your friends in banishment doth lye In farthest part of all the world but I And the gods grant that those who reverencâ— show And love to you this Country may not know Let us mongst Ice and Scythian arrowes live If we to death the name of life may give Either the earth with warre doth us oppresse Or else the ayre with cold doth us distresse Or the fierce Gete with Armes doth us assayle Or else the winter sendeth stormes of hayle No grapes or apples in this Country be No part of it from enemies is free May your other friends in happinesse goe on Of which as of the people I once was one Woes me 〈◊〉 that these words doe thee offend And that thou doest deny I was thy friend Pardon my lye if that thy words be true My glory takes away no prayse from yoâ— Who doth not faine himselfe a friend to be To Caesar you shall Caesar be to me Yet I into your friendship have not broken T is enough if the gates of love stand open Though you will have nothing with me to doe Permit me that I may salute thee too Your father did not deny â—e his friend But wished me my studdy to attend At whose death I wept and writ Elegies As my last gift to attend his obsequies I lov'd â— is brother too besides all this As stout Atrides did Tindaridâ—s Yet he scornd not my love nor company If you thinke this did him no injury If not I will confesse that I doe lye Let me lose the love of his family Yet why should I lose it since no power can A friend from doing an offer resâ—raine Though I could wish I could my fault deny All know it was free from impiety If my fault did not pardonable seeme Banishment too small punishment had beene But Caesar saw this who doth all things see That my offence might folly called be He spar'd me for my offences quality And usd his â—laming thunder moderately My life nor country he tooke not away If you by suite his anger could allay But yet my fall was great for t is no wonder He should be wounded that 's strucke with Ioves thunder And though Achilles his â—â—ackned force restraind Peâ—â—as speare wounded deepely from his hand Since direfull judgement hath overtooke me so There 's no cause why thy gate should not me know I frequented your house oft I doe confesse But t was my fortune to doe so I guesse No other house of my love had such proofe For I was alwayes underneath your roofe And your love did not on your selfe reflect But as a brother did your friend respect Besides that then advanced to honour wert Thou mayest both thanke thy fortune and desert If I may wish wâ—at thou desiâ—'st thy selfe That thou mayst give not pay aske the gods welth So thou dost may I mention it to thee Thy goodnesse makes thee bountifull to be And therefore Meâ—â—aline let me be plac'd Amongst your other friends though I be last And grieve that Ovids griefe deserv'd doth seeme If not for 's griefe grieve he hath faulâ—y beene ELEGIE IX To Severus SEverus whom my Soule loves as it selfe Thy Ovid loved of thee doth wish thee health Aske not how I doe for if my griefes were Reckon'd they would enforce from thee a teare It is enough for thee that thou dost know The totall Summe of all my griefe and woe We live without peace and in armes still are The Quiver-bearing Gete still making warre Of so many banisht men I onely am At once a Souldier and a banisht man And that thou mayst my bookes with pardon take I in my Armour did these verses make There stands a City upon Isters side By walls and situation Fortifide Aegypsus if that we may them beleeve Did build it and his name thereto did give This the Gete tooke th' Odrysians being slaine And 'gainst the King did a fierce warre maintaine Discent and vallour caused him to raise An Army which he thither led straight wayes Nor departed not till on his slaughterd foes He did revenge himselfe with bloody blowes And mayst thou valiant King even many a day The glorious Scepter of this Land still sway And besides what fuller wish can thee behove May Martiall Rome and Caesar thee approve But to returne O sweete companion I Complaine the warres encreasd my misery Since farre from you in Scythia I have beene The rising Pleiades have foure Autumnes seene You will not beleeve Ovid thinkes upon The Cities pleasure yet he thinkes thereon Now sweete friends I remember you and after I thinke upon my deare wife and my daughter And on the buildings in the City be For in my fancy I doe all things see The Courts the houses and Theaters lind With Marble and the Porch it brings to minde The fields and gardens into minde it brings The standing Lakes the streames and virgin Springs Yet though I am depriv'd of Cities pleasure I thinke I may in the Country spend my leasure My minde doth not desire to view these fields Or delights the Pelâ—gnian Country yeelds Nor these gardens which upon the mountaines lay By Claudia's house nere the Flaâ—inian way Where I in gardning used to take some paine And to water young plants held it for no shame Some grafts