Introduction:
For an introduction to the work of the "Fasti" as a whole, the reader is referred to Sabidius' translation of Book I (concerning January), which was published on this blog on 26th January 2020.
In Book VI, Ovid continues his investigations into the religious ceremonies and festivals which marked the Roman calendar, and uses these explanations as an opportunity to recount a number of interesting and entertaining stories. The Book begins with an argument between the two goddesses, Juno and Juventas (Hebe) over which goddess the month of June is named after (ll. 1-100). Ovid then proceeds to tell the story of Carna, the goddess of hinges, who, as the nymph Cranaë, had had an affair with Janus, who had rewarded her with divine powers, powers which she used to protect the baby Proca from murderous screech-owls (ll. 101-182). The next long narrative section relates to the iconography and aetiology of the Vestalia, the festival of the goddess Vesta (ll. 249-468); in this section the cosmic identification of Vesta with the Earth, the story of Priapus' attempted rape of Vesta, the origin of the altar of Jupiter the Baker in the Gallic invasion of Rome in 390 B.C., and the rescue of the Palladium by Metellus in a fire at the goddess' temple, are all recounted. Then, there is a lengthy discussion of the significance of the Matralia, the festival of Motherhood, in which Ovid explains the origin of the cult of Mother Matuta, who, as Ino, journeyed to Italy where she was made a goddess (ll. 473-568). This is followed by the story of the murder of King Servius Tullius by his daughter and her husband, Tarquin (ll. 569-636) and, in relation to the festival of the Lesser Quinquatria, the tale of the expulsion from Rome of the flute-players and their return (ll. 651-710). The final significant episode tells of how Aesculapius brings Hippolytus back to life, and how Jupiter forgives him for his cheating the fates by so doing (ll. 733-62). The Book ends with the Muse Clio's extravagant praise of the beauty of Marcia, the wife of Ovid's patron, Paullus Fabius Maximus (ll. 801-812).
The Latin text for this translation has been taken from "Ovid's Fasti", edited by Sir James George Frazer, Harvard University Press, published by William Heinemann, London (1933), which is available on the Perseus website, sponsored by the Classical Department of Tufts University. Sabidius has also made use of the translation and accompanying notes of "Ovid: Fasti", edited by A.J. Boyle and R.D. Woodward, Penguin Books (2000), and of the translation of the "Fasti" provided by A.S. Kline on his "Poetry in Translation" website.
Proem (vv.1-100).
(a) Address to the reader (vv.1-8).
This month, too, has doubtful causes for its name: from all (those) that are listed, you, yourself, may pick (the one) that pleases (you). I will sing of (things) that happened; but there will be (some) who shall say that I have invented (them), and (who) think that no gods appear to mortal (men). There is a god within us; when he stirs, we glow: that impulse sows the seeds of sacred song (i.e. 'furor poeticus', poetic inspiration). I (have) a special right to see the faces of the gods, either because I am a bard, or because I sing of sacred (themes).
(b) The dissension of goddesses (vv. 9-100).
There is a grove, thick with trees, a place (that would be) set apart from every sound, if it were not for (the noise of) water: here I was considering what was the origin of the month (that had just) begun, and I was paying close attention to its name. Behold, I saw goddesses, (but) not (those) that the professor of farming (i.e. Hesiod, author of 'Works and Days') had seen, when he was following the flocks of Ascra (i.e. Hesiod's home village at the foot of Mount Helicon in Boeotia), nor (those) that the son of Priam had compared in the watery valleys of Ida (i.e. during the 'Judgment of Paris'): but yet, there was one of them, there was one of them, the sister of her own husband (i.e. Juno); she it was - I recognised (her) - who has a place on Jupiter's hill (i.e. the Capitoline Hill in Rome, where she had a shrine in the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, and also a temple of her own in the name of Juno Moneta). I shuddered and my thoughts were betrayed by my speechless pallor; then the goddess dispelled the fear that she herself had caused.
For she says, "O bard, (you) builder of the Roman year, bold teller of great (things) in little measures (i.e. his elegiac couplets), you won the right to see a celestial power, when you chose to establish their festivals in your verses: but lest you are unaware (of it) or you are led astray by a common error, June gets its name from my name. It is (quite) something to have married Jupiter, (and) to be Jupiter's sister: I'm not sure (if) I am prouder of my brother or my husband. If my lineage is considered, I (was the) first (to) make Saturn a father; I was the first (child) fate (granted) to Saturn. Rome was once called Saturnia after my father: for him this land was the closest to heaven. If my marriage-bed is of any significance, I am called the wife of the Thunderer, and my shrine is joined to (that) of Tarpeian (i.e. Capitoline) Jupiter. (If ) a concubine could give her name to the month of May, will this honour be begrudged to me? So, why am I called queen and chief of the goddesses, and (why) did they put that golden sceptre in my hand? Shall days (i.e. 'luces') make up the month, and from them I be called Lucina, and I shall draw my name from no month? Then I might repent of having loyally set aside my anger towards the race of Electra and the house of Dardanus (i.e. the Romans, who were descendants of the Trojans). (There was) a dual cause for my anger: I grieved at the rape of Ganymede (i.e. the handsome son of the Trojan king Laomedon, abducted by Jupiter to serve as his cup-bearer in Olympus), and my beauty was refuted by that judge on (Mount) Ida (i.e. Paris). I might regret that I did not favour the battlements of Carthage, since my chariot and armour are in that place: I might regret that I have subjected Sparta and Argos to Latium, and my Mycenae and ancient Samos: add old Tatius (i.e. the king of the Sabines) and the Juno-worshipping Falisci, whom I required to submit to the Romans. But let there be no regrets; no race is dearer to me: here I am worshipped, here I have a place in that temple with my Jupiter. Mavors, himself, said to me, 'I entrust these walls to you: you will be powerful in your grandson's city.' Fulfilment follows his words: I am worshipped at a hundred altars, nor is the honour of my month less than any (other honour). Yet Rome (is) not alone in bestowing this honour upon me: her neighbours accord me the same respect. Examine the calendar which wooded Aricia possesses, and (that of) the Laurentine people and my own Lanuvium. Look at Tibur and at the sacred walls of the goddess of Praeneste (i.e. the temple of Fortuna), (and) you will read of the time of Juno: nor did Romulus found those (cities), but Rome was my grandson's (city)."
Juno had finished; we looked back: Hercules' wife (i.e. Hebe, known as Juventas to the Romans) was standing (there), and there were signs of energy in her expression. She says, "If my mother told me to leave heaven, I would not remain (there) against my mother's will. I will not fight (her) now concerning this month's name; (but) I shall coax and almost play the part of a petitioner. I should prefer to maintain the justice of my case by pleading: and you, yourself, may perhaps favour my cause. My mother (i.e. Juno) has occupied the golden Capitol in her shared shrine, and holds the summit with Jupiter, as she should; but all my honour is concerned with the origin of the month. This honour, about which I am teased, is a unique (one). What harm (has been done), (O) Roman, if you have given the title of the month to Hercules' wife, and posterity (is) mindful (of it)? This land owes me something too, on account of my great husband: hither he drove the captured oxen (i.e. the cattle of Geryon, the killing of whom and the recapture of whose cattle was the object of the tenth of his Twelve Labours), (and) here Cacus, poorly protected by his father's gift of fire, stained the earth of the Aventine with his blood. I am called to more recent (events): Romulus arranged the people by age, and divided (them) into two groups: one is readier to give advice, and the other to fight; one age (group) urges war, and the other wages (it). So he decreed, and he distinguished the months by the same token: June is for young men (i.e. 'iuvenes'); (the month) which preceded (it is) for elders.
(So) he spoke; and in the heat of dispute they (i.e. Juno and Juventas) might have got into a quarrel and their family affection might have been concealed by their anger: (but) Concordia arrrived, the goddess and care of our peaceable leader (i.e. Tiberius rebuilt the Temple of Concordia in the Roman Forum and re-dedicated it in 10 A.D.), with her long hair entwined with Apollo's laurel (n.b. Apollo was the patron deity of Augustus). When she had told (them) of Tatius and brave Quirinus (i.e. Romulus), and (how) their two kingdoms and peoples had come together, and (how) sons-in-law and fathers-in-law (had been) accepted by a shared household-god, she says, "June gets its name from this union (i.e. 'iunctus')."
This issue should not be settled by my verdict. Depart from me (as) equals. Pergama (i.e. Troy) perished through the judge of beauty: two (goddesses) can harm more than one can assist.
June 1: Kalends: Nefastus (vv. 101-196).
(June 1st was sacred to Juno Moneta [Juno the Warner], the aspect of Juno who warns of impending disasters and harmful events. It was her sacred geese who warned the Romans of the impending attack by the Gauls in 390 B.C. This day was also sacred to Mars, and it was the anniversary of the dedication of the Temple of Mars near the Capena gate. June 1st was sacred to the Tempestates, Goddesses of weather and storms in particular. Finally, June 1st was sacred to Carna, Goddess of door hinges as well as bodily health. She had the power to ward off 'stirges' [vampires], from babies who were left in their cribs unattended. On this day prayers were offered to her for the health of the liver, heart, and other internal organs, and she received offerings of bean-meal and bacon fat, which were thought to promote bodily health and robustness.)
The first day (of the month) is granted to you, Carna. She is the goddess of the hinge: the story of how she has acquired the powers (she has been) given (is made) more obscure by time; but you will become clear (about it) from my verse. The ancient grove of Alernus lies near to the Tiber: now the priests still take sacrificial offerings there. A nymph was born there - the ancients called her Cranaë; she (was) often being sought by many lovers. She used to scour the fields and chase wild beasts with spears, and spread her knotty nets in the hollow valley; she had no quiver, yet they thought she was Phoebus' sister (i.e. Diana), nor would you, Phoebus, have been ashamed (of her). (If) some young man had spoken words of love to her, she would immediately reply in these tones: "This place has too much light, and with this light (it is a place) of shame: if you lead (me) into a darker cave, I'll follow." While he, credulously, went ahead, she stops when she reaches the bushes, and hides, and there was no way she could be found. (But) Janus had seen her, and, overcome by desire at the sight (of her), he used soft words to the hard(-hearted nymph). The nymph tells (him) that a more remote cave should be sought in accordance with custom, and she follows (him) as his companion, and (then) deserts her leader. (You) foolish (girl)! Janus can see what is happening behind his back: you achieve nothing, and he looks back at your hiding place. You gain nothing, you see, (just as) I said: for, as you are hiding beneath a rock, he seizes (you) in his arms, and, having had his way (with you), he says, "For lying with me, may the authority of the hinge be yours: have this (as) a reward for the loss of your virginity." So saying, he gave (her) a thorn, by which she could drive dreadful harm (away) from thresholds - it was white(-thorn).
There are some greedy birds, not (those) that cheated Phineus' throat of its food (i.e. Harpies), but they do derive their origin from them: they have huge heads, eyes that stand out, beaks fit for plunder, grey (steaks) in their feathers, (and) hooked claws; they fly at night and hunt children in need of wet-nurses, and they snatch their bodies from their cradles and defile (them).; they are said to tear at their milky flesh with their beaks, and they have throats (that are) full of the blood (they have) drunk. They have the name of screech-owls; but the reason for this name (is) because they are accustomed to shriek horribly at night. So, whether they are born birds, or they become birds through magical spells, and Marsian incantations transform old crones into birds, they (still) entered Proca's bed-chamber: Proca (i.e. the king of Alba Longa immediately before Romulus' grandfather Numitor) had been born in it five days (earlier), and they suck the infant's breast with their greedy tongues - fresh prey for the birds; and the poor boy screams and begs for help. The nurse rushes in, frightened by her foster-child's cry, and finds his cheeks (have been) slashed by hard claws. What should she do? The colour of his face was (like that) which is sometimes wont to belong to late leaves, which an early winter has damaged. She goes to Cranaë, and explains the situation. "Set aside your tears:" she said, "your ward will be safe." She approached the cradle; his mother and father wept: "Stop your tears," she says. "I, myself, will heal (him)." Straightway, she dabs the door-posts three times with arbutus leaves one after the other, (and) three times she marks the thresholds with arbutus leaves. (Then,) she sprinkles the entrances with water - and this water had a drug (in it) - and holds the raw entrails of a two-month old sow - , and so she says, "Birds of the night, spare the boy's innards: a tiny victim is offered for a tiny (child). Take a heart for a heart, I pray, take entrails for entrails: we give you this life in return for a better (one)." So, when she has made her offering, she places the severed (flesh) in the open air, and she forbids (all those) who are there to look at the sacrifice: and the sprig of white-thorn, (given to her) by Janus, is put (at the spot) where a tiny window sheds light into the bedroom. After that, they say that no birds violated the cradle, and the colour which he had before returned to the boy.
