THE MULTIPLE USES OF PARTICIPLES IN GREEK

Introduction.

When one is engaged in translating a piece of Ancient Greek into English, one is often surprised at the very widespread incidence of 'Participles' or 'Verbal Adjectives' in the text. Such participles are often at the centre of 'phrases', which are units of words distinguishable from 'clauses' in that, unlike the latter, they lack the presence of a 'finite verb'. For those of us who have been taught Greek syntax principally through the medium of Greek prose composition, the extent of such phrases, and the participles which are often within them, can be somewhat disconcerting, as our early learning of the language was largely structured around an understanding of clauses, firstly main clauses, and then subordinate clauses. In most of the standard grammatical textbooks of Greek, participles and their uses are dealt with on an incidental and relatively incoherent basis, and therefore the translator is likely to be unprepared for the apparently central part they tend to play in the structure of so much written Greek. This article intends to address in some detail the numerous uses to which participles are put in Greek and to highlight those uses with actual examples of how they work in practice. 

1.  The Participle - definition and description of its use.

In Greek the participle was called by the First Century B.C. Hellenistic grammarian Dionysius Thrax as 'ἡ μετοχή' (a participation), because 'it shares the specific character of verbs and of nouns' (μετέχουσα τῆς ῥημάτων καὶ τῆς τῶν ὀνοματων ἰδιότητος). A participle, like an adjective, is used to modify or qualify nouns, with which it agrees in case, number and gender, but, unlike an adjective, it can, in accordance with its verbal functions, a) take an object in the accusative or in any other case applicable to its verb, and b) express distinctions in aspect/time and in voice. In this context, the participle is one of the 'infinite' forms of a verb, i.e. it is not limited in terms of mood and person as are finite verbs. Other forms of the Verb Infinite in Greek are the 'Infinitive' and the 'Gerundive'. With regard to time, Greek verbs have separate participles to express present, past and future time; with regard to aspect such participles can also differentiate between process, event and state; and with regard to voice, Greek participles can be active, middle or passive. 

2.  Available forms of the participle.

In terms of inflexion, Greek verbs often have as many as eleven participles available, and this remarkable number, and the flexibility which they thus provide, helps to explain why their use is so common in Greek. In order to illustrate this, the participles of the paradigmatic verb 'λύω' (I loose, I free, I ransom [Middle]) are listed below, together with the three forms of the nominative singular relating to gender:

λύων, λύουσα, λῦον                                   Present Active                  Freeing

λύσας, λύσασα, λῦσαν                               Aorist Active                    Freeing, Having freed

λελυκώς, λελυκυῖα, λελυκός                      Perfect Active                   Having freed

λύσων, λύσουσα, λῦσον                             Future Active                    Being about to free

λυόμενος, λυομένη, λυόμενον                    Present Middle                   Ransoming

                                                                  Present Passive                 Being freed

λυσάμενος, λυσαμένη, λυσάμενον           Aorist Middle          Ransoming, Having ransomed

λελυμένος, λελυμένη, λελυμένον               Perfect Middle                  Having ransomed

                                                                  Perfect Passive                 Having been freed

λυσομένος, λυσομένη, λυσόμενον              Future Middle                  Being about to ransom

λελυσόμενος, λελυσομένη, λελυσόμενον Future Perfect Middle Having been about to ransom

                                                          Future Perfect Passive Having been about to be freed

λυθείς, λυθεῖσα, λυθέν                                Aorist Passive                   Being freed, Freed

λυθησομενος, λυθησομένη, λυθησόμενον  Future Passive                  Being about to be freed

(N.B. It should be noted that Greek lacks a participle relating to the Future Perfect Active. Such a participle could only be formed periphrastically.)

Partly because of the significant number of participles relating to each verb, the participle plays a greater part in Greek than in Latin, which only has three participles for any verb. Latin's lack of a Past Participle Active and a Present Participle Passive creates significant restrictions in practice. It is also worth remarking that English verbs only possess two participles, a Present Participle (e.g. Loosening) and a Past Participle Passive (e.g. Loosened); indeed to create other participles in our own language it is necessary in practice to employ auxiliary verbs such as 'having', 'being', and 'been' on a periphrastic basis, and we often use participles in a fairly loose manner, making the two we do have do almost all the work grammatically. The Greeks, on the contrary, having so many of them, used them with great precision.   

3.  Aspect and Time. 

Before looking in detail at the manifold uses of participles in Greek, it is necessary to outline how they relate to both aspect and time, as indicated in Section 1 above. The present participle represents the action as a process occurring simultaneously with the time of the main verb; the aorist participle as an action occurring simultaneously with, or prior to, the time of the main verb; the perfect participle relates to a state occurring in the present as the result of an action in the past; and the future participle is used when the action is subsequent to the action of the main verb, and often in order to express purpose or intention. Examples of these usages are set out below:

a)  ἐξῆλθον βοῶντες. They went out shouting. (Present participle: simultaneous process in past time.) 

b)  βοήσας εἶπεν.  He said with a shout.  (Aorist participle:  simultaneous event in past time.)

c)  τὴν γῆν καταλιπόντες ταχέως ἔπλευσαν. After leaving the land, they sailed quickly. (Aorist participle:  prior event in past time.)

d)  χαίρει ὥσπερ ἤδη πεποιημένων τῶν σπονδῶν. He is rejoicing as if a peace treaty has already been made.  (Perfect participle:  present state in present time.)

e)  ἥκουσιν ὑμῖν ἀγγελοῦντες.  They have come to tell you. (Future participle:  future intention in present time.)

Of all the matters concerning the use of participles in Greek, the above rules are perhaps of the greatest significance. The regular use of the Aorist participle to describe an event simultaneous to the time of the main verb, and which in English is therefore rendered by the Present participle, is perhaps the usage which most needs to be appreciated by the translator in this context.  

4.  Substantival and Adjectival uses of the Participle.

a.  The participle as a noun. 

In some instances the participle is used, together with the direct article, as a straight substitute for a noun. Examples are

i)   οἰ τεθνηκότες, the dead (lit. those who have died).  

ii)  οἰ θεώμενοι, spectators (lit. those who are watching).

b. Its use as a noun phrase in Indirect Statement. 

In Greek, verbs of knowing and perceiving are followed by an Accusative and Participle construction rather than the Accusative and Infinitive which follows verbs of saying and thinking. Some examples are shown below:

i) οἶδα αὐτὸν ἀφικόμενον.  I know that he has arrived (lit. I know him having arrived). 

ii) οἶδά σε σώφρονα ὄντα. I know that you are wise (lit. I know you being wise).

iii) ὄψονται τὴν γῆν τεμνομένην.  They will see that their land is being ravaged (lit. They will see their land being ravaged).

iv) ὄψονται τὰ σφέτερα διαφθειρόμενα. They will see that their own property is being destroyed (lit. They will see their own property being destroyed). 

With regard to the Indirect Statement, Greek differs from Latin in that, if the subject of the indirect statement is the same as that of the main verb, it is put into the Nominative rather than the Accusative case. In practice, however, it is not necessary to express the subject of the indirect statement at all, if it is the same as that of the main verb, although the pronoun αὐτός, αὐτή, αὐτό (self) may be used in the Nominative for the purpose of emphasis. This construction is well illustrated by the following sentences: 

i) ᾐσθόμην εἰς κίνδυνον καταστάς.  I perceived that I had got into danger.

ii) οἶδα αὐτὸς μὲν ὀρθῶς γιγνώσκων, ἐκείνους δὲ ἁμαπτάνοντας.  I know that I myself am right, and that they are wrong.

The following verbs of knowing and perceiving take a participle when used in Indirect Statement:

οἶδα                          I know

σύνοιδα ἐμαυτῳ       I am conscious of

ἀγνοέω                     I do not know

γιγνώσκω                 I come to know, I realise, I learn

ὀρθῶς γιγνώσκω      I am right

ἐπίσταμαι                 I understand, I know

συνίημι                     I understand

μανθάνω                   I learn, I understand

μέμνημαι                  I remember, I recall

ἐπιλανθάνομαι         I forget

αἰσθάνομαι              I perceive

ἀκούω                      I hear

ὁράω (aorist: εἶδον) I see

ἀποφαίνω                 I show, I reveal, I prove.

In addition to the above, some verbs which commonly take the Accusative and Infinitive also take the Participle on occasion. These verbs include:

ἀγγέλλω                   I report, I announce

ἀπαγγέλλω               I tell

πυνθάνομαι              I ascertain, I inquire, I learn.

For instance:

Κῦρον ἐπιστρατεύοντα ἤγγειλεν. He announced that Cyrus was marching against (them).

c.  The Participle used as an alternative to an Adjectival or Relative Clause. 

The participle can also be used adjectivally with the definite article to form noun phrases that are translated in English as Relative Clauses with pronominal antecedents. For instance:

i)  οἱ τὴν πατρίδα φιλοῦντες.  Those who love their country. 

ii)  ὁ ταῦτα λέγων.  He who is saying (or was saying) this. 

In such noun phrases, the negative is οὐ, when the sense is definite, and μή, when it is indefinite, e.g.

i)  οἱ οὐ Βουλόμενοι.  Those (particular persons) who do not wish. 

ii)  οἱ μὴ βουλόμενοι.  Whoever do not wish. 

The two illustrations of the participle used as a noun, given in Section 4a. above, are basically examples of this construction as well. 

5.  Adverbial uses of the Participle.

The most common and the most significant function of the participle in Greek is adverbial. Just as a participle is often used in Greek as a means of expressing what in English would be an adjectival or relative clause, so it is available as an alternative to subordinate adverbial clauses. When used in this way, it can be called the Circumstantial Participle, because it expresses the circumstances in which an action takes place, and its use in this way facilitates many different shades of meaning: time, cause, purpose, condition, manner, limitation. When a participle is so used, it is sometimes not clear exactly in what way it is being used. While the participle can be translated in a neutral manner, it is usually preferable for the translator to determine its sense within the context in which it appears. For instance, the words "εἰπὼν ἀπῄει" literally mean, "having spoken, he went away", but they can be translated as either "when he had spoken, he went away", "although he had spoken, he went away", or "as though he had spoken, he went away". This ambiguity can lead to differences in translations of the same piece. However, the various adverbial uses of the circumstantial participle are now considered.

a.  Temporal.

The use of participles as an alternative to a temporal clause is perhaps its commonest adverbial use. When translating into English, 'while' is the conjunction most likely to be used in tandem with a present participle; 'when', 'after', and 'before' are usual with aorist participles: e.g.

i.) οἴκαδε ἐπανελθόντες τὸν πατέρα ἐζήτουν. When they (had) returned home, they looked for their father.

ii) ἐν τοῖς ἀγροῖς μένοντες πολλὰ καὶ κακὰ ἔπασχον.  While (they were) staying in the country, they suffered many terrible things. 

b.  Causal.

When used to describe the cause or the ground of an action, a participle is often, but not always, introduced by "ἅτε" or "οἷον", inasmuch as, to signify the real cause, or by "ὡς", on the grounds that, to signify the alleged cause: e.g.

i) ἅτε πολλὰ καὶ κακὰ παθόντες, τοῖς πολεμίοις ἑαυτοὺς παρέδοσαν.  Because they had suffered many hardships, they surrendered to the enemy.

ii) τὸν Περικλέα ἐν αἰτίᾳ εἶχον ὡς πείσαντα σφᾶς πολεμεῖν.  They blamed Pericles because he had persuaded them to go to war.

c.  Conditional.

The participle may be used as a substitute for a conditional clause, i.e. the protasis of a conditional sentence. "Μή" is always used in the case of a negative condition: e.g.

i)  τοῦτο μὴ ποιοῦντες, οὐκ ἂν εὖ πράττοιεν.  Unless they did this, they would not prosper.

ii) οὐδέποτε μαθήσεται κιθαρίζειν, μὴ μελέτων.  He will never learn to play the lyre, if he does not practise (unless he practises).


d.  Concessive.

A participle is usually preceded by "καί or "καίπερ, although, when it is used concessively: e.g.

i) ἐποικτίρω αὐτὸν καίπερ ἐχθρὸν ὄντα.  I pity him though he is my enemy.

ii) καὶ πολλὰ και κακὰ πάσχοντες, οὐκ εἶξαν. Although they were suffering many hardships, they did not yield.


e.  Final.

The Future Participle is regularly employed in classical Greek to express purpose or intention, and is therefore an alternative to the Final Clause construction of  "ἵνα", in order that, or "ὅπως", in order to, plus the Conjunctive. In such instances the Future Participle may be introduced by the conjunction "ὡς" so as to imply that the participle is expressing the alleged or presumed purpose of the subject of the sentence: e.g.

i) ἦλθον λυσόμενοι τοὺς πολίτας.  They came to ransom the citizens.

ii) ἥκουσιν ὡς ὑμῖν τὰ γενόμενα ἀγγελοῦντες.  They have come to tell you what happened.


f.  Comparative.

Comparative clauses in English, used to express manner, are expressed in Greek by the conjunction "ὤσπερ", as if, as though, with the participle: e.g.

i) οὐκ ἐθέλετ' ἀκούειν, ὥσπερ ᾔδη εἰδότες.  You are unwilling to listen, as if you knew it all already.

ii) ἐχρώμην αὐτῳ ὥσπερ ὄντι καίπερ οὐκ ὄντι ἀδελφῷ.  Though he was not my brother I treated him as if were.


