T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
From Elegies: Book II. Elegia V.
By Ovid (43 B.C.18 A.D.)(Translated by Christopher Marlowe) Ad amicam curruptam. NO love is so dear,—quivered Cupid fly!— | |
That my chief wish should be so oft to die. | |
Minding thy fault, with death I wish to revel; | |
Alas! a wench is a perpetual evil. | |
No intercepted lines thy deeds display, | 5 |
No gifts given secretly thy crime bewray. | |
O would my proofs as vain might be withstood! | |
Ah me, poor soul, why is my cause so good? | |
He’s happy, that his love dares boldly credit; | |
To whom his wench can say, “I never did it.” | 10 |
He’s cruel, and too much his grief doth favour, | |
That seeks the conquest by her loose behaviour. | |
Poor wretch, I saw when thou didst think I slumbered; | |
Not drunk, your faults on the spilt wine I numbered. | |
I saw your nodding eyebrows much to speak, | 15 |
Even from your cheeks, part of a voice did break. | |
Not silent were thine eyes, the board with wine | |
Was scribbled, and thy fingers writ a line. | |
I knew your speech (what do not lovers see?) | |
And words that seemed for certain marks to be. | 20 |
Not many guests were gone, the feast being done, | |
The youthful sort to divers pastimes run. | |
I saw you then unlawful kisses join; | |
(Such with my tongue it likes me to purloin); | |
None such the sister gives her brother grave, | 25 |
But such kind wenches let their lovers have. | |
Phœbus gave not Diana such, ’tis thought, | |
But Venus often to her Mars such brought. | |
“What dost?” I cried; “transport’st thou my delight? | |
My lordly hands I’ll throw upon my right. | 30 |
Such bliss is only common to us two, | |
In this sweet good why hath a third to do?” | |
This, and what grief enforced me say, I said: | |
A scarlet blush her guilty face arrayed; | |
Even such as by Aurora hath the sky, | 35 |
Or maids that their betrothèd husbands spy; | |
Such as a rose mixed with a lily breeds, | |
Or when the moon travails with charmèd steeds. | |
Or such as, lest long years should turn the dye, | |
Arachne stains Assyrian ivory. | 40 |
To these, or some of these, like was her colour: | |
By chance her beauty never shinèd fuller. | |
She viewed the earth; the earth to view, beseemed her, | |
She lookèd sad; sad, comely I esteemed her. | |
Even kembèd as they were, her locks to rend, | 45 |
And scratch her fair soft cheeks I did intend. | |
Seeing her face, mine upreared arms descended, | |
With her own armour was my wench defended. | |
I, that erewhile was fierce, now humbly sue, | |
Lest with worse kisses she should me endue. | 50 |
She laughed, and kissed so sweetly as might make | |
Wrath-kindled Jove away his thunder shake. | |
I grieve lest others should such good perceive, | |
And wish hereby them all unknown to leave. | |
Also much better were they than I tell, | 55 |
And ever seemed as some new sweet befell. | |
’Tis ill they pleased so much, for in my lips | |
Lay her whole tongue hid, mine in hers she dips. | |
This grieves me not; no joinèd kisses spent, | |
Bewail I only, though I them lament. | 60 |
Nowhere can they be taught but in the bed; | |
I know no master of so great hire sped. | |