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ELEGIA XIII.*

Ad Isidem, ut parientem Corinnam juvet.

WHILE rashly her womb's burden she casts out,
Weary Corinna hath her life in doubt.
She secretly with me + such harm attempted,
Angry I was, but fear my wrath exempted.
But she conceiv'd of me; or I am sure
I oft have done what might as much procure.
Thou that frequent'st Canopus' pleasant fields,
Memphis, and Pharos that sweet date-trees yields,
And where swift Nile, in his large channel slip-
ping,

By seven huge mouths into the sea is skipping; §
By fear'd Anubis' visage, I thee pray,—
So in thy temples shall Osiris stay,

And the dull snake about thy offerings creep,
And in thy pomp horn'd Apis with thee keep,-
Turn thy looks hither, and in one spare twain:
Thou giv'st my mistress life, she mine again.
She oft hath serv'd thee upon certain days,
Where the French rout engirt themselves with
bays ||

On labouring women thou dost ¶ pity take,
Whose bodies with their heavy burdens ache,-
My wench, Lucina, I entreat thee favour;
Worthy she is, thou shouldst in mercy save her.
In white, with incense I'll thine altars greet;
Myself will bring vow'd gifts before thy feet,
Subscribing Naso with Corinna sav'd:
Do but deserve gifts with this title grav'd.
But, if in so great fear I may advise thee,
To have this skirmish fought, let it suffice thee.

ELEGIA XIV.**

In amicam, quod abortivum ipsa fecerit.

WHAT helps it women ++ to be free ‡‡ from war, Nor, being arm'd, fierce troops to follow far,

If, without battle, self-wrought wounds annoy them,

And their own privy-weapon'd hands destroy them?

Who unborn infants first to slay invented,
Deserv'd thereby with death to be tormented.
Because thy belly should rough wrinkles lack,
Wilt thou thy womb-enclosed offspring wrack?
Had ancient mothers this vile custom cherish'd,
All human kind by their default* had perish'd;
Or stones,† our stock's original, should be hurl'd,
Again, by some, in this unpeopled world.
Who should have Priam's wealthy substance won,
If watery Thetis had her child fordone?
In swelling womb her twins had Ilia kill'd,
He had not been that conquering Rome did ‡
build.

Had Venus spoil'd her belly's Trojan fruit,
The earth of Cæsars had been destitute.
Thou also, that wert born fair, hadst decay'd,
If such a work thy mother had assay'd.
Myself, that better die with loving may,
Had seen, my mother killing me, no day.§
Why tak'st increasing grapes from vine-trees
full?

With cruel hand why dost green apples pull?
Fruits ripe will fall: let springing things increase:
Life is no light price of a small surcease.||
Why with hid irons are your bowels torn?
And why dire poison give you babes unborn?
At Colchis,** stain'd with children's blood, men
rail,

And, mother-murder'd Itys, thee ++ bewail:
Both unkind parents; but, for causes sad,
Their wedlocks' pledges veng'd their husbands

bad.

What Tereus, what läson you provokes

To plague your bodies with such harmful strokes?
Armenian tigers never did so ill,

Nor dares the lioness her young whelps kill.
But tender damsels do it, though with pain;
Oft dies she that her paunch-wrapt child hath
slain :

* Elegia XIII.] Not in ed. A.

+ secretly with me] Our author has mistaken the meaning of "clam me."

Thou] i. e. Isis.

§ skipping] Old eds. "slipping."

Where the French rout engirt themselves with bays] “Qua cingit lauros Gallica turma [some eds. turba] tuos." Here Marlowe has confounded Galli, the priests of Isis (properly those of Cybele), with Galli, Gauls, Frenchmen! thou dost] i e. thou that dost. **Elegia XIV.] Not in ed. A. 11 women] Old eds. “woman." !! free] So ed. B.-Ed. C "freed."

default] "vitio."

↑ Or stones, &c.] Old eds. "On stones," &c.

I did] So ed. B.-Ed. C "bid."

§ no day] Old eds. "to day."-"Vidissem nullos, matre necante, dies."

|| Life is no light price of a small surcease] “Est pretium parvæ non leve vita mora.'

At] So ed. B.-Ed. C "And."

* Colchis] i. e. Medea.

tt thee] As the line is now pointed, there is no objection

to this reading; but the original leads me to suspect that Marlowe wrote "they."

