ovid heroides 7

Medea is more than a stepdame; the hands of Medea are fitted for any crime. [101] These deeds can you recount, gaily arrayed in a Sidonian gown? ‘Tis not for me, O Crete composed of the hundred cities, to look upon thee, land known to the infant Jove! O wicked Deianira, why hesitate to die? Add that she has her name writ in the record of your own and your heroes’ exploits, and the wife obscures the glory of the husband. The would I feel is not from the foe whence I thought to see it come. [149] Cease, then, your wanderings! Dido’s husband in Tyre. Can it be you that men say clutched tight the serpents twain while a tender babe in the cradle, already worthy of Jove? [65] Can it be some fate has come upon our house and pursued it through the years even to my time, that we Tantalid women are ever victims ready to the ravisher’s hand? FROM AENEAS CAME THE CAUSE OF HER DEATH, AND FROM HIM THE BLADE; (Augustus found his rebellious daughter had Ovid's latest book.) Nessus, stricken with the arrow in his lustful heart, “This blood,” he said, “has power over love.” The robe of Nessus, saturated with poisonous gore, I sent to you. That you were Helen I none the less knew, because you were most beautiful; but you – you had to ask who your daughter was! 7. Am I to bear gifts to the shrines because Jason lives, though mine no more? Accipe, Dardanide, moriturae carmen Elissae; 1 quae legis a nobis ultima verba legi. Then at last I let flow my tears; till then my tender eyeballs had been dulled with pain. What death would you not deserve as the price of your perfidy? Felt you no shame to bind with gold those strong arms, and to set the gem upon that solid brawn? When I have looked on the sea, and on the land, and on the wide-stretching shore, I know many dangers threaten me on land, and many on the waters. He tells of the dragon overcome. Oenone to Paris. Now, I ponder over not only what I am doomed to suffer, but all that any woman left behind can suffer. P. OVIDIVS NASO (43 B.C. Yet would I had been content with these kindnesses, and that the story of our union were buried! [133] Ah, I could pray the gods that you had seen me from the high stern; my sad figure had moved your heart! I speak you well for your safety – so far as you give me chance; yet of this very thing I should have been informed by message of your own. What now can you gain to recompense you then, when you will have to say: “’Tis my desert; forgive me, ye gods!” when you will have to think that whatever thunderbolts fall were hurled at you? Scarce had he well touched the threshold, when I cried, “How doth my lord, the son of Aeson?” Speechless he stood in embarrassment, his eyes fixed fast upon the ground. ‘Tis true he is in ingrate, and unresponsive to my kindnesses, and were I not fond I should be willing to have him go; yet, however ill his thought of me, I hate him not, but only complain of his faithlessness, and when I have complained I do but love more madly still. No one could now call the Heroides a neglected part of Ovid’s oeuvre. Dido to Aeneas 8. The one, by crushing you down, has raised you up; the other has your neck beneath her humbling foot. [89] But I care not, if I am but not left captive in hard bonds, and not compelled to spin the long task with servile hand – I, whose father is Minos, whose mother the child of Phoebus, and who – what memory holds more close – was promised bride to you! 6. – to have you perish flying from me over the long seas. [17] But why complain that my lord has been slow in his duty? [75] And am I to absolve these vows – vows but for Medea to enjoy? e.g. Nota Bene 3/25: Ovid, Heroides 7.129-162 (Grayson) March 25, 2020 March 25, 2020 gtoole Uncategorized. Heroides and Amores, tr. And someone of the partisans of Pelias imputes your deeds to her poisons, and wins the people to believe: “This fleece of gold from the ram of Phrixus the son of Aeson did not seize away, but the Phasian girl, Aeëtes child.” Your mother Alcimede – ask counsel of your mother – favours her not, nor your sire, who sees his son’s bride come from the frozen north. [47] Is this too little for me to endure? Should your every wish be granted, even should you meet with no delay in the answering of your prayers, whence will come the wife to love you as I? Yet neither are you bearing them with you; the sacred relics which are your pretext never rested on your shoulders, nor did your father. [61] Undone myself, I fear lest I be the undoing of him who is my undoing, lest I bring harm to him who brings harm to me, lest my enemy be wrecked at sea and drink the waters of the deep. If ‘twas my fate to err, my error had honourable cause; so only he keep faith, I shall have no reason for regret. Let me be your wedded mate now you are come back, as I was when you set forth! [39] While he tells the details of his story, such are the eagerness and quickness of his speech that of his own nature he reveals the wounds that have been dealt me. O wicked Deianira, why hesitate