King's Kismet: The Chronicles of

Sloane King M.F. Adele

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 Copyright © 2023 M.F. Adele

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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, businesses, incidents, and events are either used in a fictitious manner or stem
from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real events or real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by:

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Published by:
Langston Press, LLC

Latest content update:

January 21, 2023
 To Woody
My very own hellhound…
You kept me company through
seven of Sloane’s books.
I really missed you while writing number eight.
My office is quiet without
you snoring under my desk.
My feet are cold without you lying on them.
And my late nights are boring
now that you’re not here to bicker with me
about the rabbit in the backyard.
 CONTENTS

Disclaimer

Prologue
1. Sloane
2. Jack
3. Sloane
4. Sloane
5. Sloane
6. Sloane
7. York
8. Sloane
9. Sloane
10. Sloane
11. Sloane
12. Dolyn
13. Grim
14. Novak
15. Franklin
16. Jack
17. Vaughn
18. Sloane
19. Palmer
20. Sloane
21. Sloane
22. Briggs
23. Stone
24. Sloane
25. Sloane
26. Sloane
27. Sloane
28. Sloane
Epilogue

Character Information
Dead Characters
Other PNR by MF Adele
Contemporary by MF Adele
Co-Writes with MF Adele
About the Author
Author’s Note
 DISCLAIMER

This paranormal reverse harem romance is intended for mature audiences only.

King’s Kismet is the eighth book in the seven-book series, The Chronicles of Sloane King, which
cannot be read without first reading the attached series.

This is a series-wide disclaimer for The Chronicles of Sloane King.

Current books include: explicit language, murder, blood, graphic violence, and controversial
religious beliefs.

Current books include mentions of: child abuse, rape, drugs, domestic violence, suicide, and
open relationships.

If any of the scenarios listed trigger or offend you, please do not read this series.
If you have ​questions about the content, please contact me for clarification.

AuthorMFAdele@gmail.com
 Five Years Before Druid Dreams
Sunday, May 10th

T he late spring wind whipped through the garden behind Papi’s house, turning the pages of my
book. But it also carried with it the conversation my parents and Jack are having on the other
side of the open kitchen window.
Before, I had simply let their words fade into muted nonsense so they wouldn’t distract me from
my reread of The Time Machine by HG Wells…
Now, though? With my place in the book lost, their voices held my curiosity.
“Are you sure?” Jack asked, a sense of urgency in his tone that made me sit up straight.
“No,” my father—Nate—acquiesced. “It’s not time, but the situation is forcing our hand.”
“What about the others?” Charlie rumbled.
Though he was the Supreme Alpha, he rarely used his no-nonsense voice with his co-mates or
children. Family lunches or dinners were usually so relaxed for him, those days when he didn’t have
to be in charge.
“My apprentice is finishing up his degree in dentistry,” Sam commented, causing me to tilt my
head.
 What were they talking about?
Nate snorted. “Dentistry? Really?”
“Well, you know he’s a smartass,” Papi remarked, as carefree as the Second Devil of Hell could
be. “He thinks it’s ironic. I don’t know what else to say about it, other than if you break a fang, I know
a demon.”
“I’ve got the eldest Elliott,” Charlie commented as I inched closer to the window. “He’s been
back in the states for a couple of months. I’ve already told his brother what’s going on, so they won’t
push the subject when I send him out of North Fork.”
“How did I get stuck with three of them?” my father complained.
“Divine intervention,” Papi dryly replied.
Nate sighed. “I’ll send my apprentice and his fae friend within the next few weeks. The young
vampire needs a task to keep himself busy, so I’ve got to set something up. Will they be staying with
—”
“We’ll have to move them into a bigger place,” my dad cut in.
“We can’t move them far,” my father argued. “The mage apprentice has a job at the college.”
“Student at one, professor at another,” Charlie growled under his breath. “At least the other three
won’t be such a challenge.”
I wandered inside, my curiosity getting the best of me. “What are you four talking about?”
“Are you reading that book again?” Jack asked, taking my worn paperback from my hand to flip
through the dog-eared pages.
There was a perfectly untouched first edition on the shelf in my bedroom. That was one book that
would never see a creased page or highlighted line. But this book? It held bright yellow streaks over
my favorite passages and ripped corners from saving my spot too many times.
“Yes. It’s my favorite,” I replied, then repeated, “What are you talking about?”
It was a strange sight to see the Supreme Alpha unsure of himself, though that was the feeling I
was getting from him.
“We have a job that needs a certain level of discretion,” Charlie stated, tugging at his neatly
trimmed beard. “We’re hoping you’ll be up to the task.”
I shrugged. “Depends on what you’re asking.”
“We need you to free the fae king and rescue the druid prince,” Nate responded, the hint of a smile
flashing across his mouth.
“Uh-huh,” I hummed. “Sure.”
Jack cut his glare to our parents. “I told you she wouldn’t believe that.”
“Lo,” my father murmured. “I’m serious.”
“Where are they?” I inquired, observing their odd body language. “That sounds like two jobs.”
“They’re in the same place,” my dad admitted, still toying with his facial hair. “A camp in the Red
River Gorge in Kentucky.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why are they in the same place?”
“One was abducted,” Sam informed me, too carefree, like he was trying to make a joke. “The
other doesn’t know the trouble he’s walked into.”
“Do you know where they’re at within the camp?” I slowly asked, watching them tense.
“No,” Papi muttered, scowling at his vampire co-mate. “Our intel could only give the general
location of the camp itself.”
“How general?” I prompted.
Nate glared back at Papi as he answered me. “Within three square miles.”
 “That’s better than nothing,” my dad said, attempting to be encouraging. “The Red River Gorge is
nearly thirty thousand acres, forty-five square miles.”
I sighed. “When do you want me to go? And how long do I have to complete the job?”
“ASAP and ASAP,” Papi oh-so-helpfully informed me.
“With no intel, I’m going in blind,” I pointed out. “I’ll have to take a few days to find and then
study the camp so I can get them out with none of us getting injured.”
Nate wobbled his head as he counted on his fingers. “Take a day or two, but I don’t think you’ll
need more time than that.”
“Oh?” I scoffed. “Then you do it.”
“No one needs to live,” my dad griped, then pursed his lips. “Except for the fae king and the druid
prince.”
Jack snorted. “You should have started with that.”
I shot him a quick grin before turning back to my parents. “Who’s cleaning up my mess?”
“We’ll come through and clean once you’ve found the exact location,” Papi promised. “You’ll
have to take us back there, though. And—”
I held up my hand to stop him. “And who are they to you?”
“They’re…” Nate trailed off, looking at Charlie and Sam for the right words.
“Friends,” Jack answered, leaning his head against mine. “They’re friends of the Kings, and they
need help, Lo.”
“Fine,” I grouched. “But I’m going to make a mess of it.”
I stepped backward, letting the void envelop me with its frigid temperatures. The last thing I
heard was my parents chuckling.
The next thing?
Franklin setting my pink duffle bag of weapons on the kitchen counter of the apartment I shared
with Jack.
“You already knew they were going to ask me?”
The ancient vampire tipped his head. “Yes, madam. I also knew you would accept.”
“How?”
“Were you really going to turn down the opportunity to test your limits with murder and chaos?
This is the perfect job for you.”
I nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It just feels like everyone knows something that I don't know
about this job. I can’t shake the gut instinct that there’s more at play.”
“Do you have reason to believe they’re lying to you?”
“I don’t believe they would send me into more danger than I can handle,” was my nonanswer.
I saw the way Franklin’s cheeks rounded as he left without another word.
But did I think my parents were lying?
I couldn’t stop the thought from rolling across my mind.
They were the best people I knew, not that I kept many others around to have a decent baseline. I
would give them the benefit of the doubt, because I had no reason to believe they would deceive me.
If they weren’t telling me the full truth, then they had a good reason. They were extraordinary
creatures with more age under their belts than I could comprehend.
I’d learned to shoot a gun from a wolf who had fought in the Revolutionary war. I’d been nursed
back to health by a vampire who had walked the streets of Europe during the bubonic plague. And the
devil himself had taught me how to wield a sword.
So, I could kill a few people for them while saving their friends.
It was no sweat off my tits.
The hellsteed’s chuckle rolled through my mind. “That’s not how the saying goes.”
“That’s the way it goes now. Get out of my head, Jack.”
“Then close the fucking door,” my best friend snarked.
 Nail Gun Fun
Thursday, July 16th
Noon

