Book V

Book V, Elegy 1

Add this little book too, my friend, to those that have before been sent by me from the Getic shore: this, too, will be just such as the fortunes of the poet are. You will find nothing cheerful throughout my whole song. As my state is a mournful one, so are my verses mournful, the writing befitting its master. Unharmed and joyful, I have composed playful and juvenile strains; but now I repent that I composed them. When I fell, I assumed the heralding of my sudden fall; and I myself am the originator of my own subject. Just as the bird of Cayster is said, as he lies on its banks, to lament his death with his dying voice, so do I, expelled afar into the Sarmatian regions, cause my funereal rites not to pass by in silence. If any one seeks for love tales and wanton lines, I warn him beforehand never to read these compositions. Gallus will be better suited to him, and Propertius with his pleasing language; Tibullus, too, a mind full of elegance, will be more adapted to him. Would that I was not one of that number! Ah, wretched me! why did my Muse ever become thus sportive? But I have paid the penalty, and the trifler with quivered Cupid is now far away in the regions of the Scythian Danube. For the future, I turn my attention to verses for the public perusal, and I have commanded them to be careful of their reputation; but yet, if any one of you should ask the reason why I sing so many mournful lines: many a mournful woe have I endured. I compose not these lines through my inventive powers, or my skill; my matter is ingeniously furnished by my own sorrows. How small a part of my fortunes is described in my lines! Happy the man, who suffers evils that he can number! As many as the shrubs which the woods contain, as many as the grains of sand which the yellow Tiber holds, as many as the tender blades of grass which the field of Mars bears, so many evils have I endured, for which there is no cure, no repose, but in indulging my poetic vein, and in the solace of the Muses. What limit, Naso, you will say, "is there to be to your tearful ditties?" The same, I say, that will terminate this fate of mine; this supplies me with complaints from an abundant source; and these words are not mine, but those of my destiny. But if you were to restore to me my country, with my dear wife, then my features would be joyous, and I should be what once I was. Were the wrath of the invincible Cæsar, against me, mitigated, then should I give thee lines full of gladness; but no more should my writings be sportive, as once they were; let them indulge but once in that mischief. I would sing that which Augustus himself would approve; if, only a part of my punishment being alleviated, I could escape from barbarism and the savage Getæ. In the meanwhile, what employment but a mournful one can my writings have? That is the pipe that befits my funereal obsequies.

"But, you will say," you could have better borne your evils in silence, and have quietly concealed your woes! In this you are requiring that no groans should be consequent upon my torture, and are forbidding me to weep, after receiving a severe wound. Phalaris himself allowed him who was inclosed in the brass of Perillus to utter his shrieks, and to lament, through the mouth of the bull. Achilles was not offended by the tears of Priam; whereas you, more cruel than any enemy, forbid my tears. When the progeny of Latona made Niobe childless, they still did not command her to keep her cheeks untouched by tears. 'Tis something to alleviate a deadly evil, by giving utterance to sorrow; 'tis this that makes Progne and Halcyone, always complaining; this was the reason why Philoctetes, the son of Pœas, in the cold cavern, wearied the Lemnian rocks with his voice. Grief repressed chokes one; it agitates internally, and is compelled to redouble its intensity. Grant me pardon rather, or lay aside all my works; if, reader, that hurts you which is my delight. But they cannot hurt you: my writings were never injurious to any one but their author.

They are but poor, I confess. Who compels you to take them up; or who forbids you, when disappointed, to put them down? I do not correct them, but I wish them to be read as being com posed here: they are not more uncouth than the place of their origin; and Rome ought not to form comparisons of me wdth her own poets. Among the Sauromatæ I shall pass for talented. Lastly, no glory is sought by me, nor that Fame which is wont to stimulate the genius. I desire my mind not to be consumed by everlasting cares, which still break in, and go where they are forbidden to go. I have said why I write: you ask why I send these works; it is, that I wish to be among you, in some measure at least.

