyla, wife of Amphiaraus, was bribed to reveal his hiding place; as a seer, Amphiaraus knew he would die if he joined the Seven against Thebes, and had gone into hiding. The earth opened to swallow him as he rode on his chariot. See note to poem 2.16.

14. Couplet 15/16 has been transposed to come after line 12, and 13/14 to come after 16. Taygetus: a mountain in Sparta. Thermodon: river in Cappadocia, by which the Amazons lived. Eurotas: river in Sparta where Helen bathed. who is said / to have taken up arms: not in any other source.

15. Lycinna: according to this poem, the woman who introduced Propertius to sex.

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Dirce . . . Antiope: See note to poem 1.4. After freeing herself, Antiope ﬂed to the Cithaeron mountain range before ﬁnding her sons, Zethus and Amphion, who did not recognize her until made to by an old farmer, who remembered their story. Amphion was a musician, whose music made the stones at Thebes rise to form the city walls of their own volition. Eurus . . . Notus: See notes to poems 2.26 and 2.5.

16. Tibur: a town near Rome; in poem 4.7, Cynthia is supposed to be buried at Tibur; in poem 2.32, she travels there (see note to that poem). the Anian nymph: i.e., the Anio river, that passed through Tibur. See notes to poems 1.20, 3.22, and 4.7. Sciron: one of several villains who terrorized people near Athens and who were done away with by Theseus; Sciron would force travelers to wash his feet on a narrow cliff-top path; while they were thus engaged, he would kick them over to their deaths.

17. Addressed to Bacchus, the god of wine. Ariadne: abandoned by Theseus on Naxos, she was taken by Bacchus to be his bride, carried in a lynx-drawn chariot to the heavens, where her crown became a constellation. See note to poem 1.3. your mother’s delivery: Semele, who was having an affair with Jupiter, was tricked by Juno into asking Jupiter to appear to her as a god with his thunderbolts, fashioned for him by Vulcan in his forge under Mount Aetna; when he unwillingly did so, she was burned to death. Jupiter rescued their child, Bacchus, from her womb and carried him within his own thigh until it was time for him to be born. See note to poem 2.28 A. Nysian: Nysa was a mountain in the East, to which Jupiter had Mercury send Bac- chus to avoid Juno’s persecution. Lycurgus: king of Thrace who forebade worship of Bacchus; he was driven mad and, thinking he was cutting down vines, killed his son. Pentheus’ corpse: the story of Euripides’ Bacchae. Pentheus, king of Thebes, refused to allow Bacchus to enter the city. Bacchus drove the Theban women mad, and a group of them, including Pentheus’ mother, tore the king limb from limb. Bassaric locks: the bassara was a fox skin worn by followers of Bacchus; extended here to refer to hair. Dircean Thebes: Bacchus was born at Thebes; King Pentheus rejected his worship there. For Dirce, see notes to poems 1.4 and 3.15. Cybele: goddess whose worship originated in Phrygia, near Mount Ida. See notes to poem 3.22. See also introduction.

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18. Poem on the death of Gaius Claudius Marcellus, Augustus’ prized nephew, in 23 B.C.E. Avernus: lake near Naples that supposedly led to the underworld. Baiae: on the Bay of Naples, north of the city, famous in imperial times for its lavish villas and increasingly decadent lifestyle. See note to poem 1.11. Misenus: in the Aeneid, the horn player who challenged the gods to a contest and was drowned by Triton. the Theban god: Hercules and Bacchus both were born at Thebes; Hercules legen- darily built the causeway on the land separating Lake Lucrinus from the sea, but he was not a god at the time; the cymbals would seem to indicate Bacchus in his procession through the human world. Attalic ﬁnery: See note to poem 2.13 B. Nireus: In the Iliad, he was considered the second most handsome Greek, after Achilles. the great Atreid: Agamemnon, son of Atreus; for his “second love,” for Argynnus, see note to poem 3.7. victor in Sicily: Marcus Claudius Marcellus, winner of spolia opima for hand-to- hand combat with Virdomarus in 222 B.C.E., and victor at Syracuse in 212 B.C.E. He was supposed to have been (unusually) transported to heaven after death, like Julius Caesar. See note to poem 4.10.

19. the Syrtes: sandbars off the coast of Africa, dangerous for sailors. Malea: promontory south of the Peloponnese. wooden cow: A beautiful bull had been sent to King Minos of Crete by Neptune. When Minos refused to sacriﬁce it, Neptune punished him by making his wife, Queen Pasiphaë, develop a passion for the bull. She built a wooden cow and, climbing inside, had sex with the bull; she later bore the Minotaur. See note to poem 2.28 C. the Salmonid: Tyro, daughter of Salmoneus. See notes to poems 1.13 and 2.28 C. Myrrha: in love with her father Cinyras, king of Cyprus; after their incest, she was punished by being turned into a myrrh tree. Scylla: daughter of King Nisus of Megara, she fell in love with King Minos of Crete, who was beseiging Megara. Megara’s safety was guaranteed by a purple lock of hair on Nisus’ white head; mad with passion for Minos, Scylla cut the purple lock; Megara was taken, and Scylla was dragged through the sea by Minos’ ship. Minos: Regarded by the gods as having been a just ruler, he became one of three judges in the underworld after his death. See note to poem 4.11.

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Orcus: a god of the underworld who punishes perjury; in Roman religion synony- mous with Dis, god of the underworld.

21. Lechaeum: the port of Corinth on the gulf of the same name.

22. Addressed to Tullus. See notes to poems 1.1, 1.6, 1.14, and 1.22. Dindymid . . . Cybele: the goddess Cybele of Dindymus. See note to poem 3.17. See also introduction. Athamantid Helle: See note to poem 1.20. Atlas: the giant who supported the earth’s globe. When Perseus was mistreated by him, he turned the giant into a mountain by showing him the Gorgon’s head; the Atlas Mountains in northwest Africa get their name from him. the Phorcid: the Gorgon Medusa, daughter of Phorkys; the reference is to a depic- tion of Perseus’ beheading of the Gorgon. Geryon’s stables . . . Antaeus: refer to labors of Hercules beyond Gibraltar and in Africa, respectively. Phasis: a river in Colchis, home to Medea, destination of Jason and his ship the Argo, which was built with wood from Mount Pelion, near the Thessalian coast. Ortygie: grove at Ephesus, that claimed to be Apollo and Diana’s birthplace, standing also for Ephesus itself, with its famous temple to Diana. Ortygie is a Greek (Ionic) form of the name, which would normally be Ortygia in Latin. See note to poem 2.31. the Cayster: river at whose mouth Ephesus lies. that water that fills its seven paths: refers to the seven mouths of the Nile. Anio . . . Clitumnus: two streams, the former coming through Tibur, with which Cynthia had associations; the latter rising in Umbria, near Propertius’ birthplace. See notes to poems 1.20, 3.16, 4.7 (Anio), and 2.19 (Clitumnus). drink for Pollux’ horse: Castor and Pollux watered their horses at the lacus Iutur- nae, in the Roman Forum after the battle of Lake Regillus in 499 B.C.E. Andromeda: See notes to poems 1.3 and 4.7. Ausonian feasts: refers to a feast from which Apollo did turn away in disgust; that at which Atreus served his brother, Thyestes, the flesh of his children. mother triggering her son’s demise: Meleager was son of King Oeneus and Queen Althaea of Calydon; at his birth, the fates told Althaea her son would die when a log then on the fire was burned up. She hid the log. As a man, Meleager led the hunt with Atalanta for a boar that was ravaging the country; his uncles ob- jected to his decision to give the boar’s head to Atalanta, so Meleager killed them, his mother’s brothers. On hearing the news, Althaea got the log and burned it; as soon as it was consumed, Meleager died.

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Pentheus: See note to poem 3.17. substituted deer: Agamemnon boasted he was a better hunter than Artemis (Diana), for which the goddess forebade the winds to blow, thus stranding the Greek fleet ready to sail for Troy, at Aulis. The seer Calchas informed Agamemnon that, in order to appease Artemis and receive favorable winds, it was necessary that he sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia; in one version of the story, Artemis, when she saw Iphigenia, substituted a deer for the sacrifice and took Iphigenia to be her priestess in the land of the Tauri. vile cowness: refers to the punishments Juno did impose on Io, daughter of King Inachus of Argos, after Io’s affair with Jupiter. See notes to poem 1.3. Sinis . . . cut planks: a giant near Athens who murdered people by placing them on a tree he held back and then catapulting them against a mountain. Sciron kicked his victims from a cliff to the rocks below, where they perished. Procrustes had two beds, one very short, the other quite long; tall people he forced onto the short bed, where he cut them to fit it; short people he put on the long bed, stretching them until they matched. All three villains were killed by Theseus in his youth. See note to poem 3.16.

24. The Syrtes: See note to poem 3.19. Sound Mind: There was in fact a temple to Mens Bona at Rome, promised by vow in 217 B.C.E., after the defeat of the Romans by Hannibal at Trasimene, and dedicated two years later.

NOTES TO BOOK FOUR

1. Prologue Poem. It is in two parts, the ﬁrst spoken by the poet, the second by a seer called Horos. In the ﬁrst section, the reader should imagine looking over the Roman Forum, perhaps from a point on the Palatine, so that the Temple of Quirinus (Romulus) on the Quirinal Hill can be seen. Propertius’ interlocutor is asked to imagine Rome at the time when it had recently been founded; the modern reader must also imagine Rome as it looked in Propertius’ day in order to have the appropriate double image. Couplet 87/88 has been transposed to come after line 68. Phoebus of Ships: refers to the Temple to Apollo on the Palatine. See introduction. The epithet “of Ships” for Apollo is not found in any other source. See poems 2.3 and 3.11. Evander: a mythical founder of Rome, father of a boy, Pallas. He founded a settle- ment on the Palatine, calling it Pallanteum, and established the Lupercalia (see below); Hercules visited him and killed the monster Cacus (see poem 4.9). In

