Book II

Book II, Elegy 1

What have I to do with you, ye httle hooks??— an unhappy pursuit of mine, who, in my misery, am undone by my own genius. Why do I turn again to the Muses but just condemned— the grounds of my accusation? Is it too httle, but once to have been found deserving of punishment? My verses have been the cause that both men and women desired to know me, by reason of my ill-omened fate. My verses have been the cause that Cæsar formed his estimation of me and my morals, from my Art of Love, seen by him after a lengthened lapse of time. Take from me my productions — you will then remove, too, the disgrace of my hfe; I owe to my verses, as the result of them, that I am a criminal. This is the reward that I have received for my pains and my labours, the result of my watchings: my punishment was the discovery of my ingenuity.

Had I been wise, I ought, by rights, to have hated the learned sisters — Deities, the destruction of their devotee! But now, so great is the madness that accompanies my disease, that again (sad fate!) I turn my steps to the rocks on which I have struck: the conquered gladiator, forsooth, is seeking once more the arena, and the wrecked ship is returning to the boisterous waves.

Perhaps, as once, in the case of him who held sway o'er the realms of Teuthrantus, so to me, the same object shall give the wound and the remedy; and the Muse, who has excited it, shall assuage the anger that has been provoked: verses often propitiate the great Gods. Cæsar, too, himself ordered the matrons and the brides of Ausonia to repeat verses in honour of Ops, crowned with turrets; he had ordered them also to be repeated in honour of Phoebus, at the time when he appointed the games, which one Age beholds but once. After these precedents, O most merciful Cæsar, I pray that thy anger may be appeased by my productions. It is justified, indeed, and I will not deny that I have been deserving of it: all shame has not, to that degree, fled from my face; but, had I not sinned, what had there been for thee to pardon? My fate has given thee the opportunity for mercy. If, ofttimes as mortals sin, Jove were to hurl his lightnings, in a little time he would be disarmed: when he has thundered, and has alarmed the earth with his peal, he makes the air clear by dispersing the showers; justly, therefore, is he called both the Father and the Ruler of the Gods; justly has the capacious universe nothing superior to Jove. Do thou as well, since thou art styled the Ruler of thy country, and its Father, follow the example of the God that has the same title. And thus thou dost; and, than thee, no one could, with greater moderation, hold the reins of government. Pardon hast thou often granted to the conquered party, which, if victorious, it would not have granted to thee; I have seen many even exalted with riches and honours, who had taken up arms against thy person. The same day which ended the warfare, ended with thee the angry feelings of warfare; and either side, at the same moment, bore offerings to the temples; and, as thy soldiers rejoice that they have subdued the enemy, so has the enemy reason to rejoice that he is subdued. My cause is a better one; who am neither said to have taken up arms against thee, nor to have followed the fortunes of thy enemies. By the sea, by the land, by the third Deities, do I swear, by thee too, a Divinity present and visible to us; that this spirit of mine prayed for thy welfare, and that I, in mind, the only way I could be so, was devoted to thee. I wished that, late in life thou mightst attain the stars of the heavens; and I was an humble fraction of a multitude that prayed the same. For thee, with pious feelings, have I offered the frankincense; and with all the rest, I myself, as one, have seconded the prayers of the public with my own. Why shall I make mention of those books as well, my causes of offence, which, in a thousand places, are filled with thy name?? Examine my larger work, which as yet I have left incomplete, about bodies changed into incredible forms. There wilt thou find the commendations of thy name; there wilt thou find many a pledge of my affection. Thy glory is not enhanced by verse, nor has it any means of increasing, so as to become greater. The glory of Jove is transcendent; yet he is pleased that his deeds should be recounted, and that he himself should be the subject of poetry; and when the battles of the Giant warfare are related, it is worthy of belief that he takes a pleasure in his own praises. Others celebrate thee with as loud a voice as is befitting, and sing thy praises with a more fertile genius; but yet, as a God is moved by the streaming blood of a hundred bulls, so is he influenced by the least offering of frankincense. Ah! cruel was he, and too inhuman a foe to me, whoever it was that read to thee my love tales! for fear lest verses in my books, so full of respect to thee, might possibly be read under the influence of a judgment more favourable. But who, when thou art offended, could prove a friend to me? Hardly, under such circumstances, was I other than an enemy to myself? When the shaken house began to sink, all the weight rested upon the part that subsided; all sides open wide when Fortune has made the breach; buildings themselves fall down through their own weight. And thus the hatred of mankind has been the result of my verses: and, where it ought, the multitude has followed thy looks.

