Ovid's heroical epistles Englished by W.S.

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The Argument of the first Epistle.

HEcuba Daughter to Cisseus, and wise to Priam being with child, dreamt that she was delivered of a flaming Fire-brand, that let all T••oy on fire. Priam troubled in mind, consults With the Oracle, receives answer, that his son should be the destruction of his Country, and therefore as soon as he was born, commands his death. But his Mother Hecuba sends her son Paris secretly to the Kings shep∣herds. They-keep him, till being grown a Young man, he fancied

the Nymph Oenone, and marryed her. But when Ju••o, Pallas, and Venus contended about the golden Apple, which had this inscription, DETUR PULCHRIORI, Let it be given to the fairest▪ Jupiter made Paris their Judge. To whom Juno promised a Kingdom, Pallas Wisdom, Venus Pleasure, and the fairest of Women; but he gave sentence for Venus. Afterward being known by his Father, and received into favour, he failed to Sparta, whence he took ••elen wife to Menelaus, and brought her to Troy. Oenone hearing thereof, com∣plains in this Epistle of his unfaithfulness; perswading him to feud back Helen to Greece, and receive her again.

OENONE to PARIS.

UNto my Paris, for though thou art not mine, Thou art my Paris, because I am thine, A Nymph doth send from the Idaean Hill These following words, which do this paper ••ill. Read it, if that thy new wife will permit, My letter is not in a strange hand writ. Oenone through the Phrygian woods well known, Complains of wrong, that thou to her hast done, What god hath us'd his power to cross our love? What fault of mine hath made thee faithless prove? With deserv'd sufferings I could be content; But not with undeserved punishment. What I deserve, most patient I could bear, But undeserv'd punishments heavy are. Thou wert not then of such great dignity, When a young Nymph did first marry thee; Though now forsooth, thou Priam's son art prov'd, Thou wert a servant first, when first we lov'd: And while our sheep did graze, we both have laid Under some tree together in the shade; Whose boughs like a green Canopie were spred, While the soft grass did yeild us a green bed: And when the dew did fall, we often lay In a poor Cottage, upon straw or hay.

I shew'd thee both, what Lawns and Forrests were Likely to yeild much store of game, and where The wilde beasts did in secret caves abide, And their young ones in the hollow Rocks did hide. To set thy Toyles with thee I oft have gone, After the Hounds I o're the hills have run. My name on every Beech-tree I do finde. Thou hadst engrav'd Oenone on their rinde, And as the body of the tree doth, so The letters of my name do greater grow. Close by a River (I remember it) These lines are on an Alder fairly writ; And may the Alder flourish still and spread, Because these lines may on the bark be read; When Paris doth to Oenone false become, Xanthus unto his spring doth backward run, Xanthus run back, thy course now backward take, For Paris doth his Oenone forsake. That day did unto me most fatal prove; That day began the winter of thy love, When Venus, Iuno, and fair Pallas came Naked before thee, and did not disdain To chuse thee for their Judge, when thou had'st told The story to me, my faint heart grew cold, Of the experienc'd I did counsel take, They did resolve me, thou wouldst me forsake. For thou didst build new ships without delay, And didst send forth a Fleet to sea straightway. Yet thou didst weep at thy departure hence; Do not deny it, it was no offence: For by my love thy credit is not stain'd, But of loving Helen thou mayst be asham'd, Thou wept'st, and also at that very time Thou saw'st me weep, my tears dropping with thine.

And as the Vine about the Elme doth winde, So thy arms were about my neck entwinde. When thou complaind'st because the winds cross were, The Sailers laught, because the wind stood fair. Thou didst kiss me oft, when thou didst depart, And thou wert loth to say, Farewel, Sweet-heart▪ At last, a gentle gale of wind did blow, So that thy ship from land did slowly go. I looking after thee, long time did stand Weeping, and shedding tears on the dry sand. And to the green Nereides I did pray, Thy voyage might be speedy without stay: For me it was too speedy, since that I Sustain the loss of thy false love thereby. To Thessaly my Prayers have brought thee safe, And for a Whore my prayer prevailed hath. There is a Mountain that to sea doth look, Which beating of the foaming waves can brook: From hence when I beheld thy ship was coming▪ Into the sea I presently was running; But standing still, at length I might discern A purple flag, which waved on the stern; Then whether it were thy ship I did doubt, Because such colours thou didst not put out. But when thy ship to shoar did neerer stand, And a fair gale did bring it close to land, A womans face I straightway did behold, Which made my heart to tremble, and wax cold. And while I stood doating there, I might espie Thy sweet heart, that did on thy bosome lie. O then I wept, my breast I strook, and beat And tore my cheeks▪ that with my tears were wet; Filling the Mountain Ida with my cries; And there I did bewail my miseries.