I set if living there doe stand Whose fruite must not be gathered by my hand Which pleasures having lost I wish that I Might here though banisht practise husbandry Goates that doe climbe upon the rockes I would keepe Or leaning on my staffe tend on my sheepe And that my minde with cares might not be broke My labouring Oxen I would daily yoke I would learne words the Getiâ—ke Oxen know With usuall threatnings making them on goe I 'de hold the Plough and heavily on it lye And to soâ— seede on fâ—rrowes I would try And with my long hooke I the fields would weede Or water my garden if that it did neede But how should I doe this there onely be A wall and gate 〈◊〉 us and the enemy But I am glad the fatall sisters did At the birth spinne thee a more happy thread The fiâ—lds and shady Porch thou dost frequent Or the Court where thou little time hast spent In Appian Coach tâ—ou dost the City leave While Vmbria and Aâ—â—ana thee receive Where you wish Caesar would be pleasd againe And that your village migâ—t me â—ntertaine O friend it is too much which you require Contract your wishes moderate your desire Let me live in a Country from warres free This will take off part of my misery ELEGIE X. To Maximus OF Celsus death I in your Letter read Which made teares from my eyes straightway proceed And that which I did never thinke could be I read your Letter most unwillingly No harsher newes my eare did ever strike In Pontus may I never heare the like Me thinkes that I doe see him still surviving My love doth make me thinke he should be living I often thinke how merry
can any Soveraigne waters worke it out So sometimes no Art can cure griefe and care Till they by lâ—ngth of time outworne are For when thy words had well confirm'd my mind Arm'd with that courage I in thee did find My Countries love above reason did prevaile And made the comfort of thy writings faile Call it affection or a womanish part I confesse that wretched I have a soft heart Vlisses wisedome cannot doubled be Yet he did wish his Countries smoake to see All thinke their native soyle to be most sweete And in absence they will remember it What more faire than Rome while Scythia cold lyes Yet the Salvage from the City hither flies Thus Pandion daughters shut in a Cage of wire To returne unto the woods doe still desire Wild Buls the Forrests where they haunt approve And the wild Lyons their usuall Dens doe love Yet your words cannot draw out of my brest The sting of banishment that doth it molest Make your selves lesse belov'd of me that I May beare the want of your sweete company For I am banisht from my native Land To an inhumane place of fates command â—n the farthest part of the world I abide Whereas continuall Snow the earth doth hide For here the barren and unfruitfull field No apples nor sweete pleasant grapes doth yeeld No Osiers on the Rivers bankes are seene Nor Oakes upon the Mountaines doe looke greene Nor can you prayse the Sea more than the Land Whose gloomie waves swell at the windes command Wheresoere you looke untill'd fields you may see And vast grounds that to none belonging be The enemie on each hand doth abide And puts us in a fright on either side One side doth feele the strong Bistonian bowes On the other the Sarmatian arrowes throwes Gâ—e and some old example shew to me Of men that bravely bore adversitie Admire the valiant Rutilus who did scorne To make use of a conditionall returne He in Smyrna not in Pontus then did live Smyrna a place which did much pleasure give Sinopeus griefe for his Country was not great For he chose Attica to be his seate Neoclides who the Persian power did quell In a Graecian Cittie banished did dwell Aristides did to Lacedemon flye Which of his Country had no prioritie Patroclus having done a murther runne away From Opus and came to Thessalia He that from Aemonia was a banisht man Vnto the waters of Pirenis came And went Captaine of that ship which sayl'd to Greece To fetch from Câ—lchos the rich golden fleece Cadmus from Sidons wals did coâ—e away That a better foundation he might lay And Tydâ—us banished from Calidon Vnto Adrastus did for succour come And Carthage which faire Venus still defended Receiv'd Aenâ—as and him much befriended What should I shew how the ancient â—omanes sent Their banisht men no farther than Tiber went Should I reckon all the banishment that were Yet from their Country none were sent so farre Then let your wisedome pardon my sad griefe If by your words it doe â—â—nde smâ—ll releefe I 〈◊〉 s if that my griefes could be compos'd My wound of griefe had by your words beene clos'd But I feare you in vaine doe strive to cure me And that you can no helpe at all procure me I speake not this because I wiser am But more knowne to my selfe than the Physician However I your goodwill doe esteeme Which hath most acceptable to me beene ELEGIE V. To his Wife Now age upon my haire a whitenesse sprinckles And on my face hath