But, as I remember, thou didst approve of my life and manners, as I passed by thee in review, on the horse which thou hadst given me. And if this is of no avail, and no favour is shown to my probity, still, in that position, I gave no ground for crimination. The fortunes of the accused were not ill entrusted to me, and the litigation that was to be taken cognizance of by the hundred men; on private matters, too, did I arbitrate as a judge, without any cause of accusation, and even the party that was defeated bore witness to my uprightness. Wretched me! I had been able, had not late events redounded to my injury, to be safe on thy judgment, not once only expressed in my favour, 'Tis recent matters that have proved my ruin; and one tempest engulfs in the ocean the bark that has been so oft unscathed. Nor was it any little portion of the sea that injured me; but all the waves, and Ocean himself, o'erwhelmed my head.

Why was I the witness of anything? Why did I render my very eyes criminal? Why was I unadvisedly made acquainted with the error? Actæon beheld Diana without her garments, unconsciously: not the less was he a prey to her hounds. In dealing with the Gods above, even accident, forsooth, must be atoned for; and chance receives no pardon when a Deity is affronted: for, on that same day on which my unfortunate mistake removed me from my home, a family, humble indeed, but without a stain, was ruined. Humble, however, though it be, in the days of my father it may be said to have been illustrious, and in point of nobility inferior to none; it was remarkable for neither its wealth nor its poverty; whence, rendered conspicuous by neither extreme, it holds its Equestrian rank. Be it, however, that my family is humble, either in the point of riches or of origin, assuredly it is not rendered obscure by my talents. Although I may seem to have used them too frivolously, still I have derived thence great fame through the whole earth. The class of the learned knows of Naso, and ventures to reckon him among those men that it is not ashamed of. This house, then, beloved by the Muses, falls ruined through but one error, though that was no slight one; and it has so fallen, that it can rise again, if only the wrath of the offended Cæsar should be mitigated, whose clemency, in the case of my punishment, has been so extreme, that it is less severe than I had apprehended. My life was granted me, and thy anger stopped short of death. Prince, that hast thus used thy power with moderation. There still remains to me, as thou didst not take it away, my paternal property, as though the gift of my life was too small. Thou didst not condemn my deeds by the decree of the Senate, nor was my banishment pronounced by a commissioned judge. Censuring me in words of sadness (as becomes a Prince), thou thyself hast avenged, as is proper, my offence against thee. Add, too, that the edict, although terrible and threatening, was still full of mercy in the designation of the punishment; for in it I am called not an exile, but merely one removed, and but few words are employed in pronouncing my destiny. There is, in truth, no punishment more weighty to a man of principle, and who retains his senses, than to have displeased so great a personage. But even a Divinity is wont sometimes to be pacified; the day is wont to proceed in its brightness when the clouds are dispersed. I have beheld the elm, laden with the leafy vines, which had been struck by the dreadful lightnings of Jove. Though thou thyself forbid me to hope, yet hope I will; and this alone can I do, even against thy commands.

Great is the hope that I entertain, when I consider thee, O most merciful Prince! When I reflect upon my lot, my hope vanishes. But as, when the winds ruffle the sea, their rage is not equal, nor their blasts always the same, but sometimes they are lulled, and with intermissions they are at rest, and you would suppose that they had rid themselves of their violence; so do my apprehensions depart, return, and fluctuate, and both give and deny me the hope of appeasing thee. By the Gods above, then, who both can and will give thee length of days, if only they are attached to the Roman name; by thy country, which is safe and free from cares, with thee for its Parent, of which but lately I formed a part, as one of its people; so may the love of the grateful City, thy due, of which, both for thy deeds and for thy disposition, thou art so deserving, attend thee. May Livia, who was deserving of none but thee for her husband, with thee, complete the number of her years as thy companion. Were she not in existence, a single life would then befit thee; for no one would there be, worthy for thee to be her husband. And while thus thou dost flourish, may thy son flourish too; and may he, one day, full of years, rule this empire, in company with thee, more aged than himself. And may thy grandsons, that youthful Constellation, follow in the steps of thee, and of their father, as already they do. May Victory also, always attached to thy camp, show herself ever nigh at hand, and may she attend the well-known standards: may she, too, o'ershadow with her wings the Ausonian chieftain, and may she place the laurel wreaths on his beauteous locks. By him thou wagest the war, in his person dost thou now fight; to him dost thou entrust thy mighty destinies, and thy Gods. In one half of thyself dost thou here present look upon this City; in the other half, thou art far away, and art carrying on the dreadful warfare. E'en so may he return to thee a conqueror from a subdued enemy, and may he be resplendent aloft, with his steeds decked with triumphal garlands.

