HOMER: ILIAD: BOOK VIII: THE TIDE OF BATTLE TURNS IN FAVOUR OF THE TROJANS

Introduction:

All the fighting described in this, the eighth book of Homer's "Iliad", takes place in a single day, and it is thus the shortest battle in the War: hence the Book's ancient title, "Κόλος Μάχη", "the Shortened (or Unfinished) Battle". Because Zeus has promised Thetis that he will allow the Trojans to gain the upper hand in the war, until the Greeks, and their king, Agamemnon, are forced to beg Achilles to return to the fray on whatever terms he chooses to set, the Trojans, led by the forceful Hector of the shining helmet, succeed in driving them back to their ships. Indeed, by the end of the book it looks as though the Trojans are on the verge of victory and that the Greeks may be compelled to set sail for home. Before this the goddesses Hera and Athene, anxious about the position of the Greeks, have tried to intervene personally in the fighting, but are successfully warned off by Iris on Zeus' behalf, an incident which starkly demonstrates the extent to which Zeus dominates all the other gods. The book ends with the Trojans camping out on the plain for the first time since the siege began. The beautiful simile which encapsulates the sight of their fires (ll. 555-565) sets out an image of clarity and order, in sharp contrast to the atmosphere of panic and confusion afflicting the Greeks at the beginning of Book IX.

Ll. 1-52.  Zeus warns the gods not to join in the battle. 

Now, saffron-robed Dawn was spreading (herself) over the whole earth, and Zeus, who delights in thunder, arranged an assembly of the gods on the highest peak of many-ridged Olympus; then, he began to address them, and all the gods were listening to (him): "Hearken unto me, all (you) gods and goddesses, so that I can say what the heart in my breast bids me. Let not any female god, nor indeed any male (one), attempt to disobey this word of mine, but may you all alike assent (to it), so that I may bring this business to an end with all speed. And, (if) I should notice that anyone (of you), standing apart from the gods, is wishing to go and bring help either to the Trojans or to the Danaans, then he will return to Olympus, having been smitten in the most horrible manner (i.e. by a thunderbolt); or I shall seize him and hurl (him) far below into murky Tartarus, where there is the deepest pit beneath the earth, where the gate (is made) of iron and the threshold of bronze, (and it is) as far below Hades as the sky is above the earth; then, shall he know that I am by far the mightiest of all the gods. But come now, (you) gods, try (it), so that all of you may know: hang up a golden chain from heaven and cling (to it), all (you) gods and goddesses; but you could not pull Zeus, the most high counsellor, down from heaven to the ground, not even if you were to pull ever so hard. But, whenever I were minded to pull in earnest, I could haul (you) up, with the earth itself and with the sea itself; and then I could tie the chain around a peak of Olympus, and, in that case, everything would be left hanging in mid-air. By so much am I superior to gods and men."

So he spoke, and they all became hushed in silence, as they marvelled at his words; for he had addressed (them) with great forcefulness. Then, at length, the bright-eyed goddess Athene spoke out: "O our father, son of Cronos, greatest of (all) lords, now do we well know that your might is unyielding; but, all the same, we do feel sorry for the Danaan spearmen, who will fulfil their wretched fate and die. But we shall surely keep away from the fighting, as you command; but we shall suggest counsel to the Argives, from which they will get some benefit, so that they will not all perish due to your wrath."

Then, cloud-gathering Zeus smiled at her and said: "Take courage, Tritogeneia (i.e. sea-born); in no way am I speaking with a firm intention, and I do wish to be kind to you."

Ll. 41-77.  The Trojans and the Greeks engage one another in battle; Zeus' scales of fate fall in favour of the former. 

So speaking, he harnessed (a pair of) bronze-hooved horses to his chariot, swift-running (horses) decked with manes of golden hair, and he himself was clad in gold around his body, and he grasped his whip, well-wrought in gold, and he mounted the board of his chariot and cracked his whip to get (the horses) in motion; they flew eagerly onward midway between earth and starry heaven. He came to Ida, the many-fountained mother of wild beasts, (even) to Gargaron (i.e. the central peak of Mount Ida), and there was his sanctuary and his altar, fragrant with incense. There the father of men and gods stayed his horses, and loosed (them) from the chariot, and shed a thick mist over (them). He then sat down on the peak of the mountain, glorying in his splendour, (and) looking down upon the city of the Trojans and the ships of the Achaeans.

Meanwhile, the long-haired Achaeans took their meal in haste within their huts, and immediately after it they armed themselves. And on the other side, the Trojans, for their part, prepared for battle throughout the city, (though there were) fewer (of them); but, even so, they were eager to fight in combat through urgent necessity, on behalf of their children and wives. Then, the whole gate was thrown open, and the host streamed forth, both foot-soldiers and charioteers (alike), and a great din arose.

But, when they met together and came to one place, then they clashed their shields together, and their spears together, and (they displayed) the fury of men with bronze-breastplates; then shield-bosses met one another, and a great din arose. And then there were intermingled the wailing and crowing of men (who were) killing and being killed, and the ground ran with blood.

Now. as long as it was morning and the sacred day was waxing, so did the missiles of both sides well reach their targets, and men kept falling. But when the sun reached the centre of the sky (i.e. its zenith), then the Father opened up his golden pair of scales; and he placed within (them) two fated tokens of woeful death, (one) for the horse-taming Trojans and (another) for the bronze-clad Achaeans; then, he grasped (the scales) in the middle and lifted (them) up; and down sank the fateful day of the Achaeans. The Achaeans' fates settled upon the bountiful earth, and (those) of the Trojans were raised to the broad heavens; then he himself thundered loudly from Ida, and he sent a blazing flash (of lightning) among the host of the Achaeans; and, when they saw (it), they were astounded, and fear seized (them) all within its pale (grip).

Ll. 78-111. Nestor stands alone among the Greeks, until Diomedes come to his aid.

Then, neither Idomeneus nor Agamemnon dared to stand fast, nor did the two Aiantes, those companions of Ares, stand their ground: the Gerenian Nestor, warden of the Achaeans, alone remained (there), not at all willingly, but a horse (of his) had been wounded, (as) godlike Alexander (i.e. Paris), the husband of fair-haired Helen, had hit it with an arrow on the crown of its head, where horses' foremost hairs grow from the skull, and it is a particularly critical (spot). Sorely wounded, it gave a bound, as the arrow sank into its brain, and it threw the (other) horses into confusion as it writhed on account of the bronze (point) (i.e. it was not one of the two yoked horses, but a trace horse attached to the chariot by  a rope). While the old man was lunging with his sword to sever the horse's traces, so the swift horses of Hector came on through the rout, bearing Hector, their bold driver; and now would the old man have then lost his life, if Diomedes, good at the war-cry, had not (so) quickly noticed (him); he gave Odysseus a fearful shout to urge (him) on: "Zeus-born son of Laërtes, (you man) of many wiles, whither are you fleeing, turning your back like a coward in a throng? But (take care,) lest someone should plant his spear in your back as you flee; nay, stand your ground, so that we may beat back this savage warrior from the old man." 

So he spoke, but the much-enduring godlike Odysseus did not hear (him), but ran on past to the hollow ships of the Achaeans. But the son of Tydeus (i.e. Diomedes), alone though he was, tangled with the foremost fighters, and stood in front of the chariot of the old man, the son of Neleus (i.e. Nestor), and, as he spoke, he addressed him with these winged words: "O old man, to be sure these young warriors press you too hard; your strength is broken, and grim old age attends you; now your squire (is) weak, and your horses (are) slow. But come, mount my chariot, so you can see of what kind of (stock are) the horses of Tros (i.e. founder of Troy and Priam's great-grandfather), well versed, (as they are,) in speeding hither and thither across the plain, in pursuit or in flight; and I once took them from Aeneas, the agents of fear (that they are). Our squires can tend your (pair), while we can steer my (pair) against the horse-taming Trojans, so that Hector too shall know whether my spear rages in my hands also.

Ll. 112-150.  Diomedes and Nestor come together to fight the Trojans, but the omens are against them. 

So he spoke, and the Gerenian horseman Nestor did not fail to comply. Then, their stout squires, Sthenelus and manly Eurymedon took charge of Nestor's mares. And the two of them mounted Diomedes' chariot: Nestor took the gleaming reins in his hands, and whipped on the horses; and they quickly came within range of Hector. Then, the son of Tydeus hurled a spear at him as he came straight at (them); him he missed, but he struck his charioteer and squire, Eniopeus, the son of great-hearted Thebaeus, in the chest beside the nipple, as he was holding the reins. And he fell from the chariot, and the swift-footed horses shied away from him; and life and limb were lost to him forthwith. Then, dreadful sorrow for his charioteer engulfed the heart of Hector; yet, he let him lie there, despite his grieving for his companion; nor yet did his horses lack a director for long: for he quickly found brave Archeptolemus, the son of Iphitus, whom he made mount the swift-footed horses then and there, and he put the reins in his hands.

Then, there would have been havoc, and deeds beyond remedy would have occurred, and they would now have been penned into Ilium like lambs, if the father of men and gods had not seen (it so) quickly. Then, thundering fearfully, he discharged a dazzling thunderbolt, and cast (it) down to the ground in front of Diomedes' horses; and there arose a terrible flame of burning sulphur, and, in their fear, the horses cowered beneath the chariot. Then, the gleaming reins slipped from the hands of Nestor, and he felt fear in his heart, and said to Diomedes: "Come, son of Tydeus, and steer your uncloven horses  back in flight. Don't you see that success in battle is not coming to you from Zeus? For now Zeus, the son of Cronos, gives today's glory to yonder (man) (i.e. Hector); however, on another day he will also give (it) to us, if it shall be his will; but (there is) no way (in which) a man, not even the very strongest, may thwart the will of Zeus, since he is mightier by far."

Then, Diomedes, good at the war-cry, answered him: "Yes, all the (things) you say, old man, (are) true indeed; but this dread pain comes to my heart and soul: for some day Hector, as he speaks to an assembly of the Trojans, will say: 'Tydeus' son was put to flight and sent back to his ships by me.' So he may boast one day: then may the wide earth gape for me." 

Ll. 151-197.  Hector taunts the retreating Diomedes, and boasts of the victory that he envisages.

Then, the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him: "Ah me, (you) son of that warrior Tydeus, what (a thing) to say! For, even if Hector calls you a coward and a weakling, yet the Trojans and the Dardanians will not believe (it), and (nor will) the wives of those great-hearted shield-bearing Trojans, whose sturdy husbands you have hurled in the dust."