(But) why, you ask, is bacon fat consumed on the Kalends, and (why) are beans mixed with hot spelt? She (i.e. Carna) is an ancient goddess, and is nourished by food to which she was previously accustomed, and she is not seeking any feasts extravagantly acquired from alien sources. Fish still swam then without any harm from people, and oysters were safe in their shells; Latium was unaware of the bird which supplies rich Ionia (i.e. the attagen, a rich partridge) or (the one) which rejoices in Pygmy blood (i.e. the crane), and nothing in the peacock was pleasing except its feathers, and the (peoples of the) earth sent (us) no beasts captured by their skill. The earth supplied only beans and hard spelt. Whoever should eat these two mixed together, they say that his bowels can come to no harm.
They also say that the temple of Juno Moneta (i.e. who warns) (was) built high on the citadel in accordance with your vow, Camillus (i.e. it was vowed by Lucius Furius Camillus in 345 B.C. during a battle with the Aurunci). Before (that), it had been the (site of the) house of Manlius (i.e. Marcus Manlius Capitolinus), who once repelled Gallic arms from Jupiter's (temple) on the Capitoline Hill (i.e. in 390 B.C.). Great gods, how much better (it would have been if) he had died in that great fight in defence of your throne, high Jupiter! He lived to die, condemned on a charge of (seeking) the kingship (i.e. executed on a charge of treason in 386 B.C.): that was the fame his longevity granted him.
The same day is the festival of Mars, of whose (temple), placed outside the Covered Way, the Capene Gate commands a view (i.e. the temple of Mars, was located on the Appian Way, two miles from the City, having been vowed by the Duumvir Titus Quinctius early in the Fourth Century at the time of the Gallic invasion). We acknowledge that you, too, Tempestas, earned a shrine, when our fleet was almost sunk in Corsican waters (i.e. the temple of the Tempests was built in 258 B.C. by Lucius Cornelius Scipio, the conqueror of Corsica, in thanksgiving for the delivery of his fleet from a storm). These human monuments are obvious: if you look for stars, great Jupiter's clawed bird (i.e. the constellation Aquila) now rises.
June 2: Fastus (vv. 197-198).
The next day summons the Hyades, the horns on the brow of Taurus (i.e. this means the morning rising of the star-group Hyades on the face of the constellation Taurus), and the earth is drenched with heavy rain.
June 3: Comitialis (vv. 199-208).
(This day is sacred to Bellona, Goddess of war.)
When two mornings have passed and Phoebus (i.e. the sun) has arisen twice, and the corn has been twice made damp by the falling dew, on this day it is said that (the temple of) Bellona (was) consecrated during the Etruscan war (i.e. it had been vowed by Claudius Caecus during the battle of Sentinum in 295 B.C, when the Romans defeated a combined force of Gauls, Etruscans and Samnites), and she always brought Latium success. Appius (i.e. Appius Claudius Caecus, 'the Blind') was the founder, (he) who, when he denied Pyrrhus a peace (treaty) saw much with his mind, (though he had been) deprived of his sight (i.e. in 280 B.C. after the Romans had been defeated at the battle of Heraclea, Claudius Caecus persuaded the senate not to agree to make peace with Pyrrhus). From this temple (i.e. the temple of Bellona was situated on the Campus Martius near the Circus Flaminius, a race track built by Gaius Flaminius in 220 B.C.), a small space commands a view of the upper part of the Circus: there there is a small pillar of no small significance; from there it is customary for a spear to be hurled by hand as a declaration of war, when it is decided that arms should be taken up against a king and his nation.
June 4: Comitialis (vv. 209-212).
(This day is sacred to Hercules Magno Custodi, Hercules the Great Custodian.)
The other side of the Circus (i.e. the western side) is protected by Hercules the Custodian, because the god holds this office due to the Euboean song (i.e. the oracle of the Sibylline Books); the date which belongs to this office is the day before the Nones; if you ask about the plaque, Sulla approved the work.
June 5: Nones: Nefastus (vv. 213-218).
(June 5th is sacred to Dius Fidius, "Divine Faith", associated with Semo Sancus. He is associated with the taking of oaths and the making of treaties, and a common oath formula is "medius fidius" or "me dius fidius". Such oaths had to be made outdoors, in the view of the sky.)
I asked (if) I should assign the Nones to Sancus, or to Fidius, or to you, father Semo; then Sancus says to me: "To whichever of them you assign (it), I shall have the honour: I bear (all) three names: so Cures (i.e. the Sabine capital and the home of Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome) willed (it)." So the ancient Sabines granted him a shrine, and built it on the Quirinal Hill.
June 6: Nefastus (vv. 219-234).
I have a daughter, and may she, I pray, be of a longer duration than me, (and) I shall always be happy while she (is) safe. When I wished to offer her to a son-in-law, I sought times (that were) suitable for weddings and (times) which should be avoided. Then it was pointed out to me that June after the sacred Ides is beneficial both to brides and to husbands; but the first part of this (month) has been found (to be) unsuitable for marriage. For so the sacred wife of Jupiter's priest (i.e. the Flaminica Dialis) informs me: "Till the peaceful Tiber carries the sweepings from the temple of Ilian Vesta (i.e. she is called 'Ilian' because her temple contained the Penates and the sacred flame which Aeneas had brought from Troy) down to the sea, I am not permitted to comb my hair with sheared boxwood nor to cut my nails with metal, nor to touch my husband, although he is Jupiter's priest and has been given to me by law for life (i.e. it was unlawful for the Flamen Dialis to divorce his wife). You too, don't be in a rush: your daughter will be better wed when fiery Vesta's floor has been cleansed (i.e. Vesta is called 'fiery' because her temple contained Troy's sacred flame)."
June 7: Ludi Piscatorii: Nefastus (vv. 235-240).
(June 7th-15th: these days were connected to the preparations for the Vestalia. On the 7th, the inner sanctum, known as the 'penus', of the temple of Vesta was opened up; it was closed again on the 15th. On the 15th, the dirt was swept from her temple and taken to the Tiber. June 7th was also sacred to Tiberinus, God of the river Tiber [often called Father Tiber]. On this day fishermen celebrated games, officiated by the Praetor Urbanus.)
The third Phoebe (i.e. moon) after the Nones removes Lycaon's grandson (i.e. Arcas, in reference to the morning setting of the constellation Arctophylax, the Bear-Keeper, sometimes called Bootes, the Ox-Herder), it is said, and behind (him) Ursa (i.e. the constellation Ursa Major, the Great Bear) has no fear. Then I remember that I viewed the games on the turf of the Campus (Martius) and that they were named (as) yours, (O) smooth-flowing Tiber. (It is) the feast-day of those who handle dripping lines, and who cover their bronze hooks with morsels of food.
June 8: Nefastus (vv. 241-248).
(This day is sacred to Mens, Goddess of right thinking and the mind. She is sometimes known as Mens Bona.)
Mind has a divine power too: we see Mind's sanctuary vowed during the panic caused by your war, O perfidious Phoenician (i.e. Hannibal). You had renewed the war, Phoenician, and all were shocked by the consul's death (i.e. that of Gaius Flaminius at the battle of Lake Trasimene in 217 B.C.), and were in fear of the Moorish bands. Fear had banished hope, when the senate delivers its vows to Mind, and at once she responds more favourably. The day, on which these vows were made to the goddess, sees the approaching Ides six day away (i.e. after the disaster at Lake Trasimene the senate consulted the Sibylline Books, and as a result temples to both Mind and Venus Erycina were dedicated on the Capitoline Hill in 215 B.C.).
June 9: Vestalia: Nefastus (vv. 249-468).
June 8: Nefastus (vv. 241-248).
(This day is sacred to Mens, Goddess of right thinking and the mind. She is sometimes known as Mens Bona.)
Mind has a divine power too: we see Mind's sanctuary vowed during the panic caused by your war, O perfidious Phoenician (i.e. Hannibal). You had renewed the war, Phoenician, and all were shocked by the consul's death (i.e. that of Gaius Flaminius at the battle of Lake Trasimene in 217 B.C.), and were in fear of the Moorish bands. Fear had banished hope, when the senate delivers its vows to Mind, and at once she responds more favourably. The day, on which these vows were made to the goddess, sees the approaching Ides six day away (i.e. after the disaster at Lake Trasimene the senate consulted the Sibylline Books, and as a result temples to both Mind and Venus Erycina were dedicated on the Capitoline Hill in 215 B.C.).
June 9: Vestalia: Nefastus (vv. 249-468).
(June 9th was the holiday of Vesta, Goddess of the hearth. The Vestal Virgins employed the 'mola salsa', the holy cake, in the celebrations of the day. First, water was drawn by the Virgins from a sacred spring by the Porta Capena; the water could not be set down on the ground, since contact with the earth would have destroyed its sacred nature, and was carried in narrow-bottomed vessels to prevent this. The salt used in the cakes was specially made from brine brought in a salt pan and then ground in a mortar and baked in a jar. The salt thus produced was cut with an iron saw. This salt was used on the grain or flour, using the ears of grain gathered on the 7th, 9th, and 11th of May, and then turned into flour. Women who wished to make offerings to Vesta in her temple during the Vestalia usually offered sacrifices of simple food, borne on a platter. When doing so, women went barefoot. Only women, and the Pontifex Maximus, were allowed in the temple of Vesta. Bakers and millers also honored this day, and the various tools of their trade - millstones and the beasts of burden used to turn them - were garlanded with violets and small loaves.)
Favour (me), Vesta! I open my lips now in your service, if I am permitted to attend your scared rites. I was totally (absorbed) in prayer: I felt a heavenly presence, and the joyful earth glowed with a radiant light. I, indeed, did not see you, goddess - away with the fictions of poets! - , nor could you be gazed upon by any man (i.e. Vesta, being the principle of fire, has no visible anthropomorphic form like the other deities); but what I had been unaware of and I had acquired in error, became known to me without instruction. They say that Rome had held the Parilia forty times, when the flame's guardian goddess (i.e. Vesta) was received in her shrine (i.e. since the Parilia of 21st April was identified as the date of Romulus' foundation of Rome in 753 B.C., this must therefore have occurred in 713 B.C.). (This was) the work of that peace-loving king (i.e. Numa Pompilius, Romulus' successor) - the Sabine land has never brought forth any more god-fearing character then him. The roofs of bronze, which you now see, you would then have seen made of straw, and the walls were woven from pliant wicker. This meagre place, which contains the hall of Vesta, was then the mighty palace of the bearded Numa; but the shape of the temple which now remains is said to be as it was before (i.e. it was round), and a sound reason underlies its shape. Vesta and the earth are the same: a sleepless fire underlies (them) both: the earth and the hearth symbolise their own abode. The earth (is) like a ball, resting on no support, so great a weight hangs in the air around (it): its very rotation keeps the globe balanced, and any angle which might press on any of the parts (external to it) (i.e. the air) is absent; and, since it has been placed in the central region of the heavens, so that it more or less touches no side (of anything), if it were not convex, it would be nearer somewhere, and the universe would not have the earth's weight (at) its centre. Through Syracusan art, a globe stands suspended in the enclosed air, a tiny replica of the vast heavens, and the earth is as far distant from the top as (it is) from the bottom; its round shape causes it (to be) as it is. The appearance of the temple (is) similar; no angle projects from it, (and) its dome protects (it) from rain showers.
You ask why the goddess (i.e. Vesta) is served by virgin attendants? I shall find her reasons for this situation too. They say that Juno and Ceres were born from Ops (i.e. the goddess of plenty) by Saturn's seed; the third was Vesta. The (first) two were married, (and) they both bore children, it is said; one of the three remained unable to endure men (i.e. unmarried). What a surprise (is it), if a virgin likes virgin attendants, and admits (only) chaste hands at her rites? You must understand that Vesta (is) nothing other than a living flame; and you see that no bodies (are) born from flame. So she is rightly a virgin, who neither produces nor takes any seed, and she loves companions of her virginity.
For a long time, I foolishly thought that Vesta had statues; (but) I soon learned that there were none beneath her curved rotunda. An unextinguishable fire is concealed within her shrine: neither Vesta nor fire has any image. Earth stands by it own force: Vesta is called from 'vi stando' (i.e. 'depending on force'); and the reason for her Greek name (i.e. Hestia) could be a similar (one). The hearth (i.e. 'focus') is named from flames, and because it heartens (i.e. 'fovet') everything; but it was formerly at the front of the house. From this too I think our 'vestibule' is named; then we preface our prayers with (the name of) Vesta, who holds the first place.