Spare me, I pray, and lay aside thy bolts, those cruel weapons — weapons, alas! but too well known to me! Spare me, Father of thy country! and do not, in forgetfulness of this title, deprive me of the hope of appeasing thee one day. But I pray not to return; although 'tis worthy of belief that the great Gods have often granted favours greater than those that have been asked for. If thou wouldst grant a more tolerable place for my exile, and at a less distance, then in a great degree would my punishment be alleviated. I am enduring the greatest agony, thrust forth in the midst of our enemies; and no one is there in banishment at a greater distance from his country.

Sent, in solitude, as far as the mouth of the sevenfold Danube, I am oppressed with cold under the icy sky of the Parrhasian virgin. The Iazyges and the Colchians, and the Meterean race and the Getæ are scarcely divided from?ne by the waters of the Danube between us; and where others have been banished by thee for a cause more weighty, a more distant land has been assigned to no one of them than has been to myself. Nothing is there beyond this region but cold and the foe, and the wave of the sea which unites in firm ice. Thus far is the Roman portion of the left side of the Euxine; the Basternæ and the Sauromatæ occupy our neighbourhood. This land is the remotest under Ausonian sway, and is hardly situate within the limits of thy empire. A suppliant, I entreat thee to send me hence to a place of safety, that quiet may not be withheld from me as well as my country; that I may not have to dread the nations from which the Ister is no good defence, and that, a citizen of thine, I may not be captured by the enemy. Justice forbids that any one born of Latian blood should endure the fetters of the barbarian, while the Cæsars are in safety. Although two charges, my verses and my mistake, wrought my ruin, yet the guilt of this latter action must be suppressed in silence by me. For I am unworthy, even by the allusion to renew thy wound, O Cæsar, whom it is far too much to have offended even once.

The other part remains to he spoken of, in which, impeached on a base accusation, I am convicted as the teacher of foul adultery. It is possible, then, that the minds of the Gods can sometimes be deceived; and are not many things too humble for thy observation? Just as there is not time for Jove to attend to trifling matters while he looks at the same moment upon the Deities and the heavens on high, so, while thou art looking around upon the earth, that depends upon thee, things of less consequence escape thy consideration. Wouldst thou deign forsooth, O Prince, abandoning thy high position, to read verses composed in the unequal measure! It is no weight so trifling of the Roman name, that presses upon thee, and no burden so light is supported by thy shoulders that thou couldst occupy thy godlike majesty with my silly trifles, and examine with thine own eyes my idle productions. At one moment, Pannonia, at another, the Illyrian region, is to be subdued by thee; and now the Rhaetian and the Thracian arms give grounds for apprehension. At another time, the Armenian sues for peace; and now the Parthian horseman, with trembling hand, holds out to thee the bow and the captured standards. At another time, Germany feels that thou hast grown young again in thy offspring, and in the place of the great Cæsar, another Cæsar conducts the war. In fine, what never happened before, in the case of so great a whole, there is no part of thy empire that is insecure; the City also, the care of thy laws, and attention to the public morals, which thou wishest to resemble thy own, fatigue thee. That leisure, which thou affordest to nations, falls not to thy lot, and with many, thou art waging war destructive of repose.

