Epistulae

you could have viewed me from the stern of your ship, the mournful figure had surely moved compassion. As you cannot now observe me with your eyes, only imagine me to yourself, hanging over a frightful rock, undermined by the waves that dash against it below. Consider me with my hair disheveled, and carelessly spread over my disconsolate face; behold my clothes heavy with tears, as from a shower. My body trembles like corn shaken by the north winds; and the letters proceed unequal from my faltering hand. I do not urge you now by my merit, since my favors were so ill bestowed, nor expect any retribution, as due to my kind offices: but then, what pretence have you for ill usage? Had I not contributed in the smallest degree to your safety, even this is no reason why you should be the cause of my death. To thee wretched Ariadne stretches over the wide sea her hands, faint with often beating her sorrowful breast. Disconsolate as I am, I remind you of the few mangled tresses that yet remain. I conjure you, by the tears shed for your cruel departure, turn your ship, dear Theseus, and bear back your inverted sails. If I die ere you arrive, you may yet collect my scattered bones.

IF any of these lines should appear stained and obscured by blots, know that they will be occasioned by the death of the writer. My right hand holds the pen, my left a drawn sword; and the paper lies unfolded in my lap. This is the true picture of Canace writing to her brother: it is only in this manner, it seems, that I can satisfy a hard-hearted father. I could wish him to be a spectator of my untimely death, that the blow might be given in the presence of a

stern father who commanded it. Fierce, and far more cruel than his eastern ministers of storms, he would view without a tear the mortal wound. For it is infectious to live with savage winds; and therefore he contracts the temper of his people. He commands the South, the Zephyr, and the northern blasts of Thrace; and, surly East, he checks thy rigid wing. He controls indeed the winds; but, alas! he has no power over his own unmeasurable wrath, and governs a kingdom less intractable than his own vices. What avails it that I am allied to the Gods above, that Jupiter is in the number of my kindred? does it snatch from my trembling hind the destructive steel, that fatal gift and weapon, alas, unfit for me! O Macareus, I wish that the hour which joined us had

come later than that of my death! Why, brother, did you ever love me otherwise than as a brother? And why did I regard you more than became a sister? For I also felt the powerful flame, and perceived I know not what God taking possession of my glowing heart; but such as I had often heard described. The color had forsaken my cheeks; a leanness had spread itself over all my joints; and my mouth took with reluctance even the smallest food. No gentle slumbers refreshed me; the nights seemed tedious and lingering; and I often sighed to myself, though no apparent grief oppressed me. I could not give any reason why I was thus disconsolate; nor, though in love myself, did I know what it was to love. My aged nurse first divined the growing mischief; and, wise through years, first told me that it was love. I blushed; and, full of shame, fixed my eyes upon my bosom; signs which, accompanied with silence, too clearly testified my confession. And now my womb swelled with the guilty load, and the growing weight pressed my sickly limbs. What herbs, what me-

dicines and not my nurse procure, and with her impious hands apply, that the increasing load (this alone we hid from thee) might be entirely discharged? But, alas! the tenacious infant too well withstood our best artifices, securely screened from all hostile attacks. And now the splendid sister of Phœbus had nine times completed her course, and the tenth moon was guiding forward her light-revolving steeds; when some unknown cause afflicted me with sudden pangs. I was a stranger to the movements of child-bearing, and a mere novice in this kind of discipline. I suppressed not my cries, "What!" said my nurse, "do you thus openly proclaim your guilt?" And, knowing the cause of my complaint, she stopped my mouth with her hand. What could I do in that unhappy case? Pain urged my groans; but shame, fear, and my nurse, pressed me to silence.

I nevertheless strove to repress my groans, and struggled with my cries; and was forced to drink the tears that trickled from my eyes. Death seemed to hover round me; Lucina refused her aid; and even death was a grievous crime, had I then expired: when entering with thy hair and garments torn, my bosom cherishing close pressed to thine, thou saidst, Live, my sister, O live, my dearest sister; nor rashly destroy two lives in one. Strengthen yourself by hope; for you shall soon be wedded to your brother, and become the wife of him by whom you have been made a mother. Though taint, and almost dead, yet (believe it) your words revived me; and the guilty load sprang forward from my womb.

Why do you rejoice at this danger over? In the mid-hall sits Æolus; and from a parent's eyes our crimes must be concealed. The cunning old nurse shrouds the babe with leaves, white olive boughs, and holy fillets; and while she feigns sacred rites, and mutters prayers, the people, and even my father, make way for the solemnity. And now she had almost reached the threshold, when the infant's cry invades my father's ears; by its own evidence, alas! betrayed. Instantly he seizes the child, and unveils the feigned solemnity: the palace resounds with his raging voice. As the sea quivers when brushed by the curling breeze, or a tall ash when shaken by the stormy south-wind; so you might see my pale limbs shiver with fear, and the bed shake under my trembling body. Æolus rushes in with violence, and publishes my shame by his clamors: hardly could he restrain his hands from my face. I, overwhelmed with conscious guilt, answered only by my tears; fear had bound up my frozen tongue. And now he commanded his little grandchild to be thrown out a prey to dogs and hungry birds, and left in some solitary place. The helpless babe cried out, as if he understood his doom, and conjured his grandfather with what voice he could. Imagine, dear brother, what anguish of soul I must then feel, (for you