So speaking, he turned his uncloven-hooved horses in flight back through the rout; and the Trojans and Hector showered grievous missiles upon (them) with a wondrous clamour. And great Hector of the shining helmet shouted after him in a loud voice: "Son of Tydeus, the Danaans with their swift steeds used to honour you particularly through your seat, and through your meats, and through your wine-cups being (always) filled; but now they will scorn you; so it's true you have been made into a woman. Get away with you, (you) cowardly girl, since you will not scale our walls through any weakness of mine, nor will you carry off our women in your ships; before that I shall deal you your destiny."

So he spoke, and the son of Tydeus was caught in two minds, whether to turn around his horses and fight (him) face to face, (or not). Three times he pondered deeply in his heart and soul, and three times Zeus the counsellor thundered from the peaks of Ida, giving the Trojans a sign of their side's victory in battle. Then, Hector called out to the Trojans with a loud shout: "Trojans, and Lycians, and close-fighting Dardanians, be you men, my friends, and be you mindful of your strength in battle. I can see that the son of Cronos has definitely promised victory and great glory to me, but woe to the Danaans. Poor fools, they have built this wall of theirs, a feeble (thing) of no account: it will not withstand my (mighty) strength; my horses will easily leap over the ditch (they have) dug. But, when I shall be there by their hollow ships, let there be some memory (among you) of consuming fire, so that I can set fire to their ships, and also cut down the Argives themselves beside their ships, (while they are) distraught with fear due to the smoke.

So saying, he called out to his horses and said: "Xanthus, and you, Podargus, and Aethon, and splendid Lampus, now you can repay me for your keep, that delicious wheat which Andromache, daughter of great-hearted Eëtion, has put in front of you in great abundance, and the wine she has mixed (for you) to drink, whenever the spirit bids (you), sooner than (she has) for me, who, I avow, am her most stalwart husband. But come with me then, and get you going, so that we can take Nestor's shield, the fame of which now reaches to the sky, as it is all gold, both its hand-grips and the (shield) itself, and then (take) from the shoulders of horse-taming Diomedes his skilfully wrought breast-plate, which Hephaestus worked hard to make. If we could take these two (prizes), I should think that the Achaeans will embark upon their ships this very night."

Ll. 198-244. Angered by the success of the Trojans, Hera induces Agamemnon to rally the Greeks. 

So he spoke in a boastful voice, and queenly Hera was angry, and she rocked up and down on her throne and shook the heights of Olympus; and, then, she spoke to the great god Poseidon: "Shame on you, mighty Earthshaker, not even now does the heart in your breast feel any pity for the Danaans as they perish. Yet, they bring many pleasing gifts to Helice and Aegae in your honour (i.e. Achaean cities sacred to Poseidon); and you used to wish them victory. For, if we were to decide, all those of us who (are) helpful to the Danaans, to push back the Trojans, and to keep far-seeing Zeus in check, he would then have to sit there on (Mount) Ida alone."

Then, the lord Earthshaker, greatly vexed in spirit, said to her: "Hera, (ever) reckless in your speech, what words you have spoken! I would not wish the rest of us to fight with Zeus, the son of Cronos, for, assuredly, he is mightier (than us) by far."

So they spoke such (words) to each other. Then, all the (space) beyond the ships, which was enclosed by the wall and the ditch, was filled with the (Achaeans), horses and shield-bearing men penned in alike; and (it was) Hector, son of Priam, the peer of swift Ares, (who) was penning (them) in, seeing that Zeus had given him the glory. And now he would have set the well-balanced ships on fire with burning flame, if queenly Hera had not put (it) into the mind of Agamemnon to stir himself into action, and speedily to arouse the Achaeans. Then, he went his way by the huts and ships of the Achaeans, bearing his big purple cloak in his stout hand, and he stopped by Odysseus' huge black ship, which lay in the middle (of the line), so that a shout could be heard on both sides, both by the huts of Ajax, the son of Telamon, and by (those) of Achilles, for they had drawn up their well-balanced ships at the far ends, trusting in their prowess and the strength of their hands; then, he called aloud to the Danaans, shouting in a piercing voice: "(For) shame, (you) Argives, base reproaches (to your name that you are), admirable in appearance (only); where have (all) our boastful (statements) gone, when we said that we were the bravest (of men), (all) those vain-glorious (things) you said when (you were) in Lemnos (i.e. an island in the north-eastern Aegean), as you ate a great amount of meat from straight-horned cattle, and drank bowls brimming over with wine, (claiming) that each (man) would take his stand in battle against a hundred or two hundred Trojans? But now we are not even worthy (to face) one (of them), this Hector, who will soon set fire to our ships with blazing flame. Father Zeus, have you ever cursed any other great king with such a delusion and robbed him of his great reputation? But I can certainly say that I have never passed by any beautiful altar of yours while struggling (to get) here in my many-benched ship, but upon all (of them) I have burned the fat and the thighs of oxen in my eagerness to storm well-walled Troy. But Zeus, bring about this (one) desire of mine at least: just let us flee and escape, and not allow the Achaeans to be thus vanquished by the Trojans."

Ll. 245-291. Moved by Agamemnon's entreaty, Zeus sends the Greeks a favourable omen, and, encouraged by this, they begin to rally.

So he spoke, and the Father had pity on him as he was shedding tears, and he confirmed that his people should be safe and not destroyed. And, forthwith, he sent an eagle, the surest (omen) of (all) flying (creatures), holding in its talons a fawn, the offspring of a swift hind; it let the fawn fall beside the lovely altar of Zeus, (at the place) where the Achaeans used to make sacrifices to Zeus, the source of all omens. So, when they saw that the bird came from Zeus, they leapt upon the Trojans with more (vigour), and recalled the joys of battle. Then, not one of the Danaans, despite their being (so) numerous, could ever boast that he was ahead of the son of Tydeus in guiding his swift horses to cross over the ditch and to fight at close quarters. In fact, (he was) by far the first (to) slay an armed warrior of the Trojans, (namely) Agelaus, the son of Phradmon: he had turned his horses in flight, and, when he had turned around, he stuck his spear in his back between his shoulder-blades, and then drove (it) through his breast; then, he fell from his chariot and his armour clattered upon him. 

And after him (came) the sons of Atreus, Agamemnon and Menelaus, and after them the Aiantes, clothed in their fighting spirit, and after them Idomeneus and Idomeneus' comrade, Meriones, peer of manslaying Enyalius (i.e. Ares), and after them Eurypylus, Euaemon's splendid son; then came Teucer as the ninth (man), stretching his bent-back bow, and he took his stand beneath the shield of Ajax, son of Telamon; then Ajax would lift up his shield a little: and the hero would look searchingly around (him), and then shoot an arrow at a man in the throng and hit (him), and there the man would fall and lose his life, while he would go back again to Ajax, like a child keeps sinking into (the arms of) its mother; and he would cover him with his bright shield. 

Then, which one of the Trojans did the noble Teucer kill first? Orsilochus first, and (then) Ormenus, and Ophelestes, and Daetor, and Chromius, and godlike Lycophontes, and Amopaon, son of Polyaemon, and Melanippus - all (of these) one after the other he brought down to the nourishing earth. And Agamemnon, king of men, rejoiced when he saw him destroying the ranks of the Trojans (with the arrows) from his mighty bow; and he came and stood beside him, and addressed these words to him: "Teucer, (you) dear person, son of Telamon, captain of the host, keep on shooting like this, and you shall become (a source of) deliverance to the Danaans and (a source of joy) to your father Telamon, who reared you when you were young, and provided for you in his own house, even though you were a bastard; bring credit to him (now), even though he is far away. And I shall declare (something) to you, as it will certainly be brought to pass; if Zeus, who holds the aegis, and Athene shall grant me the sacking of the well-built citadel of Ilium, I shall place a gift of honour in your hands immediately after my own - either a tripod, or two horses with their chariot, or a woman who shall go up with you into a shared bed.

Ll. 292-334. Hector wounds Teucer.

Then, the noble Teucer spoke to him in answer: "Most glorious son of Atreus, why do you spur me on, when I am eager enough already on my own account? Let me tell you, I have not stopped (working) in so far as the strength is in me, but from (the time) when we drove them towards Ilium, from that (time onward), I lie in wait and slay the men. I have already dispatched eight long-pointed arrows, and all (of them) are lodged in the flesh of warriors swift in battle; but this mad dog (i.e. Hector) I cannot hit."

So he said, and shot another arrow from his string straight at Hector, and he longed in his heart to hit (him); him he missed, but he did strike peerless Gorgythion, the valiant son of Priam, in the chest with his arrow, (he) whom a mother, a bride from Aesyme, had born, (namely) lovely Castianeira,  in shape like unto a goddess. And he dropped his head to one side, like a poppy in a garden that (is) laden with fruit and (weighed down) by the dampness of spring; so his head sank to one side, depressed by (the weight of) his helmet.

Then, Teucer fired another arrow from his string straight at Hector, and he longed in his heart to strike him. But then he missed (him) again; for Apollo had caused (his arrow) to swerve; but he smote Archeptolemus, his brave charioteer, on the breast beside the nipple, as he was going eagerly into battle; he fell from the chariot, and the horses shied away from (him); and life and limb were lost to him forthwith. Then, dreadful sorrow for his charioteer engulfed the heart of Hector; but there he let him lie, despite his grieving for his companion, and he bade Cebriones, his brother, who was close at hand, take the horses' reins; and he heard (him) and did not disobey. And he, himself, leapt to the ground from his gleaming chariot and let out a terrible cry; and he took up a boulder in his hand, and went straight for Teucer, and his heart bade him strike (him). Now he had drawn a sharp arrow from his quiver, and laid it upon the string; but, even as he was pulling the bowstring past his (left) shoulder, Hector of the shining helmet struck him with the jagged stone (at the place) where the collar-bone separates the neck from the breast  - it is an especially critical (spot) - just as he was aiming his (arrow) at him;  then, his hand grew numb at the wrist, and he fell on his knees and stayed (in that position), and the bow fell from his hands. Now Ajax did not neglect his fallen brother, but ran around (him) and covered (him) with his shield. Then, two trusty comrades put him on their shoulders (lit. went beneath him), (namely) Mecisteus, son of Echius, and the godlike Alastor, and bore (him), groaning heavily, to the hollow ships.

Ll. 335-380.  While Hector drives the Greeks back to their ships, an angry Athene tells Hera how she will join the fight on their behalf. 

Then once again the Olympian (i.e. Zeus) aroused might in the (hearts of the) Trojans; and they drove the Achaeans straight towards the deep ditch; and Hector went among the foremost (of them), exulting in his strength. And, as when some hound pursues a wild boar or a lion with swift feet, and coming from behind it snatches at its flanks and buttocks, and watches closely as it wheels round (to attack), so Hector relentlessly pursued the long-haired Achaeans, constantly slaying the hindmost; and they fled in terror. But, when in their terror they had crossed both the stakes and the ditch, and many had been slain at the hands of the Trojans, then they halted beside their ships and (there) they stayed, and they called out to one another and each one held up his hands to all the gods and prayed aloud; and Hector wheeled his fair-maned horses to and fro, having eyes like those of the Gorgon or of Ares, bane of mortals.