Ought I, then, to be surprised if, oppressed by the weight of matters so important, thou hast never perused these pastimes of mine? But if (and would it had been so I) thou hadst perchance had leisure, thou wouldst in reading it have found nothing criminal in my Art of Love. I confess that these are not writings suited to a grave brow, and are not worthy to be read by a Prince so great but they are not, on that account, contrary to the precepts of the laws; and they are for the edifying of the Roman women. That thou mayst not doubt to whom I address my writings, one little book of the three has these four lines: — "Be ye afar, ye with the little fillets on your hairy the mark of chastity; and thou long flounce, which concealest the middle of the foot; we will sing nought but what is lawful, and thefts allowable; and in my song there shall be nothing that is criminal. And have I not scrupulously removed from this Art of Love those whom the lengthened gown, and the assumption of the fillet, forbid to be brought in contact with it? But still, the matron may make use of the arts that belong to others; and even though she be not taught, she has the means of gaining information. Let the matron, then, read nothing at all, because, from every poem she can receive instruction how to misbehave. Whatever she glances upon, if she is at all inclined to sin, thence will she adapt her morals to crime. Let her take up the Annals; nothing is more uninviting than them: yet, in truth, there will she read how Ilia became a mother. Let her take up the hook in which the 'ancestress of the line of Æneas" comes first; she will find how the genial Venus became the ancestress of those descendants. I will descend lower (if only I may be allowed to proceed in order), to show that every kind of poetry can injure the mind. Yet, for that reason, every book should not be condemned. That thing is of no use which is not able to hurt as well. What is there more useful than fire? Yet, if any one endeavours to burn a house, it is with fire that he provides his rash hands. The healing art sometimes takes away health, at other times, bestows it; and it shows what herb is wholesome, and what is injurious. Both the cut-throat and the wary traveller is ready girt with the sword; but the one plans treachery, the other carries a protection for himself. Eloquence is taught to plead the cause of the innocent; yet it protects the guilty, and presses hard on the guiltless. So, then, it will be clear, that my verses, if they are read in a proper spirit, can injure no one. But whoever it is that derives any idea of viciousness from them, he is in the wrong, and detracts too much from the credit of my writings. Suppose, however, that I confess it: the games as well afford incentives to vice. Order, then, the whole of the theatres to be swept away, which have given to many a one an opportunity for wickedness, when the sand of Mars is besprinkled on the hard ground. Let the Circus be abolished: the licence of the Circus is unsafe; here sits the girl by the side of some strange man. Why are any porticos left open, when some women walk in them, that their lovers may meet them there? What spot is there more venerable than the temples? If any woman has a turn for criminal pursuits, let her avoid these as well. When she shall be standing in the temple of Jove, there, in his temple, will it occur to her how many were made mothers by that God. It will occur to her, who pays respect to the neighbouring temple of Juno, how that Goddess was vexed by many a concubine. On beholding Pallas, she will enquire why the Virgin brought up Ericthonius, who derived his being from a criminal attempt. Suppose she enters the temple of mighty Mars, thy own gift, there, before his doors, stands Venus, in conjunction with Mars, the Avenger. Sitting in the temple of Isis, she will ask why the daughter of Saturn drove her over the Ionian and the Bosphorean seas. In the case of Venus, Anchises; in that of Diana, the Latmian hero; and in the case of Ceres, Jasius, will have to he made mention of. All these are able to lead perverted minds astray, and yet they are all standing safe on their sites. But the first page warns the virtuous matrons away from the Art of Love, written for the wanton only. Whoever breaks in by force, where the priest does not allow her to go, forthwith, on that account is she accused of a crime that is forbidden. But it is not a crime to peruse wanton poems, although females of virtue may there read many things not to be put in practice. Ofttimes does the matron of severe aspect look upon the females naked, and practising each kind of indelicate posture. The eyes of the Vestals behold the persons of the wanton, nor has that been any ground for punishment by their master.

