O could I breathe the magic Muse's spell,
I'd aid thee, prince: the trabea suits thee well,
Not the base bastard, fruit of womb accurst,
And by hard teat of wolf inhuman nursed.

"If sons I bear thee, concubine or queen,
I bring thee Rome betrayed, no dowry mean.
At least the wrongs of Sabine maids repair;
Yes, ravish me-reprisal were but fair.

I too, like them, can part the bloody fray;
Come, brides, and peace shall crown my bridal-day.
Shout, Hymen, shout! the blare of trumpets drown!
My bridal-couch will calm war's billows down.·

"Now the fourth horn proclaims the dawn of day, The weary stars in ocean sink away;

Come slumber soft! come rosy dreams to-night!
Come Tatius, gentle spirit, glad my sight!"

She spake, and stretched her arms in fitful rest,
Nor dreamed she clasped new furies to her breast;
For Vesta, Ilium's fires' blest guardian, came,
Her frenzy nursed, and added flame to flame.
As Bacchant near Thermodon's rapid billow
Flies bosom-bare, she fled her restless pillow.

'Twas Rome's high festival, Parilia hight,
The birthday of her walls. Each shepherd-wight
Holds annual feast and revel in the streets,
While rustic dishes reek with dainty meats,
And tipsy crowds with grimy feet o'erleap
Straw fires a-blaze in many a scattered heap.

The watch was off on furlough for the day;
The camp was still; the trumpet silent lay.
It is Tarpeia's time: she meets the foe;
The compact binds; herself as guide will go.

Though steep the hill, the feast had left it clear:
The noisy dogs soon fall 'neath Tatius' spear.
All slumbered: Jove alone remained awake
To see just vengeance all her guilt o'ertake.
The gate betrayed, and friends that sleeping lay,
She asks him now to name the wedding-day.
But Tatius loathed the deed of guilt, and said,
"Wed now, my queen; here climb my royal bed."
O'er her crushed form his comrades' arms he threw-
Fit dower, O maiden! to thy treason due.

*

Thus came the hill to bear Tarpeia's name,
That never should have stained the scroll of fame.

* A duce Tarpeia mons est cognomen ademptus;
O vigil, injuste praemia sortis habes.

V.

ACANTHIS.

Terra tuum spinis obducat, lena, sepulcrum.

EARTH clothe thy tomb, foul hag, with thorns around, And may thy shade the thirst thou loathest bear, Thy Manes rest not, and the avenging hound

Thy mouldering bones with hungry growlings scare!

The chaste Hippolytus she could have bent,
And, bird of bale to every bridal bed,
Made e'en the leal Penelope relent,

Forget her lord, and lewd Antinöus wed.

At will she makes the steel the magnet fly,
The bird turn cruel and her nestlings kill;
At magic trench if Colline herbs she ply,

O'er solid ground will sweep the running rill.

She dared with song the moon by laws to bind,
To change her form and prowl in wolfish guise,
And gouged, the jealous husband's eyes to blind,
With ruthless nail the raven's guiltless eyes.

She leagued with owls to hunt me to my grave,
Gathered Hippomanes to crown my cares,
And thus she smoothed her work as gentle wave
The rocky road with ceaseless ripple wears:

Maiden, if bank of Orient charm your heart with golden

treasure,

And shells that gleam in splendour 'neath the waves of

Tyrian sea;

If robe of Cos where reigned Eurypylus afford thee pleasure, And shreds, from couch of Attalus, of ancient tapestry;

"Or costly vases sent by Thebes from Egypt's palmy river, Or myrrhine vessels baked in Parthian fires,—then honour

spurn,

Down trample all the gods of heaven, be falsehood upmost

ever,

And break the laws of chastity, that yield you no return.

Say you're a wife—it pays; invent all manner of excuses— The longer you put off, more fierce will burn your lover's

flame;

Or if your hair he chance to tear, his anger has its uses;

For when he'll try a truce to buy, more firmly press your claim.

"At last, when you have promised fair, and pocketed the plunder,

Pretend 'tis Isis' festival, and pure must be the day.

Let Iole for April plead, and pert Amycle thunder

66

Loud in your ears your birthday falls upon the Ides of May.

Suppose he's sitting at your feet, sit down and write a letter, Or anything you've caught him if the trick should him dis

may;

Have love-bites all around your neck-and, mind, the more

the better

And let him think you've got them in a recent love-affray.

"Don't follow in Medea's steps, or to his wishes pander; She earned disdain when fond and fain she threw her heart

away.

But rather be like costly Thais, sung by smart Menander, The pretty girl who tricked the cunning Getae in the play.

'Study the humour of your man: if he is fond of singing, Indulge him; drain your cup, and forth your mingled voices pour;

For donors let the warder watch, to those no presents bring

ing

Let him be deaf and slumber on against the bolted door.

"With soldier, though not made for love, pray never feel offended,
Or sailor with his horny palm, if he's the golden key;
Or him from whose barbarian neck a label once depended,
When, chalked, he through the Forum stalked condemned

to slavery.

"Look to the gold, and not the hand that brings to you the payment;

What boots a starving poet's strain?—vain words are all your hire.

Avaunt the bard who cannot clothe his girl in Cöan raiment ! Without your fee, be deaf to all the music of his lyre.

"While warm your blood, and wrinkles tell not yet of years of sorrow,

Live while you may; what's yours to-day to-morrow may not last:

I've seen sweet Paestum's rose-bowers blooming fair, and on

the morrow

The petals, strown and withered, blown before the south wind's blast."