DE CULTU DEORUM ET VITA HOMINUM

Introduction.

Below are seven verse extracts on the theme "On the worship of the gods and the life of men". Sabidius' English translations follow the Latin texts, which are taken from the "Cambridge Anthology", Cambridge University Press, 1996. 

1.  A country festival (Horace: Odes, Book III, carmen 18).

Faune, Nympharum fugientem amator,

per meos fines et aprica rura

lenis incedas abeasque parvis

   aequus alumnis,

si tener pleno cadit haedus anno,

larga nec desunt veneris sodali

vina craterae, vetus ara multo

   fumat odore. 

ludit herboso pecus omne campo,

cum tibi Nonae redeunt Decembres;

festus in pratis vacat otioso 

   cum bove pagus;

inter audaces lupus errat agnos;

spargit agrestes tibi silva frondes;

gaudet invisam pepulisse fossor

   ter pede terram.

Faunus, lover of the flying Nymphs, may you pass lightly over my boundaries and sunny fields and may you leave the small nurslings in a kindly manner. Since, the year having been fulfilled, a young kid falls (to you in sacrifice), and generous wines are not lacking to the mixing bowl, Venus' companion, the old altar smokes with much fragrance. The whole herd plays in the grassy field, when the Nones of December comes round again in your honour; the village on holiday relaxes with the ox unyoked; a wolf wanders among the fearless sheep; the wood scatters rustic leaves in your honour; the digger rejoices to stamp on the hateful earth three times with his foot.

2.  Recipe for happiness (Martial: Epigrams 10, 47).

vitam quae faciunt beatiorem,

iuncundissime Martialis, haec sunt;

res non parta labore sed relicta;

non ingratus ager, focus perennis;

lis numquam, toga rara, mens quieta;

vires ingenuae, salubrae corpus,

prudens simplicitas, pares amici, 

convictus facilis, sine arte mensa;

nox non ebria sed soluta curis,

non tristis torus et tamen pudicus,

somnus qui faciat breves tenebras;

quod sis esse velis nihilque malis;

summum nec metuas diem nec optes.

These, dearest Martial, are (the things) which make for a happier life; wealth not earned by labour but bequeathed; land not unproductive, an ever-burning hearth; a lawsuit never, a toga seldom seen, an untroubled mind; the vigour of a free-born man, a healthy body, sensible openness, like-minded friends, an easy social life, a table without artifice; a night not drunken but free from cares, a marriage-bed not gloomy and yet faithful, a sleep  to make the darkness brief; may you wish to be what you are, and may you prefer nothing (else); may you neither fear your final day nor long for (it). 

3.  Spring and thoughts of mortality (Horace, Odes, Book IV, carmen 7).

diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis

   arboribusque comae;

mutat terra vices, et descrentia ripas

   flumina praetereunt;

Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet

   ducere nuda choros.

immortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum

   quae rapit hora diem:

frigora mitescunt Zephyris, ver proterit aestas

   interitura simul

pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox

   bruma recurrit iners.

damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae:

   nos ubi decidimus

quo pater Aeneas, quo Tullus dives et Ancus,

   pulvis et umbra sumus.

quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae

  tempora di superi?

cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico

   quae dederis animo.

cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos

   fecerit arbitria,

non, Torquate, genus, non te faciunda, non te 

   restituet pietas;o 

infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum

   liberat Hippolytum,

nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro

   vincula Pirithoo. 

The snow has disappeared, now grass has returned to the fields and foliage to the trees; the earth has changed her seasons, and the subsiding rivers flow between their banks; a Grace, with Nymphs and her twin sisters, ventures to conduct naked dances. The year and the hour which hurries away the day warns (you) not to hope for immortality: the cold is lessened by the West Winds, summer tramples upon spring (and) will perish as soon as fruitful autumn has poured forth its produce, and soon lifeless winter returns. Yet the swiftly passing moons repair their losses in the sky: (but) we, when we go downwards (to the place) where father Aeneas, (and) where rich Tullus and Ancus (have gone down), are dust and shadow. Who knows whether the gods above are adding tomorrow's hours to today's total? Everything which you have bestowed on your own dear self will have escaped the greedy hands of your heir. When once and for all you will have died, and Minos will have made his stately verdict about you, no noble birth, no eloquence, no sense of duty, will bring you back, Torquatus; for Diana does not free chaste Hippolytus from infernal darkness, nor does Theseus have the power to break off the fetters of Lethe from his dear Pirithous.

