Put my hands into bonds — they have deserved chains — While all my madness departs, be present, if any friend is here!
For madness moved rash arms against my mistress; my girl, hurt by my mad hand, is weeping.
At that time, I could have violated even my dear parents, or have brought cruel lashes even against the holy gods!
§1.7.7Quid? non et clipei dominus septemplicis Aiax
What?
§1.7.8Stravit deprensos lata per arva greges, §1.7.9Et, vindex in matre patris, malus ultor, Orestes §1.7.10Ausus in arcanas poscere tela deas?
Did not Ajax, the lord of the sevenfold shield, also lay low the captured flocks through the wide fields, and did not Orestes, the avenger of his father upon his mother, a bitter punisher, dare to demand weapons against the mysterious goddesses?
§1.7.11Ergo ego digestos potui laniare capillos?
Could I, then, tear her well-arranged hair?
§1.7.12Nec dominam motae dedecuere comae.
Nor did the disheveled hair misbecome my mistress.
§1.7.13Sic formosa fuit.
Thus she was beautiful.
talem Schoeneida dicam §1.7.14Maenalias arcu sollicitasse feras; §1.7.15Talis periuri promissaque velaque Thesei §1.7.16Flevit praecipites Cressa tulisse Notos; §1.7.17Sic, nisi vittatis quod erat Cassandra capillis, §1.7.18Procubuit templo, casta Minerva, tuo.
I would say that the daughter of Schoeneus was such when she pursued the Maenalian wild beasts with her bow; such was the Cretan maiden when she wept that the swift South Winds had carried away the promises and sails of the perjured Theseus; thus, except for the fact that Cassandra had her hair bound with sacred headbands, she fell prostrate, chaste Minerva, in your temple.
§1.7.19Quis mihi non 'demens!' quis non mihi 'barbare!' dixit?
Who did not say to me "madman!"? Who did not say to me "barbarian!"?
§1.7.20Ipsa nihil; pavido est lingua retenta metu.
She herself said nothing; her tongue was held back by trembling fear.
But her silent face nevertheless made reproaches; with silent mouth she accused me as a defendant with her tears.
I would have wished my arms to have fallen first from my shoulders; Usefully could I have gone without a part of myself.
I held mad strength to my own ruin, and being strong, I exerted power to my own punishment.
§1.7.27Quid mihi vobiscum, caedis scelerumque ministrae?
What have I to do with you, ministers of slaughter and crimes?
§1.7.28Debita sacrilegae vincla subite manus!
Enter the deserved bonds, sacrilegious hands!
§1.7.29An, si pulsassem minimum de plebe Quiritem, §1.7.30Plecterer — in dominam ius mihi maius erit?
Or, if I had struck the lowest Roman citizen from the common people, I would be punished — shall I have a greater right against my mistress?
§1.7.31Pessima Tydides scelerum monimenta reliquit.
The son of Tydeus left behind the worst monuments of crimes.
§1.7.32Ille deam primus perculit — alter ego!
He was the first to strike a goddess — I am the second!
§1.7.33Et minus ille nocens.
And he was less guilty.
mihi, quam profitebar amare §1.7.34Laesa est; Tydides saevus in hoste fuit.
To me, she whom I professed to love was hurt; the son of Tydeus was cruel against an enemy.
§1.7.35I nunc, magnificos victor molire triumphos, §1.7.36Cinge comam lauro votaque redde Iovi, §1.7.37Quaeque tuos currus comitantum turba sequetur, §1.7.38Clamet 'io! forti victa puella viro est!'
Go now, victor, prepare magnificent triumphs, encircle your hair with laurel and pay your vows to Jupiter, and let the crowd that follows accompanying your chariot shout: "Io!
A girl has been conquered by a brave man!" Let the sad captive go before with disheveled hair, completely fair, if her bruised cheeks would allow it.
It would have been more fitting for her lips to be bruised with deep kisses, and for her neck to bear the mark of a gentle tooth.
§1.7.43Denique, si tumidi ritu torrentis agebar, §1.7.44Caecaque me praedam fecerat ira suam, §1.7.45Nonne satis fuerat timidae inclamasse puellae, §1.7.46Nec nimium rigidas intonuisse minas, §1.7.47Aut tunicam summa deducere turpiter ora §1.7.48Ad mediam? — mediae zona tulisset opem.
In short, if I was driven in the manner of a swollen torrent, and blind anger had made me its prey, would it not have been enough to have shouted at the timid girl, and to have thundered threats that were not too harsh, Or to have shamefully torn down her tunic from its top edge to her waist? — the belt of her waist would have brought help.
But now, I had the heart, after tearing her hair from her forehead, iron-hearted, to scratch her noble cheeks with my nail.
She stood stunned, with a white and bloodless face, just like the marble that is cut from the Parian hills.
§1.7.53Exanimis artus et membra trementia vidi — §1.7.54Ut cum populeas ventilat aura comas, §1.7.55Ut leni Zephyro gracilis vibratur harundo, §1.7.56Summave cum tepido stringitur unda Noto;
I saw her lifeless limbs and trembling frame — just as when the breeze stirs the poplar leaves, as when a slender reed is shaken by a gentle Zephyr, or when the surface of the wave is skimmed by the warm South Wind.
And tears, held back for a long time, flowed down her face, just as water flows from melted snow.
§1.7.59Tunc ego me primum coepi sentire nocentem — §1.7.60Sanguis erant lacrimae, quas dabat illa, meus.
Then I first began to feel myself guilty — the tears she was shedding were my own blood.
Yet three times I wished to fall prostrate as a suppliant before her feet; three times she pushed back my feared hands.
But you, do not hesitate — revenge will lessen the pain — to scratch my face with your nails immediately.
Spare neither my eyes nor my hair; anger helps hands, however weak they are.