may easily guess the state of my mind by your own,) to hear my bowels doomed in my presence a prey to mountain-wolves, and the savage beasts of the woods. My father left me: then was I at liberty to beat my breast, and wound my checks with my nails. Meantime a messenger came from my father, his countenance sad, and his words full of cruelty. Æolus sends thee this sword (he then gave the sword into my hand), and says, that the sense of thy own demerits will teach thee what it means. I know what it means; and will boldly urge the piercing steel: my father's gift shall be treasured in my breast. Are these the gifts with which a father graces my nuptials? Is this the dower with which you enrich your daughter? Deluded Hymenæus, remove far hence the nuptial torch, and fly with hurry and trepidation from this detested place. Let the hideous Furies bring hither their internal brands, that, kindled up by them, my funeral pile may blaze. Do you, my sisters, wed, blessed with more propitious fate; but, warned, be ever mindful of my crime. What has my infant son, so

lately born, committed? What could one scarcely brought forth do to offend his grandfather? If it were possible for him to have deserved so hard a fate, let him be thought to have deserved it. Alas, unhappy balse, you suffer for the guilt to your mother! O my darling son, to be your mother's grief, and the prey of wild beasts! alas! doomed to be destroyed on the very day of your birth; ill-fated babe, the mournful pledge of our unhappy loves; this was your first day of life, this also must be your last! I was not allowed to shed over you a mother's tears, or offer upon your sepulchre my shora hair. I did not hang over thy lifeless frame, or snatch from thy mouth the cold kisses. My bowels, alas! are made a prey to savage beasts. But I will soon follow by this wound thy infant shade: not long a mother, nor long shall I be called childless. But thou, in vain, alas! thy wretched sister's hope, fail not to gather up the scattered members of thy son; bear them to his fond mother's grave, and unite them with her in the social tomb: let the same urn, though small, contain us

both. Live ever mindful of your Canace, and shed some tears over my wound: nor fear to touch the breathless body of one whom you loved. Fulfil these last commands of thy hapless sister; and I will execute the cruel mandates of my unrelenting sire.

WELL I remember that, though queen of Colchis, I found leisure to provide for your safety, when you requested the help of my art. Then, if ever, the Sisters, who measure out the thread of human life, ought to have finished the number of my days. Then might Medea have died honorably. Life ever since has been a series of woes. Alas! why did the Thessalian bark, manned by a

troop of resolute youths, sail in quest of the golden fleece? why did Argo come within sight of Colchis, or a Grecian band drink of the water of Phasis? why was I so much pleased with your golden locks, your personal attractions, and the dissembled eloquence of your enchanting tongue? Doubtless, (as a strange ship had arrived on our coast, and landed a set of bold enterprising youths.) ungrateful Jason should have been left to rush, unfortified with spells, upon the glowing nostrils of the fire-breathing bulls, and dare their lofty looks: he should have been left to sow the serpent's teeth, and feel the arms of his numerous foes; that the forward cultivator might thus have fallen by his own harvest.

Perjured wretch! how much perfidy had been prevented by your fall! how many heart-piercing griefs might I have escaped! It is some relief to upbraid the ungrateful with the favors which they have received. This I can still enjoy; and it is indeed the only pleasure you have now left me. Commanded by your uncle to sail to Colchis with the unproved ship, you entered the happy kingdom of my native land. There Medea held the same place which your new bride holds here: my father, in wealth and dominion, came not short of her's. He rules over Corinth placed between two seas: my father commands all that part of snowy Scythia, which runs along the left-side of the Euxine sea. Æetes gave a kind and noble reception to the Pelasgian youths, and placed them on richly embroidered couches. It was then I first saw you, and understood who you were; that was the dreadful day of ruin to my quiet and peace of mind. How did I gaze, how did I imbibe the fatal poison, and burn with fires I had not felt before, like a pine-torch when lighted up at the sacrifices of the

Gods! You were beautiful and charming, and my unhappy destiny pushed me on; my eyes remained continually fixed upon your's. Base man, you too clearly perceived it; for who was ever discrete enough to hide love? A flame that betrays itself by its own light. In the mean time the law of victory is laid down, that you train to the unusual plough the unbroken necks of the fierce bulls. These bulls, sacred to Mars, were not only terrible by their horns: they breathed out streams of flame. Their feet were guarded with brazen hoofs; plates of brass also covered their nostrils, which were rendered black by their glowing breath. You are farther required to scatter over the wide fields, with devoted hand, seed that will suddenly bring forth a harvest of men, who will attack you with their self-born darts; a crop fatal to the laborer. Your last and greatest toil is, artfully to elude the eyes of the watchful dragon; eyes, unacquainted with the power of sleep. Here Æetes ended. You all rise up sad; the table is removed, and stripped of the purple carpets.

Where was then the kingdom you receive as a dowry with Creusa? how little was your father-in-law, or the daughter of mighty Creon then in your thoughts? You left us thoughtful: I followed your departing steps with eyes moistened in tears; and my tongue in a soft accent bade you farewell. When with a heart fatally wounded I had retired to my quiet bed, the whole night was spent in shedding floods of tears. The fierce bulls and threatening crop of armed men stood before my eyes; but most I was haunted by the image of the watchful dragon. On the one side was love, on the other fear: but fear served only to augment my love. It was now morning, when my darling sister entered my chamber, and found me lying upon my face, my hair disheveled, and the bed under me wet with my tears. She entreats me in behalf of the Argonauts: one asks, and another shall reap the fruit: she craves that aid which I freely grant to the young son of Æson. There is a grove where a darksome shade is formed by pitch-trees and leafy oaks; scarcely can the rays of the sun find admittance. Here had long