Now, when she saw them, the white-armed goddess Hera felt pity (for them), and straightway spoke these winged words to Athene: "For shame, (you) child of Zeus who holds the aegis, are we no longer to be troubled in our minds that the Danaans are being killed, even at this late hour? Now they shall fulfil their fate and perish at the onslaught of a single man, (namely) Hector, the son of Priam, who is raging in a manner that is no longer tolerable, and already he has wreaked much havoc."

Then, the bright-eyed goddess Athene answered her: "If only he might lose his life and limb at the hands of the Argives and die in his native land; but my father, hard(-hearted as he is), rages on with his mind (fixed) on evil (things), a constant blight, the thwarter of my plans; and he has no memory at all of the very many occasions that I saved his son (i.e. Heracles), (when he was) exhausted by the challenges set by Eurystheus (i.e. the Twelve Labours). In truth, he kept crying out to heaven, (and) then Zeus sent me down from heaven to bring (him) succour. For, if I had known all this in the wisdom of my heart, when he sent him down to (the house of) Hades, the Warden of the Gate, to bring up from Erebus the dog of the loathsome Hades (i.e. Cerberus), he would not have escaped the rapid torrents of the waters of the Styx. But now he (i.e. Zeus) hates me, and has accomplished the designs of Thetis, who kissed his knees and clasped his chin in her hand, as she besought him to show honour to Achilles, sacker of cities. Verily, (the day) will come, when he shall call me his bright-eyed darling once again. But now do you harness our uncloven-hooved horses for us, while I shall enter the house of Zeus who holds the aegis and array myself in armour for battle, in order that I can see whether Priam's son, Hector of the shining helmet, will rejoice that we have appeared on the field of battle, or whether some Trojan too will glut the dogs and birds with his fat and flesh, when he has fallen by the ships of the Achaeans.

Ll. 381-424. Hera and Athene prepare to enter the field of battle, but Zeus sends Iris to warn them off. 

So she spoke, and the white-armed goddess Hera did not fail to comply. Hera, the august goddess, daughter of great Cronos, went around and bedecked the horses in their golden fillets; meanwhile, Athene, daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, let fall upon her father's floor her fine embroidered robe, which she herself had made and worked with her hands, and then she donned the tunic of cloud-gathering Zeus, and arrayed herself in her armour for tearful war. Then, she stepped into her fiery chariot, and grasped her heavy spear, huge (and) strong, with which she vanquishes the ranks of men, warriors against whom she, the daughter of a mighty father, bears a grudge. Then, Hera quickly flicked her horses with the whip, and the gates, which the Hours (i.e. the goddesses of the seasons) had in their keeping, creaked (upon their hinges) of their own accord, and to them are entrusted great heaven and Olympus, both to push aside the thick cloud or to impose (it). So, in this way, they steered their horses through (the gates).

But when father Zeus saw (them) from Ida, he became dreadfully angry, and exhorted the golden-winged Iris to take (them) a message: "Get up and go, swift Iris, turn (them) back, and do not let (them) come face to face (with me): for (it will) not (bode) well (for them if) we should clash in battle. For thus will I speak, and it shall certainly come to pass. I shall lame their swift horses beneath their chariot, and I shall hurl them from their car and break up their chariot; nor shall the wounds that a thunderbolt will deal (them) be healed in the space of ten revolving years; so may the bright-eyed (goddess) learn (what happens) when she fights with her own father. With Hera I am not so indignant or angry; for, whatever I may have said, she is always accustomed to defy me."

So he spoke, and storm-footed Iris was roused to deliver his message, and she went from the mountains of Ida to the heights of Olympus. And she met (them) at the outer gates of Olympus with its many valleys, and (there) she detained (them), and told them Zeus' words: "Where are you trying to go to? Why are your hearts pounding so madly in your breasts? The son of Cronos does not permit you to come to the aid of the Argives. For thus has the son of Cronos threatened, even as he will bring it about: (he says) he will lame your swift horses beneath your chariot, and you yourselves he will hurl from the car and then shatter your chariot into little pieces. And the wound that a thunderbolt will deal (you) will not be healed within the space of ten revolving years; so may you know, (you) of the flashing eyes, (what happens) when you do battle with your own father. With Hera, he is not so indignant or angry; for she is always accustomed to defy him, whatever he may have said; but you would indeed be dreadful (in your impudence), you shameless bitch, if you should really dare to raise your mighty spear against Zeus."

Ll. 425-468. The goddesses turn back, but their feelings of anger toward Zeus remain. 

So speaking, swift-footed Iris departed, but Hera spoke these words to Athene: "O fie! daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis, I can no longer allow that we two should fight against Zeus for the sake of mortals; let one of them die and another live, as it may befall (them); and he can keep his own intentions in his heart and judge between the Trojans and the Danaans, as (it is) right."

Having spoken thus, she turned back their uncloven-hooved horses; then, the Hours unyoked their fair-maned horses, and tethered them to their ambrosial mangers, and lent the chariot against the radiant inner walls (of the courtyard); then they took their seats on golden chairs amid the other gods with pain in their hearts.

Then, father Zeus drove his well-wheeled chariot and horses from Ida to Olympus, and came to the concourse of the gods. And the renowned Earthshaker (i.e. Poseidon) unyoked his horses and set his chariot on its stand with a cloth covering (it); and the far-seeing Zeus himself sat on his golden throne, and great Olympus quaked beneath his feet. Only Athene and Hera sat apart from Zeus, and they said nothing to him, nor did they ask (him) any questions; but he understood (them) in his mind and addressed (them thus): "Why pray, Athena and Hera, are you so pained? Surely you did not exhaust yourselves in glorifying battle, so as to destroy the Trojans, against whom you nurse such a terrible grievance. At all events, such (is) my strength and the invincibility of my hands, that all those gods that are in Olympus could not turn me. But as for you, trembling took hold of your glistening limbs long ago, before you saw war and war's grim deeds. For this will I speak, and it would certainly have come to pass; having been struck by a thunderbolt, you would not have come back in your own chariot to Olympus, where is the abode of the immortals."

So he spoke, and Athene and Hera muttered at his words; they were sitting close together and plotting bad (things) for the Trojans. To be sure, Athene was silent and said nothing; (she was) furious with her father Zeus and savage anger gripped her; but Hera's breast could not contain her anger, and she addressed (him thus): "Dread son of Cronus, what kind of words are you saying? Now we know well enough that your strength cannot be resisted; but all the same we do feel sorry for the Danaan spearmen, who will fulfil their wretched fate and die. But we shall surely keep away from the fighting, as you command; but we shall suggest counsel to the Argives, from which they will get some benefit, so that they will not all perish due to your wrath."

Ll. 469-511. Zeus tells Hera and Athene that Trojan successes will continue until Achilles returns to the fray; Hector begins to address his troops. 

Then, cloud-gathering Zeus spoke to her in answer: "In the morning, ox-eyed queenly Hera, you will see, if you are so minded, the son of Cronos, in all his exceedingly great power, destroying the numerous host of Argive spearmen; for mighty Hector will not ever cease from fighting until the swift-footed son of Peleus (i.e. Achilles) is roused to action beside his ships, on that day when they will fight by their sterns in the direst distress over (the body of) the dead Patroclus. For this is as fate decrees. But (as) for your anger I care not at all, not even if you should go to the lowest limits of earth and sea, where Iapetus (i.e. a Titan confined by Zeus, and the father of Prometheus) and Cronos sit, delighting neither in the beams of Hyperion Helios (i.e. the Sun) nor in any breezes, but deep Tartarus is all around (them); not even if you attain that spot in your wandering, am I in the least concerned by your anger, since (there is) nothing more shameless than you."

So he spoke, and white-armed Hera said nothing to him at all. Then, the bright light of the sun sank into the ocean, drawing black night over the fruitful corn-land. The daylight sinks against the will of the Trojans, but to the Achaeans dark night came upon them gladly welcomed three times over.

Then did glorious Hector arrange an assembly of the Trojans, leading (them) away from the ships on to an open space beside the swirling river (i.e. the Scamander), where the ground could be seen (to be) free of corpses. Stepping to the ground from their chariots, they listened to the words that Hector, beloved of Zeus, said (to them). In his hand he held a spear eleven cubits long; the bronze point of the spear gleamed before (him), and a golden band ran around (it). On it he leaned (as) he spoke these words to the Trojans: "Listen to me, (you) Trojans, and Dardanians, and allies; today I thought that I should go back to windy Ilium, having destroyed the Achaeans and all their ships. But before (that could happen) darkness came, (and it is that) that has now saved the Achaeans and their ships on the sea shore. So then for the present let us yield to black night and prepare our supper; so, free your fair-maned horses from your chariots, and throw down their fodder beside them; and bring oxen and sturdy sheep swiftly from the city, and take sweet wine and bread from your houses, and gather plenty of wood as well, so that all night long and until the early-born morning (comes), we may burn a host of fires, and their gleam may reach up to heaven, lest the long-haired Achaeans may perhaps try to escape over the sea's broad back.

Ll. 512-549. Hector's speech encourages the Trojans, who then prepare to eat.

"So, do not let them board their ships at their ease without a struggle, but let some of them nurse a wound at home, having been smitten either by an arrow or by a sharp-pointed spear as they leap on to their ship, so that any others may dread bringing tearful war against the horse-taming Trojans. And let heralds, beloved of Zeus, proclaim throughout the city that boys in the prime of their youth and grey-haired old men should gather on the god-built walls around the city; and let the women folk, each one in their houses, burn a great fire; and let there be a close watch, lest an armed band should enter the city in the absence of the host.

"So may it be, great-hearted Trojans, just as I say; let the words which I have spoken be good enough for the present, but I shall say some (more words) to (you) horse-taming Trojans in the morning. In my prayers to Zeus, and to the other gods I hope to drive away from here those doom-laden dogs, whom the fates have carried (here) in their black ships. But tonight we shall guard our own (positions), and early tomorrow morning, when arrayed in our armour, let us stir up sharp battle at the hollow ships. I shall know whether mighty Diomedes, the son of Tydeus, will drive (me) back from the ships to the wall, or whether I shall slay him with my bronze (spear) and carry off the gory spoils. Tomorrow he will demonstrate his valour, whether he can come and stand against my spear; but, when the sun rises tomorrow, I hope to see him lying wounded among the front ranks, and many of his comrades round about him. Would that I could be immortal and ageless for all time, and be honoured as Athene and Apollo are honoured; (if it were) so, this day would bring disaster to the Argives!"