Book V, Elegy 2

And do you grow pale when a fresh letter arrives from Pontus; and is it unfolded by you with a tremulous hand! Lay aside your apprehensions: I am well, and my body, which formerly was weakly, and unable to endure fatigue, is recruited, and, tossed about, has become hardy by length of habit. Or is it rather that I have no leisure to be ill? Yet my spirit is prostrated by weakness, and has acquired no strength by lapse of time; and the condition of my mind remains the same as it was before. The wounds, which I supposed would close in length of time, and at their proper season, pain me as though this moment inflicted; in truth, length of years is good for little mishaps, but in lapse of time, evils are added to heavy calamities. For almost ten whole years did the son of Pœas endure the pestilential venom yielded by the puffing serpent. Telephus would have died, consumed with lasting disease, if the hand that did the injury had not brought the remedy. I hope, since I have committed no crime, that he who has caused my wounds will be ready to assuage them thus made; and now at length, satisfied with a part of my penalty, may he take a little drop of water from the full ocean. However much he may take off, much of what is bitter will remain; and a part of my banishment will, in its intensity, be equal to the whole. As many as the shells which the sea shore contains, as many as the flowers which the pleasant rose-beds bear, as many as the grains which the drowsy poppy holds, as many as the wild beasts which the wood nourishes, as many as the fishes that swim in the waves, as many as the birds that beat the thin atmosphere with their wings, by so many adversities am I overwhelmed. Should I endeavour to enumerate them, I might as well attempt to tell the number of the waves of the Icarian Sea To pass over in silence the casualties of my journey, the bitter dangers of the ocean, and the hands that were arrayed against my life: a barbarous country, one the most distant in the great earth, now confines me, a place beset with savage enemies on every side.

Hence I should be transferred (for my crime is not a capital one), if you had the care for me which you ought to have. That God, on whom the Roman empire justly relies, when a conqueror, was often merciful towards his enemy. Why do you hesitate? Why fear, when there is no danger? go and ask him. The vast earth contains nothing more full of clemency than Cæsar.

Ah, wretched me! What shall I do if those dearest to me forsake me? Do you, too, withdraw your neck from the yoke now broken? No anchor now holds my bark. He may look to it: I myself, hated as I am, will fly for refuge to the sacred altar: the altar removes the hands of none. Behold! at a distance I address the Deity that is present; if it is allowed man to be able to commune with Jove. Thou ruler of the empire, in whose safety it is evident that all the Gods have a care for Ausonia. Thou Glory, thou resemblance of the country that flourishes through thee, O thou that art not less in value than the world; that thou dost govern; mayst thou live on earth, may the heavens long spare thy presence there! far distant be the time; for thee to go to the stars, which have been promised thee!; Pardon me, I pray, and remove but the least portion of thy lightnings: what shall then remain will be a sufficient punishment. Thy anger, indeed, has been moderated, and thou hast granted me my life: I am neither deprived of the rights nor the name of a citizen. My property has not been granted to! others; nor am I styled an exile in the words of thy edict. All these things I dreaded, because I seemed to deserve them;! but thy anger was more moderate than my offence. Thou hast I ordered me to go in banishment to the fields of Pontus, and to cleave the Scythian seas in the fleeing ship. By thy command, I came to the unsightly shores of the Euxine Sea. This land is situated under the icy pole. Not so much does the climate annoy me, never free from cold, and the ground ever parched up with hoar frost; and the barbarous tongue that is ignorant of the Latin language, and the fact that the Greek dialect; has been overpowered by the Getic pronunciation; as, that I am hemmed in, beset on every side by the neighbouring hosts; and a narrow wall scarcely renders me safe from the enemy. Yet there is peace sometimes, but never any confidence in that peace; and so the place is at one time experiencing war, at another, it is standing in dread of it.

So that I be only removed hence, let either Zanclaean Charybdis devour me, and by its waters send me to Styx, or let me patiently be consumed in the flames of glowing Ætna; or let me be thrown in the deep waters of the Leucadian God. What is required, is punishment, and I refuse not to be wretched; but I entreat that I may be wretched with a little more safety to myself.

Book V, Elegy 3

This is the day, Bacchus, on which the poets are wont to celebrate thee, if I am not deceived in the time; and now they bind their temples with the fragrant wreaths, and sing thy praises over thy wine. Among them, as I remember, while my destiny permitted it, I was one by no means hated by thee. The Sarmatian region, neighbouring to the ferocious Getæ, now confines me, placed beneath the stars of the Cynosurian Bear. I, who in former days passed a life of ease, and freedom from labour, amid my poetic studies, and in the company of the Muses, am now, far from my country, surrounded on every side by the Getic arms, having first endured many fatigues on the sea, many by land: whether 'twas chance, or whether the anger of the Gods, that caused me this, or whether my destiny was lowering at my birth; still thou oughtst, by thy divine power, to have defended one of the sacred cultivators of the ivy. Is it, that everything which the Sisters, the mistresses of Fate, have pronounced, ceases to be under the influence of a Deity? Thou thyself, too, for thy deserts, hast been carried to the heights of heaven, a way to which was made by no small exertion. Thy native land was not inhabited by thee; but thou didst come even as far as the snowy Strymon, and the Getan devoted to Mars; to Persia, too, and the Ganges spreading with its broad stream, and the waters which the swarthy Indian drinks. In truth, the Destinies, spinning the threads of Fate, twice pronounced this doom for thee, twice born. If I am allowed to follow the example of the Gods, a rigid and a hard lot in life harasses me too. Not less heavily did I fall than he whom Jupiter drove with his bolt from Thebes, while boasting aloud. But thou, when thou hast heard of the poet struck by the lightnings, mayst condole with him from the recollection of thy mother. And thou mayst, when looking upon the poets assembled around thy sacrifice, say, I know not which worshipper of mine it is that is absent. Give me thy aid, good Bacchus; let the vine weigh down the lofty elm, and let the grape be full of the wine inclosed in it. Let the active youthful troop of the Satyrs, with the Bacchanals, accompany thee, and be not thou silent amid the stunning noise. And may the bones of Lycurgus wielding the axe be but lightly covered, and may the impious shade of Pentheus not escape punishment. May the Cretan crown of thy spouse shine for ever in the heavens, and surpass in radiance the neighbouring Constellations.