6.  Use of the Participle in the Genitive Absolute.

The Genitive Absolute phrase is used in Greek when the noun which the participle is qualifying has no grammatical relationship to the rest of the sentence in which it is placed, i.e. it is not the subject, the direct object or the indirect object of the main verb. The term "absolute" comes from the Latin word "absolutus", meaning, in this context, detached, separate, or unconnected, i.e. the Genitive Absolute stands as an independent construction with no syntactical relationship to the rest of the sentence. As in the case of the many types of adverbial clauses outlined above, the Genitive Absolute can therefore be translated in English by clauses beginning with a range of subordinating conjunctions, e.g. "when", "while", "as", "since", "because", although", "if". As in the case of its above uses as adverbial clauses, the choice of which introductory word to use must be determined from the sense of the sentence as a whole, but sometimes the presence of a word such as  "καίπερ" makes it clear. Examples are as follows:

a) θάλποντος τοῦ ἡλίου, ὑπο ελάᾳ ἐκάθηντο.  As the sun was hot, they were sitting under an olive- tree.

b) ἡμέρας γενομένης, ὁ πατὴρ τὸν παῖδα ἔπεμψε ζητήσοντα τὰ πρόβατα. When day came (or At daybreak), the father sent his son to look for the sheep.

c)  οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι ἔπλευσαν ἡγεμονεύοντος τοῦ Νικίου.  The Athenians sailed under the leadership of Nicias.

d) ληθέντων τῶν τειχῶν οἱ πολῖται ἐξέφευγον.  When the walls were taken, the citizens tried to escape.

e) ἀποθανόντος τοῦ Κύρου, οἰ στρατιῶται ἔφυγον.  When Cyrus was killed, the soldiers fled.

f) ὁ στρατηγὸς οὐκ ἤθελεν ἐπιτίθεσθαι τοῦ στρατεύματος οὐδένα σῖτον ἔχοντος.  The general did not wish to attack (the enemy) as his army had no food.

g) καίπερ θόρυβον ποιούντων τῶν προβάτων, ὁ αὐτουργὸς οὐκ ἔσπευδεν.  Although the sheep were making a noise, the farmer did not hurry.

h) νυκτὸς γενομένης, ἔδοξεν ἡμῖν ἐν τῷ ἄστει μένειν.  When night came (or At nightfall), we decided to stay in the city.

i) ἑσπέρας γιγνομένησς, οἱ ξένοι εἰς τὸ ἄστυ ἀφίκοντο.  As evening was coming, the strangers arrived in the city.

j) τοῦ ἀνεμοῦ μείζονος γενομενοῦ, ἡ ναῦς, ὀλίγη οὖσα, ἐν κινδυνῳ ἦν.  As the wind was growing stronger, the ship, being small, was in danger.

As indicated by a number of the above examples, it was common in Greek to commence sentences and paragraphs by a genitive absolute relating to the time of day or year, and to the state of the sun, the wind or the sea. Phrases such as "τοῦ ἡλίου ἀνατέλλοντος" (at the rising of the sun or at dawn) and "τοῦ ἡλίου καταδύντος" (the sun having set or at sunset) are common. 

7.  Use of the Participle in the Accusative Absolute.

Impersonal verbs use a participle in the Accusative, expressed in the Neuter Singular, in place of the Genitive. Impersonal verbs most commonly used in this way are: "δοκεῖ", it seems best, "ἔξεστι(ν)", it is possible, it is allowed/ permitted, and "δεῖ", it is necessary, it is a duty: e.g.

a) δόξαν τὸν παῖδα ἐς τὴν ἄγραν πέμψαι, ὁ Κροῖσος μάλιστα ἐφοβεῖτο.  When he had decided (lit. It having seemed best) to send his son to the hunt, Croesus was very afraid. ("δόξαν" is the aorist participle of δοκέω".)

b) ἐξὸν ἐς την ἀγραν ἰέναι. ὁ Ἄτυς εὐθὺς ὁρμᾶται. Permission having been given (lit. It being permitted) to go to the hunt, Atys sets out at once.

c) δέον τὸ θηρίον αἱρειν, ἐς τὸ ὄρος ἔσπευδον.  Since it was necessary (lit. It being necessary) to catch the beast, they hurried to the mountain.

Other Accusative Absolutes used in this way are:

ἀδυνατον ὄν   It being impossible (from "ἀδυνατον ἐστίν", it is impossible)
παρόν             It being possible/ allowed (from "πάρειμι", I am present)
προσηκόν       It being fitting (from "προσήκω", I have arrived, I am near)
παρασχόν       An opportunity offering (aorist participle from "παρέχω", I provide, allow, grant)
εἰρημένον       It having been stated/ laid down (perfect participle of "λέγω", I speak).


8.  Some idiomatic uses of the Participle.

a.  Supplementary participles which extend or limit the meaning of a verb.

Participles are used, like the Prolative infinitive, to carry on the meaning of certain verbs. (The word "prolative" comes from the Latin word "prolatus", the past participle of "proferre", to carry forward or complete [the meaning of the predicate].) Greek verbs that are followed by participles used in this prolative manner are as follows:

τυγχάνω     I happen
παύω          I bring to an end, I stop
παύομαι      I cease, I leave off
λήγω           I cease
ἄρχω           I begin
ἄρχομαι       I begin
διατελέω      I continue, I keep on
αἰσχύνομαι  I am ashamed at
φαίνομαι      I am plainly, I am shown to be , I am proved to be
δῆλος εἰμί    I am clearly
ἀνέχομαι      I endure
περιοράω     I overlook, disregard
χαίρω           I rejoice
ἥδομαι          I am pleased
φθάνω          I anticipate
λανθάνω       I elude the notice of, I remain hidden

Below are some examples of participles being used after these verbs:

i) οὐκ ἀνεχομαι ζῶσα.   I shall not endure to live.

ii) ἔτυχον ὁπλιται ἐν τῇ ἀγορᾷ καθεύδοντες.  Some hoplites happened to be sleeping in the market.

iii) διατελεῖ ὀργιζόμενος.  He continues to be angry.

iv) ἔτυχεν ἐλθών.  He happened to have come.

v) ἔτυχον ἐπὶ τοὺς Πέρσας στρατευόμενοι.  They were just then campaigning against the Persians.

vi) ἐπαύσαντο μαχόμενοι κελεύσαντος τοῦ στρατηγοῦ. They ceased fighting at the general's command.

vii) ἐφάνη σφόδρα αἰσχυνόμενος.  He was plainly very much ashamed.

viii) ἐχαίρομεν πάντες ἀκούσαντές σε ἀσφαλῶς αφικόμενον.  We all rejoiced to hear that you had arrived safely.

ix) τί διατελεῖς ταὐτά με ἐρωτῶν;  Why do you keep on asking me the same questions?

x) οἱ τυχόντες αὐτοῦ ἀκούσαντες σφόδρα ἐθαύμαζον.  Those who chanced to hear him were greatly surprised.

xi) ἐπαύσαντο πολεμοῦντες ἅτε ἀμφοτέρων τῶν στρατηγῶν ἀποθανόντων. They ceased making war because both the generals had been killed.

xii) δῆλοι εἰσιν οἱ πρέσβεις ψευδῆ λέγοντες.  The ambassadors were clearly telling lies.

In the case of some the supplementary participles introduced by the verbs in the above list, the participle sometimes contains the main idea of the predicate, e.g. the participles following "τυγχάνω". In the case of the last two verbs in the above list, "φθάνω, and "λανθάνω", it is usual for the construction of the sentence to be inverted, when translated into English: e.g.

xi)  ἐφθάσααμεν ἐλθόντες εἰς τὴν πόλιν.ἔφθασεν ἡμᾶς ἀφικόμενος. He arrived before us (lit. He anticipated us arriving).

xii) ἐφθάσαμεν ἐλθόντες εἰς τὴν πόλιν.  We reached the city first (lit. We were the first coming to the city).

xiii) ἔλαθεν αυτοὺς φυγών.  He escaped without them seeing him (He eluded their notice escaping).

xiv) αἱ νῆες ἔλαθον τοὺς πολεμίους εἰς τὸν λιμένα εἰσελθοῦσαι.  The ships came into the harbour without being seen by the enemy (lit. The ships escaped the notice of the enemy coming into the harbour).

In a similar manner, the translator may choose to invert a sentence in the case of other verbs (Cf. 8.b. ii. below).

b.  Verbs with different meaning when followed by the infinitive or the participle.

Two verbs, "αἰσχύνομαι" and "φαίνομαι", actually mean different things when followed a) by an infinitive, and b) by a participle.

"αἰσχύνομαι" plus the infinitive means "I am ashamed to do something (and therefore I don't do it), whereas "αἰσχύνομαι" plus the participle means "I am ashamed at doing a thing (which one does do); e.g.

i) αἰσχύνομαι λέγειν.  I am ashamed to say (and therefore I don't).

ii) αἰσχύνομαι λέγων. I say with shame that ...  (and I do).

"φαίνομαι" plus the infinitive means "I appear", whereas "φαίνομαι" plus the participle means "I am plainly, I am shown to be, I am proved to be".

iii) φαίνεται σοφὸς εἶναι. He appears to be wise.

iv) φαίνεται σοφὸς ὤν. He is manifestly (or He is shown to be) wise.

"φαίνομαι" is very often used in an impersonal construction. When "φαίνεται" is followed by the infinitive it is equivalent to "δοκεῖ" or "videtur" in Latin, i.e. "it seems"; when followed by the infinitive it is equivalent to "δῆλον ἐστιν" or "apparet" in Latin, it is manifest, evident, clear, plain, or certain. Thus, in its use with the infinitive "φαίνεται" denotes subjective belief,  whereas in its use with the participle it designates objective certainty. In Platonic dialogues, "φαίνεται" is used to signify "Yes", although it is unclear which of these two states is implied. Perhaps either, according to the context.

c.  Use of the present participle to mean "with".

"ἔχων", the Present Participle Active of "ἔχω", I have, I possess, is frequently used as equivalent to the English preposition, "with" and to the Latin "cum" plus the Ablative. The same participles of "ἄγω", I lead, I bring, and "φέρω", I carry, I bring, are used similarly; e.g.

i) ἀφίκετο ἐχων τριακοσίους ὁπλίτας.  He arrived with three hundred hoplites.

ii) ὤφθη πολλάκις ξίφος ἔχων.  He was often seen with a sword.

iii) ὁ στρατηγὸς προὐχώρει ἄνδρας μυρίους καὶ δισχιλίους ἄγων.  The general advanced with (an army of) eleven thousand men.

iv) οἱ δοῦλοι ἀφίκοντο πολλὰ καὶ καλὰ δῶρα παρὰ τοῦ βασιλέως φέροντες.  The slaves came with many splendid presents from the king.

d.  Use of the participle as as an adverb.

As is the case of adjectives in general, the participle, which is a verbal adjective, is often used as a simple adverb. Examples are as follows:

i) φθάσας ἀφίκετο.  He arrived first.

ii) ἀνύσας ἄνοιγε.  Open quickly.

iii) ἀρχόμενος ἔλεγεν.  He used to say when he began.

iv) λαθὼν ἐποίησε.  He did it secretly.

v) τελευτῶν εἶπε. At last he said.


Conclusion.

This article has sought to demonstrate the central role which the participle plays in classical Greek. The inflexive prolixity of the participle was undoubtedly one reason why it was used so frequently, and the ability of writers to employ it with such precision was linked to this. Once one has become accustomed to the widespread use of the participle in Greek, one begins to appreciate how similar the structure of Greek sentences is to that of our own language, where the use of participial phrases as an alternative to subordinate clauses is so common. In Latin, because of the relative paucity of participial forms, subordinate clauses are perforce more frequent, and where participial phrases are used, many of them involve the Ablative Absolute construction, which is employed much more in Latin than its equivalent, the Genitive Absolute, is in Greek. For an analysis of the "Ablative Absolute", the reader is invited to look at the article so entitled which was published on this blog on 20th May 2012.

VIRGIL: "GEORGICS" BOOK II

Introduction.

Virgil's great work, the "Georgics" includes four books. Of these Sabidius has previously translated Books IV and I (see entries on this blog dated 11 November 2010 and 19 November 2015 respectively), and there is a fairly full introduction to the work as a whole at the beginning of the entry relating to Book IV, to which the reader is now referred. As that introduction explains, the content of Book II concentrates on the growing of trees, mainly vines and olives. 

Central to Book II is the business of planting, and in addressing this subject, Virgil details all the various methods of raising trees, describes their variety, and sets out rules for the management of each one. He then delineates the soils in which the different species most thrive. After an excursus in which he expatiates on the beauty of his homeland of Italy, he gives some directions on how best to identify the nature of each type of soil, he prescribes rules for dressing vines, olives and other plants, and concludes the book with a panegyric on the virtues of country life. 