So Hector addressed (the assembly), and the Trojans responded with applause.Then they released their sweating horses from the yoke, and tethered (them) with leather straps, each (man) beside his own chariot; and they brought oxen and sturdy sheep swiftly from the city, and they took sweet wine and bread from their houses, and gathered plenty of wood as well. [And to the immortals they offered hecatombs full in number,] and the winds carried the [sweet] savour (of the meat) up into the heavens; [but the blessed gods did not share any of it among themselves, nor did they wish to; for sacred Ilium, and Priam, and the people of Priam with his good ashen spear, were utterly hateful to them.]

Ll. 553-565. The Trojans spend the night encamped on the plain.

So they sat on the field of battle in high spirits all night long, and their numerous fires kept burning. And, as when the brilliant stars appear in the sky around the gleaming moon, and when the air becomes windless, so all the hill-tops, and sharp headlands and glens come into view, and clear (shafts of) light come bursting down from the sky, and all the stars are visible, and the shepherd is glad at heart. So did the many fires which the Trojans had lit between the ships and the streams of the Xanthus (i.e. the Scamander) appear before Ilium. So a thousand fires were burning in the plain, and beside each (one) there sat fifty (men) in the gleam of the blazing fire. And the horses stood beside their chariots, feeding on white barley and spelt, and awaiting the fair-throned dawn.

OVID: FASTI: BOOK V : MAY

Introduction:

For an introduction to the work of the "Fasti" as a whole, the reader is referred to Sabidius' translation of Book I (concerning January), which was published on this blog on 26th January 2020.

In Book V, Ovid continues his investigations into the religious ceremonies and festivals which marked the Roman calendar, and uses these explanations as an opportunity to recount a number of interesting and entertaining stories. This book begins with a debate between the Muses as to the origin of the name of May (ll. 1-110). Here, the Muses are divided into three groups: one group believes the name came from the goddess Maiestas (Majesty), the second from 'maiores', the name for elders or ancestors, and the third from the name of Mercury's Pleiad mother, Maia. Although Ovid does not manage to decide which etymological origin he prefers at this point, he makes it clear later  on, in ll. 427-428, that it is the second of these. In the first long section (ll. 183-378) the goddess Flora discusses her origin, the help she gives to Juno in the conception of Mars, and how she eventually received the award of annual games. The next notable section tells of the death and burial of Remus, and the associated rituals of the Lemuria (ll. 419-492), and this is followed by an account of Hyrius' hospitality to Jupiter, Neptune and Mercury, and the origin of the name of Orion and his courageous defence of Latona (ll. 493-544). Ll. 545-598 explain the origin of the temple of Mars Ultor; ll. 603-662 give an account of Jupiter's rape of Europa, the festival of the Argei, when straw effigies were thrown into the Tiber, and the end of human sacrifice in Rome; and ll. 663-692 an invocation of Mercury and a celebration of the rights of salesmen. Then, the appearance of the constellation of the Gemini leads to an account of the death of Castor and Pollux (ll. 693-720). 

The Latin text for this translation has been taken from "Ovid's Fasti", edited by Sir James George Frazer, Harvard University Press, published by William Heinemann, London (1933), which is available on the Perseus website, sponsored by the Classical Department of Tufts University. Sabidius has also made use of the translation and accompanying notes of "Ovid: Fasti", edited by A.J. Boyle and R.D. Woodward, Penguin Books (2000), and of the translation of the "Fasti" provided by A.S. Kline on his "Poetry in Translation" website.

Proem (vv. 1-110).

(a) Address to the reader (vv. 1-8).

You ask from where I think the month of May got its name? Its origin is not clearly enough know to me. As a traveller stands uncertain when he sees paths (going) in all directions, and does not know which (way) he ought to go, so I do not know which (way) to turn, since the possibility exists of citing different reasons, and this very abundance is confusing. Speak (you) (i.e. the Muses) who haunt the fountains of Aganippean Hippocrene, (i.e. fountains on Mount Helicon), those beloved tokens of Medusa's horse (i.e. Pegasus, from under whose hooves the Hippocrene fountain was believed to have sprung).  

(b) Dissension of the Muses (vv. 9-110). 

The goddesses are in conflict; of these, Polyhymnia (i.e. the Muse of sacred song) begins (to speak) first -  the rest are silent and carefully consider her words: "After Chaos, when the three elements (i.e. the sky, the land and the sea) were first given to the world, and the whole mass shifted into new forms, the earth sank under its own weight, and dragged the seas (down with it): but its lightness lifted the sky up to the highest regions; the sun and the stars too, not at all held back by their weight, and you, the horses of the moon, jumped out. But for a long time the earth did not yield to the sky, nor the rest of the stars to Phoebus (i.e. the sun): all were equal in rank. Some god from the common crowd frequently dared to sit on the throne that you occupied, Saturn: not one new god sat by the side of Oceanus, and Themis was often relegated to the lowest place, until Honour and fair Reverence with her kindly face placed their bodies in a proper marriage-bed. From them Majesty (was) born; the goddess enrolled her parents and was mighty on the day on which she was brought to birth. At once she sat in gold on high in the midst of Olympus, conspicuous in her purple robe; Shame and Fear sat with her. You could see that all the gods had modelled their expressions on hers. At once, respect for rank entered their minds: a reward is paid to the worthy, and no one is pleased with himself. This state of affairs lasted for many years in heaven, till the elder god (i.e. Saturn) is knocked out of the citadel (i.e. Olympus) by fate. Earth bore the Giants, a fierce brood of savage monsters, who would dare to attack the house of Jupiter. She gave them a thousand hands, and serpents instead of legs, and she said, "Take up arms against the mighty gods." They set about piling up mountains to (reach) the highest stars, and harried Jupiter in mighty warfare; Jupiter hurled his thunderbolts from heaven's citadel, and overturned the vast mass upon its creators. Well protected by these weapons of the gods, Majesty survives, and from that time (forth) she continues to be worshipped. From then she sits beside Jupiter, (and) is Jupiter's most loyal guardian, and she wields Jupiter's dread sceptre without force. She came to earth as well: Romulus and Numa worshipped her, then the others, each in his own time. She holds fathers and mothers in due respect, (and) she comes (as) the companion of boys and maidens; she gives, and commits to her care, the ivory (chair) of office, and she soars in triumph on her garlanded horses." Polyhymnia finished speaking; both Clio (i.e. the Muse of history) and Thalia (i.e. the Muse of comedy), the mistress of the curved lyre, approved her words. 

Urania (i.e. the Muse of astronomy) comes next: all (the others) kept silent, and no voice could be heard except hers. "At one time there was great reverence for a head of white (hair), and the wrinkles of old age were (valued) at their true worth. The young waged the work of war and spirited battles, and stayed at their posts for the sake of the gods. Those (of older age who were) weaker in strength and unfit to bear arms, often did their country a service through their counsel; at that time the senate was not open (to anyone) except (those) in their later years, and the senate has a name (which means) mature in age. The elders gave the people laws, and the age when office could be sought was defined by specific bills, and they walked in the midst of the young without their feeling any resentment, and on the inside, if they had only one companion. Who would dare to speak words worthy of shame in the presence of an elder? Old age gave (the right of) censorship. Romulus saw this, and called these select souls 'Fathers': the most important (matters) of the new city (were) referred to them. (So) from this I deduce that the elders assigned their name to May, and took account of the interests (of those) of their own age. Numitor, too, may have said, "Grant this month to the elders, Romulus," and the grandson could not have withstood his grandfather. The following month of June provides no mean proof of the honour intended by the name of young men (i.e. 'iuniores)." 

Then, Calliope (i.e. the Muse of epic poetry), the first of her group, with her hair unkempt and wreathed with ivy, began (to speak): A long time ago, Oceanus, who encircles the earth with his flowing waters, by which it is made accessible, married Titan Tethys; then, their daughter Pleione is united with sky-bearing Atlas, as the story goes, and bears the Pleiads. Of these, Maia is said to have surpassed her sisters in beauty, and to have slept with mighty Jupiter. On the summit of cypress-growing Cyllene (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia) she gave birth to (the one) who makes his journey through the air on winged feet (i.e. Mercury); the Arcadians and fast-flowing Ladon (i.e. an Arcadian river) and vast Maenalus (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia), a land thought (to be) older than the moon, duly worship him. The exile Evander came from Arcadia to the fields of Latium, and brought (with him) the gods which he had put aboard (his ship). Here (in the place) where Rome, the capital of the world, now is, there were trees and grass, and a few cattle and the odd hut. When they arrived there, his prophetic mother (i.e. Carmenta) said. "Stop (here), for this (piece of) country will be the place of empire." The Nonacrian (i.e. Arcadian) hero obeys his mother, the prophetess, and (there) he stayed, a guest on foreign soil. He certainly taught its tribes many sacred rites, but those of the two-horned Faunus and the wing-footed god (i.e. Mercury) first of all. Half-goat Faunus, you are worshipped by the Luperci in their loin-cloths, when their goat-skin thongs purify the crowded streets. But you, inventor of the curved lyre (and) patron of thieves, gave the month your mother's name (i.e. Maia). Nor is this your first (act of) piety: you are thought to have given the lyre seven strings, the number of the Pleiads." She, too, had come to an end: she is applauded by her (sisters') voices. What shall I do? Each part of the troop has the same (number). May the favour of the Pierides (i.e. the Muses) attend me equally, and may none (of them) be praised by me either more or less.  

May 1: Kalends: Floralia: Ludi: Fastus (vv. 111-158).

(The Floralia was the festival of the Goddess Flora, patron of flowers and of the spring. Lasting for six days, from 28th April to 3rd May, it began with theatrical performances and climaxed with full-blown games, held under the purview of the plebeian aediles. Subsequently, prostitutes claimed Flora as their patron, and celebrated her festival with gusto. Hares and goats were let loose in the Circus Maximus prior to the games; they were both notorious symbols of fertility and were associated with cultivated vegetation, as opposed to wild woodlands. Beans and lupins, also symbols of fertility, were thrown to the crowd at the Floralia. Wild-coloured clothing was worn at the festival.)

May 1st was also sacred to the Goddess Maia, who was often associated with the Earth-Goddess Terra. The flamen Volcanalis, the priest of Vulcan, sacrificed a pregnant sow to her.

Furthermore, May 1st was sacred to Bona Dea, the 'Good Goddess'. This was the anniversary of the dedication of her temple on the Aventine. The ritual was celebrated only by women; men were excluded. Wine, referred to as 'milk', was carried into her temple in a honey-pot. The head of the statue of Bona Dea was covered in vine-leaves, and a sow was sacrificed to her. The sow was referred to as the Damium, the priestess was called the Damniatrix, and the Goddess herself was sometimes called Damia - she was also associated with Fauna. Healing herbs of all sorts were kept in her temple, as were snakes, animals closely associated with healing. 