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return, Evander began the cult of Hercules at Ara Maxima. Aeneas asked for his help and was given it. The Tarpeian father: i.e., Jupiter on mons Tarpeius (later called the Capitoline) before he had the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. that temple of Remus: i.e., the Temple of Quirinus on the Quirinal hill, recon- structed by Augustus and re-dedicated in 16 B.C.E. Quirinus in fact refers to Romulus, but Propertius here has it refer to Remus. See notes to poems 4.6 and 4.10. the Parilia: festival on 21 April for Pales, patron god and goddess of flocks and herds; one element was the leaping over bonfires of straw. As an example of a similarly ancient ritual, but one still observed in his own day, Propertius brings in the purification rites of the October Horse: A chariot race was held in the Campus Martius on 15 October and one horse from the winning pair was sacrificed; blood from its tail dripped on the hearth of the Regia in the Forum, and later the blood formed part of a compound for purificatory lustra. Other rites referred to are the Vestalia that took place on 9 June and the Suovetaurilia, in which pigs, cattle, and sheep were led around an area, then sacrificed, to secure divine protection of that area. the Fabian Luperci: The Lupercalia was an ancient fertility rite in which naked young men struck women on the Palatine with strips of goatskin; in Propertius’ time, it was performed, on 15 February, by men of standing. Lycmon: an Etruscan leader who helped Romulus against the Sabines and their leader, Tatius. See poem 4.4. Tities, Ramenes, Luceres: the three original Roman tribes. Bovillae, the Gabi, Alba, Fidenae: ancient towns near Rome. Penates: See note to poem 1.22. Iulus: son of Aeneas, supposed to be ancestor of the Julian line. the Sibyl trembling near Avernus: at Cumae, near Lake Avernus. See note to poems 1.11 and 3.18. Aventine Remus: The Aventine was the abode of Remus, while his brother, Rom- ulus, was on the Palatine (see poem 4.6); the lands to be purified should be the Palatine. the Pergamean seer: Cassandra. Ennius: lived 239–169 B.C.E. The Romans considered him the father of Latin poetry, but his poetry was also considered by them somewhat unsophisticated. Babylonian Orops . . . Conon: Orops and Horos are otherwise unknown to us; Archytas and Conon were Greek mathematicians and astronomers of the fourth and third centuries B.C.E. respectively. Conon, who was born in Samos, moved to Alexandria; while there he discovered a constellation and named it the Lock

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of Berenice, about which Callimachus wrote a poem that became famous and was translated by Catullus. the Hesperian sea: literally “the western sea.” Arria . . . Lupercus . . . Gallus: not known from other sources. Lucina . . . Cinara: Juno Lucina presided over childbirth; Cinara is not identified. Calchas: the seer who advised Agamemnon when the Greek fleet was stuck at Aulis. See note to poem 3.22. Atrides: Agamemnon, son of Atreus. Nauplius: father of Palamedes, who was unjustly killed by the Greeks at Troy, through Ulysses’ doing. When Ulysses was returning to Greece, Nauplius lured the fleet, with false beacons, to the rocks off Euboea, where it shipwrecked. Oliades: Ajax, son of Oileus, who pulled Cassandra away from the image of Athena (Minerva) at Troy; Athena in return sent a storm that destroyed Ajax’ ship, killing him. Mevania: modern Bevagna. golden amulet: a charm of Etruscan origin worn by boys of good family, taken off when the toga libera (toga virilis) was assumed, at around age seventeen. toga libera: also called the toga virilis or toga pura, worn by young men on their coming of age.

2. A statue of the god Vertumnus in the Roman Forum speaks. Volsinian hearths: Volsinii (at the site of modern Orvieto) was destroyed by the Ro- mans in 264 B.C.E., during the ﬁrst Punic War; a new Volsinii was founded (at modern Bolsena). Tuscan Way: The Tuscan Way (vicus Tuscus) entered the Roman Forum, perpendi- cular to the orientation of the Via Sacra; it ran from the Basilica Julia around the base of the Palatine to the Circus Maximus. It was regularly used for processions. Lycomedians: the Etruscans (Tuscans) led by Lycmon, who aided Romulus against the Sabines and their leader, Tatius. divine Planter: i.e., Jupiter. Numa: Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome (c. 715–673 B.C.E.). Vertum- nus is a deity of great antiquity. Mamurius: Mamurius Veturius was a legendary sculptor at the time of Numa. Oscan earth: the territory where Mamurius was buried.

3. Spoken by a Roman woman to her husband, away at war. Bactra, the Seric foe, Getae: Bactra was the main city of Bactria (modern Afghanistan and Turkestan); the Seres were the Chinese; the Getae were a Thra- cian tribe on the lower Danube.

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Ocnus: a mythical ﬁgure condemned to sit weaving rope from grass, which was de- voured by a donkey as fast as he could weave it. the Araxes: See note to poem 3.12. the Parthian: The Parthians (a nomadic people in modern Iran) symbolized the “Eastern foe” for the Romans; ever since the Crassi lost their military standards to the Parthians in 53 B.C.E., there had been talk of sending an expedition to re- trieve them. Finally, the Parthians surrendered to Roman rule—by treaty not war—in 20 B.C.E. Hippolyte: queen of the Amazons. Scythian mountains: the region between the Carpathians and the modern river Don (in southern Russia). the Capena gate: the gate of the Via Appia through which one would pass when leaving for the East.

4. Tarpeia’s crime and death. Tatius: Titus Tatius, the Sabine king who led an attack against the Rome of Romulus. Curesian: an adjective from Cures, the principal village of the Sabines. the Curia: An ancient division of the original Roman tribes, it was in Propertius’ day the name for the Senate House in the Roman Forum. Scylla: See note to poem 3.19. Ausonian: See note to poem 2.33 A. Hymenaeus: a deity invoked at weddings. Strymonid: from the river Strymon in Thrace, “woman of Thrace,” i.e., an Amazon. Thermodon: See note to poem 3.14. Parilia: See note to poem 4.1.

5. Diatribe against a familiar type—the procuress. The central section is a speech by the woman herself, giving advice to a younger woman on how to keep the upper hand in a relationship. In the Latin manuscripts, lines 55–56 of the present poem are identical to lines 1–2 of poem 1.2 and are probably an in- terpolation in this poem. They have therefore been omitted here. Manes: spirits of the dead. Collina: place on the Quirinal hill, near the porta Collina, where Vestal virgins found guilty of unchastity were buried alive in an underground chamber. Witches would gather herbs growing in this area, believing them conducive to creating love potions. Dorozantes: this name is not attested elsewhere.

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Eurypylus: a legendary king of the island of Cos. “Coan Minerva” equates to “Coan fabric” since Minerva was patron goddess of weaving. Attalic couches: See note to poem 2.13 B. palm-bearing Thebes: i.e., the Thebes in Egypt. murra: a mineral out of which fancy cups and vases were fashioned. celibate days of Isis: See introduction. Iole, Amycle: understood to be maids of the woman receiving the advice. April was a month dedicated to honoring Venus, and the woman’s birthday would be arriving in May. Menander’s . . . Thais: See note to poem 2.6. Getae: See note to poem 4.3. those around whose barbarian necks . . . chalked up: Slaves who arrived in Rome would have identifying placards hanging from their necks, and they might be required to jump or run to demonstrate their strength. Their feet were covered in chalk when they were offered for sale. Coan vestment: See note to poem 1.2 Notus: See note to poem 2.5. Acanthis: the procuress.

6. A poem in honor of Octavian’s victory at Actium in 31 B.C.E. over Antony and Cleopatra, purporting also to explain the origin of the Temple to Apollo on the Palatine. See poem 2.31. This poem was written after 20 B.C.E., when a treaty was signed with the Parthians (see below). See introduction and note to poem 4.2. Philitean ivy-clusters: the poetry of Philitas of Cos. Cyrenean waters: the poetry of Callimachus of Cyrene, with reference to a passage in his Hymn to Apollo, in which pure water is a symbol of a clean, uncluttered style. See introduction. Mygdonian: i.e., Phrygian. The Mygdones were a Thracian people who moved to Phrygia. the Athamane shores: on the coast of Epirus in Greece; from the Athamanes tribe. the Iulean ship: i.e., Octavian’s ﬂeet, according to the theory that from Iulus, Aeneas’ son, came the gens Iulia—the Julian line which led to Julius Caesar and his great-nephew and adopted son, Octavian. Teucrian Quirinus: Quirinus was a Sabine deity who became identiﬁed with Rom- ulus; he is called “Teucrian,” i.e., “Trojan,” because in some accounts he was a descendant of Aeneas. See notes to poems 4.1 and 4.10. Nereus: a sea deity. Notuses: See note to poem 2.5.

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Centauric rocks: prows with ﬁgureheads of Centaurs with rocks raised, ready to be thrown. Father Caesar: Julius Caesar, adoptive father of Octavian. Idalian star: because of Venus’ protection of Caesar. See note to poem 2.13 B. Cilician pistils: i.e., saffron perfume from Cilicia. the marsh-dwelling Sycambri: a German tribe who helped defeat Marcus Lollius in 16 B.C.E. Cepheus’ Meroe’s dark realms: Cepheus was a legendary king of Meroe, an Ethiopian town; Ethiopia had attacked Roman Egypt in 22 B.C.E. the Parthian: Rome’s military obsession since Crassus lost the Roman standards at Carrhae in 53 B.C.E.; in 20 B.C.E., a treaty was agreed upon, and the standards were returned without war. patera: a shallow dish for pouring libations.

7. Cynthia’s ghost appears in a dream and speaks to the poet. the Subura: where Cynthia lived with a man, not necessarily a husband. A lively and slightly dangerous neighborhood next to the fancy Esquiline, where Propertius lived, the Subura is recorded as having had bookshops, artisans, taverns, and brothels. Notuses: See note to poem 2.5. Lygdamus . . . or Nomas: slaves of Propertius’; Lygdamus plays a role in poem 4.8 (see also poem 3.6); Nomas seems to have skill in sorcery. Petale . . . Lalage: two other slaves or servants of Propertius’. the Cretan woman: Pasiphaë. See notes to poems 2.28 C and 3.19. Cybele: See notes to poems 3.17 and 3.22. See also introduction. Andromeda and Hypermestra: Andromeda, exposed on a rock as the result of her mother’s vanity and rescued by Perseus, is known, in the versions we have, as a suffering heroine; we know nothing of her conduct as a wife. Hypermestra was the only one of ﬁfty daughters of Danaus who refused to murder her husband at her father’s command. For Andromeda, see notes on poems 1.3 and 3.22. Chloris: either Propertius’ new girlfriend, or a witch utilized by her to enchant Propertius. Parthenie . . . Latris: two servants of Cynthia’s. the Anio: the river that passes through Tibur, personiﬁed as the spirit Anienus. See notes to poems 1.20, 3.16, and 3.22.

8. An account of a party at Propertius’ place. Couplet 19/20 has been transposed to come after line 2. Lanuvium: See note to poem 2.32. Appia: the Via Appia. Molossian: from Epirus in Greece.

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Lygdamus: See notes to poems 3.6 and 4.7. Methymnian: Methymna was a town in Lesbos, from which came famous wines. a Venus . . . the Dogs: names for good and bad throws, respectively, of the dice. the pure: Usually wine in Roman times was drunk diluted with water; to drink it pure was to become quite drunk. the Pompeian shadows: See note to poem 2.32.