Any translation of the "Georgics" is inevitably a fairly challenging experience, requiring as it does some knowledge of agricultural processes in general, and of the particular subjects of each of the four books in particular, but also some knowledge of the Romans' understanding of these matters, which relate after all to a time over two thousand years before the present day. At the same time, the translator has to grapple with the issues which arise whenever a piece of Latin verse is being read, namely where the order of the words, and, indeed the very words themselves and how they are connected, are adapted to meet the taxing requirements of the meter - in this case the dactylic hexameter, in which all of Virgil's poems are written. This means, for instance, that the particular word which might have best fitted what the poet was seeking to say might have been problematic in metrical terms, and so another word had to be adopted. When one considers that many Latin words can be rendered in English by a number of words often meaning very different things, it is often difficult to be sure just what Virgil is seeking to say, and quite often a phrase or indeed a passage is open to more than one interpretation. On top of such ambiguities is the way in which poetry as a medium is often used to create impressions or sensations rather than to make precise statements, and, at the same time, the figurative use of particular words, rather than their literal meaning, is natural to the composition of verse. All this helps to make the translation of "The Georgics" a demanding, albeit a rewarding, task. A number of the English translations that are currently in existence are in verse themselves, and the use of English verse as the medium of translation of a piece of Latin verse increases the possibility that such translation will involve creative rather than accurate transmission of meaning; indeed, there is a very real danger that such translation will deteriorate on occasion into something close to gibberish. In the following translation, as in the earlier ones of other books of the "Georgics", Sabidius seeks to keep as close as possible to the structure of Virgil's sentences, and to the actual words which Virgil has employed, while at the same time using English, which is demonstrably clear, and which makes sense within the context of the poem as a whole. 

The text for this translation is taken from "Virgil: The Georgics: A Poem of the Land," translated and edited by Kimberley Johnson, (Penguin, 2009), and Sabidius has made particular use of two prose translations, by Benjamin Apthorp (1826) and J.W. Mackail (1934).  

Ll. 1-8.  Invocation to Bacchus.

Thus far (my song has been about) the cultivation of the fields and the stars of heaven; now I will sing of you, (O) Bacchus, and with you, of woodland shrubs and the fruit of the slow-growing olive. (Hasten) hither, O Lenaeus (i.e. Bacchus) - here all things (are) full of your bounties, for you the earth blooms, pregnant with vine-leafed autumn, (and) the vintage foams in brimming vats - come hither, O father Lenaeus, and, having removed your buskins, soak your bared legs with me in the fresh must (i.e. unfermented wine). 

Ll. 9-38.  Variety, especially as regards trees. 

In the first place, nature is versatile at propagating trees. For some sprout spontaneously themselves with no one compelling (them), and occupy the plains and winding rivers far and wide, like the pliant brook-willow and the hardy brooms, the poplar and the willow-groves glimmering with silvery leaves. And some spring from fallen seed, like the lofty chestnuts and the durmast oak (i.e. the Italian oak with edible acorns) which has the greatest foliage in Jupiter's forest, and the oaks considered by the Greeks (to be) oracular; so too the Parnessian (i.e. sacred to the Muses) laurel, tiny beneath its mother's vast shade, thrusts itself up. These methods nature first supplied, (and) from these flourishes every kind of tree and shrub and sacred grove. There are other (techniques) which practice itself has discovered along its way. One man, tearing shoots from the tender frame of the mother-tree, plants (them) in furrows; another man buries the stems, and stakes split into four parts, and pales of sharpened hard-wood in the ground; some trees await the bent boughs of a layer and slips alive in their own soil; others need no root, and the pruner does not hesitate to return and commit the highest tree-top (shoots) to the earth. Nay, even when its trunks have been cut - marvellous to relate - , an olive root is pushed out from dry wood. And often we see branches of one kind (of tree) turn into (those) of another without any loss, and a pear-tree transformed to bear implanted apples and stony cornels blushing on plum-trees.

So, come, O farmers, (and) learn the care peculiar to each species, and tame the wild fruits by cultivation, lest the earth lies idle. It is delightful to sow Ismarus (i.e. a mountain in Thrace near the coast of the Aegean) with vines, and to clothe great Tabernus (i.e. a mountain in the Apennines in central Italy) with olives.

Ll. 39-46.  Invocation to Maecenas.

Be you at hand, and traverse together (with me) this (voyage of) toil which I have begun, O Maecenas, my pride, O (you who are) deservedly the greatest part of my fame, set sail (with me) and fly over the open sea; I cannot hope to encompass everything with my verses, not if a hundred tongues and a hundred mouths, (and) an iron voice were mine; be you at hand and coast along the shore of the nearer coast-line. Land (is) in our grasp; I shall not detain you here with feigned song and by circumlocutions and tedious preambles.

Ll. 47-135.  Variety, especially as regards trees (continued).

Trees lift themselves of their own accord into the realms of light, fruitless indeed, but they spring up fair and strong; as you see, nature lurks withing the soil. And yet even these, should one ingraft (them), or, having transplanted (them), put (them) into trenches, they will discard their woodland spirit, and through frequent cultivation they will readily follow whatever course you desire. And indeed the barren (shaft) which issues from the bottom of the trunk shall do this too, if it is spread through the empty fields; now the tree-mother's towering foliage and boughs overshadow (it), and deprives (it) of fruit as it grows, and blasts its yield. Now, the tree which rears itself from fallen seed grows slowly, destined to give shade to late-born descendants, and its fruit degenerates, forgetting its former flavour, and the grape-vine bears sorry clusters, a prey for the birds. Labour must, of course, be devoted to all, and all must be forced into furrows and tamed at great cost. But olives respond better to trunks, and vines to a layer, and Paphian (i.e. from Paphos, a town in Cyprus considered to be the birthplace of Venus) myrtle from hard-wood; from shoots are born both hardy hazels and the huge ash-tree that provided Hercules' crown and the acorns of the Chaonian father (i.e. Jupiter, to whom an oracle was dedicated at Dodona in Chaonia in North-Western Greece), and also springs the tall palm-tree and the fir destined to see the dangers of the deep. But the rough arbutus, with its walnut fruit, is grafted, and barren plane-trees bear robust apples; the beech whitens with the white of chestnuts and the ash with pear blossoms, and pigs crunch acorns under elm-trees.

Nor (is there) a single method of grafting and implanting buds. For where the buds push themselves out from the midst of the bark, and burst their delicate husks, a narrow slit is made in the knot itself: here they insert an offshoot from some strange tree, and train (it) to grow in the succulent inner bark. Or, otherwise, knotless trunks are split and an opening is cleft with wedges deep into the solid (grain), (and) then fertile shoots are set therein: no long time (passes), and a huge tree with teeming branches shoots up to heaven, and wonders at its fresh leaves and the fruit not its own.

Moreover, (there is) not one kind of sturdy elm, nor of willow and lotus, nor of Idaean cypress, nor do fat olives, (oval) orchas olives, long olives and bitter-berried pausian olives spring up in one form, nor (do) the apples and trees of Alcinous (i.e. the mythical king of Phaeacia, renowned for his gardens), nor (are) are the cuttings of Crustumian (i.e. from Crustumerium, an ancient city in the west of Italy, renowned for its pears) and Syrian pears and heavy large pears alike. Nor does the same vintage hang down from our trees as Lesbos plucks from Methymna's (i.e. from a town on the island of Lesbos in the Aegean) vine-sprouts. There are Thasian vines and there are white Mareotids (i.e. from Mareotis, a lake south of Alexandria), the former suitable for rich soil and the latter for lighter (soil), and (there are) Psithian, more fit for raisin-wine, and thin Lagean, which will one day try the feet and tie the tongue, purples and early-ripeners, and by what song shall I sing your (praise) (O) Rhaetic? So, do not compete with Falernian wine-cellars! There are also Aminnean vines (i.e. a type of grape-vine grown in Campania), a full-bodied wine, to which Tmolius (i.e. a mountain in Lydia) and king Phanaeus himself bows the knee, and the lesser Argitis (i.e. a species of white-wine), with whom no grape can vie, either for its great abundance or for enduring for so many years. Nor can I pass you over, (O) Rhodian, (you who are) welcomed by the Gods and at second courses, nor (you), Bumast, with your swollen clusters. But no (one knows) how many kinds (of wine there are), nor what their names are, (nor what) is their number; for it does not matter what their number is; (he) who wants to know it, would likewise want to learn how many grains of sand are tossed by the West Wind across the Libyan plain, or to know how many Ionian waves reach the shore, when the East Wind falls with fury upon our ships.

Nor, indeed, can all soils bear everything. Willows grow by rivers, alders in thick marshlands, and barren ash-trees on rocky mountains; the shores rejoice most in myrtles; lastly, Bacchus (i.e. the grape-vine) loves exposed hillsides, and yews the cold North Wind. Look, also, at the world, tamed by ploughmen even at its remotest spots, and the Eastern homes of Arabs and tattooed Geloni (i.e. a Scythian tribe from what is now South Russia): countries are distinguished by their trees. India alone produces black ebony, only the Sabaeans (i.e. the inhabitants of South-West Arabia, now Yemen) have sprigs of frankincense. Why should I tell you of balsams dripping from fragrant wood and of the berries of the acanthus? Why (should I tell you of) the groves of the Ethiopians, white with downy wool, and how the Chinese comb their fine fleeces from leaves, or of the jungles which India, that corner at the edge of the world, breeds nearer to the ocean, where no arrows in flight can surmount the air at the top of a tree? And, in fact, that nation (is) not backward when it has taken up its quivers. Media produces the bitter juices and the lingering taste of the blessed citron, than which no aid comes in a more timely manner, whenever cruel step-mothers have drugged the cups and mixed herbs and poisonous spells, and it drives the deadly poison from the limbs. The tree itself is large and similar in appearance to a laurel; and, if it had not wafted abroad a different scent, a laurel it would have been; its leaves do not fall in any winds; its blossom is especially tenacious; with it the Medes treat (bad) breath and stinking mouths, and cure asthmatic old men.

Ll. 136-176.  Eulogy of Italy. 

But neither the land of the Medes, most rich in forests, nor the fair Ganges and the Hermus (i.e. a river in Lydia) flecked with gold can vie with Italy for praise, nor Bactria nor India, nor all Panchaia (i.e. a legendary oasis), rich in incense-bearing sands. No bulls, breathing fire from their nostrils, have sufficiently ploughed up this place with huge dragon's teeth, nor has a cornfield (ever) bristled with the helmets and serried spears of warriors; but full harvests and Bacchus' Massic fluid fill (this land), and olives and teeming flocks occupy (it). Hence, the high-stepping war-horse struts about on the plain; hence, your white flocks, Clitumnus (i.e. a river in Umbria), and the bull, that noblest of victims, bathed in your sacred stream, have often conducted Roman triumphs to the temples of the gods. Here spring (is) perpetual and summer (is) in months other than her own. Twice (a year) the cattle (are) pregnant, (and) twice (a year) the tree (is) fit for fruit. But ravenous tigresses and the savage brood of lions are absent, nor does wolfsbane deceive its wretched pickers, nor does the scaly snake sweep his immense loops along the ground, nor rear himself up by drawing so tightly into a coil. Add so many remarkable cities, the achievement of toil, and so many towns piled up on steep rocks, and rivers gliding beneath their ancient walls. Or should I tell of the sea which washes her upper and lower (shores), or of her great lakes? Of you, mightiest Larius (i.e. Lake Como), and you, Benacus (i.e. Lake Garda), heaving with waves and the roar of the sea, or should I tell of her harbours and the dam placed on the Lucrine  (i.e. a lake in Campania, near Naples, connected to Lake Avernus by a canal constructed by Agrippa in 37 B.C.) and of the indignant sea with its great hissing noises, where the Julian wave resounds far and wide as the sea is flung back, and the Tyrrhenian (i.e. the sea off the western coast) tide is launched into the channels of Avernus (i.e. Lake Avernus, a crater lake in Campania, and the supposed location of an entrance to the Underworld) channels. Likewise, she displays in her veins streams of silver and mines of copper, and has flowed abundantly with gold. She has brought forth a valiant race of men, the Marsians and the Sabine youth, and the Ligurian inured to hardship, and the Volscians, armed with javelins, (and) she (has brought forth) the Decii, the Marii, and the mighty Camilli, the offspring of Scipio, stern in war, and you, Caesar (i.e. Octavian), the greatest of all, who, already victorious on the farthest shores of Asia, now diverts the unwarlike Indian from the towers of Rome. Hail, mighty mother of harvests, (O) land of Saturn, mighty in men; for you, I take up the themes and craft of ancient praise, daring to open up these sacred springs, and I sing the song of Ascra (i.e. a town in Northern Greece and the birthplace of Hesiod, the author of 'Works and Days') throughout the towns of Rome.

Ll. 177-258.  Variety, especially as regards trees (continued).

Now (is) a passage on the characteristics of (various) soils: what is the strength of each one, what (is) its colour, and what is its capacity for for bearing produce. Firstly, unyielding soils and unfruitful hills, where the lean clay and the pebbles in the thorny fields delight in the Palladian (i.e. of the goddess Minerva, who was reputed to have invented the olive) grove of the long-lived olive. As an indication, there is, in this same tract of land, the wild olive, springing up abundantly, and fields strewn with woodland berries. But ground which (is) rich and luxuriating in sweet moisture, and a plain which (is) thick with herbage and prolific in fruitfulness - such as we are often accustomed to look down upon in the hollow valley of a mountain; hither streams trickle from high rocks and draw down their fruitful mud - and which is raised in the south and nourishes the fern, (so) hateful to the crooked plough. This (soil) will, one day, provide you with vines of superior strength and abounding with much wine, this (soil will be) prolific of grapes and of juice, such as we pour forth in cups of gold, when the fat Etruscan has blown his ivory (horn) at the altars, and we offer up the smoking entrails in curved platters. But if (he is) keener to preserve herds (of cattle) and calves, or the offspring of sheep and goats that despoil plantations, let him seek the lawns and faraway (glades) of lush Tarentum, and a plain such as hapless Mantua has lost, feeding snow-white swans in the grassy stream. (There) neither limpid springs nor pastures will be lacking to the flocks; and as much (grass) as the herds will pluck in the long days, so much will the cool dew of a short night restore.

