of afflictions. Instead of going back to Skelsmorevale, as we had resolved, my wife would go up to London, and pass a few weeks there, and thereabout, before she retired to the mountains. I was against it, but her will was my law. We set out for the capital, and the first day's journey was delightful but her fine beast having met with an accident in the night, by a rope in the stable, which got about its foot, cut it deep, and rendered it unable to travel; we took a chariot and four to finish our way, but on driving by the side of a steep hill, the horses took fright, ran it down, over came the carriage, and my charmer was killed. This was a dismal scene. She lived about an hour, and repeated the following fine lines from Boissard, when she saw me weeping as I kneeled on the ground by her, Nil prosunt lacrumæ, nec possunt fata moveri : * These lines from the Antiquities of Boissard, are a real inscription on a tomb in Italy, which this antiquary found in his travels, and copied it as a curiosity to the world. Homonca was a great beauty at the court of the Emperor Honorius, and married to Atimetus, a courtier and favourite, who preferred her to the most illustrious of ladies of that time, on account of her ex Just as she expired, she took me by the hand, and with the spirit of an old Roman, bid me adieu. traordinary charms, and uncommon perfections; but she did not long enjoy the honour and happiness she was married into. Before she was twenty, death snatched her away, in the year of the reign of Honorius, A. D. 401. and the following beautiful epitaph was cut on her monument, and remains to this day; I place it here for the entertainment of my readers, and likewise La Fontaine's elegant translation of it. HOMONEA'S EPITAPH. Si pensare animas sinerent crudelia fata, At nunc quod possum, fugiam lucemque deosque, (Atimetus the husband, is the speaker af these six lines.) Parce tuam conjux fletu quassare juventam, Fataque merendo sollicitare mea. Nil prosunt lacrumæ, nec possunt fata moveri. Parce, ita non unquam similem experiare dolorem. Quodque mihi eripuit mors immatura juventæ, (Homonca is supposed to speak these eight lines, to her hus band; and then relates her case to the traveller, who is passing by.) Can you form an idea, Reader, of the distress I was then in? It is not possible I think unless you Tu qui secura procedis mente parumper Nondum bis denos ætas compleverat annos, Nec pro me queror; hoc morte mihi est tristius ipsa, Sit tibi terra levis, mulier dignissima vitâ Quæque tuis olim perfruerêre bonis. (These two lines may be the words of the Public, or of whoever erected the monument to the memory of Homonca. Now see how finely La Fontaine has done this inscription into verse. Si l'on pouvoit donner ses jours pour ceux d'un autre Et que par cet échange on contentat le sort, Quels que soint les momens qui me restent encore Mon ame, avec plaisir, racheteroit la votre. Mais le destin l'ayant autrement arrété, Je ne sçaurois qui fuir les dieux et la clarté, VOL. III. have been exactly in the same situation; unless you loved like me, and have been as miserably separated Cessez de fatiguer par de cris impuissans, La parque et le destin, deïtez inflexibles. Et toy, passant tranquille, apprens quels sont nos maux, Or thus in prose. S'il suffisoit aux destins qu'on donât sa vie pour celle from as charming a woman. But it was in vain for me to continue lamenting. She was gone for d'un autre, et qu'il fût possible de racheter ainsi ce que l'on ayme, quelque soit le nombre d'années que les parques m'ont accordé, je le donnerois avec plaisir pour vous tirer de tombeau, ma chere Homonée; mais cela ne se pouvant, ce que je puis faire est de fuïr le jour et la presence de dieux, pour aller bientôt vous suivre le long du Styx. O mon chere epoux, cessez de vous affliger; ne corrompez plus le fleurs de vos ans; ne fatiguez plus ma destinée par de plaintes continuëlles: toutes les larmes sont icy vaines; on ne sauroit émouvoir la parque: me voila morte, chacun arrive à ce terme la. Cessez donc encore un fois ainsi puissiez-vous ne sentir jamais une semblable douleur! Ainsi tous les dieux soient favorable a vos souhaits! Et veüille la parque ajoûter a vôtre vie ce qu'elle a ravi à la mienne. Et toy qui passes tranquillement, arreté icy je te prie un moment ou deux, afin de lire ce peu de mots. Moy, cette Homonée que preferra Atimete a de filles considerables; moy a qui Venus donna la beauté, les graces et les agrémens; que Pallas enfin avoit instruite dans tous les arts, me voilà icy renfermée dans un monument de peu d'espace. Je n'avois pas encore vingt ans quand le sort jetta ses mains envieuses sur ma personne. Ce ne❜st pas pour moy que je m'en plains, c'est pour mon mari, de qui la douleur m'est plus difficile à supporter que ma propre mort. |