9. A poem purporting to explain why women were forbidden to worship at the Ara Maxima. The Ara Maxima, where Hercules was worshiped as the god of victory and commerce, was between the Circus Maximus and the Forum Boarium (the cattle markets). Its activities, which included the sacrifice of bulls, were part of the state religion by the fourth century B.C.E. and continued until the fourth century C.E. Couplet 65/66 has been transposed to come after line 42, and couplets 71/72 and 73/74 have been reversed. The Amphitryonid: the son of Amphitryon, i.e., Hercules; actually, Hercules was the son of Alcmene and Jupiter, who came to her disguised as her husband, Amphitryon. Erythea: legendary island beyond the Strait of Gilbratar, from which Hercules took the cattle of Geryon. Velabrum: In the early days of Rome, this valley between the Capitoline and the Palatine hills was filled with marshy water; later, it was drained and the Tuscan Way (see note to poem 4.2) ran through it, connecting the Roman Forum with the Forum Boarium. Cacus: a monster who lived in a cave on the Aventine hill, or the Palatine (the scalae Caci, “Cacus’ steps” lead up to the latter); probably an ancient Roman deity. In the story, Hercules’ slaying of him, like Theseus’ dispatching of the villains near Athens, can be seen as a justification of violence in the name of civi- lization. By stealing Hercules’ cattle, Cacus violated the law of hospitality under Jupiter as protector of strangers. the Maenalian stick: refers to Hercules’ famous cudgel; “Maenalian” from Mount Maenalus in Arcadia, but the significance of the epithet is not known. Alcides: Hercules, as grandson of Alcaeus, father of Amphitryon, but see above. the Bovarian fields: refers to what was known in Propertius’ day as the Forum Boarium. precinct of the female goddess: possibly intended as a reference to the temple on the Aventine to Bona Dea, a Roman goddess worshiped exclusively by women. [ellipsis]: Between lines 41 and 43 (or between 41 and 65, with the transposition of lines 65 and 66 before 43), there is a pentameter line missing; this is indicated in the Latin text and in the translation by a line of dots. servant’s duties in a Sidonian robe: refers to the time Hercules was the servant of

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the Lydian queen Omphale; he wore women’s clothing and performed the tasks of a female slave, while Omphale wore his lion skin and carried his cudgel. They fell in love. Here, since he is wearing a Sidonian robe, Hercules is meant to be wearing the queen’s clothing, not those of a slave. See note to poem 2.16. having set down her Gorgon: i.e., she set down her aegis, on which the Gorgon was depicted.

10. This poem purports to explain the meaning of the name Jove Feretrius. Refers to a temple in which were dedicated three sets of spolia opima, gained when a Roman leader killed an enemy leader in hand-to-hand fighting. The temple had an ancient Roman history, with a legendary founding by Romulus; it was thought to be the oldest in Rome. Acron of Caenina: a Sabine leader from the town of Caenina; his connection with Hercules is not known from any other source. Quirinus: i.e., Romulus. Quirinus is usually understood as the name Romulus received at his apotheosis; though he and his brother, Remus, are distinct person- ages, on occasion there is a blending of the two, hence the identification of Quirinus with Remus in poem 4.1. See notes to poems 4.1 and 4.6. Cossus . . . Tolumnus: Aulus Cornelius Cossus killed Tolumnus, leader of Veii in the late fifth century B.C.E., when the Romans had not advanced north of the Tiber, and their most distant victories were at Nomentum, fifteen miles to the northeast, and Cora, about the same distance to the southeast. Propertius’ history is not necessarily that which is today believed. three acres each: land alloted to each member of the victorious army. Claudius . . . Virdomarus: Marcus Claudius Marcellus led a successful battle against the Gauls, and killed their leader Virdomarus, at Clastidium in 222 B.C.E. that’s why it’s called the Feretrius: The derivations make sense only in Latin; i.e., the name “Feretrius” is used because a) three (tria) spoils have come from a Roman leader’s having killed (ferit) the opposing leader in hand-to-hand combat; or because b) they carried (ferebant) three (tria) spoils.

11. A monologue spoken by the ghost of a recently deceased noblewoman; addressed to her husband, sons, and deceased mother. Cornelia, daughter of Cornelius Scipio and Scribonia (who was later married to Octavian and bore his daughter, Julia), was the wife of Lucius Aemilius Paullus Lepidus, an eminent politician; they had three children. Cornelia’s brother was consul in 16 B.C.E.; since it appears from the poem that Cornelia died the same year, we can date the composition of the poem to that year.

448 NOTES TO BOOK 4

Aeacus: See note to poem 2.20. Minos: Aeacus is envisioned as the judge, Minos and Rhadamanthus his advisors. See note to poem 3.19. my Numantine forebears: refers to Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus Major (236–184 B.C.E.) and Publius Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus Africanus Numanti- nus (185–129 B.C.E.). my mother’s Libones: “Scribonius Libo” were the names of her mother’s side of the family. toga praetexta: the toga with a purple border worn by curule magistrates and youths until they reached manhood, after which they wore the toga virilis. beneath whose titles, Africa, you lie destroyed: After this line, I have omitted two lines for which the manuscript reading appears corrupted and from which sense cannot be easily extracted; they are lines 39 and 40 in the Latin manuscripts. Cybele: See notes to poems 3.17 and 3.22. See also introduction. Claudia . . . or you: In 204 B.C.E., during the war against Hannibal, the advice of the Sibylline Books was sought, and, upon their recommendation, the idol and worship of Cybele (Magna Mater) were brought by boat from Phrygia to Rome. Upon arriving in the Tiber, the boat ran aground; a certain Claudia Quinta succeeded in pulling it free, claiming that this good deed proved her chastity, since she had been accused of being unchaste. For Ovid (Fasti 4.247–348), she was a figure unfairly charged with immorality. Cybele, as protector of cities, was famous for her turreted headdress. In the other example here given by Propertius, the fire in the charge of a Vestal Virgin named Aemilia went out, which was considered a sign of unchastity; she prayed to the goddess to prove her innocence, and a piece of linen she lay on the hearth caught fire spontaneously. Cornelia is claiming to be superior to these two, as there is not even a suspicion of unchastity in her case. Scribonian mother: See above. we see tears leaving the god: the second time Propertius refers to Augustus as deus, unparalleled in the other Augustan poets. See note to poem 3.4.

449

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

Only translations have been indexed.

Ah, as many lies about me as Panthus’ page Has frigid Cyzicus pleased you so many to you invented, (2.21), 163, 429n.21 years, (3.22), xxxvii, 323, 440n.22 “All this you see, my friend, the magnifi- Have you gone nuts? You imitate the cent heart of Rome, (4.1), xvii–xviii, xxix, painted Britons? (2.18 C), 153 xxxviii, 335, 441n.1 I, who once shunned even the street the Already the dreary ritual returns: (2.33 A), crude mass takes, (2.23), xxxiv–xxxv, xxix, 219, 433n.33A 171, 429n.23 And sometimes she wants fans from the I am forced to make the Great Tour proud tails of the peacock (2.24 B), 175 to learned Athens, (3.21), 319, “Arethusa sends these instructions to her 440n.21 Lycotas— (4.3), 355, 444n.3 If you’re tough, say no: if not, come on! Babe, last night, as I was wandering around (2.22 B), 169 drunk, (2.29 A), xxxv, 203, 431n.29A I knew your contempt would get to be a Be happy, since no girl’s as pretty: you’d drag, (1.15), 53, 423n.15 complain (3.8 B), 264 I make you this warning, Gallus, in favor of But it’s time to refresh Helicon with other continuous love (1.20), 71, 423n.20 choruses, (2.10), xxxiv, xlv, 117, 426n.10 I marveled that the Camenae had arrived so Constant quarrels have led to hate for early, (3.10), 271, 436n.10 many; (2.18 A), 149 In dire contest for a kingdom, the Theban Cynthia delights, certainly, that the law has leaders (2.9 B), 115, 426n.9B been lifted, (2.7), xxv–xxvi, 105, 426n.7 I saw you in a dream, my love, in a ship- Cynthia was the first. She caught me with her wreck, (2.26 A), xxxv, 185, 430n.26A eyes, a fool (1.1), xxxi, xxxiv, 3, 419n.1 Is it true that all Rome speaks of you, Cyn- Do you believe he can still recall your fig- thia, (2.5), 97, 426n.5 ure, (3.20), xxiii, 315 I told you how love would be, and you Do you mortals seek to know death’s un- laughed. (1.9), 33, 421n.9 fixed (2.27), 193 It seems my clever tablets have disappeared Even though you’re leaving Rome against (3.23), xli, 327 my wishes, Cynthia, (2.19), 155, It’s okay you bitch how your girlfriend mis- 428n.19 treats you: (2.4), 95, 426n.4

It was early morning, and I wanted to ob- Now, Bacchus, I prostrate myself, serve whether she (2.29 B), xxxv, 205, humble, at your altar: (3.17), 303, 431n.29B 438n.17 I was a joke at dinner parties among the set Now I begin, revealing the stories of Jove tables. (3.25), 331 Feretrius (4.10), 407, 448n.10 I was free and planning to live with an Now I no longer fear mournful ghosts, my empty bed, (2.2), 87, 425n.2 Cynthia, (1.19), 69, 423n.19 Jupiter, have pity on this afﬂicted girl: Now let them stare in wonder that such (2.28 A), 195, 430n.28A a beautiful girl (2.26 B), 187, Learn what scandalized the well-watered 430n.26B Esquiline last night, (4.8), xxi, “Once I was opened to great triumphs, xxxviii–xxxix, 393, 447n.8 (1.16), 57, 423n.16 Let me return, then, to my poetry’s orbit, Or if my girl’s thinking of traveling the (3.2), 237, 434n.2 open sea, (2.26 C), 430n.26C Let others write about you, or you will be Our lust is often tossed in my face by you: unknown: (2.11), 121 (3.19), 311, 439n.19 Let rigid old men reproach those parties: “Paullus, stop pressing my tomb with tears: (2.30 B), 209, 431n.30B (4.11), xlviii–xlix, 411, 448n.11 Love is a god of Peace. We lovers venerate Postumus, could you leave your crying peace. (3.5), 245, 435n.5 Galla (3.12), 281, 437n.12 Lucky me! radiant night! and you (2.15), Really, I’m not afraid of exploring the xxv, 135, 427n.15 Adriatic with you, (1.6), 23, 420n.6 Maecenas, knight descended from Etruscan Reclining in Helicon’s gentle shade, kings, (3.9), xix–xx, xxxii, xlvi, 265, (3.3), xxx–xxxi, xxxviii, 239, 435n.9 434n.3 Maintain your clemency, Persephone, and Serves me right (I could leave her behind) you, (2.28 C), 201, 431n.28C (1.17), 61, 423n.17 May I never again have to experience such She lay, Theseus’ ship sailing away, (1.3), tumultuous passion, (3.15), 295, xxxiii, 11, 420n.3 438n.15 She’s staying! She swore she’ll remain! My May the earth cover your grave with enemies be damned! (1.8 B), 31, thorns, procuress, (4.5), xxix, xxxviii, 421n.8B 369, 444n.5 Since you often do, Gallus, delight in my Middle of the night, and a letter comes fall. (1.13), 47, 422n.13 from my mistress: (3.16), 299, 438n.16 Soul of Callimachus and rites of Coan Phili- Money, you are the cause of life’s problems! tas, (3.1), 233, 434n.1 (3.7), xxxiii, xxxvi, 253, 435n.7 So you’re crazy, and my heartache does My beloved girlfriend is ripped from me: not delay you? (1.8 A), 29, (2.8), 107, 426n.8 421n.8A