T he repairs after our showdown with Alric’s army were still underway. But we were getting so
close to finishing them. York, Briggs, and I had been working for the last three weeks to get the
holes in the house closed up and ready for siding to be replaced.
The hole I blew in the dining room…
And the hole that spanned the corner of the second and third floors from one of the dragons.
Which one? I never asked.
But it was too small to be Sarge. So, either Joyner or one of Alric’s dragon friends.
The specifics no longer mattered to me.
The point was… Today, we were working inside.
The new windows had been installed in the dining room a week ago, which meant we could begin
hanging drywall. And we’d had a productive day until I’d asked for Palmer and Novak to help us.
York had been with me through some of the improvement projects I’d done when I first moved
into this house, so he understood the pride and effort I put into making this empty shell a home.
 He and Briggs were hard, hands-on workers. They didn’t worry about getting dirty, and I was
enjoying the shirtless, sweaty, dust-covered view. My wolf was covered in drywall mud from
fingertips to elbows with the occasional streak in his hair. York had clean circles around his eyes
from his safety goggles…
They were so fucking sexy right now.
My mage and my vampire, though?
They were the opposite.
Not that I didn’t think they were sexy, or they didn’t work hard at their jobs.
This was a little different, though. Novak didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, only that he
wasn’t going to follow instructions. And Palmer wasn’t keen on getting dirty.
Briggs was attempting to explain how to apply the drywall compound, but it wasn’t going very
well.
There were so many dips and creases in the mud that I physically cringed. I stood in shock, nail
gun forgotten in my hand, as I suppressed the urge to send them away, to do it all on my own. York
was helping me put in the new French doors, and even he had stopped to watch the train wreck in
progress.
“That’s an understatement,” York’s humor-filled voice echoed in my mind as he caught my
thoughts. “I can’t decide who will crack first. You or Briggs.”
He was right.
“You can’t leave it like this,” Briggs bitched, going behind them to fix their mistakes.
“We’re going to sand it down, anyway,” Novak commented under his breath. “It doesn’t need to
be perfect.”
My wolf rubbed his forehead with his middle finger, leaving a streak of dust-free skin. “That’s not
the point.”
“What is the point, then?” Palmer asked. “Why does it matter?”
“When you leave dips in the mud, we have to go back and fix it,” Briggs snarled, then took the
deepest fucking breath I’d ever seen to calm down. “You’re adding more work to our plates instead of
helping us.”
Novak snorted, sarcastically replying, “I didn’t ask to help.”
We didn’t have time for his attitude… But if he wanted to be a dick, then I would gladly return the
favor. I glanced from York to Briggs, to the nail gun in my hand.
Then I pointed the pressurized gun at my vampire, held my fingernail against the safety
mechanism, and pulled the trigger, shooting a two-inch nail in his calf.
“Ouch,” he shouted, frowning at his leg before giving me a wide-eyed warning, “Fuck. Be careful
with that.”
I shrugged. “Be careful with that mud.”
Novak’s mouth popped open, though his silence couldn’t hide his disbelieving grin. “You shot me
on purpose?”
“Aye.” Palmer chuckled. “She was careful, all right.”
“That fucking hurt,” my vampire growled, pulling the nail from his leg.
I nodded. “I’m sure it did. Fuck up my wall again, and I’ll shoot you somewhere else.”
My mage scoffed, then shook his head as he watched me. I didn’t even think about my actions as I
aimed at his thigh.
“Don’t you dare.”
I pulled the trigger, cackling as he jumped back. He really should have known better than to
challenge me like that.
“These are my good khakis,” Palmer ranted. “I don’t want to mess them up in—”
The air compressor whirled to life as the click-pop of the nail gun once more echoed in the empty
dining room. I grinned when he dodged my shot.
“Sloane,” he snapped.
“Palmer,” I replied, raising a brow.
“This is workplace abuse,” Novak muttered.
I shot at him again, too. But my vampire hopped to the left, using Palmer as a shield.
My mage shrugged Novak’s hand off his shoulder as he glowered at me. “You’re just adding more
holes to your wall.”
The click-pop of the nail gun on my right made me smile at York. Four more shots fired, two of
which hit my vampire.
But I finally nailed my mage.
Right in his ass cheek.
“Fuck,” he snarled, dropping to his knee as he held his hands up. “Okay. Okay.”
I passed my nail gun to Briggs and wandered across the room to my targets. Palmer glared when I
bent at the waist and snatched the metal from his flesh. I licked the tip, and he narrowed his eyes.
“If we’re going to have to redo your work anyway,” I sassed, bouncing my gaze between the two
of them. “Then I’m going to make it worth my while.”
“Is that the only tip you plan on licking?” Novak asked, his head cocked as he ran his tongue over
his teeth. “Because you could totally shoot me again.”
I snorted before I could stop myself.
“Don’t encourage her,” Palmer admonished, rubbing his ass.
“You challenge her regularly,” my vampire argued. “And then you get mad when she bites back. If
you hadn’t been such a dick this morning, you might not have a hole in your ass now. Isn’t that what
you’re always bitching at me about? Thinking about the repercussions of my actions?”
My mage sighed like Novak was just too much to handle. “So if I got shot for being a dick this
morning, why’d you get shot first?”
“For being a dick a few minutes ago.” He pointed over his shoulder, as if that gesture made any
sense. “Gods, Palmer. Keep up.”
 Druid Dreams - Chapter 9
Alternative POV
Saturday, May 16th
Late Morning