Earth (that is) almost black and rich under the deep-driving ploughshare, and whose soil (is) crumbling - for we imitate this by ploughing - , (is) best for corn; from no (other) plain will you see more wagons going homeward with slow-moving oxen; or from where the angry ploughman has borne away a wood and has felled copses that have lain inactive for many a year, and has grubbed up the ancient habitations of birds from their lowest roots; abandoning their nests, they make for the sky, but the unworked field gleams beneath the driven ploughshare. For the barren gravel of the hilly countryside scarcely furnishes the humble cinnamon and rosemary for the bees; and its rough tufa and chalk, gnawed away by black water-snakes, say that no other lands (are) their like in bringing sweet sustenance to serpents, and affording (them) winding retreats. (That land) which exhales thin mist and flitting smoke, and imbibes moisture and emits (it) from itself whenever it wishes, and which always clothes itself in its own green grass, and does not gall the metal with scurf and salty rust, that (land) will entwine your elms with joyous vines, that (land) is productive of oil, (and) you will experience that (land) in cultivating (it), (being) both supportive of cattle and submissive to the crooked ploughshare. Such (soil) rich Capua tills, and also the coast that borders Mount Vesuvius, and (the banks of) the Clanius (i.e. a river in Campania, prone to flooding), unjust to deserted Acerrae (i.e. a town in Campania).

Now, I shall tell (you) by what means you can distinguish each (type of soil). If you were to ask (whether) it is loose or unusually thick - since one is right for corn, the other for wine, for Ceres (where it is) thicker, and for Lyaeus (i.e. Bacchus) where (it is) most loose - first you should choose a spot with your eye, and (there) order a pit to be dug deep in the ground, and then return all the earth (to its place), and flatten the sand at the top with your feet. If earth is lacking, the soil will be loose, and more fit for cattle and fruitful vines; but if it denies that it can return to its place and earth lies on the top after the trenches have been refilled, the ground (will be) compact; expect sticky clods and lumpy ridges, and plough up the ground with sturdy bullocks. But salty ground, and what is called bitter, (as it is) unfruitful for crops - it is nether softened by ploughing, nor does it maintain its class in the case of wine or their names in the case of apples - will give such a specimen (as this): pluck down from the smoky rafters stout wicker baskets and the strainers for your wine-presses. Hither let that vicious soil and sweet water from the springs be trampled to the full; for sure, all the water will be strained, and big drops will pass through the twigs; but the taste will plainly give an indication, and distort the displeased faces of the tasters by its bitter sensation. Likewise, we learn what is rich soil briefly in this way: when squeezed by the hand, it never crumbles,  but, when handled, it sticks to the fingers like pitch. Moist (soil) produces bigger vegetables, and (is) itself duly luxuriant. Ah, may that (soil) of mine not prove too fertile, nor show itself too strong when the first ears of corn (appear)! (Soil) which is heavy tacitly betrays itself by its very weight. It is easy for the eyes to discern black (soil) at once, and what is the colour of each. But it is difficult to seek out the accursed cold: only pitch-pines and noxious yew-trees or dark ivies sometime reveal its traces.

Ll. 259-457.  Care of trees, especially vines. 

In observing these (rules), remember to bake the soil long beforehand, to cut through the spacious hillsides with trenches, (and) to expose the upturned clods to the North Wind, before you plant the glad stock of the vine. Fields with crumbling soil (are) the best: the winds and the cold frost, and the sturdy digger, shaking and stirring up his acres, take care of this. But if (there are) men whom no vigilance escapes, they look first for a kindred (piece of) ground, where the first nursery may be provided for their trees, and to which they may soon be brought and planted in rows, lest the seedlings reject the sudden shift of their mother (soil). Indeed, they even mark on the bark the quarter of the sky, so that, in whatever manner each stood, on whatever side it bore the southern heats, and wherever it turned its back to the North Pole, they may return (to the same position): so strong is the force of habit in their tender (years). Ask yourself first (whether) it is better to plant your vineyard on the hills or on a plain. If you lay out (your seeds) on the fields of a rich plain, plant (them) thickly; the vine (is) not less active in thick soil; but if you (lay out your seeds on) rising ground with mounds and sloping hillsides, give space to your rows, so that, where the trees have been planted, each path may be set perfectly square with the track cut across (it). As often in mighty war, when the extended legion has deployed its cohorts, and the column has stood firm on the open plain, and the battle-line has been put in place, and the whole earth swells with sparkling brass, nor yet have they joined in grim battle, but Mars wanders, wavering, in the midst of their arms; (so) may every one of your paths be measured in equal proportions; (this is) not only so that the prospect may feed a vacant mind, but (rather) because earth will not otherwise supply equal strength to everyone, nor will the branches be able to spread themselves into empty (space).

Perhaps too, you may ask what depths your trenches should have. I would even venture to commit my vine to a shallow furrow. A tree, on the other hand, is sunk much more deeply into the ground, especially the durmast oak, which, as much (it aims for) the heavenly breezes with its top, it aims for Tartarus with its roots. So, no wintry storms, no blasts of wind, nor heavy rainfall can overthrow it; it remains immovable, and seeing many generations of men roll by, it outlasts by its endurance many ages. Then, spreading out widely its boughs and branches hither (and) thither, it sustains in the midst of itself an enormous shade.

Do not let your vineyards slope towards the setting sun, nor plant hazel between your vines, neither gather the topmost shoots (for cuttings), nor tear your slips from the top of the tree - such (is) their love of the earth - , neither damage your seedlings with a blunted blade, nor plant (them) among the trunks of the wild olive: for often a spark of fire falls from unwary shepherds, which, lurking secretly under the resinous bark at first, catches hold of the solid wood, and, darting out into the topmost foliage, dispatches a loud sound to the heavens; thence, pursuing (its way), it reigns victorious among the branches and the lofty tops, and involves the whole wood in flames, and propels the black cloud up to the sky enveloped in a pitchy vapour, especially if an overhead storm broods over the woods, and the driving wind fans the fires. When this (happens), (the trees) have no strength from their roots (upwards),  and, although lopped, they can(not) recover and grow up again in a similar form from the depth of the earth; (only) the unfavoured wild olive, with its bitter leaves, survives.

Do not let any counsellor be so wise in your eyes as to persuade (you) to disturb the hardened ground, when the North Wind is blowing. Then, winter shuts up the fields with frost, and, although the seedling has been planted, it does not allow the frozen root to affix (itself) in the ground. Planting of the vineyard (is) best, when, in the blushing spring, the white bird, hateful to long snakes, has come, or hard upon the first frosts of autumn, when the impetuous sun has not yet reached winter with his steeds, (although) summer has already passed. Spring (is) very (beneficial) to the foliage of the groves, spring (is very) beneficial to the woodlands; in the spring the soil yearns, and cries out, for the life-generating seed. Then, the almighty father Aether descends in fructifying showers on to the bosom of his joyous spouse, and, mingling with her great body, he nourishes her brood with his great (power).  Then, the lonely thickets resound with tuneful birds, and on the days appointed the herds renew their love; (then,) the fruitful earth is in labour, and the fields extend their bosoms to the warm breezes of the West Wind; a gentle moisture abounds in everything; and the grasses dare to entrust themselves in safety to the fresh suns, nor does the vine-leaf fear the rising south winds or the rain-shower precipitated from the sky by the violent north winds, but puts forth its buds and unfolds all its leaves. I do not think that any other days had shone at the first dawn of the rising world, or had held another course: it was springtime, the wide world celebrated the spring, and the East Winds refrained from their wintry blasts, when the first beasts drank in the light (of day), and the earthy race of man raised its head from the hard fields, and wild beasts were let loose in the woods and stars in the sky. Nor could these frail creatures endure this toil, unless so great a (period of) rest came between the cold and the heat, and the indulgence of the sky spared the earth.

What is left, whatever cuttings you plant across the fields, spread rich dung (over them), and carefully cover (them) with much earth, and bury (within it) spongy stone or rough shells; for between (them), the rain will trickle and and a thin vapour creep, and the crops will raise their spirits; and, indeed, (some are) found who press hard (on the earth) from above with a stone and a great potsherd; this (is) a defence against the rains, this (is a defence) when the sultry heat splits open the gaping fields with drought.

When your seedlings have been planted, it remains to break up the earth around their heads quite often, and swing the sturdy hoes, and to work the soil under the driven ploughshare, and wheel your straining bullocks between the very rows of vines; then, to fit smooth stalks and shafts of peeled rods, stakes of ash-wood and sturdy fork-shaped poles (to the vines); by the strength of these (things), may they become accustomed to climb, to scorn the winds, and to follow from stage to stage through the tops of the elms.

And, while their early age sprouts with fresh leaves, you must spare the tender (vines), and, while the joyous vine-sprout raises itself to the sky, having been launched through the clean (air) with loose reins, the sharp edge of the pruning knife itself must not yet be applied, but the leaves should be plucked by bent-back hands and clipped here and there. Thereafter, when they have now shot up, embracing the elms with their strong stems, then prune their leaves and lop their branches - before (this) they shrink from steel - , then exercise severe dominion (over them) and check their straggling boughs.

Fences, too, should be woven (around them), and all cattle must be restrained, especially while the foliage (is) tender and unaware of hardships; besides the severe winters and the overpowering sun, the wild buffaloes and the pursuing goats continually abuse (it), (and) sheep and hungry heifers are put out to graze (on it). Nor do the chills (of winter), compounded by hoar-frost, or the severe heat (of the sun) beating down upon the scorched rocks, damage (it) so much as the flocks and the poison of their hard teeth and the scar impressed (by them) on the bitten stem. For no other offence is the goat sacrificed to Bacchus on every altar, and ancient plays go on to the stage, and (for this) the sons of Theseus (i.e. the Athenians) set aside prizes for wit around the villages and crossroads, and, joyful amidst their cups, danced on goatskins smeared (with oil). (For this reason) also the Ausonian colonists (i.e. primitive Italians from Campania) a race derived from Troy, sport in uncouth strains and with uncontrolled laughter, and put on dreadful masks of hallowed bark, and invoke you, (O) Bacchus, in joyful songs, and hang waxen effigies of you from a lofty pine-tree. Hence, every vineyard ripens with abundant produce, and hollow dells and deep lawns, and wherever the god has turned his comely head, are filled (with plenty). Therefore, shall we duly ascribe his honours to Bacchus in our native songs, and offer (him) platters and sacred cakes, and the sacrificial goat, led by the horn, will stand at the altar, and we shall roast his fat entrails on spits of hazel-wood.

There is also that other task in dressing vines, on which it is never (possible) to exhaust one's efforts sufficiently: for the whole soil must be ploughed up three or four times every year and the clods must be regularly broken up by inverted mattocks, (and) the whole grove must be relieved of foliage. Going round in a circle, his labour returns to the farmer, and the year revolves (back) on itself over its own tracks. And now, when once the vineyard has shed its lingering leaves, and the cold north wind has shaken the beauty from the woods, even then the eager countryman extends his care into the coming year, and pursues the desolate vine, trimming (it) with the crooked tooth of Saturn (i.e. the scythe, or pruning hook, the symbol of Saturn), and he shapes (it) by pruning. Let him be the first to dig the ground, let him be the first to carry home and burn the brushwood, and let him be the first to bring the stakes back under his roof; may he be the last to reap (the vintage). Twice the shade (of leaves) assails the vines, twice weeds cover the corn-fields with their dense thorns; both (these things require) hard labour: let him commend large farms, (but) let him cultivate a small (one). And besides, the rough twigs of butcher's broom throughout the wood, and the watery reed on the river-banks, are cut, and the care of the uncultivated willow keeps (him) busy. Now, the vines (are) tied, now the vineyards lay aside the pruning hook, now the last vine-dresser celebrates with song his finished rows: yet, (still) must the earth be stirred, and the dust disturbed, and now must Jupiter (i.e. the weather) be dreaded by the ripened grapes.

On the other hand, olives have no (need of) any close tending; nor do they await the sickle-shaped pruning-hook and the tenacious mattocks, when once they have stuck in the soil and borne the breezes; earth, herself, supplies enough moisture, when laid open by the hooked fang, and heavy fruits, when (laid open) by the ploughshare. Thus do I nourish the rich and peace-loving olive.