Come hither, most beauteous God and alleviate my woes, remembering that I am one of thy number. There exists an intercourse among the Gods: do try, Bacchus, to soften the divine power of Cæsar by thy divine influence.

You too, ye poets, a holy band, sharers in my pursuits; do ye, each of you, after making a libation of wine, prefer a like petition. And may some one of you, when the name of Naso is mentioned, set down the cup that has been mingled with his tears: and remembering me, when he looks round upon the rest, may he say, Where is Naso, who was but lately a member of our society? And thus be it; if by my uprightness I have deserved your esteem; and if not a line of your works was ever injured by my criticism. If, too, at the same time that I pay due veneration to the writings of the men of old, I am of opinion that the recent compositions are not inferior to them. Then, may you continue to compose your verses under the auspices of Apollo; and, so far as you can, keep up my name among you.

Book V, Elegy 4

I, a letter from Naso, have come from the Euxine Sea, wearied with the ocean, wearied too with my journey. He, with tears, said to me, "Do you, to whom it is permitted, visit Rome; how much preferable, alas! is your fate to my own!" In tears, too, did lie write me; and the signet with which I was sealed was not first put to his mouth, but to hi moistened cheeks. If any one desires to know the cause of his sorrow, he is requiring the Sun to be pointed out to him. He neither sees leaves in the woods, nor the tender grass on the wide meadow, nor water in the flowing stream. He will wonder why Priam grieved, when Hector was snatched from him; or why Philoctetes wept, when stung by the serpent. Oh I that the Gods would grant that my master's state were such that no cause for grief were to be lamented. Yet, as he ought to do, he bears his bitter sorrows with patience, and refuses not the bridle like an unbroken horse. Nor yet does he expect that the wrath of the Deity will be lasting, as he is conscious that criminality was no part of his fault. He often mentions how great is the clemency of the God; and is wont to reckon himself as an illustration of it. For he says that it is through the favour of that God that he still possesses his patrimonial property, and the name of a citizen, and, in fine, that he still lives.

But thee, O friend beloved more than all, if thou belie vest me, he always retains in his entire heart. He calls thee his son of Menœtius, thee his companion of Orestes, thee his son of.geus, thee his own Euryalus. He longs not more for his own country, and the many other things of which, with his country, he finds himself deprived, than for a sight of thy features, and thy eyes, thou, that art sweeter to him than the honey which the Attic bee lays up in the combs! Many a time with tears, does he remember that day, which he grieves was not anticipated by his death. And while otherst fled the contact of his sudden downfall, and were unwilling to approach the threshold of a stricken house; he bears in mind that thou, with a few more (if any one calls two or three a few), remained faithful to him. Although struck with amazement, he was sensible of every thing, and saw that thou didst grieve at his sorrows not less than himself. He is wont to recall to memory thy words, thy features, thy lamentations, and how that with thy tears thou didst bedew his bosom; he remembers the aid that thou didst give him, the comfort with which thou didst console thy friend, when thou thyself shouldst have been consoled. For these things he declares that he will prove grateful and affectionate, whether he beholds the light of day, or is buried in the ground. By his own head, and by thine, was he wont to swear: thine which, I know, is not less dear to him than his own. May abundance of thanks be given in return for services so many and so great; he will not allow thy oxen to plough the barren sea-shore. Only, do constantly defend the exile. What he, who knows thee well, asks not, that do I myself entreat thee.

Book V, Elegy 5

The yearly birthday demands the wonted honour for its mistress: turn, my hands, to the rites of affection. Thus, perhaps, in former days, the hero, son of Laertes, celebrated the festive day of his wife at the extremity of the earth. Let an auspicious tongue be used, forgetting my protracted woes: it, I doubt, has quite forgotten by this, how to utter words of happiness. Let, too, the white dress be assumed, (not according in its hue with my lot,) which is put on by me but once a year. Let the altar, too, be erected, green with the grassy turf; and let the wreath, bound to it, veil the warm hearth. Boy, give me the frankincense, that makes the strong flame, and wine to hiss when poured on the flame lighted by affection. Dearest natal day! Although we are far distant, I wish thee to come hither in white array, and unlike to mine. And if any direful calamity impended on thy mistress, let her have suffered it for si)! future time in my misfortunes. And let the bark, which has lately been more than shattered by a dreadful storm, for the future, speed onward through the sea in safety. May she enjoy her home, the society of her daughter, and her country; let it suffice for her to be torn from me onlyc And since she is not blessed in her beloved husband, let the other portion of her life be without a cloud of sorrow. May she live, and may she love her husband far away, since this she is obliged to do; and may she fill her destined years, but after a prolonged hfe. I would add mine as well; but I am afraid, lest the contact of my destiny should taint the years that she passing.