I popped a grape in my mouth as I took a seat at the patio table, content in watching Sloane act
completely unfazed by meeting her mates.
I tried to ignore the lot of them until after introductions were made.
It was hard to keep the smirk off my face as I listened to Sloane’s rambling thoughts. She didn’t
want to understand what was pulling her to them. So she wouldn’t… Not until I blew the lid off this
whole business meeting she’d set up. I wasn’t certain if I wanted to gag or scoff at her for thinking
she was in control and knew what to expect.
I already knew who they were; I didn’t need any more information than what I had already
gathered. Sloane would surely be pissed when she found out that I’d known who her mates were, but
she would relax when she found out how much digging I’d done for her.
Maybe. Who fucking knew with her?
Oh, she’d be raging at me in a few minutes.
 Would she really be angry, though? No.
Frustrated that I’d been keeping a secret from her?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
I’d watch these guys for a few more days, track how they interacted with my best friend, and then
I’d grill the shit out of them. Mates or not, if they didn’t have pure intentions with Lo, then they had to
go. I’d kill them myself if I had to.
I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but I wouldn’t write it off so quickly.
I caught the tail end of her conversation with the winter fae and sent them all a cynical grin. I lurk
in the shadows. They’d do well to remember that.
Nothing would stop me from watching Lo’s back and keeping her safe. The only one in the bunch
who would have heard any rumors about me would be the demon. He looked like a smart male,
though. He wouldn’t open his mouth to the others unless I was out of earshot.
The demon seemed suspicious of Lo, not that I blamed him. Her reputation with the supes was
nasty on Earth, and even worse in the Underworld. The rep she had here wasn’t really true, but she
didn’t want to fight it. It kept most supernatural creatures away from her, knowing she was the biggest
predator on the board.
The name she’d earned for herself in Hell? That one was well deserved. She’d forged that title
with the hottest of hellfire and the bloodiest of fights. I never could understand why it shocked the
demons. When you challenge the Devil’s heir, you’re bound to catch horns in the gut. Or worse.
“... I’m not sure what the shifter has been doing, other than camping in the woods and visiting the
closest local dive bar,” Sloane stated, waving her hand in the shifter’s direction.
She cut her eyes to me before sliding her thoughts into my mind, and I knew then that shit was
about to get real and entertaining.
“Am I being rude?”
I grinned at her, playful and devious. If I could see my face, I knew my ebony pools would be
glinting mischievously even though the late Saturday morning sun wasn’t hitting them.
The shade of the patio couldn’t keep the twinkle out of my eyes as I mentally responded, “I mean,
you could use their names. It’s not like they don’t have titles in front of them. You are looking at
four apprentices and the Prince of the Winter Realm.”
When her shoulders tensed, I couldn’t decide if she was going to cuss me out through our mental
connection or in actual words for everyone to hear. She slowly twisted the top half of her body
toward me and clenched her hands together on the tabletop. Her confused, wide-eyed stare nearly had
me smirking at her. It took more will power that I knew I possessed to keep my mouth flat and bored.
“Are you serious?” she asked me, fighting with herself about wanting to punch me.
I couldn’t contain the low chuckle that slipped from my lips. “Serious as a heart attack, bitch.”
“Well, fuck me. I wondered, but I had no way to really know for sure unless I dug deeper or flat
out asked, which seems really rude. Were you going to tell me or just wait for me to figure it out?”
She pegged me with narrowed, angry eyes while cursing me telepathically.
She was right.
I wasn’t going to tell her.
Before this.
It wasn’t my place. Nate was supposed to be here to fill her in when it was time to meet her
mates. But he wasn’t here, and she went and met another one of them without even realizing it. I
couldn’t tell her she couldn’t see him, or any of them. She was grown, and even then, she was my best
friend.
 I just wanted to see her happy.
The mage was a shady fucker, but I liked the vampire and the fae. I didn’t have a real opinion on
the demon or the shifter yet, other than the demon being a little too clean to pass as a regular demon.
There was something about him… I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on it, but I would.
I watched in amusement as they all turned to Lo and me, eyeing us as they tried to work out what
we were talking about. Lo was on the fence, stuck between panicking or brushing off our
conversation. But I hadn’t had the chance to have my fun yet.
“Oh, sweetheart. Let me blow your mind, please,” I practically begged, making sure to use the pet
name the druid always called her.
I was fucking thrilled to witness her reaction. Several times I’d pleaded with Nate to let me be in
the room when he told Lo, and he’d always shut me down. I couldn’t wait to memorize her facial
expression so I could show him when he got back home.
After mentally stressing how much she hated me, she demanded the information.