The fruit trees, too, as soon as they have felt their vigorous trunks and have acquired their strength, shoot up swiftly to the sky by their own force, and without the need of our assistance. In the meantime, in the same way the whole woodland grows heavy with produce, and the untamed haunts of birds glow with blood-red berries. The clover is grazed on (by cattle), the high forest supplies torches, and at night the fires are fed and their light shed (on us). And (still) men hesitate to sow (crops) and to bestow their care (on them). Why should I pursue grander themes? - willows and lowly brooms, (even) they provide either leafage for cattle or shade for shepherds, and a hedge for the crops and food for honey - and it is delightful to behold Cytorus (i.e. a mountain in Paphlagonia in Asia Minor) waving with box, and groves of Narycian (i.e. of Naryx, a region in southern Italy settled by Greeks) pitch, and to see fields not indebted to mattocks or the care of man. Even the barren woods on the top of the Caucasus (i.e. the mountain range which joins the Black Sea to the Caspian), which the sharp East Winds are constantly ripping into and plundering, each (one) yields different produce, pines yield wood suitable for ships, cedars and cypresses (yield wood suitable) for houses. From this source, farmers have fashioned spokes for their wheels, and wheel-drums for their wagons, and they have made curved keels for their boats. Willows are fertile in twigs, elms in leaves (for cattle-food), and myrtle (is) good for stout spear-shafts, and the cornel-cherry-tree for war, while yews are bent into Ituraean (i.e. Parthian) bows. In the same way, smooth-grained lime-trees, or box polished by the lathe, receive their shape, and are hollowed out by sharp steel. Thus too, the light alder, launched on the Po, swims on the rushing stream; thus too, bees hide their swarms in the hollow bark and in the core of a rotten holm-oak. What have the gifts of Bacchus bestowed (which is so) worthy to be equally recorded? Bacchus has also given reasons for blame; he (it was who) quelled by death the raging Centaurs, Rhoetus, and Pholus, and Hylaeus, (who) threatened the Lapiths with a huge mixing-bowl.

Ll. 458-540.  Eulogy of country life.  

O exceedingly fortunate farmers, if they did but know their own good fortune! On them, far from the clash of arms, earth, herself most just, pours from her bosom their easy sustenance. (What) if no lofty mansion with proud gates belches forth a vast tide of morning callers from all her halls, neither do they gape (in admiration) at the various door-posts (inlaid) with lovely tortoise-shells, and robes decked out with gold, and Ephyreian (i.e. Corinthian) bronze (jars), nor is their white wool dyed with an Assyrian drug, or is their use of liquid olive tainted by cinnamon; but their peace (is) untroubled, and their life does not know how to deceive, (but is) rich in various (kinds of) wealth, and the peace of broad estates - caverns and living lakes and cool Tempe (i.e. a scenic valley between Mounts Olympus and Ossa in North-West Greece), and the lowing of oxen and soft slumber under a tree - (are) not missing; there (there are) lawns, and dens for beasts (of the chase), and youth inured to toil and accustomed to thrift, worship of the gods and fathers held in veneration; among them justice set her last footprints as she departed from the earth.

But may the sweet Muses, whose sacred (symbols) I bear, being smitten with violent love, receive me first before all (other) things, and may they show (me) the pathways of the sky and the stars, the various eclipses of the sun and the travails of the moon; whence (comes) the trembling of the earth (i.e. earthquakes), by what force the seas swell high, bursting their flood-barriers and subsiding into themselves once more, why the winter suns make such haste to dip themselves in the ocean, or what hindrance obstruct the lingering nights. But if the cold blood around my heart stands in my way, so that I cannot penetrate these aspects of nature, may the countryside and the streams in the valleys abounding in water delight me, (and,) unsung, may I court the rivers and the forests. O (that I might be) where (are) the plains (of Thessaly), and the (river) Spercheus, and (Mount) Taygetus, on which Spartan maidens are revelling! O, (for the man) who shall set me down in the cool valleys of the (river) Haemus, and shelter (me) with a thick shade of boughs! Happy (is he) who can understand the causes of things, and has cast all fears and inexorable fate and the sound of ravenous Acheron under his feet. Blessed too (is) he who has got to know the rustic deities, Pan and old Silvanus, and their sisters, the Nymphs: neither the rods of public (office), nor the purple of kings, and the discord of faithless brothers, or the Dacian descending from the conspiring Danube, nor Roman revolutions and kingdoms on the verge of destruction, sway him; he neither grieves as he pities the poor, nor does he envy the rich. What fruits the boughs, what (fruits) the very fields, graciously produce of their own accord, (these) he plucks; (but) the iron laws and the maddened Forum, or the archives of the people, (these) he has not seen. Some stir up uncharted seas with oars, and (others) rush to arms, (and) penetrate the court-yards and the thresholds of kings; one (man) destines a city and its wretched homes to destruction, so that he may imbibe jewels and sleep on Tyrian purple; another hoards his wealth, and broods over gold; one (man) is stupefied, astonished at the (eloquence of the) rostra; the applause across the rows of the theatre - for (it is) redoubled among both the populace and the senators - carries off another gaping (in admiration); drenched in the blood of their brothers, they exult, and exchange their homes and sweet thresholds for exile, and they seek a homeland lying under a different sun. The farmer cleaves the earth with a crooked plough: thus (comes) the annual work-programme, thus he sustains his native-land and his little grandchildren, and his herds of of oxen and trusty bullocks. Nor (is there any) respite, but the year abounds in fruit and in the brood of the flocks, or in the sheaf of corn stalks, and it loads the furrows and overwhelms the granaries with produce.

Winter comes: the Sicyonian (i.e. of Sicyon, a town in the Peloponnese) berry is crushed in the olive-press, the hogs return brimful of acorns, and the forests yield their arbutes (i.e. wild fruits); and autumn sheds its varied produce, and, high up on the sunny rocks, the mellow vintage is ripened. Meanwhile, sweet children hang about his lips, and their chaste home keeps its purity, cows droop udders full of milk, and fat kids fight among themselves with opposing horn on the shining sward. (The farmer,) himself, celebrates festal days, stretched out on the grass, where (there is) a fire in the midst, and his companions are crowning the mixing-bowl, and he invokes you, (O) Lenaeus, as he offers a libation, and for the keepers of the flock he sets up on an elm-tree contests of the swift(-flying) javelin, and they bare their hardy bodies for the wrestling match. This life the ancient Sabines once cultivated, as did Remus and his brother (i.e. Romulus), thus Etruria grew strong, and, of course, Rome has become the fairest of places. and has enclosed her seven citadels with a single (city) wall. Even before the rule of that Dictaean king (i.e. Jupiter, who was born at Mount Dicte on the island of Crete), and before the impious race (of men) feasted on slaughtered bullocks, golden Saturn led such a life on earth; nor yet indeed had (men) heard the war-trumpets blown, nor yet (had they heard) the swords clanking as they were laid on the hard anvils.

Ll. 541-542.  Epilogue. 

But we have travelled (across) a plain immense in its extent, and now the time (has come) to unharness our horses' smoking necks.

THE NATURE AND USE OF THE PERFECT TENSE IN ANCIENT GREEK

1) Introduction:

This article explains the use of the Greek Perfect tense within the structure of Greek tense forms in general, and indicates how the Greek Perfect differs from the Latin Perfect tense.

2) Tense forms:

In both classical languages, and indeed in English, verb tense systems provide a combination of two dimensions: a) they indicate the time of the action which the verb describes, i.e. whether it is past, present or future time - in relation to time, verbs are either primary (present and future) or secondary/ historic (past); and b) the kind of action which has occurred, i.e. its nature or character - whether it is momentary or continuing, and whether it is completed or incomplete. The second of these dimensions in Greek grammar is known as 'Aspect', i.e. how the action of the verb is viewed. The name comes from the Latin verb "aspicio", I catch sight of, I look at. While in Latin the tense of a verb is most important, in Greek Aspect takes priority. For comprehensive details of the overall tense system, readers are referred to the article, "The Tense of Verbs; a suggested structure," published on this blogspot on 23rd November 2010. The rest of this article concentrates on Aspect and the Perfect tense.

3) Aspect:

In Greek verbs are differentiated into three Aspects:

i) The Progressive (or Imperfective), where the action is viewed as a continuing process, and thus incomplete, e.g. οἱ φύλακες τὰς πύλας κλείουσιν. (The guards are shutting the gates.)

ii) The Aorist, where the action is viewed as a simple event or fact, e.g. οἱ φύλακες τὰς πύλας ἔκλεισαν. (The guards shut the gates). Aorist means "indefinite" and comes from the Greek word "ἀόριστος" (unlimited). In the case of the Aorist Aspect, the action is considered incomplete, but only in the sense that it is happening at a particular moment in time and it is unclear whether it is continuing or will be repeated, or not. 

iii) The Perfective, where the action is seen as a state, and thus completed but with its result continuing, e.g. οἱ φύλακες τὰς πύλας κέκλεινται. (The gates have been shut.) The verb in this case is in the Perfect tense. The name comes from the Latin verb "perficio", (I finish, or I complete). However, in English Greek Perfects are often best translated by the Present tense, i.e. in the case of this example, "The gates are shut." (For further examples, see section 6  below.) 

4) The Perfect tense in Greek. 

The Perfect (or Present Perfective) tense in Greek denotes or records an enduring state or condition in present time which is the consequence of an action completed in the past. Most Greek verbs form their Perfect tense by "reduplication", i.e. repetition of the first consonant of the stem of their first syllable, and add "-κα" or "-α" to the stem. So the Perfect Active form of the paradigmatic verb "λύω", I loosen, I free, is "λελύκα", its infinitive is "λελυκέναι", and its participle is "λελυκώς, λελυκυῖα, λελυκός". The Perfect Middle or Passive of "λύω" also requires reduplication and has the ending "-μαι"; e.g."λέλυμαι", I ransom (Middle), I am freed (Passive), with an infinitive " λελύσθαι", and a participle, "λέλυμένος, -η, -ον". Here are some examples of the use of the Perfect tense:

a) οἱ δοῦλοι τοὺς βοῦς ἤδη λελύκασιν. The slaves have already loosened the oxen. (Indicative Active)

b) φοβούμεθα μὴ οἱ δοῦλοι τοὺς βοῦς οὐκ ἤδη λελυκότες ῶσιν. We are afraid that the slaves have not loosened the oxen. (Subjunctive Active)

c) ἤρετο εἰ οἱ δοῦλοι τοὺς βοῦς οὐκ ἤδη λελυκότες εἶεν. He asked whether the slaves had already loosened the oxen. (Optative Active)

d) λέγει τοὺς δούλους τοὺς βοῦς οὐκ ἤδη λελυκέναι. He says that the slaves have already loosened the oxen. (Active Infinitive)

e) εἶδε τοὺς δούλους τοὺς βοῦς οὐκ ἤδη λελυκότας. He saw that the slaves had already loosened the oxen. (Active Participle)

f) οἱ Βόες τῷ δούλω ἤδη λέλυνται. The oxen have already been loosened by the slave. (Indicative Passive.)

g) εἶπε τοὺς Βόας τῷ δούλω ἤδη λελύσθαι. He said that the oxen had already been loosened by the slave. (Passive infinitive.)

h) οἱ Βόες τῷ δούλῳ λελυμένοι ἐκ τοῦ ἀγροῦ ἠλαύνοντο. After the oxen had been loosened by the slave, they were driven from the field. (Passive Participle.)

In English the Perfect tense is usually expressed by the use of the auxiliary verb "have". In complex sentences where the Perfect tense is used in the subordinate clause or phrase, it describes an action which necessarily occurred prior to the action of the main verb. Where the main verb is in a past tense, i.e. in examples c), e), g), and h) above, the Perfect is usually translated with the word "had".

Sometimes Greek Perfects emphasise strongly that the result of the action is continuing, e.g.

i) γέγραφα γέγραφα. What I have written, I have written (sc. so that's that).

j) ἔγνωκα. I have discovered (sc. and so now I know).

The Perfect Passive is more commonly found than the Perfect Active. This is probably because it often more important to indicate that the subject of passive action is still in an unchanged relation to the action than that the subject of the action is. For instance in the case of examples a) and f) above, the probable main focus of both sentences is the state or condition of the oxen rather than that of the slave, and it is perhaps more natural therefore to express the action in the Passive voice, i.e. in example f) than in the Active, i.e. example a).

5) The use of the Perfect tense in Latin.

The Latin Perfect does the work of what are in both Ancient Greek and in English the work of two separate tenses: 1) the simple Past tense which is used in recounting past events, but which has no implications in relation to continuance or repetition, i.e. what is usually called the Aorist in Greek and the Past Historic in English. 2) the Perfect tense as described above which states the present and enduring effect of a past action, i.e. the equivalent of the Greek Perfect. These two tenses are very different. 1) is a historic tense and refers to past time, whereas 2) is a primary tense and relates to present time. The words "Librum celavi" could, therefore, either mean "I hid the book" at some time in the past but it is unclear whether the book is still hidden or not; or "I have hidden the book", which implies that I have completed the act of hiding the book and it is still hidden. These two uses are sometimes distinguished as 1) the Past Perfect, and 2) the Present Perfect. Only the sense will make it clear in which of these two ways a Latin Perfect should be translated. In practice, though, the use of the Past Perfect appears far more often in classical Latin than that of the Present Perfect. This is because so much extant Latin, whether prose or poetry, is annalistic, i.e. it recounts past events, while the Primary tenses are likely to be more common in direct speech, of which little record survives.

The use of the Present Perfect, representing a present state resulting from a past action, is, in fact, relatively rare in Latin. In poetry, however, it is sometimes used to denote past existence which has now ceased, e.g. "Fuimus Troes; fuit Ilium". We have been Trojans (sc. and are no longer); Troy has been (sc. and does not exist any more) - Virgil's "Aeneid". Another famous example of this usage is Cicero's laconic statement after the execution of the five Catilinarian conspirators: "Vixerunt". They have lived, i.e. they are dead.

