§17.1“Iam iam efficaci do manus scientiae, §17.2supplex et oro regna per Proserpinae, §17.3per et Dianae non movenda numina, §17.4per atque libros carminum valentium §17.5refixa caelo devocare sidera, §17.6Canidia: parce vocibus tandem sacris §17.7citumque retro solve, solve turbinem.
“Now, now I yield to your effective science, and as a suppliant I pray by the realms of Proserpina, and by the unmovable divinity of Diana, and by the books of charms capable of calling down the stars unfastened from heaven, Canidia: spare me at last from your sacred words, and reverse, reverse your swiftly spinning wheel.
§17.8movit nepotem Telephus Nereium, §17.9in quem superbus ordinarat agmina §17.10Mysorum et in quem tela acuta torserat.
Telephus moved the Nereid grandson, against whom he had proudly arranged the ranks of the Mysians and against whom he had hurled sharp darts.
§17.11unxere matres Iliae additum feris §17.12alitibus atque canibus homicidam Hectorem, §17.13postquam relictis moenibus rex procidit §17.14heu pervicacis ad pedes Achillei.
The Trojan mothers anointed the manslayer Hector, though destined for wild beasts and birds and dogs, after the king, leaving the walls, fell down, alas, at the feet of obstinate Achilles.
§17.15saetosa duris exuere pellibus §17.16laboriosi remiges Vlixei §17.17volente Circa membra; tunc mens et sonus §17.18relapsus atque notus in voltus honor.
The rowers of labor-worn Ulysses put off their bristly limbs from hard hides, when Circe willed it; then their mind and voice returned, and the well-known dignity to their faces.
I have paid enough and more than enough punishment to you, O woman much loved by sailors and peddlers.
§17.21fugit iuventas et verecundus color §17.22reliquit ossa pelle amicta lurida, §17.23tuis capillus albus est odoribus, §17.24nullum a labore me reclinat otium; §17.25urget diem nox et dies noctem neque est §17.26levare tenta spiritu praecordia.
Youth has fled, and my modest color has left my bones covered only with ghastly skin; my hair is white from your ointments, no leisure releases me from my toil; night presses upon day, and day upon night, nor is it possible to relieve my lungs strained with breathing.
§17.27ergo negatum vincor ut credam miser, §17.28Sabella pectus increpare carmina §17.29caputque Marsa dissilire nenia.
Therefore, wretched, I am forced to believe what I denied: that Sabellian charms can strike the breast, and the head can split from Marsian incantation.
§17.30quid amplius vis? o mare et terra, ardeo, §17.31quantum neque atro delibutus Hercules §17.32Nessi cruore nec Sicana fervida §17.33virens in Aetna flamma; tu, donec cinis §17.34iniuriosis aridus ventis ferar, §17.35cales venenis officina Colchicis.
What more do you want? O sea and earth! I burn, as neither Hercules smeared with the black blood of Nessus, nor the fiery Sicilian flame raging in Etna; you, until I, a dry ash, am carried away by the injurious winds, burn as a laboratory of Colchian poisons.
§17.36quae finis aut quod me manet stipendium?
What end, or what penalty awaits me?
§17.37effare; iussas cum fide poenas luam, §17.38paratus expiare, seu poposceris §17.39centum iuvencos sive mendaci lyra §17.40voles sonare: “tu pudica, tu proba §17.41perambulabis astra sidus aureum. ” §17.42infamis Helenae Castor offensus vice §17.43fraterque magni Castoris, victi prece, §17.44adempta vati reddidere lumina: §17.45et tu, potes nam, solve me dementia, §17.46o nec paternis obsoleta sordibus §17.47neque in sepulcris pauperum prudens anus §17.48novendialis dissipare pulveres.
Speak; I will faithfully pay the ordered penalty, ready to expiate, whether you demand a hundred steers, or wish me to sing on a lying lyre: ‘You, chaste, you, honest, shall walk among the stars as a golden constellation.’ Castor, offended by the insult to infamous Helen, and the brother of great Castor, overcome by prayer, restored the light of sight taken from the poet; and you—for you can—release me from my madness, O you who are neither stained by paternal squalor, nor a skilled old woman at scattering the nine-day ashes in the tombs of the poor.
§17.49tibi hospitale pectus et purae manus §17.50tuosque venter Pactumeius et tuo §17.51cruore rubros obstetrix pannos lavit, §17.52utcumque fortis exsilis puerpera. ” §17.53“quid obseratis auribus fundis preces?
You have a hospitable breast and pure hands, Pactumeius is your son, and the midwife washed the red cloths with your blood, whenever you leap up as a strong mother.” “Why do you pour prayers into locked ears?
The rocks are not more deaf to naked sailors than winter Neptune beats them in the deep sea.
§17.56inultus ut tu riseris Cotytia §17.57volgata, sacrum liberi Cupidinis, §17.58et Esquilini pontifex venefici §17.59inpune ut Vrbem nomine inpleris meo?
Shall you, unpunished, laugh at the Cotyttian rites made public, the sacred mysteries of free Cupid, and as the high priest of Esquiline magic fill the City with my name without paying the penalty?
What did it profit me to have enriched Pelignian hags, or to have mixed a swifter poison?
§17.62sed tardiora fata te votis manent: §17.63ingrata misero vita ducenda est in hoc, §17.64novis ut usque suppetas laboribus.
But a death slower than your prayers awaits you: a hateful life must be led by you, wretched man, for this purpose, that you may always suffice for new torments.
§17.65optat quietem Pelopis infidi pater, §17.66egens benignae Tantalus semper dapis, §17.67optat Prometheus obligatus aliti, §17.68optat supremo collocare Sisyphus §17.69in monte saxum; sed vetant leges Iovis.
The father of faithless Pelops longs for rest, Tantalus, ever lacking the rich banquet; Prometheus bound to the bird longs for it; Sisyphus longs to place the stone on the summit of the mountain; but the laws of Jupiter forbid.
§17.70voles modo altis desilire turribus, §17.71frustraque vincla gutturi innectes tuo §17.72modo ense pectus Norico recludere §17.73fastidiosa tristis aegrimonia.
You will wish at one time to leap down from high towers, and in vain you will bind nooses around your throat, at another to open your breast with a Noric sword, sad with wearying sorrow.
Then I shall ride as a horseman on your hostile shoulders, and the earth will yield to my insolence.
§17.76an quae movere cereas imagines, §17.77ut ipse nosti curiosus, et polo §17.78deripere lunam vocibus possim meis, §17.79possim crematos excitare mortuos §17.80desiderique temperare pocula, §17.81plorem artis in te nil agentis exitus?”
Or shall I, who can move waxen images, as you yourself, curious man, know, and drag down the moon from heaven with my voice, who can raise the cremated dead, and temper the cups of longing, lament the outcome of an art that has no power over you?”