“Tell me.”
Clipped and to the point, those two words were so sharp that I was sure they’d caused me to
bleed. Somewhere on my body was a flesh wound waiting to be seen.
I hit her with a self-assured smile, turning my theatrics up a notch just to piss her off more. I
puffed my chest out with a deep inhale, standing as slowly as possible from my chair until she ground
my name out through her clenched teeth.
“I guess you still haven’t read that letter, the one Nathaniel left for you?” I cut my eyes to her,
waiting for her to nod.
I already knew she hadn’t read the fucking letter, so I arched a brow at her as I studied her face. I
smirked at her with my best I’m an important asshole look before dragging out my knowledge. It
seemed like none of them knew for sure, but I had a feeling some of them wouldn’t be too shocked.
“So, Sloane King, may I present to you...” I paused as dramatically as I could. “Drum roll
please...” I made an utterly annoying rhythm while slapping my hands on my thighs. “Your mates.”
And then, just because I loved being a dick to her when I knew something that she didn’t, I flicked
my left hand across the table in a wildly ridiculous flourish and bowed at my waist.
I was so enjoying her stunned silence for all of a few seconds, and then she yelled, “Franklin! Can
we get some liquor, please?”
A few more moments went by with everyone being completely speechless, and I wanted to
fucking preen. Lo could read minds, for Devil’s sake, and could crack mine open like a peanut and
turn the pages like she was flipping through a book. It had been hard work to keep her from finding
out that I knew about her mates.
The insults currently running through her mind were creative, but I was more amused by how
vicious her inner monologue sounded compared to how calm her outward presence was. None of the
guys were any wiser about the cogs moving in her head as she pieced everything together.
“Jack, I’m going to fucking kill you,” she told me with a certainty that made me suppress a shiver.
She wouldn’t hurt me physically or emotionally, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t file this
moment away for later and give me hella shit for it. Payback was in my future at some point. I just
wouldn’t know when.
I was deeply looking forward to it.
Lo’s vengeance had degrees to it. She played dirty, but always managed to dish out fair
punishments. Where on her scale this particular incident would fall was beyond me, but I knew she
would wait until I let my guard down.
 When we were thirteen, I’d told our parents that Lo was buying thongs and skimpy lingerie. She
wasn’t mad, but she was embarrassed. The bitch waited two whole ass months to get back at me. I’d
been so pissed at the time, but looking back… it was just funny. She’d cut all my boxers and gym
shorts to look like thongs, and when I’d explained it to Charlie, he’d laughed until he cried.
That same year, though, Lo and I had overheard Sam talking to a close friend who was telling him
about how his mate had been beating their kids when the males were gone. We’d grown up with those
kids. She’d killed one child and the other two were near death.
That was the first time Lo killed anyone. She’d snuck out and slipped straight into Stars, visiting a
thirteen-year-old Dolyn and a six-year-old Hyde, before delivering her own brand of justice to their
wretched mother.
The demon had been so vile that no one had mourned her death. Not her two mates, and not her
remaining two children. But we had all mourned Dylan’s death.
Lo still wouldn’t breathe his name to anyone except Dolyn, and only if he brought it up first.
Fuck. Now I needed the liquor Sloane had asked for. I’d tuned out their conversation long enough
to feel lost.
“Wondering what?” Lo was replying to the mage.
That was when I knew I needed to step in and tell her the last little bit of the mate business. I had
to perk up first, or she’d drag me aside and question where my attention had gone and why I was
working so hard to block her out.
“Sooooo,” I interrupted in a sing-song voice. “Four apprentices, two Princes, and the future
Queen of Supes walk into a bar...” I let my poor attempt at a joke trail off as I wiggled my hips
suggestively, “Now, you’re just missing one more, bitch, and then you can really get this party
started.”
I was eager to see how long it would take them to figure it out and who caught on first, but I knew
Lo would blow a gasket the moment his name was spoken aloud.
The druid was a sore spot for her.
I’d been searching for him since he disappeared, and I’d come to the conclusion a couple of
months ago that he’d be kidnapped…
Taken?
Abducted?
Didn’t matter what we called it. He hadn’t left her high and dry like she’d been believing all this
time. I didn’t think he had it in him to leave her at all, so something must have been going on that was
bad enough for him to sacrifice himself to keep her safe.
Time was not on our side with the upcoming manhunt, though. He had to be found. She had to
move past her issues with him. She would need every single one of these assholes to fight what was
coming for her.
That was yet another secret I had to keep from her.
I couldn’t tell her and risk changing the course that was laid out for her.
The Fates would have my balls for breakfast if I fucked up their vision of the future.
 Tats & Torture

