P. Ovidius Naso, The Epistles of Ovid

For, when this fury abates, I am informed of all; and silent feel that conscious love rages in my breast. Perhaps, I am urged to this love by the fate of my blood, and Venus exacts this tribute of all our race. Jupiter loved Europa (hence the first rise of our family) disguising the god under the form of a bull. Pasiphae my mother, enjoyed by a deluded bull, was in time delivered of her guilty load. Perfidious Theseus, guided by the faithful thread, escaped by my sister's help the deluding labyrinth. Lo, I too, that I might not belie the race of Minos, yield the last to the powerful laws of my blood. Surely it was our destiny; one house gained the inclinations of both. I am charmed with your shape and appearance; my sister yielded to the attractions of your father. Theseus and his son have triumphed over two sister nymphs. Raise trophies of your victory over our race. Oh how I wish that I had been wandering in the fields of Crete, when first I saw you enter Eleusis, the city of Ceres! It was then chiefly (yet even before that time you had charmed me), that the penetrating flame of love raged in my bones. White was your robe; your hair was adorned

with a garland; a modest blush had overspread your comely face. That countenance which appears, to others, stern and fierce, was in Phædra's eyes noble and full of manly courage. I hate youths fond of dress and a female nicety: a manly form requires little fashioning. That sternness, those careless locks, and noble face stained with dust, are becoming. Whether you bend in the fiery steed's reluctant neck, I am delighted to see him wheeling in the narrow ring; or if with vigorous arm you dart the heavy spear, still my eyes watch the manly throw. Or do you brandish the hunting-spear of broad-pointed steel? In fine, every thing you do gives me delight. Leave your cruelty to the woods and mountains; nor let me, undeserving of such a fate, perish for your sake. What pleasure can it give to be wholly taken up in the exercises of Diana, and deny Venus the vows and engagements due to her? What admits no interval of rest cannot subsist long. Rest renews our strength, and refreshes our wearied limbs. The bow (and surely the arms of your favorite goddess may furnish an example for your imitation), if always bent, will lose its force. Cephalus was famed in the woods; by his hand were many wild beasts slain; yet he was no enemy to the delights of love. Aurora wisely forsook old age for him. Oft, under a spreading oak, were Venus and Adonis seated on the yielding grass. Meleager too burned for Areadian Atalanta: she, as a pledge of his love, enjoyed the spoils of the Calydonian boar. Let us also be now first joined to this glorious crowd. If you banish love, the forest will be turned into a desert.