But why is there in my poetry an excess of wantonness? or why does my book persuade any one to love? That it is nothing less than a sin, and a manifest fault, must be confessed. I grieve for thus perverting my talents and my judgment. "Why was not rather that Troy, which fell by the weapons of Argos, harassed once again in my verses? Why was I silent about Thebes, and the mutual slaughter of the brothers? and the seven gates, each of them under its chief? Warlike Rome, too, was not sparing of material for me; it is a labour of affection to recite the exploits of one's country. Lastly, Cæsar, inasmuch as thou hast filled all places with thy glorious deeds, one portion selected from many might have been sung by me; as the brilliant rays of the sun attract the eyes, so might thy deeds have attracted my feelings. Unjustly am I accused. A humble field is tended by me; the other were a work requiring great fertility of invention. If, perchance, one ventures to sport on a little pond in a small boat, that is no reason for trusting one's-self on the ocean. Perhaps (and of that I am doubtful) I am well enough suited for trifling compositions, and am adapted for slight productions; but if thou shouldst order me to sing of the Giants subdued by the bolts of Jove, the weight would exceed my strength for the attempt. It belongs to a mind richly endowed to treat of the mighty deeds of Cæsar, lest the work be overpowered by its subject. And yet I made the attempt; but I seemed to be detracting from thy fame, and unrighteously to be a detriment to thy virtues. Again I resorted to my lighter labours, my youthful compositions: and with a fictitious passion was my breast smitten. I wish, indeed, that I had not; but my destiny drew me on, and I exercised my ingenuity to my own destruction. Oh! wretched being that I am, that ever I received instruction! that my parents taught me, and that any letter ever arrested my eyes! This wantonness rendered me hateful to thee, by reason of my books on the Art of Love, which thou didst suppose had been aimed against ties forbidden to their influence. But, under my instruction, the matrons did not learn furtive loves; for no one is able to teach that of which he knows but little. I have so composed my love tales and my light poems, that no evil story ever wounded my reputation. There is no husband of the middle class that is in doubt whether he himself is really a father through any fault of mine. Believe me, my morals are far different from those of my poem; my life is one of decency: my Muse is a sportive one. A great part, also, of my labours, that is untrue and fictitious, has allowed itself more license than ever its author did. My book, too, is no index of my mind, but is an honourable amusement, that presents many things in apt expression for tickling the ear. If thus judged, Accius" would be a savage; Terence would be a glutton; those who sing of fierce wars must needs be ever embroiled.

In fine, I am not the only one who has sung of voluptuous amours; yet I am the only one that has received punishment for his love compositions. What precepts did the Teian muse of Anacreon, the Lyric old bard, give, except how to unite love with abundance of wine? What did Lesbian Sappho do, but teach the girls how to love?? And yet Sappho was safe, a-nd he was unharmed. And to thee, descendant of Battus, it was no injury that thou thyself didst often confess thy gaieties to the reader. There is no play of the pleasing Menander without an amour, and yet he is accustomed to be read by youths and virgins. The Iliad itself, what is it but the case of a base adulteress, about whom there was a strife between the lover and the husband? What happens in it before the flame conceived for Chryseis? and how did the ravished damsel cause anger between the chieftains? Or what is the Odyssey, but the case of one woman, sought, while hei husband is away, by a host of suitors, to gratify their passion? Who but the Mæonian bard tells the story of Venus and Mars fastened together, and their two persons caught in a polluted bed? Whence should we learn, but from the showing of great Homer, how two Goddesses fell in love with their guest? Tragedy surpasses every style of composition in seriousness; this as well, always has love for its subject. For what was there in the case of Hippolytus, but the flame of his blinded step-mother? By the love of her own brother is Canace celebrated. What besides? Did not the son of Tantalus, with his ivory limb, carry her of Pisa with Phrygian steeds, while Love gave speed to his chariot. Grief, caused by blighted love, made the mother stain the steel with her children's blood. Love suddenly changed the king and his concubine into birds, and her who, even now, a mother, laments her Itys. If a wicked brother had not loved Aerope, we should not read of the horses of the Sun turning back. The impious Scylla, too, would not have obtained the buskin of tragedy, had not love cut off the locks of her father. You who read of Electra and of Orestes, deprived of reason, read, too, of the crime of Ægisthus, and of the daughter of Tyndarus. And what shall I say of the grim subduer of the Chimæra, whose death a deceitful hostess was nearly causing? Why should I mention Hermione? Why the virgin daughter of Schoeneus? And why thee, priestess of Phoebus, loved by the Prince of Mycenæ? Why mention Danae and her daughter-in-law, and the mother of Lyasus? And why, Hæmon, and her, for whom two nights were united? Why the son-in-law of Pelias? Why Theseus? And why Protesilaus, him who was the first of the Greeks to touch the Trojan ground? To these be added Iole, and the mother of Pyrrhus; the wife of Hercules as well, Hylas, and the Trojan boy. Time would fail me, should I recount the loves of Tragedy, and scarcely would the whole of my book contain the bare names.

