From Horace’s Epodes, this is a recitation which begs the curse-caster to relent and take it back. This is to be used if you are truly at your wit’s end or if you have been cursed because you had it coming.
Perhaps someone has placed some kind of hex or curse upon you and now, you wish to break it. If you find physical evidence of this hex or curse–such as a sigil, a charm bag, or some other physical marker–then great! You can burn that alongside an offering as you say the following petition. If not, simply burn a generous offering to the gods while stating the following:
iam iam efficaci do manus scientiae,
supplex et oro regna per Proserpinae,
per et Dianae non movenda numina,
per atque libros carminum valentium
refixa caelo devocare sidera,
parce vocibus tandem sacris
citumque retro solve, solve turbinem.
dedi satis superque poenarum tibi:
fugit iuventas et verecundus color
reliquit ossa pelle amicta lurida,
tuis capillus albus est odoribus.
nullum a labore me reclinat otium,
urget diem nox et dies noctem neque est
levare tenta spritu praecordia.
ergo negatum vincor ut credam miser,
Sabella pectus increpare carmina
caputque Marsa dissilire nenia.
quid amplius vis? o mare et terra, ardeo,
quantum neque atro delibutus Hercules
Nessi cruore nec Sicana fervida
virens in Aetna flamma: tu, donec cinis
iniutiosis aridus ventis ferar,
cales venenis officina Colchicis?
quae finis aut quod me manet stipendium?
effare: iussas cum fide poenas luam,
paratus expiare, seu poposceris
centum iuvencos, sive mendaci lyra
voles sonare: ‘tu pudica, tu proba
perambulabis astra sidus aureum.’
infamis Helenae Castor offensus vice
fraterque Castoris victi prece
adempta vati reddidere lumina:
et tu–potes nam–solve me dementia,
o nec in sepulcris pauperum prudens anus
novendalis dissipare pulveres;
tibi hospitale pectus et purae manus.
(Already I surrender to your potent knowledge,
and as a suppliant I implore you, by the kingdom of Proserpina,
by the immovable powers of Diana
and by those books of spells that can
call down the starts that are fixed in the sky,
please stop those sacral words,
turn back that swift spinner, turn it back!
I have paid the penalty to you enough and more than enough:
my youth has fled, the healthy flush
has left the sallow flesh that clings to my bones,
and your unguents have turned by hair white.
No respite releases me from my labour,
night follows day follows night and it is impossble
for me to breathe deeply and ease my strained heart.
And so in my misery I am compelled to believe in that which I denied:
that Samnite charms rattle my chest
and Marsian chants split my skull.
What more do you want? Earth and sea I burn!
Hercules smeared in the black gore of Nessus
did not burn this hotly, nor do the Sicilian flames
that flourish in boiling Etna! Will you keep scorching me
like a factory of Colchian poisons until I am but dry ash,
swept away by the harmful winds?
What end awaits me and what price?
Tell me: I shall gladly pay what penalty you demand!
I am ready to atone, whether you require
one hundred cattle, or if you want my deceitful lyre
to sound out, ‘you chaste woman, you upright lady,
you will walk through the heavens a golden star yourself.’
Castor incensed at the wrath of infamous Helen
and Castor’s brother were both won over by prayer
and returned to the bard the sight they had stolen from him.
You–for you have the ability–free me from this madness,
you who are not some old woman who knows how to scatter
the ninth-day ashes at paupers’ graves;
yours is a kind heart, and pure hands.)
Scatter the ashes of your curse and your offering outside where you do not often go. Make right what you have done wrong.
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