The regular need for Latin to use the Perfect tense to denote the simple past is clearly anomalous, since the essential meaning of "Perfect" is "completed", and there is usually no implication of completion in such statements of past events. The lack of a true Aorist tense in Latin is strange, and suggests perhaps the unexplained loss or disappearance of a Latin Aorist at some point in the distant past.

6. The employment of the Greek Perfect with a Present tense meaning.

To return to the Perfect tense in Greek, it is important to appreciate its use to express a Present tense meaning, and the way in which many Greek Perfects are often better translated into an English Present. A simple example of this is τέθαπται, which, if translated literally, means, "He has been buried", but is better translated, "He is buried". Another example is: αἱ πύλαι κέκλεινται. Literally, "The gates have been closed", but often translated, "The gates are shut".

The list below is of Greek verbs, the Perfect of which is often translated in the Present tense.

ἀναμιμνήσκω, I remind (someone). Perfect: μέμνημαι. I have reminded myself = I remember.

ἀποθνῃσκω, I die. Perfect: τέθνηκα. I have died = I am dead.

βαίνω,  I step. Perfect: βέβηκα. I have taken a step = I stand, I stand firm, I am set.

γίγνομαι, I become. Perfect: γέγονα. I have become = I am.

ἵστημι, I have made (someone) stand (transitive). Perfect (intrans.): ἕστηκα. I have stood up = I stand.

κτάομαι, I gain. Perfect: κέκτημαι. I have gained = I possess.

λύω,  I loosen, free. Perfect (Passive): λέλυμαι. I have been freed = I am free.

ὑπολαμβάνω, I understand. Perfect: ὑπείληφα. I have understood  = I suppose.

φύω, I grow. Perfect: πέφυκα, I have grown = I am by nature.

Apart from the above verbs, there are other verbs, the Present tense of which does not appear in Attic Greek, and where the Perfect tense takes its place:

(δείδω), I fear. Perfect form: δέδοικα: fear has come upon me = I fear, I am afraid.

(ἔθω), I am accustomed. Perfect form: εἴωθα, I am accustomed to + infinitive.

(εἴκω), I seem, I am like. Perfect form: ἔοικα, I am like, I am likely to + infinitive.

(ἰδ-), I see. Perfect form: οἴδα, I have discovered, I have found out = I know.

7. Other tenses in the Perfective Aspect.


Apart from the Perfect tense, there are two other Greek tenses that fall within the Perfective Aspect: a) the Future Perfect, which is a primary tense; and b) the Pluperfect, which is a secondary or historic tense.  A brief summary of the use of these tenses is provided below:

a) The Future Perfect. While the Future Tense usually expresses a momentary act in future time, e.g. κληθήσεται, literally "He will be called" = He will be given the name", the Future Perfect expresses a future state, e.g. κεκλήσεται, literally, "He will be called" = "His name will be". In Greek the Future Perfect is rare, and, indeed, in the Active Voice no distinctive future perfect inflexion actually exists. In Latin, the Future Perfect is used to express an action which will be complete in the future; if two future actions are spoken of, one of which will happen before the other, the prior one will be in the Future Perfect and the latter one in the Future, e.g. "ubi viderit, ridebit," "He will laugh when he sees (lit. will have seen)", and, as this example shows, the Future Perfect in Latin is frequently translated by the Present tense in English. In Greek the Future Perfect is concerned with Aspect not with the order of time. So, with regard to this last example, in Greek it would be expressed, "ὅταν ἴδῃ, γελάσεται", i.e. literally, "Whenever he sees, he will laugh", i.e. a Present Subjunctive rather than a Future Perfect, followed by a Future.

b) The Pluperfect (or Past Perfective) tense. The Pluperfect records an action or a state that existed in the past as the result of some other action which occurred at a time still more remote. In English it is usually translated with the use of the auxiliary verb "had". The Pluperfect can usually be identified by an augment denoting past time, and reduplication denoting the Perfective Aspect, e.g. ἐλελύκη (I had loosened, I had freed). Examples:

i) οἰ δοῦλοι τοὺς βοῦς ἐλελύκεσαν πρὶν καταδῦναι τὸν ἥλιον. The slaves had loosened the oxen before the sun set. (Pluperfect Active)

ii) οἱ βόες ἐλέλυντο πρὶν καταδῦναι τὸν ἥλιον. The oxen had been loosened before the sun set. (Pluperfect Passive)

While the use of the word "had" often denotes a verb in the Pluperfect tense, this use of "had" needs to be distinguished from its use to denote a verb in the Perfect tense which appears in a subordinate clause or phrase where the main verb is in a past tense. (See paragraph 4 above.)  

Although more common in Greek than the Future Perfect, the Pluperfect tense is still relatively infrequent in its usage. Whereas in Latin the Pluperfect is regularly used to denote the precise order of time relating to different events, the Greeks often found it unnecessary to draw such distinctions. e.g. while Latin would say, "ubi videram abii," When I had seen (i.e. a Pluperfect followed by an Aorist or Past Historic), I went away, Greek would say, ἐπει εἶδον, ἀπῆλθον, i.e. When I saw, I went away (i.e. two Aorists). English, however, often follows the Latin usage; therefore, Greek Aorists are often translated as Pluperfects in English. Where Greek does use a Pluperfect, as in examples i) and ii) above, it does so to emphasise either the significance of the time relationship or the state resulting from the prior action.

It is also worth noting that in the case where a Greek Perfect replaces a Present form, or is translated by a verb in the Present tense in English, a Pluperfect is used in place of an Imperfect, e.g. οἶδα, I know, ᾔδη,  I was aware; ἕστηκα,  I stand, εἱστήκη,  I was standing.

8. Conclusion. 

This article has sought to show a) the importance of the concept of Aspect in the use of Greek verbs, and how Aspect takes priority over Time; and b) how the so-called Perfect tense in Latin is usually performing the function of an Aorist verb.

HORACE: "THE ART OF POETRY" - THE LETTER TO THE PISONES

Introduction:

The "Ars Poetica", or, if we use its more proper title, the "De Arte Poetica Liber", was probably Horace's final work, written in 10 B.C. after he had ceased writing any other poetical works. Although it is usually considered as a separate work on it own account, it is written in epistolary form, and can therefore be regarded as Book III of Horace's "Letters". It was addressed to the two young Piso brothers, probably the sons of Lucius Calpurnius Piso, the consul in 15 B.C. and a known literary patron. However, their exact identity and that of their father is not certain. At the same time, there is also a considerable controversy about the structure underlying the poem and its structure.

With regard to the poem's structure, Sabidius has followed the theory that it falls into three sections. Of these, the first (ll. 1-88) is preparatory to the main subject of the epistle, and contains some rules and reflections on poetry in general, which act as an introduction to the main sections of the poem, and it is written in an easy and beguiling manner essential to the epistolary form. The main body of the epistle (ll. 89-294) is concerned with regulating the Roman stage, and, especially, with giving rules for tragic drama, which at that time appeared to be the least cultivated and understood of the three dramatic genres, tragedy, comedy and satire. The last section (ll. 295-476) deals with correctness in writing, and is concerned both to explain the things which inhibit such correctness, and to consider the means by which it might be promoted. In this context, the poet's moral character is of central importance to Horace.

The purpose, or relevance, of the "Ars Poetica" is the subject of much argument and discussion, and is particularly difficult to nail down. Peter Levi, author of "Horace, a Life" (1997), argues that Quintilian, the old First Century A.D. schoolmaster, called it the "Art of Poetry", rather than a letter, because he saw it as a text-book for the two adolescent Piso boys, that is a book for children, and a school book about instruction in poetry. Another view is that the book was composed at the wish of Piso the father in order to dissuade his sons, particularly the elder one, from indulging any inclination they might have for writing poetry, firstly, by pointing out the difficulties of the art, and, secondly, by highlighting the ignominy to which a bad poet was likely to be subjected.

But, whatever the purpose of the book was, the "Ars Poetica" is surely a masterpiece of original work, full of good sense, humour and lightness of touch. The poem begins with a description of the mad artist, and ends with one of the mad poet. This final scene, with its last line which contains the metaphor of the poet as an unsatiated leech, Peter Levi considers to be especially brilliant.

As the text for this translation, Sabidius has utilised that of C. Smart, Philadelphia, Joseph Whetham (1836), and has also taken account of his translation, as edited by Theodore Alois Buckley, New York, Harper & Brothers (1863).

In the appendix at the foot of this translation Sabidius has listed some famous quotations taken from this work. That as many as eighteen are included is surely a tribute to the quality of this remarkable poem.


A)  GENERAL RULES AND REFLECTIONS ON POETRY (LL. 1-88)

If a painter should wish to join a horse's neck to a human head, and lay different coloured feathers over limbs gathered from every part (of nature), so that a woman (who is) beautiful at the top (of her body) ends up as a repulsive black fish below, could you, my friend, if you were admitted to such a sight, withhold your laughter? Believe me, Pisones, this book, the fantastic ideas of which, will, like a sick man's dreams, be shaped in such a way that neither top nor bottom can be shaped in any one form, will be exactly similar to such a picture. 'Painters and poets alike, have always had the right to attempt such thing (as this),' (you will say). (This) we know, and we seek and grant this privilege in turn, but not to such an extent that the savage should associate with the tame, nor so that serpents should be coupled with birds, or lambs with tigers. 

To lofty introductions, often promising great (things), a purple patch or two is tacked on, in order to give a striking effect, (as) when the grove and altar of Diana and the meandering of a stream hurrying through pleasant fields, or the river Rhine or a rainbow, is described; but, on occasions, there has been no room for such (things). Perhaps, too, you know how to draw a cypress; (but) what (good is) that, if (he,) who is being painted at a given price, is (shown) swimming desperately away from (the fragments) of a wrecked ship? A wine-jar was put in place first; why, as the wheel revolves, does a pitcher result? In a word, let it be whatever you like, so long as it is simple and uniform.

The majority of (us) poets, a father and young men worthy of their father, are deceived by the appearance of (what is) right: (it is when) I labour to be brief (that) I become obscure; nerves and spirit fail (him) who is seeking an easy (style); (he) who aims at grandeur is bombastic; (he who is) too cautious and (is) fearful of the storm crawls along the ground; (he) who wants to vary a simple subject in an unnatural manner paints a dolphin in the woods, (or) a boar amongst the waves. The avoidance of error leads to a fault, if skill is lacking.

Any smith (hanging) around (the site of) the Aemilian school will both express the nails and imitate the easy-flowing hair in bronze, (yet he is) unfortunate in the completion of his work, because he does not know how to shape the whole (piece): if I were of a mind to compose anything, I should no more choose that I should be such (a one) than to be remembered for a broken nose, while appearing in public with (fine) black eyes and (jet-)black hair.

(You,) who write, must pick a subject suited to your abilities, and consider for a long time what your shoulders will refuse to bear, and what they can manage (to support). Neither eloquence nor a lucid arrangement will desert the man whose subject is chosen in accordance with his abilities. This, or I am much mistaken, will constitute the merit and beauty of method, that (the poet) should say right now (the things) which ought to be said right now, (and) defer most of his (thoughts) and omit (them) for the present time.

Delicate and cautious too in his linking of words, the author of the promised poem must embrace one and reject another. You will have expressed yourself uncommonly well, if some skilful combination should render some well-known word (as) new. If it happens to be necessary to explain some abstruse subjects by newly-invented terms, there will also be the chance to invent (words) unheard of by the Cethegi of old; and the right will be granted, if used with moderation, and new and recently formed words will have authority, if they descend, with (only) a slight alteration, from some Greek source. But why should the Romans grant to Caecilius and Plautus (something) which they have denied to Virgil and Varius? Why should I be envied, if I can acquire a few (words), when the tongue of Cato and Ennius has enriched our fathers' language, and has produced new names for things? We have been allowed, and ever will be allowed, to coin the name (of a word) impressed with the current stamp. As the woods are changed by their (falling) leaves during the fleeting years, the earliest (ones) fall off (first): in this way old age destroys words, and newly invented (ones) flourish and bloom as in the manner of young men. We and our (works) are destined for death: whether Neptune, having been welcomed on land, defends our fleets from the North Winds, the work of a king (indeed), or the swamp, barren for so long and (only) fit for oars, (now) nourishes its neighbouring cities and feels the weighty plough, or the river, having learned a better route, has changed its course, (which was so) damaging to crops, mortal works are destined to perish. Still less can the glory and charm of language be long-lived. Many (words), which now are dead, will be born again, and names, which now (are held) in esteem, will fall away, if usage, which controls the regulation and the rules and the standard of speech, wills (it).