It was once the custom to sit on long benches before the hearth, and to think that the gods were present at your table; Even now, when they are making sacrifices to ancient Vacuna (i.e. the Sabine goddess of victory), (men) stand and sit in front of Vacuna's hearths. Something of an ancient custom has come down to our time: a clean dish bears food offered to Vesta. Look, loaves of bread hang from garlanded asses, and wreaths of flowers veil rough millstones. Farmers formerly roasted only spelt in ovens (i.e. in Rome at the beginning of the second century B.C., ovens were only used to bake bread), - and the Oven goddess (i.e. Fornax) has her own rites. The hearth, itself, baked the bread, placed beneath the ashes: a broken tile had been laid on the warm floor. So the baker honours the hearth and the mistress of hearths (i.e. Vesta), and (so does) the ass which turns the pumice millstones.
Shall I pass by or recount your shame, (O) red-faced Priapus? It is a brief tale, involving much mirth. Coroneted Cybele, with a turreted crown on her head, calls the eternal gods to her feast; she invites the satyrs too, and those rural spirits, the nymphs; Silenus is present, although no one had asked (him). It is not permitted, and it would take (too) long, to tell of the gods' banquet: they keep awake (all) night amid much wine. Some wander casually among the dells of shadowy Ida, some lie down, and stretch their limbs on the soft grass; some play, sleep takes hold of others; some link arms (in the dance) and beat the green earth in a triple quick step. Vesta lies untroubled, and takes a peaceful nap, just as she was, with her head propped up in its place on the turf. But the red-faced custodian of the garden (i.e. Priapus) chases the nymphs and the goddesses, and goes backwards and forwards as he wanders; he catches sight of Vesta too: (it is) uncertain if he thought (she was) a nymph, or knew (she was) Vesta, but he himself denies that he knew. He has indecent hopes, and tries to approach (her) by stealth, and walks on tiptoe with his heart pounding. By chance, old Silenus had left the ass, on which he had been carried, by the banks of a gently bubbling stream; the god of the lengthy Hellespont (i.e. Priapus) was going to make a start, when it brays with an untimely sound. Scared by its raucous voice, the goddess jumps up; the whole group flocks together, but he flees through their hostile hands. Lampsacus (i.e. the port city on the Asian side of the Hellespont that was the centre of the worship of Priapus) is accustomed to sacrifice this animal to Priapus, chanting, "We rightly give the informer's guts to the flames." Goddess (i.e. Vesta), in remembrance you adorn this (creature) with necklaces of bread; the work stops, and the empty mills have fallen silent.
I shall explain what the altar of Jupiter the Baker on the Thunderer's citadel means, (as it is) more renowned for its name than its cost. The Capitol was surrounded and hard pressed by the fierce Gauls (i.e. in 390 B.C., after the battle of the Allia): the long siege had already cause a famine. Having summoned the gods to his royal throne, Jupiter says to Mars, "Begin." At once, he replies: "Surely what my people's misfortune should be is unknown, and that heart-ache of mine needs a voice of complaint. But, if you require that I should briefly tell a tale of sadness linked to shame, Rome lies beneath (the feet of) its Alpine foe. Jupiter, is this (the city) to whom world dominion had been promised? Were you (really) about to impose this (city) on the earth? And she had already battered her neighbours and Etruscan arms: hope was in the ascendant: (but) now she is driven from her home. We have seen our triumphant elders, decked in embroidered robes, slain in their bronze-clad halls; we have seen the tokens of Ilian Vesta removed from their setting: they surely think some gods exist. But, if they should look back at the hill which you inhabit (i.e. the Capitol, home of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva) and so many of your homes hard-pressed by the siege, they will know that no help will come from paying attention to the gods, and that the incense given by an anxious hand should be set aside. Yet, if only there was an open field of battle; let them take up arms, and, if they do not gain the upper hand, let them tumble. Now, in need of food and fearing a coward's death, (they are) shut on their hill and hard pressed by a barbarous mob. Then, Venus, and fair Quirinus with his crook (i.e. the curved staff of an augur) and his purple robe, and Vesta, pleaded on behalf of their Latium. Jupiter replied: "There is a universal concern for those walls, and Gaul (will be) defeated and receive its punishment. Now you, Vesta, make the corn, which is lacking, appear plentiful, and do not desert your abode. Let the hollow mill grind whatever uncrushed grain is (left), and, (after it has been) kneaded by hand, let the hearth bake (it) in the fire." (So) he commanded, and the Saturnian virgin (i.e. Vesta) nodded at her brother's orders, and it was the midnight hour. Now toil had given sleep to their leaders. Jupiter scolds them and tells (them) what he wants through his sacred lips: "Arise, and from the heights of the citadel hurl into the midst of the foe the resource which you least wish to throw." Sleep leaves (them); and, provoked by this strange riddle, they ask what resource would they not wish to deliver, and (yet) they were now being asked (to do so). It seemed to be bread; they throw down the gifts of Ceres: having been thrown, they clatter on their helmets and long shields. The hope that they could be defeated by famine dies: the foe having been repelled, a white altar is erected to Jupiter the Baker.
I happened to be returning from the festival of Vesta along (the path) where New Street is now joined to the Roman Forum: there I saw a lady coming down barefooted; I was silently astonished and checked my step. And old woman from the neighbourhood saw (me) and told me to sit down, and, shaking her head, she says in a trembling voice: "Soaking swamps occupied this (ground) where the Forum now is; this ditch was drenched by the stream with its overflowing waters. Lake Curtius over there (i.e. an area of the Forum), which supports dry altars, is now solid ground, but was once a lake; (the place) where the Velabrum (i.e. an area between the Capitoline and Palatine Hills) usually ushers processions into the Circus, was (then) nothing but willows and hollow reeds: often a guest returning across suburban waters would sing and chuck drunken words at the boatmen. That god who fits different forms (i.e. Vertumnus) had not yet taken his name from diverting the river (i.e. 'averso amne'). Here too, there was a (sacred) grove, thick with rushes and reeds, and a marsh not to be entered with a shod foot. The pools have receded, and the banks confine their waters, and the ground is now dry: but the custom (i.e. of removing one's shoes) remains. She had explained the reason. "Farewell, (you) dear old lady!" I said. "May all that remains of your life be easy."
I learned everything else (about Vesta) in my childhood years, but I should not pass over (it) on that account. Ilus, the descendant of Dardanus, had just built a new city (i.e. Ilium or Troy) - still rich, Ilus possessed the wealth of Asia; it is thought that a heavenly statue of armed Minerva (i.e. the Palladium) had fallen on the hills of the city of Ilium. (I was anxious to see (it): I saw the temple and the site; that is all that is left there: Rome has Pallas (i.e. the Palladium).) Smintheus (i.e. Apollo 'the Mouse'; in his oracular capacity he had a temple at Chryse in the Troad) is consulted, and in the darkness of his shady grove he uttered these words from his truthful lips: "Keep the heavenly goddess (i.e. the Palladium) safe, and you will keep the city safe: she will take with her the power of the place." Ilus preserves (her) and keeps (her) locked up on the heights of the citadel, and her care reverts to his heir Laomedon; under Priam (she was) not safe enough: she, herself, had wished (it) so, after that judgment, in which her beauty was rejected (i.e. the Judgment of Paris). Either the grandson of Adrastus (i.e. Diomedes, whose mother Deipyle was the daughter of Adrastus, king of Argos), or Ulysses, suited to robbery, has taken (her), they say, or it was Aeneas; the agent (is) uncertain, (but) the thing is now Roman: Vesta guards (her), because she sees everything in her unfailing light. Oh, how terrified was the senate, when Vesta's (temple) caught fire (i.e. this conflagration took place in 241 B.C.) and she was almost buried by her own roof! The holy fires were blazing with the fires of sin; profane flame was mingled with pious flame. Her stunned attendants (i.e. the Vestal Virgins) wept, with their hair let down: fear, itself, had robbed (them) of their bodily strength. Metellus (i.e. Lucius Caecilius Metellus, consul in 251 and 247 B.C., and Pontifex Maximus) rushes into their midst, and cries in a loud voice, "Come to the rescue; tears are no help. Take the tokens of fate (i.e. Vesta's sacred flame and the Palladium) in your virginal hands: they need to be rescued not by prayer, but by hand. (Ah,) woe (is) me! Do you hesitate?" he says. He saw (them) hesitating, and they sank down on bended knee in their panic. He draws water, and, lifting up his hands, he said, "Forgive (me), holy (one): (as) a man, I shall enter where no man should go. If this is a crime, let the punishment for the act fall on me: let Rome be saved by the loss of my life." He spoke, and in he burst: the goddess he carried off approved his deed, and was saved by the devotion of her priest. Now, sacred flames, you shine brightly under Caesar's (rule): now there is, and there will (continue) to be fire on Ilian hearths (i.e. the sacred fire in the temple of Vesta); no priestess will be said to have profaned her headbands (i.e. to have disgraced her office by unchaste acts), while he is leader, and none will be buried alive in the earth: so the unchaste perish, because she is buried in the (ground) that she has defiled: the Earth and Vesta are the same deity.
On this day, Brutus won his surname from his Callaecian foes and dyed the soil of Hispania with their blood (i.e. Decimus Junius Brutus, consul in 138 B.C. won the surname Callaecus after defeating the people of what is now Galicia in Portugal in 138-137). Of course, sadness is sometimes mixed with joy, lest the people's heart should delight in festivals completely. (On this day too), Crassus lost his eagles, his son and his (men) at the Euphrates, and he gave himself to death as its final (prize) (i.e. at the battle of Carrhae in 53 B.C.). "Parthian, why do you gloat?" said the goddess (i.e. Vesta). "You will return the standards, and there will be an avenger who will deliver punishment for the death of Crassus."
June 10: Nefastus (vv. 469-472).
But once the garlands of flowers are stripped from the long-eared asses, and the rough stones grind the fruit of Ceres (i.e. grain), the sailor sitting on the poop-deck says, "We'll see the Dolphin (i.e. the constellation), when the day is expelled and the damp night comes on."
June 11: Matralia: Nefastus (Publicus) (vv. 473-648).
(June 11th was the date of the festival of Mater Matuta, Goddess of growth, childbirth, motherhood, and the raising of children. On that day mothers were honored by their children and husbands, and mothers prayed for their children and the children of their siblings. The statue of Mater Matuta could only be decorated on this day by a 'univira' [the wife of a first marriage]. Female slaves were excluded from the temple, with the exception of one who was ritually beaten, either as a warning to others not to cuckold free-born husbands, or as a fertility rite in and of itself. Testuacia [sacred cakes] were offered to the Goddess, cooked in a 'testu' [an old-fashioned earthenware pot]. June 11th was also sacred to Fortuna, Goddess of fate, chance, luck, and fortune.)
Now, Phrygian Tithonus (i.e. brother of Priam and husband of Aurora, the Dawn), you complain that you have been abandoned by your bride (i.e. she leaves him each morning), and the watchman Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) leaves the eastern waters: go, good mothers - the Matralia (i.e. the festival of Motherhood) (is) your festival - and offer the Theban goddess (i.e. Ino, the daughter of Cadmus, king of Thebes, whom the Romans associated with Matuta) your yellow cakes. By the bridges (i.e. the Pons Sulpicius and the Pons Aemilius) and the great Circus is a busy square that takes its name from the (statue of) an ox (that is) placed (there) (i.e. the Forum Boarium). There, on this day, they say that Servius' sceptre-bearing hands (i.e. those of Servius Tullius, Rome's sixth king 575-535 B.C.) gave Mother Matuta a holy temple. Who is this goddess, (and) why does she bar female slaves from the threshold of her temple - for bar (them) she does - and ask for toasted cakes? Bacchus, (you) whose hair is ornamented with clusters of ivy, if this is your house, direct the poet's work!
