ovid, heroides translation

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and people will think you’re a new goddess there. Then you surrender to me the shawl from your shoulders. Venus herself blesses you with courage. and let the cliffs of Latmia suggest themselves to your mind. Your cast is not the same; do you fight merely to live, and to return to your faithful queen’s embrace. Yet had this hand power to deal out murder at all, it would be bloody with the death of its own mistress. the handle slipped from my curving fingers. did only the girl give her name to the desolate waters? : you’re a judge of beauty: end the goddesses’ quarrel, one beauty is worthy of conquering the other two.’. Yet though I’ve said all this, though I’ve firmly rejected you. Meanwhile, I believe, the Fates turned to my prosperity. Three times I’ve left my clothes on the dry sands: three times, naked, painfully, I’ve tried to swim the roads: the swollen sea opposed my youthful undertaking. Spare me for confessing it, I beg you, and don’t read the rest of this. gives me strength, and adds to my courage. life, and the tide, together, abandoned the wretched creature, Whatever it means, I’m frightened: don’t mock my dream. Leave! when I cried to you: ‘You are so reckless, I’ll be mourning your courage in misery.’. Why are you so often, lingering slowly, absent from me? What is the cause of thy flight? torn limb from limb on thy day of birth; O my son, miserable pledge of my unhallowed love – this was the first of days for thee, and this for thee the last. – may my spirit vanish away into thin air before another than thou shall come a bride to my chamber! Stranger to our bed I say, I say to you, leave! But come, while he lies there, do like as the brave sisters – it well may be that all have slain their husbands! Daughter of Leda, I, the son of Priam, send you health. If my mind has seen gentle sleep through those nights. he found no time more fitting, to see his Cretan kingdom –. I don’t doubt, indeed, the whole is itself of equal art. Clare Pollard's ambition to update Ovid's Heroides – letters from Greek heroines to absent menfolk – has succeeded wittily Natalie Haynes Fri … When you have shunned him, remember to shun others; think that many Hectors are there; and see that you say, as oft as you make ready for the fight: “Laodamia bade me spare herself.” If it be fated Troy shall fall before the Argolic host, let it also fall without your taking a single wound! Three times now Hymen, coming to the altars raised for me. Even if your heart were harder than iron, Acontius. How far away then from your thought were Creusa’s dowry-realm, and the daughter of great Creon, and Creon the father of your bride! After my grief had found itself, I felt no shame to beat my breast, and rend my hair, and shriek, not otherwise than when the loving mother of a son whom death has taken bears to the high-built funeral pile his empty frame. Only, learn by example to be able to do without beauty: virtue is to refrain from self-indulgent pleasures. In this letter Ovid draws from Euripides and Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica III and IV. 13. The Desperation of Deianira: Heroides 9 and Early Modern Translation Richard Rowland Looking back at his numerous sustained encounters with the works of Ovid in the Preface to Examen Poeticum, 1693, John Dryden declared that he had in his translations thus far attempted to restore the Roman poet 'to his Native sweetness, easiness, and smoothness'. The famous golden ram, sightly for deep flock, is my dowry – the which, should I say to you “Restore it!” you would refuse to render up. I’ve no regret, nor does anything I chose seem foolish: my heart remains firm in its desire for you. I ask a great reward it’s true, and not one that is due me: Guided by this, I’ve made my uncertain way over the wide sea. and whatever else Delos displays – and I can’t remember. were presented to you for judgement on their beauty: if it were true, certainly the rest is fiction. [51] Aeëtes has spoken; in gloom you all rise up, and the high table is removed from the purple-spread couches. Phyllis to Demophoon 3. and this part of my letter might be hateful to you. and I’ll bear gifts more copious than you promised: I’ll be offered purple-dyed and precious fabrics. and the goddess wishes you intact, your promise intact. When Jason, of Pagasa, once entered Colchis. Traitor, you saw it – for who can well hide love? Nay, even the branches have laid aside their leafage, and no birds warble their sweet complaint; only the