I growled under my breath as I shoved the contract away. All work and no play made me ill as
fuck.
My vampire blew through my suite door, into my bedroom, and then back to my desk in a
matter of seconds. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as he hauled me down the stairs with my shoes in his grasp.
Briggs joined us in the living room, pulling up the sleeves of his hoodie. “We’re taking you to get
a tattoo, Barbie. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Not an option,” he popped back.
“Wait,” Novak sang, holding his hand out to stop the conversation. “Is Sloane King scared of
needles?”
“Uhm, no.” I quirked a brow. “Why would I be?”
Stone hummed, smirking at me as he instigated. “Are you sure?”
“Shit starter,” I mumbled before answering. “Pretty sure I lost my head last week. Needles aren’t
that bad.”
Another random document with
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Amores: elegías
amatorias
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
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Title: Amores: elegías amatorias

Author: Ovid

Release date: May 7, 2022 [eBook #68015]

Language: Spanish

Original publication: Spain: Librerías de Juan Mariana y Sanz, editor,

1878

Credits: Ramón Pajares Box and the Online Distributed Proofreading

Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Biblioteca Nacional de
España.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMORES:

ELEGÍAS AMATORIAS ***
OVIDIO.
LOS AMORES.
 AMORES.

ELEGÍAS AMATORIAS
DE

OVIDIO,
por primera vez publicadas en lengua castellana.

Traduccion hecha sobre el original latino por dos

literatos valencianos.

VALENCIA; 1878.

Librerías de Juan Mariana y Sanz, editor,

librero de la Universidad y Ayuntamiento,
Bajada de S. Francisco,
núm. 11.
Lonja de la Seda,
núm. 7.
 Esta obra es propiedad de su
editor Sr. Mariana y Sanz, y todos
los ejemplares llevarán su sello
para los efectos de la Ley.

Valencia 1878.—Imp. de M.
Alufre, Quevedo, 17.
 EPÍGRAMA
DE P. OVIDIO NASON,
SOBRE SUS AMORES.

Nosotros que éramos poco há en número de cinco libros, somos

ahora solo tres: Ovidio, nuestro padre, así lo ha preferido. Si no
experimentais gusto alguno al leernos, la disminucion de dos libros
aliviará vuestro enfado.
 LOS TRADUCTORES.

