Ovidius Naso, Publius; Banier, Antoine [Komm.]; Picart, Bernard [Ill.]: Ovid's Metamorphoses In Latin And English: [Two Volumes] (Band 1) (Amsterdam, 1732)

i68 P.OVIDII METAMOR-

Nec fum pro patria fupplex: hue hofpita <veni.
Pifa mihi patria eft: (f ab Elide ducimus
ortum.

Sicaniam peregrina colo ifedgratior omniA^*}
Haec mihi terra folo eft. hos nunc Arethufa
penates,

Hanc habeo fedem > quam tu , mitijjima ,
ferva.

Mota loco cur ftm , tantique per aequoris
undas

Advehar Ortjgiam , veniet narratibus hora
Tempeftiva meis: cum tu curisque lev at a, ^OO
Et vultus melioris eris. mihi pervia tellus
Praebet iter fubterque imas ablata cavernas
Hie caput attollo: defuetaque fidera cerno.
Ergo, dum Stygjo fub terris gurgite labor,
Vifta tua eft oculis illic Proferpma noftris. ^O^
Ilia qmdem triftis, nec adhuc interrita vultu;
Sed regina tamcn ,fed opaci maxima mundi >
Sed tamen inferni pollens matrona tyranni.
Mater ad audit as ftupuit, ceu faxea, 'voces:
Attonitaeque diu ftmilis fuit. utque dolore 510
Pulfa gravi gravis eft amentia > curribus
auras

Exit in aetherias: ibi toto nubila vultu
Ante Jovem pajjis ftetit invidiofa capillis.
Proque meo fupplex venio tibi, Juppiter, in-
quit,

Sanguine, proque tpw. ft nulla eft gratia ma-
tris515

Nata patrem moueat: neu fit tibi cur a, pre-
camur,

Vilior illius, quod noftro eft edit a partu.
En quae ft a dm tandem mihi nata reperta eft :
Si repenre vocas, amitiere certius i aut fi
Scire ubi ft , reperire vocas. quod rapta ,

feremus ; 520
Dummodo reddat earn, neque enim praedone

marito

Filia digna tua eft if jam me a flia digna eft.
Juppiter excepit: Commune eft pignus onusque
Nata mihi tecum: fed ,fi modo nomina rebus
Add.ere vera placet , non hoc injuria fac-
tum ,

Verum amor eft: neque erit nobis gener ille
pudori.

Tu modo , Diva , velis. ut defnt cetera

quantum eft,
Effe Jovis fratrem ! quid quod nec cetera

defunt,

Nec ccdit nift forte mihi: fed tanta cupido
Si tibi difcidu >• repetat Proferpinacoelum .'530

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P.OVID'S METAMOR-

My Country's Pifa, I'm an Alien here, ^
Yet thefc Abodes to Elis I prefer, ^
No Clime to me lb fwect, no Place fb dear. \
Thefe Springs I Arethufa now poffefs,
And this my Seat, O gracious Goddcls, blels.
This Ifland why I love, and why I croft
Such Ipacious Seas to reach Ortygias Coaft,
To you I fhall impart, when, void of Care,
Your Heart's at Eafc, and you're more fit to hearj
When on your Brow no prefling Sorrow fits,
For gay Content alone fuch Tales admits.
Earth gives me way: Thro' whole dark Caverns
roll'd

I here afcend; and long-mill: Stars behold 5
While, under Ground, by Styx my Waters glide
Your fweet Proferpina, I there efpy'd.
Fear ftill with Grief might in her Face be feen ;
She yet her Rape laments, tho* made a Queen;
Beneath thole gloomy Shades her Sceptre (ways,
And ev'n th' infernal King her Will obeys.

This heard, the Goddefs like a Statue flood,
Stupid with Grief; and in that mufing Mood
Continu'd long j new Cares a-while fuppreft
The reigning Pow'rs of her immortal Breaft.
At laft to Jove, her Daughter's Sire, llie flies,
And with her Chariot cuts the Chryftal Skies;
She comes in Clouds and with dithevePd Hair,
Standing before his Throne, prefers her Pray'r.

„ King of the Gods,defend my Blood and thine,
And ufc it not the worfe for being mine.
If I no more am grateful to thy Sight,
Yet, Jove, be juft, and do thy Daughter Ricrht.
Long time I fought her, the vaft Globe around
And, when I molt delpair'd, Proferpine found.
But how can I the fad Discov'ry boaft,
By which I know flie is for ever loft ?
Without her Father's Aid, what other Pow'r
Can to my Arms my ravifh'd Child reftore ?
Let him reftore her, I'll the Crime forgive,
My Child, tho' ravifVd, I'd with Joy receive.
O Jove I muft then a Thief your Daughter wed ?
'Cainemine, you think, deferves no better Bed.

Jove thus replies j „ It equally belongs

To Both, to guard our common Pledge from
Wrongs.

But if to Things we proper Names apply,
This hardly can be call'd an Injury.
The Theft is Love •, nor need we blufli to own
The Thief, if I can judge, to be our Son.
Had you of his Defert no other Proof,
To be Jove's Brother is methinks enough.
Nor was my Throne by Worth fuperior got,
Heav'n fell to me, as Hell to him , by Lot:
But if you 're ftill refolv'd her Lofs to mourn,
And nothing lefs will ferve than her Return;

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