plough'd up many wrinckles The vigor of my body now doth languish 〈◊〉 all my strength doth ruine to paiâ—e and anguish â—hose sports which pleased me when I was young â—re most unpleasant unto me bâ—come â—or on a suddaine can you me scarce know â—â—nce I by age doe so much changed shew â—eares I confesse this change upon me drawes â—et griâ—fe and labour doe it also cause â— my yeares be reckoned by my misery â—han ancient Nestoâ— I shall older be â—ou see that Oxen through their strength abound â—re worne out with ploughing stiffe clay ground â—nd that ground which doth never fallow lye â—y bearing fruit doth barren wâ—xe thereby the â—orse will be tyr'd out and even fall downe â—hat in the race continually doth runne 〈◊〉 ship decayes that still at Sea doth lye 〈◊〉 she be not moor'd within the docke to dry 〈◊〉 length of troubles makes my strength decline â—nd maketh me grow old before my time 〈◊〉 rest doth feede the body and the mind â—ut immoderate labour weares both out we â—inde â—ecause that Iason hither sayl'd you see â—on he was praised by posteritie â—ut his labours lesser were than mine though fain'd â— great mens actionâ— may be truely scan'd â—or he to Pontus was by Peltas sent â—ho in Thessalia held his government â—aesars wrath hurt me whom all Lands every where â—on the rising to the setting Sunne doe â—eare â—â—monia is to Pontus neerer farre â—han Rome and the cold River Ister are â—o that his journey shorie was than mine â—esides he had some chiefe Graecians aâ— that time Who went along to beare him company But in my banishment all my friends left me We in a weake barke ploughing the Sea were But it was a stout Ship that did Iasoâ— beare Nor was Typhis our Pilot or Amintors sonne To reach us how to steare or what course runne Pallas and royall Iuno him protected But none of Heavens powers my ship directed And Cupids stolne pleasures he discerned Which I doe wish from me he had learned He return'd home we in these fields must dye If Caesars wrath endure continually Therefore my troubles heavier doe appeare Most constant wife than those Iason did beare And though when I left the City thou wert young I beleeve thou now with griefe art aged growne Yet I wish the gods would grant I might thee see And kisse thee though thy haire white changed be Embracing thy slender body while I remember That griefe for me did make thee grow thus slender That I with teares might tell my griefes to thee While thou with â—eares didst hearken unto me Relating my past labours while that I Enjoyed thy unhop'd for company That to Caesar and his Consort I might bring Frankinceâ—se as a gratefull offering I wish that Caesars wrath were so appeas'd That faire Auronâ— would but once be pleas'd That she would bring this happy newes away Soone as her Rosy cheâ—ke sends forth the day ELEGIE VI To Maximus NAso that was esteemed in times past Amongst thy other friends not to be last Maximus doth entreate thee now to reade These words which from his banisht Musâ— proceede â—ooke not in them for former straines of wit You know that they in banishment were writ The body by idlenesse doth corrupt grow And water corrupts that doth not move or flow â—o if I had in verse a happy straine â—or want of use I have lost it now againe â—nd Maximus if you will beleeve me I â—hese lines you
make Yet let no Poets my words misesteeme As spoke against those verses made by them Let them not gather this construction hence My Muse hath spoke but in her owne defence Poets I am one of your company And of your Tribe although in misery Friends I did alwayes in my Soule affect you And now in absenâ—e I asmuch respect you Then favor my verse and let them gaine thence Applause since I can't speake in my defence Those workes are grievous and doe oftnest please That come forth after the Authors decease Because that envy doth unjustly use To wound the living and their name abuse If sad life be death then I am dead And onely stay but to be buried The earth is onely stay'd that should be throwne Vpon me and I onely want a Tombe Lastly although my worke should all offend Yet no man will my duty reprehend Though strength doe faile the will praiseworthy is The gods I suppose are content with this And accept the poore mans will that doth bring A Lambe as wâ—ll as an Oxe offring This Subject was so great that it was fit For that chiefe Poet who Aeneads wrâ—t Soft Elegies the great waight could not beare Of Triumph since their feete unequall were And I am doubtfull now what verse to frame For Rhene shall yeeld a new triumph againe Poets presages have not untrue beene Fresh Bayes must Caesar crowne while these are greene Nor doe you reade my words who here am sent To the River Ister unto banishment Where the Getes who are never pacified Drinke of the streame as it along doth glide They are the words of that power that inspiâ—es me By whose 〈…〉 thus prophesie Livia why delay you to prepâ—re His