There is nothing sure to mortals. Who could have supposed that it would come to pass, that I should be celebrating these rites in the midst of the Getæ? But see how the breeze wafts the smoke, arising from the frankincense, towards the regions of Italy, and the lands on my right hand. There is sense, then, in the clouds which the fire raises; almost every thing else refuses to second my purpose. Designedly, when the common rites were being performed on the altar, for the brothers who perished by each other's hand, did the black ashes, at variance, divide themselves into two parts, as though at their command. This I remember, I was wont formerly to say, could not happen; and, in my opinion, the son of Battus spoke not the truth. Now, I believe it all: when thou, conscious smoke, fliest from the North, and takest the direction of Ausonia. This, then, is the day; and had this not risen, no festival would there have been to be seen by me. This day gave birth to virtues equal to those of the heroines, of whom Eetion and Icarius were the fathers. Then was chastity, morality, honesty, and fidelity brought forth: but on this day joyousness was not produced: but toil, and care, and a destiny unsuited to her virtues, and just complaints of a union almost widowed.

In truth, probity, harassed by adversity, furnishes a subject for praise in its day of sorrow. Had the hardy Ulysses seen nothing of adversity, Penelope would have been happy, but unknown to fame. If the hero Capaneus had victoriously penetrated to the citadel of Echion, perhaps her own land would scarcely have known of Evadne. When so many daughters of Pelias were born, why is but one famous? It is because she only was married to an unfortunate husband. Make it so that another should be the first to touch the Trojan sands; there would then be nothing for Laodamia to be mentioned for. And your affection would have remained unknown, as I should have preferred, if favouring breezes had filled my sails.

And yet, O ye Gods, and thou, Cæsar, to be added to the number of the Gods, but at a far distant period, when thy life has equalled in number the Pylian days of Nestor; spare, not me, who confess that I have deserved punishment, but her, who sorrows when she is deserving of no sadness.

Book V, Elegy 6

And dost thou, too, once the safeguard of my fortunes, who wast my refuge and my haven, dost thou even throw aside the cause of thy acknowledged friend; dost thou so soon dismiss the affectionate obligations of duty? I am a burden, I confess; but if thou wast about to lay that burden down in adversity, it should not have been taken up hij thee. Dost thou desert the ship, Palinurus, in the midst of the waves? Fly not, and let not thy confidence be less than thy skill. Did the inconstancy of the faithful Automedon desert the steeds of Achilles during the fierce battle? Did not Podalirius afford the promised aid of the medical art to the invalid whom he had once received? The stranger is turned out with more disgrace to the hosty than is the case if he is not first received. Let the altar which has been afforded me, stand firm for my right hand.

At first, thou didst defend nothing but myself alone; do thou now defend both me and the opinion thou hadst formed of me; if only there is no new fault in me, and if my alleged crimes have not suddenly wrought a change in thy confidence. May this breath, which I draw with difficulty in the Scythian air, first leave my limbs (as I wish it may) before thy heart be wounded by any fault of mine, and before I deservedly appear worthless to thee. I am not so entirely crushed by my adverse destiny, that my mind, as well, is affected by my prolonged misfortunes. Imagine it affected, however: how often, dost thou suppose, that the son of Agamemnon uttered harsh words against Pylades; and it is not very unlikely that he may have even struck his friend; yet not a whit the less did he remain firm in his dutiful attentions. This is the only thing in common with the wretched and the happy, that devotedness is wont to be shown towards them both. Room is made both for the blind, and for those whom the prætextal robe and the rod of command, together with their orders, causes to be dreaded. Tf thou dost not consider me, yet thou oughtst to be considerate to my lot; anger has no grounds for its existence, in my case. Choose the least, yes, the very least, of my afflictions; it will be far greater than what thou dost imagine it to be. A?, many as the reeds with which the wet ditches are filled, as many as the bees which the flowery Hybla holds, as many as the ants which are wont to carry the grains which they have found, by the narrow path to their subterranean granaries, so numerous do the multitudes of my countless evils throng around me. Believe me, my complaints come short of the truth. He who is not contented with these, would pour sand on the sea shore, ears of corn amid the standing crop, and water in the waves! Restrain, then, thy unreasonable fears, and do not forsake my sails, in the midst of the ocean.

