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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [E1v]

ΑΝΤΈΡΩΣ id est AMOR
virtutis
.

Anteros, that is, love of virtue

Dic ubi sunt incurvi arcus? ubi tela cupido?
Mollia quîs iuvenum figere corda soles.[1]
Fax ubi tristis? ubi pennae? tres unde corollas,
Fert manus? unde aliam tempora cincta gerunt,
Haud mihi vulgari est hospes cum Cypride quicquam
Ulla voluptatis nos neque forma tulit.
Sed puris hominum succendo mentibus ignes,
Disciplinae animos astraque ad alta traho.
Quatuor eque ipsa texo virtute corollas,[2]
Quarum quae sophiae est tempora prima tegit.[3]

Tell me, where are your arching bows, where your arrows, Cupid, the shafts which you use to pierce the tender hearts of the young? Where is your hurtful torch, where your wings? Why does your hand hold three garlands? Why do your temples wear a fourth? - Stranger, I have nothing to do with common Venus, nor did any pleasurable shape bring me forth. I light the fires of learning in the pure minds of men and draw their thoughts to the stars on high. I weave four garlands out of virtue’s self and the chief of these, the garland of Wisdom, wreathes my temples.

Notes:

1.  This is a translation of Anthologia graeca 16.201.

2.  ‘I weave four garlands out of virtue’s self’, a reference to the four cardinal virtues, justice, temperance, courage and wisdom.

3.  In the woodcut, Anteros is wrongly given wings. This iconographic mistake is carried over into early Wechel editions cf. [A34b081], but later corrected, through the removal of the wings. Cf. [FALa081].


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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [G7v p110]

El Amor de la virtud.

Dialogo. Lettor. Amor.

SONETO.

L. Do està tu flecha y arco di Cupido,
Con que solias clavar el tierno pecho?
Do estan tus alas, y tu fuego hecho
Para abrasar qualquier hombre naçido?
Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [G8r p111] Estas coronas tres do te an venido,
Y esotra en la cabeza? A. No ha derecho
En mi la Venus, à quien yo desecho,
Lettor, que no soy de ella conçevido.
Yo soy aquel Amor de virtud santto
Que las almas ençiendo, y las mantengo,
Y à contemplar en alto las levanto.
De virtud las coronas son que tengo,
Y la de la prudençia (por ser tanto
Su honor) en la cabeza la sostengo.[1]

Notes:

1.  This is based on Anthologia graeca 16.201.


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