Semele (i.e. daughter of Cadmus and sister of Ino) had been incinerated with the compliance of Jupiter (i.e. at the instigation of Juno); Ino takes you, child (i.e. Bacchus, Semele's son by Jupiter) and diligently suckles (you) with the utmost care. Juno swelled (with wrath) that she should raise the son of a concubine: but he was (of) the blood of her sister. So Athamas (i.e. Ino' s husband, driven mad by Juno) is haunted by the furies and false visions, and you, little Learchus, fall by your father's hand: the grief-stricken mother buried Learchus' shade, and performed the rites due to the piteous pyre. When she has torn her hair in sorrow, she too runs amok and seizes you, Melicertes, from your cradle. A single (piece of) land (i.e. the Isthmus of Corinth), confined in a small space, separates two straits, and is pounded by two (stretches of) water: to this place she (i.e. Ino) comes in a state of frenzy, clutching her son in her arms, and she hurls (him) together with herself into the deep from a lofty crag. Panope and her hundred sisters (i.e. the sea-nymphs, the daughters of Nereus) receive (them) unharmed, and bear (them) in a gentle course through their realm. (She has) not yet (become) Leucothea, nor (has) the boy yet (become) Palaemon, (but) they reach the mouth of the Tiber, thick with whirlpools. There was a grove; (it is) uncertain (whether) it is called Semele's or Stimula's; they say the Ausonian Maenads (i.e. the Bacchantes, the female devotees of Bacchus) lived (there): Ino asks them what their race was. She hears they are Arcadians, and that Evander holds the sceptre in this place; disguising her divinity, the daughter of Saturn (i.e. Juno) insidiously incites the Latin Bacchantes into (speaking) deceitful words: "O (you who are) too good-natured, O (you) who lack a full mind, this stranger does not come to our band (as) a friend. She operates by deceit, and intends to learn our sacred rites. (But) she has a child, on whom it is possible to wreak punishment." Well, scarcely had she finished (speaking), (when) the Thyiads (i.e. Bacchantes), with their hair streaming down their necks, fill the breezes with their howling, and they lay their hands on the boy (i.e. Melicertes) and fight to tear (him) away. She (i.e. Ino) invokes the gods, of whom she is still unaware: "Gods and men of this place, give help to a wretched mother." Her cry hit the nearby rocks of the Aventine. The Oetean (hero) (i.e. Hercules, the epithet, here used proleptically, coming from Mount Oeta in Thessaly, where Hercules' pyre was located) had driven his cattle to the riverbank: on Hercules' arrival, (the women) who were just preparing to use force, turned their cowardly backs in feminine flight. "What are you doing here, Bacchus' maternal aunt?" he says. "Or (does) the goddess (i.e. Juno) (that harasses) me, harass you too?" She tells (him) some (of her story), but the presence of her son prevents (her from telling) the rest (of it), and she is ashamed that, through her fury, she fell into sin. Rumour, rapid as it is, flies on beating wings, and your name, Ino, is frequently on (men's) lips. You are said to have entered the faithful household of Carmentis (i.e. the prophetic mother of Evander) (as) a guest, and to have set aside your long refusal to eat. The Tegean (i.e. Arcadian) priestess (i.e. Carmentis) is said to have hurried into offering cakes with her own hands, (which she) baked on a hasty hearth. Now cakes delight her too at the festival of the Matralia. Rustic endeavour was more pleasing to her than skill. "Now," she (i.e. Ino) says, "O prophetess, reveal my future fate, as far as it's allowed: add this, I beg (you) to my welcome." There is a short delay, (then) the prophetess assumes heavenly powers, and her whole breast becomes full with (the presence of) her god. All at once, you would scarcely know her, so much holier and so much taller was she than (she had been) a moment before. "I'll sing joyful (things): rejoice, Ino, now that you have done away with your toils," she said, "and always show favour to this people. You will be a sea-goddess: the sea too will have your son. Take other names in your waters. You will be called Leucothea (i.e. White Goddess) by the Greeks, Matuta by us; your son will have complete authority in the harbours. We will call (him) Portunus, his own tongue (will know him as) Palaemon. Go, and may both of you, I pray, be friendly to our countries." She (i.e. Ino) nodded, and her word was promised; they set aside their toils (and) changed their names; he is a god and she a goddess.
Do you ask why she forbids female attendants access? She hates (them), and I shall sing of the source of that hatred, if she lets (me). One of your maid servants (i.e. Antiphera), daughter of Cadmus (i.e. Ino), often used to enjoy your husband's embraces. Wicked Athamas made love to her in secret; from her he learned that parched seeds were given (by you) to the farmers (i.e. to cause a famine): it's true that you yourself deny that you have done (so), but rumour confirms (it). This is why a slave girl's service is hateful to you. However, no dutiful mother should pray to her on behalf of her child: she herself seemed to have been a not very fortunate parent. You will (do) better (to) entrust her with someone else's child: she was of more use to Bacchus than to her own (children).
They say that she asked you, Rutilius (i.e. Publius Rutilius Lupus, consul in 90 B.C. fell in battle against the Marsians during the Social War), "Where are you rushing to? On my day, you (as) consul will fall at the hands of our Marsian foe." The outcome agreed with my words, and the river Tolenus (i.e. the present day Turano) flowed purple, as its waters (were) mixed with his blood. The next year came: on the same (day) that Pallantis (i.e. the dawn) rose, the slain Didius (i.e. Titus Didius, consul in 98 B.C. as a 'novus homo', and killed in battle against the Marsians in 89 B.C. according to Ovid) doubled the enemy's strength. The same day (i.e. the same day as the festival of Matuta) is yours, Fortuna (i.e. the goddess of fate or chance), and the founder (i.e. Servius Tullius) and the site (of your temple [i.e. the Forum Boarium] are the same); but who is that lurking under those piled togas? It is Servius, for that is agreed: but the cause of his hiding is disputed, and I too have a doubt in my mind. When the goddess (i.e. Fortuna) shyly confesses her secret love, and is ashamed that, (as) a celestial (being) she has lain with a man - for she burned (with passion), having been seized with desire for the king (i.e. Servius Tullius), and she was not blind in relation to this man alone - she used to enter his house at night through a small window, from which the gate of the Fenestella gets its name. Now she feels shame and hides his beloved features under a cloth, and the king's face is covered by many a toga. Or is it more true that after Tullius' funeral the people had become bewildered by the death of their gentle leader: nor was there any end (to it); (and) their grief grew at (the sight of) his statue, until they covered him under a heap of togas?
I must sing at greater length about a third cause (i.e. for the statue being covered); however, we shall keep our horses on a tight rein. Tullia (i.e. Servius' daughter), her marriage having been secured as the reward of crime (i.e. both she and her husband had murdered their former spouses), kept goading her husband (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus) with these words: "What is the use of (us) being equally matched, you by my sister's murder and I by your brother's, if a virtuous life seems good (to us). Both my husband and your wife ought to have lived, if we were not about to venture any greater deed. I offer both my father's life and throne (as) a dowry. If you are a man, go (and) claim the riches of the dowry of which I speak. Crime (is) an attribute of royalty: kill your father-in-law, seize his kingdom, and stain our hands in my father's blood." Incited by such (words), the private (citizen) occupies the high throne; in their astonishment, the people rush to arms: then (comes) blood and slaughter, and infirm old age is conquered: Superbus, the son-in-law, seizes and takes possession of his father-in-law's sceptre. Beneath the Esquiline, where his palace was, he himself falls, butchered, on the hard ground, gushing with blood. His daughter rode, high and haughty, in her carriage through the middle of the streets in order to enter her father's house. When her driver saw the body, he halted with tears streaming (down his face); she reproves him in the following terms: "Go on, will you, or you can expect to pay the bitter price of piety!" Drive your reluctant wheels, I am telling (you), over his face." (There is) definite evidence of this deed: Evil Street (is) named after her, and this business is marked by eternal infamy.
Yet (even) after this, she (still) dared to visit the temple (which was) her father's monument: (what) I say (is) strange indeed, but yet it occurred. There was a statue (there) which represented Tullius seated on a throne; it is said that it placed a hand over its eyes, and a voice was heard: "Conceal my countenance, lest it should see the unspeakable face of my daughter." It is covered by a robe (that is) supplied; Fortuna forbids that is should be removed, and thus she herself spoke from her temple: "The day on which Servius is first revealed, after his face has been uncovered, that will be the first (day on which) modesty is set aside." Refrain, ladies, from touching the forbidden robes - it is enough to utter your prayer in a solemn voice - and let the head (of one) who was the seventh king in our city (n.b. Servius Tullius is usually considered to be Rome's sixth king, but Ovid has included Titus Tatius, Romulus' Sabine co-regent, in the count) always be covered by a Roman garment. This temple was burned down (i.e. both the temple of Fortuna and that of Mater Matuta in the Forum Boarium were consumed by fire in 213 B.C. and their rebuilding started in the following year): but that fire spared the statue; Mulciber (i.e. Vulcan; the epithet 'Mulciber', meaning 'Melter', refers to Vulcan in his capacity as a blacksmith) himself brought help to his son. For Vulcan was Tullius' father, and the outstandingly beautiful Ocresia of Corniculum (was) his mother. Tanaquil (i.e. the prophetic wife of Lucius Tarquinius Priscus, Rome's fifth king, and the mistress of Ocresia) ordered her, when she was performing the sacred rites with her in accordance with custom to pour wine on to the hearth (that was being) embellished: there among the ashes there was, or there seemed (to be), the shape of a man's sexual organ, but (it is) more (than likely that that was what) it was. The slave (girl) (i.e. Ocresia) sat on the hearth (as she had been) ordered: Servius is conceived by her, (but) he has the seed of a divine family. His father (i.e. Vulcan) gave the sign (of paternity) at the moment when he touched his head with tremulous fire, and a crown of flames glowed on his hair.
Livia endows you, too, Concordia with a magnificent shrine, which she herself dedicated to her dear husband (i.e. Livia dedicated the Porticus Liviae to Augustus in 7 B.C. but the altar to Concordia within it was probably dedicated at a later date). Learn (this), (you) age to come: (the site) where Livia's Colonnade now stands was once occupied by a massive house (i.e. the house of Publius Vedius Pollio, a rich freedman, on the Esquiline, left by him to Augustus in his will in 15 B.C.); that one house was the work of a city, and many towns occupy a smaller space than it occupied within its walls. It was levelled to the ground, not through any charge of kingship, but because it seemed to be harmful due to its extravagance. (As) its heir, Caesar readily bore the demolition of so great a mass of buildings, and the destruction of so much of his wealth: so is criticism delivered, and so are examples set, when a judge does himself what he advises others (to do).
June 13: Ides: The lesser Quinquatrus: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 649-710).
(June 13th-15th: also known as the "lesser Quinquatria" - the Greater Quinquatria being held on 19-23rd March. It was a festival of the 'tibicines' [flute-players who played at religious occasions to drown out any ill-omened noises]. For three days they wandered the city in masks and festive clothing, making music and livening up everyday business. The festival was also sacred to Minerva, who was the patron Goddess of the 'tibicines'. In ancient times they would have met at Her temple and then gone to the temple of Jupiter for a feast.)
On the next day (i.e. June 12th) there is no feature which you can speak about; on the Ides a temple was dedicated to Jupiter the Unconquered. And now I am obliged to tell of the lesser Quinquatrus (i.e. the greater Quinquatria occurred on the 19th-23rd March). Now, be present O yellow(-haired) Minerva as I begin (my task). Why does a wandering flautist walk all through the City? What is the meaning of his mask and his long robe?" Thus I (asked). (And) thus Tritonia (i.e. Minerva), laying down her spear, replied - if only I could recount the goddess's (exact) words! - : "In the days of your ancient forebears, great use was (made) of flautists, and they were always (held) in great honour: the flute was played in shrines and at the games, and the flute was played at tearful funerals; the work was sweetened by its rewards. Then a time followed which suddenly shattered the practice of this graceful art. Add (to this) that an aedile had instructed that that the performers who went in a funeral procession should be (restricted) to only ten (i.e. this is referring to Appius Claudius Caecus, who was censor in 312 B.C. This requirement was almost certainly enacted in the Twelve Tables of 451-450 B.C, but Appius probably enforced it more strictly, and he also forbade flautists from eating within the Temple of Jupiter.) In exile they exchange their city and withdraw to Tibur (i.e. this happened in 311 B.C.): at one time (going) to Tiber meant exile. The hollow flute is missed on the stage (and) it is missed at the altars; no dirge accompanies the final bier. There was a certain freedman, worthy of a rank as great as you like, but who had been freed at Tibur a long time ago. He prepares his own feast at his country(-house), and invites the tuneful throng (i.e. the guild of flautists): they arrive at the festive banquet. It was night, and their vision and their minds were awash with strong wine, when a messenger arrives with a concocted story, and spoke thus: "Why are you (so) slow to break up the party? For look, the instigator of your manumission is coming." Without delay, the guests stir their limbs, (although they are) tottering from the strong wine; and they slip and slide on their uncertain feet. But the master cries, "Away with you!" and he lifts up the dawdlers on to a cart; on the cart a wickerwork frame was constructed. The hour, and the motion, and the wine brought on sleep, and the drunken crowd think they are returning to Tibur. But they had already entered the city of Rome by the Esquiline, and at dawn the cart was (standing) in the middle of the Forum. In order that he could deceive the senate as to their rank and number, Plautius (i.e. Gaius Plautius Venox, censor in 312 B.C. together with Appius Claudius) tells (them) that their faces should be covered by masks; and he adds others to (them), and, so that he might swell the group of flautists, he tells (them) to wear long gowns. Thus, they could effectively veil the returning men, so they should not be censured for their coming back contrary to his colleague's edicts. The plan succeeded, and they were allowed to employ strange dress on the Ides, and to sing playful words to old tunes.
