Briseis to Achilles. Ariadne to Theseus, 11. 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! Nebrophonus and Euneus, according to Apollodorus; according to Hyginus, Euneus and Deiphilus. (O__O ") o(>_<)o nuuuu! Ovid has the fourth book of the Aeneid in mind as he composes this letter. Thou, Meleager, shalt also see in me a sister of thine own!  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. (Augustus found his rebellious daughter had Ovid's latest book.) Accipe, Dardanide, moriturae carmen Elissae; quae legis a nobis ultima verba legi. If noble blood and generous lineage move you – lo, I am known as daughter of Minoan Thoas! Now, I ponder over not only what I am doomed to suffer, but all that any woman left behind can suffer. Is this the entombment due to me for my kindnesses? 5. Iole. You furnish forth my death at a cost but slight. 3. What is achieved, you turn you back upon; what is to be achieved, you ever pursue. 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. You, too have ancestors – Pelops, and the father of Pelops; should you care to count more closely, you could call yourself fifth from Jove.4. Gordan MS 7 Italy, s. XV 2. The love he allowed himself, he will concede to his daughter’s chosen; my mother, loved by him, will aid with her precedent. To her passes the full measure of your exploits – yield up what you possess; your mistress is heir to your praise. Fear struck away my sleep; in terror I arose, and threw myself headlong from my abandoned bed. Frater is often so used. I drew back my hands, a second time I made essay, and o’er the whole couch moved my arms – he was not there! Trying out a poll question – what animal would you be? Hermione to Orestes 9. 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!”. O that you too were changeable with the winds! Publication date 1914 Publisher London : W. Heinemann; New York, Macmillan Collection cdl; americana Hercules was the lover of Omphale, or Iardanis (v. 103), queen of Lydia, sold to her by Hermes as a slave. The one was but a part of the soldier band; the other was chief of chiefs. I write, and the Trojan’s blade is ready in my lap. When was Ovid born? "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). 14. Heroides VII by Ovid POP QUIZ! Add thereto pure-hearted prayers, and vows mingled with fears – vows which I must now fulfil, since you are safe. Hypermnestra to Lynceus  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!  1 I render thanks that Oechalia has been added to the list of our honours; but that the victor has yielded to the vanquished, I complain.  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. P. OVIDIVS NASO (43 B.C. EPISTLES 1 - 5. 1. Here twice the summer fled for you, here twice the winter.  O, that Androgeos were still alive, and that thou, O Cecropian land, hadst not been made to atone for thy impious deeds with the doom of thy children!2 and would that thy upraised right hand, O Theseus, had not slain with knotty club him that was man in part, and in part bull; and I had not given thee the thread to show the way of thy return – thread oft caught up again and passed through the hands led on by it. 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? 1r-69v [Title:] publii ouidii nasonis epistolarum erodium liber primus penelope ulissi Inc: Hanc tua penelope lento tibi mitit ulixe./ Nil me rescribas at tamen ipse ueni. And now you had been swept beyond my vision. For the grid of relationships between VIGOR and VIRGO, see Maltby, R., A lexicon of ancient Latin etymologies (Leeds 1991) s.vv. – and Hyllus, thou my son, farewell to thee!  Would that Peleus’ son had escaped the bow of Apollo!8 The father would condemn the son for his wanton deed; ‘twas not of yore the pleasure of Achilles, nor would it be now his pleasure, to see a widowed husband weeping for his stolen wife. There rush into my thought a thousand forms of perishing, and death holds less of dole for me than the delay of death. Phaedra to Hippolytus 5. Of rocks and mountains were you begotten, and of the oak sprung from the lofty cliff, of savage wild beasts, or of the sea – such a sea as even now you look upon, tossed by the winds, on which you are none the less making ready to sail, despite the threatening floods. Alas me! Helen to Paris  A woman like this can you embrace? Straight then my palms resounded upon my breasts, and I tore my hair, all disarrayed as it was from sleep. You, too, were cruel, O winds, and all too well prepared, and you breezes, eager to start my tears. Sappho to Phaon, 16. I climb its slope – my spirit gave me strength – and thus with prospect broad I scan the billowy deep. As for myself, tearing my locks, not yet long, I began to cry aloud: “Mother, will you go away, and will you leave me behind?” For her lord was gone. Soon the winds will fall, and o’er the smooth-spread waves will Triton course with cerulean steeds.  Me, too, you have possessed among your many loves – but me with no reproach. I lack not one to take my part!”1 I cried. FINIS What changed in the tone/attitude in Heroides? The letter you read comes from Briseis, a captive: its Greek, hardly written well by … ‘Twas the daughters of Argolis I feared – yet my ruin has been a barbarian jade! 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. – your father placed them in your hand. The tempest rises to stay you. Grant I do glide with fortunate keel over peaceful seas, that Aeolus tempers the winds – I still shall be an exile! Yon is the place that exacts the penalty for faithlessness, above all when ‘tis love has been wronged; for ‘twas from the sea, in Cytherean waters, so runs the tale, that the mother of the Loves, undraped, arose. Or, better had I been weighed down once for all by everlasting night. Look upon my locks, let loose like those of one in grief for the dead, and on my robes, heavy with tears as if with rain. ‘Twas Medea I feared. The home of Achilles. Then at last I let flow my tears; till then my tender eyeballs had been dulled with pain.  