Tragedy, too, is distorted by obscene jokes, and contains many expressions which violate decency. It is no reproach, too, to the author, who, in his verses, has represented Achilles as in love, and stopping short in his warlike deeds. Aristides connected with his name the crimes of Miletus; and yet Aristides was not banished from his city. Nor yet was Eubius, the compiler of impure stories, who described how abortions are produced. Nor was he exiled who lately composed the Sybaritic poem; nor yet those who have not kept silence on their own intrigues. These are even mingled with the memorials of the learned, and by the munificence of our Princes are they made public.

And not only by foreign armour shall I be defended; the Roman writings as well have many a wanton passage. As the grave Ennius sang of Mars with his own mouth, Ennius excelling in talent, yet rude in his management of it; as Lucretius, too, explains the principles of blazing fire, and prophesies that the threefold work will one day perish, so, too, many a time, was his sweetheart, whose fictitious name was Lesbia, sung of by the wanton Catullus. And, not content with that, he published many of his amours, in which he himself confessed his own adultery. Equal, too, in degree, and like in character, was the licentiousness of one little Calvus, who revealed his stolen caresses in various songs. Why shall I mention the poems of Ticida and of Memmius, with whom names cannot be found for their subjects, or decency for their names, when found. Cinna, too, is the companion of these, and Anser, more lascivious even than Cinna, and the sportive work of Cornificius, and the similar one of Cato. Those, too, of whose books, she who before was concealed under the name of Perilla, is the subject, called by her own name of Metella. He as well, who brought the ship Argo into the Phasian waters, was not abe to be silent upon the stealthy joys of his intrigues. No less impure are the verses of Hortensius, nor less impure are those of Servius. Who could hesitate to follow the example of names so great? Sisenna translated Aristides; and yet it did him no harm to insert wanton jests in his history. It was no disgrace, too, to Gallus to sing of Lycoris, but it was, for him not to have held his tongue, when he had taken too much wine. Tibullus thinks it is a difficult thing to believe a woman on her oath, and similarly with regard to the denials she makes about herself to her husband. He confesses, too, that he has taught her how to deceive her protector: and he says that he, to his sorrow, has been injured through his own precepts. He says that he has many a time squeezed a hand, on the pretext as though he was praising the jewel or the signet of its owner. And, as he tells, many a time has he conversed with his fingers and with signs, and drawn the silent hints on the surface of the table. He teaches, too, by means of what extracts the paleness may be removed from the features, which is usually caused by the pressure of a kiss. Besides, he asks the too careless husband even to watch him, that the wife may have the less chance of sinning. He knows at whom the dog is barking, while he is walking up and down alone; and why he spits so many times, as a signal, before the closed doors. And many a precept does he give for such guilty thefts; he teaches, too, by what means wives may systematically deceive their husbands. And yet this was no injury to him; Tibullus is read, and amuses, and was already well known when thou wast made Prince. Thou wilt find, too, the same precepts in the pleasing Propertius; and yet he was not punished with the slightest disgrace.

Of these I was the successor, since honour bids me not mention many excellent names of persons now living. I was not afraid, I confess, that in the track where so many ships had gone, one would be wrecked, when the rest were all saved. The skill has been described by some, which is requisite for playing at games of hazard, and this sin against our ancestors is no small crime. They teach what is the value of the throws on the dice; how you may make the most at a throw, or how you may escape the losing numbers; how many numbers the gamester's cube has; in what manner it is proper to throw when the wanting number is called, and in what manner to move the throws; how, too, the man of the opposite colour proceeds onward in a straight line, when the piece is lost that lies in the middle between two enemies; how the player may understand when rather to follow, and how to recall his piece when advanced; that, as it retreats in safety, it may not again advance unprotected. There is a little board, provided with three pebbles, on which, to bring one's own men in a straight line gives the victory. And other games there are (I will not now recount them all), which a-e wont to waste a valuable thing, namely, our time. And see how another sings of the shape and the throw of the ball; another teaches the art of swimming; another of holding the hoop. The art of dyeing in colours has been taught by others; and another writer has laid down the law for feasting and good fellowship. Another one points out the clay from which cups are made, and he informs us what kind of vessel is fit for the flowing wine. Such sportive trifles as these are composed in the month of smoky December, and no one has received injury from having composed them. Deceived by these considerations, I have made my verse the reverse of sad; but a sad retribution has been the result of my jests. In fact, I see not one out of so many writers, of whom his Muse has been the ruin; I am the only one to be found. But, suppose I had written Mimes, with their obscene jokes, which are always amenable to the charge of containing a love story? In these, constantly does the spruce adulterer strut about; and the cunning wife plays tricks upon her booby husband. The marriageable virgin, the matron, the husband, the boy, are all spectators of these: and a great part of the Senate is there. And it is not enough for the ears to be polluted with filthy language: the eye is accustomed to put up with many indecent sights. When the lover has outwitted the husband by any new device, they clap aloud, and the victory is granted him with great applause. The less its utility, the more lucrative is the stage to the poet, and the Praetor buys abuses of such enormity at no small cost. Examine, Augustus, the expenses of thy games; many such as these wilt thou find that have been bought for thee at a heavy price. At these thou hast been a spectator, and hast many a time given them for a spectacle, so kindly disposed in every way is thy Majesty. With thy own eyes, too, which all the world follows, sitting at thy ease, thou hast looked upon the adulteries of the stage. If it is allowable to write Mimes, that imitate vicious actions, a less punishment is surely due to my case. Do their boards ensure safety for this kind of composition, and is the stage privileged to allow in its Mimes whatever it pleases? My songs, as well, have many a time been represented in the dance; many a time have they arrested thy attention.

