Penelope's Plea
Ovid, Heroides I “Penelope Ulixi”, lines 1-12 Your Penelope sends these words To you, delaying Ulysses; It does no good for you To write me back – come yourself! No doubt that Troy – hateful To Greek maidens – now lies prostrate: Scarcely was Priam worth so much - Scarcely was all of Troy. O, how I wish that on that day When the adulterer went in quest Of Sparta with his fleet, he’d Been swallowed by raging waters! Then I wouldn’t lie, chilly, On a deserted bed, Nor, abandoned, would I lament The daylight’s tardy coming; Nor, as I seek to cheat The endless-stretching night, Would the loom-warp, hanging down, Weary my widowed hands. When have I not feared dangers Worse still than the truth? Love is a thing that’s always full Of anxiety and fear. Haec tua Penelope lento tibi mittit, Ulixe; nil mihi rescribas attinet: ipse veni! Troia iacet certe, Danais invisa puellis; vix Priamus tanti totaque Troia fuit. o utinam tum, cum Lacedaemona classe petebat, obrutus insanis esset adulter aquis! non ego deserto iacuissem frigida lecto, nec quererer tardos ire relicta dies; nec mihi quaerenti spatiosam fallere noctem lassaret viduas pendula tela manus. Quando ego non timui graviora pericula veris? res est solliciti plena timoris amor.
Penelope and the Suitors, John William Waterhouse, 1912