When she had instructed me, I said, "It (still) remains for me to learn why this day should be called Quinquatrus." "March," she says, "celebrates my festival of that name," and that guild is also one of my creations. I first enabled the long flute to produce notes. The sound was pleasing: (but) when my face was reflected in the clear waters, I saw that my virginal cheeks were (all) puffed up. 'This art is not important to me; away with you, my flute!' I said: the bank receives my cast-off on its turf. A satyr (i.e. Marsyas) finds it, and at first he marvels (at it) and does not understand its use, but he learns that blowing into (it) produces sound; and now he works (it) with his fingers, and now he gives (it) breaths, and already he was boastful of his skill among the nymphs: he also challenges Phoebus. Overcome by Phoebus, he is hanged; his flayed limbs are separated from their skin. Yet, I am the inventor and author of this (type of) song : this is why that art observes my feast day."
June 15: Fastus (vv. 711-714).
The third night will come, when you will see Dodonid Thyone (i.e. one of the Hyades, nymphs who came originally from Dodona in north-west Greece; here Thyone represents the Hyades star-group as a whole) standing on the brow of Agenor's bull (i.e. Zeus, who, disguised as a bull, abducted Agenor's daughter Europa; here he represents the constellation 'Taurus'). This is the day, Tiber, on which you send the sweepings of Vesta's (temple) down through Etruscan waters to the sea.
June 16: Comitialis (vv. 715-716).
But, when the father of the Heliades (i.e. the daughters of the Sun) had dipped his rays in the waves, and the quiet stars encircle the twin poles, (then) Hyrieus' son (i.e. Orion) will lift his strong arms from the earth; on the next night 'Delphin' (i.e. the Dolphin constellation) will be visible. To be sure, it (i.e. the Dolphin) once saw the Volsci and the Aequi fleeing over your plains, land of Algidus; then, Postumius Tubertus, you famously rode in triumph on your snow-white horses, victorious over your neighbours (i.e. the dictator Aulus Postumius Tubertus won a battle over these two Italian tribes at the Pass of Algidus, near Tusculum on the edge of the Alban Hills in 431 B.C.).
June 19: Comitialis (vv. 725-728).
(Sacred to Minerva, Goddess of crafts and trade guilds, associated with the Greek Athena.)
Now six days and as many again (i.e. twelve days) remain from (the end of) the month, but you must add one day to this number. The sun departs from the 'Gemini' (i.e. the constellation of the Twins), and the star-signs of 'Cancer' (i.e. the constellation of the Crab) blush: Pallas begins to be worshipped on the Aventine Hill (i.e. a temple on the Aventine was dedicated to Minerva on this day).
(Sacred to Summanus, an aspect of Jupiter that was responsible for the casting of lightning bolts at night. Two black wethers [castrated male sheep] are offered to Him, and cakes in the shape of wheels are also sacrificed.)
Now Laomedon, your daughter-in-law (i.e. Aurora, the dawn, wife of Laomedon's son Tithonus) rises, and, as she rises, she drives away the hoar-frost from the meadows: they say a shrine (was) dedicated (i.e. possibly in 278 B.C.) to Summanus (i.e. Jupiter in his capacity as god of the night and its storms), whoever he is, at the time when you, Pyrrhus, (i.e. the King of Epirus 318-272 B.C.) were being such a terror to the Romans.
June 21: Comitialis (vv. 733-762).
When Galatea (a Nereid or sea-nymph) has greeted this day too with her father's (i.e. Nereus') waves, and the earth will be full of carefree peacefulness, the young man (i.e. Ophiucus, the Snake-Holder, associated by the Romans with Aesculapius, the god of healing and medicine), blasted by his grandfather's bolts (i.e. Zeus' thunderbolts), rises from the ground and stretches out his hands, joined together (as they are) by twin snakes. Phaedra's love (is) notorious, Theseus' wrong is notorious: that credulous man has cursed his son (i.e. Hippolytus). The fatally pious youth was heading for Troezen: the bull divides the waters in its path with its chest. The shocked horses are terrified, and, checked in vain, they drag their master over crags and hard rocks. Hippolytus fell from his chariot, and, with the reins hampering his limbs, he was carried along with his lacerated body, and he gave up his spirit, to Diana's great indignation. "(There is) no cause for grief," says the son of Coronis (i.e. Aesculapius), "for I shall restore the pious youth to life free of wounds, and the dismal fates will yield to my art." Immediately he takes some herbs from an ivory casket: they had formerly been of assistance to the shade of Glaucus (i.e. the son of Minos), at the moment when an augur (i.e. Polyidus) had stooped to (pick) herbs, (when he had) observed a snake make use of the help provided by (another) snake. Three times he (i.e. Aesculapius) touched his chest, three times he spoke words of healing: the (youth) (i.e. Hippolytus) raised his drooping head from the ground. The sacred grove and Dictynna (i.e. Diana) in the recesses of her wood conceal him: he (becomes) Virbius of Aricia's lake (i.e. Aricia was a ancient town of Latium near Alba Longa, and its lake was the most sacred of Diana's sanctuaries). But Clymenus (i.e. Pluto) and Clotho (i.e. one of the three Fates) grieve, she that the threads (of life) have been respun, he that the rights of his kingdom have been diminished. Phoebus, you complained: (but) he is a god; be reconciled to your father: he does for you what he forbids to be done (by anyone else) (i.e. to raise the dead: in this case Jupiter restores to life Phoebus' son, Aesculapius, whom he has killed with his thunderbolt).
June 22: Comitialis (vv. 763-770).
Although you rush to conquer, Caesar, I do not wish you to move your standards, if the auspices forbid (it). Let Flaminius and the shores of (Lake) Trasimene (i.e. where the army of the consul Gaius Flaminius was defeated by Hannibal in 217 B.C.) be your witnesses that the just gods warn (us) of many (things) through birds. If you (should) ask what was the reckless occasion of that ancient loss, it (was) ten days from the end of the month.
June 23: Comitialis (vv. 769-770).
The next day (is) better: Masinissa (King of Numidia and the ally of Scipio in the war against Carthage) defeats Syphax (in 203 B.C.), and Hasdrubal (i.e. Hannibal's younger brother), himself, fell by his own sword (i.e. when defeated by Gaius Claudius Nero at the River Metaurus in 207 B.C.).
June 24: Comitialis (vv. 771-784).
(Sacred to Fors Fortuna, Goddess of good fortune. Her festival was a spirited affair, with both people on foot and some on flower-bedecked boats attending. Gardeners brought their vegetables and flowers to market, and then sang solemn prayers to Fors Fortuna. The festival was especially marked by florists and other tradespeople, but was widely celebrated by the common folk.)
Time slips away and we grow old in the silent years, and the days fly by with no bridle restraining (them). How quickly have the honours of Fors Fortuna come (round)! June will be over in seven days time. Go, Quirites (i.e. citizens), and joyfully celebrate the goddess Fors. On the bank of the Tiber she has her gift from the king (i.e. a temple). Rush on down, some (of you) on foot, (and) others in a speedy skiff, and don't be ashamed to return home from there drunk. Garlanded barges, carry your parties of young people and let them drink plenty of wine in midstream. The people worship her because (the man) who founded (her temple) (i.e. King Servius Tullius) was plebeian, it is said, and had come to power from a low estate. She suits slaves too, since Tullius, born from a slave-girl (i.e. Ocresia of Corniculum), built the nearby shrines to the fickle goddess.
June 25: Comitialis and 26: Comitialis (Nefastus Publicus) vv. 785-790.
(Ludi Taurei Quinquennales: these games are held in honor of the deities of the underworld and to appease them against causing plague; they include horse racing and the sacrifice of bulls. The games are held every five years.)
Look, a man returns, in no way sober, from the shrine near the city (i.e. the temple of Fors Fortuna), and slings these words to the stars: "Your belt lies hidden today, and will perhaps be hidden tomorrow: after that, Orion, it will be visible to me." But, if he had not been drunk, he would have declared that the date of the solstice would fall on the same day.
June 27-28: Comitiales (vv. 791-794).
(June 27th was Sacred to Jupiter Stator ("Jupiter the Stayer"), who aided warriors in staying their ground in the face of adversity. Twenty-seven maidens sang a hymn to Juno as they processed through the city.)
When Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) steals in, the Lares (i.e. the household gods focussed on the hearth) gained a shrine, in the place where many wreaths are woven by skilled hands. The same day belongs to the temple of (Jupiter) Stator (i.e. 'The Stayer'), which Romulus once founded on the face of the Palatine's ridge.
June 29: Fastus (vv. 795-796).
(This day was sacred to Hercules Musarum, "Hercules of the Muses". On this day men of letters offered their respects to the more peaceful aspects of Hercules, as well as the nine Muses who governed the arts.)
When there are as many days of the month left as there are names to the Fates (i.e. three), a temple was dedicated to you, (O) Quirinus of the purple robe (i.e. a temple to Quirinus on the Quirinal Hill was dedicated in 293 B.C. by Lucius Papirius Cursor).
June 30: Comitialis (vv. 797-812).
Tomorrow marks the birth of the day of July's Kalends: Pierides (i.e. Muses), add the final (pieces) to my work. Tell (me), Pierides, who attached you to that (man) (i.e. Hercules), to whom a defeated step-mother (i.e. Juno) reluctantly gave her hands? (n.b. in 179 B.C. Marcus Fulvius Nobilior constructed a temple in the Flaminian Circus in which he placed the statues of the Muses which he had brought from Ambracia in north-western Greece). So (I spoke). So Clio (i.e. the Muse of History) (replied): "You are gazing at the monument of the renowned Philippus (i.e. Augustus' step-bother, Lucius Marcius Philippus, suffect consul in 38 B.C., who restored the temple of Hercules and the Muses in 29 B.C.) from whom the chaste Marcia traces her descent, that Marcia, (whose) name is derived from priestly Ancus (i.e. Ancus Marcius, the fourth king of Rome, 642-617 B.C.), and in her, beauty is equal to her nobility (n.b. Marcia, who was a cousin of Augustus, was married to Paullus Fabius Maximus, one of Augustus' closest confidants and Ovid's principal patron). Her beauty also corresponds exactly with her mind: in her, breeding, appearance and intellect (all come) together. Nor should you think (it) disgraceful that I should praise her beauty: in this way, too, I praise great goddesses. Caesar's maternal aunt (i.e. Atia the Younger) was once married to that (man) (i.e. Philippus): O glory, O woman worthy of that sacred house!" So sang Clio, (and) her learned sisters applauded; the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) twanged his lyre.
Favour (me), Vesta! I open my lips now in your service, if I am permitted to attend your scared rites. I was totally (absorbed) in prayer: I felt a heavenly presence, and the joyful earth glowed with a radiant light. I, indeed, did not see you, goddess - away with the fictions of poets! - , nor could you be gazed upon by any man (i.e. Vesta, being the principle of fire, has no visible anthropomorphic form like the other deities); but what I had been unaware of and I had acquired in error, became known to me without instruction. They say that Rome had held the Parilia forty times, when the flame's guardian goddess (i.e. Vesta) was received in her shrine (i.e. since the Parilia of 21st April was identified as the date of Romulus' foundation of Rome in 753 B.C., this must therefore have occurred in 713 B.C.). (This was) the work of that peace-loving king (i.e. Numa Pompilius, Romulus' successor) - the Sabine land has never brought forth any more god-fearing character then him. The roofs of bronze, which you now see, you would then have seen made of straw, and the walls were woven from pliant wicker. This meagre place, which contains the hall of Vesta, was then the mighty palace of the bearded Numa; but the shape of the temple which now remains is said to be as it was before (i.e. it was round), and a sound reason underlies its shape. Vesta and the earth are the same: a sleepless fire underlies (them) both: the earth and the hearth symbolise their own abode. The earth (is) like a ball, resting on no support, so great a weight hangs in the air around (it): its very rotation keeps the globe balanced, and any angle which might press on any of the parts (external to it) (i.e. the air) is absent; and, since it has been placed in the central region of the heavens, so that it more or less touches no side (of anything), if it were not convex, it would be nearer somewhere, and the universe would not have the earth's weight (at) its centre. Through Syracusan art, a globe stands suspended in the enclosed air, a tiny replica of the vast heavens, and the earth is as far distant from the top as (it is) from the bottom; its round shape causes it (to be) as it is. The appearance of the temple (is) similar; no angle projects from it, (and) its dome protects (it) from rain showers.
