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LAODAMIA TO PROTESILAUS; EPISTLE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Health to the gentle man of war, and may
Last Line: Of thy beloved self (I mean) of me.
Alternate Author Name(s): Ovid


THE ARGUMENT.

Protesilaus lying windbound at Aulis in the Grecian fleet design'd for the
Trojan war, his wife Laodamia sends this following Epistle to him.

HEALTH to the gentle man of war, and may
What Laodamia sends the Gods convey.
The wind that still in Aulis holds my dear,
Why was it not so cross to keep him here?
Let the wind raise an hurricane at sea,
Were he but safe and warm ashore with me.
Ten thousand kisses I had more to give him,
Ten thousand cautions, and soft words to leave him:
In haste he left me, summon'd by the wind,
(The wind to barbarous mariners only kind).
The seaman's pleasure is the lover's pain,
(Protesilaus from my bosom ta'en!)
As from my faltering tongue half speeches fell,
Scarce could I speak that wounding word Farewell,
A merry gale (at sea they call it so)
Fill'd every sail with joy, my breast with woe,
There went my dear Protesilaus-----
While I could see thee, full of eager pain,
My greedy eyes epicuris'd on thine,
When thee no more, but thy spread sails I view,
I look'd, and look'd, till I had lost them too;
But when nor thee, nor them I could descry,
And all was sea that came within my eye,
They say (for I have quite forgot), they say
I straight grew pale, and fainted quite away;
Compassionate Iphiclus, and the good old man,
My mother too to my assistance ran;
In haste cold water on my face they threw,
And brought me to myself with much ado.
They meant it well, to me it seem'd not so,
Much kinder had they been to let me go;
My anguish with my soul together came,
And in my heart burst out the former flame:
Since which, my uncomb'd locks unheeded flow,
Undrest, forlorn, I care not how I go;
Inspir'd with wine, thus Bacchus' frolic rout
Stagger'd of old, and straggled all about.
Put on, put on, the happy ladies say,
Thy royal robes, fair Laodamia.
Alas! before Troy's walls my dear does lie,
What pleasure can I take in Tyrian dye?
Shall curls adorn my head, an helmet thine?
I in bright tissues, thou in armour shine?
Rather with studied negligence I'll be
As ill, if not disguised worse than thee.
O Paris! rais'd by ruins! mayst thou prove
As fatal in thy war, as in thy love!
O that the Grecian Dame had been less fair,
Or thou less lovely hadst appear'd to her!
O Menelaus! timely cease to strive,
With how much blood wilt thou thy loss retrieve?
From me, ye Gods, avert your heavy doom,
And bring my dear, laden with laurels, home:
But my heart fails me, when I think of war,
The sad reflection costs me many a tear:
I tremble when I hear the very name
Of every place where thou shalt fight for fame;
Besides, th' adventurous ravisher well knew
The safest arts his villany to pursue;
In noble dress he did her heart surprise,
With gold he dazzled her unguarded eyes,
He back'd his rape with ships and armed men,
Thus storm'd, thus took the beauteous fortress in.
Against the power of Love and force of arms
There's no security in the brightest charms.
Hector I fear, much do I Hector fear,
A man (they say) experienc'd in war,
My dear, if thou hast any love for me,
Of that same Hector prithee mindful be;
Fly him be sure, and every other foe,
Lest each of them should prove an Hector too.
Remember, when for fight thou shalt prepare,
Thy Laodamia charg'd thee, Have a care;
For what wounds thou receiv'st are giv'n to her.
If by thy valour Troy must ruin'd be,
May not the ruin leave one scar on thee;
Sharer in th' honour, from the danger free!
Let Menelaus fight, and force his way
Through the false ravisher's troops t' his Helena.
Great be his victory, as his cause is good.
May he swim to her in his enemies' blood.
Thy case is different. -- Mayst thou live to see
(Dearest) no other combatant but me!
Ye generous Trojans, turn your swords away
