HEROIDES. I. Penelope Ulixi · II. Phyllis Demophoonti · III. Briseis Achilli · IV. Phaedra Hippolyto · V. Oenone Paridi · VI. Hypsipyle Iasoni · VII. Dido Aeneae · VIII. Ovid’s Heroides and Tristia: Voices from Exile – Volume 26 Issue 1 – P.A. ‘ Ovidio diventa un “personaggio” della propria poesia come le. Donor challenge: Your generous donation will be matched 2-to-1 right now. Your $5 becomes $15! Dear Internet Archive Supporter,. I ask only.
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Penelope to Ulysses 2.
Phyllis to Demophoon 3. Briseis to Achilles 4. Phaedra to Hippolytus 5. Hypsipyle to Jason 7. Dido to Aeneas 8. Hermione to Orestes 9. Deianira to Hercules Canace to Macareus Medea to Jason Laodamia to Protesilaus Hypermnestra to Lynceus Paris to Helen Helen to Paris Hero to Leander Acontius to Cydippe I should indeed prefer to keep it hid, until the time came when my joy could be unmixed with fears, but I can ill disguise; for who could conceal a fire that ever betrays itself by its own light?
If, none the less, you look for me to add word to fact — I am on fire with love! There you have the words that bring the message of my heart. Pardon, I entreat, my having confessed, and do not read the rest with face that is hard, but with one that suits your beauty.
What the mother of Love, who persuaded me to this journey, has fixed upon, I deeply hope may be, and that she has not promised you to me in vain; for at divine behest — lest you sin unawares — I sail hither, and no slight godhead favours my undertaking.
The prize I seek indeed is great, but I ask naught that is not my due; you have been promised for my marriage-chamber by her of Cythera. With her for pilot, from the Sigean strand I have sailed in Phereclean stern the dubious paths of the far-stretching flood. It is she who has given me gentle breezes and favouring wind — of a surety she has dominion over the sea, for she rose from the sea. It is that which was the cause of so long a voyage, for neither gloomy storm has driven me hither, nor a wandering course; Taenaris is the land toward which my ships were steered.
Nor think I cleave the seas with a keel that carries merchandise — what goods I have, may the gods only keep for me! Nor am I come as one to see the sights of Grecian towns — the cities of my own realm are wealthier. I beheld your features with my soul ere I saw them with my eyes; rumour, that told me of you, was the first to deal my wound.
Thus have the fates decreed; and lest you try to say them nay, listen to words told faithfully and true.
It seemed to her in the vision of a dream that she put forth from her full heroidex a mighty flaming torch.
In terror she rose up, and told the dread vision of opaque night to ancient Priam; he told it to ovdo seers. One of the seers sang that Ilion would burn with the fire of Paris — that was the torch of my heart, as now has come to pass! There is a place in the woody vales of midmost Ida, far from trodden paths and covered over with pine and ilex, where never grazes the placid sheep, nor the she-goat that loves the cliff, nor the wide-mouthed, slowly-moving kine.
From there, reclining against a tree, I was looking forth upon the walls and lofty roofs of the Dardanian city, and upon the sea, when lo! And at the self-same time, three goddesses — Venus, and Pallas, and with her Juno — set tender feet upon the sward. Of winning all were worthy, and I who was to judge lamented that not all could win. But, none the less, already then one of them pleased me more, and you might know it was she by whom love is inspired. Great is their desire to win; ovxio burn hsroides sway my verdict with wondrous gifts.
The son, after long time, is taken back to his home, the house is glad, and Herpides adds this heroives, too, to its festivals. And not only have the daughters of princes and chieftains sought me, but even the nymphs have felt for me the cares of love. But I am weary of all of them, Tyndaris, since hope was made mine of winning you. It ovsio you that filled my vision as I waked, and you my soul saw in the night, when eyes lie overcome in peaceful slumber. What will you be ovvdio to face, you who won me yet unseen?
I was fired with love, though here, far away, was the flame. I could not longer cheat myself of the hope of you, but started on the dark blue path to seek the object of my vows. We add the yards, and the sails that hang to the mast; the hook-shaped stern, too, receives its painted gods; on the one which carries me stands painted — and, with her, tiny Cupid — the goddess who is sponsor for your wedding me.
After the last hand has been laid to the ships, and all is complete, forthwith I am eager to sail the Aegean main — but my father and lady mother hold me back from my purpose with their prayers, and with fond words delay the journey I propose.
My sister Cassandra, too, all as she was, with hair let loose, when my vessels were eager now to spread the sail, cried out: Thou wilt bring conflagration back with thee! How great the heroidds thou seekest over these waters, thou dost not know!
Your lord receives me as befits a guest — this, too, an act not without the counsel and approval heroises the gods!
