Yet if any writings wander with dark blots, the little book will have been stained by its mistress's slaughter.
My right hand holds the pen, the other holds the drawn blade, and the loose sheet of paper lies in my lap.
This is the image of the daughter of Aeolus writing to her brother; thus I seem to be able to please my harsh father.
I could wish he himself were present as a spectator of my death, and the deed were carried out before the eyes of its author!
Brutal as he is, and much more savage than his own East Winds, he would have watched our wounds with dry cheeks.
To be sure, it is something to live with savage winds; he conforms to the character of his own people.
He rules the South Wind, the West Wind, and the Sithonian North Wind, and commands, impudent East Wind, your wings.
Alas! He rules the winds, but he does not rule his swelling anger, and he possesses a kingdom smaller than his own vices.
What does it profit to be raised to heaven through the names of ancestors, and to be able to count Jove among one's kinsmen?
Do I hold any less, in my female hand, the hostile iron, a funeral gift, weapons not mine?
Oh would that, Macareus, the hour which joined us together had come later than my death!
§11.23Cur umquam plus me, frater, quam frater amasti, §11.24Et tibi, non debet quod soror esse, fui?
Why, brother, did you ever love me more than a brother should, and why was I to you what a sister ought not to be?
I too grew warm, and felt in my glowing heart some god, such as I was accustomed to hear of.
§11.27Fugerat ore color; macies adduxerat artus; §11.28Sumebant minimos ora coacta cibos; §11.29Nec somni faciles et nox erat annua nobis, §11.30Et gemitum nullo laesa dolore dabam.
Color had fled from my face; thinness had drawn in my limbs; my forced mouth took only the smallest food; my sleep was not easy, and the night was a year long to me, and I uttered groans though hurt by no bodily pain.
§11.31Nec, cur haec facerem, poteram mihi reddere causam §11.32Nec noram, quid amans esset; at illud eram.
Nor could I give myself a reason why I did these things, nor did I know what it was to be in love; yet that is what I was.
§11.33Prima malum nutrix animo praesensit anili; §11.34Prima mihi nutrix 'Aeoli,' dixit, 'amas!' §11.35Erubui, gremioque pudor deiecit ocellos; §11.36Haec satis in tacita signa fatentis erant.
First my nurse with her aged mind perceived the trouble; first my nurse said to me: "Daughter of Aeolus, you are in love!" I blushed, and shame cast down my eyes into my lap; these signs were enough for one who confesses in silence.
And soon the heavy weight of my injured womb began to swell, and the secret burden weighed down my sick limbs.
§11.39Quas mihi non herbas, quae non medicamina nutrix §11.40Attulit audaci supposuitque manu, §11.41Ut penitus nostris — hoc te celavimus unum — §11.42Visceribus crescens excuteretur onus?
What herbs, what medicines did my nurse not bring and apply with a bold hand, so that the growing burden might be utterly driven out from our womb—this one thing we hid from you?
Ah, the too-vigorous infant resisted the arts applied and was safe from his hidden enemy!
Already the most beautiful sister of Phoebus had risen nine times, and the new Moon was driving her light-bringing horses.
Ignorant of what cause was making these sudden pains for me, and unskilled in childbirth, I was a raw recruit.
§11.49Nec tenui vocem.
Nor did I restrain my voice.
'quid,' ait, 'tua crimina prodis?' §11.50Oraque clamantis conscia pressit anus.
"Why do you betray your crimes?" she said, and the complicit old woman pressed the mouth of the screaming girl.
§11.51Quid faciam infelix? gemitus dolor edere cogit,
What should I do, unhappy one?
§11.52Sed timor et nutrix et pudor ipse vetant.
Pain forces me to utter groans, but fear and my nurse and shame itself forbid it.
I hold back my groans and check the words that slip out, and am forced to drink in my own tears.
§11.55Mors erat ante oculos, et opem Lucina negabat — §11.56Et grave, si morerer, mors quoque crimen erat — §11.57Cum super incumbens scissa tunicaque comaque §11.58Pressa refovisti pectora nostra tuis, §11.59Et mihi 'vive, soror, soror o carissima,' dixti; §11.60'Vive nec unius corpore perde duos!
Death was before my eyes, and Lucina denied her aid— and, if I were to die, death too was a grave crime— when you, leaning over me with torn tunic and hair, warmed again our pressed breast with yours, and said to me: "Live, sister, oh most beloved sister; Live, and do not destroy two lives in the body of one!
§11.61Spes bona det vires; fratri nam nupta futura es.
Let good hope give you strength; for you are to be wedded to your brother.
§11.62Illius, de quo mater, et uxor eris. '
You will also be the wife of him, by whom you are a mother."