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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [P10v f154v]

Ferè simile ex Theocrito.[1]

Something more or less the same from Theocritus

Emblema cxii.

Alveolis dum mella legit, percussit Amorem
Furacem mala apes, & summis spicula liquit
In digitis: tumido gemit at puer anxius ungue,
Et quatit errabundus humum, Venerique dolorem
Indicat, & graviter queritur, quòd apicula parvum
Ipsa inferre animal tam noxia vulnera possit,
Cui ridens Venus, Hanc imitaris tu quoque, dixit,
Nate, feram, qui das tot noxia vulnera parvus.

While he was taking honey from the hives, a vicious bee stung thieving Amor, and left its sting in the end of his finger. The boy in distress cried out as his finger-end swelled up. He ran about, stamping his foot, showed his hurt to Venus, and complained bitterly that a little bee, that tiny creature, could inflict such grievous wounds. Venus smiled at him and said, ‘You are like this creature, my son; small as you are you deal many a grievous wound’.

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [P11r f155r]

AMorem cum apibus comparat. apes ceram &
mel conficiunt, eaedem aculeum habent violen-
tissimum: sic amor voluptatis suppeditat illece-
bras, idem dolorem moeroremque fundit in ani-
mos. Vel id intelligetur generaliùs de iis rebus ex
quibus petitur aliqua oblectatio. quae tamen nisi
caucamus, immixtam habent amaritiem.

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [P11v f155v]

Presque de mesme; prins de Theocrite.

UN jour l’enfant Amour des Avettes pilloit
Le bon miel, & par tout les rusches il alloit:
Blessé qu’il fut bien fort, se va plaindre à sa mere,
Il se deult, il se fasche, il se contriste fort
Qu’un petit bestion luy eust faict si grand tort,
Dont il sentoit au doigt douleur si fort amere.
Elle en se souriant l’amadouë & le baise,
Puis l’arrestant tout court, de tels propos l’appaise:
Mon fils, que te plains-tu d’un petit animal,
De l’Avette vollant’ laquelle tu imites?
Tu as, ce semble à voir, les pointures petites,
Aussi es-tu petit, mais tu fais bien grand mal.

IL compare l’Amour avec les Avettes.
Icelles font la cire & le miel, elles aussi
ont un esguillon fort violent: pareillement
Amour fournit d’apasts, de plaisirs, le mesme
faict couller en dedans beaucoup de dou-
leur & fascherie. Ou cecy plus generallement
se pourra entendre des choses dont on tire
quelque plaisir lesquelles toutesfois ont
de l’amertume parmy meslee, si nous n’y
prenons garde.

Notes:

1.  3rd-century BC bucolic poet, who may or may not have wrriten the Idylls (19, The Honey Stealer), of which this is a fairly close translation, in dactylic hexameters, as in the Greek original.


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