As in truth, in thy abode the ancient figures of heroes are resplendent, painted by the artist's hand; so, in a certain spot there there is a little picture, which shows the variety of postures and figures which belong to Venus. And as the son of Telamon sits, expressing his anger in his countenance, and the barbarous mother is conceiving crime in her very eyes; so dripping Venus is wringing her wet hair with her fingers, and seems but now covered with the waters that gave her birth. Others recite warfare, armed with its blood-stained weapons; some, too, sing the exploits of thy family, some thy own. Penurious nature confined me within narrow limits, and gave but little strength to my genius. And yet he who was the fortunate author of thy Æneid introduced his arms and his hero to a Tyrian intrigue: and no subject is more read of, throughout the whole work, than love united by unlawful ties. The same poet had before, when a youth, sportively related in his verse the soft flames of Phillis and of Amaryllis. I, long since, erred by one composition; a fault that is not recent endures a punishment inflicted thus late. I had already published my poems, when of Equestrian ranky so many times, according to my privilege, in review, I passed thee unmolested, who, at the very time, was the inquirer into criminal charges. Is it, then, possible that the writings which, in my want of prudence, I supposed would not injure me when young, have now been my ruin in my old age? This late vengeance for a work written so long since, is superfluous, and the punishment is far removed from the time when it was merited.

That thou mayst not, however, suppose that all my works are thus loose, I have often fitted ample sails to my bark; I have written the books of six months' Fasti, and themselves as many in number: and each book comes to an end with its month. My fate interrupted that work; that work, too, dedicated under thy name, Cæsar, and consecrated to thee. I have produced also a poem of kings for the tragic buskin; and that buskin employs such expressions as, in its gravity, it ought to use. The transformation, too, of bodies into new shapes has been sung of by me, although a finishing hand has been wanting to the work. And I wish that thou wouldst relieve thy mind but a little of its anger, and order, at thy leisure, a few lines of this work to be read to thee. A few lines, in which, commencing from the earliest origin of the world, I have brought the work down, Cæsar, to thy times: thou wouldst then behold how much spirit thou thyself hast given me, and with what devotion of mind I sing of thee and thine.

No one have I pulled to pieces in spiteful verses, nor does my poetry contain a charge against any one. In my innocence, I have abstained from witticisms steeped in gall; not a letter is there tainted with a venomous sarcasm. Among so many thousands of our people, so many thousands of our writings, I am the only one whose own Muse has been his ruin. I do not suppose, then, that any Roman will rejoice at my misfortunes, but rather, that many have taken them to heart. It transcends my belief, that any one could trample on me, when prostrate, if any regard has been had to my innocence. On these and other considerations, I entreat that thy divine Majesty may be moved, O Father, O thou care and salvation of thy country. I pray not to return to Ausonia, except, perhaps, at a future day, when thou shalt be prevailed on, by the lengthened duration of my punishment. I pray for a safer place of exile, and one a little less disturbed, that my punishment may be commensurate with my transgression.