You ask why the goddess (i.e. Vesta) is served by virgin attendants? I shall find her reasons for this situation too. They say that Juno and Ceres were born from Ops (i.e. the goddess of plenty) by Saturn's seed; the third was Vesta. The (first) two were married, (and) they both bore children, it is said; one of the three remained unable to endure men (i.e. unmarried). What a surprise (is it), if a virgin likes virgin attendants, and admits (only) chaste hands at her rites? You must understand that Vesta (is) nothing other than a living flame; and you see that no bodies (are) born from flame. So she is rightly a virgin, who neither produces nor takes any seed, and she loves companions of her virginity.
For a long time, I foolishly thought that Vesta had statues; (but) I soon learned that there were none beneath her curved rotunda. An unextinguishable fire is concealed within her shrine: neither Vesta nor fire has any image. Earth stands by it own force: Vesta is called from 'vi stando' (i.e. 'depending on force'); and the reason for her Greek name (i.e. Hestia) could be a similar (one). The hearth (i.e. 'focus') is named from flames, and because it heartens (i.e. 'fovet') everything; but it was formerly at the front of the house. From this too I think our 'vestibule' is named; then we preface our prayers with (the name of) Vesta, who holds the first place.
It was once the custom to sit on long benches before the hearth, and to think that the gods were present at your table; Even now, when they are making sacrifices to ancient Vacuna (i.e. the Sabine goddess of victory), (men) stand and sit in front of Vacuna's hearths. Something of an ancient custom has come down to our time: a clean dish bears food offered to Vesta. Look, loaves of bread hang from garlanded asses, and wreaths of flowers veil rough millstones. Farmers formerly roasted only spelt in ovens (i.e. in Rome at the beginning of the second century B.C., ovens were only used to bake bread), - and the Oven goddess (i.e. Fornax) has her own rites. The hearth, itself, baked the bread, placed beneath the ashes: a broken tile had been laid on the warm floor. So the baker honours the hearth and the mistress of hearths (i.e. Vesta), and (so does) the ass which turns the pumice millstones.
Shall I pass by or recount your shame, (O) red-faced Priapus? It is a brief tale, involving much mirth. Coroneted Cybele, with a turreted crown on her head, calls the eternal gods to her feast; she invites the satyrs too, and those rural spirits, the nymphs; Silenus is present, although no one had asked (him). It is not permitted, and it would take (too) long, to tell of the gods' banquet: they keep awake (all) night amid much wine. Some wander casually among the dells of shadowy Ida, some lie down, and stretch their limbs on the soft grass; some play, sleep takes hold of others; some link arms (in the dance) and beat the green earth in a triple quick step. Vesta lies untroubled, and takes a peaceful nap, just as she was, with her head propped up in its place on the turf. But the red-faced custodian of the garden (i.e. Priapus) chases the nymphs and the goddesses, and goes backwards and forwards as he wanders; he catches sight of Vesta too: (it is) uncertain if he thought (she was) a nymph, or knew (she was) Vesta, but he himself denies that he knew. He has indecent hopes, and tries to approach (her) by stealth, and walks on tiptoe with his heart pounding. By chance, old Silenus had left the ass, on which he had been carried, by the banks of a gently bubbling stream; the god of the lengthy Hellespont (i.e. Priapus) was going to make a start, when it brays with an untimely sound. Scared by its raucous voice, the goddess jumps up; the whole group flocks together, but he flees through their hostile hands. Lampsacus (i.e. the port city on the Asian side of the Hellespont that was the centre of the worship of Priapus) is accustomed to sacrifice this animal to Priapus, chanting, "We rightly give the informer's guts to the flames." Goddess (i.e. Vesta), in remembrance you adorn this (creature) with necklaces of bread; the work stops, and the empty mills have fallen silent.
I shall explain what the altar of Jupiter the Baker on the Thunderer's citadel means, (as it is) more renowned for its name than its cost. The Capitol was surrounded and hard pressed by the fierce Gauls (i.e. in 390 B.C., after the battle of the Allia): the long siege had already cause a famine. Having summoned the gods to his royal throne, Jupiter says to Mars, "Begin." At once, he replies: "Surely what my people's misfortune should be is unknown, and that heart-ache of mine needs a voice of complaint. But, if you require that I should briefly tell a tale of sadness linked to shame, Rome lies beneath (the feet of) its Alpine foe. Jupiter, is this (the city) to whom world dominion had been promised? Were you (really) about to impose this (city) on the earth? And she had already battered her neighbours and Etruscan arms: hope was in the ascendant: (but) now she is driven from her home. We have seen our triumphant elders, decked in embroidered robes, slain in their bronze-clad halls; we have seen the tokens of Ilian Vesta removed from their setting: they surely think some gods exist. But, if they should look back at the hill which you inhabit (i.e. the Capitol, home of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva) and so many of your homes hard-pressed by the siege, they will know that no help will come from paying attention to the gods, and that the incense given by an anxious hand should be set aside. Yet, if only there was an open field of battle; let them take up arms, and, if they do not gain the upper hand, let them tumble. Now, in need of food and fearing a coward's death, (they are) shut on their hill and hard pressed by a barbarous mob. Then, Venus, and fair Quirinus with his crook (i.e. the curved staff of an augur) and his purple robe, and Vesta, pleaded on behalf of their Latium. Jupiter replied: "There is a universal concern for those walls, and Gaul (will be) defeated and receive its punishment. Now you, Vesta, make the corn, which is lacking, appear plentiful, and do not desert your abode. Let the hollow mill grind whatever uncrushed grain is (left), and, (after it has been) kneaded by hand, let the hearth bake (it) in the fire." (So) he commanded, and the Saturnian virgin (i.e. Vesta) nodded at her brother's orders, and it was the midnight hour. Now toil had given sleep to their leaders. Jupiter scolds them and tells (them) what he wants through his sacred lips: "Arise, and from the heights of the citadel hurl into the midst of the foe the resource which you least wish to throw." Sleep leaves (them); and, provoked by this strange riddle, they ask what resource would they not wish to deliver, and (yet) they were now being asked (to do so). It seemed to be bread; they throw down the gifts of Ceres: having been thrown, they clatter on their helmets and long shields. The hope that they could be defeated by famine dies: the foe having been repelled, a white altar is erected to Jupiter the Baker.
I happened to be returning from the festival of Vesta along (the path) where New Street is now joined to the Roman Forum: there I saw a lady coming down barefooted; I was silently astonished and checked my step. And old woman from the neighbourhood saw (me) and told me to sit down, and, shaking her head, she says in a trembling voice: "Soaking swamps occupied this (ground) where the Forum now is; this ditch was drenched by the stream with its overflowing waters. Lake Curtius over there (i.e. an area of the Forum), which supports dry altars, is now solid ground, but was once a lake; (the place) where the Velabrum (i.e. an area between the Capitoline and Palatine Hills) usually ushers processions into the Circus, was (then) nothing but willows and hollow reeds: often a guest returning across suburban waters would sing and chuck drunken words at the boatmen. That god who fits different forms (i.e. Vertumnus) had not yet taken his name from diverting the river (i.e. 'averso amne'). Here too, there was a (sacred) grove, thick with rushes and reeds, and a marsh not to be entered with a shod foot. The pools have receded, and the banks confine their waters, and the ground is now dry: but the custom (i.e. of removing one's shoes) remains. She had explained the reason. "Farewell, (you) dear old lady!" I said. "May all that remains of your life be easy."
I learned everything else (about Vesta) in my childhood years, but I should not pass over (it) on that account. Ilus, the descendant of Dardanus, had just built a new city (i.e. Ilium or Troy) - still rich, Ilus possessed the wealth of Asia; it is thought that a heavenly statue of armed Minerva (i.e. the Palladium) had fallen on the hills of the city of Ilium. (I was anxious to see (it): I saw the temple and the site; that is all that is left there: Rome has Pallas (i.e. the Palladium).) Smintheus (i.e. Apollo 'the Mouse'; in his oracular capacity he had a temple at Chryse in the Troad) is consulted, and in the darkness of his shady grove he uttered these words from his truthful lips: "Keep the heavenly goddess (i.e. the Palladium) safe, and you will keep the city safe: she will take with her the power of the place." Ilus preserves (her) and keeps (her) locked up on the heights of the citadel, and her care reverts to his heir Laomedon; under Priam (she was) not safe enough: she, herself, had wished (it) so, after that judgment, in which her beauty was rejected (i.e. the Judgment of Paris). Either the grandson of Adrastus (i.e. Diomedes, whose mother Deipyle was the daughter of Adrastus, king of Argos), or Ulysses, suited to robbery, has taken (her), they say, or it was Aeneas; the agent (is) uncertain, (but) the thing is now Roman: Vesta guards (her), because she sees everything in her unfailing light. Oh, how terrified was the senate, when Vesta's (temple) caught fire (i.e. this conflagration took place in 241 B.C.) and she was almost buried by her own roof! The holy fires were blazing with the fires of sin; profane flame was mingled with pious flame. Her stunned attendants (i.e. the Vestal Virgins) wept, with their hair let down: fear, itself, had robbed (them) of their bodily strength. Metellus (i.e. Lucius Caecilius Metellus, consul in 251 and 247 B.C., and Pontifex Maximus) rushes into their midst, and cries in a loud voice, "Come to the rescue; tears are no help. Take the tokens of fate (i.e. Vesta's sacred flame and the Palladium) in your virginal hands: they need to be rescued not by prayer, but by hand. (Ah,) woe (is) me! Do you hesitate?" he says. He saw (them) hesitating, and they sank down on bended knee in their panic. He draws water, and, lifting up his hands, he said, "Forgive (me), holy (one): (as) a man, I shall enter where no man should go. If this is a crime, let the punishment for the act fall on me: let Rome be saved by the loss of my life." He spoke, and in he burst: the goddess he carried off approved his deed, and was saved by the devotion of her priest. Now, sacred flames, you shine brightly under Caesar's (rule): now there is, and there will (continue) to be fire on Ilian hearths (i.e. the sacred fire in the temple of Vesta); no priestess will be said to have profaned her headbands (i.e. to have disgraced her office by unchaste acts), while he is leader, and none will be buried alive in the earth: so the unchaste perish, because she is buried in the (ground) that she has defiled: the Earth and Vesta are the same deity.
On this day, Brutus won his surname from his Callaecian foes and dyed the soil of Hispania with their blood (i.e. Decimus Junius Brutus, consul in 138 B.C. won the surname Callaecus after defeating the people of what is now Galicia in Portugal in 138-137). Of course, sadness is sometimes mixed with joy, lest the people's heart should delight in festivals completely. (On this day too), Crassus lost his eagles, his son and his (men) at the Euphrates, and he gave himself to death as its final (prize) (i.e. at the battle of Carrhae in 53 B.C.). "Parthian, why do you gloat?" said the goddess (i.e. Vesta). "You will return the standards, and there will be an avenger who will deliver punishment for the death of Crassus."
June 10: Nefastus (vv. 469-472).
But once the garlands of flowers are stripped from the long-eared asses, and the rough stones grind the fruit of Ceres (i.e. grain), the sailor sitting on the poop-deck says, "We'll see the Dolphin (i.e. the constellation), when the day is expelled and the damp night comes on."
June 11: Matralia: Nefastus (Publicus) (vv. 473-648).
(June 11th was the date of the festival of Mater Matuta, Goddess of growth, childbirth, motherhood, and the raising of children. On that day mothers were honored by their children and husbands, and mothers prayed for their children and the children of their siblings. The statue of Mater Matuta could only be decorated on this day by a 'univira' [the wife of a first marriage]. Female slaves were excluded from the temple, with the exception of one who was ritually beaten, either as a warning to others not to cuckold free-born husbands, or as a fertility rite in and of itself. Testuacia [sacred cakes] were offered to the Goddess, cooked in a 'testu' [an old-fashioned earthenware pot]. June 11th was also sacred to Fortuna, Goddess of fate, chance, luck, and fortune.)