Daulian bird, most mournful mother who wreaked unholy vengeance on her lord, laments in son Ismarian Itys. Now I remember, when the sea was no less, or a little less. I place the cup I’ve lifted in front of my eyes: and the food sticks in my unwilling throat. that I was said to be the prize for your judgement. You’ll find the sea in harbour was calm for every ship, That torch of blood terrifies me too, that your mother saw. since I’ve had hopes of making you my bride. the waters I shouldered parting before me, of themselves. Indulge, but secretly! But if I wished now to cross the bounds of modesty. None the less, while you, a soldier in a distant world, will be bearing arms, I keep a waxen image to give back your features to my sight; it hears the caressing phrase, it hears the words of love that are yours by right, and it receives my embrace. Make us more, gliding through the defeated waves. if your writing really has such ready power. Or, if I perish, O more savage than any cliff or wave, you can endure the name of causing my death? I must weep, for my love – and elegy is the weeping strain; no lyre is suited to my tears. Still if you expect it, I’ll add my voice also to the fact: I burn – now you own the word that declares my heart. I wouldn’t have read it: but if I’d been harsh to you. It’s no wonder, with this compelling beauty. Thou wilt not be able to fly from thine own features. Penelope to Ulysses One prophesied that Troy would be burnt by Paris’s fire –. I would sing to you, I remember – for lovers remember all – and while I snag you stole kisses from me. and your hands, that I pray will come about my neck. Laodamia to Protesilaus – you have dared to say: “Withdraw from the palace of Aeson’s line!” At your bidding I have withdrawn from your palace, taking with me our two children, and – what follows me evermore – my love for you. to have been low-born, were signs of my secret nobility. 695 ff., refers to the story of Protesilaus, and Euripides uses it in his Protesilaus. Ariadne to Theseus. pale, touched by the chill of iced water. and while I marvelled at you greatly, a sure sign of passion. He ransomed the courtesan Rhodopis from Egypt, and was reproved by Sappho in a poem. or at least had not been known then, to me. Yes, weariness clings to me for no apparent reason. and the tree near to which the goddess in labour gave birth. If you intend return, and are making for your stern the votive gift, why tear my heart with delay? But I still wish you might see me, as you yourself asked. Spare me, I beg you, and release a more gentle breeze! Aegyptus. I’m not sure what I’ll do: it’s a grief to see you. See you make this fear of mine all vanish to the winds! Your body’s fitter for Venus than Mars. But Venus agreed this, and in the deep valleys of Ida. So that whenever you try to be unfaithful. Ei mihi! My nurse bent down and, marvelling, said: ‘Read this’. [149] But we are left uncertain; we are forced by anxious fear to fancy all things befallen which may befall. For all your talk and tales of brave deeds. She sits outside my door, and on being asked how I am, within. giving secret signals, and your eyebrows almost speaking! If I’d been seduced, the crime would have been mine: since I was forced, what was I but unwilling? You might tell your mother all. The earth can scarcely sustain so many people. So many vain things move me, wrong that’s done deceives. that the witnessed promise has been neglected. and pray you’re stronger than my admonishments: provided you’d come and throw those weary arms. and often my arms are wearied by the endless motion. as you take your course the flames will burn with cinnamon. © Copyright 2000-2020 A. S. Kline, All Rights Reserved. As I can and might, I struggle to hide my passion. a little of you might bring much reconciliation. And my husband’s away, and you sleep without a partner. Does so narrow a stretch of water obstruct me less? To Mars the bulls belonged, raging with more than mere horns, for their breathing was of terrible fire; of solid bronze were their feet, wrought round with bronze their nostrils, made black, too, by the blasts of their own breath. Either I haven’t learnt how rash I might be. Palmer, who reads lassus and abi, pictures Medea and her son in the street. with your rivalry, and I’m wounded by my own charm itself. Perhaps, cruel one, you’ll still sleep with me, unwillingly. and our halls will not hold all the daughters of Phyrgia. Ariadne to Theseus. as Hippomenes took Atalanta, Schoeney’s daughter, in the race. This is the picture of Aeolus’ daughter writing to her brother; in this guise, it seems, I may please my hard-hearted sire. net. Now I fear, and am ashamed, though not conscious of any guilt. After the slightest pause, I say: ‘Now he’s swimming, for sure, and his slow arms are cleaving the water.’