chariot for his triumphs gain'd by warre Vnfaithfull Germany throwes her Speares away My prophesie hath waight you now willsay Beleeve me it to passe shall shortly come That honours shall be doubled on thy Sonne And in his chariot he shall then be seene Drawne on with horses as he once hath beene Bring forth his robes that are of purple dye To cloath â—is shoulders for his victory His wreâ—th of Bayes may even know his head Which it so often hath encircled His Buckler Helmet shall with gold shine bright Aâ—d pecious stones which cast a glittering light The pieces of those Trophies he did get From the foe shall above their head be set The Townes are compassd with a Towring wall And the faigned shew doth seeme to be reall Let conquer'd Rhene goe now under the speare And drinke those waters which with blood dy'd were The Captive Kings shall all of them lay by Their barbarous ornaments of regaliâ—ie And all their royall robes and vestures which Are for their present fortune farre too rich And other honours too which ought to be Emblemes of vertue in thy ancestry Ye gods by whâ—se power I doe prophesie I pray you my words quickly verifie ELEGIE V. To Cotta WOuld'st know from whence this letter doth thee greete From thence where Ister doth the bâ—ew Sea meete The place 〈◊〉 nam'd you ought to thinke on me Ovid who perish'd by ingenuâ—tie Who from the salvage Getes doth send thee health Cotta which he had rather bring himselfe Young man heire to thy Fatherâ— eloquence we Have read the words spoke in full Court by thee And having spent many hourâ—s to reade them o're I was then sorry that they were no more By often reading more of them I did make And alwayes much delight in them did take Which still their former sweetnesse did retaine And I was pleasd with the strength of thy vaine They are happy that thy speeches heare and know And from whose mouth such eloquence doth flow Though waters sweete which we away doe bring It s sweeter being drunke out of the Spring To â—ather apples from the bough it is Pleasanter than being tooke out of a dish But if my erring Muse had not banisht me Thy workes had beene recited then by thee And as I was wont I might then too sit With hundred others a Iudge of thy wit And my heart had beene filled with more delight Being tooke with those words you did recite You and my Country being left the fates Had rather I should be amongst the Geâ—es But that I may by reading present be Some pledges of your study send to me Example from me take if you will receive That which you may to me more rightly give For Maximus I that long ruin'd am Strive to recover by my wit againe Then let me in requitall receive from thee Some workes which shall hereafter gratefull be Tell me O young man that art so enclin'd To my studies bring they not me to minde To what friends dost thou thy new verse recite Or else to reade their owne dost them excite My absence sometimes makes thee grieve in mind Which in it selfe a want of me doth find And as in presence thou wouldst speake of me So Oâ—ids name is mention'd now by thee May I by Geticke bowes be slaine and dye Punishment soone o'retaketh perjury If I in absence doe not thee still see Thankes to the gods the mind and thought is free By helpe whereof I to the City come Vnseene and often talke with thee alone Then it is hard to say how I esteeme That white houre which so happy then doth seeme Then I conceite if I may be beleev'd That into heaven I am then receiv'd And I doe then conceive my selfe to be With the gods in their blessed company But then I thinke I am here bereaven Both of the gods society and heaven And then me thinkes that this some Poâ—ticke land From Stygian Lake farre distant doth not stand Whence if 'gainst fate I strive repeal'd to be Maximus out of this vaine hope put me ELEGIE VI To his Companioâ— OVid to his friend whom he had even nâ—m'd From Euxine shore sends these liâ—es here contain'd For if I rashly who thou art had written Blame for my love perhaps I should have gotten If thou aske why I doe not name thee too As others thinke I may them safely doe Since thou dost know great Caesars clemency In midst of wrath I can thee câ—rtisie If I should judge my selfe I could not offer To take off any punishment which I suffer To remember my friends he forbids not me Noâ— that I should write to thee thou to me It is no wickednesse if thou dost spend Some gentle words to comfort up thy friend This feare of thine makes Caesars Majesty â—eeme dreadfull and thereby envy'd to be We have seene those were thunder strucke yet did Revive againe Iove did not it forbid Neptune did teare Vâ—sses ship and â—end His Barke Leucotâ—â—e did him be friend Neither did she deny to lend to him Her ayd while he through the greene waves did swimme Beleeve me gods doe spare men in distresse The wretched they doe not alwayeâ— oppresse And no god can than Caesar milder be Who makes his justice power qualliâ—ie To which a