4.  Elysium (Virgil: Aeneid, Book VI, lines 638-644; 648-649; 652-655; 660-665).

devenere locos laetos et amoena virecta
fortunatorum nemorum sedesque beatas.
largior hic campos aether et lumine vestit
purpureo, solemque suum, sua sidera norunt.
pars in gramineis exercent membra palaestris,
contendunt ludo et fulva luctantur harena;
pars pedibus plaudunt choreas et carmina dicunt.
hic genus antiquum Teucri, pulcherrima proles,
magnanimi heroes, nati melioribus annis.
stant terra defixae hastae passimque soluti
per campum pascuntur equi. quae gratia currum
armorumque fuit vivis, quae cura nitentes
pascere equos, eadem sequitur tellure repostos.
hic manus ob patriam pugnando vulnera passi,
quique sacerdotes casti, dum vita manebat,
quique pii vates et Phoebo digna locuti,
inventas aut qui vitam excoluere per artes,
quique sui memores aliquos fecere merendo:
omnibus his nivea cingitur tempora vitta.


They came down to the joyous places and the lovely lawns and the blessed homes of the fortunate groves. Here (there is) a more generous air and it clothes the plains in a dazzling light, and they get to know their own sun (and) their own stars. Some exercise their limbs in grassy exercise-grounds, contend in sport and wrestle on golden sand; others beat out the (rhythm of) dances with their feet and sing songs. Here (is) the ancient line of Teucer, the fairest breed, great-hearted heroes, born in better years. Fixed in the ground, their spears stand (on end), and the horses, let loose in all directions, graze over the plain. The pleasure in their chariots and weapons which was (theirs) while alive, the care which (was theirs while alive) to feed their glossy horses, the same care follows (them) now laid in the ground. Here (is) a band (of men) having suffered wounds in fighting for the fatherland, and (those) who (were) holy priests, while life remained, and (those) who (were) dutiful prophets and (who) spoke (words) worthy of Phoebus, or (those) who enriched life through the skills they had discovered, and those who made some mindful of them by their being of service: the temples of all these are garlanded with a snow-white head-band.

5.  Live now! (Martial: Epigrammata, Book I, 15, lines 11-12).


non est, crede mihi, sapientis dicere "vivam",
   sera nimis vita est crastina: vive hodie!


It is not, believe me, the mark of a wise man to say "I shall live"; tomorrow's life is too late: live for today!

6.  The only form of immortality (Seneca).


carmina sola carent fato mortemque repellunt.
   carminibus vives semper, Homere, tuis.


Poetry alone escapes fate and repels death. Homer, may you live forever in your songs.

7.  The poet's advice to mourners (Lucretius: De Rerum Natura, Book III, lines 894-903.

"iam iam non domus accipiet te laeta neque uxor
optima, nec dulces occurrent oscula nati
praeripere et tacita pectus dulcedine tangent.
non poteris factis florentibus esse tuisquelearly in their minds
praesidium. misero misere" aiunt "omnia ademit
una dies infesta tibi tot praemia vitae."
illud in his rebus non addunt "nec tibi earum
iam desiderium rerum super insidet una."
quod bene si videant animo dictisque sequantur,
dissolvant animi magno se angore metuque.


"No longer now will a joyful home or the best of wives receive you, nor will sweet children run up to snatch kisses and touch your heart with a sweetness beyond words. You will not be able to be a protection to your prospering affairs and to your family." They say, "One fatal day has unhappily taken away from your wretched self all the many rewards of life." But in these matters they do not add the following: "Yet now a longing  for these things does not any more remain together with you."  If they were to see this clearly in their minds and follow (it) with words, they would free themselves from great distress of mind and fear.