. I was fearful, and read your letter without a murmur. where placid sheep, and she-goats that love the rocks. We part weeping, and I re-enter virgin Helle’s waters. – She whom I follow is herself a goddess. that you’re accustomed to suffer whenever you try to deceive. EPISTLES 6 - 10. She implores aid for your Minyae. Bacchus, or Jove, to be the judges of my dangerous path. I’m not one who’s accustomed to criticise Paris’s actions. Night was falling – indeed I remember the pleasure of it –. they gain strength right away, and strain for the prize. And sudden strength returned to my weary arms. Would you believe with what difficulty I write this meagre letter. Now I’ve wearied my sick body with this pen: and my hand denies further service, in my illness. accepted love-making while under a false illusion: the adulterer was hidden by a swan’s plumage. and my innocence was seen to be capable of capture. OVID, HEROIDES 16 - 18. Though you have another contract now with identical words. 11. there was a great, and valid, cause for his sudden journey: or so it seemed to me. Books XVI to XXI. what will you consider the daughters of Greece possess? solitary, crowded with pines and holm-oaks. Also someone complains, now that vague rumour whispers it. whom you cruelly allow to die from a shameful illness. And let me perish if everything does not invite my sin: I don’t know why I delay, but for the fear itself. I’m not a low-born man choosing a noble wife. I wouldn’t take the noise of rumour’s wings so lightly. Ovid's Heroides (Paperback). The Bacchic frenzy. – to trust myself to the sea, woman though I was, and now with guilt upon me. [33] And now, heavy with food and wine they lay in sleep, and deep repose had settled on Argos, free from care – when round about me I seemed to hear the groans of dying men; nay, I heard indeed, and what I feared was true. This too, if you would believe it: to you the way seemed smooth: from you returning, a hill of inert water. fondles my fevered limbs, placing his hands there. My father and my uncle are at war; we are driven from our realms and from our home; we are cast away to the fartheset parts of earth. In the twenty-one poems of the Heroides, Ovid gave voice to the heroines and heroes of epic and myth. I don’t say this because you’ve shown signs of it happening. My witness be Juno, ward of the rites of wedlock, and the goddess in whose marble shrine we stand!”. There Phoebus from on high looks down on the whole wide stretch of sea – of Actium, the people call it, and Leucadian. I’ve not sinned at all, except that I read a false oath aloud. I shall go, O nymph, to seek out the cliff thou toldst of; away with fear – my maddening passion casts it out. “Here, mother, come out!” 6 he cries to me. and, with me holding you, the storm would do you no harm. and threw the divided entrails on the smoking fires. didn’t happen without the counsel and will of the gods. Icy though you may be, cruel one, still, can you deny, What joy in plundering would you have known. You won’t swear another oath of love because of this: it’s enough that you once promised to be mine. cur umquam iuvenalibus acta lacertis Phrixeam petiit Pelias arbor ovem? You’ll say to yourself, when you see I endure it all: ‘He who serves so well, he may serve me!’. Halycons alone appeared, lamenting to me. and the land of Thessaly wasn’t harmed at Colchian hands. Do you think you might avoid calling on her in childbirth. Ah, I won’t speak crudely, or too frankly Helen. Come! You have left me nothing, nothing except my wrong; and you – you have no token of my love to put you in mind of me. I’ll speak the rest through my friends Clymene and Aethra. A thousand wiles remain: I toil at the base of the hill: my passion won’t let anything go untried. then demand the rights of the promised bed by law. Though the shores of the Icarian Sea are not far from here. You were worthy of me if anyone was, you, more justly. Go straightway seek the high Leucadian cliff, nor from it fear to leap!”