read have writ unwillingly â—ly minde my present griefes cannot resist â—ly Muse among the Getes will not me assist Yet to write some verses I doe strive you see Though they as rugged as my fortunes bee And I am asham'd when I have red them over â—ecause I in them so many faults discover â—hat in my judgement who them first did frame â—hey doe deserve to be blotted out againe â—et to mend them then to write them is more paine â—nd my sicke mind no labour can sustaine â—hall I beginne to use an exacter line â—o place with judgement every word of mine â—e that would have my troubles worser grow â—akes the River Lychus into Hebrus flow â—r maketh the high Mountaine Achos add â—eaves to the Alpes of which they great store had Therefore you ought a woâ—nded minde to spare Oxen leave dravving when they gawled are If profit would requite paine undergone And if I should reapeâ—fruite from that I had sowne Yet reckon all my workes no worke of mine Hath brought any profit to me at any time And I doe wish since they no profit bring That they 〈◊〉 neveâ—â— to me harmefull beene Doe you wonder why I wriâ—e even so doe I And with you admite what good I finde thereby Or is the peoplâ—s opinion confirm'd by mâ— Who deny that Poâ—â—s in their 〈◊〉 be Since I so ost deceiv'd with a barren field Doe sow seed in a ground doth nothing yeeld Yet in his owne study every one takes plâ—asure And in his Art delights to spâ—nd his leasure The wounded Fencer that sweares he will not fight Forgets his wounds and in weapons doth delight The Ship wrackt man saies he the Seaâ— will shunne Yet straight doth saile where he before hath swoâ—e Thus in a fruitlâ—sse studyâ— doe labour I forsake the Muses and yet seeke their favour What shall I doe I cannot idle bee Time spent in idlenesse is like deâ—th to me In drinking too much wine I take no pleasure Or in throwing flattering dice to spend my leasure When I have given my body so much â—est As it requires so that it is refresht When I doe wake how shall I then bestow The time which seemeth to â—unne on so slow Shall I learne to bend accordiâ—g to their fashion The Sarmatian Bow forgetting my owne Nation I have not strength in that Art to goe on My minde is than my body farre more strong Considering what I should doe you shall see These unprofitable Arts are best for me By them misfortune out of mind I keepe It is enough if I this fruite doe reape Glory makes students that their verse recited May be approved and of all be liked It s enough for me easie verse to frame Since ther 's no cause to make me take more paine Why should I pollish my lines with great care That the Getes should not like them doe I feare Though it may boldnesse seeme yet boast I doe â—â—ster no better Wit than mine can shew And while I live here t is enough to gaine Among inhumane Getes a Poets naâ—e For Fame in another world should I strive Rome is the place doth fame and fortune give My poore muse with this Theâ—tâ—r is content So I have deserved so the gods are bâ—nt Nor doe I thinke my bookes can thither goe Where the Northwind can hardly come to blow Our climates different are for the cold Beare Which is farre from Rome to the Getes is neere Through many Lands and Seas I can't beleeve My studies should passe censure to receive â—f they were red and did please which is strange â—heir Authors sorrowes would not thereby change What availes it if thou in Syene please â—r Tabroband washt with Indian Seas â—f Countries neere the Pleiadesâ—hee praise Wilt thou goe on in hope thy fame to raise â—ince my best writings hardly thither come â—y famo with me was banished from Rome And now I doe conjecture and beleeve That to speake of my death you all doe leave Since unto you I then indeed was dead Men live not when their fame is buried ELEGIE VII To Graecinus WHen in a forraine Country thou heardst â—ad Of my misfortune was not thy heart sad Graecinus though thou fearest to confesse I know thou wert sad hearing my distresse Such hardnesse with thy ingenuitie And with thy studies doth no lesse agree By witty Arts in which thou tak'st delight The minde is softn'd rudenesse put to flight And none more studious of all Arts can be When the warres and occasions suffer thee Truely when I perceiv'd my owne sad case For I was senslesse long and in a maze Of this misfortune I had also sense That thou who shouldst have beene my strong defence Wer 't absent and my comfort gone with thee Who didst give courage and counsell to me Now though farre of some helpe to me impart Speake words of comfort to my grieved heart Which if you dare beleeve no lying friend By folly not by wickâ—dnesse did ofâ—end 'T were tedious and not safâ— for to touch heere My faults beginning which doth touching feare Aske me not how those wounds have first made beene Touch them not if that you would have them skinne It was no vice and yet a fault nere lesse Or are faults 'gainst the gods