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Fit her so well as she is fit for me,
And of just compass for her knuckles be.
Blest ring, thou in my mistress' hand shall lie!
Myself, poor wretch, mine own gifts now envy.
O, would that suddenly into my gift

I could myself by secret magic shift!
Then would I wish thee touch my mistress' pap,
And hide thy left hand underneath her lap.
I would get off, though strait and sticking fast,
And in her bosom strangely fall at last.
Then I, that I may seal her privy leaves,
Lest to the wax the hold-fast dry gem cleaves,
Would first my beauteous wench's moist lips

touch;

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ELEGIA XVI.*

Ad amicam, ut ad rura sua veniat.

SULMO, Peligny's third part, me contains,
A small, but wholesome soil with watery veins.
Although the sun to rive the earth incline,
And the Icarian froward dog-star shine,
Pelignian fields with+ liquid rivers flow,
And on the soft ground fertile green grass grow;
With corn the earth abounds, with vines much
more,

And some few pastures Pallas' olives bore;
And by the rising herbs, where clear springs slide,
A grassy turf the moisten'd earth doth hide.
But absent is my fire: lies I'll tell none;
My heat is here, what moves my heat is gone.
Pollux and Castor might I stand betwixt,
In heaven, without thee, would I not be fixt.

Upon the cold earth pensive let them lay,
That mean to travel some long irksome way;
Or else will maidens young men's mates to go,
If they determine to persever so.

Then on the rough Alps should I tread aloft,
My hard way with my mistress would seem soft.
With her I durst the Libyan Syrts break through,
And raging seas in boisterous south-winds plough.
No barking dogs, that Scylla's entrails bear,
Nor thy gulfs, crook'd Malea,§ would I fear;
No flowing waves with drowned ships forth-pour'd
By cloy'd Charybdis, and again devour'd.
But if stern Neptune's || windy power prevail,
And water's force force helping gods to fail,
With thy white arms upon my shoulders seize :

So sweet a burden I will bear with ease.
The youth, oft swimming to his Hero kind,
Had then swum over, but the way was blind.
But without thee, although vine-planted ground
Contains me, though the streams the fields ¶
surround,

Though hinds in brooks the running waters bring,
And cool gales shake the tall trees' leafy spring,
Healthful Peligny I esteem naught worth,
Nor do I like the country of my birth;

* Blegia] XVI.] Not in ed. A. twith] So ed. C.-Ed. B "which." twill] i. e. bid.

§ crook'd Malea] Here, as the original has "Malēa,” I have printed "crook'd": but, the penultima of the name being common, perhaps Marlowe meant us to read the words thus,-" crooked Malea."

But if stern Neptune's, &c.] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "Quod si Neptuni," &c.

the fields] Ed. B "in fields."-Ed. C "in field."

Scythia, Cilicia, Britain are as good,
And rocks dy'd crimson with Prometheus' blood.
Elms love the vines; the vines with elms abide;
Why doth my mistress from me oft divide?
Thou swear'd'st,* division should not 'twixt us
rise,

By me, and by my stars, thy radiant eyes;
Maids' words, more vain and light than falling
leaves,

Love-snar'd Calypso is suppos'd to pray

A mortal nymph's refusing lord to stay.
Who doubts, with Peleus Thetis did consort?
Egeria with just Numa had good sport;
Venus with Vulcan, though, smith's tools laid by,
With his stump foot he halts ill-favouredly.
This kind of verse is not alike; yet fit
With shorter numbers the heroic sit.
And thou, my light, accept me howsoever;

Which, as it seems,† hence wind and sea be- Lay in the mid bed, there be my lawgiver.

reaves.

If any godly care of me thou hast,

Add deeds unto thy promises at last;

And, with swift nags drawing thy little coach, Their reins let loose, right soon my house approach.

My stay no crime, my flight no joy shall breed,
Nor of our love to be asham'd we need.
For great revenues It good verses have,
And many by me to get glory crave.

I know a wench reports herself Corinne :
What would not she give that fair name to win?

But when § she comes, you swelling mounts, But sundry floods in one bank never go,

sink down,

And falling valleys be the smooth ways' crown! ¶

Eurotas cold, and poplar-bearing Po;
Nor in my books shall one but thou be writ;
Thou dost alone give matter to my wit.

ELEGIA XVII.**

Quod Corinnæ soli sit serviturus.