Homer has demonstrated in what measure the achievements of kings and chiefs and (the accounts of) dismal wars might be written; plaintive strains (i.e. elegies) (were) at first (assigned) to the coupling of unequal verses (i.e. in elegiac couplets hexameters alternate with pentameters), and, afterwards successful desires were included also; yet scholars dispute which author (first) published humble elegies, and the case is still before the courts. Rage armed Archilochus with his own iambus; socks (i.e. comedy) and the stately buskin (i.e. tragedy) adopted this foot (as) suitable for dialogue (i.e. the rapid conversation in iambics more readily engaged the attention of the audience), and to subdue the noise of the popular (audience) and made for the action of the stage. The Muse consigns to the lyre (the right) to celebrate Gods and the sons of Gods, and victorious boxers and the horse (which comes) first in the race (i.e. the poetry of Pindar), and the pains (felt) by the young (i.e. the poetry of Sappho) and the uninhibited (joys of) wine (i.e. the poetry of Anacreon). If I am unable, and too ignorant, to observe the alternatives (just) described and the complexions of works (of genius), why am I greeted (as) a poet? Why, out of false modesty, do I prefer to be ignorant than to be learned?

B)  RULES FOR THE STAGE, ESPECIALLY TRAGEDY (LL. 89-294)

A comic subject will not be presented in tragic verses; likewise, the banquet of Thyestes is considered unsuitable to be recounted in verse of a familiar (cast) and almost fitting for the sock (i.e. comedy): let each species (of verse), having been allocated its (proper) place, hold (that place) in a becoming manner; yet sometimes even comedy raises her voice, and angry Chremes rails in a swelling strain; and (a writer) of tragedy usually expresses grief in an ordinary voice. Telephus and Peleus, when in poverty and exile, both cast aside inflated expressions and words a foot and a half long, if they care to move the heart of the spectator with their complaint.

It is not enough for poems to be beautiful: let them be tender and lead the heart of the listener wherever they desire. As men's faces smile on those who are smiling, so they shed tears with those who are weeping. If you want me to weep, you must first show grief yourself: then, Telephus or Peleus, your misfortunes will distress me. Sad words suit a sorrowful face, (words) full of threats an angry (one), wanton (expressions) a playful (look), and, when speaking of serious (matters), a solemn (one). For, from our very birth, nature adjusts our inner (feelings) to every circumstance of fortune: she delights (us) or impels (us) to anger, or makes (us) sink to the ground choking with grievous sorrow. If you bring to the stage something untried, and venture to form a new character, let it be preserved to the end as it was introduced at the beginning and be consistent with itself.

It is difficult to express common (topics in such a way as to make them appear) our own (property), and you will be wiser to divide the story of Troy into acts, than to be the first to introduce (themes which are) unknown and untold:  public subject-matter will become your private property, if you do not dwell around ground (which is) common and open (to all), nor, as a translator, (should you be so) faithful as to take pains to render (the original) word for word, nor, (as) an imitator, should you leap into a straitened (place), from where (a sense of) shame and the rules of your work may forbid you to proceed, nor should you begin in a style like the cyclic bards of old: 'I shall sing of the fate of Priam and the famous war'. What will produce this boaster worthy of so great an abyss? The mountains are in labour, (and) a ridiculous mouse will be born. How much more sensible (is) he who attempts nothing unsuitable (i.e. Homer): 'Tell me, (O) Muse, of the man who, after the occasion of Troy's fall, saw the customs and cities of many people'. He does not intend (to produce) smoke from a flash, but to give light from the smoke, so that from it he may reveal his splendid marvels: Antiphates (i.e. the cannibal king), and Scylla, together with the Cyclops (i.e. Polyphemus), and Charybdis; neither does he begin the Return of Diomedes from the death of Meleager (i.e. as in the case of the cyclic bard Antimachus) nor the Trojan War from the double egg (i.e. the birth of Helen from Leda's eggs): he always hastens to the event, and hurries the listener into the midst of things, as though (they were) well-known, and (the things) he has handled which he despairs of being able to burnish brightly he omits; and he forms his fictions in such a manner, (and) so mingles the false with the true, that the middle will not be out of harmony with the beginning, nor the end with the middle.

Consider what I, and, with me, the public, expect, if you are in need of an applauding (spectator) who waits for the curtain (to fall), and who will sit continuously, until the singer calls out, 'Clap your (hands)!' The behaviour of every age-group must be noted by you, and a proper respect must be assigned to various dispositions and ages. A child, who already knows how to express himself in words and imprints the ground with a sure tread, delights to play with his fellows and thoughtlessly contracts and sets aside anger, and is subject to change from hour to hour. The beardless youth, after his guardian has at last been disposed of, rejoices in horses and dogs and the sunny grass of the Campus (Martius); (he is) easily led in being turned towards vice, rude to advisers, a tardy provider of what is advantageous, free with his money, aspiring and passionate, and swift to discard the objects of his desire. (Then,) after our inclinations have changed, the age and spirit of manhood seeks wealth and connections, is devoted to (positions of) honour, and is wary of committing (any act) which he might struggle to correct quickly. Many difficulties encompass an old man, either because he makes money, and, (like) a miser, he abstains from what he has acquired and is afraid to make use of (it), or because he manages everything in a timid and feeble manner; (he is) dilatory, slow to hope, listless, and terrified of the future, morose and querulous, a praiser of times past, when he was a boy, (and) a castigator and critic of his juniors. Advancing years bring with them many advantages, our declining (years) take many (of these) away: an old man's stage parts should not be entrusted to a youth, and a man's to a boy: we should always dwell upon (those things which are) attached to and (are) appropriate to (a particular) age.

An action is either represented on the stage, or is reported (there) after it has been done (elsewhere). (Things) which are received by the ear excite the mind more slowly than (those) which are subjected to the faithful eyes, and which a spectator transmits to himself: you should not, however, present on stage (things only) fit to be enacted behind (the scenes), and you should remove from view many (actions) which the eloquence (of an actor) may soon report in person: let not Medea slaughter her sons in the presence of the people, nor the impious Atreus openly cook human entrails, nor let Procne be turned into a bird, (and) Cadmus into a serpent. Whatever you show in this manner, I view with incredulity and disgust. Let a play, which it is your wish should be in (public) demand and revived as a spectacle, be neither shorter nor longer than the fifth act. Neither let a God intervene, unless a difficulty worthy of his unravelling should present itself, nor let a fourth person take the trouble to speak. Let the chorus perform the part, and the strenuous role, of an actor, and let it not sing anything in between the acts that is not connected with, and does (not) adhere closely to, the plot. Let it favour the good, and give (them) friendly counsel, and let it restrain the passionate, and be pleased to appease (those) boiling (with rage). Let it praise the repast of a frugal table, (and let) it (praise) wholesome justice, and laws, and peace with its open gates. Let it keep concealed (the secrets) entrusted to it, and let it pray to the gods, and beseech (them) that good fortune may return to the poor, and abandon the proud.

The pipe, not, as now, ringed with brass, and a rival to the trumpet, but slender and simple (in form) with a small opening, was employed to accompany and assist the chorus, and to fill with its tones the (rows of) seats, which were not yet too densely crowded, where the people, being doubtless easy to count, as being few (in number), and (being) honest and decent and modest, assembled. When the victorious (people of Rome) began to extend their territories, and a wider (circuit of) wall (began) to encompass  the city, their Genius was indulged on festal days by (drinking) wine during the daytime without penalty, and a greater (degree of) licence emerged both in the number (of verses) and the measures (of music). For what (sense of) taste could an unlettered rustic (yokel), and (one just) freed from his labours, demonstrate, when mingled with an urbane (city-dweller), the base-born with (a man) of honourable birth? Thus, the pipe-player added both a (quicker) movement and a richer (modulation) to the ancient art, and trailed his robe as he strutted across the stage; in this way, too, (new) notes increased the (range of) the sober lyre, and a cascading (style of) eloquence brought an unfamiliar (way of) speaking (to the theatre), and the sentiments (of the chorus), quick with useful pieces (of advice) and prescient of the future, did not differ (in quality) from the oracles at Delphi.

(The man) who, for the sake of a common he-goat, competed in tragic verse, soon after presented wild Satyrs naked (on the stage), and, (with) rough (sarcasm,) attempted a jest (i.e. wrote a Satyric drama to accompany tragic trilogies), (while still keeping) the gravity (of tragedy) unharmed, for the (reason) that the spectator, having been engaged in festal rites, and (being) both drunk and disorderly, had to be kept in his seat by enticements and welcome novelty. However, it will be expedient so to recommend the banterers and the cheeky Satyrs, and so to turn (things) of a serious (nature) into a jest, that, whatever God and whatever hero shall be introduced (on to the stage), he may, having (until) recently been seen in regal gold and purple, not descend, through vulgar language, to (the level of) obscure taverns, nor, while he spurns the ground, snatch at clouds and vacant (spaces). Tragedy, disdaining to spout trivial verses, like a matron, compelled to dance around on festal days, will mingle with wanton Satyrs, (while preserving) some degree of modest (reserve). (As a writer), I shall not, (you) Pisones, be obliged (to employ) only plain and familiar names and words, nor shall I struggle to deviate so (widely) from the tragic style, that it does not matter (to me) at all whether the speaker is Davus (i.e. a slave), the brazen Pythias (i.e. a slave-girl), who has gained a talent by wiping Simo's (i.e. an old man's) nose, or Silenus, the guardian and attendant of his pupil God (i.e. Bacchus). From a well-known (subject), I shall produce such a fictional story that anyone you can think of might hope (to do) the same (thing): such (power) does a (proper) arrangement and linkage (of events) possess, (and) so much grace comes from (subjects) taken from the masses. In my opinion, the Fauns that are brought out of the woods should always take care neither to play about with over-emotional verses or to loose off (volleys of) obscene and shameful words, as if they had been brought up on street corners and almost in the forum. (At this all) will take offence who have a horse (i.e. knights), a father (i.e. nobles) or estates (i.e. the wealthy), nor, whatever the purchaser of roasted chick-peas and nuts (i.e. the common people, who consume these articles during performances) approves of, do they receive (it) with favourable minds or award (it) the (winner's) garland.

A long syllable placed after a short (one) is called an Iambus, (that is) a quick foot; from here also it commanded the name of trimeter to be added to iambics, although it delivered six beats (i.e. an iambic meter consists of two feet), being like itself from first to last (i.e. they were pure iambic lines). Not so long ago, in order that it might come somewhat slower and with more weight upon the ear, it obligingly and patiently received the steadfast spondees (i.e. feet consisting of two long syllables) into its family heritage, (but) not (being so) understanding as to relinquish the second and fourth position; this (iambus in the second and fourth feet) rarely appears in Accius' noble trimeters, and stamps the verses of Ennius, brought on to the stage with a heavy weight, (as) work (which is) too hasty and lacking in care, or with the damaging charge of artistic ignorance.

Not every critic discerns unrhythmical poems, and an unmerited indulgence has been granted to Roman poets. Shall I, on this account, run riot, and write without licence? Or should I suppose that everyone will see my faults, (while I am) safe and secure with the expectation of a pardon? In short, I have avoided censure, (but) haven't earned any praise. You (who wish to excel,) turn (the pages) of your Greek models night, (and) day. But our ancestors praised both the rhythms and the witticisms of Plautus, admiring both of these too readily, I will not say foolishly, if only you and I know how to distinguish a coarse (joke) from a witty remark, and understand the proper sound (of a verse) with (the aid of) our fingers and ears.

Thespis is said to have invented a type (of drama) unknown to the tragic Muse, and to have conveyed (his actors) in wagons, and these, with the lees (of wine) smeared all over their faces, sang and performed. After him (came) Aeschylus, the inventor of the face-mask and the decent robe, and he covered the stage with boards of a moderate size, and taught (his actors) to speak in a lofty voice and to wear the buskin (i.e. to perform tragedies). The old comedy followed these (tragedies), not without considerable applause, but its freedom degenerated into excess and violence, needing to be regulated by law: a law was approved, and the chorus, its right to abuse having been removed, became shamefully silent.

Our poets have left nothing untried, nor have they merited the least honour, when they ventured to forsake the footsteps of the Greeks and to celebrate domestic exploits, whether they have instructed (us) in (plays) with robes (i.e. tragedies) or (plays) with togas (i.e. comedies). Nor would Latium (i.e. Italy) (have been made) stronger through its valour and its glorious (feats of) arms, than by its language, if the labour and hindrance of the file (i.e. the process of correction and revision) had not deterred every single one of our poets. O you, the offspring of Pompilius (i.e. Numa, the second king of Rome, from whom the Calpurnii Pisones claimed descent), condemn that poem which many a day and many a blot have not refined and corrected (right down) to the pared nail (i.e. absolute perfection).

C)  CORRECTNESS IN WRITING (LL. 295-476)

Because Democritus believes genius (is) more successful than wretched study, and excludes sane poets from Helicon (i.e. a mountain in Greece sacred to Apollo and the Muses), a good section (of them) do not care to cut their nails or their beard, seek secluded spots, and avoid the baths. For he will (certainly) obtain the reward and name of a poet, if he never submits to Licinius, the barber, a head which is not curable by three Anticyras (i.e. producers of hellebore, the traditional remedy for madness). O, how unlucky am I, who purges away my bile at the season of springtime. No one else can compose better poems; however, there is nothing (in it) of such great value (as to make it worthwhile). So, I shall act like a grindstone, which is able to make steel sharp, (but is) itself free of cutting; (while) writing nothing myself, I shall teach the duty and business of a poet, from where resources may be procured, what nourishes and shapes a poet, what is proper, (and) what (is) not, to where (moral) virtue, (and) to where error, leads. 