The celebration of the Lares Praestites, or Lares Publici, also occurred on May 1st. These were the Lares who looked after the State as a whole, as opposed to the Lares Familiares, who looked after the individual family.) 

Let the work arise from Jupiter: I can see the star that tended Jupiter's cradle: the rainy star-sign of Olenian Capella (i.e. this star, the She-Goat is the brightest star in the constellation of Auriga, the Charioteer; the epithet Olenian comes from Olenus, the son of Hephaestus, whose daughter Amalthea had a goat that suckled the infant Jupiter) is rising; heaven is her reward for giving milk. The nymph Amalthea, famous on Cretan Ida, is said to have hidden Jupiter in the woods. She owned the lovely mother of two kid-goats, deservedly conspicuous amongst Dicte's flocks, with her lofty horns curved over her back, with an udder which Jupiter's nurse should have. She gave the god milk, but broke her horn on a tree, and was (thus) stripped of a half part of her charm. The nymph picked it up and wrapped (it) in fresh herbs, and took (it) full of fruit to Jupiter's lips. When he controlled the affairs of the sky and sat on his father's throne, and nothing was greater than unconquered Jupiter, he made stars of his nurse (i.e. the Capella) and his nurse's fruitful horn, which even now keeps the name of its mistress (i.e. the 'Cornucopia', the Horn of Plenty).

The Kalends of May saw an altar dedicated to the Guardian Lares, and its small statues of the gods: in fact, Curius (i.e. Manius Curius Dentatus, consul in 290 B.C.) had vowed them, but great age destroys many (things); a lengthy old age even wears away stone. But the cause of the name which had been attached to them is that they keep a safe watch over everything with their eyes: and they support us and protect our City walls, and they are propitious and bring (us) help. Now a dog, made from the same stone, stood before their feet: what was the reason for its standing with the Lar? Both of them guard the house, both of them, too, (are) loyal to their master. Crossroads (are) dear to the god, crossroads (are) dear to the dog. Both the Lar and Diana's pack (of hounds) drive away thieves: the Lares keep watch at night, and the dogs keep watch at night. I looked for the two statues of the twin gods (i.e. the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, with whose image the Guardian Lares became identified), caused to topple by the force of a long space of time: the City has numerous Lares and the Genius of our leader, who delivered them, and the wards worship the three deities (i.e. each of the City's thirty wards had images of two Lares and an image of Augustus' Genius set up at an altar by one of their crossroads).

Where am I drifting to? The month of Augustus will give that theme to this song of mine (n.b. unfortunately he never wrote about August): in the meantime, I must sing of the Good Goddess. There is a natural pile (of stone); the thing gave its name to the place (i.e. the Aventine Hill). They call (it) the Rock, (and) it is a good part of the hill. There Remus stood in vain at the time when you, the birds of the Palatine, gave your first omens to his brother. There the fathers built a temple, averse to the gaze of men, on a gently sloping ridge. An heiress of the ancient name of the Crassi, who had allowed no man to touch her virgin's body, dedicates it (i.e. Licinia, a Vestal Virgin, dedicated a shrine on the Aventine in 123 B.C.): Livia restored (it), so that she could imitate her husband, and follow her man in all respects.

May 2: Floralia: Ludi: Fastus (vv. 159-378).

When the daughter of Hyperion (i.e. Aurora, the dawn) shall next expel the stars and lift her rosy lamp on the morning's horses, a chill north-westerly wind will caress the tips of the ears of corn, and white sails will be unfurled in Calabrian waters. But, as soon as the darkening twilight brings on the night, no part of the whole flock of the Hyades (i.e. a group of seven stars within the constellation of 'Taurus', the Bull) is concealed. Taurus' face gleams, lit up, (as it is,) by seven flames that Greek sailors call the Hyades from (their word for) rain; some think they nursed Bacchus, others believed them to be the granddaughters of Tethys and old Oceanus. Atlas was not yet standing (there), with his shoulders weighed down by Olympus, when Hyas, conspicuous for his beauty, was born: Aethra, the daughter of Oceanus gave birth to him and the nymphs, but Hyas (was) born first. When the down is fresh on his cheeks, he scares (away) the frightened deer in their terror, and the hare is welcome prey to him: but, when his courage has grown with the years, he dares to go up against boars and shaggy lionesses at close quarters; and, while he seeks the lair and the cubs of a newly-delivered lioness, he himself became the bloody prey of the Libyan beast. His mother wept for Hyas, and his sorrowful sisters too, and (also) Atlas, whose neck was about to be put beneath the sky, but both parents were surpassed (in sorrow) by the pious love of his sisters: it won (them) the heavens and Hyas gave (them) their names (i.e. the Hyades). 

"Be present, mother of the flowers (i.e. Flora), honoured, (as you are,) by playful games: last month I postponed (celebrating) your role. You begin in April and cross into the time-span of May: one (month) has you as she departs, the other (has you) when she comes. Since the boundaries of the months are yours  and defer to you, one or the other is suited to your praises. The Circus (games) and the theatre's lauded palm spring up in the latter (month); let my song and the shows of the Circus also (accompany) it. Teach (me) yourself who you are: the opinions of men are in error; you will be the best source for your name."

So I (spoke); so the goddess replies to my questions - while she speaks, she breathes out spring roses from her mouth: "I, who am (now) called Flora, was (once called) Chloris: the (first) Greek letter of my name has been corrupted by the Latin language. I was Chloris, a nymph of those happy fields where you hear there was once a society of fortunate people. The beauty, which I had, it is hard to speak of with modesty; but it brought my mother a god as a son-in-law. It was spring, I was wandering; Zephyrus (i.e. the west wind) caught sight of me, I went away; he pursues (me), I flee: he was the stronger. Now Boreas (i.e. the north wind) had given his brother every authority for rape, by daring to take a prize (i.e. his daughter Orithyia) from the house of Erechtheus (i.e. the legendary king of Athens). Yet, he (i.e. Zephyrus) makes amends for his violent (act) by giving me the name of bride, and in his bed I have no (cause for) complaint. I enjoy a perpetual spring, the season is always shining most brightly, the trees have leaves, and the ground always (gives) fodder. I have a fruitful garden in the fields that were my dowry; a breeze fans (it), (and) it is moistened by a fountain of flowing water. My husband has kept it full of flowers of the finest kinds, and says, 'You must take charge of the flowers, goddess.' I often wanted to keep a tally of the colours set out (there), but I couldn't: (for) their abundance was greater than any number. As soon as the dewy frost is shaken from the leaves, and the various flowers have been warmed by the rays (of the sun), the Hours assemble, dressed in colourful clothes, and collect my gifts in their slender wicker baskets; the Graces at once draw near, and bind wreaths and garlands to envelop their heavenly hair. I was the first to scatter fresh seeds among countless peoples: until then, the earth had only a single colour; I was the first to create a flower from Therapnean blood (i.e. that of Hyacinthus, a Spartan youth beloved by Apollo and turned by him into a flower of the same name; Therapne was a Laconian town about a mile from Sparta) and the lament remains inscribed on its petals (i.e. the Greek letters AI, AI, alas, alas, a naturally occurring pattern on its petals). You too, Narcissus, have your name in cultivated gardens, unhappy that you were not someone else and (yet) you were someone else (i.e. that he and his reflection were not different persons). Why should I tell of Crocus, (i.e. the lover of Smilax turned into the crocus flower) or Attis (i.e. the lover of Cybele turned into a pine-tree), or the son of Cinyrus (i.e. Adonis, the lover of Venus, turned into an anemone), from whose wounds beauty springs through me?

"Mars also, if you are unaware (of it), (was) brought to birth through my arts: sacred Juno, when Minerva was born without a mother (i.e. she sprang right from the head of Jupiter), grieved that Jupiter had no need for her services. She went to complain to Oceanus about her husband's deeds; exhausted by her efforts, she stopped at my door. As soon as I saw her, I asked, "What has brought you (here), daughter of Saturn?" She tells (me) the destination that she is seeking; and added the reason (for her visit). I consoled her with friendly words. 'My anxiety cannot be lightened by words,' she says. 'If Jupiter can become a father, while overlooking the need for a wife, and alone possesses the title of both (functions), why should I worry about becoming a mother without a husband, and, provided that (I am) chaste, give birth, untouched by a male? I shall try all the drugs in the (whole) wide world, and examine the seas and bays of Tartarus.' Her voice was in full flow; but she had the face of (someone) in doubt. 'Nymph, you look like someone who can (help me),' she says. Three times I wanted to promise my help, three times my tongue was tied: mighty Jupiter's anger was the cause of my fear. 'Give (me) your assistance,' she said; 'its source will be concealed, and the spirit of the River Styx testifies to this (i.e. no god dared to break an oath sworn on such a basis).' 'A flower, sent to me from the fields of Olenus (i.e. a town in Achaea), will give (you) what you are looking for: it is unique to my gardens. (The person) who sent (it) said, "Just touch a barren cow with this; she will be a mother." Without delay, I touched (one), she was a mother.' At once, I plucked the clinging flower with my thumb; she (i.e. Juno) is touched, and, as it touched her breast, she conceives. And pregnant now, she enters Thrace and the western (shores) of the Propontis (i.e. the Sea of Marmora), and the fulfilment of her wish occurs, and Mars was born. Mindful that his birth (had been) brought about through me, he said, 'You, too, must have a place in the city of Romulus.'

"Perhaps, you think that my rule is only over tender garlands. (However,) my divine power extends over the fields as well. If the crops flower well, the threshing-floor will be rich (in corn); if the vines flower well, there will be wine; if the olives flower well, the year will shine brightly, and the fruit has its yield at the right time. Once their bloom is damaged, vetches and beans die, and your lentils die too, alien Nile. Wines also bloom, if painstakingly stored in great cellars, and filmy vapours cover the surface of the vats. Honey is my gift: I summon the winged honey-makers (i.e. the bees) to violets, clover and pale thyme. We also do the same (thing), at the time when, in our youthful years, our spirits run riot and our bodies are themselves thriving."

As she spoke these words, I looked at (her) in silent admiration. "But," she says, "whatever you ask, you have the right to receive an answer." "Tell (me), goddess," I replied, "what is the origin of the games." Well, I had scarcely stopped speaking, (when) she answered me: "Other types of luxury were not yet flourishing. The rich (man) owned cattle or broad (tracts of) land. From this source too are named (the words for) wealthy (i.e. 'locuples', from 'locus plenus', full of land) and (for) money (i.e. 'pecunia' from 'pecus', cattle) as well. But some were already obtaining their wealth from a forbidden (source). It had become the custom to use the people's pastures for grazing, and for a long time this was permitted and there was no penalty (for doing so); and it had now become foolish to graze (one's cattle) on private (land). This licence was brought to the attention of the plebeian aediles, the Publicii (i.e. Lucius and Manlius Publicii Malleoli, plebeian aediles in 240 B.C.). Previously, men had lacked courage. (But now), the people recover their rights, (and) the guilty were heavily fined, and there was a public desire for their champions to be praised. Much of the fine was awarded to me, and the victors set up new games amid laud applause (i.e. the Floralia were first held in 238 B.C.). Part (of the fine) they invest in a slope, which was then hard rock; now it is a useful road, and they call (it) the Publician (Way).    