To serve a wench if any think it shame,
He being judge, I am convinc'd ++ of blame :
Let me be slander'd, while my fire she hides,
That Paphos and flood-beat ‡‡ Cythera guides.
Would I had been my mistress' gentle prey,§§
Since some fair one I should of force obey!
Beauty gives heart: Corinna's looks excel;
Ay me, why is it known to her so well?
But by her glass disdainful pride she learns,
Nor she herself, but first trimm'd up, discerns.
Not though thy face in all things make thee
reign

(0 face, most cunning mine eyes to detain !),
Thou ought'st therefore to scorn me for thy
mate:

Small things with greater may be copulate.

* swear'd'st] Old eds. "swearest.'

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Which, as it seems] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "Irritaque, ut visum est."

twith] So ed. B.-Not in ed. C.

when] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "cum veniet." you] Old eds. "your."

Ani falling valleys be the smooth ways' crown] Very far from plain. "Et faciles curvis vallibus este viæ." **Elegia XVII] Not in ed. A.

I am convine'd] Marlowe must have read "convincor." 11 and flood-beat] Old eds. "and the floud-beate."

$$ gentle prey Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "mitis quoque præda."

ELEGIA XVIII.‡

Ad Macrum, quod de amoribus scribat.

To tragic verse while thou Achilles train'st,
And new-sworn soldiers' maiden arms retain'st,
We, Macer, sit in Venus' slothful shade,§
And tender love hath great things hateful made.
Often at length, my wench depart I bid:
She in my lap sits still as erst she did.

I said, "It irks me" : half to weeping fram'd,
"Ay me!" she cries, "to love why || art asham'd"?
Then wreathes about my neck her winding arms,
And thousand kisses gives, that work my harms.
I yield, and back my wit from battles bring,
Domestic acts and mine own wars to sing.
Yet tragedies and sceptres fill'd my lines;
But, though I apt were for such high designs,
Love laughed at my cloak and buskins painted,
And rule so soon¶ with private hands acquainted.
My mistress' deity also drew me fro** it,
And Love triumpheth 'er his buskin'd poet.

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What lawful is, or we profess love's art,
(Alas, my precepts turn myself to smart!)
We write, or what Penelope sends Ulysses,
Or Phillis' tears that her Demophoon misses;
What thankless Jason, Macareus, and Paris,
Phædra, and Hippolyte may read, my care is ;
And what poor Dido, with her drawn sword
sharp,

Doth say,* with her that lov'd th' Aonian † harp.
As soon as from strange lands Sabinus came,
And writings did from divers places frame,
White-cheek'd Penelope knew Ulysses' sign,
The step-dame read Hippolytus' lustless line;
Eneas to Elisa § answer gives,

And Phillis hath to read, if now she lives;
Jason's sad letter doth Hypsipyle greet;
Sappho her vow'd harp lays || at Phoebus' feet.
Nor of thee, Macer, that resound'st forth arms,
Is golden Love hid in Mars' mid alarms.
There Paris is, and Helen's crime's record,
With Laodamia, mate to her dead lord.
Unless I err, to these thou more incline

Ah, often, that her hale* head ach'd, she lying, Will'd me, whose slow feet sought delay, be t flying!

Ah, oft, how much she might, she feign'd
offence,

And, doing wrong, made show of innocence !
So, having ver'd, she nourish'd my warm fire,
And was again most apt to my desire.

To please me, what fair terms and sweet words
has she!

Great gods, what kisses and how many ga' she! §
Thou also, that late took'st mine eyes away,
Oft cozen me, oft, being woo'd, say nay;
And on thy threshold let me lie dispread,
Suffering much cold by hoary night's frost bred.
So shall my love continue many years;
This doth delight me, this my courage cheers.
Fat love, and too much fulsome,¶ me annoys,
Even as sweet meat a glutted stomach cloys.
In brazen tower had not Danäe dwelt,
A mother's joy by Jove she had not felt.
While Juno lö keeps, when horns she wore,

Than wars, and from thy tents wilt¶ come to Jove lik'd her better** than he did before.
mine.

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FOOL, if to keep thy wife thou hast no need,
Keep her for me, my more desire to breed.
We scorn things lawful; stoln sweets we affect;
Cruel is he that loves whom none protect.
Let us, both lovers, hope and fear alike;
And may repulse place for our wishes strike.
What should I do with fortune that ne'er fails
me?

