ELEGY II.
To his mistress, in whose company he is present at the chariot races in the Circus Maximus. He describes the race.
I am not sitting here [515] an admirer of the spirited steeds; [516] still I pray that he who is your favourite may win. I have come here to chat with you, and to be seated by you, [517] that the passion which yea cause may not be unknown to you. You are looking at the race, I am looking at you; let us each look at what pleases us, and so let us each feast our eyes. O, happy the driver [518] of the steeds, whoever he is, that is your favourite; it is then his lot to be the object of your care; might such be my lot; with ardent zeal to be borne along would I press over the steeds as they start from the sacred barrier. [519] And now I would give rein; [520] now with my whip would I lash their backs; now with my inside wheel would I graze the turning-place. [521] If you should be seen by me in my course, then I should stop; and the reins, let go, would fall from my hands.
Ah! how nearly was Pelops [522] falling by the lance of him of Pisa, while, Hippodamia, he was gazing on thy face! Still did he prove the conqueror through the favour of his mistress; [523] let us each prove victor through the favour of his charmer. Why do you shrink away in vain? [524] The partition forces us to sit close; the Circus has this advantage [525] in the arrangement of its space. But do you [526] on the right hand, whoever you are, be accommodating to the fair; she is being hurt by the pressure of your side. And you as well, [527] who are looking on behind us; draw in your legs, if you have any decency, and don't press her back with your hard knees. But your mantle, hanging too low, is dragging on the ground; gather it up; or see, I am taking it up [528] in my hands. A disobliging garment you are, who are thus concealing ancles so pretty; and the more you gaze upon them, the more disobliging garment you are. Such were the ancles of the fleet Atalanta, [529] which Milanion longed to touch with his hands. Such are painted the ancles of the swift Diana, when, herself still bolder, she pursues the bold beasts of prey. On not seeing them, I am on fire; what would be the consequence if they were seen? You are heaping flames upon flames, water upon the sea. From them I suspect that the rest may prove charming, which is so well hidden, concealed beneath the thin dress.
But, meanwhile, should you like to receive the gentle breeze which the fan may cause, [530] when waved by my hand? Or is the heat I feel, rather that of my own passion, and not of the weather, and is the love of the fair burning my inflamed breast? While I am talking, your white clothes are sprinkled with the black dust; nasty dust, away from a body like the snow.
But now the procession [531] is approaching; give good omens both in words and feelings. The time is come to applaud; the procession approaches, glistening with gold. First in place is Victory borne [532] with expanded wings; [533] come hither, Goddess, and grant that this passion of mine may prove victorious.
"Salute Neptune, [534] you who put too much confidence in the waves; I have nought to do with the sea; my own dry land engages me. Soldier, salute thy own Mars; arms I detest [535] Peace delights me, and Love found in the midst of Peace. Let Phoebus be propitious to the augurs, Phoebe to the huntsmen; turn, Minerva, towards thyself the hands of the artisan. [536] Ye husbandmen, arise in honour of Ceres and the youthful Bacchus; let the boxers [537] render Pollux, the horseman Castor propitious. Thee, genial Venus, and the Loves, the boys so potent with the bow, do I salute; be propitious, Goddess, to my aspirations. Inspire, too, kindly feelings in my new mistress; let her permit herself to be loved." She has assented; and with her nod she has given a favourable sign. What the Goddess has promised, I entreat yourself to promise. With the leave of Venus I will say it, you shall be the greater Goddess. By these many witnesses do I swear to you, and by this array of the Gods, that for all time you have been sighed for by me. But your legs have no support; you can, if perchance you like, rest the extremities of your feet in the lattice work. [538]
Now the Prætor, [539] the Circus emptied, has sent from the even barriers [540] the chariots with their four steeds, the greatest sight of all. I see who is your favourite; whoever you wish well to, he will prove the conqueror. The very horses appear to understand what it is you wish for. Oh shocking! around the turning-place he goes with a circuit far too wide. [541] What art thou about? The next is overtaking thee with his wheel in contact. What, wretched man, art thou about? Thou art wasting the good wishes of the fair; pull in the reins, I entreat, to the left, [542] with a strong hand. We have been resting ourselves in a blockhead; but still, Romans, call him back again, [543] and by waving the garments, [544] give the signal on every side. See! they are calling him back; but that the waving of the garments may not disarrange your hair, [545] you may hide yourself quite down in my bosom.
And now, the barrier [546] unbarred once more, the side posts are open wide; with the horses at full speed the variegated throng [547] bursts forth. This time, at all events, [548] do prove victorious, and bound over the wide expanse; let my wishes, let those of my mistress, meet with success. The wishes of my mistress are fulfilled; my wishes still exist. He bears away the palm; [549] the palm is yet to be sought by me. She smiles, and she gives me a promise of something with her expressive eye. That is enough for this spot; grant the rest in another place.