Wisdom is both the beginning and the source of writing well. The writings of Socrates will be able to indicate your subject, and words will readily follow the subject, once it has been provided. (He,) who has learned what he owes to his country and what (he owes) to his friends, with what affection a parent, a brother and a guest should be loved, what is the function of a senator and of a judge, (and) what (are) the duties of a general sent to war, that (man) will certainly know how to give suitable (attributes) to every character. I shall instruct a learned imitator to look for an ideal way of life and behaviour, and from this to draw expressions of real life. Sometimes, a play (which is) striking in its (moral) topics and proper in its character, (but) without any charm, (and) without (poetic) authority and skill, delights the people a good deal more than verses (which are) devoid of any substance and tuneful trifles. The Muse bestowed genius on the Greeks, and (the ability) to speak in an eloquent voice, and they were desirous of nothing else but praise. Roman boys learn by long computations to divide a pound (i.e. an 'as') into a hundred parts. "Let the son of Albinus (i.e. a well-known usurer) tell (me): if an ounce (i.e. an 'uncia') is taken from a quincunx (i.e. five ounces or 'unciae'), what is left over? You would have said: 'a third (of a pound) (i.e. because there were twelve 'unciae' to an 'as').' Well (done), you will be able to take care of your own affairs. (If) an ounce is added, what is the result? 'Half (a pound).' " When this avarice and craze for coppers has once tainted their minds, can we expect verses to be fashioned (such as) can be daubed with cedar (oil) and preserved in (cases of) polished cypress (n.b. the ancients used these kinds of wood to preserve their manuscripts, because they were not liable to corruption). 

Poets want either to to benefit or delight (their audiences), or to address at the same time both the pleasures and the necessities of life. Whatever advice you give, let it be brief, so that the minds of the learners may quickly understand what is said, and keep hold of (it). Every superfluous (word) emanates from a heart (that is too) full. Let what is made up for the sake of entertainment be very close to reality: let not your play demand whatever it wants to be believed, nor extract a living child from the belly of the witch who has eaten (it). Hundreds of old people rail against (plays) which lack moral substance, and the lofty tribe of knights disregard solemn poems: (he) who mixes the wholesome with the sweet wins every vote, by delighting and admonishing his reader at the same time. Such a book earns money for the Sosii (i.e. well-known booksellers in Rome); it both crosses the sea, and extends its renowned writer a long duration (of fame).

Yet, there are faults which we should be ready to disregard: for neither does the string (always) make the sound which the hand and the mind (of the performer) intends, and frequently emits a sharp (note)
when he requires a flat (one), nor will a bow always hit whatever (target) it is aiming at. But, when there are many splendid (things) in a poem, I shall not be offended by a few blemishes, which either carelessness has effected or human nature has insufficiently guarded against. So what is (the conclusion we are to draw)? As a copying clerk, if he continually makes the same mistake, although he has been warned, is without an excuse, and a harpist, who always blunders on the same string, is laughed at, so (the poet) who makes many mistakes becomes for me a very Choerilus (i.e. an epic poet from Caria, who attached himself to Alexander the Great), whom, (when he is) tolerable in two or three (instances), I wonder at with laughter; in the same way I even feel aggrieved whenever good Homer nods off; however, it is acceptable that sleep should suddenly steal up upon a lengthy work.

In the same way, I even feel aggrieved, whenever good Homer nods off; however, it is acceptable that sleep should suddenly steal up upon a lengthy work. As (is) painting, so (is) poetry: there will be (some paintings) which will capture your (imagination) more if you stand nearby, and others (will do so) if you stand at some distance away; one loves the gloom, another, which does not fear the acute shrewdness of the critic, wishes to be seen in the light; the one is pleasing on one occasion, the other will please if seen again ten times. O (you), the elder of the young (Pisos), although you may be pointed towards a right (judgment) by your father's voice, and you are wise in yourself, take this precept along with you, and remember (it): in certain fields (of activity), mediocrity and a tolerable (degree of ability) are rightly allowed: (a man) experienced in the law and a pleader of causes is far removed from the excellence of the eloquent Messalla, and does not know as much as Aulus Cascellius, but yet he is of value: (but) neither men, nor Gods, nor (even) booksellers' shops have allowed poets to be mediocre. As, at an agreeable dinner, an out-of-tune orchestra, heady perfume, and poppy-seeds in Sardinian honey cause offence, because the dinner could be prolonged without those (things), so, a poem, created and invented to please our minds, if it falls a little short of the summit, sinks to the bottom.

(He) who does know how to compete in field sports keeps away from the weapons of the Campus (Martius), and he who is unskilled in ball-games, quoits, or hoops, keeps quiet, lest the crowded ring (of spectators) safely raises a laugh; Yet, he (who) knows nothing about verses, presumes to compose (them). (And) why not? (He is) a freeman and well-born, (and) above all he is assessed at an equestrian income, and (is) free from every vice. You will say or compose nothing against the will of Minerva (i.e. against the natural bent of your genius): such is your judgment, such (are) your feelings. But, if you ever do write anything, let it be submitted to the ears of (i.e read aloud to) Metius (Tarpa), (who is) a critic, and your father's and mine, and let it be held back (from publication) until the ninth year, while you deposit your papers in (your letter-case); you can destroy what you have not published, (but) a word, (once) released, can never be returned.

Orpheus, the priest and interpreter of the Gods, deterred the savage (race of) men from slaughter and foul food, (and,) on account of this, (he is) said to have tamed tigers and raging lions; Amphion, the founder of the city of Thebes, (is) also said to have moved rocks by the sound of his lyre, and to have led (them) wherever he wished by his engaging appeal. (For) this was once (considered to be) wisdom: to distinguish public from private (matters), (and) the sacred from the profane, to prohibit promiscuous sexual relations, to give rules to married (people), to build towns, (and) to inscribe laws on wooden (tablets). Thus, honour and renown came to the divine poets and their songs. After these, the excellent Homer and Tyrtaeus inflamed, through their verses, the spirits of men in the direction of martial campaigns; oracles (were) delivered, and the road of life was pointed out, by means of poems, the favour of kings was sought by Pierian strains (i.e. the tunes of the Muses), and games were also devised (as) an end to the long toils (of the harvest): do not, (then,) let the Muse, skilled on the lyre, and the singer Apollo, perchance, bring a blush to your cheek.

Do not (then) let the Muse, (who is) skilled on the lyre and the singer Apollo perchance bring a blush to your cheek. (The question) is asked, (whether) praiseworthy poetry arises from nature or from art: I do not see what either study without a rich (natural) vein, or untutored genius, can achieve (by itself): thus, the one circumstance requires the assistance of the other, and conspires amicably (towards the same end). (He) who is eager to reach the longed-for turning post on the course has borne and done much (as) a boy: he has sweated and shivered with cold, he has refrained from love-making and from wine; the flute-player who sings the Pythian strains was formerly a learner, and greatly feared his master. It is now enough for (a poet) to have said (of himself), "I compose wonderful poems; let a plague of spots take hold of the hindmost; it is shameful for me to lag behind, and, indeed, to confess that I am ignorant of (something) which I have not learned".

Like a crier, who collects a crowd (of people) to buy his goods, (so) a poet, rich in land and rich in money placed at interest, bids flatterers come (to praise his poetry) for a financial reward. But, if he is (the sort) who can serve sumptuous dinners well, and give security on behalf of a poor (and) shiftless (man), and come to his rescue (when he is) entangled in vexatious lawsuits, I'll be surprised if our wealthy (bard) will know how to distinguish between true and false friends. Whether you have given, or intend to give, something to anyone, do not lead (him, when he is) full of joy, (to hear) the verses (which) you (have) composed; for he will exclaim, "Fine! Lovely! Great!" he will turn pale; on top of this, he will even distil dew from his friendly eyes, he will jump about, he will stamp the ground with his feet (in ecstasy). As (those) who lament at funerals, (after) having been hired (to do so), say and do almost more than (those who are) grieving from (the bottom of) their hearts, so the fake is more moved than the sincere admirer. (Certain) kings are reputed to ply with many goblets, and to put to the rack with wine, (a man) whom they are keen to know whether he is worthy of their friendship; if you intend to compose poems, never let the thoughts lying hidden beneath the fox's (skin) deceive you.

If you recited some (piece of writing) to Quintilius (Varus) (i.e. a friend of Horace and Virgil, who died in 24 B.C.), he would say, "Please correct this and that." (If) you said that you could not (do any) better, having tried in vain (to make an improvement) two or three times, he would tell (you) to rub (it) out, and return your poorly turned verses to the anvil. If you chose to defend your fault (rather) than to correct (it), he would expend no further word or wasted effort (to stop you) from admiring yourself and your (work) alone without a rival. A good (man) and a sensible (one) will censure feeble verses, he will condemn clumsy (ones), he will affix a black mark to those (verses that are) poorly constructed by drawing his pen across (them), he will lop off ostentatious ornaments, he will insist that (the author) gives clarity to (lines where the meaning is) insufficiently clear, he will highlight an ambiguous statement, (and) he will mark (the things) that need to be altered: he will be a (true) Aristarchus (i.e. the celebrated grammarian of antiquity, famed for his critical power and for his impartiality as a judge of literary merit); he will not say, "Why should I give offence to my friend about (mere) trifles?" (For) these trifles will involve (a man) in serious trouble, once he is mocked and poorly received (by the world).

Like (the man) whom a bad skin disease, or kings' sickness (i.e. jaundice), or religious frenzy and a raging Diana (i.e. lunacy, as Diana was the lunar goddess) distresses, (those) who are wise are afraid to touch the crazy poet, and they avoid (him), (while) children worry (him), and unwisely pursue (him). If, like a fowler watching his blackbirds, while he belches forth his verses and roams around with his head in the air, he should fall down into a well or a ditch, although he may cry out in a long (drawn-out voice), "Help (me), Oh, my (fellow-)citizens," no one would be bothered to lift (him) out. If anyone were to take the trouble to offer him assistance and let down a rope, I should say, "How do you know, perhaps he threw himself down there on purpose, and doesn't wish to be saved?" and I should recount the death of the Sicilian poet. "Empedocles, while wishing to be considered an immortal god, leapt into fiery Etna in cold blood (i.e. deliberately). May poets have the right, to die and may they be permitted (to do so): (he) who saves (a man) against his will, does the same (thing) to (a man when) killing (him). Neither has he acted in this way for the first time, nor, if he were dragged back now, would he become a human being and set aside his desire for a celebrated death. Nor is it sufficiently clear why he keeps on writing poetry, whether he has pissed on his father's ashes or has disturbed with polluted (hands) some place which was struck by lightning. He is evidently mad, and, if, like a bear, he manages to smash the bars enclosing his cage, this pitiless reciter puts to flight (both) the unlearned and the learned; indeed, whomsoever he has seized, he holds fast and slays with reading, (like) a leech that will not let go of the skin, until (it is) full of blood."


APPENDIX A: FAMOUS QUOTATIONS FROM THE "ART OF POETRY"

1.  'Pictoribus atque poetis / quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas.' / scimus, et hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim.  'Painters and poets alike, (you may say), have always had the right to attempt any such thing as this.' We know this, and we seek this privilege for ourselves, and grant it to others in turn. (10-11.)

2.  Inceptis gravibus plerumque et magna professis / purpureus, late qui splendeat, unus et alter / adsuitur pannus.  To lofty introductions, often promising great things, a purple patch or two is tacked on to give a striking effect. (14-17.)        

3.  Brevis esse laboro, / obscurus fio.  It is when I labour to be brief that I become obscure. (25-26.)

4.  Grammatici certant et adhuc sub iudice lis est.  Scholars dispute and the case is still before the courts. (78.)

5.  Proiicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba.  He casts aside inflated expressions and words a foot and a half long. (97.)

6.  Si vis me flere, dolendum est / primum ipsi tibi.  If you wish me to weep, you must first show grief yourself. (102-103.)

7.  Parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.  The mountains are in labour, and a ridiculous mouse will be born. (139.)

8.  Semper ad eventum festinat et in mediis res / non secus ac notas auditorem rapit.  He always hastens to the issue, and hurries his listener into the midst of the situation as though it were well-known. (148-149.)

9.  Difficilis, querulus, laudator temporis acti se puero.  Testy, querulous, and given to praising past times, when he was a boy. (173-174.)

10.  Vos exemplaria Graeca / nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.  You (who wish to excel), turn the pages of your Greek models by night and by day. (268.)

11.  Grais ingenium, Grais dedit ore rotundo / Musa loqui.   The Muse bestowed genius on the Greeks, and the ability to speak in an eloquent voice. (323-324.)

12.  Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, / lectorem delectando pariterque monendo.  The man who mixes the wholesome with the sweet wins every vote, by delighting and admonishing the reader at the same time. (343-344.)

13.  Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus. I feel aggrieved whenever good Homer nods off. (359.)

14.  Ut pictura poesis.  As is painting, so is poetry. (361.)

15.  Mediocribus esse poetis / non homines, non Di, no concessere columnae.  Neither men, nor Gods, nor even bookstalls have ever allowed poets to be mediocre. (372-373.)

16.  Nonumque prematur in annum. Let it be held back from publication until the ninth year (i.e. until the twelfth of never). (388.)

17.  Delere licebit, quod non edideris, nescit vox missa reverti.  You can destroy what you have not published, but a  word, once released, can never be returned. (389-390.)

18.  Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris, hirudo.  A leech will not let go of the skin, until it is full of blood. (476.)