I thought that the shows (had been) made annual: she denied (it), and added other words to her speech: "Honour affects us too: we delight in festivals and altars; we divine (beings) are a conceited bunch. Often a man had made the gods hostile (to him) by his sinning, and a flattering sacrifice was (offered) for his offences. I have often seen Jupiter, when he was already minded to hurl his thunderbolts, restrain his hand when incense was offered (to him). But, if we are neglected, the injury is paid for by heavy punishment, and our anger exceeds just limits. Remember the grandson of Thestius (i.e. Meleager): he is consumed by distant flames (i.e. the unburned brand thrown into the fire by his mother Althaea, because Meleager had killed her brothers); the reason is because Phoebe's (i.e. Diana's) altar was lacking fire. Remember the descendant of Tantalus (i.e. Agamemnon): the same goddess had becalmed his sails (i.e at Aulis, when the Greek fleet was delayed from setting sail for Troy); she (i.e. Diana) is a virgin, and yet she has twice avenged her spurned hearths. Luckless Hippolytus, you wished you had worshipped Dione (i.e. Venus) when you were torn asunder by your terrified horses (i.e. Hippolytus, the son of Theseus, was punished by Neptune, because he had been falsely accused by his step-mother Phaedra of having an incestuous affair with her; Phaedra had been bewitched into falling in love with Hippolytus by Venus, who was jealous of his devotion to Diana). It would take (too) long a time to tell of (how) neglect was punished by loss: the Roman Fathers even neglected me (i.e. by  not establishing the Floral games as an annual event). What was I to do? How was I going to make clear my dismay? What sort of punishment should I exact for this insult to me? In my sadness, my duty was forgotten: I protected no part of the countryside, nor was my fruitful garden cared for; the lilies had fallen, you could see the violets were parched, and the petals of the purple crocus (were) made to droop. Zephyrus often said to me, "Do not destroy your dowry": (but) to me my dowry was worthless. The olives were in bloom, (but) wanton winds damaged (them); the cornfields were flowering, (but) the crops were struck by hailstorms; the vines were a source of hope, but the sky is blackened by southerly winds and the leaves are ravaged by sudden rain. I did not want (this) to happen, nor am I cruel in my anger: but I had no concern to repel (these ills). The senate met, and vows an annual festival to my godhead. I assent to the vow: the consul Laenas (i.e. Marcus Popillius Laenas) and the consul Postumius (i.e. Lucius Postumius Albinus) arranged games for me (i.e. the senate decided that the games of the Floralia should be celebrated annually in 173 B.C.). 

I ventured to ask why there was greater lewdness and freer jests in these shows; but it occurs to me that the goddess is not strict, and that the goddess brings gifts (that are) suited to our pleasures. The whole of our brows are encircled with crowns (made of rose petals) sown (together), and our glittering tables lie hidden under showers of roses; the inebriated guest dances with his hair bound with the inner bark of the lime-tree, and is unwisely prompted by the artifice of wine; the tipsy (lover) sings at the harsh threshold of his lovely friend, (and) soft garlands crown his oiled hair. Nothing serious is conducted with a garlanded brow, nor is pure water drunk by (those who are) bound with flowers; while you, Achelous (i.e. the river that separated Aetolia from Acarnania, but used here as a synonym for pure water), were mixed with no grapes, there was no attraction at all in gathering roses.
Bacchus loves flowers. You can be sure that the wreath from Ariadne's constellation (i.e. the 'Borealis Corona', the constellation of the Crown) has brought pleasure to Bacchus. Light theatre suits her: she has never, believe me, (she) has never, been counted among the tragic goddesses (i.e. those such as Diana and Minerva). Indeed, the reason why a crowd of whores should celebrate these games is not hard to find. She is not severe, nor is she (one) of (those) who consider herself (to be) above others. She wants her rites to be open to the plebeian band, and warns (us) to enjoy life's beauty, while it is in bloom (i.e. during the bloom of youth); (it is said) that the thorn is spurned when the roses have fallen.

Yet, why, when white robes are worn at Ceres' festival (i.e. the 'Cerealia', on 12th-19th April), is she so suited to multi-coloured dress? (Is it) because the harvest is whitened by ripe ears of corn, but there is every colour and feature in flowers? She nodded, and flowers fell from her flowing hair, like roses usually fall when dropped on to tables. There (still) remained the lights, the reason for which was eluding me, when she removed my uncertainty with the following words: "Lights are thought to suit my festival, either because the fields are glowing with bright coloured flowers, or because neither flower nor flame is dull in colour, and the splendour of both draws the eye towards them, or because nocturnal licence best suits my pleasures: the third reason come (close) to the truth." "There is, in addition, (one) little (matter), about which it remains for me to ask, if I am allowed (to do so)," I said. And she said, "You are allowed to." "Why are peaceful roes and timorous hares caught in your nets, instead of Libyan lionesses?" She replied that forests did not belong to her, but gardens and fields, which no aggressive wild beasts could enter, (did).

She (i.e. Flora) had completely finished speaking: (then) she vanished into thin air; yet her fragrance lingered; you could tell that a goddess had been present. Bestrew my breast with your gifts, I beg (you), so that the song of Naso (i.e. Ovid's cognomen), may flourish for all time.

May 3: Floralia: Ludi in Circo: Comitialis (vv. 379-414).

In less than four nights' (time), Chiron, that half-man joined to the body of a tawny horse will reveal his stars (i.e. the rising of the constellation 'Centaurus'). Pelion, a mountain in Haemonia (i.e. Thessaly) is facing the south winds: its summit is green with pine-trees, (and) oaks are in possesion of the rest (of it). Philyra's son (i.e. Chiron) was its master; (on it) there stands a cave of ancient rock, which they say the old man inhabited. He is believed to have occupied in lyric music those hands that would one day send Hector to his death (i.e. the hands of Achilles). The grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) arrived, with part of his labours completed, and only the final tasks remained for the hero (to undertake). By chance, you could have seen Troy's twin fates standing together: here was the grandson of Aeacus (i.e. Achilles) and there was the son of Jupiter (i.e. Hercules). The heroic son of Philyra offers the young man hospitality, and he asks the reason for his coming; he is told. Meanwhile, he gazes at his club and lion-skin, and says, "The man (is worthy) of these weapons, and these weapons are worthy of the man!" Nor could the hands of Achilles restrain themselves from venturing to touch that pelt (so) shaggy with bristles. Then, while the old man fingers the shafts, squalid, (as they are,) with poison, an arrow falls out, and is stuck in his left foot. Chiron groaned and drew the iron from his body. The grandson of Alceus and the Haemonian boy (i.e. Achilles) groan as well. But he himself picks herbs from the hills around Pagasaea (i.e. the port city of Thessaly) and blends (them) properly and soothes the wound with various treatments; (but) the gnawing venom overcame this treatment and the sickness penetrated deep into his bones and the whole of his body: the blood of the Lernean Hydra (i.e. the multi-headed swamp serpent, which Hercules had killed in the second of his Twelve Labours) mingled with the blood of the Centaur and gave no opportunity for him to be helped. Achilles stood, drenched in tears, as if (he were) before his father: Peleus, if he were dying, would have been thus mourned. He frequently stroked his frail hands with his loving hands: the teacher has his reward for the character he had formed. He gave (him) frequent kisses, and also said (to him) often as he lay (there), "Live, I beg (you), and do not leave me, dear father." The ninth day came when your body, righteous Chiron, was wrapped in fourteen stars.

May 5: Comitialis (vv. 415-416).

Curved Lyra (i.e. another constellation) would wish to follow him, but the path is not yet ready: the third night will be the right time (i.e. for it to rise).

May 6: Comitialis (vv. 417-418).

When we say that the Nones will dawn tomorrow, (the constellation of) Scorpio in its middle parts will be visible.

May 9: Lemuria: Nefastus (vv. 419-492).

(May 9, 11 and 13: the Lemuria was held on odd-numbered days because even-numbered days were considered unlucky. It was a festival designed to honor the 'lemures', that were regarded as baleful spirits of the dead who died violent or otherwise untimely deaths. At midnight, the Paterfamilias arose and dressed with no knots, buckles, or other constricting items on his person; thus he was barefoot. He made the sign of the 'mano fico' with his hands - a fist with the thumb placed between the index and middle fingers, it was considered a sign of good luck and fertility - and he then washed his hands in pure water. He then walked through the house, spitting out nine black beans, being careful not to look behind him, as the lemures accept the beans as a sort of ransom for the living members of the household. As he spits out each one, he says "With these beans I redeem me and mine." Once all nine beans have been accepted by the lemures and the entire house walked through, the Paterfamilias then washed his hands again, clashed two vessels of bronze together, and said nine times: "Ancestral spirits, be gone." ["Manes exite paternae."] In addition, there were public ceremonies of a similar nature, designed to cleanse the State as a whole as the household was cleansed.)

