P. Ovidius Naso, The Epistles of Ovid

He, pleased with the omen, fondly kissed me: To your care, says he, I recommend my palace, my kingdom, and the Trojan guest. Scarcely could I refrain from laughter; and, while I strove to stifle it, I would only answer, It shall be so. He, it is true, spread his sails for Crete with a favorable wind; yet do not, from this, fancy yourself wholly secure. My husband, though absent, has still watchful eyes over me. Are you unacquainted with the proverb, that princes have long hands? My fame too is a great obstacle; for the more lavish you are in my praise, the more reasonable ground has he for suspicion. That glory, once so grateful, is now my bane; far better it had been to be less known to fame. Nor wonder at his absence, or that I am here left with you: he trusted to my virtue and unspotted life. My beauty and shape implied danger; but my probity and fame made him secure. You desire me not to lose so fair a season, or neglect the opportunity given by the simple good-natured man. I am willing, but afraid; my resolution is still unfixed, and my breast glows with all the anguish of

suspense. My husband is absent; you pine in a solitary bed, and we are each blest with a form that mutually pleases. The nights are long; we often converse; one house contains us; and you are kind and pressing. Let me die, if all things do not conspire to crown our loves; and yet I do not know what fear still holds me back. It would be better to employ force, than court with words; my bashfulness might have been overcome by a gentle violence. Wrongs are sometimes grateful even to those who suffer them; it is thus I would be made happy by a seeming force: but let us strive rather to suppress in its birth the growing flame; a little water easily extinguishes the kindling spark. Strangers are incapable of a lasting love; their passion wanders like themselves; and while we fondly believe it to be sure and unchanged, all is over. Hypsipyle and the Minoian maid are examples of this, who both were left to

mourn their deserted beds. You too, faithless man, are said to have abandoned Œnone, who had been dear to you for so many years. You must not attempt to deny it; for know, that it has been my care to search narrowly into all. Add, that, were you inclined to a constant faithful love, it is not in your power; already the impatient Trojans prepare your sails. While you are yet in discourse with me, while the wished-for night is assigned, a propitious gale calls you away to your own country. You must abandon the unfinished pursuit, and break asunder our new-felt joys; the relentless winds will bear away my love. Shall I then follow, as you advise, and visit the famed towers of Troy? Shall I become a wife to the grandson of mighty Laomedon? I am not yet so indifferent to the reports of spreading fame, as to suffer it thus to fill the earth with the sound of my reproach. What may Sparta say of me, and all Greece? What the nations of Asia, and even your own Troy? What will Priam, Hecuba, and your brothers think? and what will all the modest Phrygian matrons? And even you, what confidence can you have in my fidelity, or how avoid an anxiety from my compliance in your own case?