No hay español medianamente instruido, siquiera no posea la

lengua del Lacio, que no conozca á Ovidio por sus célebres
Metamórfosis, vertidas al castellano desde antiguo por Antonio
Perez Sigler, Felipe Mey y otros; vulgar se ha hecho ya el
conocimiento del mismo eminente poeta por su famoso Arte de
amar, cuya última edicion española ha publicado recientemente el
editor del presente libro; á quien registre nuestras bibliotecas no ha
de ser difícil saborear en la propia lengua de Castilla la traduccion
que D. Sebastian de Albarado tituló Heroyda Ovidiana y hasta las
Epístolas amatorias, causa, segun se dice, de la desgracia y
destierro de su autor, que tiempo há fueron traducidas por Diego
Megía; pero los Amores, obra la más expontáneamente producida
por el génio poético del voluptuoso Ovidio, los Amores, que reflejan
fielmente la manera más íntima de ser y de pensar, no solo de su
autor, sino de la juventud romana de su época; los Amores, que
marcan el grado de la corrupcion de costumbres de la corte de
Augusto, digna, por más de un concepto, de profundo estudio; esos
Amores son poco conocidos en el mundo literario, y jamás hasta
ahora, que sepamos, han sido traducidos á la lengua castellana.
¿Es menguado, acaso, el mérito de las elegías amorosas del
autor de las Metamórfosis?
De ningun modo: Ovidio habia nacido poeta; y á pesar suyo, á
pesar de la promesa de no componer más versos, hecha á su padre
al pedirle perdon, diciendo: «Parce mihi, nunquam versificabo,
pater!», los versos, como el anterior, brotaban naturalmente de su
mente, como el agua desbordada de manantial fecundo, hasta el
punto de confesar él mismo: «Quid quid tentabam scribere, versus
erat.» Poeta por naturaleza, entre todos los géneros de poesía, el
que mejor se adaptaba á su génio é inclinaciones, era sin duda el
amoroso.
 En vano se propone escribir un poema en doce cantos, para
celebrar al jigante de cien manos Gyges, hijo del cielo y de la tierra;
su musa es el amor: «hoc quoque jussit amor!»
Ahora bien; ¿dónde más en su centro pudo encontrarse el génio
poético de Ovidio que al cantar sus propios amores?
Corina, la bella Corina, semejante á Lais y á Semíramis, y
principal objeto de las elegías amorosas de Ovidio, es á este poeta
lo que Delia á Tibulo, lo que Lesbia á Catullo, lo que Cynthia á
Propercio, lo que Lycoris á Galo, lo que Lydia, Gliceria, Cloris,
Phyllida, Licia, Phillis, Neera, Tyndaris y Pyrrhe al voluble Horacio[1].
Del mismo modo á Ovidio, que públicamente ama á Corina,
tampoco le son indiferentes la camarera Cypassis, la peinadora
Nape y otras que no nombra, pero que tambien le inspiran bellos
versos como protectoras de sus intrigas amorosas, á cuya sombra
se ocultan.
Al desaparecer estos pasajeros amores, no queda en el pecho del
poeta otro afecto más íntimo que el recuerdo de la amistad
consagrado á su inolvidable compañero Tibulo, á cuya sentida
muerte dedica una de sus más bellas elegías de este libro, en la que
evoca los queridos nombres de Calvo, Catullo y Galo, cantores del
amor, cuyos nombres figuran juntamente en el Eliseo.
Solo otra de las elegías iguala tal vez á esta en fuerza de
conviccion y de sentimiento, y es la XV del libro I, dirigida contra los
detractores de la poesía.
La poesía, la amistad, el amor, hé aquí la trilogia que comprende
toda la vida de Ovidio; tales son la delicia, el consuelo y la
necesidad de su alma. ¿Dónde, pues, ha podido reflejarse mejor
esta, que en las elegías dedicadas á sus más íntimos afectos?
Leyendo las Metamórfosis se puede apreciar la erudicion
mitológica, el ingénio para elegir, la facultad para poetizar de Ovidio;
en Arte de amar hace gala de su aptitud didáctica; pero para
conocer á Ovidio como poeta y como hombre, es necesario leer sus
Amores.
 Verdad es que nada tienen de honestos tales Amores, que no
serian dignos de leerse, á no estar engalanados con toda la mágia
de la poesía y de la originalidad. En efecto, los Amores de Ovidio,
que no tienen la tristeza de Tibulo, ni el buen humor y sencillez de
Horacio; que están lejos de los arrebatos de Catulo, y aun más lejos
del insulso platonismo de la mayor parte de los poetas eróticos, son
la expresion del placer y de la voluptuosidad en toda su desnudez,
pero presentada con el decoro del arte.
Si es digna de condenarse á perecer esta clásica obra, cuya
traduccion presentamos, no deben por igual razon quedar en pié las
clásicas estátuas de Vénus, que tambien con toda su desnudez,
pero con el decoro del arte, nos legó la antigüedad, como
representacion de la voluptuosidad, del placer y de la belleza, si es
que otra cosa no representa la infiel esposa de Vulcano y lasciva
amante de Adónis.

NOTAS AL PIE:

[1] Ello, no obstante, dice de él el Sr. Alarcon en su

discurso de recepcion por la Real Academia Española, que
fué constantemente moral y muchas veces moralista en sus
inmortales versos.
LIBRO PRIMERO.
 ELEGIA PRIMERA.
ARGUMENTO.

Por qué el poeta pasa de los versos heróicos á los eróticos.

