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Quin, et Ixion, Tityosque voltu
Audiat Lyde scelus atque notas
Quae manent culpas etiam sub Orco.
Una de multis, face nuptiali
Surge, quae dixit juveni marito,
Surge; ne longus tibi somnus, unde
Non times, detur: socerum et scelestas Falle sorores;
Quae, velut nactae vitulos leaenae,
Me let my father load with cruel fetters
For that, humane, I spared my hapless consort;
Plains of Numidia.
Go where thy feet and where the winds may bear thee,
Editors differ as to whether Neobule is to be regarded as lamenting over a love she must not indulge, or as congratulating herself that her own lot is not as that of women in general. I follow Mr. Macleane is preferring the former theory.
Ан, wretched women, who must needs from amorous play forbear,
Nor yet with bowls of genial wine may wash away their care,
But 'neath an uncle's slashing tongue for ever swooning are!
Thee, Cytherea's wingèd son has, Neobule, reft
Of web and basket; nor with thee, in arts Palladian deft, Has blooming Hebrus aught of taste for such employment left.
Soon as in Tiber's bath he has his oily shoulders shown, A better horseman forth he comes than erst Bellerophon Fine boxer too, nor in the race, as slow of foot, undone.
Me pater saevis oneret catenis,
Quod viro clemens misero peperci:
Me vel extremos Numidarum in agros
I, pedes quo te rapiunt et aurae,
XII. AD NEOBULEN.
MISERARUM est neque amori dare ludum neque dulci
Mala vino lavere, aut exanimari metuentes
Patruae verbera linguae.
Tibi qualum Cythereae puer ales, tibi telas
Operosaeque Minervae studium aufert, Neobule,
Simul unctos Tiberinis humeros lavit in undis,
Neque segni pede victus;
The same, when hunting, and at hand a herd of deer
Spears with sure aim the startled stags athwart the open
Quick too he is wild boar to track, deep in close covert lying.
The researches of Capmartin de Chaupy have placed beyond doubt that there was an Apulian Fons Bandusiae a few miles from Horace's birthplace, Venusia. Still it is not improbable that, as Tate suggests, the poet may have honoured with the same name some spring on or near his Sabine farm.
THOU art worthy, O fount Bandusian,
To-morrow shalt thou be gifted
For, in honour of thee, the slaughter
Catus idem per apertum fugientes agitato
Grege cervos jaculari et celer alto latitantem
Fruticeto excipere aprum.
XIII. AD FONTEM BANDUSIAE.
O FONS Bandusiae, splendidior vitro,
Duloi digne mero, non sine floribus,
Cras donaberis haedo,
Cui frons turgida cornibus
Primis et Venerem et proelia destinat,
Frustra: nam gelidos inficiet tibi
Rubro sanguine rivos
Lascivi suboles gregis.