When Hesperus (i.e. the Evening Star) has displayed his lovely face three times after this, and the conquered stars give way to Phoebus (i.e. the sun), your ancient sacred rites will be (performed), nocturnal Lemuria: these will give sacrificial offerings to the silent spirits of the dead. The year was (once) shorter, and the pious rites of purification (i.e. the 'februa') were still unknown, nor were you, two-shaped Janus the leader of the months: yet they still brought their gifts to the ashes of the dead, and the grandson honoured the pyre of his buried grandfather. It was the month of May, called by the name of our ancestors (i.e. 'maiores'), and even now it shows respect for our old custom. Now, when it is midnight and silence brings sleep and you dogs and you birds of all kinds are hushed, he (who is) mindful of the ancient rites and fearful of the gods arises - his two feet have no fetters (i.e. shoes) - , and gives the sign with his thumb between joined fingers (i.e. the sign of the 'mano fico'), lest some insubstantial shade should meet him in the silence. Then, when he has washed his hands clean with spring water, he turns around and takes up some black beans, (which are) in front of (him), and casts (them) down behind (him); but, while he throws (them), he says, "I release these, and with these beans I redeem both myself and my (family)" (i.e. from having their house haunted by the lemures). He says this nine times, and he does not look back: the shade is thought to collect (them) and to follow behind quite unseen. Once more he touches the water, and beats his (implements) of Temesan bronze (i.e. Temesa was a district of  Bruttium renowned for its copper mines), and asks the shade to leave his house. When he has cried, "Ancestral spirits be gone!" nine times, he looks back and thinks that the rite has been properly performed. Why the day is so called, and the source of its name, escapes me. Some god must discover (it). Son of the Pleiad (i.e. Mercury), worthy of veneration for your potent rod (i.e. his 'caduceus'), advise (me): you have often seen the court of the Stygian Jupiter (i.e. Pluto). In answer to my entreaty, the Staff-Bearer (i.e. Mercury) came. Hear the cause of the name: the cause was learned from the god himself. When Romulus had buried his brother's spirits in the grave, and paid his dues to the over-hasty Remus, unhappy Faustulus and Acca, with her streaming hair (i.e. his foster-parents), watered his charred bones with their tears; then they return home grieving at early twilight, and flung themselves down on their couch, hard as it was. The blood-stained ghost of Remus seemed to be standing by their bed, and to speak these words in a low murmur: "See, I (who am) half and the second part of your prayers, see what I am and what I was just a short time ago! If only I had had birds that order kingdoms, I could have been the greatest (man) among my people, but now I am an empty phantom, gliding away from the flames of my pyre: this is the remaining shape of that Remus. Alas, where is my father, Mars? If you just spoke the truth, he (it was who) gave (us) an  animal's teats (when we were) exposed. A citizen's reckless hand killed that (man) whom a wolf had saved. O how much gentler she was! Savage Celer, may you atone for the cruelty of your life, and may you sink beneath the earth gushing with blood. My brother did not want this; his piety is equal to mine: he gave what he could, tears for my fate. Implore him by your tears (and) by our (shared) nurturing to assign a day of celebration in my honour." As he commissions (them), they (i.e. Faustulus and Acca) yearn to embrace (him), and they stretch out their arms (to him): (but) the fleeting shade escapes their hands. When the fleeing phantom takes away their sleep with him, they both report his brother's words to the king. Romulus complies, and calls that day on which our buried ancestors receive their due the 'Remuria'. After a long time that rough letter, which was the first in the name as a whole, was altered to a soft (one); soon too they called the souls of the silent (ones) 'lemures': that (was) the meaning of the word, that was the force of its sound. Now the ancients closed their temples on those days (i.e. the 9th, 11th and 13th May), as you now see them closed on the day of the dead (i.e. the 'Feralia' on 21st February); the same days (are) not (considered) suitable for the weddings of widows and virgins: (anyone) who got married (on them) was not long-lived. For this reason too, if proverbs attract you, people say that unlucky (women) marry in the month of May. But yet, (while) these three feast-days occur at the same (period of) time, on no day (are they) mutually consecutive.     

May 11: Lemuria: Nefastus (vv. 493-544).

(May 11th was also sacred to Mania, a Goddess of Death and mother of the Lares. When a family was threatened with danger, they often hung effigies of Mania from the front door of the house. On this day she received sacrifices of these images, characterized by small ugly faces.)

If you seek Boeotian Orion in the middle (one) of these (three days), you will be mistaken: I should sing of the cause of this constellation. Jupiter and his brother, who reigns in the broad sea (i.e. Neptune) were travelling along the road in the company of Mercury; it was the time when the upturned plough is returned by the yoked (oxen), and the lamb kneels to drink the milk of the saturated ewe. Old Hyrieus, the farmer of a narrow plot (of land), happens to see them as he stood in the front of his meagre cottage, and he spoke (to them) thus: "The road is long, but there is no long time left (to the day), and my door is open to strangers." And he reinforced his words with a look, and asked (them) once more: they accept his offer, and conceal their divine (status). They enter beneath the old man's roof, filthy with black smoke (as it is); there was (still) a flicker of fire in yesterday's log: on bended knee, he fans the flames with his breath, and brings out some broken fire-brands and chops (them) up. Some cooking pots stand (there): the smaller of these held beans, the other (one) vegetables, and each of them foams under the pressure of its lid. And, while there is a delay, he pours red wine with a trembling hand: the sea god accepts the first cup. As soon as he had drained it, he said, "Now give Jupiter the next drink." When he heard (the name of) Jupiter, he turned pale. When his wits returned, he sacrifices the ox which tills his poor soil, and roasts (it) on a great fire; then, he brings forth some wine stored in smoky jars, which as a boy in his early years he had once laid up. At once they reclined on couches, concealing the river sedge (of which they were made) by a linen (covering). The table glittered, now with food, now with (the juice) of Lyaeus (i.e. Bacchus, wine); the bowl (was) earthen red, (and) the cups were (made) of beech-wood. Jupiter's words were (as follows): "If you have a desire for anything, ask (for it): you will receive (it) all." These were the words of the gentle old man: "I had a dear wife, whom I knew in the spring of my early youth. Where is she now, you ask? An urn conceals (her ashes). I have sworn her an oath, with you called (as witness) to my words: "You alone," I said, "will be my wife." I said (that) and I keep (my word); but actually I now have a different wish: I don't want to be a husband, but a father." They all nodded. They all stood by the hide of the ox - I am ashamed to say anything further (i.e. because the gods urinated on the ox-hide). Then they covered the sodden hide with earth; and now ten months have passed and a boy has been born. Hyrieus calls him Urion, because of the way in which he was conceived: the first letter (then) lost its original sound. He grew huge: Delia (i.e. Diana) took him (as) her companion; he (was) the goddess's guardian, he was her attendant. Careless words excite the anger of the gods: he said, "There is no wild creature that I cannot overcome." Earth dispatched a scorpion: it had an impulse to sting the twin-bearing goddess (i.e. Latona, mother of Apollo and Diana) with its hooked claws. Orion blocked its path. Latona puts (him) among the shining stars, and said "Receive this reward for your services."

May 12: Ludi Martis in Circo: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 545-598).

But why are Orion and the other stars rushing to leave the heavens, and (why) is night contracting its course? Why does the bright day, with Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) preceding (it) as usual, lift its beam so quickly from the flowing sea? Am I deceived, or are there arms clanging? (No,) I am not deceived, arms are clanging: Mars comes, and, as he comes, he gives the signs of war. The Avenger, himself, descends from heaven to view his honours and his temple in the Augustan Forum (i.e. the temple of Mars Ultor in the Augustan Forum was dedicated by Augustus in 2 B.C.). Both the god and the work are massive: Mars should not be otherwise housed in his son's city. This shrine is worthy of trophies (won) from the Giants: from it Gradivus (i.e. Mars in his capacity as the Marching God) properly initiates deadly wars, whether anyone from the eastern world impiously provokes (us), or if anyone from the setting sun (i.e. from the lands to the west) should be tamed (by us). The Lord of Arms (i.e. Mars) views the gables on top of the building and approves the unconquered goddesses occupying its summit; he examines the weapons of different types on the doors, and the earth's arms conquered by his troops. Here he sees Aeneas, burdened by a beloved weight (i.e. his father Anchises, whom he carries on his shoulders) and many an ancestor of noble Julian (blood); there he sees the son of Ilia (i.e. Romulus), bearing a chieftain's armour on his shoulders (i.e. the armour of Acron, king of Caenina, the origin of the 'spolia opima'), and (images of) famous deeds with the heroes' (names) placed beneath (them). And he sees the temple, adorned with the name of Augustus (inscribed) on its front, and, when Caesar's (name) is read, the work seemed greater (still). (As) a young man he had vowed it, at the time when he took up pious arms (i.e. before the Battle of Philippi in 42 B.C.). By such great deeds the 'princeps' had begun (his reign). He stretched out his hands, with his loyal troops stationed on this side, and the conspirators on the other, and spoke the following words: "If my father, the priest of Vesta (i.e. the deified Julius Caesar, who had been Pontifex Maximus), is the instigator of my fighting this war, and I am preparing to avenge both deities, be present Mars and glut my blade with profane blood, and let your favour support the better cause. If I am victorious, you will gain a temple, and you will be called the Avenger." (So) he vowed, and returned (home) delighted by his enemy's defeat.

It is not enough for Mars to have earned this name (just) once: he pursues the standards retained by the hands of Parthians. This was a race protected by deserts, and horses, and arrows and inaccessible behind its encircling rivers (i.e. the Tigris and Euphrates). The death of the Crassi (i.e. Marcus Licinius Crassus and his second son Publius) gave this nation heart, when army, standards and general all perished together (i.e. at the Battle of Carrhae in 53 B.C.). The Parthians kept the Roman standards, the glory of war, and an enemy was the standard-bearer of the Roman eagle; that shame would have continued still, if the power of Ausonia (i.e. Italy) had not been defended by Caesar's strong army. He did away with the stigma and the disgrace of decades: the standards were regained (i.e. in 20 B.C.) and recognised their own. What benefit comes to you now from your use of arrows usually fired behind your back (i.e. when in retreat), and of your terrain and of your swift horses? Parthian, you return our eagles, you even offer your bows unstrung: now you possess no emblems of our shame. Both temple and name are duly given to the twice avenging god, and the deserved honour discharges the debts of the vow. Celebrate solemn games in the Circus, Quirites (i.e. Roman citizens), (though) the stage does not seem to befit (so) strong a god.

May 13: Lemuria: Nefastus (vv. 599-602).

You catch sight of all the Pleiades and the whole company of the sisters, when a single night is left before the Ides: then, according to my reliable sources, summer begins, and the season of tepid spring comes  to an end.

May 14: Argeis: Comitialis (vv. 603-662)

(The Argeis is the companion rite to the Procession of the Argei in Martius. At this ceremony the 27 Argei (human-shaped bundles of rushes) are carried counter-clockwise throughout the city in a procession that incldues the Flamen and Flaminica Dialis, the Vestal Virgins, and the Praetor. In a ritual probably done as a substitute for human sacrifice, the Vestal Virgins then throw the Argei into the Tiber from the Bridge of Sublicius.)

(The day) before the Ides shows Taurus lifting his starry face: pretending to be a bull, Jupiter offered his back to a Tyrian girl (i.e. Europa), and bore horns on his false forehead; she clutched his mane with her right(-hand) (and) her frock with her left (one), and fear itself was the cause of her fresh beauty; the breeze fills her dress, (and) the breeze stirs her blonde hair: (O) Sidonian girl, you were thus fit for the gaze of Jupiter. Often she withdrew her feet from the sea, and she feared any contact with the leaping water. Often, the god deliberately sunk his back beneath the waves, so that she would cling the more tightly to his neck. When he reached the shore, Jupiter stood (there) without any horns, and was transformed from a bull into a god. The bull enters the heavens; Jupiter impregnates you, Sidonian (girl), and a third part of the earth (now) bears your name (i.e. Europe). Others have said that this sign (was) the Pharian (i.e. Egyptian) heifer (i.e. Io), who was made a cow from a human, and a goddess from a cow.

