epistula heroida

Landscape with Paris and Oenone (1648) - Claude Lorrain

[...]
It's shameful to start preferring a stolen woman to your country.

It's a cause of shame to you: a just husband takes up arms.

Don't expect the Spartan to be loyal to you, if you're wise,

she who fell so quickly into your embrace.

Like Menelaus who cries out at the desecration of his marriage bed,

and wounded grieves at this love for a stranger,

you will also cry. Wounded chastity is restored

by no art: it remains lost for ever.

She's on fire with your love: just so, she loved Menelaus;

now, too trusting, he lies there in an empty bed.

Happy Andromache is truly married to a good husband:

take your brother's wife as an example.

You are lighter than leaves, without weight of sap,

flying along, dried by the fickle winds.

And there's less weight in you than a fragile ear of wheat,

that stiffens, parched by the continual sun.

Your sister Cassandra once chanted, (now I recall)

prophesying to me, with her hair unbound:

"What are you doing, Oenone? Why sow seed in the sand?

Ox, you plough the shore in vain!

The Greek heifer comes, who will destroy you house and lands!

Oh prevent her! The Greek heifer's coming!"

While you can, sink the obscene vessel in the sea!

Alas! How much Trojan blood she carries!.

She spoke: her servants led her away, her madness in full flight,

but my yellow hair stood on end.

Ah, prophetess, you were only too right about my woes:

see, the Greek heifer occupies my field!

Though her beauty is distinguished, she's truly adulterous:

captivated by a guest, abandoning her husband's gods.

Theseus (unless the name's wrong, I'm unsure which Theseus)

stole her away from her country before.

A young man, and passionate, do we believe she returned a virgin?

How did I learn all this, you rightly ask? I love!

[...]

Fifth of The Heroides - Publius Ovidius Naso (Translated by A.S. Kline 2001)