452 INDEX

Spirits do exist. Death doesn’t end it all: We had a great blow-up at yesterday’s (4.7), xxii, xxviii, xxxviii, xlviii, 385, lamps, (3.8 A), xxiii, 259, 435n.8A 446n.7 We marvel, Sparta, at the rules of your Susa was not armed with so many wrestling school, (3.14), xxxii, 291, Achaemenian arrows (2.13 A), 125, 437n.14 427n.13A What a great calm, when I was present at Tarpeia’s crime and Tarpeia’s ugly death, your (1.10), xxiii, xxxii, 37, 421n.10 (4.4), 361, 444n.4 What class I am and from where, Tullus, Tell me what you really know about my who my Penates, (1.22), xvii, 77, girl: (3.6), 249, 435n.6 424n.22 That man there—that was me: but perhaps What if my age were beginning to glow in time, (2.9 A), 111, 426n.9A with whitening years, (2.18 B), 151, The Amphitryonid had driven the oxen 428n.18B through (4.9), 401, 447n.9 What’s the point of walking around, love, The Atreid didn’t feel such a rush in his with your hair all done up, (1.2), 7, Dardan triumph, (2.14), 131, 427n.14 419n.2 The Ephyrean apartments of Lais, at whose Whenever it is, then, that death will close doors (2.6), xliii–xliv, 101, 426n.6 my eyes, (2.13 B), 127, 427n.13B The god Caesar plans war against the luxu- Where do you think you’re going? There’s rious Indians (3.4), xxxvi, 243, 434n.4 no escape: you can (2.30 A), 207, 431n.30A The one woman born to torment me, most beautiful pain, (2.25), xxxv, 181, Where the sea plays, enclosed by shady 430n.25 Avernus, (3.18), xxxii, xxxvii, 307, 439n.18 The poet performs the rites. Let those present respect these rites, (4.6), xlvii, 377, While you linger in the middle of Baiae, 445n.6 Cynthia, (1.11), xxiv, 41, 422n.11 The praetor comes now, Cynthia, from the While you tell of Thebes and Cadmus, Pon- Illyric lands, (2.16), xxiii, xlv, 141, ticus, (1.7), 27, 421n.7 428n.16 Whoever he was who painted the boy Love, The twisted rhombuses and their magic (2.12), xxxii, xliv, 123, 427n.12 incantation have failed. (2.28 B), Why, Bassus, are you praising all these girls, 199 (1.4), 15, 420n.4 This is certainly the place, for one in pain— Why, Cynthia, do you seek out the riddling deserted, silent— (1.18), 65, 423n.18 oracles of Praeneste, (2.32), 213, 432 To lie about a date, to deceive a lover with Why don’t you stop fabricating the crime of promises: (2.17), 147, 428n.17 apathy for me, (1.12), 45, 422n.12 Was this what you were planning especially Why do you cry more violently than Briseis, for my pleasure? (2.24 C), xxxv, 177, after she was abducted? (2.20), xlv, 159, 429n.24C 428n.20

453

Why do you wonder if a woman perverts You don’t listen, you let my words dance my life (3.11), xlvi, 275, 436n.11 away, while (2.33 B), 221, 433n.33B Why would anyone entrust their mistress’ You jealous creep! Shut your annoying beauty to Love? (2.34), xxxv, 223, mouth already (1.5), 19, 420n.5 433n.34 You know that recently many girls have “You, who used to say no girl could ever pleased me equally; (2.22 A), xxiv, xxviii, get to you, (2.3), xliii, 89, 425n.3 xxxiv, 165, 429n.22A You are free to mope about effeminately Your conﬁdence in your beauty is un- near Tiber’s wave, (1.14), 51, 422n.14 founded, woman, (3.24), 329, You ask how I can write so many love 441n.24 poems, (2.1), xix, xxiii, xxxii, xxxiv, xlvi, You scramble to avoid my fate, soldier, 81, 424n.1 (1.21), 75, 424n.21 You ask why a night with gluttonous girls “You speak, when your notorious book costs so much (3.13), xxxvi–xxxvii, 285, has already made you famous, (2.24 A), 437n.13 173 You ask why I’ll come late to you? Phoe- “You who wonder at my many shapes in bus’ golden (2.31), xxxv, 211, 432n.31 one body: (4.2), xxxviii, 349, 443n.2

454

GENERAL INDEX

Only the introduction, “Preserving the Metaphor,” and the translations of the poems have been indexed.

Acanthis, 373, 445n.5 Aetolian/Aetolia, 225, 433n.34 Acca, 75 African/Africa, 315, 413, 449n.11 Achaeans, 109, 309 Agamemnon, 253, 379, 427n.14, 435n.7, Achaemenian/Achaemenes, 125, 427n.13A 439n.18, 441n.22, 443n.1 Achaia, 201 Aganippaean/Aganippe, 89, 425n.3 Acheloüs (river), 225, 433n.34 Aitia (Callimachus), xxx Acheron, 245, 435n.5 Ajax, 443n.1 Achilles, 83, 91, 109, 111, 167, 309, Alba, 239, 337, 442n.1 425n.1, 426n.7, 427n.13B, 429n.22A, Alban, 323 434n.1, 439n.18 Alcaeus, 424n.20, 425n.3, 447n.9 Acrisius, 428n.20 Alcestis (spouse of Admetus), 101, 426n.6 Acroceraunia, 428n.16 Alceus, 429n.24C Acron of Caenina, 407, 448n.10 Alcides, 73, 177, 401, 403, 405, 424n.20, Actian, 137, 143, 227, 377, 381 429n.24C, 447n.9 Actium, xlv–xlvi, 83, 445n.6 Alcinous, 51, 422n.14, 434n.2 Admetus, 101, 426n.6 Alcmaeonian/Alcmaeon, 247, 423n.15, Admonis, 129 435n.5 Adrastus, 225, 433n.34 Alcmene, 167, 429n.22A, 447n.9 Adriatic Sea, 23, 319 Alcyone, 436n.10 Aeacus, 161, 411, 429n.20, 449n.11 Alexandria, 277, 435n.7 Aeaean/Aeaea, 213, 283, 432n.32, Alexis, 227 437n.12 Alphesiboae, 53, 423n.15 Aegean Sea, 23, 257, 329 Althaea, 440–41n.22 Aemilia, 449n.11 Amazons, 291, 444n.4 Aemilian, 239 Amores (Ovid), xxxv Aeneas, 227, 243, 335, 425n.1, 437n.13, Amphiaraus, 225, 289, 428n.16, 437n.13 442n.1, 445–46n.6 Amphionian/Amphion, 33, 297, 420n.4, Aeneid (Vergil), xlviii, 439n.18 421n.9, 438n.15 Aeolian, 89, 425n.3 Amphitryonid/Amphitryon, 401, 424n.20, Aeschylean, 225 429n.22A, 429n.24C, 447n.9 Aesonian/Aeson, 275, 436n.11 Amycle, 371, 445n.5 Aesonid, 53 Amymone, 189 Aetnean, 303. See also Mount Aetna Amythaonian/Amythaon, 93, 425n.3

Androgeos, 85, 425n.1 Argive, 53, 69, 183, 431n.28A Andromache, 159, 167 Argo, 71, 189, 323, 424n.20, 440n.22 Andromeda, 11, 195, 325, 389, 420n.3, Argonauts, 423–24n.20 446n.7 Argus, 11, 420n.3 Anian/Anio, 299, 438n.16 Argynnus, 253, 435n.7, 439n.18 Anienus, 391, 446n.7 Ariadne, 89, 303, 420n.3, 425n.3, Anio (river), 71, 323, 391, 423n.20, 427n.14, 429n.24C, 431n.28C, 438n.17 440n.22, 446n.7 Arionian/Arion, 185, 225, 430n.26A Anonia, 420n.2 Armenia, 33 Antaeus, 323, 440n.22 Arria, 341, 443n.1 Antigone, 107, 426n.8 Ascanius (river), 71, 423n.20 Antilochus, 129 Asclepius, 425n.1 Antimachus, 225, 433n.34 Ascraean/Ascra, 119, 125, 227, 427n.10, Antinous, 369 427n.13A, 433n.34 Antiope, 15, 201, 295, 297, 420n.4, Asia, 23, 91 438n.15 Asisium/Assisi, xvii, 345, 424n.22 Antony, xlv–xlvii, 269, 428n.16, 445n.6 Asopus, 295 Anubis, 277 Atalanta, xxxi–xxxii, 419n.1, 441n.22 Aonian/Aonia, 9, 241, 420n.2, 434n.3 Athamane, 377, 445n.6 Apelles, 7, 265, 419n.2, 435n.9 Athamantid/Athamas, 71, 323, 424n.20, Apidanus, 11, 420n.3 430n.26A Apollo, xxvi, 31, 81, 135, 237, 279, 341, Athena, 423n.15, 443n.1. See also Pallas 345, 377, 381, 419n.2, 427n.15, Athena 428n.10, 428n.18B, 432n.31, 433n.34, Athens, 23, 319, 426n.6 434n.1, 436 nn. 9 and 11, 437 nn. 12 Atlas, 323, 440n.22 and 13, 440n.22, 441–42n.1. See also Atrax, 29, 421n.8A Phoebus Atreid/Atreus, 131, 253, 309, 427n.14, Appia/Appian Way. See Via Appia 435n.7, 439n.18, 440n.22, 443n.1 Aprils, 371, 445n.5 Atrides, 343, 443n.1 Apuleius, xxiii Attalic/Attalian/Attalus, 127, 213, 307, Aqua Marcia, 237, 434n.2 369, 427n.13B Aquilonian/Aquilo, 71, 97, 253, 257, Attic, 159, 428n.20 424n.20, 426n.5 Attis, xxvii Arabian/Arabia, 51, 89, 117, 203, 285 Augustan, 377 Aracynthus, 297 Augustus Caesar, xviii, xxii, xxv–xxvi, Ara Maxima, 405, 442n.1, 447n.9 xxxiii, xxxvii, xlvi, 117, 277, 281, 379, Aratus, 225, 433n.34 383, 426n.7, 434n.4, 436n.11, Araxes (river), 281, 357, 437n.12 449n.11 Arcadian, 3, 65, 195, 287, 423n.18, Aulis, 343, 443n.1 434n.3 Aurora, 151, 428n.18B Archemorus, 225 Ausonian/Ausones, 219, 243, 325, 363, Archytas, 341, 443n.1 433n.33A, 440n.22 Arethusa, 355 Auster, 145, 189, 428n.16, 430n.26C