held wickednesse Therefore all hope hath not forsooke my mind I may at last Graecinus comfort finde This goddesse when the rest from earth were flowne Remained on the hated earth alone This makes the ditcher bound with fetters live And that his legges shall be free he doth beleeve This makes the Shipwrackt man begin to swim Then when no land at all by him is seene He that by the Physician hath beene left Yet of all hope of life is not bereâ—t The condemned prisoner hopes for life they say Some hanging on the Crosse for life doe pray This goddesse those would hang themselves doth stay Not sâ—ffering them to make themselves away When I to end my griefe with a sword thought Shee chid me and fast hold on me she caught What dost thou doe by â—eares not blood saith she The wrath of a Prince may appeased be Though no hope doth to my deserts belong In Caesars mercy still my hope is strong Intreate his favour Graecinus and joyne With me in this petition of mine And that thou dost move him I understand Else may I buried be in Tomâ—s sand For sooner shall the gentle Doves beginne To leave those Towers where they have lived in Wild beasts and Cattle and the quicke Dived apper Shall first leave their Dens the grasse and water Then Graecinus should forsake his old friend My fate will not such a misfortune send ELEGIE VIII To Messallnus THis Letter which you read friend Messâ—liâ—e Health from the cruell Getes to you doth bring Does not the mention of the place shew whom Was Authour of it and whence it doth come Or dost not know that Naso writ the same Vntill that you at length have read my name Which of
he would be And performe serious matters faithfully Those times with sorrow to remembrance come And I doe wish my life had then beene done When that my house whose ruine was not small Did suddainely upon my owne head fall Maximus he when that the most â—id leave me Was not my fortunes friend nor did deceive me At my living death I saw him weepe As if his brothers funerall he did keepe His love was in his kind embraces showne And with my teares he mingled his owne O how oft said he that life I did scorne And kept my hands from doing my selfe harme How oft said he the gods may pleased be Then live and thinke that they may pardon thee But these words were the best when he did say Thinke Maximus will helpe thee any way Maximus will endeavour and will try If he great Caesars wrath can mollifie And wish his brother if he at Court have grace To mediate some â—avour in thy case These words of his diminished the paine Of life then Maximus prove them not vaine And he swore he would come hither to me If you would give him leave and libertie For in like manner he did honour thee As thou dost reverence Caesars Majestie Beleeve me though you friends deserved many He was as worthy a friend as you had any If not wealth or the pedegree of name But wit and honesty doe merit fame Then let me weepe for Celsus who is dead And weepe backe those teares which on me shed Let me write Elegies may his life containe That posterity may reade of â—elsus name These from the Geteâ— I can send thee this time And this is all that I can here call mine I cann't embalme thy body nor yet be At thy hearse who am a world off from thee Mâ—ximus whom thou living didst adore Hath perform'd all those riâ—es for thee before He in a worthy funerall hath exprest His love and powr'd sweeâ—e odours on thy brest And with his teares the oyntments soft hath made And in some ground hard by thy bones hath laide Since to his dead friends he thus kind will be Amongst the dead he may too reckon me ELEGIE XI To Flaccus BAnished Ovid sends thee Flaccus health If one can send what he doth want himselfe For languishing and bitter cares at leâ—gth Have worne my body and decay'd my strength And yet I feele no paine nor panting Feaver My pulse doth beate as well as it did ever But yet my taste is dull I loath my meate And at due times I have no list to eaâ—e For if that Gaâ—imede should give to me Sweete â—ectar and Ambrosiâ— which be â—anquets for Gods to feede on and to drink Tâ—eir rellâ—sh could not please my tasâ—e I thinke Though theâ— are pleasant and most savoury Yet in my stomacke theâ— would heavy lye This truth to every one I dare nâ—t wâ—ite Least I should seem in misery to delight As if such were my fortunes and my staâ—e That I in wantonnesse delight could take May he take such delight who ere â—e be Who feares least Caesars wrath should milder be And that sleepe which doth a full body cherish Doth not at all the empty body nourish But as I wake my endlesse sorrowes wake And from the place fresh cause of griefe doe take So that my face by you could not be knowne And â—ou would wonder how my colours gone My slender limbes but little blâ—od containe And than new waxe I am more pale and wan Excessive drinking wine doth not cause this Water you know my common drinke here is I am not pleasd with bankers if