VITA RUSTICA ET VITA URBANA

Introduction.


The following five verse pieces, depicting aspects of "Country Life" and "Town Life", are taken  from the "Cambridge Latin Anthology", Cambridge University Press, 1996. Both the Latin texts and Sabidius' translations into English are shown.




1. The city, hour by hour (Martial: Epigrams, Book IV. 8).


prima salutantes atque altera conterit hora;
   exercet raucos tertia causidicos;
in quintam varios extendit Roma labores;
   sexta quies lassis, septima finis erit; 
sufficit in nonam nitidis octava palaestris;
   imperat exstructos frangere nona toros:
hora libellorum decima est, Eupheme, meorum,
   temperat ambrosias cum tua cura dapes,
et bonus aetherio laxatur nectare Caesar,
   ingentique tenet pocula parca manu.
tunc admitte iocos: gressu timet ire licenti
   ad matutinum nostra Thalia Iovem.

The first hour and the second exhaust callers; the third (hour) keeps hoarse pleaders busy; Rome extends her various labours to the end of the fifth (hour); the sixth (hour) will be a siesta for weary (men), the seventh (will be) the end (of work); the eighth (hour) to the end of the ninth (hour) gives time enough for the glistening exercise grounds; the ninth (hour) bids (men) to rumple the couches piled high (with cushions): the tenth, Euphemus, is the hour of my little books, when your care rules the ambrosial feasts, and good Caesar is relaxed by heavenly nectar and he holds the small cups in his mighty hand. Then admit my pleasantries: my Thalia with her cheeky walk is afraid to approach Jupiter in the morning. 

2.  The sights, sounds and seasons of the countryside (Ovid: Remedia Amoris, lines 175-184, 187-190).

aspice curvatos pomorum pondere ramos
   ut sua, quod peperit, vix ferat arbor onus.
aspice labentes iucundo murmure ruros:
   aspice tondentes fertile gramen oves.
ecce petunt rupes praeruptaque saxa capellae:
   iam referant haedis ubera plena suis.
pastor inaequali modulatur harundine carmen,
   nec desunt comites, sedula turba, canes.
parte sonant alia sivae mugitionibus altae,
   et queritur vitulum mater abesse suum.
poma dat autumnus: formosa est messibus aestas;
   ver praebet flores; igne levatur hiems.
temporibus certis maturam rusticus uvam
   deligit, et nudo sub pede musta fluunt.

Look at the branches bent by the weight of their apples, so that each tree can scarcely bear the burden which it has produced. Look at the streams gliding by with pleasant murmuring: look at the sheep grazing in the lush grass. Behold the she-goats seek the crags and the steep rocks: now they carry back full udders to their kids. The shepherd plays a tune (on a pipe) with reeds of unequal length, and his companions, the dogs, a bustling crowd, are not lacking. In another place the deep woods resound with lowing, and a mother complains that her calf is missing. Autumn brings apples: the summer is beautiful with harvests; spring provides flowers; winter is relieved by fires. At fixed times, the countryman gathers the ripe grape, and under his bare feet the new wine flows.  

3.  Thoughts of home (Ovid: Ex Ponto, Book I. 8. lines 29-38).hea

nec tu credideris urbanae commoda vitae
   quaerere Nasonem, quaerit et illa tamen.
nam modo vos animo, dulces, reminiscor, amici,
   nunc mihi cum cara coniuge nata subit;
aque doem rursus pulchrae loca vertor ad Urbis,
   cunctaque mens oculis pervidet usa suis.
nunc fora, nunc aedes, nunc marmore tecta theatra,
   nunc subit aequata porticus omnis humo.
gramina nunc Campi pulchros spectantis in hortos,
   stagnaque et euripi Virgineusque liquor.

You should not believe that Ovid misses the benefits of urban life, and yet he does miss them. For, at one time, I recall to my mind you, my sweet friends, at another time my daughter, together with my dear wife, comes to mind for me; and I turn once more from my home to the places of the beautiful City, and my mind, using its own eyes, surveys everything. Now the fora, now the temples, now the theatres roofed with marble, now each colonnade with its levelled ground, comes to mind. Now (there comes to mind) the grasses of the Field (of Mars) facing towards beautiful gardens, and the pools, and the canals, and the waters of the Aqua Virgo.  