. Why blush before you start? victorious, she retraced her steps to the sky. Ovid's Heroides: A New Translation and Critical Essays: Murgatroyd, Professor of Classics Paul, Reeves, Bridget, Parker, Sarah: Amazon.nl you, beware lest the first one’s shafts harm you! There is in it – there was, at least – a shrine to Diana, wherein stands the goddess, a golden image fashioned by barbaric hand. Then should the seas have risen to stay your oars; that was the fitting time for the floods to rage. making offerings of golden incense and wine: and, while my mother drenched the altar in sacrificial blood. My dowry is yourself – saved; my dowry is the band of Grecian youth! Weigh anchor! also you don’t come because you fight a hostile storm. and don’t love him, I will be surely be fine. Further I blush to tell, but all takes place; I feel the delight, and cannot rule myself. Ariadne to Theseus. Did Theseus repent, so that Paris might succeed him. you’ll bear a famous name, to all posterity. or don’t you realise a king’s hands have a long reach? Hypsipyle to Jason 7. Though she held you from going, she could not stop you. and left me, in the middle of stating my requests. now, joined to you, I warm you with my heart. You’ll have no thanks. [79] O ye sons of Dardanus, spare, I pray, from so many foes at least one, lest my blood flow from that body! Shouldn’t it concern me that one born of those has you? or have places fallen from your mind along with me? I entertain myself, and no adulterer has my approval. I do not plead for thee to love, but to let thyself be loved. and I’ll seek you continually, though you beware my seeking. I was happy to leave ,right away, for Aegean waters. Oenone to Paris. shows its bright stars, driving away the daylight. What when the Pleiades, and Bootës. Either you’ve, now, no care for the girl you hoped for. and Ida yielded me timbers without number. which I fear she intends will be all too few. You’ll see endless cities, and golden palaces. Though I chose to become your bride in Troy. No sudden chance, but God himself, sends that delay of yours. Now cruel Persephone beats harshly on my door. Where is that great swimmer scorning the tides? by your people’s mouths, he’s rightly more anxious. Let your fragile body be wearied no longer by this letter, and let it be closed with the usual ending: ‘Farewell!’. Spare us, proud one, and embroil yourself in battle out at sea: this short passage separates our two lands. Phaedra to Hippolytus 5. 4. Sweet Venus laughed: ‘Don’t let either of their gifts fool you. Lo, see, my hair lies scattered in disorder about my neck, my fingers are laden with no sparkling gems; I am clad in garment mean, no gold is in the strands of my hair, my locks are scented with no gifts of Araby. She you think capable of having compassed her husband’s death fears even to write of murder done by hands not her own! [1] Greetings and health Haemonian Laodamia sends her Haemonian lord,1 and dsires with loving heart they go where they are sent. Do thou, nevertheless, O hoped for in vain by thy wretched sister, collect, I entreat, the scattered members of thy son, and bring them again to their mother to share her sepulchre, and let one urn, however scant, possess us both! the torch in my heart, such as there is now. and love is nurtured by the hope you’ve given me. The parrot. When my husband’s away like this, absent he still guards me. This the god, this his seer, this his oracle declare: ah, no power is lacking to support your wishes! 1. Others to be well suffer steel and flame. and Capella’s Kids wound me and the waters? to be thought, mindful of you, protects you with her anger: She scarcely did more for Hippolytus himself. and golden-haired Laodice, and Celaeno, received in heaven. and follow you the more, girl worthy of the heavens. What I do remains, and you, o my sole delight, I love. Ah, the crime of it! at the regal gifts and statues set up everywhere. When I can see you clearly, your watching. In the midst of the palace hall sits Aeolus; the sign of my fault must be removed from my father’s eyes. – and with their bodies press the couches that deserve to be funeral beds. Hermione to Orestes 9. many more than you think, that Love spreads for you. [173] Her warning given, she ceased her speech, and vanished; in terror I arose, and my eyes could not keep back their tears. to tamper with the rightful loyalty of a wife! Have I neglected your altars, of all the deities: is it that. I confess, I’m afraid of the anger of Leto’s fierce daughter. There let the North Wind shut me in, where delay is sweet: There I’ll be reluctant to swim, there I’ll be cautious. and the slowly flickering light in his hand is barely rising. cur umquam Colchi Magnetida … Venus winning the palm would have been in doubt. And I wish the sails had been always set against me! and are afraid now of the straits you