Nothing I love that at all times avails me.
Wily Corinna saw this blemish in me,

And craftily knows ++ by what means to win me.

*Doth say] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "Dictat."

↑ Aonian] His copy had "Aonia," instead of the right reading "Eoliæ."

As soon as, &c.] Far from the meaning of "Quam celer e [some eds. cito de] toto rediit meus orbe Sabinus,"

&c.

§ Elisa] See note II, p. 266.

lays] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "Dat votam," &e. wilt] So ed. B.-Ed C" will."

**Blegia XIX.] Not in ed. A.

tt knows] Qy. "knew "-"norat."

Who covets lawful things, takes leaves from

woods,

And drinks stoln waters in surrounding floods.
Her lover let her mock, that long will reign:
Ay me, let not my warnings cause my pain!
Whatever haps,++ by sufferance harm is done:
What flies I follow, what follows me I shun.
But thou, of thy fair damsel too secure,
Begin to shut thy house, at evening, sure.
Search at the door who knocks oft in the dark,
In night's deep silence why the ban-dogs bark;
Whither the subtle maid lines brings and
carries;

Why she alone in empty bed oft tarries.

*hale] Spelt in old eds. "haole."-Here we have a most awkward version of,

"Ah, quoties sani capitis mentita dolores,
Cunctantem tardo jussit abire pede!"

tbe] So ed. B.-Ed. C "by."

how much she might] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had "quantumque licebat."

§ ga' she] Old eds. "gaue she."

Oft cozen me] Marlowe's copy of Ovid had **: Sæpe face insidias."

Fat love, and too much fulsome] "Pinguis amor, nimiumque patens" [our poet's copy most probably having potens]

**While Juno 18 keeps

Jove lik'd her better

tt Whatever kaps, &c,]

Rendered according to the tenses in the original. Marlowe's copy of Ovid had

"Quodlibet eveniat, nocet indulgentia nobis."
tt Whither] Old eds. "Whether."—" Quo."

Let this care sometimes bite thee to the quick,
That to deceits it may me forward prick.
To steal sands from the shore he loves a-life,*
That can affect + a foolish wittol's wife.
Now I forewarn, unless to keep her stronger
Thou dost begin, she shall be mine no longer.
Long have I borne much, hoping time would
beat thee

To guard her well, that well I might entreat thee.‡
Thou suffer'st what no husband can endure;
But of my love it will an end procure.

Shall I, poor soul, be never interdicted?
Nor never with night's sharp revenge afflicted?
In sleeping shall I fearless draw my breath?
Wilt nothing do, why I should wish thy death?
Can I but loathe a husband grown a bawd?
By thy default thou dost our joys defraud.
Some other seek* that may in patience strive
with thee,

To pleasure me, forbid me to corrive‡ with thee.

P. OVIDII NASONIS AMORUM

ELEGIA I.§

LIBER TERTIUS.

Deliberatio poets, utrum elegos pergat scribere an potius

tragœdias.

AN old wood stands, uncut of long years' space : 'Tis credible some god-head|| haunts the place; In midst thereof a stone-pav'd sacred spring, Where round about small birds most sweetly sing.

Here while I walk, hid close in shady grove,
To find what work my Muse might move, I
strove.¶

Elegia came with hairs perfumèd sweet,
And one, I think, was longer, of her feet:
A decent form, thin robe, a lover's look; **
By her foot's blemish greater grace she took.
Then with huge steps came violent Tragedy:
Stern was her front, her cloak on ground did
lie; ++

Her left hand held abroad a regal sceptre;
The Lydian buskin in fit paces §§ kept her.

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And first she§ said, "When will thy love be spent,

O poet careless of thy argument?
Wine-bibbing banquets tell thy naughtiness,
Each cross-way's corner doth as much express.
Oft some points at the prophet passing by,
And This is he whom fierce love burns,' they

cry.

A laughing-stock thou art to all the city,
While without shame thou sing'st thy lewdness'

ditty.

'Tis time to move grave things in lofty style; Long hast thou loiter'd; greater works compile. The subject hides thy wit:|| men's acts resound; This thou wilt say to be a worthy ground. Thy Muse hath play'd what may mild girls content,

And by those numbers is thy first youth spent.
Now give the Roman Tragedy a name;

To fill my laws thy wanton spirit frame."
This said, she mov'd her buskins gaily varnish'd,
And seven times ¶ shook her head with thick

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