Quaeritis, unde avidis nox sit pretiosa puellis.
You ask why vice has so expensive grown,
And coffers drained by lust their loss bemoan?
The reason's clear and certain as can be-
The path to luxury is far too free.
The Indian ant sends gold from hollow mine,
The Eastern Ocean pearls of rarest shine;
Cadmean Tyre her purple dyes; the son
Of Araby sweet-scented cinnamon;
Such arms by storm take e'en the spotless bride
And wives, Penelope, with all thy pride.
In spendthrifts' fortunes clad, proud walks the dame,
And to our face parades the spoils of shame.
Ask all-give all-for scruple now there's none;
She's shy-bid higher, and the maiden's won.
Blest is your funeral rite, ye Eastern swains!
Whom with her steeds the ruddy Morn ingrains;
For when above your bier the death-fires gleam,
Round crowd your loving wives with locks a-stream,
Strive which shall first their husbands' footsteps trace,
And deem refusal bitterest disgrace.
The favoured seek the flames with dauntless breast,
And die, their scorched lips to their husbands' prest.
* Quaeque gerunt fastus, Icarioti, tuos.
Here wives are faithless; here we never prove
Evadne's truth, Penelopea's love.
O happy were the peaceful swains of yore,
Whose only wealth the fields and orchards bore;
Their gifts were quinces shaken from the trees,
And baskets filled with luscious blackberries;
Posies of violets with white lilies blent,
In wicker-baskets to their girls they sent;
Grape-clusters wrapt in leaves 'mong which they grew,
Or speckled bird with plumes of changing hue;
For which the woodland suitor freely got
The fair one's kisses in some hidden grot.
Then lovers clothed their forms in skins of fawn,
And slept on Nature's couch-the grassy lawn ;
'Neath waving pine-trees found an ample shade,
And, free from harm, the robeless nymph surveyed.
Back to the Idaean shepherd's empty shed
The well-grazed flock the ram spontaneous led,
And all the rural gods and goddesses
Cheered smiling hearths with happy words like these:
"Whoe'er thou art, come, hunt the hare, O swain !
And shouldst thou seek for bird in my domain,
Call Pan to join thee from the rocks around,
Whether the sport be with the rod or hound."
Now groves and shrines are visited by none,
All worship gold since Piety is gone:
Honour, right, law, are bartered now for gold,
And soon will decency itself be sold.
See Pythian Phoebus' threshold lightning-brent
When Brennus sought his shrine on pillage bent !
Shook Mount Parnassus with its laurel crown,
And direful hailstones on the Gauls showered down.
The guilty Thracian Polymnestor nursed
And slew young Polydore for gold accursed;
Thy golden bracelets, Eriphyla, too,
Amphiaräus with his horses slew.
I'll prophesy: O be my boding vain !
By pride and wealth my country-Rome is slain.
I speak the truth: none heed-'twas so of old
With her who Ilium's woes too well foretold;
Alone she said that Paris would destroy
The realm of Phrygia, and the fir-horse, Troy.
Her frenzy might have saved her home and sire;
In vain did Heaven her prescient tongue inspire.
Multa tuae, Sparte, miramur jura palaestrae.
SPARTA, we thy Palaestra's laws admire,
But more thy female training-schools we prize, Where maidens, thinly clad, in games aspire
To cope with youths in blameless exercise.
There the fleet ball eludes the deftest hands;
Rings on the wire the hoop fast whirling round; At the far goal the dust-grimed maiden stands, And bears hard hits within the boxing-ground.
The cestus to her eager arms she straps,
Now twirls the quoit, now treads the equestrian's realm, Girds on her snow-white side her sword, and caps
Her virgin head with hollow brazen helm.
Bathes as the Amazons with bosom bare--
A warrior band—bathe in Thermodon's flood; Now climbs Täygetus with rime-sprent hair, Scouring the hills with hounds of native blood.
Bears, as on fair Eurotas' sands of yore
With the young boxer-twin and twin-born knight
Helen with naked breast the combat bore,
Nor blushed in her immortal brothers' sight.
Hence Spartan law forbids clandestine love;
Each in the streets may seek his darling's side.
No fears no warder stern to disapprove,
No churlish husband's dreaded wrath to bide.
No need of aid: thy suit in person ply ;
No scorn repays thy weary waiting there; No Tyrian vestments cheat the roving eye;
No perfumed tresses trimmed with toilsome care.
While here with crowds so great our maidens walk,
One cannot turn a finger for the throng;
He knows not how to look or how to talk :
A darksome way the lover walks along.
But if, O Rome! thou too shouldst imitate
The Spartan contests and the Spartan laws,
How I would bless thee, and with heart elate
Esteem thee dearer for that very cause!
TO CYNTHIA, CONCERNING LYCINNA.
Sic ego non ullos jam norim in amore tumultus.
So from love's crosses let me now be free,
Nor spend the sleepless night away from thee:
When with my boyish dress went boyish shame,
And liberty to tread love's pathway came,
Lycinna, true, versed in the tender art,
Unbribed, first schooled my all-untutored heart.
But now, in nigh three years, my winsome Venus,
I scarce remember of ten words between us-
Thy love has buried all; nor, in thy reign,
Hath e'er my heart felt charmer's silken chain.
Think, too, of Dirce's bitter jealousy
Of Lycus' former love Antiope—
How oft the queen her beauteous tresses tore,
And ploughed her tender cheeks with scratches o'er !
Opprest the girl with grievous tasks, ah me!
And bade the rugged ground her pillow be;
Left her to pine in loathsome gloom, nor gave
A cup of water to her famished slave!
"Jove, wilt thou ne'er relieve my woes?" she cried : “My hands with galling manacles are tied;
* Ah quotiens pulcros vulsit regina capillos.—(Kuinoel.) - Vulsit is the conjecture of Heinsius. Most editors read ussit.
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