to die? [11] More than Juno, Venus has been your bane. [165] And now, fare ye well, O aged father, and O my sister Gorge, and O my native soil, and brother taken from thy native soil, and thou, O light that shinest to-day, the last to strike upon mine eyes; and thou my lord, O fare thou well – would that thou couldst! [1] Thus, at the summons of fate, casting himself down amid the watery grasses by the shallows of Maeander, sings the white swan.1. [65] You are the last of your band to board the sacred Argo.4 It flies upon its way; the wind bellies out the sail; the dark-blue wave glides from under the keel as it drives along; your gaze is on the land, and mine is on the sea. The nymph-daughter of Jardanus7 has even tricked herself out in your arms, and won famous triumphs from the vanquished hero. Oft do I come again to the couch that once received us both, but was fated never to show us together again, and touch the imprint left by you – ‘tis all I can in place of you! Antaeus would tear from the hard neck the turban-bands, lest he feel shame at having succumbed to an unmanly foe. – were betrayed by my deed1 when, to keep you, after your victory, from death in the winding halls, I gave into your hand the thread to direct your steps in place of guide – when you said to me: “By these very perils of mine, I swear that, so long as both of us shall live, thou shalt be mine!”. [119] These things, however, I had only heard; I could distrust men’s words, and the pain hit on my senses softly, through the ear – but now my very eyes must look upon a stranger-mistress8 led before them, nor may I now dissemble what I suffer! And now you had been swept beyond my vision. ... Heroides and Amores by Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D; Showerman, Grant, 1870-1935; Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D. What has little Ascanius done, or what your Penates, to deserve ill fate? [139] “But you are bid to go – by your god!” Ah, would he had forbidden you to come; would Punic soil had never been pressed by Teucrian feet! Theoi Project © Copyright 2000 - 2017 Aaron J. Atsma, New Zealand. I burst with anger, and my face swells with passion no less than my heart, and my breast burns with the pains of pent-up wrath. 7. Nebrophonus and Euneus, according to Apollodorus; according to Hyginus, Euneus and Deiphilus. Who will deliver his fields to unknown hands to keep? Your comrades, too, demand repose, and your shattered fleet, but half refitted, calls for a short delay; by your past kindnesses, and by that other debt I still, perhaps, shall owe you, by my hope of wedlock, I ask for a little time – while the sea and my love grow calm, while through time and wont I learn the strength to endure my sorrows bravely. I shall not rehearse the lying words of the swan upon the stream, nor complain of Jove disguised in plumage.6 Where the sea is sundered in two by the far-stretched Isthmus, Hippodamia7 was borne away in the car of the stranger; she of Taenarus, stolen away across the seas by the stranger-guest from Ida, roused to arms in her behalf all the men of Argos. Ovid / Heroides. Perhaps you will even drive away Aetolian Deianira, and her rival will lay aside the name of mistress, and be made your wife. Yet even thus I might well have been sought back, nor is it unseemly for a husband to have endured fierce combat for love of his marriage-bed. What worse my lot had Lacedaemon been taken and I been made a slave, carried away by the barbarian rout with the daughters of Greece? Is my unhappy soul to go forth into stranger-air, and no friendly hand compose my limbs and drop them on the unguent due? P. OVIDI NASONIS EPISTVLAE HEROIDVM VII. Whither shall I take myself – I am alone, and the isle untilled. 9. Two Editiones Principes of Ovid appeared in 1471—one at Rome and one at Bologna, with independent texts. Let her seek for herself a husband – from the Tanais, from the marshes of watery Scythia, even from her own land of Phasis! – if indeed a woman lives who is buried by the treason of a perjured mate. 18. And suppose I did find those to go with me, and winds, and ship – yet where am I to go? The arms you wielded were hateful – but what were you to do? ‘Tis not the Simois of your fathers you seek, but the waves of the Tiber – and yet, forsooth, should you arrive at the place you wish, you will be but a stranger; and the land of your quest so hides from your sight, so draws away from contact with your keels, that ‘twill scarce be your lot to reach it in old age. She is one to strive to draw down from its course the unwilling moon, and to hide in darkness the horses of the sun; she curbs the waters and stays the down-winding streams; she moves from their places the woods and the living rocks. 7. If your soul is eager for war, if Iulus must have field for martial prowess and the triumph, we shall find him foes to conquer, and naught shall lack; here there is place for the laws of peace, here place, too, for arms. I can weep, at least. Hypermnestra to Lynceus Her aid to Theseus in his slaying of the Minotaur her brother, and his escape from the Labyrinth. 