Now, Phrygian Tithonus (i.e. brother of Priam and husband of Aurora, the Dawn), you complain that you have been abandoned by your bride (i.e. she leaves him each morning), and the watchman Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) leaves the eastern waters: go, good mothers - the Matralia (i.e. the festival of Motherhood) (is) your festival - and offer the Theban goddess (i.e. Ino, the daughter of Cadmus, king of Thebes, whom the Romans associated with Matuta) your yellow cakes. By the bridges (i.e. the Pons Sulpicius and the Pons Aemilius) and the great Circus is a busy square that takes its name from the (statue of) an ox (that is) placed (there) (i.e. the Forum Boarium). There, on this day, they say that Servius' sceptre-bearing hands (i.e. those of Servius Tullius, Rome's sixth king 575-535 B.C.) gave Mother Matuta a holy temple. Who is this goddess, (and) why does she bar female slaves from the threshold of her temple - for bar (them) she does - and ask for toasted cakes? Bacchus, (you) whose hair is ornamented with clusters of ivy, if this is your house, direct the poet's work!
Semele (i.e. daughter of Cadmus and sister of Ino) had been incinerated with the compliance of Jupiter (i.e. at the instigation of Juno); Ino takes you, child (i.e. Bacchus, Semele's son by Jupiter) and diligently suckles (you) with the utmost care. Juno swelled (with wrath) that she should raise the son of a concubine: but he was (of) the blood of her sister. So Athamas (i.e. Ino' s husband, driven mad by Juno) is haunted by the furies and false visions, and you, little Learchus, fall by your father's hand: the grief-stricken mother buried Learchus' shade, and performed the rites due to the piteous pyre. When she has torn her hair in sorrow, she too runs amok and seizes you, Melicertes, from your cradle. A single (piece of) land (i.e. the Isthmus of Corinth), confined in a small space, separates two straits, and is pounded by two (stretches of) water: to this place she (i.e. Ino) comes in a state of frenzy, clutching her son in her arms, and she hurls (him) together with herself into the deep from a lofty crag. Panope and her hundred sisters (i.e. the sea-nymphs, the daughters of Nereus) receive (them) unharmed, and bear (them) in a gentle course through their realm. (She has) not yet (become) Leucothea, nor (has) the boy yet (become) Palaemon, (but) they reach the mouth of the Tiber, thick with whirlpools. There was a grove; (it is) uncertain (whether) it is called Semele's or Stimula's; they say the Ausonian Maenads (i.e. the Bacchantes, the female devotees of Bacchus) lived (there): Ino asks them what their race was. She hears they are Arcadians, and that Evander holds the sceptre in this place; disguising her divinity, the daughter of Saturn (i.e. Juno) insidiously incites the Latin Bacchantes into (speaking) deceitful words: "O (you who are) too good-natured, O (you) who lack a full mind, this stranger does not come to our band (as) a friend. She operates by deceit, and intends to learn our sacred rites. (But) she has a child, on whom it is possible to wreak punishment." Well, scarcely had she finished (speaking), (when) the Thyiads (i.e. Bacchantes), with their hair streaming down their necks, fill the breezes with their howling, and they lay their hands on the boy (i.e. Melicertes) and fight to tear (him) away. She (i.e. Ino) invokes the gods, of whom she is still unaware: "Gods and men of this place, give help to a wretched mother." Her cry hit the nearby rocks of the Aventine. The Oetean (hero) (i.e. Hercules, the epithet, here used proleptically, coming from Mount Oeta in Thessaly, where Hercules' pyre was located) had driven his cattle to the riverbank: on Hercules' arrival, (the women) who were just preparing to use force, turned their cowardly backs in feminine flight. "What are you doing here, Bacchus' maternal aunt?" he says. "Or (does) the goddess (i.e. Juno) (that harasses) me, harass you too?" She tells (him) some (of her story), but the presence of her son prevents (her from telling) the rest (of it), and she is ashamed that, through her fury, she fell into sin. Rumour, rapid as it is, flies on beating wings, and your name, Ino, is frequently on (men's) lips. You are said to have entered the faithful household of Carmentis (i.e. the prophetic mother of Evander) (as) a guest, and to have set aside your long refusal to eat. The Tegean (i.e. Arcadian) priestess (i.e. Carmentis) is said to have hurried into offering cakes with her own hands, (which she) baked on a hasty hearth. Now cakes delight her too at the festival of the Matralia. Rustic endeavour was more pleasing to her than skill. "Now," she (i.e. Ino) says, "O prophetess, reveal my future fate, as far as it's allowed: add this, I beg (you) to my welcome." There is a short delay, (then) the prophetess assumes heavenly powers, and her whole breast becomes full with (the presence of) her god. All at once, you would scarcely know her, so much holier and so much taller was she than (she had been) a moment before. "I'll sing joyful (things): rejoice, Ino, now that you have done away with your toils," she said, "and always show favour to this people. You will be a sea-goddess: the sea too will have your son. Take other names in your waters. You will be called Leucothea (i.e. White Goddess) by the Greeks, Matuta by us; your son will have complete authority in the harbours. We will call (him) Portunus, his own tongue (will know him as) Palaemon. Go, and may both of you, I pray, be friendly to our countries." She (i.e. Ino) nodded, and her word was promised; they set aside their toils (and) changed their names; he is a god and she a goddess.
Do you ask why she forbids female attendants access? She hates (them), and I shall sing of the source of that hatred, if she lets (me). One of your maid servants (i.e. Antiphera), daughter of Cadmus (i.e. Ino), often used to enjoy your husband's embraces. Wicked Athamas made love to her in secret; from her he learned that parched seeds were given (by you) to the farmers (i.e. to cause a famine): it's true that you yourself deny that you have done (so), but rumour confirms (it). This is why a slave girl's service is hateful to you. However, no dutiful mother should pray to her on behalf of her child: she herself seemed to have been a not very fortunate parent. You will (do) better (to) entrust her with someone else's child: she was of more use to Bacchus than to her own (children).
They say that she asked you, Rutilius (i.e. Publius Rutilius Lupus, consul in 90 B.C. fell in battle against the Marsians during the Social War), "Where are you rushing to? On my day, you (as) consul will fall at the hands of our Marsian foe." The outcome agreed with my words, and the river Tolenus (i.e. the present day Turano) flowed purple, as its waters (were) mixed with his blood. The next year came: on the same (day) that Pallantis (i.e. the dawn) rose, the slain Didius (i.e. Titus Didius, consul in 98 B.C. as a 'novus homo', and killed in battle against the Marsians in 89 B.C. according to Ovid) doubled the enemy's strength. The same day (i.e. the same day as the festival of Matuta) is yours, Fortuna (i.e. the goddess of fate or chance), and the founder (i.e. Servius Tullius) and the site (of your temple [i.e. the Forum Boarium] are the same); but who is that lurking under those piled togas? It is Servius, for that is agreed: but the cause of his hiding is disputed, and I too have a doubt in my mind. When the goddess (i.e. Fortuna) shyly confesses her secret love, and is ashamed that, (as) a celestial (being) she has lain with a man - for she burned (with passion), having been seized with desire for the king (i.e. Servius Tullius), and she was not blind in relation to this man alone - she used to enter his house at night through a small window, from which the gate of the Fenestella gets its name. Now she feels shame and hides his beloved features under a cloth, and the king's face is covered by many a toga. Or is it more true that after Tullius' funeral the people had become bewildered by the death of their gentle leader: nor was there any end (to it); (and) their grief grew at (the sight of) his statue, until they covered him under a heap of togas?
I must sing at greater length about a third cause (i.e. for the statue being covered); however, we shall keep our horses on a tight rein. Tullia (i.e. Servius' daughter), her marriage having been secured as the reward of crime (i.e. both she and her husband had murdered their former spouses), kept goading her husband (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus) with these words: "What is the use of (us) being equally matched, you by my sister's murder and I by your brother's, if a virtuous life seems good (to us). Both my husband and your wife ought to have lived, if we were not about to venture any greater deed. I offer both my father's life and throne (as) a dowry. If you are a man, go (and) claim the riches of the dowry of which I speak. Crime (is) an attribute of royalty: kill your father-in-law, seize his kingdom, and stain our hands in my father's blood." Incited by such (words), the private (citizen) occupies the high throne; in their astonishment, the people rush to arms: then (comes) blood and slaughter, and infirm old age is conquered: Superbus, the son-in-law, seizes and takes possession of his father-in-law's sceptre. Beneath the Esquiline, where his palace was, he himself falls, butchered, on the hard ground, gushing with blood. His daughter rode, high and haughty, in her carriage through the middle of the streets in order to enter her father's house. When her driver saw the body, he halted with tears streaming (down his face); she reproves him in the following terms: "Go on, will you, or you can expect to pay the bitter price of piety!" Drive your reluctant wheels, I am telling (you), over his face." (There is) definite evidence of this deed: Evil Street (is) named after her, and this business is marked by eternal infamy.
Yet (even) after this, she (still) dared to visit the temple (which was) her father's monument: (what) I say (is) strange indeed, but yet it occurred. There was a statue (there) which represented Tullius seated on a throne; it is said that it placed a hand over its eyes, and a voice was heard: "Conceal my countenance, lest it should see the unspeakable face of my daughter." It is covered by a robe (that is) supplied; Fortuna forbids that is should be removed, and thus she herself spoke from her temple: "The day on which Servius is first revealed, after his face has been uncovered, that will be the first (day on which) modesty is set aside." Refrain, ladies, from touching the forbidden robes - it is enough to utter your prayer in a solemn voice - and let the head (of one) who was the seventh king in our city (n.b. Servius Tullius is usually considered to be Rome's sixth king, but Ovid has included Titus Tatius, Romulus' Sabine co-regent, in the count) always be covered by a Roman garment. This temple was burned down (i.e. both the temple of Fortuna and that of Mater Matuta in the Forum Boarium were consumed by fire in 213 B.C. and their rebuilding started in the following year): but that fire spared the statue; Mulciber (i.e. Vulcan; the epithet 'Mulciber', meaning 'Melter', refers to Vulcan in his capacity as a blacksmith) himself brought help to his son. For Vulcan was Tullius' father, and the outstandingly beautiful Ocresia of Corniculum (was) his mother. Tanaquil (i.e. the prophetic wife of Lucius Tarquinius Priscus, Rome's fifth king, and the mistress of Ocresia) ordered her, when she was performing the sacred rites with her in accordance with custom to pour wine on to the hearth (that was being) embellished: there among the ashes there was, or there seemed (to be), the shape of a man's sexual organ, but (it is) more (than likely that that was what) it was. The slave (girl) (i.e. Ocresia) sat on the hearth (as she had been) ordered: Servius is conceived by her, (but) he has the seed of a divine family. His father (i.e. Vulcan) gave the sign (of paternity) at the moment when he touched his head with tremulous fire, and a crown of flames glowed on his hair.
Livia endows you, too, Concordia with a magnificent shrine, which she herself dedicated to her dear husband (i.e. Livia dedicated the Porticus Liviae to Augustus in 7 B.C. but the altar to Concordia within it was probably dedicated at a later date). Learn (this), (you) age to come: (the site) where Livia's Colonnade now stands was once occupied by a massive house (i.e. the house of Publius Vedius Pollio, a rich freedman, on the Esquiline, left by him to Augustus in his will in 15 B.C.); that one house was the work of a city, and many towns occupy a smaller space than it occupied within its walls. It was levelled to the ground, not through any charge of kingship, but because it seemed to be harmful due to its extravagance. (As) its heir, Caesar readily bore the demolition of so great a mass of buildings, and the destruction of so much of his wealth: so is criticism delivered, and so are examples set, when a judge does himself what he advises others (to do).
June 13: Ides: The lesser Quinquatrus: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 649-710).
(June 13th-15th: also known as the "lesser Quinquatria" - the Greater Quinquatria being held on 19-23rd March. It was a festival of the 'tibicines' [flute-players who played at religious occasions to drown out any ill-omened noises]. For three days they wandered the city in masks and festive clothing, making music and livening up everyday business. The festival was also sacred to Minerva, who was the patron Goddess of the 'tibicines'. In ancient times they would have met at Her temple and then gone to the temple of Jupiter for a feast.)