Book V, Elegy 7

The letter which thou readest, comes to thee from that land, where the wide Danube is added to the waters of the ocean! If life, with pleasing health, is thy lot, one part of my destiny is still propitious.

Doubtless, my dearest friend, as thou alwayst dost, thou inquirest what I am doing?? although thou mightst know that, even if I were silent upon it. I am wretched; this is the limited substance of my woes; and whoever shall live, having offended Cæsar, will be so.

Hast thou a wish to learn what is the race in the region of Tomi, and among what manners I am living?

Although this spot is divided among the Greeks and the Getæ, it follows rather the customs of the Getæ, who have been but half subdued. A greater multitude of the Sarmatian and of the Getic nations comes and goes along its roads on horseback. Among them there is no one who does not carry a bow-case, a bow, and arrows livid with the venom of serpents. Their voice is wild, their countenance savage, the very resemblance of Mars; neither their hair nor their beard is shorn by any hand. Their right hand is not slow to give a wound with the implanted knife, which every one of these barbarians wears, fastened to his side. Thy poet, alas I ray friend, lives in the midst of these, forgetful of his gentle loves; these he beholds, to these he listens. And may he live, but not die among them! And still may his ghost be far away from these baleful regions!

Thou writest, my friend, that my verses are danced to in the crowded theatre, and that applause is given to my lines. I, indeed, have done nothing for the theatres, and thou thyself knowest it, and my Muse never was ambitious of applause on the stage. But whatever precludes forgetfulness of me, and brings the name of me, in banishment, into the mouths of the people, is far from displeasing. And yet sometimes I curse my verses and my Pierian mistresses, when I recollect the injury they have done me; and, after I have cursed them to the utmost, still I cannot exist without them, and I attach myself to the arms that are stained with the blood of my wounds, command,

The Grecian bark, which has just been shattered by the Euboean waves, dares to cleave the waters of Caphareus. But yet I have no anxiety to be praised, and I have no care for future glory, which had, more to my comfort, better been obscured. I occupy my mind with my pursuits, and I beguile my sorrows; I try, too, thereby to deceive my cares. What should I do, in preference, alone on these solitary shores? or what occupation wouldst thou rather that I should endeavour to seek? If I look at the place, it is odious; and there cannot, in all the world, be one more wretched than it. If I look at the men: the men are hardly worthy of that name, and they have more savage ferocity than wolves. They regard not laws, but right yields to might, and justice, overcome, lies prostrate under the warlike sword. They poorly repel the cold, with skins and flowing trowsers; and their faces are rough, covered with long hair. Vestiges of the Greek language are remaining, in a few words: this, too, has become barbarous, through the Getic pronunciation. There is no one among this people who can by chance translate into Latin, words in general use. I, who am a poet of Home (pardon me, ye Muses), am compelled to say many things in the Sarmatian language. I am ashamed, I confess it; for now, from long disuse, scarcely do the Latin expressions occur to me; and I have no doubt but that there are no few barbarisms in this little work. That is not the fault of the man, but of the place. But, that I may not lose all acquaintance with the Ausonian tongue, and my voice become dumb in its native language, I talk to myself, and I run over the unaccustomed words, and repeat the unfortunate exponents of my pursuits. Thus I occupy my mind and my hours; and thus I take myself away, and remove myself from the contemplation of my woes. I seek in my verse forgetfulness of my miseries; if by my pursuits I obtain that reward, it is enough.

Book V, Elegy 8

Although prostrate, not so low have I fallen, that I am beneath even thee, than whom nothing can be lower. What is it that excites thy anger against me, thou wretch? Or why dost thou insult my misfortunes, which thou thyself mayst have to endure? Do not my miseries, at which eveii wild beasts might weep, render thee gentle and lenient towards me, thus lying prostrate I And dost thou stand in no fear of the divine power of Fortune, standing on the unsteady wheel,— and of the Goddess that abhors boastful words? Ah! the Rhamnusian avenger will exact a befitting punishment! Why dost thou crush my destiny with thy foot placed upon it? I myself have beheld a shipwreck, and men drowned in the sea; and I said, never were the waves more justly avenging. He who once denied a worthless morsel of food to the destitute, is now fed upon the bread of charity. Fleeting Fortune wanders with doubting steps, and remains in no one place for certain, and to be relied upon. At one moment, she abides in a place full of joy; at another, she assumes an austere countenance; and only in her very fickleness is she constant. My fortunes, too, have had their bloom, but that bloom was but fleeting, and my brilliant flame arose but from stubble, and was of short duration.