I were Amongst the Getes there 's no such plenty here And Venus pleasures doe not weaken me Those desires vanish in adversity The place and water causers of it be And sorrow which is present still with me You and your brother still my helpers were Or else my mind could not her sorrowes beare You are the Port to which my Barke doth drive That helpe which somâ— deny unto me give Then helpe me still for I shall neede helpe sure While Caesars anger against me doth endure Humbly beseech your gods his minde to bend That so his wrath may lessen though not end OVID DE PONTO LIB. II. ELEGIE I. To Brutus THE fame of Caesars triumph hiâ—her stretches Whether the weary South scarsely reaches I thought no good news could to Scythia com I hate the place now lesse than I have done â—t length my cares being vanisht out of sight â—ike moving clouds I saw some glimpse of light â—o that my fortune I began to flatter â—eing glad to raise joy out of any matter â—hough Caesar would not these joyes should chance to me â—ou must grant he would have them common be the gods that all men with a cheerefull mind â—light worship them have festivals assign'd â—hat they might lay aside all griefe and sadnesse â—nstead thereof expressing holy gladnesse So I le enjoy this joy though he forbid Though it were madnesse to say that I did When love with fruitfull showers the â—ield doth water The Corne and Câ—ckle both grow by it aâ—ter And I like an 〈◊〉 weede have felt This showre of joy which did on mâ— too melt And did from Caesars powerfull deedes distill Whereby I am refresht against his will Thankes fame to thee by whose helpe I have seene This triumph â—â—ile I with the Getes have beene How infinite natioâ—s came of late to see Their Captaines face this Fame I learnt fâ—om thee Thou toldst me how that the Southwind did powre For many dayes together 〈◊〉 a showâ—e Yet on that day the Sunne did shine most cleerâ— The day rejoyâ—â—d and people that were there While that the Conquerour with a loud applause Warlicke gifts upon worthy men bestowes And before he his royall robes put on His offerings at the Altar first were done Sacrificing to his Parents with respâ—ct Iustice in him her Temple doth erect Where he vvent joy was in applauses shew'd And the streete blush'd with roses on them strew'd Then there were Pageantâ— brought all silver'd o're That represented Townes he tooke before With 〈…〉 being closd about And the beâ—eiged seemed to march out The Rivers Mountaines woods resembled were And their joyn'd battels were represented there And with their Sunburnt god as Trophy yeelded The Romane Marketplâ—ce was richly guilded And that sâ— many Captaines chained were By the necke which chiefely maintain'd the warre The most of which had life and pardon granted Being the chiefe that in those warres commanded Then may not Caesars wrath waxe milde towards me Who is so mercifull to his enemy And Fame Gerâ—anians brought the newes to me That all the Townes are yeelded unto thee Their wals munition nor their scituation Could not defend them against thy invasion Gods give thee yeares thy selfe the rest will give That so thy vertues may a long time live Thus I doe wish and Poets Prophets be The Gods my wishes seeme to ratifie And joyfull Rome on plumed
in debt to thee I speake it you by Law neede not force me Amongst your fathâ—rs riches left of late You may count me as part of your estâ—te For as Sicily is subject to your command And all that Country in which Philip raignd And as that house neere to Augâ—stus Court Is yours and all Campania in like sort And all those other Lands which left you were Sextus or by thy selfe since purchaste are So I am yours so that you must confesse That you in Pontus something doe possâ—sse And I wish â—ou may prevailing I may be Plac'd in a Country more friendly to me Which since t is in the gods power therefore try If thou by suite their wrath can'st pacifie For I cann't tell whether I should make thee My helper or apply my suite to thee I trust unto thy helpe yet those who goe With the streame to haste their course doe row I am asham'd one suite alwayes to moove Least it unto your mind should tedious proove What shall I doe desire doth know no end Then grant a pardon to my fault kind friend Oft I desir'd to write some other thing And fall to writing of the same agen My very Letters by themselves encreate And for my removall hence still suite doe make Whether I favour find or fates decree That I shall dye under the Axlettee I will still keepe thy love in memory And this Land shall know I belong to thee And other Nations situate whâ—refore If my Muse can passe the Getes shall it hearâ— ELEGIE XVI To the Envious ENvious man why dâ—st teare verses write By Ovid death can have no power on wit For after death there commeth greater fame And also while I liv'd I â—ad a name While Marsus and strong lin'd 〈◊〉 are Trosan Virgill Pedo shining like a starre And