parce, precor, precor. non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cinarae. desine, dulcium mater saeva Cupidinum, circa lustra decem flectere mollibus iam durum imperiis: abi, quo blandae iuvenum te revocant preces. tempestivius in domum Pauli, purpureis ales oloribus, comissabere Maximi, si torrere iecur quaeris idoneum. namque et nobilis et decens et pro sollicitis non tacitus reis et centum puer artium late signa feret militiae tuae; 10 34 BOOK IV ODE I Venus, Forbear! men THE Contests long suspended thou, Venus, wouldst renew. Be merciful, I beg, I beg! I am not as I was under the sway of kindly Cinara. O cruel mother of sweet Cupids, strive no more to bend, when near fifty years are past, one now callous to thy soft commands! Hie thee rather to the place where the persuasive prayers of young call. More suitably, on wings of purple swans, shalt thou haste in joyous revelry to the house of Paulus Maximus, if thou dost seek to kindle a fitting heart. For noble is he and comely, an eloquent defender of anxious clients, a youth accomplished in a hundred arts; and he will bear the standard of thy service far and wide. And when prevailing et quandoque potentior largi muneribus riserit aemuli, Albanos prope te lacus ponet marmoream sub trabe citrea. 20 illic plurima naribus duces tura lyraeque et Berecyntiae delectabere tibiae mixtis carminibus non sine fistula ; illic bis pueri die numen cum teneris virginibus tuum laudantes pede candido in morem Salium ter quatient humum. me nec femina nec puer iam nec spes animi credula mutui nec certare iuvat mero nec vincire novis tempora floribus. nocturnis ego somniis iam captum teneo, iam volucrem sequor te per gramina Martii Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubilis. 30 40 o'er the gifts of some lavish rival he shall laugh in triumph, beside the Alban lakes he'll set thy marble statue beneath a roof of citron wood. Abounding incense shalt thou there inhale, and shalt take delight in the mingled strains of lyre and Berecyntian flute; nor shall the pipe be lacking. There twice each day shall boys, with maidens tender, hymning thy majesty, beat the ground with snowy feet, in triple time after the Salian fashion. Me nor lad nor maid can more delight, nor trustful hope of love returned, nor drinking bouts nor temples bound with blossoms new. But why, O Ligurinus, why steals now and then adown my cheek a tear? Why halts my tongue, once eloquent, with unbecoming silence midst my speech? In visions of the night, I now hold thee fast, now follow thee in flight o'er the Campus Martius' sward, now midst the whirling waves, O thou hard of heart! |