Part 20

Old eds. "Argos."

"Bibuli litoris illa mora est."

Dyce was doubtless right in supposing "wreaks" to be used metri causa for "wrecks." Cunningham wanted to give the meaning "recks;" but that meaning does not suit the context. The original has "credenti nulla procella nocet."

"Excipiamque humeris."

ELEGIA XII.

Exultat, quod amica potitus sit.

About my temples go, triumphant bays! Conquered Corinna in my bosom lays. She whom her husband, guard, and gate, as foes, Lest art should win her, firmly did enclose: That victory doth chiefly triumph merit, Which without bloodshed doth the prey inherit. No little ditchËd towns, no lowly walls, But to my share a captive damsel falls. When Troy by ten years' battle tumbled down, With the Atrides many gained renown: 10 But I no partner of my glory brook, Nor can another say his help I took. I, guide and soldier, won the field and wear her, I was both horseman, footman, standard-bearer. Nor in my act hath fortune mingled chance: O care-got triumph hitherwards advance! Nor is my war's cause new; but for a queen, Europe and Asia in firm peace had been; The Lapiths and the Centaurs, for a woman, To cruel arms their drunken selves did summon; 20 A woman forced the Trojans new to enter Wars, just Latinus, in thy kingdom's centre; A woman against late-built Rome did send The Sabine fathers, who sharp wars intend. I saw how bulls for a white heifer strive, She looking on them did more courage give. And me with many, but me without murther, Cupid commands to move his ensigns further.

FOOTNOTES:

Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

"Cura parte triumphe mea."

Ed. B "but yet me."--Ed. C "but yet without."

ELEGIA XIII.

Ad Isidem, ut parientem Corinnam servet.

While rashly her womb's burden she casts out, Weary Corinna hath her life in doubt. She, secretly from me, such harm attempted, Angry I was, but fear my wrath exempted. But she conceived of me; or I am sure I oft have done what might as much procure. Thou that frequent'st Canopus' pleasant fields, Memphis, and Pharos that sweet date-trees yields, And where swift Nile in his large channel skipping, By seven huge mouths into the sea is slipping. 10 By feared Anubis' visage I thee pray,-- So in thy temples shall Osiris stay, And the dull snake about thy offerings creep, And in thy pomp horned Apis with thee keep,-- Turn thy looks hither, and in one spare twain: Thou givest my mistress life, she mine again. She oft hath served thee upon certain days, Where the French rout engirt themselves with bays. On labouring women thou dost pity take, Whose bodies with their heavy burdens ache; 20 My wench, Lucina, I entreat thee favour; Worthy she is, thou should'st in mercy save her. In white, with incense, I'll thine altars greet, Myself will bring vowed gifts before thy feet, Subscribing Naso with Corinna saved: Do but deserve gifts with this title graved. But, if in so great fear I may advise thee, To have this skirmish fought let it suffice thee.

FOOTNOTES:

Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

Old eds. "with," which must be a printer's error. (The original has "clam me.")

Old eds. "slipping."

"Gallica turma" (i.e. the company of Galli, the priests of Isis).

ELEGIA XIV.

In amicam, quod abortivum ipsa fecerit.

What helps it woman to be free from war, Nor, being armed, fierce troops to follow far, If without battle self-wrought wounds annoy them. And their own privy-weaponed hands destroy them Who unborn infants first to slay invented, Deserved thereby with death to be tormented. Because thy belly should rough wrinkles lack, Wilt thou thy womb-inclosËd offspring wrack? Had ancient mothers this vile custom cherished, All human kind by their default had perished; 10 Or stones, our stock's original should be hurled, Again, by some, in this unpeopled world. Who should have Priam's wealthy substance won, If watery Thetis had her child fordone? In swelling womb her twins had Ilia killed, He had not been that conquering Rome bid build. Had Venus spoiled her belly's Trojan fruit, The earth of CÊsars had been destitute. Thou also that wert born fair, had'st decayed, If such a work thy mother had assayed. 20 Myself, that better die with loving may, Had seen, my mother killing me, no day. Why tak'st increasing grapes from vinetrees full? With cruel hand why dost green apples pull? Fruits ripe will fall; let springing things increase; Life is no light price of a small surcease. Why with hid irons are your bowels torn? And why dire poison give you babes unborn? At Colchis, stained with children's blood, men rail, And mother-murdered Itys they bewail. 30 Both unkind parents; but, for causes sad, Their wedlocks' pledges venged their husbands bad. What Tereus, what I‰son you provokes, To plague your bodies with such harmful strokes? Armenian tigers never did so ill, Nor dares the lioness her young whelps kill. But tender damsels do it, though with pain; Oft dies she that her paunch-wrapt child hath slain: She dies, and with loose hairs to grave is sent, And whoe'er see her, worthily lament. 40 But in the air let these words come to naught, And my presages of no weight be thought. Forgive her, gracious gods, this one delict, And on the next fault punishment inflict.

FOOTNOTES:

Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

"Vitio."

Old eds. "On."

Old eds. "to-day."

"Est pretium parvÊ non leve vita morÊ."