The Well-Disposed and Ill-Used Door (Propertius 1.16)

I THAT had once been thrown open for great triumphs, a door renowned for Tarpeian modesty, whose threshold was thronged by gilded chariots, and moist with the tearful entreaties of captives, now wounded by nocturnal brawls of drunkards often I complain, smitten by unworthy hands, and I lack not graceless garlands hanging, and dead torches lying as a sign to those who are shut out.... Meanwhile I am driven to lamentation by grievous complaints, made sadder still through the sorrowful vigils of a suppliant. He never suffers my posts to rest, ever repeating strains of artful (or melodious, or shrill) blandishment. ('Cruel door, why will you not take pity on me and let me in? I have never insulted you, rather I have offered you worship'). These and all other plaints that lovers know, he chatters to the birds of dawn. So now by my mistress' faults and a constant lover's lamentations I am defamed in

Classical Antiquity Studies · Classical Philosophy and Thought · History

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