Carmina

Then gifts to the gods not unpleasing, not idly given, with promise from tight-closed lips did she address her vows. For as an oak waving its boughs on Taurus' top, or a coniferous pine with sweating stem, is uprooted by savage storm, twisting its trunk with its blast (dragged from its roots prone it falls afar, breaking all in the line of its fall) so did Theseus fling down the conquered body of the brute, tossing its horns in vain towards the skies. Thence backwards he retraced his steps amidst great laud, guiding his errant footsteps by means of a tenuous thread, lest when coming out from tortuous labyrinthines his efforts be frustrated by unobservant wandering. But why, turned aside from my first story, should I recount more, how the daughter fleeing her father's face, her sister's embrace, and even her mother's, who despairingly bemoaned her lost daughter, preferred to all these the sweet love of Theseus; or how borne by their boat to the spumy shores of Dia she came; or how her husband with unmemoried breast forsaking her, left her bound in the shadows of sleep? And oft, so it is said, with her heart burning with fury she poured out clarion cries from depths of her bosom, then sadly scaled the rugged mounts, whence she could cast her glance over the vast seething ocean, then ran into the opposing billows of the heaving sea, raising from her bared legs her clinging raiment, and in uttermost plight of woe with tear-stained face and chilly sobs she spoke thus:—

“Is it thus, O perfidious, when dragged from my motherland's shores, is it thus, O false Theseus, that you leave me on this desolate strand? thus do you depart unmindful of slighted godheads, bearing home your perjured vows? Was no thought able to bend the intent of your ruthless mind? had you no clemency there, that your pitiless bowels might show me compassion? But these were not the promises you gave me idly of old, this was not what you bade me hope for, but the blithe bride-bed, hymenaeal happiness: all empty air, blown away by the breezes. Now, now, let no woman give credence to man's oath, let none hope for faithful vows from mankind; for while their eager desire strives for its end, nothing fear they to swear, nothing of promises forbear they: but instantly their lusting thoughts are satiate with lewdness, nothing of speech they remember, nothing of perjuries care. In truth I snatched you from the midst of the whirlpool of death, preferring to suffer the loss of a brother rather than fail your need in the supreme hour, O ingrate. For which I shall be a gift as prey to be rent by wild beasts and the carrion-fowl, nor dead shall I be placed in the earth, covered with funeral mound. What lioness bore you beneath lonely crag? What sea conceived and spued you from its foamy crest? What Syrtis, what grasping Scylla, what vast Charybdis? O you repayer with such rewards for your sweet life! If it was not your heart's wish to yoke with me, through holding in horror the dread decrees of my stern sire, yet you could have led me to your home, where as your handmaid I might have served you with cheerful service, laving your snowy feet with clear water, or spreading the purple coverlet over your couch. Yet why, distraught with woe, do I vainly lament to the unknowing winds, which unfurnished with sense, can neither hear uttered complaints nor can return them? For now he has sped away into the midst of the seas, nor does any mortal appear along this desolate seaboard. Thus with overweening scorn bitter Fate in my extreme hour even grudges ears to my complaints. All-powerful Jupiter! would that in old time the Cecropian ships had not touched at the Gnossan shores, nor that the false mariner, bearing the direful ransom to the unquelled bull, had bound his ropes to Crete, nor that yonder wretch hiding ruthless designs beneath sweet seemings had reposed as a guest in our halls! For whither may I flee? in what hope, O lost one, take refuge? Shall I climb the Idomenean crags? but the truculent sea stretching far off with its whirlings of waters separates us. Dare I hope for help from my father, whom I deserted to follow a youth besprinkled with my brother's blood? Can I crave comfort from the care of a faithful husband, who is fleeing with yielding oars, encurving amidst whirling waters? If I turn from the beach there is no roof in this tenantless island, no way shows a passage, circled by waves of the sea; no way of flight, no hope; all denotes dumbness, desolation, and death. Nevertheless my eyes shall not be dimmed in death, nor my senses secede from my spent frame, until I have besought from the gods a just penalty for my betrayal, and implored the faith of the celestials with my last breath. Wherefore you requiters of men's deeds with avenging pains, O Eumenides, whose front enwreathed with serpent-locks blazons the wrath exhaled from your bosom, come here, here, listen to my complaint, which I, sad wretch, am urged to outpour from my innermost marrow, helpless, burning, and blind with frenzied fury. And since in truth they spring from the very depths of my heart, be unwilling to allow my agony to pass unheeded, but with such mind as Theseus forsook me, with like mind, O goddesses, may he bring evil on himself and on his kin.”