4.  A country spring (Horace: Odes, Book III, carmen 13).

O fons Bandusiae, splendidior vitro,
dulci digne mero non sine floribus,
   cras donaberis haedo,
      cui frons tugida cornibus


primis et venerem et proelia destinat.
frustra: nam gelidos inficiet tibi
   rubro sanguine rivos
      lascivi suboles gregis.


te flagrantis atrox hora Caniculae
nescit tangere, tu frigus amabile
   fessis vomere tauris
      praebes et pecori vago.


fies nobilium tu quoque fontium,
me dicente cavis impositam ilicem
   saxis, unde loquaces
      lymphae desiliunt tuae.

O spring of Bandusia, more brilliant than glass, worthy of sweet wine, not without flowers (too), tomorrow you will be presented with a kid, whose forehead, swollen with newly-grown horns, presages both love and battles. In vain: for the offspring of the playful flock will stain your cold streams with red blood. The cruel hour of the blazing Dog Star does not know how to touch you, (and) you provide welcome coolness for the oxen, weary from the ploughshare, and for the wandering flock.  You too will become (one) of the famous springs, (with) me describing the holm-oak overhanging the hollowed-out rocks, from where your chattering waters tumble down.  

5.  The town mouse and the country mouse (Horace: Satires, Book II, 6, lines 79-117).


                                                                 olim
rusticus urbanum murem mus paupere fertur
accepisse cavo, veterem vetus hospes amaicum,
asper et attentus quaesitis, ut tamen artum
solveret hospitis animum. quid multa? neque ille
sepositi ciceris nec longae invidit avenae,
aridum et ore ferens acinum semesque lardi
frustra dedit, cupiens varia fastidia cena
vincere tangentis male singula dente superbo,
cum pater ipse domus palea porrectus in horna
esset ador loliumque, dapis meliora relinquens.
tandem urbanus ad hunc "quid te iuvat" inquit "amice,
praerupti nemoris patientiem vivere dorso?
vis tu homines, urbemque feris praeponere silvis?
carpe viam, mihi crede, comes; terrestria quando
mortales animas vivunt sortita, neque ulla est
aut magno aut parvo leti fuga: quo, bone, circa,
dum licet, in rebus iucundis vive beatus;
vive memor, quam sis aevi brevis." haec ubi dicta
agrestem pepulere, domo levis exsilit; inde
ambo propositum peragunt iter, urbis aventes
moenia nocturni subrepere. iamque tenebat
nox medium caeli spatium, cum ponit uterque
in locuplete domo vestigia, rubro ubi cocco
tincta super lectos canderet vestis eburnos,
multaque de magna superesset fercula cena,
quae procul exstructis inerant hesterna canistris.
ergo ubi purpurea porrectum in veste locavit
agrestem, veluti succinctus cursitat hospes
continuatque dapes nec non verniliter ipsis
fungitur officiis, praelambens omne quod affert.
ille cubans gaudet mutata sorte bonisque
rebus agit laetum convivam, cum subito ingens
valvarum strepitus lectis excussit utrumque.
currere per totum pavidi conclave, magisque.
exanimes trepidare, simul domus alta Molossis
personuit canibus. tum rusticus "haud mihi vita
est opus hac" ait et "valeas: me silva cavusque
tutusque ab insidiis tenui solabitur ervo." 
                                                                                                  