456 INDEX

Aventine, 339, 442n.1 267, 279, 307, 309, 337, 377, 381, 415, Avernus, 307, 337, 439n.18, 442n.1 434n.4, 436n.11 Calais, 71, 424n.20 Babylonian/Babylon, 275, 341, 443n.1 Calamis, 265, 435n.9 Bacchantes, 325 Calchas, 343, 441n.22, 443n.1 Bacchus, xxvii, 11, 209, 237, 303, 339, Callimachus, xxix–xxxi, xli, 83, 225, 233, 383, 419n.2, 420n.3, 431n.28A, 267, 339, 433n.34, 443n.1, 445n.6 433n.33B, 438n.17, 439n.18 Calliope, 9, 81, 237, 241, 377, 420n.2 Bactra, 233, 275, 355, 359, 434n.1, Callisto, 195, 431n.28A 444n.3 Calpe, 281, 437n.12 Baiae, xxiv, 41, 43, 307, 422n.11, Calvus, xxxv, 181, 229, 430n.25 439n.18 Calypso, 53, 163, 423n.15, 437n.12 Barber, E. A., xliii Cambyses, 187, 430n.26B baris, 277, 436n.11 Camenae, 271, 436n.10 Bassaric/bassara, 305, 438n.17 Camillus, 279 Bassus, 15, 420n.4 Camilluses, 267 Bay of Naples, 41 Campania, 245 Belgian, 153, 409 Camps, W. A., xl (note), xliii Bellerophon, 239, 431n.30A, 434n.3 Cannae, 239 Bias, 425n.3 Canopus, 277, 436n.11 Bistonian, 209 Capaneus, 225, 423n.15, 433n.34 Boeotian/Boeotia, 107, 426n.10, 434n.3 Capena, 359, 444n.3 Bona Dea, 448n.9 Capharean, 255 Bootes, 247 Capitoline, 363, 442n.1 Boreas, 189, 193 Capricorn, 341 Borysthenis, 105, 426n.7 Carpathian, 97, 253, 426n.5, 435n.7 Bosporus, 279 Carrhae, 446n.6 Bovarian, 401, 447n.9 Carthage, 81 Bovillae, 337, 442n.1 Cassandra, 442n.1, 443n.1 Boy, the, 23, 27, 33, 69, 273. See also Love Cassiope, 61, 423n.17 Brennus, 287, 437n.13 Cassiopeia, queen of Ethiopia, 420n.3 Brimo, 87, 425n.2 Castalian, 239, 434n.3 Briseis, 109, 111, 159, 167 Castor, 7, 105, 185, 291, 423n.17, Britannia, 355 440n.22 British, 85 Catullus, xvi, xxxv, 181, 229, 430n.25, Britons, 153, 193 443n.1 Brutus, 337 Caucasus/Caucasian, 51, 85, 181, 430n.25 Cayster, 323, 440n.22 Cacus, 401, 442n.1, 447n.9 Cecropian/Cecrops, 221, 433n.33B Cadmean/Cadmus, 27, 267, 285, 421n.7, Centauric/Centaurs, 87, 101, 221, 425n.2, 436n.9, 437n.13 426n.6, 433n.33B, 446n.6 Caenina, 407, 448n.10 Cepheus, king of Ethiopia, 11, 383, Caesar, 75, 83, 105, 143, 211, 227, 243, 420n.3, 446n.6

457

Ceraunian/Ceraunia, 29, 141, 421n.8A Creusa, 143, 163, 428n.16 Cerberus, 247, 369, 391, 411 Croesus, 187, 245, 309, 430n.26B Cercropian, 159 Cumaean/Cumae, 87, 429n.24C Ceyx, 436n.10 Cupid, 151 Chaonian/Chaonia, 33, 421n.9 Curesian/Cures, 361, 444n.4 Charybdis, 189, 283 Curia, 335, 361, 444n.4 Chimera, 431n.30A, 434n.3 Curian, 239 Chiron, 85, 425n.1 Curtius, Marcus, 279, 436n.11 Chloris, 389, 446n.7 Cybebe. See Cybele Ciconian(s), 281, 437n.12 Cybele, xxvi–xxviii, 305, 389, 413, Cilician/Cilicia, 381, 446n.6 429n.22A, 439n.17, 440n.22, 449n.11 Cimbri, 81 Cydonian/Cydonia, 287, 437n.13 Cinara, 343, 443n.1 Cymothoë, 185, 430n.26A Cinyras, 439n.19 Cynthia, xvi, xxiii–xxiv, xxix, xxxiii, Circe, 85, 283, 432n.32, 437n.12 xxxv–xxxvi, xxxvii, xl, xlvii, 3, 15, 17, 21, Cithaeron, 237, 295, 438n.15 23, 37, 45, 105, 125, 129, 155, 173, Claudia. See Quinta, Claudia 205, 209, 219, 229, 319, 329, 331, 385, Claudius. See Marcellus, Marcus Claudius 393, 397, 423n.16, 440n.22, 446n.7; Cleopatra, xlv–xlvii, 436n.11, 445n.6 poems addressed to, 7, 11, 29, 31, 41, Clitumnus, 155, 323, 428n.19, 440n.22 53, 61, 65, 69, 97, 101, 111, 141, 213 Clytemnestra, 311, 389, 422n.13 Cynthius, 227, 434n.34 Coan/Cos, 7, 81, 267, 349, 369, 373, Cyrenean/Cyrene, 377, 445n.6 419n.2, 436n.9, 445n.5 Cyrus, 430n.26B Cocles, Horatius, 436n.11 Cytaean/Cytaea, 95, 426n.4 Cocles’ Way, 279 Cytherea, 131 Coeus, 267, 436n.9 Cytinean/Cytina, 3, 419n.1 Colchian/Colchis, 85, 163, 223, 275, 323, Cyzicus, 323 422n.12, 425n.1, 426n.4, 436n.11 Collina, 369, 445n.5 Daedalian/Daedalus, 131, 427n.14 Conon, 341, 443n.1 Danaan(s), 189, 261, 267, 275, 325, 339 Cora, 409, 448n.10 Dana/Danaë, 159, 217, 428–29n.20 Corinna, 89, 425n.3 Danai, 343 Corinthian/Corinth, 245, 426n.6 Danaus, 211, 432n.31, 446n.7 Cornelia, 411, 413, 449n.11 Daphnis, 227 Corvus, Marcus Valerius, 436n.11 Dardan, 69, 131, 337 Corydon, 227 Decius, Publius, 279, 337, 436n.11 Cossus, Aulus Cornelius, 407, 409, Deidamia, 111 448n.10 Deiphobus, 235, 434n.1 Crassi, 117, 243 Delos, 379, 432n.31 Crassus, xlvii, 247, 383, 446n.6 Demophoon, 165, 179, 429n.22A, Creon, 426n.8 430n.24C Cressa, 85 Demosthenes, 321 Cretan/Crete, 311, 313, 389, 446n.7 Deucalion, 217, 433n.32

458 INDEX

Diana, 155, 201, 427n.15, 428n.10, Erycinan/Eryx, 285, 437n.13 431n.28A, 432 nn. 31 and 32, 440n.22, Erythea, 401, 447n.9 441n.22 Esquiline, xxi, 327, 393, 446n.7 Diana (of the Aventine), 395 Eteocles, 421n.7, 426n.9B Dindymid/Dindymus, 323, 440n.22 Etruscan, 75, 77, 83, 265, 443n.2 Dircean/Dirce, 295, 297, 305, 420n.4, Euboean/Euboea, 189, 343, 443n.1 438 nn. 15 and 17 Euenus, 7, 419n.2 Dis, 323, 440n.19 Eumenides, 411 Dis Pater, 411 Euphrates (river), 117, 171, 243, 275, 383, Dodona, 163, 421n.9 429n.23 Dogs (dice games), 395, 447n.8 Euripides, 438n.17 Dog Star, 195 Europe, 91, 201 Doric, 109, 379 Eurotas (river), 291, 437n.14 Doris, 63, 423n.17 Eurus, 189, 247, 297, 430n.26C Dorozantes, 369, 445n.5 Eurypylus, 369, 445n.5 Dulichian/Dulichium/Dulichia, 87, 131, Eurytion, 221, 433n.33B 163, 245, 425n.2, 427n.14, 429n.21, Evadne, 53, 285, 423n.15 435n.5 Evander, 335, 442n.1

Earth, 423n.19 Fabian, 337, 442n.1 Edonian/Edonious, 11, 420n.3 Fabius, 239 Egyptian/Egypt, 83, 219, 395 Falernian, 221, 381, 433n.33B Elean/Elis, 265, 436n.9 Fame, 229, 233, 265 Electra, 131 Fates, 25, 51, 81, 85, 135, 197, 281, 389 Elis, 31 Feretrius, 407, 409, 448n.10 Elysian, 389 Ferguson, John, xxviii Enceladus, 83, 425n.1 Fidenae, 337, 442n.1 Endymion, 135 Forum Boarium, 447n.9 Enipeus (river), 47, 311, 422n.13, Furies, 161, 435n.5 431n.28C Ennius, xxix, 239, 339, 434n.3, 443n.1 Gabi, 337, 442n.1 Ephesus, 432n.31, 440n.22 Galaesus (river), 227, 433n.34 Ephialtes, 424n.1 Galatea, 29, 237, 421n.8A Ephyrean/Ephyre, 101, 426n.6 Galla, 281, 283 Epicurus, 321 Gallic/Gaul(s), 211, 289 Epidaurian/Epidaurus, 85, 425n.1 Gallus, Gaius Cornelius, xxxv, 229, Epigoni, 436n.9 433–34n.34 Epirus, 421n.8A, 428n.16. See also Gallus (Propertius’ friend), 19, 37, 47, 71 Illyric/Illyria Gallus (Propertius’ kinsman), 75, 424n.21 Erechtheus, 424n.20 Gallus (unknown person), 341, 443n.1 Ericthonian/Ericthonius, 101, 426n.6 Geryon, 323, 422n.11, 440n.22, 447n.9 Eridanus, 45, 422n.12 Getae, 355, 371, 444n.3 Eriphyla, 143, 289, 428n.16, 437n.13 Gigantean . . . shore, 71, 424n.20