But that thou mayst not relish thy savage joy with all thy soul, I tell thee, my hope of appeasing the Divinity is not quite extinguished. Both because I committed a fault which fell short of criminality; and though my error is not unaccompanied with shame, it is not attended with hatred: and because the vast earth, from the rising of the sun to his setting, contains nothing more full of clemency, than he, to whom it pays obedience. Truly, as he is not to be subdued by force by any one, in the same degree he has a heart that is tender to humble entreaties. And from him, after the example of the Gods, to whom he is one day to be added, I shall obtain many other requests, with a remission of my punishment.

If thou wast to count the fine days and the cloudy ones, throughout the year, thou wouldst find that the day has oftener been bright. Therefore, that thou mayst not exult too much in my downfall, consider that even I may one day be restored to my country. Consider that it may happen, that, the Prince being appeased, thou in thy sadness mayst behold my features in the midst of the City, and I may behold thee exiled for a more weighty reason. This is my next prayer after my former one.

Book V, Elegy 9

Oh! if thou wouldst but permit thy name to be placed in my verse, how often wouldst thou be inserted there! Remembering thy deserts, I would sing of thee alone; and in my books not a page should swell without thee. It should be known throughout all the City, how much I am indebted to thee: if indeed, an exile, my works are read in the City now lost to me. The present age should know of this kindness, a future age should know it; if only my writings shall reach an age of antiquity. The learned reader should not fail to extol thee: this honour should await thee, for being the preserver of the poet. The chief gift is that of Cæsar, that I breathe the air; next after the great God, thanks must be given to thee. 'Twas he that granted me life; of that which he granted, thou art the protector; and thou causest me to be able to enjoy the gift which I have received from him.

While the greater part of my acquaintances were dismayed at my calamities, and some, too, wished to be thought to be horrified, and from a lofty hill looked down upon my shipwreck, and yet extended no hand to me, as I swam through the surging waters; thou wast the only one to recall me, half dead, from the Stygian waves. This, too, is thine, that I have the power to be grateful. May the Gods, together with Cæsar, ever shew themselves friendly to thee: my prayers cannot extend further. My care, if thou wouldst permit, would insert these things in my ingenious books, to be seen in the broad light of day. Even now, my Muse, although she has been bid to keep silence, scarcely restrains herself from naming thee, thus unwilling. And as the strong leash with difficulty withholds the struggling hound, when he has found the traces of the deer; and just as the high-mettled steed, now with his foot, now with his forehead, beats at the doors of the starting-place, not yet opened, so does my Muse, bound and restrained by the injunction imposed on her, desire to recount the praises of this name, forbidden to he uttered. But that thou mayst not receive injury from the affection of a grateful friend, cease to fear, I will obey thy commands. But yet I would not obey, didst thou not believe that I keep in memory thy kindness, I will be grateful a thing which thy words do not forbid. And while I shall look on the light of the sun, (a short time may it be!) this spirit will be devoted to thy service.

Book V, Elegy 10

Since I have been in Pontus, thrice has the Ister frozen and thrice has the wave of the Euxine sea become hardened. But, to myself, I seem now to have been absent from my country as many years as Dardanian Troy was exposed to the Grecian foe. The time passes so slowly, you would think it to be standing still; and with but slow steps the year performs its course. The summer solstice diminishes not my nights, and midwinter does not make my days shorter. In good truth, the nature of things, in my case, has become quite altered, and renders every thing protracted along with my woes. Do the usual periods really perform their wonted courses, and is it rather that this period of my life is unendurable? Me, whom the shores confine, false in their name of Euxine, and the land of the Scythian, near the Scythian seas, truly sinister in name and in character.

Innumerable tribes around are threatening cruel warfare; tribes which deem it a disgrace not to live by rapine. Outside, nothing is safe; the hill is but poorly defended by small fortifications, and the resources of the place. When you would least expect it, the enemy, in a dense mass, like birds, is flying down upon you, and, before he is well seen, is driving off his prey. Often do we pick up in the midst of the streets their dangerous arrows, that have come within the fortifications, when the gates have been shut. There are few, therefore, that dare to live out in the country; and they, wretched people, plough with one hand, and hold their arms with the other. Covered with a helmet, the shepherd plays on his oaten pipe, joined with pitch; and, instead of the wolf, the timid sheep are in dread of war. By the aid of the citadel, we are hardly defended; and even within, a multitude of the barbarians, mixed with the Greeks, causes apprehension. It isj because the barbarians live together with us, no distinction being made; and they occupy the greater portion of the houses. Even if you did not fear them, you would be disgusted, on seeing their foreheads covered with skins and long hair. Even those, who are supposed to derive their origin from the Grecian city, the Persian trowsers cover, instead of the dress of their country. They enjoy the intercourse of a common language; by gestures, anything must be signified to me. Here it is I who am the barbarian, because by no one am I understood; the stupid Getæ laugh at Latin words. Many a time, before my face, do they speak ill of me in safety, and perhaps are reproaching me with my banishment; and as often as by signs I assent or dissent when they are speaking, just as it happens, they always suppose something to my disadvantage. Besides, iniquitous retaliation is dealt with the cruel sword, and wounds are often inflicted in the middle of the court of justice. Oh, cruel Lachesis, who hast not given a shorter thread of life to one who has a star so disastrous. I lament, my friends, both that I am deprived of the light of my country and of yourselves, and that I am here, in the Scythian land. Either is a heavy punishment: yet I deserved to be expelled from the City; though, perhaps, I did not deserve to be in such a place. Ah! what, in my madness, am I saying? I deserved to lose even my life, when I offended the majesty of Cæsar.