Las armas y las encarnizadas batallas me preparaba á cantar en
forma heróica. Los versos eran todos de igual medida, pero dicen
que se echó á reir Cupido y acortó un pié. ¿Quién, niño cruel, te ha
dado tal derecho sobre la poesía? De las musas, y no tuyo, somos
cortejo los vates. ¿Qué se diria si Vénus se cubriese con las armas
de Minerva ó si esta atizase tu hacha para avivar su llama? ¿Quién
hallaria conforme que Céres reinase en las frondosas selvas y la
vírgen del Carcax presidiese el cultivo de los campos? ¿Apolo, el de
los rubios cabellos, será armado de aguda lanza mientras que Marte
hará vibrar las cuerdas de la lira Aonia? Demasiado grande y
demasiado poderoso, ¡oh muchacho! es tu imperio; ¿por qué aun
quieres extenderlo más? ¿Es todo tuyo? ¿son tuyos el monte
Helicon y el valle de Tempe? ¿Tambien ha de ser tuya la lira de
Apolo? El primer verso principiaba rotundamente mi nuevo poema,
cuando el Amor acorta repentinamente mi brio. Para inspirarme
versos más ligeros, no tengo ni un jóven ó una jóven de blondos
cabellos, que me den pié.
Apenas me habia quejado, cuando desligando su carcax, sacó
flechas destinadas á herirme y despues de tender fuertemente sobre
la rodilla su flexible arco: «Recibe, dijo, oh vate, asunto que
cantar.»—¡Infeliz de mí! el niño acertó la puntería. Me abrasó, y en
mi pecho, hasta ahora vacío, reina el Amor. Comencé mi obra con
seis piés y acabé con cinco. Adios, sangrientas guerras; adios, ritmo
bélico. Ciñe tu rubia cabeza con el verde mirto, Musa mia, que no
tienes que modular más que once piés en cada dos versos.
 ELEGIA SEGUNDA.
ARGUMENTO.

Descríbese el triunfo del amor.

¿Podrá haber quien me diga por qué me parece tan duro mi
lecho, por qué mi cubrecama no puede permanecer sobre él, por
qué esta tan larga noche ha pasado sin poder yo conciliar el sueño,
y por qué, aun echado, me duelen todos los huesos? Comprendo
que así sucediera, si algun amor viniese á tentarme. ¿Por dónde
traidoramente se desliza y callado me hiere con sus artificios? Sí,
eso es: agudas flechas han penetrado mi corazon, que fiero, el amor
trata como pais conquistado. ¿Me daré por vencido, ó, luchando,
daré pábulo á esta súbita llama? Cedamos: leve se hace la carga
cuando se la sabe llevar. Crecen las llamas cuando se las combate
soplando, y se extinguen cuando nadie las toca. Más golpes llevan
los bueyes que repelen el yugo, que los habituados á llevarlo. El
caballo indómito es duramente regido, y ménos siente el freno el
que está pronto á marchar al combate. Así tambien el Amor apremia
más cruelmente á los rebeldes que á los que se conforman á
prestarle vasallaje.
¡Yo lo confieso, soy tu nueva presa, Cupido! somos los vencidos
que extendemos las manos ante tu poder. No hay necesidad de
guerra; paz y perdon te imploramos. Pero no mereces alabanza en
vencer con tus armas á un hombre inerme. Corónale de mirto, unce
las palomas de tu madre; el mismo Marte te dará el carro que te
conviene, y sobre ese carro, en medio de las aclamaciones del
pueblo, te erigirás triunfador, y guiarás con arte las uncidas aves.
Seguiránte jóvenes cautivos y cautivas niñas. Esta será la pompa de
tu magnífico triunfo, y yo mismo, postrer víctima, estaré allí con mi
reciente herida, y, esclavo sumiso, arrastraré mi nueva cadena. La
Moralidad será conducida con las manos atadas tras la espalda, lo
mismo que el Pudor y cuanto es obstáculo á las armas del Amor.
Todos te temerán y, extendiendo hácia tí sus brazos, entonará el
pueblo con grandes voces «¡Victoria!» Las caricias serán tus
compañeras, y la ilusion y la locura tu inseparable escolta. Con este
ejército somete los hombres y los dioses. Alegre tu Madre te
aplaudirá triunfador, desde lo alto del Olimpo, y esparcirá rosas
sobre tu frente. Tus alas y tus cabellos se adornarán con piedras
preciosas, y resplandeciente como el oro, serás conducido por las
doradas ruedas de tu carro. Tambien entonces, si mal no te
conozco, inflamarás no pocos corazones; tambien entonces abrirás
á tu paso muchas heridas. Tus flechas, aunque lo quisieras, no
pueden estar quietas, tu férvida llama quema aun en medio del
agua.
Tal era Baco cuando triunfó del pais donde corre el Ganges: tú
eres conducido por aves, él lo fué por tigres; así, pues, que forme yo
parte de tu sacra comitiva; no quieras perder el derecho del
vencedor. Contempla la feliz conquista de tu pariente César: con la
misma mano con que los vence proteje á los vencidos.
 ELEGIA TERCERA.
ARGUMENTO.