459

Glaucus, 185, 430n.26A Hippolyte, 357, 444n.3 golden amulet, 345, 443n.1 Hippolytus, 369 Gorgon, 87, 181, 241, 405, 431n.30A, Homer, 27, 33, 81, 225, 235, 431n.28A, 440n.22, 448n.9 439n.18; Iliad, 83, 227, 434n.1, Great Mother. See Cybele 439n.18; Odyssey, xlviii, 432n.32, Greek(s)/Greece, 101, 111, 217, 227, 434n.2, 435n.5, 437n.12 233, 255, 267, 325, 343, 395, 443n.1 Honor, 233 Gygaean Lake, 275 Horace, xv–xvi, xviii, xxxv Horatii, 239 Hadryades, 71, 424n.20 Horos, 341, 443n.1 Haedus, 191, 430n.26C Hostia, xxiii Haemon, 107, 426n.8 Hostius, xxiii Haemonian, 53, 85, 109, 117, 233, Hylaeus, xxxii, 3, 419n.1 426n.8, 428n.10, 434n.1. See also Thes- Hylas, 71, 73, 423n.20 salian/Thessaly/Thessalia Hyllei, 29, 421n.8A Hamadryad(s), 73, 215, 227, 424n.20, Hymenaeus, 365, 444n.4 432n.32 Hymn to Apollo (Callimachus), xxx–xxxi, Hannibal, 239, 279 445n.6 Hebe, 47, 422n.13 Hypanis, 45, 422n.12 Hector, 109, 167, 235, 261, 379 Hypermestra, 389, 446n.7 Helen of Troy, 49, 83, 91, 229, 261, 291, Hypsipyle, queen of Lemnos, 53, 420n.4, 422n.13, 427n.15, 437n.14 423n.15 Helen (Tyndareus’ daughter), 432n.32 Hyrcanian, 209, 431n.30B Helenus, 235, 434n.1 Helicon. See Mount Helicon Iberian, 89 Helle (daughter of Athamas), 185, 323, Icarian, 433n.33B 424n.20 Icarian/Icarius, 221, 437n.13 Hellespont, 424n.20 Icariotid, 285, 437n.13 Hera, 421n.9 Icarus, 221, 433n.33B Herculean/Hercules, 41, 47, 71, 171, 213, Idaean/Ida. See Mount Ida 307, 323, 391, 401, 403, 405, 407, 422 Idalian, 129, 381 nn. 11 and 13, 424n.20, 429 nn. 22A Idas, 7 and 24C, 432n.32, 434n.1, 436n.11, Iliad (Homer), 83, 227, 434n.1, 437n.12, 439n.18, 440n.22, 442n.1, 439n.18 447–48n.9 Ilian, 289, 339 Hermione, 15, 420n.4 Ilion, 235 Herodotus, 430n.26B Illyric/Illyria, 29, 141, 421n.8A, 428n.16 Hesiod, 427 nn. 10 and 13A, 433n.34 Inachid/Inachian/Inachus, 11, 49, 125, Hesperian, 177, 341, 429n.24C, 443n.1 219, 420n.3, 422n.13, 427n.13A, Hesperides, 323 433n.33A, 441n.22 Hilaira, 7, 419n.2 India/Indian, 113, 117, 151, 165, 243, Hippodamia, 7, 31, 419n.2, 421n.8B, 285, 303, 355 426n.6, 433n.33B Ino, 195, 424n.20, 430n.26A

460 INDEX

Io, 195, 209, 219, 420n.3, 433n.33A, 438n.17, 441n.22, 442n.1, 443n.2, 441n.22 447n.9. See also Jove Iolcian/Iolcus, 425n.1 Iole, 371, 445n.5 Knossian/Knossos, 11, 123, 420n.3 Ionian/Ionia, 25, 185, 279, 319, 377, 381, 430n.26A Laconian(s), 135, 293, 427n.15 Iphiclus, 93, 425n.3 Lais, 101, 426n.6 Iphigenia, 253, 435n.7, 441n.22 Lake Boebeis, 87 Irus, 245, 435n.5 Lake Lucrinus, 41, 422n.11 Isaid/Iasus, xxxii, 3, 419n.1 Lake Maeotis, 425n.3 Ischomache, 87, 425n.2 Lalage, 387, 446n.7 Isis, xxviii–xxix, 371, 420n.3, 433n.33A Lampetie, 283, 437n.12 Ismara, 281, 437n.12 Lanuvium, 213, 393, 395, 432n.32 Ismarian, 221 Laodamia, 423n.19 Italian/Italy, 77, 233, 257, 325, 357, Laomedon, 131, 436n.9 433n.33A Lapiths, 87, 425n.2, 426n.6, 433n.33B Ithacans/Ithaca, 53, 283, 425n.2, Lares, 209, 239 427n.14, 435n.5 Latian, 243, 409 Itys, 271, 428n.20, 436n.10 Latin, 217 Iulean, 377, 445n.6 Latona, 428n.10, 429n.20 Iulus, 337, 425n.1, 442n.1, 445n.6 Latris, 389, 446n.7 Ixionid/Ixion, 83, 411, 421n.9, 424n.1 Lavinian, 227 Lechaeum, 319, 440n.21 Jason, 163, 179, 423n.15, 425n.1, Leda, 49, 422n.13 428n.16, 436n.11, 440n.22 Lepidus, Lucius Aemilius Paullus, 411, Jove, 49, 83, 87, 91, 125, 189, 199, 209, 415, 417, 449n.11 217, 219, 223, 225, 235, 237, 239, 243, Lernaean/Lerna, 177, 189, 429n.24C 267, 277, 279, 295, 297, 329, 341, 343, Lesbia, 215, 229 361, 377, 401, 407, 409, 433n.34, Lesbian, 51, 422n.14 448n.10. See also Jupiter Lethean, 385, 391 Jugurtha, 245, 381 Leucadia, 229 Julia (daughter of Augustus), xxii, xxxviii Leucadian/Leucas, 279, 436n.11 Julia (daughter of Octavian), 449n.11 Leucothoë, 185, 195, 430n.26A Julia (granddaughter of Augustus), xxii Liber, 11, 420n.3 Julian, 381 Libones, 413, 449n.11 Julius Caesar, xlvii, 439n.18, 446n.6 Liburnian, 277, 436n.11 Juno, 97, 195, 219, 325, 343, 393, 403, Libyan/Libya, 211, 343, 403 405, 420n.3, 432n.32, 438n.17, Linus, 125, 427n.13A 441n.22 Lollius, Marcus, 446n.6 Jupiter, xxvii, 87, 105, 141, 143, 167, 189, Love, 3, 7, 11, 33, 35, 63, 89, 101, 119, 195, 219, 265, 277, 295, 339, 341, 367, 123, 125, 203, 207, 209, 221, 223, 233, 377, 407, 419n.2, 420n.3, 424n.20, 245, 299, 315, 319, 432n.30B 425n.1, 428n.16, 429n.20, 431n.28A, Luceres, 337, 442n.1

461

Lucina, 343, 443n.1 Marpessa (daughter of Euenus), 7, Luna, 37, 199, 225, 315 419n.2 Lupercalia, 442n.1 Mars, 215, 241, 243, 279, 339, 341 Luperci, 337 Mavors, 193 Lupercus, 341, 443n.1 May, 371, 445n.5 Lyaeus, 221, 433n.33B Medea, 179, 311, 371, 422n.12, 425n.1, Lycian, 235, 434n.1 426n.4, 428n.16, 436n.11, 440n.22 Lycinna, 295, 297, 438n.15 Medes, 265, 281 Lycomedians/Lycmon, 337, 353, 442n.1, Medusa, 440n.22 443n.2 Megara, 439n.19 Lycoris, 229 Melampus, 93, 425n.3 Lycotas, 355 Meleager, 440–41n.22 Lycurgus, 303, 438n.17 Memnon, 23, 151, 421n.6 Lycus, 295, 420n.4 Memphis, 277 Lydia, 275 Menander, 101, 321, 371 Lydian, 25, 245, 305, 389, 403 Menelaus, 91, 135, 223, 420n.4 Lygdamus, 249, 251, 387, 395, 397, 399, Menoetiad/Menoetius, 83, 425.n1 435n.6, 446n.7 Mens Bona, 441n.24 Lynceus, 223 Mentorean/Mentor, 51, 265, 422n.14, Lysippus, 265, 435n.9 435n.9 Mercury, 87, 207, 425n.2, 438n.17 Machaon, 85, 425n.1 Meroe, 383, 446n.6 Maeandrian/Maeander (river), 209, 225, Methymnian, 395, 447n.8 431n.30B Mevania, 345, 443n.1 Maecenas, Gaius, xviii–xxi, xxv, xxxvii, xlvi, Milanion, xxxi–xxxii, 3, 419n.1 81, 265 Mimnermos, xli, 33, 421n.9 Maenad, 259, 289 Minerva, 9, 111, 369, 431n.30B, 443n.1, Maenalian, 401, 447n.9 445n.5 Maeonian/Maeonia, 197, 431n.28A Minoid/Minos, 131, 179, 217, 311, 313, Maeotic/Lake Maeotis, 89, 275, 425n.3, 411, 420n.3, 425n.1, 427n.14, 436n.11 429n.24C, 431n.28C, 433n.32, Magna Mater. See Cybele 439–40n.19, 449n.11 Magnus, 395 Minotaur, 420n.3, 431n.28C, 439n.19 Malea, 311, 439n.19 Minyae/Minyas, 71, 423n.20 Mamurius Veturius, 353, 443–44n.2 Misenum, 41, 422n.11 Manes, 369, 445n.5 Misenus, 307, 439n.18 Marcellus, Gaius Claudius, xxxviii, 439n.18 Molossian, 393, 447n.8 Marcellus, Marcus Claudius, 409, 439n.18, Moon. See Luna 448n.10 Mount Aetna, 237, 425n.1, 438n.17 Marcian/Aqua Marcia, 237, 323, 434n.2 Mount Arganthus, 73 Marian, 241 Mount Helicon, 117, 239, 245, 420n.2, Marius, 81, 245, 277 425n.3, 426–27n.10, 427n.13A, 434 Maron, 213 nn. 1 and 3