Once upon a time, a country mouse is said to have received a town mouse into his humble mouse-hole, an old host to have received an old friend, a rough type and careful with his gains, even if however he relaxed his thrifty soul with acts of hospitality. What more (can I say)? He begrudged neither his stored-up chickpeas nor his long oats, and, carrying in his mouth a dry grape and half-eaten scraps of bacon, he offered (them) up, wanting to overcome with his varied dinner the fastidiousness (of one) barely touching the individual items with his haughty teeth, while the master of the house himself, stretched out in this year's chaff, ate grain and grass, leaving the better parts of the feast. Finally, the town mouse said to him, "Why does it please you, my friend, to live uncomplaining on the steep summit of a wood? Would you (not) wish to put men and the town before the wild woods? Take to the road (as) my companion, believe me; since earthly creatures live, having been allotted with mortal souls, there is not any escape from death either for the great or for the small: for this reason, my good (fellow), while it is permitted, live happily , in pleasant circumstances; live remembering how  short-lived you are." When these words (had) impressed the country mouse, he jumped nimbly out of the house; they both undertook the proposed journey, eager to creep under the walls of the city by night. And now night was holding the middle space of the sky, when each of them set their footprints in a wealthy house, where a covering dyed with bright scarlet gleamed over the ivory couches, and many dishes (of food) were left over from a great dinner, which from yesterday were in heaped baskets (not too) far off. Therefore, when he placed the country (mouse), stretched out on a purple coverlet, the host runs about girt-up and keeps supplying the feast, and also like a house-slave he performs every single duty, tasting in advance everything which he brings. He (i.e. the country mouse), reclining, rejoices in his changed luck and in the good things, (and) he acted (as) the happy guest, when suddenly a great noise from the doors shook each of them off the couches. Terrified, they ran through the whole room, and, petrified, they were more alarmed, as soon as the deep house resounded with (the noise of) Molossian hounds. Then the country (mouse) said, "There is no need of this (kind of) life for me," and "Farewell: my wood and my hole, safe from ambush, with a little vetch, will console me."    

ARISTOPHANES: "THE FROGS" - AN EXTRACT

Introduction.

Aristophanes (c.445-385 B.C.) was the greatest writer of Athenian Old Comedy (richly topical, satyrical, bawdy), and the only one whose works survive. We have eleven plays, and fragments or titles of thirty-two others. In a typical Aristophanic plot, the hero - often an ordinary Athenian - conceives an ingenious idea and is enabled by often fantastic and surreal means to carry it to fruition. In "The Frogs", unusually, the hero is a god. The Dionysus we meet here (cowardly, mocking and mocked) is very different from the chilling figure in Euripides' "Bacchus". "The Frogs" won first prize at the festival of the Lenaea in 405 B.C. Aristophanes is writing against the backdrop of the final stages of the Peloponnesian War, and in the following year Athens was forced to surrender when its corn supplies were cut off.  

The following extract is taken from "A Greek Anthology", JACT, Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Lines 164-241. 

Prologue. As god of the theatre, Dionysus, accompanied by his slave Xanthias, is making a journey to the underworld - whose marshes the frogs of the chorus inhabit - to bring back the recently dead dramatist Euripides, because Athens no longer has any good poets. Tragic poets had an especial role in influencing the ideas and attitudes of the Athenian people, and at a time of such difficulties the need for good advice was evident. Dionysus is (not very well) disguised as the hero Heracles, a famous and successful previous visitor to the underworld, and he has just been to call on the real Heracles, who is amused by his quest and his appearance, to get advice for his expedition.

[Dionysus replies to Heracles, who has just offered advice for their journey.]

Dionysus:  By Zeus, fare you well! [Heracles goes inside, and Dionysus turns to Xanthias.] But you, take the luggage up again. 

Xanthias:  Even before I have laid it down?

Di:  Yes, and very quickly! 

Xa:  Certainly not, I beg you, but hire someone from those being carried out (for burial), who is coming for this (purpose). 

Di:  And if I can't find anyone?

Xa:  Then, make me (do it).

Di:  You speak sensibly. (A funeral cortege is seen approaching, consisting of a corpse on a stretcher carried by bearers). For actually they are bringing out some corpse right here. (He approaches and addresses the corpse.) Hey, you! Yes, I mean you! You, the dead man! (The corpse sits up.) My good fellow, will you carry these bits of luggage to (the house) of Hades?

Nekros (Corpse):  How many are there?

Di:  These (bits) here.

Ne:  Will you pay (me) two drachmas (as) a wage?

Di:  By  Zeus, no, but less (than that).

