Thursday 25 March 2010

OVID: METAMORPHOSES BOOK VIII

Introduction:

For his next piece of translation Sabidius turns to Ovid, after Virgil and Horace the third great poet of Golden or Augustan Age Latin (i.e. 40 B.C.-14 A.D.). In his 'Metamorphoses', written in fifteen books of hexameter verse, he describes the miraculous 'Transformations' of classical mythology, in which humans or demi-gods are changed into other forms, such as stars, trees and birds. Ovid's verse is polished and smooth, and he is a gifted story teller. This work, which is a true treasure chest of classical mythology, has had a huge influence on subsequent European literature.

Book VIII, perhaps the most widely read of the work's fifteen books, includes eight 'Metamorphosis' myths, and includes, in particular, the haunting tale of Daedalus and Icarus, and the delightful account of how Philemon and Baucis, despite their poverty, seek to show hospitality to two travellers who turn out to be Jupiter and Mercury in disguise. Much of Book VIII also focusses on the Calydonian Boar-hunt, and its follow-up. The eight myths are: 1) Scylla and Minos (ll. 1-151); 2) the Minotaur, Theseus and Ariadne (ll. 152-182); 3) Daedalus and Icarus (ll. 183-235); 4) Daedalus and Perdix (ll. 236-259); 5) Meleager and the Calydonian Boar, and Althaea and Meleager (ll. 260-546); 6) Acheloüs and the Nymphs (ll. 547-611); 7) Baucis and Philemon (ll. 612-727); and 8) Erysichthon and his daughter Mestra (ll. 728-887). In this translation, Sabidius seeks to keep as closely as possible to the structure of Ovid's sentences. The text is that of Hugo Magnus, Gotha (Germany), 1892 (available on the Perseus website). This translation breaks up the text using the divisions and subtitles employed in the edition of 'Metamorphoses', Book VIII, first published by Macmillan, 1940, and edited by H.E. Gould and J.L. Whiteley.

A.  SCYLLA AND MINOS

Ll. 1-24.  How Megara was besieged by King Minos of Crete.

Now, as Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) reveals the shining day, and puts to flight the hours of night, the East Wind falls, and the moist clouds lift: the gentle South Winds give passage to the returning sons of Aeacus (i.e. Peleus and Telamon) and Cephalus, and, favourably propelled by these, they reached the harbour which they were seeking before (they were) expected. Meanwhile, Minos ravages the Lelegaïan (i.e. Megarian) coast, and tries out the strength of his army on the city of Alcathoüs (i.e. Megara), which Nisus rules, amongst whose distinguished white tresses and on the crown of (whose) head there grows a lock bright with purple, the pledge of his great kingdom. The horns of the rising moon were rising again for the sixth time, and the fortunes of war were still hanging in the balance, and for a long time victory flies between both (kings) on uncertain wings. There was a royal tower built upon tuneful walls, on which the child of Leto (i.e. Apollo) is said to have put down his golden lyre. Its sound is absorbed in the stone. Thither, in the days when there was peace, the daughter of Nisus (i.e. Scylla) often used to climb, and aim a small pebble at the sounding stone; in wartime too, she often used to watch from that place the stern contest of war. And now, owing to the length of the war, she had even come to know the names of their (i.e. those of the hostile Cretans) chiefs, and their armour, and their horses, and their dress and Cydonian (i.e. Cretan) quivers. Above (all) else, she came to know the face of their leader, the son of Europa (i.e. Minos), more indeed than it was fitting (for her) to have known.

Ll. 24-66.  How Scylla, daughter of Nisus, the Megarian King, fell in love with Minos.

In her judgment, if Minos had hidden his head in a helmet crested with plumes, he was handsome in his helmet; if he had taken up his shield gleaming with gold, it became (him) to have taken up his shield. If he had bent his arm and hurled a flexible spear, the maiden praised his skill combined with his strength. If he had placed an arrow on (the bow-string) and bent his broad bow, she swore that Phoebus (i.e. Apollo) had taken up his arrows in such a manner and was standing (there). But, whenever he took off his bronze (helmet) and exposed his face, and, (when) clothed in purple, he sat on the back of his white charger, caparisoned with embroidered saddle-cloth, and curbed its foaming mouth, the maiden daughter of Nisus was scarcely (mistress of) herself (and) scarcely in control of her wits : she called the javelin which he touched happy, and the reins which he grasped in his hands blessed. She has a compulsion - if only she could! - to carry her maiden steps through the enemy ranks; she has a compulsion to cast her body from the top of the tower into the Cnossian (i.e. Cretan) camp, or to open the bronze(-plated) gates to the enemy, or (to do) whatever else Minos might wish. And as she sat gazing at the white tents of the king of (Mount) Dicte (i.e. Crete), she cries: "I am not sure whether I should rejoice or grieve that this mournful war is being waged: I grieve because Minos is an enemy to (one) who loves (him), but unless there had been a war he would never have been known to me. But, if he received me (as) a hostage, he could set aside the war: he could have me (as) his companion, and (as) a pledge of peace. If she who bore you (i.e. Europa), most beautiful of creatures, was just like you yourself are, no wonder the god (i.e. Jupiter) was smitten with love for her. Oh, (I should be) thrice fortunate, if I could glide through the air on wings and alight within the camp of the Cnossian (i.e. Cretan) king, and, after I had confessed myself and my passion, (I could) inquire for what dowry he was willing to be bought: (and beg him) only not to demand my father's citadel. For may the bed of my dreams be lost rather than I should be mistress of my desires through treachery. Yet the mercy of an appeased conqueror has often made defeat profitable to many. He is certainly waging a just war on behalf of his murdered son (i.e. Androgeos), and he is strong both in his cause and in the arms which defend that cause. As I believe, we shall be conquered. If this (is) the end (which) awaits our city, why should his army and not my love unbar these my walls to him? (It is) better for him that he should be able to conquer without slaughter and delay, and the expense of his own blood. Certainly, I shall not have to fear lest anyone should pierce your breast inadvertently, Minos, for (is there) anyone so unfeeling that he would venture to aim his cruel spear at you consciously?"

