Epistulae
Ovid
Ovid. The Epistles of Ovid. London: J. Nunn, 1813.
joyed to recover a son who had so long been lost; and grateful Troy adds this day also to her festivals. And, as I now languish for you, so did the beauties of Troy for me: you alone reign over my heart, for which many sighed in vain. Nor was I only desired by the daughters of kings and heroes: I was also the darling and care of heaven-born Nymphs. But all these, Tyndaris, met with a return of cold disdain, when the hopes of your embrace had fired my breast. All the day fancy placed you before my eyes; at night too, when my eyes were sealed by gentle sleep, you stood before me in my dreams. What surprise then must your presence give, whose absent image so far occupied my thoughts? I was consumed with the flame, though it scorched at so great a distance. Nor was I able to restrain my ardent hopes from seeking the desired object through the blue ocean. The stately Trojan pines were cut down with a Phrygian axe, and every tree that was fittest to plough the yielding deep. The steep Gargarean summits were despoiled of their lofty woods; and spacious Ida furnished
me with the finest planks. Stiff oaks were bent to form the doubling hold, and the rising sides were knit with jointed ribs. Sails and sail-yards were added to the lofty masts; and the bending stern was adorned with painted Gods. On my own ship stood the Goddess, who promised to make me happy in your embraces; accompanied by her little son Cupid.
The fleet being thus completely prepared, I longed to traverse the wide Ægean sea. My father and mother opposed their entreaties to my desires, and with pious requests withstood my intended voyage. Cassandra too, my sister, with loose and disordered locks, just as the ships were ready to set sail, ex-claimed, Whither do you hurry without thought, to bring back fire and destruction? Alas! you little think what raging flames threaten us from beyond these seas. True were her predictions: I have felt the threatened fires; tyrannic love rages in my yielding breast. Yet I set sail, and, urged by propitious gales, arrived,