But why complain that my lord has been slow in his duty? Is a victim to fall beneath the stroke for the loss that has come to me? Do you only, by your mother I pray, and by the weapons of your brother, his arrows, and by the divine companions of your flight, the gods of Dardanus – so may those rise above fate whom savage Mars has saved from out your race, so may that cruel war be the last of misfortunes to you, and so may Ascanius fill happily out his years, and the bones of old Anchises rest in peace! – and, unless in hardness you exceed the oak, you will be so. Are my bones to lie unburied, the prey of hovering birds of the shore?  Gentler than you I have found every race of wild beasts; to none of them could I so ill have trusted as to you. These only I still have, and still do I let them gush; my cheeks are wet and unsightly from their neverending found. 9. Loeb, Cambridge, 1947 [PA6156.082 1979x]. Apollo directed the arrow of Paris which wounded Achilles in the heel, his only vulnerable part. 2. Who will deliver his fields to unknown hands to keep?  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? Perchance the island harbours the savage tiger as well. 1. Two Editiones Principes of Ovid appeared in 1471—one at Rome and one at Bologna, with independent texts. ‘vir’, ‘virago’, ‘virgo’, ‘virtus’, ‘vis’. Entrust me with the watching of the skies; you shall go later, and I myself, though you desire it, will not let you to stay. 10. You have not shrunk from binding your shaggy hair with a woman’s turban! I shall think myself treated with all indulgence, so I remain yours. What could you worse, if you did not know of the power of raging seas? Built at the instigation of Athena. FROM THE HAND OF DIDO HERSELF CAME THE STROKE BY WHICH SHE FELL. ‘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. 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. It is neither by her beauty nor by her merits that she wins you, but by the incantations she knows and the baneful herbs she cuts with enchanted knife. 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? and told of the deeds of which you should now say naught – of enormous serpents, throttled and coiling their lengths about your infant hand; how the Tegeaean boar has his lair on cypress-bearing Erymanthus, and afflicts the ground with his vast weight.  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. Hypsipyle to Jason 7. I land on shores unknown; escaped from my brother and the sea, I purchase the strand that I gave, perfidious man, to you. This unlucky child will join in his mother's death, and you will be responsible for the death of … My husband fell in his blood before the altars in his very house, and my brother possesses the fruits of the monstrous crime; myself am driven into exile, compelled to leave behind the ashes of my lord and the land of my birth. That his mother was divine and his aged father the burden of a loyal son gave hope he would remain my faithful husband.  We both live, Theseus, and I am not yours! 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. Do you not shrink, Alcides, from laying to the polished wool-basket the hand that triumphed over a thousand toils; do you draw off with stalwart thumb the coarsely spun strands, and give back to the hand of a pretty mistress the just portion she weighed out? O live; I pray it! 1. Omphale. You shall rather be reputed the cause of my own doom. 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! Dido Aeneae. Again I ask if Jason lives; hope and fear bring trust and mistrust by turns. 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. On every side the land is girt by sea; nowhere a sailor, no craft to make its way over the dubious paths. and when your wife is stolen away will you be slow to move? Only now from Haemonian borders came a Thessalian stranger to my gates. The story of Leda and the swan. Lemnos will be my marriage portion, land kindly-natured to the husbandman; and me, too, you will possess among the subjects my dowry brings. 7.  Well do I know the seas that break upon African shores; they have their times of granting and denying the way. 7. Ovid is entirely coherent in depicting this symmetrical model of giving in his Heroides 7 … You add to it your stranger loves, and whoever will may be by you a mother.  Ah, I could pray the gods that you had seen me from the high stern; my sad figure had moved your heart! Grant Showerman. As Federica Bessone and Gregson Davis have recently noted, however, Ovid here responds to Horace’s representation of Sappho in Odes 2.13. 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! I myself, at home and widowed, am busied with chaste prayers, in torment lest my husband fall by the savage foe; with serpents and with boars and ravening lions my imaginings are full, and with hounds three-throated hard upon the prey. – the penalty due Sychaeus.4 To absolve it now I go – ah me, wretched that I am, and overcome with shame! Felt you no shame to bind with gold those strong arms, and to set the gem upon that solid brawn? Perhaps you will even drive away Aetolian Deianira, and her rival will lay aside the name of mistress, and be made your wife. Table of Contents. And for you to disgrace yourself by wearing the Maeonian zone, like a wanton girl – feel you no shame for that?