Se recomienda á su querida por las excelencias de la poesía, la

pureza de sus costumbres y la fidelidad á toda prueba, que
ofrece.
Mi plegaria es justa: que la niña que há poco me han robado, ó
me ame, ó haga por que le ame toda mi vida. ¡Ah, demasiado he
ambicionado! que solamente me permita amarla. Ojalá Venus oyera
mis súplicas. Acepta un amante que te servirá por largos años,
acepta un amante que sabe amar con fidelidad eterna.
Si no me recomiendan ilustres apellidos de antigua familia; si mi
abuelo era solo un caballero particular, y si las tierras de mi casa no
se remueven con innumerables arados y mis padres restringen mi
escaso gasto, recomiéndenme no solamente Apolo y sus nueve
compañeras y el inventor de la viña, sino tambien el Amor que me
entrega á tí, y la fidelidad á que nadie me hará faltar; mis
costumbres sin tacha, mi inocente sencillez, y mi rubicundo pudor.
No me gustan todas: no soy burlador de Amores. Tú sola, si me
correspondes con la misma fidelidad, serás siempre mi perene
cuidado. Ojalá pase junto á tí los años que la Parca me deje, y
muera con sentimiento tuyo.
Dame feliz tema para mis versos y serán dignos de quien los
inspira. A la poesía deben su celebridad la ninfa Io, asustada de sus
cuernos; y aquella á quien el adúltero sedujo, trasformado en
Cisne[2], y la que robada por un fingido toro se cogió á sus largos
cuernos con virgínea mano[3]. Nosotros tambien seremos cantados
por todo el mundo, y siempre citarán unidos tu nombre y el mio.

NOTAS AL PIE:
[2] Leda.
[3] Europa.
 ELEGIA CUARTA.
ARGUMENTO.

Antes de cenar con su querida le indica las señas con que

podrán manifestarse su mútuo amor á presencia del marido.
Tu marido ha de cenar con nosotros; ¡así sea esta su última cena!
¿mientras tanto solo contemplaré á mi amada como convidado? ¿El
derecho de estar junto á ella será de otro? ¿Recostada con él darás
nuevo calor á su seno? ¿Cuando guste, pasará su mano sobre tu
cuello? No atiendas á la que tras el festin de su boda[4] puso en
guerra á los deformes Centauros. Yo no habito las selvas, ni soy
medio caballo como ellos, pero me parece que apenas podré
contenerme. Aprende lo que tienes que hacer y no dejes que se
lleven mis palabras ni el Euro ni el tibio Noto.
Llega ántes que tu marido; no preveo aun así qué puede hacerse,
pero vé primero. Cuando se acerque á la mesa, irás con aire
modesto á ponerte á su lado; procurando el oculto contacto de
nuestros piés. Observa lo que te indiquen mis señas y el lenguaje de
mis ojos. Mira y devuelve del mismo modo las furtivas señas. Sin
voz le hablarán mis cejas y leerás palabras trazadas con los dedos.
Cuando te ocurra la idea de nuestros placeres, toca con el tierno
índice tus sonrosadas mejillas. Si quieres darme alguna secreta
queja, suspenda el extremo de tu oreja tu blanda mano. Cuando te
plazca, sol mio, lo que yo haga ó diga, haz rodar tu sortija al rededor
de tus dedos. Pon las manos sobre la mesa del modo como cuando
suplicantes piden para tu marido todos los males que merece.
Cuando él te escancie el vino, haz que se lo beba, y pide despues
por lo bajo al criado que te sirva el que prefieras. Yo tomaré el
primero la copa que tú dejes y beberé en ella por la misma parte por
donde tú hayas bebido. Si por casualidad te ofrece el vino libado
ántes por él, rehúsalo. No permitas que oprima tu cuello con
indignas caricias, ni reposes tu cabeza sobre su rudo pecho; sobre
todo, guárdate de darle besos. Si se los das, yo me declararé
públicamente tu amante, diciendo «son mios;» y se los disputaré
con mis manos.
Estas caricias, sin embargo, las veré; pero las que me ocultará la
cubierta de la mesa serán mi mayor tormento. No juntes, pues, ni
tus piernas, ni tus rodillas á las de tu marido, ni roces con tu
delicado pié, su pié grosero.
Temo, infeliz, muchos males, porque muchos males hice, y me
atormento con el temor de mi mismo ejemplo. Muchas veces mi
querida y yo hemos estimulado bajo los vestidos que nos cubrian, el
momento del dulce placer. Tú no harás eso; pero, para ahuyentar
toda duda, desnuda tus espaldas del manto que las cubre. Ruega
contínuamente á tu marido que beba, pero sin acompañar las
súplicas con besos; y mientras beba, añádele furtivamente si
puedes vino puro, y si se deja caer por efecto del sueño y del vino,
nos aconsejarán el sitio y las circunstancias.
Cuando te levantes y todos nos levantemos para irnos á casa, no
olvides introducirte en medio de la comitiva; allí me encontrarás ó
allí te encontraré, y entonces tienta de mí lo que puedas.
¡Infeliz de mí! Te he enseñado lo que debe aprovechar para pocas
horas, pues la noche manda separarme de mi compañera. Su
marido se encerrará con ella toda la noche, y yo, bañado de
lágrimas, no podré seguirle sino hasta la puerta. Le dará besos,
despues se tomará algo más que besos, y le darás como un deber,
lo que á mí me concedes furtivamente; pero no te prestes, esto te es
posible, sino de mala gana y como á la fuerza. Callen las caricias, y
séale Vénus avara. Si de algo sirven mis votos, él no hallará placer
alguno; á lo menos tú no lo recibas de él. Por lo demás,
cualesquiera que sean los sucesos esta noche, niégame mañana
porfiadamente haberle concedido cosa alguna.

NOTAS AL PIE:

[4] Hippodamia