Heroides by Ovid
He showed me, of course, whatever in all Lacedaemon was worthy herodies be shown and sightly to be seen; but I was eager to behold your much-praised charms, and there was nothing else by which my eyes could be held. When I did look on them, I was astonished mute, and felt new cares swelling big in my inmost breast.
If you had come to that contest together with her, the palm of Venus would have come in doubt! Fame has indeed made great heralding of you, and there is no land that knows not of your ovdi no other among fair women has a name like yours — nowhere in Phrygia, nor from the rising of heroives sun! His stealing you away, I commend; my marvel is that he ever gave you back. So fine a spoil should have been kept with constancy.
Sooner would this head have left my bloody neck that you have been dragged from marriage-chamber of mine. One like you, would ever these hands of mine be willing to let go?
One like you, would I, alive, allow to leave my embrace? If you must needs have been rendered up, I should first at least have taken heroidez pledge from you; my love for you would not have been wholly for naught. Either your virgin flower I should have plucked, or taken what could be stolen without hurt to your virgin state. I have placed you before the kingdoms which greatest Juno, bride and sister of Jove, once ovdik me; so I could only clasp my arms about your neck, I have held but cheap the prowess that Pallas would bestow.
And I have no regret, nor shall I ever seem in my own eyes to have made a foolish choice; my mind is fixed and persists in its desire. I only pray, O worthy to be sought with such great toils! I am no seeker after marriage ties with the nobly born, while myself of lowly line, nor will you find it disgrace, believe me, to be my wife.
A Pleiad, 3 if you will search, you will find in our line, and a Jove, to say naught of our ancestry since their time; my father wields the sceptre over Asia, land than which none other has more wealth, with bounds immense, scarce to be traversed.
Unnumbered cities and golden dwellings you will see and temples you would say fit well their gods. Scarce does that land sustain the dwellers in it. In dense line the Trojan women will press forward to meet you, and our palace halls will scarce contain the daughters of Phrygia. Ah, how often will you say: But a niggard land is Sparta, and you deserve keeping in wealth; with fairness such as yours this place is not in accord. Beauty heroives yours it befits to enjoy heroises adornment without end, and to wanton in ever new delights.
When you look on the garb of the men of our race, what garb, think you, must be that of the daughters of Dardanus? Only be compliant, and do not disdain a Phrygian for your lord, you who were born in ogdio Therapnae. A Phrygian, and born of our blood, was he who now is with the gods, and mingles water with the nectar for their drinking. Nor do I think that Menelaus, when you compare our beauty and our years, will find higher place in your esteem than I. Throughout whole nights that unworthy husband possesses you, enjoying your embrace; but I — I oveio on you only when at last the board is laid, and even this heroiides brings many beroides that pain.
May our enemies have such repasts as often I endure when the wine has been set before us! I regret my being a guest, when before my eyes that rustic lays his arms about your neck.
I burst with anger and envy — for why should I not tell everything?
But when you openly give him tender kisses, I take up my goblet and hold it before my eyes; when he holds you closely pressed, I let my gaze fall, and the dull food grows big within my unwilling mouth. Many a time I have let forth groans; and you — ah, mischief that you are!
Oft I would have quenched the flame of love in wine, but it grew instead, and drinking was but fire upon the fire. That I may miss the sight of much, I recline with head turned from you; but you yourself straightway recall my eyes again. In whatever way I am allowed and have the power, I struggle to conceal my heroide but none the less the love I cover up appears. And I am not deceiving you; you are aware what wounds are mine — you are aware!
And would that they were known to you alone! Ah, how often at the coming of my tears I have turned away my face, lest that man should ask the heroldes why I wept! Ah, how often, when in wine, I have told the tale of some amour, ovdko straight to your face each single word, and have given you hint of myself under the made-up name!
I was the real lover — if you do not know. Nay, indeed, that I might be able to use more froward speech, not once alone have I feigned I was in wine. While I sat in ecstasy at the sight — I changed to have my goblet in hand — the twisted handle fell from my fingers. If you had bestowed kisses on your child Hermione, I forthwith snatched them with joy from her tender lips.
And now I would sing of old amours, lying careless on my back; and again I would nod, making signs I should have kept hid. The ovsio of your companions, Clymene and Aethra, I lately ventured to approach with flattering words; who said naught else than that they were afraid, and left me in the midst of my entreaties.
My daring would have boldly made its way in the face of conditions such as these, and you would know well how to be the object of my toils. Now nothing is left me but to entreat you, beauteous one, and to embrace your feet, so you suffer it. O honour, O present glory of the twin brethren, O worthy of Jove to husband were you not the child of Jove — either I shall return to the haven of Sigeum with you as my bride, or here, an exile, be covered with Taenarian earth!