Epistulae

Ovid

Ovid. The Epistles of Ovid. London: J. Nunn, 1813.

by Phrygian perfidy, will then fly in your face. The mournful image of your forsaken wife will stand before your eyes, disconsolate and bloody, with hair disheveled. You will then own that you have met with your deserved fate, and think each flash of lightning aimed at you. Delay for a time your cruel flight, and tempt not the raging sea: a safe voyage will be the certain reward of your stay. If you are regardless of me, yet think of tender Iulus. It is enough for you to be branded as the cause of my death. What has Ascanius, what have the Gods deserved, that they who have so lately escaped the flames, should be exposed to perish amidst the waves? But neither do you bring your Gods with you; nor, as you falsely boasted, did your shoulders bear these sacred reliques, and a father, through flames and danger. You deceived me in all; nor am I the first credulous fool deluded by that perjured tongue, or the first who have suffered from a rash belief. If we ask after the mother of beautiful Iulus, we find that she fell deserted by a cruel and hard-hearted husband. These things you yourself related, and yet they made no impression: go on to torment me, since I so much deserve it; your punishment will be the less, be-