May ••elena at last so weep, so grieve, When thou dost falsly her forsake and leave: And may she that this wrong to me doth offer, Be wrong'd in the like kind, and like wrong suffer. When thou wert poor, and led'st a Shepheards life, None but Oenone was thy loving wife. Tis not thy wealth, nor state that I admire; Nor to be Priams daughter do I desire. Yet Priam, nor his Hecuba, need disdain Me for their daughter since I worthy am. I am fit to be a Princess, to command, A royal Scepter would become my hand, Despise me not, because that I with thee Have lain under some shady Beechen-tree. For I am fitter for thy Royal bed, When it with purple Quilts is covered. Lastly, my love is safest, since for me No wars shall follow, nor no Fleet shall be Sent forth; but if thou Helena do take, She shall by force of arms be fetched back. Blood is the portion which thou shalt obtain, If thou dost marry with this stately Dame. Ask Hector and Deiphobus, if she Should not unto the Greeks restored be; Ask Priam, and Antenor wise and grave, Who by their age much deep experience have, For to performe a beauteous rape before Thy Country, must be bad and base all o're; Since to defend a bad cause is a shame, Her Husband shall just wars 'gainst thee maintain, Nor think that Helena faithful will become, Who was so quickly woo'd, so quickly won. As Menelaus grieves, because that she Hath with a stranger, by adultery

Wrong'd the chaste rites of the Nuptial bed, And let a stranger so adhorn his head: So thou wilt then confess, no art, or cost, Can purchase honesty, that once is lost. She that is bad once, will in bad persever, And being bad once will be bad for ever. As she loves thee, so she before did love M••nelaus, unto whom she false did prove. Thou might'st have been more faithful unto me, As thy brother was to fair Andromache. But thou art lighter than dry leaves, which be By every wanton wind blown off the tree: Or like the waving corn, which every whiff Of wind doth bend, untill it grow more stiff. Thy Cousen once (for I remember't well) With dishevell'd hair did thus my fate foretell; What dost thou Oenone? why do'st thou sow The barren sands? Or why do'st thou thus go About to plough the shoar? it is in vain; Such fruitless tillage can yeild thee no gain. A Gre••ian Maid is coming that shall be Fatal unto thy Country, and to thee. And may the ship be drown'd in the salt stood, Whose sad arrival shall cost so much blood. When she had said thus, straight my flaxen hair Began to heave, and stand upright for fear. Alas, thou wert too true a Prophetess, For she is come, and doth my place possess! Yet she is but a fair adulteress, Who with a strangers love was so soon took; And for his sake her Country hath forsook. Besides, one Theseus (though I know not whom) Brought her out of the Country long agon. And canst thou think an amarous young-man Would send her a pure Virgin back again?

If thou wouldst know how I these truths discry, It is my love, love doth in all things pry. If thou call'st her fault a rape, yet that name May seem to hide her fault, but not her shame. Since she so often from her Country went, 'Twas not by violence, but by her consent. Though by deceit thou me instructed hast, Yet Oeno••e still remaineth chast. I hid me in the woods, while the wanton rout Of nimble Satyres sought to find me out: And horned Fawnes with wreaths of sharp Pine crown'd Over the Mountain Ida sought me round. For great Apollo that protecteth Troy, The spoyles of my virginity did enjoy, By force against my will; for which disgrace I tore my guiltless hair, and scratcht my face; Yet neither precious stones could me entice, Not gold; for I set on my self no price. She that hath wit, and ingenuity, Seemeth for gifts to sell virginity, Apollo thought me worthy to impart To me the skill of Physick, and his Art: The vertue of all Herbs he did reveale To me, and shew'd what Herbs have power to heal. Yet wo's me, that no powerful Herb is found, That can recure loves inward bleeding wound. Since great Apollo who did first invent The art of Physick, yet for my sake went And kept Admetus Oxen; for the slame Of my love turn'd him to a Shepherd Swain: Though Apollo's art, nor Herbs, cannot relieve me; Yet thou can'st help me and some comfort give me; Thou can'st, O then have pity on a Maid: For me the Grecians shall not thee invade.

As from my blooming years, and childish time I have been, so let me still remain thine:

Oenone.