Câ— us that grâ—at â—uno might offend While he did Hercules her Sonne commend And â—everus that gave to 〈◊〉 Heroicke verse with Numa full of subtilty And then Montanus whose vaine did suffice To write Heroickes or else Elegies And by writing in both kindes didst obtaine Vnto thy selfe a twofold Fame and Name He that makes Vlysses write to Penelope When he had wandred ten yeares on the Sea And Heâ—iod that an imperfect worke writ Of dayes and dy'd ere he could finish it Largus whose wit to him his name did yeeld Who brings Aeueuâ— into the French field Or 〈◊〉 us who of Troy doth sing Which Hector did unto destruction bring Or 〈◊〉 scus who by his Pâ—yllis did gaine Much renowne and everlasting name And that Sea Poet whose Verses such seeme As if the Sea gods had composed them He that of Lihyâ— and Râ—mes battailes writ And 〈◊〉 for aâ—l kind of writing â—it He that Peâ—sâ—us actions did pâ—rfoâ—me And Lupuâ— who writ of Iasons returne And he that Hoâ—ers Phâ—acis did translate Rusus that Pindars vaine did imitate And Ture â—â—us who writ high Tragedies Meâ—ssus who pend mâ—rry 〈◊〉 Varus and 〈…〉 did write And Procuâ—us in smoother waies did 〈◊〉 And Tityrus an ancient Shepheard writ And shewd what weapons were for Hunters sit And Fontanus of the Naiodes did sing Who by the Satyâ—es have beloved beene And Capella who his words did also joyne And set together in uncquall line And there are others whose names to rehearse Would tedious be the people â—ath their verse And young men who since that which they did write Was not publisht I cannot them recite Cotta I can't passe o'â—e thee in silence The Light of the Muses the Courts defence The Cotta's and Messalla's give to thee By â—ny descent a double Nobility And though I say 't my Muse once had a name And it was read amongst these men of Fame Then Envy cease in exile to wound me Rake not my ashes abroad cruelly I have lost all onely my life is left To make me know of what I am bereft Why dost delight to thrust thy sword through him That can't be wounded more then he hath been Ovids Consolation to Livia for the death of her Sonne Drusus Nero who dyed in Germany THou that seem'st happy Neroes mother to be Now halfe that name is tooke away from theâ— Livia thou read'st verses made upon Thy Drusus deâ—th thou hast now but one Sonne Thy love is not extâ—nded to both them Nor ask'st when thy Sons are nam'd which they meane Then who is it to limit thy griefe dares Who is it can with words restraine thy teares Woes me when it happens so how easily Can all in others griefe speake valiantly So I might say light sorrowes have strooke thee That thou mightst stronger then thy sorrowes be Though Vertues young example did decease Lately who was both great in armes and peace The Alpes from the foe he did take away And next his brother in the warres bore sway The Suevian and Sicambrian by might He conquered and put Salvages to slâ—ght Rome unknowne Triumphs â—e deserv'd of thee For enlarging thy imperiall dignity And you his Mother of his death not knowing To pay your vowes to Iupiter were going And armed Pallas and to give Maâ—s 〈◊〉 Of gifts and those gods which we ought to adore For your thoughts with his triumpâ— busied were And for his Chariot you perhaps tooke care For a triumph you must keepe a Funeralâ— A â—oâ—be expects Dâ—usus no Capitoll To imagine him return'd thou tookst delight As if the Conquerour had beene in thy sight Thinking heele come and the people shall see Me gratulating of his victory Now I must bring my giftsâ— and offerings make Vnto the gods for my deare Drusus sake I shall meete him and rejoyce in his dignities And I shall kisse his necke his lips and eyes Thus hee le come thus meete me thus kisses joyne Thus hee le discourse thus I shall speake to him Thou nourishest great joâ—eâ— but 〈◊〉 lay by False hopes which flatter thee in misery Lâ—t thy imagination cease to relaâ—â— Happy newes to thy selfe of Drusus state The other branch of Caesars stocke is dead Let Livia let thy haire be loosened What doth thy veâ—tue profit or that thou hast Pleasd Caesar or liv'd all thy life time chast What avâ—iles thy inviolate chastity Which last amongst thy praises must reckon'd be And soâ—ring above vices in despight Of times didst alwayes keepe thy mind upright And that you hurt none though you powerfull were To hurt yet none of your power stood in feare In Campe or Court you usd no power vvhereby You might advance your house and Family Since that injurious Fortune by such wayes Doth raigne and her uncertaine wheele so swayeâ— And here her covetous cruelty doth appeare Who pretends that she hath right every where If Livia should alone from griefe be free Then Fortune could not have such soveraignety Did he not so behave himselfe that he Was never envy'd in Prosperity Besides Caesars house which from death is free Ought to be above humane misery He was fit a sacred watchman to have beene In safety to