8 That his mother was divine and his aged father the burden of a loyal son gave hope he would remain my faithful husband. 1-273, and Seneca, Hercules Oetaeus. When she shall have no hope more of refuge by the sea or by the land, let her make trial of the air; let her wander, destitute, bereft of hope, stained red with the blood of her murders! It is not honour, but mere fair-seeming, and brings dole to us who bear the load; would you be wedded happily, wed your equal. Or make him to whom I have let my love go forth – I first, and with never shame for it – yield me himself, the object of my care! Or, better had I been weighed down once for all by everlasting night. [73] They say that you have held the wool-basket among the girls of Ionia, and been frightened at your mistress’ threats. The one was but a part of the soldier band; the other was chief of chiefs. Me, too, you should have slain, O false one, with the same bludgeon that slew my brother; then would the oath you gave me have been absolved by my death. If ‘twas fated for you to worship the gods that escaped the fires, the gods regret that they escaped the fires. 6. Pyrrhus holds me captive, though my father is returned and a victor – this is the boon brought me by the downfall of Troy! Built at the instigation of Athena. [103] I delay no longer, I come; I come thy bride, thine own by right; I am late, but ‘tis for shame of my fault confessed. [15] But do you, if your heart is touched with any natural care for me, Orestes, lay claim to your right with no timid hand. Burn me; I deserve it! Ah, how often, while with dour finger you twisted the thread, have your too strong hands crushed the spindle! 7 Federica Bessone, « Saffo, la lirica, l’elegia: su Ovidio, Heroides 15, » Materiali ediscussioni p ; 5 Nor does Gordon have the opportunity to examine the earlier works of Roman poetry that Ovid evokes in Heroides 15. 9. You are mistaken, and know it not – that spoil is not from the lion, but from you; you are victor over the beast, but she over you. Iole. "Metamorphoses" (Transformations) is a larger and greater collection than this, but in "Heroides" Ovid writes a collection of 21 letters from famous lovers (including Helen's daughter, Hermione). Even as I write comes rumour to me saying my lord is dying of the poison from my cloak. Cydippe to Acontius. A parody “always begins with a concession to the ground of the other, but continues with a simultaneous Aen. Dido to Aeneas (translated by Míceál F. Vaughan [1999]) Receive, Dardanian, the song of dying Elissa; What you read from me are the final words I have read. Tydeus my brother is exiled on an unknown shore11; my second brother’s life hung on the fateful fire12; our mother drove the steel through her own heart. [137] Me, too, you have possessed among your many loves – but me with no reproach. Are my bones to lie unburied, the prey of hovering birds of the shore? Had he been spiritless, and drowsed in his deserted halls, my mother would still be wed to Paris, as she was before. To her passes the full measure of your exploits – yield up what you possess; your mistress is heir to your praise. 2. Who imposed the twelve labours on Hercules at the instigation of Juno. [145] These hands, wearied with beating of my sorrowful breast, unhappy I stretch toward you over the long seas; these locks – such as remain – in grief I bid you look upon! 6 sed meriti famam corpusque animumque pudicum 7 cum male perdiderim, perdere verba leve est. 7. ‘Twould scarce require such toil to return again to Pergamum, were Pergamum still what it was while Hector lived. 4. So schreibt etwa Penelope an Ulixes, Briseis an Achilles, Dido an Aeneas, Medea an Jason oder Sappho an Phaon. You do not omit the skulls nailed up in Thracian homes, nor the mares made fat with the flesh of slain men; nor the triple prodigy, Geryones, rich in Iberian cattle, who was one in three; nor Cerberus, branching from one trunk into a three-fold dog, his hair inwoven with the threatening snake; nor the fertile serpent that sprang forth again from the fruitful wound, grown rich from her own hurt; nor him whose mass hung heavy between your left side and left arm as your hand clutched his throat; nor the equestrian array that put ill trust in their feet and dual form, confounded by you on the ridges of Thessaly. [133] Perhaps, too, it is Dido soon to be mother, O evil-doer, whom you abandon now, and a part of your being lies hidden in myself. If you shame to have me your wife, let me not be called bride, but hostess; so she be yours, Dido will endure to be what you will. HEROIDES CONTENTS. As I looked on a sight methought I had not deserved to see, I grew colder than ice, and life half left my body. 1. I am not of Phthia,5 nor sprung of great Mycenae, nor have I had a husband and a father who have stood against you. Thou, Meleager, shalt also see in me a sister of thine own! I marvel not – ah, no! ix. Among sepulchres she stalks, ungirded, with hair flowing loose, and gathers from the yet warm funeral pyre the appointed bones. . For you, enough to have the credit for my death. Transfer your Ilion to the Tyrian town, and give it thus a happier lot; enjoy the kingly state, and the sceptre’s right divine. 