Book V, Elegy 11

Your letter made the complaint that some fellow reproachfully called you the wife of an exile. I was grieved at it; not so much because my fate received blame, as I have now accustomed myself to bear my misery with fortitude; as because I am a source of disgrace to one to whom I would far from wish to be so, and because I think that you have felt ashamed at my misfortunes. Bear up and endure it; you endured a much greater misfortune, when the anger of the Prince snatched me away from you.

Yet he is deceived, in whose allegations I am called an exile. A milder punishment was the consequence of my fault. My greatest punishment is, that I gave offence to the Prince himself: and I would prefer that the hour of my death had come before that. Yet my ship was shattered, not wrecked or sunk; and although she is not in harbour, yet she still keeps above water. He has not deprived me of life or property, or the rights of a citizen; all which I deserved to lose, through my fault. But, because crime was not added to that error of mine, he gave no order, but that I should leave the home of my fathers. And as it is to others, whose numbers cannot be counted, so was the might of Cæsar lenient towards me. He himself, in my case, uses the title of "one removed, not of" an exile; my case is established by the words of its own judge.

he assents or dissents, they are always suspicious of his motives, and are determined never to put a just and fair construction on his words. With justice, then, do my verses, Cæsar, such as they are, celebrate thy praises, with all my energies. Justly do I entreat the Gods still to keep the threshold of heaven closed against thee, and to desire thee to be a God, but not in their company. The public desires the same thing; but just as the rivers, so the stream of the little brook is wont to run into the vast ocean.

And do thou, by whose lips I am styled an exile, cease to aggravate my lot, by the imposition of a false name.

Book V, Elegy 12

Thou writest, that I ought to while away my wretched hours in study, that my talents may not decay in disgraceful sloth. What thou advisest, my friend, is a difficult matter, because versifying is a cheerful occupation, and requires to have the mind at ease. My fortunes are buffeted by adverse storms; and no lot can be more sad than my own. Thou art requiring that Priam should be merry on the death of his children, and that the bereft Niobe should lead the festive dance. Whether does it appear that I ought to be engaged in weeping or in study, thus ordered to go in solitude among the most distant Getæ? Even if thou shouldst give me a breast supported by stout courage, such as Fame says there was in him accused by Anytus; even then, would wisdom lie prostrate, crushed under the weight of so great a downfall. The anger of a God is too strong for human endurance. The old man that was called wise by Apollo, would have been able to write no works under such a calamity. Although forgetfulness of my country should come on me, forgetfulness of yourselves should come, although every recollection of my offence should be able to depart; still does very fear forbid me to perform a duty that needs tranquillity. A place confines me, girt around by foes innumerable. Besides, my invention is grown dull, injured by long-continued rust; and it is far smaller than it once was. The fertile field, if it is not renewed by the constant plough, will contain nothing but grass and thorns. The steed, which has been long standing in the stable, will run badly, and will be the last among the horses issuing from the starting-place. If any bark has been for a long time out of the accustomed water, it becomes changed to crumbling rottenness, and gapes wide with leaks. I. despair that I, too, humble though I was even before, can become equal to what I formerly was. The lengthened endurance of fatigues has crushed my powers, and a large portion of my former vigour is lost. Yet many a time, as now, has the writing-tablet been taken up by me; and I have essayed to arrange the words in their proper feet; either no verses have been composed by me, or such as thou seeest worthy of the circumstances of their master, worthy of the locality. Lastly, fame gives no little energy to the mind, and the love ot praise renders the genius prolific. Formerly, I was attracted by the splendour of praise and celebrity, while yet a favouring breeze bore on my sail yards. Things go not now so well with me, for glory to be a care to me; if it be allowed me, I wish to be known to no one.

Dost thou persuade me to write, that because my verses have before turned out so well, I should follow up my successes? With your leave, may I be allowed to say it, ye Nine Sisters, you are the principal cause of my banishment; and as the designer of the brazen bull paid the just penalty, so do I myself pay the penalty of my own pursuits.