despised before? and I love her, now, whom you perhaps might. And as Venus favours you, because she triumphed, and holds. My genius had its powers from him; with him they were swept away. I’m sorry I’m a guest, when I see that boor. Hers holds Ephyre,2 washed by two seas; mine, all the country which lies along the left strand of the Pontus e’en to the snows of Scythia. So they’ll either demand you back, without the tumult of war. Yet suppose our husbands have deserved to die – what have we done ourselves? I knew not what caused the sudden pangs in me; to travail I was unused, a soldier new to the service. What you complain of is capable of uniting us. You’ll promise gifts: she knows your promises are false. some of them think it was caused by your poisons. You, who so often seek whom you love, as often leave her. more too than you may be able to give back to me. Grant only that you won’t reject a Phrygian husband too easily. Then will I consecrate to Phoebus my shell, our common boon, and under it shall be writ one verse, and a second: Perhaps indeed you might make me swear a contrary oath. [63] Dead that I am, believe me, yet at your words I live again, and have brought forth the reproach and burden of my womb. Deianira to Hercules 10. Hermione to Orestes Who would be willing to return homeward with the wind saying nay? Often I seem with the burden of my neck to press your arms, often to place beneath your neck my arms. She’ll say: ‘I beg you marry whoever the good gods joined you to: whom you were sworn to, he’ll be my son-in-law. that men of Tyre use: my love needs no visible stars. Later translations and creative responses to the Heroides include Jean Lemaire de Belges's Premiere Epître de l'Amant vert (1505), Fausto Andrelini's verse epistles (1509–1511; written in the name of Anne de Bretagne), Michel d'Amboise's Contrepistres d'Ovide (1546), and Juan Rodríguez de la Cámara's Bursario, a partial translation of the Heroides. She’ll hear, and recalling what she’s heard, she’ll ask. yourself, and me, and the pledge you gave! Do you think that while I lived I’d let you leave my side? who can never be safe unless you’re safe too. 5s. So why have you, who so often felt the power of love. she who trustingly fondled the illusory bird in her lap. And while you are telling them, though it delight to hear, you will snatch many kisses none the less, and will give me many back. Why did you neglect it? Would that either thou hadst seen fault in the face of the Taenarian wife, of she had taken no pleasure in thine! Then ‘twas that I saw you, then began to know you; that was the first impulse to the downfall of my soul. And now I sail, by her divine command – you shouldn’t sin. Often I look to see if your footprints might mark the shore. may this delay caused by the raging straits be a long one. Alas for me that I can’t implement the doctor’s orders. You embrace me, and join in happy kisses –. 2. But how much better for my bosom to be pressed to yours than headlong to be hurled from the rocks! All your hopes depend on my living: why should the cruel goddess. Let good hope give thee strength; for now thou shalt be thy brother’s bride. as when Cytherea came to me for judgement. and where I drank from, you drink from that place too. Hypermnestra to Lynceus Let the penalty that is our due overtake us on the deep – you for your treachery, me for my trustfulness! if the countries were full of my unchastity. nothing remains for me but to do what I do, to love. it splutters, and thereby gives me a favourable sign. I felt the whole of both cheeks had reddened. To think that Jove’s the father-in-law of this house! 4. – and by the heavenly Nine who are my deities, I swear to you, when someone said to me: “Your joys are flying from you!” for a long time I could not weep, and could not speak! Medea begins suddenly, as if in answer to a refusal of Jason to listen to her plea. When I tell them: ‘The reward for your labours will not be small, soon it will be granted you to embrace your lady’s neck,’. as the distance grows less, my joy increases. and indeed it almost set a trap for my eyes. or that my beauty’s not well-known to me, but because credulity’s usually harmful to girls. And you won’t concede, nor does he think himself inferior. Ovid’s Heroides: A New Translation and Critical Essays Paul Murgatroyd , Bridget Reeves , Sarah Parker This volume offers up-to-date translations of all 21 epistles of Ovid's Heroides. Shall I speak out, or is there no need to signal known passion. Cleis. Let the name of the action be fraud, and let it be