Browsing named entities in P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various).
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Arriv'd at court, I found the palace rooms Adorn'd with hangings made in costly looms; Fair maids I met, that mov'd with heavenly grace, And young men, walking with a lusty pace; Old men I saw, too, but I could not dream What service Venus could receive from them. Pensive I stood, and fearful to be seen, Till one I spied belonging to the queen, Call'd Philomel; I knew her once a maid, But all her life she lov'd. "My friend (she said) Welcome to Cupid's court; but you, I fear, Receiv'd from Mer
h sorrow I repent,
Wretch that I am, a life so vainly spent."
And having spoke, by her I straight was led
To a vast hall, with various carpets spread,
And cloth of gold; on which I wondering found
A throne of state, erected from the ground,
Where Venus sat, with her imperial son;
Each had a sceptre and a radiant crown.
To see their pomp, I could till now have stood
Thoughtless of drink, and destitute of food;
The pleasures of the fam'd Elysian field
Can no such rapture to a stranger yield.
We all obey'd the words that Rigour spoke; Devoutly, slow and easy steps we took; Entring the temple, which fam'd artists built, Soft was the front, the lovely roof was gilt; The cheerful quire with well carv'd work was lin'd, And am'rous painting on the pillars shin'd. There Dido, that unhappy dying queen, With false Aeneas, in one piece was seen; And other pictures round the walls were spread, Of men and minds, for love untimely dead. Rais'd in the middle aisle, fond souls to awe, A golden image of the queen we saw; This all adorn'd; some looking fresh and fair, Some worn with grief, or blasted by despair; Some in new mantles dress'd, and some in old, Like half starv'd beggars, ugly to behold. Some pale as death appear'd, some glow'd like fire, Confessing to their inward fierce desire: These with their loud complaints the queen besought To cure those ills that cruel love had wrought; And punish all such authors of their woes, As mock'd their sufferings, or had broke their vows. But
She answer'd, " Friend, your service I disclaim; Who are you, pray? whence come you? what's your name?" "Men call me Celadon, in verse I write, And songs at home with some applause indite; Oh, why is every flower and pleasing root That in the Muses' happy garden shoot, Denied me now? and why must I despair, With sweets of verse to charm the brightest fair? Thou gentle muse, my humble breast inspire With sacred numbers and celestial fire; And, Pallas, thy propitious light convey, To chase the mist of ignorance away!" "Peace, rhyming fool, and learn henceforth to make A fitter choice; your woman you mistake." "0 mercy, Venus! mercy from above! Why would you curse me with such hopeless love? Behold the most abandon'd soul on earth; Ill was I got, and woful was my birth. Unless some pity on my pains you shed, The frosty grave will quickly be my bed." Thus having spoke, my breath began to fail, My colour sunk, and turned like ashes pale; I swoon'd, and down I fell. " Thou slave arise (Crie