11. Phaedra to Hippolytus Ovid's Heroides, whose playful wit and rich mythology made them the most popular of his works in the Renaissance, have always refused to be neatly circumscribed.The heroines’ despairing letters to their faithless lovers teasingly invite the replies they so often forbid; yet replies are resisted and further mocked by the literary allusiveness and knowing self-reflexivity of Ovid's text. This would please Eurystheus,2 and it would pleas the sister of the Thunderer; stepdame3 that she is, she would gladly know of the stain upon your life; but ‘twould give no joy to him for whom, so ‘tis believed, a single night did not suffice for the begetting of one so great. More meet for the locks of Hercules were the white poplar. You began better than you end; your last deeds yield to your first; the man you are and the child you were are not the same. I am left helpless, a prey to the maws of ravening beasts; and if men dwell in the place and keep it, I put no trust in them – my hurts have taught me fear of stranger-men. 3. Announcements. Loeb, Cambridge, 1977 [PA6519.A2x 1977]. I was resolved at first – but my ill fate drew me on – to drive out with my women’s ban the stranger troop; the women of Lemnos know – yea, even too well – how to vanquish men.3 I should have let a soldiery so brave defend my cause. Hermione to Orestes Spare, O Venus, the bride of thy son; lay hold of thy hard-hearted brother, O brother Love, and make him to serve in thy camp! Go now, puff up your spirit and recount your brave deeds done; she has proved herself a man by a right you could not urge. Nor is it you for whom I am anxious; only let the little Iulus3 be spared! [153] Alas, for my devoted house! Yet my unhappy soul has the comfort, when Titan is urging aloft his radiant steeds, of being more free in its wretchedness; but when the dark of night has fallen and sent me to my chamber with wails and lamentation for my bitter lot, and I have stretched myself prostrate on my sorrowful bed, then springing tears, not slumber, is the service of mine eyes, and in every way I can I shrink from my mate as from a foe. 4. 3. Phyllis to Demophoon 3. Only now from Haemonian borders came a Thessalian stranger to my gates. Heroides VII by Ovid POP QUIZ! (Augustus found his rebellious daughter had Ovid's latest book.) Could I say to those who are slow to credit these reports, “He has written me this with his own hand,” how proud should I be! Ovid: The Heroides A complete English translation Home; Download; Heroides I-VII. 8. [1] From stolen Briseis is the writing you read, scarce charactered in Greek … Dickinson Latin Workshop: Ovid’s Heroides July 16–20, 2020. Penelope to Ulysses Iole, the daughter of Eurytus, and Aonian Alcides will be basely joined in shameful bonds of Hymen. “Lives he?” I cried, “or must fate call me too?” “He lives,” was his reply. Alas me! 2. 4. Dido to Aeneas And yet you yourself would have met with safety and protection at my hands – not that you deserved, but that I was merciful. Deianira to Hercules You were cast ashore by the waves and I received you to a safe abiding-place; scarce knowing your name, I gave to you my throne. EPISTLES 1 - 5. 21. LibriVox recording of Ovid's "Heroides", read by Librivox Volunteers, proofed and coordinated by Leni, and produced by Karen Merline. 12. 2. Publication date 1914 Publisher London : W. Heinemann; New York, Macmillan Collection cdl; americana [3] Not because I hope you may be moved by prayer of mine do I address you – for with God’s will adverse I have begun the words you read; but because, after wretched losing of desert, of reputation, and of purity of body and soul, the losing of words is a matter slight indeed. From within it four times have I heard myself called by a voice well known; ‘twas he himself crying in faintly sounding tone: “Elissa, come!”. [109] O changeable son of Aeson, more uncertain than the breezes of springtime, why lack your words the weight a promise claims? Ovid is entirely coherent in depicting this symmetrical model of giving in his Heroides 7 … Heroides and Amores Item Preview remove-circle Share or Embed This Item. There was here no ram, sightly with golden fleece, nor was Lemnos the royal home of old Aeëtes. [73] Grant a short space for the cruelty of the sea, and for your own, to subside; your safe voyage will be great reward for waiting. By Oeneus, for slaying a brother. ‘Twas the daughters of Argolis I feared – yet my ruin has been a barbarian jade! The Trachiniae of Sophocles dramatizes the Deianira story, and Apollodorus contains it. What can you charge me with but love? – do you only spare the house which gives itself without condition