Ne:  (Addressing his bearers) You lot, proceed along the way!

Di:  Wait, my good fellow, (to see) if I can agree something with you.

Ne:  Unless you put down two drachmas, do not talk (with me).

Di:  Take nine obols.

Ne: Then I'd rather return to life again. (The corpse lies down again and is carried off.)  

Di:  How haughty this accursed fellow is!

Xa:  Will he not lament (his decision)? I shall go. 

Di:  You are good and true. Let us go to the boat. 

( A wheeled boat is seen approaching, manned by the ferryman Charon.)

Charon:  Aww-up! Bring (her) alongside!

Di:  What is this?

Xa:  This? By Zeus, it is the same lake which he mentioned, and indeed I see the boat. 

Di:  By Poseidon it (is), and this fellow here is Charon. Hello, Charon!

Xa:  Hello, Charon!

Cha:  Who (is) for the retreat from woes and troubles? Who (wants to go)) to the plain of the Lethe, or to a donkey-shearing, or to the Cerberians, or to the crows or to Taenarus?

Di:  I (do).

Cha:  Quickly, get in!

Di:  Where do you expect to put in?

Cha:  At the crows.

Di:  Really?

Cha:  Yes, by Zeus, because of you! Get in then!

Di:  (Come) here, boy!

Cha:  I am not taking the slave unless he fought at sea in the (battle) of life and death (lit. concerning his flesh).

Xa:  No, indeed, by Zeus, but I happened to have sore eyes. 

Cha:  Then, will you not have to run round the lake?

Xa:  So where shall I wait up?

Cha:  By the Withering Stone at the retreat. 

Di:  Do you understand?

Xa:  I understand entirely. Alas, (I am) unlucky. With what did I meet (when) setting out?

Cha:  Sit down at the oar. If anyone else is sailing still, hurry up! Hey, you, what are you doing?

Di:  What am I doing? What (else) other than I am sitting at the oar where you commanded me?

Cha:  Then will you not sit here, fat-guts? 

Di:  See!

Cha:  Will you not put out your hands and stretch (them) out?

Di:  See!

Cha:  Do not keep on playing the fool, but, leaning forward, row energetically!

Di:  And then how can I row, being then inexperienced, unseafaring and not having been at Salamis?

Cha:  Very easily, for you will hear the most beautiful songs, when once you have pulled hard. 

Di:  Whose?

Cha:  The marvellous (songs) of the frog swans.

Di:  Then order away!

Cha:  Aww-up! up! Aww-up! up! 

(The frogs of the chorus begin to leap into view). 

Chorus:  Brekekekex koax koax.

Brekekekex koax koax. 

Marshy children of the streams,

let us utter the harmonious cry of hymns,

my sweet-sounding singing, 

koax koax, 

which in honour of Nysian

Dionysus, the (son) of Zeus,

we sang in the lakes, when the revelling

crowd of people at the holy feast of Pots

marches to my sanctuary.

Brekekekex koax koax.

Di:  I am starting to feel pain in my backside, o koax koax.

Cho:  Brekekekex koax koax.

Di:  Perhaps it is of no concern to you.

Cho: Brekekekex koax koax.

Di:  May you perish with the (cry of) koax itself;
for there is nothing (else) other than koax.

Cho:  Rightly so, O (you) busy body (lit. doing many things)!
For both the beautiful lyre-playing Muses
and the horny-hoofed Pan playing his reed-pipe love us,
and the lyre-player Apollo enjoys (us) too,
for the sake of his reed which for lyre-making
I nourish living in these lakes.
Brekekekex koax koax.

Di:  But I have blisters and my arse is sweating continuously,
and any minute now, peeping out, it will say -

Cho:  Brekekekex koax koax.

Di:  But o (you) song-loving brood,
stop!

Epilogue. The subsequent journey is eventful, but Dionysus and Xanthias finally reach the part of the underworld where Euripides is disputing the claim of the more traditional Aeschylus to the throne of tragedy. After witnessing their contest, Dionysus decides to take Aeschylus rather than Euripides back to Athens.