Nothing more ought I to have to do with verses; but, when shipwrecked, I ought, by rights, to avoid all parts of the ocean. But, no doubt, if, in my madness; I should try again my fatal pursuits, this place will afford me opportunities for making my verses. Here, there are no books, no person to give me his attention, or to know what is the meaning of my words. Every spot is full of barbarism and of a savage jargon; all things are filled with the misery of the Getic babble. I seem to myself by this to have forgot my Latin; I have now learned to speak the Getic and the Sarmatian languages.

Nor yet, to confess the truth to thee, can my Muse be restrained from composing poetry. I write, and I burn my books when they are written: a little ashes are the result of my labour. I cannot, and I do not wish to compose any more verses; for that reason, are my labours thrown in the fire. No produce of my invention has come among you, unless snatched from the flames by chance, or by stealth. And so do I wish that my Art of Love had been turned to ashes, which ruined its master, when he apprehended no such a calamity.

Book V, Elegy 13

Health does thy Naso send thee from the Getic shore, if any one can send the thing which he himself is in want of. For I, in ill health, have contracted an infection from my mind in my body, that no part of me may be free and undisturbed by pain. For many days I have been tormented with pains in my side, which, as well, the winter injured with its immoderate cold. But yet, if thou art well, then, in some degree, I am well: because it was by thy shoulders that my downfall was upheld. Since thou hast afforded me these large pledges of affection, and since, through all vicissitudes, thou defendest this person of mine; thou dost wrong, in that thy letters console me but so seldom: and thou performest the duties of affection, I own, unless thou refusest me thy correspondence. Correct this, I pray; shouldst thou correct this only, there will be no blemish in thy faultless person. I would accuse thee more at length; might it not happen, perchance, that the letter did not reach me, and yet that it might have been sent. May the Gods grant, that my complaint is groundless and that I wrongly supposed that thou didst not remember me. It is clear that that is the fact, which I pray: for it is not possible for me to believe that the strength of thy mind is hable to change. Let the white wormwood first be wanting in the freezing Pontus, and let Trinacrian Hybla be without its sweet thyme, before any one can prove that thou art forgetful of thy friend. The'threads of my destiny are not so black as that. But do thou, that thou mayst also be enabled to repel the charge of a fault wrongfully alleged, take care lest thou appear to be what thou art not. And as we were wont to spend much of our time in conversation, the day not sufficing for our discourse; so let our letters carry to and fro our silent words; and let the paper perform the duty of our tongues. And that I may not appear too distrustful that this shall come to pass, and that it may suffice to have put thee in mind in a few lines, receive that word with which a letter ever closes, and a wish that thy lot may be different from mine. Farewell.

Book V, Elegy 14

O wife, dearer to me than myself, you yourself behold what lasting fame my books have conferred on you. Fortune will be at liberty to detract much from the author, but by my talents you will become illustrious. So long as my works shall be read, together will your praises be read: and you cannot entirely cease to exist at the mournful pile. And though you may appear deserving of compassion, on account of the downfall of your husband, some you will find, to wish to be what you are; to call you happy, and to envy you, although you share my miseries. In giving you riches, I could not have given you more; the ghost of the rich man will take nothing to the shades below. I have presented you with the gift of a lasting name, and you have that, than which I could have presented you with nothing greater.

Besides, as you are the sole guardian of my property, to you falls no slight amount of honour. Inasmuch as my voice is never silent about you, you ought to be proud, too, of the good opinion of your husband.

Be it your care, that no one may say that it is rashly pronounced: and regard both me and your own constant fidelity. For your merit, while I was fortunate, remained without any evil charge, and, unblamed, received the praises of all; it has not been unequal to itself in this my term of calamity. Here may your virtues erect a glorious fabric.

'Tis easy to be virtuous, when that which may forbid virtue, is afar off; and when a wife has nothing to obstruct her in the path of duty. When the God has sent his thunders, not to hide one's self from the storm, that is affection, that is conjugal love. Eare, indeed, is that virtue, which Fortune does not influence: which stands with a firm foot, when she flies. But if any virtue was ever the reward of its own deserts sought by it, and showed itself erect in disastrous circumstances; though you should reckon the occasions, yet it is forgotten in no lapse of ages, and all places admire it, wherever the surface of the earth extends.

Do you observe how the fidelity of Penelope has remained, a subject of praise, an immortal name for lengthened ages? Do you see how the wives of Admetus, and of Hector, are celebrated in song, and how the daughter of Iphis dared to ascend the lighted pile? How, too, the wife, she of Phylax, lives in fame, whose husband with active foot trod on the Trojan soil. I require not Death, but love and constancy. Fame is not to be sought by you by an arduous path. But do not suppose that I recommend these things to your notice, because you do them not; I hoist my sails, although the ship speeds on with its oars. He who exhorts you to do, what you are already doing, praises you by his exhortations, and by his advice shows his approval of your actions.