On the next day (i.e. June 12th) there is no feature which you can speak about; on the Ides a temple was dedicated to Jupiter the Unconquered. And now I am obliged to tell of the lesser Quinquatrus (i.e. the greater Quinquatria occurred on the 19th-23rd March). Now, be present O yellow(-haired) Minerva as I begin (my task). Why does a wandering flautist walk all through the City? What is the meaning of his mask and his long robe?" Thus I (asked). (And) thus Tritonia (i.e. Minerva), laying down her spear, replied - if only I could recount the goddess's (exact) words! - : "In the days of your ancient forebears, great use was (made) of flautists, and they were always (held) in great honour: the flute was played in shrines and at the games, and the flute was played at tearful funerals; the work was sweetened by its rewards. Then a time followed which suddenly shattered the practice of this graceful art. Add (to this) that an aedile had instructed that that the performers who went in a funeral procession should be (restricted) to only ten (i.e. this is referring to Appius Claudius Caecus, who was censor in 312 B.C. This requirement was almost certainly enacted in the Twelve Tables of 451-450 B.C, but Appius probably enforced it more strictly, and he also forbade flautists from eating within the Temple of Jupiter.) In exile they exchange their city and withdraw to Tibur (i.e. this happened in 311 B.C.): at one time (going) to Tiber meant exile. The hollow flute is missed on the stage (and) it is missed at the altars; no dirge accompanies the final bier. There was a certain freedman, worthy of a rank as great as you like, but who had been freed at Tibur a long time ago. He prepares his own feast at his country(-house), and invites the tuneful throng (i.e. the guild of flautists): they arrive at the festive banquet. It was night, and their vision and their minds were awash with strong wine, when a messenger arrives with a concocted story, and spoke thus: "Why are you (so) slow to break up the party? For look, the instigator of your manumission is coming." Without delay, the guests stir their limbs, (although they are) tottering from the strong wine; and they slip and slide on their uncertain feet. But the master cries, "Away with you!" and he lifts up the dawdlers on to a cart; on the cart a wickerwork frame was constructed. The hour, and the motion, and the wine brought on sleep, and the drunken crowd think they are returning to Tibur. But they had already entered the city of Rome by the Esquiline, and at dawn the cart was (standing) in the middle of the Forum. In order that he could deceive the senate as to their rank and number, Plautius (i.e. Gaius Plautius Venox, censor in 312 B.C. together with Appius Claudius) tells (them) that their faces should be covered by masks; and he adds others to (them), and, so that he might swell the group of flautists, he tells (them) to wear long gowns. Thus, they could effectively veil the returning men, so they should not be censured for their coming back contrary to his colleague's edicts. The plan succeeded, and they were allowed to employ strange dress on the Ides, and to sing playful words to old tunes.
When she had instructed me, I said, "It (still) remains for me to learn why this day should be called Quinquatrus." "March," she says, "celebrates my festival of that name," and that guild is also one of my creations. I first enabled the long flute to produce notes. The sound was pleasing: (but) when my face was reflected in the clear waters, I saw that my virginal cheeks were (all) puffed up. 'This art is not important to me; away with you, my flute!' I said: the bank receives my cast-off on its turf. A satyr (i.e. Marsyas) finds it, and at first he marvels (at it) and does not understand its use, but he learns that blowing into (it) produces sound; and now he works (it) with his fingers, and now he gives (it) breaths, and already he was boastful of his skill among the nymphs: he also challenges Phoebus. Overcome by Phoebus, he is hanged; his flayed limbs are separated from their skin. Yet, I am the inventor and author of this (type of) song : this is why that art observes my feast day."
June 15: Fastus (vv. 711-714).
The third night will come, when you will see Dodonid Thyone (i.e. one of the Hyades, nymphs who came originally from Dodona in north-west Greece; here Thyone represents the Hyades star-group as a whole) standing on the brow of Agenor's bull (i.e. Zeus, who, disguised as a bull, abducted Agenor's daughter Europa; here he represents the constellation 'Taurus'). This is the day, Tiber, on which you send the sweepings of Vesta's (temple) down through Etruscan waters to the sea.
June 16: Comitialis (vv. 715-716).
But, when the father of the Heliades (i.e. the daughters of the Sun) had dipped his rays in the waves, and the quiet stars encircle the twin poles, (then) Hyrieus' son (i.e. Orion) will lift his strong arms from the earth; on the next night 'Delphin' (i.e. the Dolphin constellation) will be visible. To be sure, it (i.e. the Dolphin) once saw the Volsci and the Aequi fleeing over your plains, land of Algidus; then, Postumius Tubertus, you famously rode in triumph on your snow-white horses, victorious over your neighbours (i.e. the dictator Aulus Postumius Tubertus won a battle over these two Italian tribes at the Pass of Algidus, near Tusculum on the edge of the Alban Hills in 431 B.C.).
June 19: Comitialis (vv. 725-728).
(Sacred to Minerva, Goddess of crafts and trade guilds, associated with the Greek Athena.)
Now six days and as many again (i.e. twelve days) remain from (the end of) the month, but you must add one day to this number. The sun departs from the 'Gemini' (i.e. the constellation of the Twins), and the star-signs of 'Cancer' (i.e. the constellation of the Crab) blush: Pallas begins to be worshipped on the Aventine Hill (i.e. a temple on the Aventine was dedicated to Minerva on this day).
June 20: Comitialis (vv. 729-732).
(Sacred to Summanus, an aspect of Jupiter that was responsible for the casting of lightning bolts at night. Two black wethers [castrated male sheep] are offered to Him, and cakes in the shape of wheels are also sacrificed.)
Now Laomedon, your daughter-in-law (i.e. Aurora, the dawn, wife of Laomedon's son Tithonus) rises, and, as she rises, she drives away the hoar-frost from the meadows: they say a shrine (was) dedicated (i.e. possibly in 278 B.C.) to Summanus (i.e. Jupiter in his capacity as god of the night and its storms), whoever he is, at the time when you, Pyrrhus, (i.e. the King of Epirus 318-272 B.C.) were being such a terror to the Romans.
June 21: Comitialis (vv. 733-762).
When Galatea (a Nereid or sea-nymph) has greeted this day too with her father's (i.e. Nereus') waves, and the earth will be full of carefree peacefulness, the young man (i.e. Ophiucus, the Snake-Holder, associated by the Romans with Aesculapius, the god of healing and medicine), blasted by his grandfather's bolts (i.e. Zeus' thunderbolts), rises from the ground and stretches out his hands, joined together (as they are) by twin snakes. Phaedra's love (is) notorious, Theseus' wrong is notorious: that credulous man has cursed his son (i.e. Hippolytus). The fatally pious youth was heading for Troezen: the bull divides the waters in its path with its chest. The shocked horses are terrified, and, checked in vain, they drag their master over crags and hard rocks. Hippolytus fell from his chariot, and, with the reins hampering his limbs, he was carried along with his lacerated body, and he gave up his spirit, to Diana's great indignation. "(There is) no cause for grief," says the son of Coronis (i.e. Aesculapius), "for I shall restore the pious youth to life free of wounds, and the dismal fates will yield to my art." Immediately he takes some herbs from an ivory casket: they had formerly been of assistance to the shade of Glaucus (i.e. the son of Minos), at the moment when an augur (i.e. Polyidus) had stooped to (pick) herbs, (when he had) observed a snake make use of the help provided by (another) snake. Three times he (i.e. Aesculapius) touched his chest, three times he spoke words of healing: the (youth) (i.e. Hippolytus) raised his drooping head from the ground. The sacred grove and Dictynna (i.e. Diana) in the recesses of her wood conceal him: he (becomes) Virbius of Aricia's lake (i.e. Aricia was a ancient town of Latium near Alba Longa, and its lake was the most sacred of Diana's sanctuaries). But Clymenus (i.e. Pluto) and Clotho (i.e. one of the three Fates) grieve, she that the threads (of life) have been respun, he that the rights of his kingdom have been diminished. Phoebus, you complained: (but) he is a god; be reconciled to your father: he does for you what he forbids to be done (by anyone else) (i.e. to raise the dead: in this case Jupiter restores to life Phoebus' son, Aesculapius, whom he has killed with his thunderbolt).
June 22: Comitialis (vv. 763-770).
Although you rush to conquer, Caesar, I do not wish you to move your standards, if the auspices forbid (it). Let Flaminius and the shores of (Lake) Trasimene (i.e. where the army of the consul Gaius Flaminius was defeated by Hannibal in 217 B.C.) be your witnesses that the just gods warn (us) of many (things) through birds. If you (should) ask what was the reckless occasion of that ancient loss, it (was) ten days from the end of the month.
June 23: Comitialis (vv. 769-770).
The next day (is) better: Masinissa (King of Numidia and the ally of Scipio in the war against Carthage) defeats Syphax (in 203 B.C.), and Hasdrubal (i.e. Hannibal's younger brother), himself, fell by his own sword (i.e. when defeated by Gaius Claudius Nero at the River Metaurus in 207 B.C.).
June 24: Comitialis (vv. 771-784).
(Sacred to Fors Fortuna, Goddess of good fortune. Her festival was a spirited affair, with both people on foot and some on flower-bedecked boats attending. Gardeners brought their vegetables and flowers to market, and then sang solemn prayers to Fors Fortuna. The festival was especially marked by florists and other tradespeople, but was widely celebrated by the common folk.)
Time slips away and we grow old in the silent years, and the days fly by with no bridle restraining (them). How quickly have the honours of Fors Fortuna come (round)! June will be over in seven days time. Go, Quirites (i.e. citizens), and joyfully celebrate the goddess Fors. On the bank of the Tiber she has her gift from the king (i.e. a temple). Rush on down, some (of you) on foot, (and) others in a speedy skiff, and don't be ashamed to return home from there drunk. Garlanded barges, carry your parties of young people and let them drink plenty of wine in midstream. The people worship her because (the man) who founded (her temple) (i.e. King Servius Tullius) was plebeian, it is said, and had come to power from a low estate. She suits slaves too, since Tullius, born from a slave-girl (i.e. Ocresia of Corniculum), built the nearby shrines to the fickle goddess.
June 25: Comitialis and 26: Comitialis (Nefastus Publicus) vv. 785-790.
(Ludi Taurei Quinquennales: these games are held in honor of the deities of the underworld and to appease them against causing plague; they include horse racing and the sacrifice of bulls. The games are held every five years.)
Look, a man returns, in no way sober, from the shrine near the city (i.e. the temple of Fors Fortuna), and slings these words to the stars: "Your belt lies hidden today, and will perhaps be hidden tomorrow: after that, Orion, it will be visible to me." But, if he had not been drunk, he would have declared that the date of the solstice would fall on the same day.
June 27-28: Comitiales (vv. 791-794).
(June 27th was Sacred to Jupiter Stator ("Jupiter the Stayer"), who aided warriors in staying their ground in the face of adversity. Twenty-seven maidens sang a hymn to Juno as they processed through the city.)
When Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) steals in, the Lares (i.e. the household gods focussed on the hearth) gained a shrine, in the place where many wreaths are woven by skilled hands. The same day belongs to the temple of (Jupiter) Stator (i.e. 'The Stayer'), which Romulus once founded on the face of the Palatine's ridge.
June 29: Fastus (vv. 795-796).
(This day was sacred to Hercules Musarum, "Hercules of the Muses". On this day men of letters offered their respects to the more peaceful aspects of Hercules, as well as the nine Muses who governed the arts.)
When there are as many days of the month left as there are names to the Fates (i.e. three), a temple was dedicated to you, (O) Quirinus of the purple robe (i.e. a temple to Quirinus on the Quirinal Hill was dedicated in 293 B.C. by Lucius Papirius Cursor).
June 30: Comitialis (vv. 797-812).
Tomorrow marks the birth of the day of July's Kalends: Pierides (i.e. Muses), add the final (pieces) to my work. Tell (me), Pierides, who attached you to that (man) (i.e. Hercules), to whom a defeated step-mother (i.e. Juno) reluctantly gave her hands? (n.b. in 179 B.C. Marcus Fulvius Nobilior constructed a temple in the Flaminian Circus in which he placed the statues of the Muses which he had brought from Ambracia in north-western Greece). So (I spoke). So Clio (i.e. the Muse of History) (replied): "You are gazing at the monument of the renowned Philippus (i.e. Augustus' step-bother, Lucius Marcius Philippus, suffect consul in 38 B.C., who restored the temple of Hercules and the Muses in 29 B.C.) from whom the chaste Marcia traces her descent, that Marcia, (whose) name is derived from priestly Ancus (i.e. Ancus Marcius, the fourth king of Rome, 642-617 B.C.), and in her, beauty is equal to her nobility (n.b. Marcia, who was a cousin of Augustus, was married to Paullus Fabius Maximus, one of Augustus' closest confidants and Ovid's principal patron). Her beauty also corresponds exactly with her mind: in her, breeding, appearance and intellect (all come) together. Nor should you think (it) disgraceful that I should praise her beauty: in this way, too, I praise great goddesses. Caesar's maternal aunt (i.e. Atia the Younger) was once married to that (man) (i.e. Philippus): O glory, O woman worthy of that sacred house!" So sang Clio, (and) her learned sisters applauded; the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) twanged his lyre.