into your hand. [119] And now, too, I have brought forth; rejoice for us both, Jason! Hypsipyle deserved the sending of a greeting. The Greek translation of Maximus Planudes, of the latter part of the thirteenth century, from a Latin manuscript resembling the Parisinus, and of considerable value in the parts omitted by it. Leander to Hero, 19. Ovid is today best known for his grand epic, Metamorphoses, and elegiac works like the Ars Amatoria and Heroides. You will go to the haven of Cecrops; but when you have been received back home, and have stood in pride before your thronging followers, gloriously telling the death of the man-and-bull, and of the halls of rock cut out in winding ways, tell, too, of me, abandoned on a solitary shore – for I must not be stolen from the record of your honours! Table of Contents. Does not your dress rob from your tongue all utterance? This was the story you told me – yes, and it was warning enough for me! Briseis to Achilles Forgive me my offence! And for you to disgrace yourself by wearing the Maeonian zone, like a wanton girl – feel you no shame for that? He tells me of the brazen-footed oxen of Mars, how they ploughed, of the serpent’s teeth scattered upon the ground in way of seed, of men sprung suddenly forth and bearing arms – earth-born peoples slain in combat with their fellows, filling out the fates of their lives in the space of a day. Can you be left in the same chamber with her and not feel fear, and enjoy the slumber of the silent night? We came to thee both together; why do we not depart the same? Do you ask where the mother of pretty Iulus is? Even should you loose your cables at the persuasion of calm seas, there are none the less many woes to be met on the vasty deep. [27] Yet I am said to be well mated, because I am called the wife of Hercules, and because the father of my lord is he who thunders on high with impetuous steeds. The tempest rises to stay you. Who knows but that this shore breeds, too, the tawny lion? Canace to Macareus 17. Look you, how Eurus tosses the rolling waters! You are as much less than she, O greatest of men, as it was greater to vanquish you than those you vanquished. To you is owing peace upon the earth, to you safety on the seas; you have filled with worthy deeds both abodes of the sun.4 The heaven that is to bear you, yourself one bore; Hercules bent to the load of the stars when Atlas was their stay. Where the bonds of wedlock, and the marriage torch, more fit to set ablaze my funeral pile? should anyone break open your pens and steal away your herds, would you resort to arms? or what constellation shall I complain is hostile to my wretched self? Pelops won her in the race with Oenomaus, her father, whose death he compassed by tampering with Oenomaus’ charioteer Myrtilus. You do not allow me to turn away; the woman comes a captive through the city’s midst, to be looked upon by my unwilling eyes. Sic ubi fata vocant, udis abiectus in herbis Ariadne to Theseus, 11. I scarcely remember, to be sure, yet remember I do. Penelope to Ulysses 2. The home of Achilles. He whom not a thousand wild beasts, whom not the Stheneleian foe, whom not Juno could overcome, love overcomes. and does new-founded Carthage not touch you, nor her rising walls, nor the sceptre of supreme power placed in your hand? Full of fears is love; I made him say it on his oath. You have not shrunk from binding your shaggy hair with a woman’s turban! My lord is ever absent from me – he is better known to me as guest than husband – ever pursuing monsters and dreadful beasts. Hypsipyle to Jason 7. A woman has borne the darts blackened with the venom of Lerna, a woman scarce strong enough to carry the spindle heavy with wool; a woman has taken in her hand the club that overcame wild beasts, and in the mirror gazed upon the armour of her lord! The ways of deceit they know not; for the rest, they are like their father. The Heroides appears to be a completely different genre: Ovid assumes the voice of women appealing to their absent heroes. The differences arise from many sources including both the content and the basic nature and structure of the two works. Nor comes she after the manner of captive women, with hair unkempt, and with becoming countenance that tells to all her lot; she strides along, sightly from afar in plenteous gold, apparelled in such wise as you yourself in Phrygia. Laodamia to Protesilaus What have you gained but to spread the knowledge of your wretched shame, if a final act of baseness blots your former deeds? Trying out a poll question – what animal would you be? His horn could not have pierced that iron heart of thine; thy breast was safe, even didst thou naught to shield thyself. My heart is sick, and surges with mingled wrath and love. As the ill-mated steer yoked miserably at the plough, so fares the wife who is less than her mighty lord. Accipe, Dardanide, moriturae carmen Elissae; quae legis a nobis ultima verba legi. 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