called crafty. Yourself lay quiet; the wine I had given you was the wine of sleep. that’s ashamed to speak of things it delights in doing. [107] What crime could the babe commit, with so few hours of life? my mother arranged my hair as prescribed. I think this sea was found like this, when first. [15] Boreas came swooping down, seized on and stretched your sails, and my Protesilaus soon was far away. I could no longer deny myself that hope of mine. take me to your bed in the silence of the night. Kline, A.S., (poetry translation) "Ovid - The Heroides" Author Email: [email protected] Description of text The Heroides: Ovid's fictional letters written by eighteen mythological women to their lovers. and the yellow of his robe transfers to his blushing cheeks. Is it presents like this, O my sire, you give me on my marriage? [85] I confess now, I would have called you back, and my spirit strove; but my tongue stood still for fear of evil auspice. which do contain it, it is either annexed or prefixed to the whole. and my fatigue’s not helped by any doctor’s cure. straight away I set out the unsleeping lights in the tower’s top. Among the thousand ships let yours be the thousandth craft, and the last to stir the already wearied wave! Deianira to Hercules 10. I’m tormented equally whether it’s your marriage or sickness: I can’t say now which of them I least desire: meanwhile I’m distressed, that I might be a cause of your pain. I ask not sin of you, but marriage and a true contract: I love as one bound in marriage, not an adulterer. vi. Let it be unsure whether you can be caught: you’ll be caught for sure. I rise, and clutch with trembling hand the steel. and the course of my life is free of blemish. and it was bright as day in the silent night. 3. Lest your mother’s still unsure how vital the words might be. The story of Io, daughter of the river Inachus. Theseus snatched you, the Twins took the daughters of Leucippus: I’ll be numbered there too, as a fourth example. 6. and now, by nods, I gave you secret messages. Soon, when sleep, the best reason for extended privacy. If the forces of love are in the seed it could hardly be. Compare also Hyginus, Fab. By as much as all the stars yield to your fires. Order me now to come at my lady’s whim. Inachus, Io, Epaphus, Libya, Belus, Danaus – was their descent. Read on! Jupiter delights in these intrigues, and lovely Venus: such an intrigue surely gave you Jove for a father. Nor could I render myself a reason why I did these things; I did not know what it was to be in love – yet in love I was. Dido to Aeneas 8. Are they wise, or is Paris the only one with eyes? and his dragging robe has been bright with saffron. Perhaps you’re ashamed, and fear to desecrate the marriage bond. I swore nothing to her: she alone can impart truth to what’s been said. Yards are added to masts, and receive the hanging shrouds. Grief stops my art, and all my genius is halted by my woes. Helle’s waters whiten with unruly waves. 16. It is still summer. Sometimes a wrong benefits those who suffer it. 6. but a worse grief to be absent from your face. You’d become at once the author and critic of the offence. Kept close in the palace am I, bound with heavy chains; and the cause of my punishment is that I was faithful. Oenone to Paris. My very incantations, herbs, and arts abandon me; naught does my goddess aid me, naught the sacrifice I make to potent Hecate. now she’ll reach out her lovely hand for you. By the gods above, by the light of your grandsire’s beams, by my favours to you, and by the two children who are our mutual pledge – restore me to the bed for which I madly left so much behind; be faithful to your promises, and come to my aid as I came to yours! 7. And I follow the will of the gods, gods you are master of. reproving the waves almost with the words you use: or when the waves slacken their weight of savagery a little. and see your promised bride’s weakened limbs! In fact he’s noble and of a distinguished family. 1. My prime pleasure is to have so pleased Venus: the next, that you saw me as the greatest prize, and preferred neither Hera’s nor Athene’s offerings. EPISTLES 11 - 15. and love won’t be hindered by the winds: if the tale of your crimes against Amymone, and Tyro. And distance creates more fear, for the absent. You can’t deny the fact, as the goddess is my witness. I want to persuade you not to do as I urge. Probably as a pirate. Return to this camp, deserter from mutual love: why should my body be left in the centre of the bed?

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