On this day too, the Virgin (i.e. one of the Vestal Virgins) is accustomed to throw straw effigies of former men from the oaken bridge (i.e. the 'Pons Sublicius'). (He) who believes that men (were) hurled to their death at the age of sixty condemns our ancestors with a wicked crime. (There is) an old story that, at the time when the land was called Saturnian, these words of prophetic Jupiter had been spoken: "Discharge the bodies of two people as offerings to the old sickle-bearer (i.e. Saturn), and may they be welcomed by the Tuscan waters." Until the Tirynthian (i.e. Hercules) came to these fields, this grim rite (was) performed every year in the Leucadian manner (i.e. at Leucas, an island in the Ionian Sea off the coast of Acarnania, there was an annual ritual when someone was thrown off a promontory into the sea). (It was said) that he (i.e. Hercules) had hurled straw citizens into the water; (so now) fake bodies are thrown following Hercules' example. Some think that young men flung frail old men from the bridges in order that they might control the voting. Tiber, tell (me) the truth: your banks are older than the City; you should know well the origin of this rite. The Tiber lifted his head, crowned with reeds, (as it was,) from the midst of the river-bed, and parted his lips (to speak) these hoarse words: "I have seen this place (as) solitary grasslands without walls: each bank provided pasture for scattered cows, and I, the Tiber, whom nations now know and fear was then deserving of even the cattle's contempt. The name of Arcadian Evander is often referred to by you: (as) a stranger, he churned my waters with his oars. The grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) came also, accompanied by a crowd of Achaeans: the Albula, if I recall (aright), was then my name. The Pallantian (i.e. Arcadian) hero (i.e. Evander) welcomes the young man with his hospitality, and at last punishment comes to Cacus, as he deserved. The victor leaves and takes with him the cattle, his booty from Erythea (i.e. an island in the west where Hercules had captured the cattle of Geryon, the tenth of his Twelve Labours); but his companions refuse to go any further. A large part of them had come (there), having abandoned Argos: they lodge their hopes and their houses on these hillsides. Yet they are often struck by a sweet love for their native-land, and one of them, as he was dying, commissions this small task: 'Throw me into the Tiber, so that, carried by the Tiber's waves, I may go, (as) empty dust to the shore of Inachus (i.e. Argos).' The charge of this burial duty is displeasing to his heir: the dead stranger is buried in Ausonian (i.e. Italian) soil; a straw effigy is thrown into the Tiber instead of its master, so that it may go back to its Greek home over the wide seas." Thus far (spoke the Tiber), and he enters a dripping cave of natural rock. Gentle waters, you checked your flow.

May 15: Ides: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 663-692).

(Sacred to Mercurius, this day was traditionally the birthday of the Patron of Merchants and this day was also sacred to Maia, his mother. Merchants drew water from the aqua Mercurii — a sacred spring tied to Mercurius — in jars cleansed by fumigation. With a bough of laurel, the merchant then sprinkled both his merchandise and himself with water from the jars. Mercurius was closely associated with merchants and traders, and they held this day as a feast day.)

Be present, distinguished grandson of Atlas (i.e. Mercury), (you) whom a Pleiad (i.e. Maia) once bore to Jupiter (all) alone on the Arcadian hills: (O) arbiter of peace and war to (those) of the gods on high and in the depths, (you) who make your way on winged feet, (who) delights in the strumming of the lyre, and also in the gleam of the gymnasium, (and you) through whose teaching the tongue has learned to speak with eloquence, on the Ides the senate founded for you a temple facing the Circus; from then onward this day has been your festival day. All those who profess to sell their wares offer you incense and beg that you allow them (to make) a profit. Mercury's fountain is close to the Capene Gate; if it helps to trust those who have tried (it), it has a divine power. Here comes a merchant, girt in a tunic, and, purified (himself), he draws water in a fumigated jar. From this source, a laurel (bough) becomes wet, and all (his goods) that are about to have new owners are sprayed by the damp laurel. He also sprinkles his hair with the dripping laurel, and utters prayers in a voice accustomed to deceit: "Wash away the lies of time gone by," he says, "wash away the dishonest words of former days. "Whether, (O you) who should not hear, I have made you a witness, and have falsely invoked the mighty powers of Jupiter, or I have knowingly deceived some other god or goddess, let the swift south winds bear away my wicked words: and may the coming day be left open to me for perjuries, and may the gods above be unconcerned if I have spoken any. Just grant me my profit, grant (me) the joy of the profit I've made, and arrange for the words I have given the buyer to give (me) pleasure." From on high Mercury laughs at these requests, remembering (how) he had stolen the Ortygian cattle (i.e. the cattle of Apollo, which he stole on the first day of his life: Ortygia is another name for Delos, Apollo's birthplace).   

May 20: Comitialis (vv. 693-720).

But tell me, I beg (you, Mercury), as I am asking about (something) so much better (than that merchant), at what time does Phoebus enter the Gemini (i.e. the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux). "When you can see as many days remaining in the month as the number of labours undertaken by Hercules (i.e. twelve)," he says. "Tell me," I replied, "the origin of this star-sign." The god explained its origin through his eloquent mouth: "The Tyndarid brothers (i.e. Castor and Pollux, the sons of Tyndareus, King of Sparta) raped and abducted Phoebe and Phoebe's sister (i.e. Hilaeira), the one (i.e. Castor) a horseman, the other (i.e. Pollux) a boxer. Both Idas and his brother (i.e. Lynceus, both sons of Aphareus, King of Messenia, a district in the west of the Peloponnese) prepare to fight and to reclaim their own, both of them having agreed to become a son-in-law to Leucippus (i.e. brother of Aphareus, and co-king with him of Messenia). Love prompts one (pair of twins) to demand their return, and the other (pair of twins) to refuse to give (them) back; and each (pair) fights for a common cause. Oebalus' grandson's (i.e. Castor and Pollux) could have escaped by taking to their heels, but it seemed shameful (to them) to win through the speed of their flight. There is a place free of trees, a suitable spot for a fight: at that place, they took their stand - its name (is) Aphidna (i.e. a site in Attica). Pierced in the chest by Lynceus' sword, a wound he had not expected, Castor fell to the ground; Pollux is there to avenge (him), and runs Lynceus through with his spear (at the place) where his neck joins together with, and presses down upon, his neck. (Then,) Idas attacked him, and was only just repelled by Jupiter's fire; but they say that his weapon was not torn from his hand by the lightning. The heights of heaven were already opening up for you, Pollux, when you said, 'Father, hear my words: That heaven which you grant me alone, share between the two (of us).' He spoke, and redeemed his brother by alternating their positions: both stars are now of assistance to vessels in difficulties."   


May 21: Agonalia: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 721-722).


(The Agonalia were celebrated on 19th January, 17th March, 21st May, and 11th December. The 'Rex Sacrorum' sacrifices a ram at the Regia in Roma. It honors Janus, Liber Pater, Vediovis, and Sol Indiges, respectively. The Agonalia on 17th March was the day young boys were usually initiated into manhood by being given their adult toga.)

Let him who asks what the Agonia (i.e. the Agonalia) are return to Janus (i.e. January): but they do have a time in the calendar here as well.

May 22: Nefastus (vv. 723-724).


On the night following this day, Erigone's dog (i.e. Maera, denoting the Dog-Star Sirius) rises: this star's origin is explained in another place (i.e. see April 25th). 

May 23: Tubilustria: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 725-726).


(This was the day of the Purification of the Trumpets, held on both 23rd March and 23rd May. A ewe was sacrificed to sanctify the trumpets used in many of the public rites. It was accompanied by a dance of the Salii. Once again it was a ceremony of purification and preparation for both the coming sacral year and the military campaigning season.)

The next day belongs to belongs to Vulcan; they call (it) the Tubilustria: the trumpets that he makes are ritually cleansed.

May 24: QRCF: (vv. 727-728).

Then the day belongs to four marks, which, when read in order, denote either the practice of sacred rites or the flight of the king (i.e. the Rex Sacrorum).

May 25: Fortuna: Comitialis (vv. 729-732).

(This day is sacred to Fortuna, Goddess of fate, chance, luck, and fortune.) 

I shall not exclude you, Fortuna Publica of a powerful people, to whom a temple was dedicated on the following day. When Amphitrite (i.e. the wife of Neptune, here personifying the sea), rich in waters, welcomes that (day), you will see the beak of that golden bird beloved by Jupiter (i.e. the constellation of 'Aquila', the Eagle).

May 26-27: Comitiales (vv. 733-734).

The following day will remove Bootes (i.e. the constellation of the Ox-Herder) from our sight, and the constellation of Hyas will appear.

(May 29: Ambarvalia: Comitialis.

The Ambarvalia is the ritual purification of the fields, and as such it is connected with such agricultural deities as Ceres, Bacchus, Mars, et cetera. It is the "beating of the bounds", when the boundaries between fields were purified by a procession of sacrificial animals, the 'suovetaurilia'. It was both a public and a private rite, and the private rite is described by Cato:

A procession of a pig, sheep, and ox are led around the land, and the following words spoken:

"That with the good help of the Gods success may crown our work, I bid you Manius, to take care to purify my farm, my land, my ground with this 'suovetaurilia', in whatever part you think best for them to be driven or carried around."

Wine is sacrificed to Janus (always called upon first to open the lines of communication between men and the Gods) and Jupiter. The celebrant continues:

"Father Mars I pray and beseech you that you may be propitious and well disposed to me, our home, and household, for which cause I have ordered the offering of pig, sheep, and ox to be led 'round my field, my land, and my farm, that you might prevent, ward off, and avert diseases, visible and invisible; barrenness and waste; accident and bad water; that you would permit the crop and fruit of the earth, the vines and shrubs to grow great and prosper, that you would preserve the shepherds and their flocks in safety and give prosperity and health to me and our house and household. To this intent, to the intent of purifying my farm, my land, my ground, and of making an expiation, deign to accept the offering of these suckling victims."

Both the animals and spelt cakes are then sacrificed to Mars. (In the modern practice, store-bought pork, mutton, and beef are deemed to be acceptable substitutes for live animals, and may in fact be omitted altogether in favor of merely sacrificing the grain-cakes.) If the sacrifice has gone well (i.e., no unfavorable omens are seen), the area within the boundaries set by the procession of the sacrificial animals is deemed to have been purified. If ill omens are seen, the sacrifice must be repeated with the words

"Inasmuch as you were not pleased by the offering of that pig (or sheep, or ox, or cake), I make atonement with this pig (or sheep, or ox, or cake)."

The rites of purification are now complete, and a general celebration to Mars, Bacchus, and Ceres commences. No ill-omened words may be spoken, and no work is to be done by man or animal. A general feast is then held.)