From his dear breast, find out a nobler prey;
Why should you harmless Laodamia slay?
My poor good-natur'd man did never know
What 'tis to fight, or how to face a foe;
Yet in Love's field what wonders can he do!
Great is his prowess and his fortune too;
Let them go fight, who know not how to woo.
Now I must own, I fear'd to let thee go,
My trembling lips had almost told thee so.
When from thy father's house thou didst withdraw,
Thy fatal stumble at the door I saw,
I saw it, sigh'd, and pray'd the sign might be
Of thy return a happy prophecy!
I cannot but acquaint thee with my fear,
Be not too brave, -- Remember, -- Have a care,
And all my dreads will vanish into air.
Among the Grecians some one must be found
That first shall set his foot on Trojan ground;
Unhappy she that shall his loss bewail,
Grant, O ye Gods, thy courage then may fail.
Of all the ships be thine the very last,
Thou the last man that lands; there needs no haste
To meet a potent and a treacherous foe;
Thou'lt land I fear too soon, tho' ne'er so slow.
At thy return ply every sail and oar,
And nimbly leap on thy deserted shore.
All the day long, and all the lonely night,
Black thoughts of thee my anxious soul affright:
Darkness, to other women's pleasures kind,
Augments, like Hell, the torments of my mind.
I court e'en dreams, on my forsaken bed
False joys must serve, since all my true are fled.
What's that same airy phantom so like thee!
What wailings do I hear, what paleness see?
I wake, and hug myself, 'tis but a dream. --
The Grecian altars know I feed their flame,
The want of hallow'd wine my tears supply,
Which make the sacred fire burn bright and high.
When shall I clasp thee in these arms of mine,
These longing arms, and lie dissolv'd in thine?
When shall I have thee by thyself alone,
To learn the wondrous actions thou hast done?
Which when in rapturous words thou hast begun
With many and many a kiss, prithee tell on,
Such interruptions grateful pauses are,
A kiss in story's but an halt in war.
But, when I think of Troy, of winds and waves,
I fear the pleasant dream my hope deceives:
Contrary winds in port detain thee too,
In spite of wind and tide why wouldst thou go?
Thus, to thy country thou wouldst hardly come,
In spite of wind and tide thou went'st from home.
To his own city Neptune stops the way,
Revere the omen, and the Gods obey.
Return, ye furious Grecians, homeward fly,
Your stay is not of Chance, but Destiny:
How can your arms expect desir'd success,
That thus contend for an adulteress?
But, let not me forespeak you, no, -- set sail,
And Heav'n befriend you with a prosperous gale!
Ye Trojans! with regret methinks I see
Your first encounter with your enemy;
I see fair Helen put on all her charms,
To buckle on her lusty bridegroom's arms;
She gives him arms, and kisses she receives,
(I hate the transports each to other gives.)
She leads him forth, and she commands him come
Safely victorious, and triumphant home;
And he (no doubt) will make no nice delay,
But diligently do whate'er she say.
Now he returns! -- see with what amorous speed
She takes the pond'rous helmet from his head,
And courts the weary champion to her bed.
We women, too too credulous, alas!
Think what we fear will surely come to pass.
Yet, while before the leaguer thou dost lie,
Thy picture is some pleasure to my eye;
That, I caress in words most kind and free,
And lodge it on my breast, as I would thee.
There must be something in it more than Art,
'Twere very thee, could it thy mind impart;
I kiss the pretty Idol, and complain,
As if (like thee) 'twould answer me again.
By thy return, by thy dear self, I swear,
By our Love's vows, which most religious are,
By thy beloved head, and those gray hairs
Which time may on it snow in future years,
I come, where'er thy Fate shall bid thee go,
Eternal partner of thy weal and woe,
So thou but live, tho' all the Gods say No.
Farewell, -- but prithee very careful be
Of thy beloved Self (I mean) of me.





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