462 INDEX

Mount Ida, 87, 215, 235, 305, 432n.32, Numantine, 413, 449n.11 439n.17 Numa Pompilius, 353, 443n.2 Mount Ismarus, 125, 427n.13A Nycteus, 295, 420n.4 Mount Maenalus, 447n.9 Nymphs, 71, 73, 363 Mount Oeta, 47, 422n.13, 434n.1 Nysian/Nysa, 303, 438n.17 Mount Parnassus, 211, 289, 432n.31, 434n.3, 437n.13 Oceanus, 423n.17 Mount Pelion, 323, 440n.22 Ocnus, 355, 444n.3 murra, 371, 445n.5 Octavian, xvii, xxiv, xlv, 432n.31, 445n.6, Muses, 31, 125, 233, 237, 241, 245, 383, 449n.11 420n.2, 425n.3, 427n.13A, 429n.22A, Odyssey (Homer), xlviii, 432n.32, 434n.2, 432n.30B, 434n.1, 436n.10 435n.5, 437n.12 Mutina, 83 Oeagrus, 209, 432n.30B Mycenaean/Mycenae, 167, 311 Oeneus, 440n.22 Mygdonian/Mygdones, 377, 445n.6 Oenomaus, king of Pisa, 419n.2 Myron, 211 Oenone, 432n.32 Myrrha, 311, 439n.19 Oetaean, 235 Mys, 265, 435n.9 Oileus, 443n.1 Mysian/Mysia, 71, 85, 424n.20, 425n.1 Oliades, 343, 443n.1 Olympus, 81, 424n.1 Naia, 215 Omphale, 275, 436n.11, 448n.9 Nauplius, 343, 443n.1 Orcus, 313, 440n.19 Naxian/Naxos, 303, 305, 420n.3, 438n.17 Orestes, 131, 420n.4 Neleus, 431n.28C Orician/Oricos, 29, 255, 421n.8A, 435n.7 Nemorensis, 323 Orion, 145, 191, 430n.26C Neoptolemus, 420n.4 Orithyia, 73, 189, 253, 424n.20 Neptunian/Neptune, 141, 185, 189, 253, Oromedon, 267, 436n.9 267, 422n.13, 424n.20, 431n.28C, Orontean/Orontes (river), 7, 171, 419n.2, 436n.9, 439n.19 429n.23 Nerean/Nereus, 257, 379, 421n.8A, Orops, 341, 443n.1 430n.26A, 446n.6 Orphic/Orpheus, 13, 237, 427n.13A, Nereids, 185, 423n.17, 430n.26A, 435n.7 432n.30B Nesaeë, 185, 430n.26A Ortygia/Ortygie, 211, 323, 432n.31, Nestor, 129, 181 440n.22 Nile (river), 83, 195, 219, 277, 381, Oscan, 353, 444n.2 440n.22 Ossa, 81, 424n.1 Niobe, 159, 271, 428n.20, 432n.31 Otus, 424n.1 Nireus, 308, 439n.18 Ovid, xxii, xxxv, 449n.11 Nisus, 439n.19 Nomas, 387, 446n.7 Pactolus (river), 25, 51, 309, 421n.6, Nomentum, 409, 448n.10 422n.14, 430n.26B Notus(es), 97, 113, 297, 373, 379, 385, Paestum, 373 426n.5 Paetus, 253, 255, 257

463

Pagasa, 71, 423n.20 Pergama, 81, 91, 267, 436n.9 Palamedes, 443n.1 Pergamean, 289, 339, 442n.1 Palatine, 267, 335, 379, 401, 442n.1 Perillus, 181, 430n.25 Pales, 442n.1 Perimede, 95, 426n.4 Palladian, 267 Permessus, 119, 427n.10 Pallanteum, 442n.1 Pero, 93, 425n.3 Pallas, 87, 209, 315, 363, 405, 442n.1 Perrhaebian Pindus, 247, 435n.5 Pallas Athena, 195, 431n.30B. See also Persephone, 127, 201 Athena Perseus, 195, 207, 323, 420n.3, 429n.20, Pandionian/Pandion, 73, 424n.20 440n.22, 446n.7 Pan(s), 241, 287, 305, 423n.18 Persians, 275 Panthus, 163, 429n.21 Perusine/Perusia, xvii, 77, 424n.22 Parilia, 335, 365, 442n.1 Petale, 387, 446n.7 Paris, 91, 135, 215, 235, 261, 289, Phaeacian, 237, 434n.2 425n.2, 433n.34, 434n.1 Phaedra, 83, 425n.1 Parnassus. See Mount Parnassus Phalaris of Agrigentum, 430n.25 Parrhasius, 265, 435n.9 Pharian, 253, 435n.7 Parthenian, 3 Pharus, 83 Parthenie, 389, 446n.7 Phasis (river), 71, 323, 424n.20, 440n.22 Parthian(s)/Parthia, 117, 131, 193, 243, Pheidian/Pheidias, 265, 435n.9 269, 281, 357, 359, 371, 383, 444n.3, Philip, 277 446n.6 Philippi, 83 Pasiphaë, 201, 431n.28C, 439n.19, 446n.7 Philitean/Philitas of Cos, xxix–xxx, xli, patera, 383, 446n.6 225, 233, 241, 377, 433n.34, 434n.3, Patroclus (son of Menoetius), 109, 425n.1 436n.9, 445n.6 Paullus. See Lepidus, Lucius Aemilius Paullus Philoctetes, 85, 425n.1, 434n.1 Pegasean/Pegasus, 207, 431n.30A, 434 Philomela, 428n.20 nn. 1 and 3 Phineus, 247, 435n.5 Pegasides, 233, 434n.1 Phlegraean Fields, 83, 267, 277, 424n.20, Pege, 73, 424n.20 425n.1, 436n.9 Pelasgian, 195, 431n.28A Phoebe, 7, 419n.2, 422n.13 Pelian. See Mount Pelion Phoebus, 7, 9, 211, 215, 227, 233, 239, Pelias, 431n.28C 283, 315, 325, 351, 377, 379, 381, 383, Pelides, 167, 429n.22A 419n.2. See also Apollo Pelides/Peleus, 111, 429n.22A Phoebus of Ships, 335, 441–42n.1 Pelion, 81, 424n.1 Phoenician, 193 Pelopean/Pelops, 311, 379, 419n.2 Phoenix, 85, 425n.1 Pelusium, 269 Phorcid/Phorkys, 323, 440n.22 Penates, 77, 209, 255, 337, 341, 343, Phrygian/Phrygia, 7, 83, 165, 167, 209, 424n.22 225, 289, 335, 425n.1, 429n.22A, Penelope, 111, 283, 285, 369, 437n.13 439n.17, 445n.6 Penthesilea, 275, 436n.11 Phryne, 101, 426n.6 Pentheus, 303, 325, 438n.17 Phylacid/Phylacus, 69, 423n.19

464 INDEX

Phyllis, 179, 429n.22A, 430n.24C xxxi–xxxii; narrators in, xvi–xvii, xxxiii, Phyllis (Propertius’ friend), 395, 397 xxxiv; patronymic usage by, xv, xxxii; poetic Phyllyrid/Philyra, 85, 425n.1 inﬂuences on, xxix, xxxv; religious devo- Pierian/Pieria, 125, 427n.13A tions of, xxvii; rhetorical models and, xxxii, Pierides, 117 xxxv; texts of, xli–xliii; thematic survey of Pindaric, 305 books by, xxxiii–xxxix, xlv–xlix; visual arts Piraeus, 319 and, xliii–xliv; word usage of, xliv–xlv Pirithous (son of Ixion), 101, 424n.1, Propontic, 323 425n.2, 426n.6, 433n.33B Propontis, 424n.20 Pisces, 341 Proserpina, 424n.1 Pitys, 423n.18 Protesilaus, 423n.19 Plato, 321 Pthian/Pthia, 127, 426n.8, 427n.13B Pleiades, 145, 247, 421n.8A Ptolemaic/Ptolemy, 83 Pluto, 424n.1, 431n.28C Punic, 211, 357 Pollux, 7, 291, 323, 423n.17, 430n.26A, pure, the, 397, 447n.8 440n.22 Pyrrhus, 279 Polydamas, 235, 434n.1 Pythian, 287, 437n.13 Polydorus, 289, 437n.13 Pythius, 211 Polymestor, 289, 437n.13 Python, 379 Polynices, 421n.7, 426n.9B Polyphemus, 221, 237, 281, 421n.8A Quinta, Claudia, 413, 449n.11 Pomeroy, Sarah B., xxiii, xxviii Quintilia, 229 Pompeian, 213, 397, 432n.32 Quirinal, 445n.5 Pompeius, 277, 279 Quirinus, 377, 407, 441–42n.1, 446n.6, Pompeius Magnus, 432n.32 448n.10 Ponticus, 27, 33, 421 nn. 7 and 9 Poseidon, 422n.13 Ramenes, 337, 442n.1 Postumus, Propertius, xviii (note), 281, Remedia Amoris (Ovid), xxxv 437n.12 Remus, 81, 267, 335, 339, 383, 442n.1, Praeneste, 213, 432n.32 448n.10 praetors, 141, 428n.16 Rhadamanthus, 449n.11 Praxiteles, 265, 435n.9 Rhine (river), 241, 409 Priam, 91, 201, 339, 437n.13 Rhipaean mountains, 23, 420n.6 Procne, 428n.20, 436n.10 Rome/Roman, 31, 45, 77, 91, 97, 101, Procrustes, 441n.22 117, 137, 141, 153, 155, 201, 215, 219, Promethean/Prometheus, 45, 85, 245, 227, 233, 235, 239, 241, 243, 265, 267, 422n.12, 430n.25 269, 277, 279, 281, 289, 293, 319, 323, Propertius, Sextus, 107, 133, 177, 239, 271, 335, 337, 339, 357, 361, 363, 365, 377, 335, 341, 387; antiwar feelings of, 381, 407, 409, 413, 433n.33A xxiv–xxv, xxxvi; background of, xvii–xviii, Romulan/Romulus, 101, 277, 337, 363, xxiv; birth/death of, xvii, xxxiii, 424n.22; 367, 379, 407, 441–42n.1, 443n.2, meter used by, xxxix–xli; modes of address 446n.6, 448n.10 and, xxxii–xxxiii; mythology in, xv, Ruber, 51, 285, 422n.14, 437n.13

465

Sabine(s), 101, 215, 353, 359, 361, 363, Susa, 125, 427n.13A 365, 405, 442n.1, 443n.2 Sycambri, 383, 446n.6 Salmonid/Salmoneus, 47, 311, 422n.13, Syme, Ronald, xviii (note) 439n.19. See also Tyro Syphax, 279 Sappho, 425n.3 Syrian/Syria, 127 Saturn, 217, 341 Syrtes, 113, 311, 329, 439n.19 Scaean, 267 Scamander, 235 Taenarian/Taenarus, 47, 237, 422n.13, Scipian, 279, 436n.11 434n.2 Scipio, Cornelius, 449n.11 Tanais (river), 207, 431n.30A Scipio Aemilianus Africanus Numantinus, Tantalid/Tantalus, 85, 147, 211, 411 Publius Cornelius, 449n.11 Tarpeian/Tarpeia, 57, 277, 335, 361, 363, Scipio Africanus, Publius Cornelius, 367, 395, 423n.16, 442n.1 449n.11 Tarquinius, 277 Sciron, 299, 438n.16, 441n.22 Tartarus, 421n.9 Scribonian/Scribonia, 415, 449n.11 Tatius, 337, 353, 361, 363, 367, 405, Scylla, 189, 283, 311, 363, 439–40n.19 442n.1, 443n.2, 444n.4 Scyrian, 111 Tatiuses, 215 Scythian, 299, 357, 444n.3 Taygetus, 291, 437n.14 Semele, 197, 209, 431n.28A, 438n.17 Tegeaeus, 241, 434n.3 Semiramis, 275 Teia, 395, 397 Seric/Seres, 355, 444n.3 Telegonus, 213, 432n.32 Sibyl, 87, 177, 337, 429n.24C Telephus, king of Mysia, 425n.1 Sicilian/Sicily, 59, 83, 309 Tellus, 69, 423n.19 Sidonian/Sidon, 145, 203, 403, 428n.16, Temple of Quirinus, 441–42n.1 448n.9 Temple of Victory, xxvi Sileni/Silenus, 215, 241, 432n.32 Temple to Apollo, xxvi, xxxvi, 432n.31, Silvanus, 361 445n.6 Simois, 111, 235 Tereus, 428n.20, 436n.10 Sinis, 325, 441n.22 Tethys, 423n.17 Sipylus, 159 Teucrian, 377, 446n.6 Sirens, 283 Teuthras, 41, 422n.11 Sisyphian, 147, 161 Teutons, 241 Sisyphus, 411 Thais, 101, 371, 426n.6 slaves, 445n.5 Thamyras, 165, 429n.22A Socratic/Socrates, 225 Theban/Thebes, 27, 81, 101, 107, 115, Solonium, 337 201, 237, 305, 307, 371, 421n.9, Sparta, 291 426n.6, 436n.9, 438n.17, 439n.18, Strymonid/Strymon, 365, 444n.4 445n.5 Stygian, 111, 193, 225, 307, 355, 403 Theiodamantean/Theiodamas, 71, Subura, xxi–xxii, 385, 446n.7 423n.20 Suevi, 241 Theocritus, xxix–xxx, 426n.4 Suovetaurilia, 442n.1 Thermodon (river), 291, 365, 437n.14

466 INDEX

Thesean Way, 319 Tyro, 47, 201, 422n.13, 431n.28C, Theseus, 11, 83, 131, 179, 420n.3, 424n.1, 439n.19 429n.22A, 438 nn. 16 and 17, 441n.22 Tyrrhenian, 29, 303 Thesprotus, 41, 422n.11 Thessalian/Thessaly/Thessalia, 19, 47, 69, Ulysses, 101, 111, 131, 189, 255, 281, 167, 311, 329, 425n.1, 426n.8 422n.14, 423n.15, 429n.21, 432n.32, Thetis, 257 437n.12, 443n.1 Thracian/Thrace, 289, 437n.13 Umbrian/Umbria, 77, 323, 339, 343, Three Sisters, 129 424n.22, 428n.19, 440n.22 Threician, 237 Thyestes, 440n.22 Varro, xxxv, 229 Thynian Nymphs, 73 Veian/Veii, 407, 409, 448n.10 Tiberinus, 349 Velabrum, 401, 447n.9 Tiber (river), 51, 219, 277, 335, 407, Venetian, 45 448n.10 Venus, 5, 9, 51, 117, 129, 135, 141, 155, Tibur, 213, 299, 323, 391, 432n.32, 163, 165, 195, 215, 241, 243, 245, 259, 438n.16, 440n.22, 446n.7 265, 273, 299, 303, 315, 329, 337, 345, Tigris (river), 243 357, 369, 373, 393, 427n.14, 437n.13 Tiresias, 405 Venus (dice games), 395, 447n.8 Tisiphone, 247, 435n.5 Vergil, xv–xvi, xviii, xxxvi–xxxvii, xlviii, 227, Titans, 81, 436n.9 433n.34, 439n.18 Tithonus, 151, 181, 428n.18B Vergilii, 29, 421n.8A Tities, 337, 442n.1 Vertumnus, 349, 443n.2 Tityrus, 227 Vesta, 205, 243, 335, 361, 363, 365, 413, Tityus, 161, 247, 429n.20 431n.29B, 449n.11 toga libera, 345, 443n.1 Vestalia, 442n.1 toga praetexta, 413, 449n.11 Via Appia, 213, 393, 444n.3, 447n.8 Tolumnus, 407, 409, 448n.10 Via Flaminia, 428n.19 Trinacria, 437n.12 Via Sacra, xxvi, 83, 171, 175, 243 Triton, 213, 381, 439n.18 Virdomarus, 409, 439n.18, 448n.10 Trojan/Troy/Troia, 101, 107, 129, 201, Volsinian/Volsinii, 349, 443n.2 209, 227, 235, 307, 337, 339, 343, 365, Vulcan, 438n.17 434n.1, 436n.9 Tullus, xviii, xxiv, xxxix, 3, 23, 51, 77, 323 Winged One. See Love Tullus, Lucius Volcacius, xviii, 420n.6 Tuscan(s), 349 Xerxes, 81 Tuscan Way, 351, 443n.2, 447n.9 Tyndarid(s)/Tyndareus, 61, 215, 261, Zephyr, 59, 65 423n.17, 432n.32 Zetes, 71, 424n.20 Tyre, 141, 285, 437n.13 Zethus, 297, 420n.4, 438n.15 Tyrian, 291, 357, 369 Zeus, 421n.9, 423n.15

467

THE LOCKERT LIBRARY OF POETRY IN TRANSLATION

George Seferis: Collected Poems (1924–1995), translated, edited, and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard Collected Poems of Lucio Piccolo, translated and edited by Brian Swann and Ruth Feldman C. P. Cavafy: Selected Poems, translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard and edited by George Savidis Benny Andersen: Collected Poems, translated by Alexander Taylor Selected Poetry of Andrea Zanzotto, edited and translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann Poems of René Char, translated and annotated by Mary Ann Caws and Jonathan Grifﬁn Selected Poems of Tudor Arghezi, translated by Michael Impey and Brian Swann “The Survivor” and Other Poems by Tadeusz Róz˙ewicz, translated and introduced by Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire “Harsh World” and Other Poems by Angel González, translated by Donald D. Walsh Ritsos in Parentheses, translations and introduction by Edmund Keeley Salamander: Selected Poems of Robert Marteau, translated by Anne Winters Angelos Sikelianos: Selected Poems, translated and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard Dante’s “Rime,” translated by Patrick S. Diehl Selected Later Poems of Marie Luise Kaschnitz, translated by Lisel Mueller Osip Mandelstam’s “Stone,” translated and introduced by Robert Tracy The Dawn Is Always New: Selected Poetry of Rocco Scotellaro, translated by Ruth Feldman and Brian Swann Sounds, Feelings, Thoughts: Seventy Poems by Wisl⁄awa Szymborska, translated and introduced by Magnus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire The Man I Pretend to Be: “The Colloquies” and Selected Poems of Guido Gozzano, translated and edited by Michael Palma, with an introductory essay by Eugenio Montale D’Après Tout: Poems by Jean Follain, translated by Heather McHugh Songs of Something Else: Selected Poems of Gunnar Ekelöf, translated by Leonard Nathan and James Larson The Little Treasury of One Hundred People, One Poem Each, compiled by Fujiwara No Sadaie and translated by Tom Galt The Ellipse: Selected Poems of Leonardo Sinisgalli, translated by W. S. Di Piero The Difﬁcult Days by Roberto Sosa, translated by Jim Lindsey Hymns and Fragments by Friedrich Hölderlin, translated and introduced by Richard Sieburth The Silence Afterwards: Selected Poems of Rolf Jacobsen, translated and edited by Roger Greenwald Rilke: Between Roots, selected poems rendered from the German by Rika Lesser In the Storm of Roses: Selected Poems by Ingeborg Bachmann, translated, edited, and introduced by Mark Anderson Birds and Other Relations: Selected Poetry of Dezsö Tandori, translated by Bruce Berlind Brocade River Poems: Selected Works of the Tang Dynasty Courtesan Xue Tao, translated and introduced by Jeanne Larsen The True Subject: Selected Poems of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, translated by Naomi Lazard My Name on the Wind: Selected Poems of Diego Valeri, translated by Michael Palma Aeschylus: The Suppliants, translated by Peter Burian Foamy Sky: The Major Poems of Miklós Radnóti, selected and translated by Zsuzsanna Ozváth and Frederick Turner La Fontaine’s Bawdy: Of Libertines, Louts, and Lechers, translated by Norman R. Shapiro A Child Is Not a Knife: Selected Poems of Göran Sonnevi, translated and edited by Rika Lesser George Seferis: Collected Poems, Revised Edition, translated, edited, and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard C. P. Cavafy: Collected Poems, Revised Edition, translated and introduced by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, and edited by George Savidis Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid, translated from the Hebrew by Peter Cole The Late Poems of Meng Chiao, translated and introduced by David Hinton Leopardi: Selected Poems, translated and introduced by Eamon Gennan Through Naked Branches: Selected Poems of Tarjei Vesaas, translated and edited by Roger Greenwald The Complete Odes and Satires of Horace, translated with introduction and notes by Sidney Alexander Selected Poems of Solomon Ibn Gabirol, translated by Peter Cole Puerilities: Erotic Epigrams of The Greek Anthology, translated by Daryl Hine Night Journey by María Negroni, translated and introduced by Anne Twitty The Poetess Counts to 100 and Bows Out by Ana Enriqueta Terán, translated by Marcel Smith Nothing Is Lost: Selected Poems by Edvard Kocbek, by Edvard Kocbek, translated by Michael Scammel and Veno Taufer The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius, translated with introduction and notes by Vincent Katz