Ll. 67-94.  How Scylla, for love of Minos, betrayed her father to him.

Her plans are pleasing (to her) and her resolve is fixed to surrender her country together with herself as dowry and to bring an end to the war. But to wish is not enough. "A guard protects the entrances, and my father keeps the keys to the gates. In my misfortune, I fear him, alone; only he hinders my desires. Oh that the gods acted (so that) I were without a father! Surely each man is a god to himself: fortune resists idle prayers. Another (woman), if she had been fired by such strong desire, would long since have delighted to destroy whatever were standing in the way of her love. And why should another be braver than I? I should venture to go through fire and sword. But in this case there is no need of any fire or sword: I need the paternal lock. That (lock) is more precious to me than gold, that purple (lock) shall make me blessed and mistress of my heart's desire."

As she was uttering these (things), night, chief nourisher of cares, came upon (her), and her boldness grew in the darkness. The first (hour) of rest was come, in which slumber takes possession of the breast, wearied (as it is) by the cares of the day. Silently, she enters her father's bed-chamber, and - alas, the evil deed! - she, his daughter, robs her father of his fateful lock, and, now that she has obtained her impious spoil, she carries her prize with her, and, having gone out swiftly through a gate into the midst of the enemy - so great is her confidence in her deserts - , she reaches the king. Thus she addressed him, horrified (as he was): "Love has prompted this crime. I, the princess Scylla, daughter of Nisus, surrender to you both my country's guardian spirit and my own. I seek no reward, except you. Take the purple lock as a pledge of my love, and believe not that I am now handing over to you a lock of hair, but my father's life". And in her right hand she holds out the impious gift.

Ll. 95-151.  How Scylla, scorned by Minos for her treachery, plunged into the sea to follow his departing fleet and was changed into the sea-bird Ciris.

Minos shunned the proffered (gift); and, deeply troubled by the sight of the strange exploit, he replied: "May the gods banish you from their own world, O disgrace of our age, and may earth and ocean be denied to you. Certainly, I shall not allow Crete, the cradle of Jupiter, which is my own sphere, to suffer contact with so great a monster". He spoke: and when the most just law-giver had imposed terms on his captured enemies, he ordered the hawsers of his fleet to be loosened and the brazen sterns to be filled up with rowers. When Scylla saw that the keels (which had been) launched were afloat on the sea, and that their leader had not bestowed a reward on her for her crime, and that her prayers had been exhausted, she turns into a violent rage and stretching out her hands, (and) with her hair streaming, she shouts in fury, "Where are you running to, after you have abandoned the author of your success, O (you) whom I have put before my native country, (you) whom I have put before my father? Where are you running to, (you) pitiless one, whose victory is both my crime and (the reward for) my service? Did neither the gift (I) gave you nor my love move you, nor (the fact) that all my hope was centred on you alone? For, (now) that I have been abandoned, where shall I turn? To my country? It lies defeated. But imagine that it (still) existed: it is barred to me by my betrayal. To the face of my father, whom I have presented to you? My fellow-citizens detest (me) deservedly: (and) our neighbours fear the example (I have set). I am so exposed to the world that Crete alone might lie open to me. If you forbid it also, and, in your ingratitude, you abandon me, your mother is not Europa, but cruel Syrtis, or an Armenian tigress, or Charybdis tossed by a south wind. Nor (are) you a son of Jupiter, nor was your mother beguiled by the likeness of a bull: that story of your birth is false: the bull who sired you, was real and feral and (was) captured by the love of no heifer. Take your revenge, (O) Nisus, my father! Rejoice at my miseries, my city, lately betrayed (by me)! For I confess that I have deserved, and am worthy, to die. But yet may someone destroy me from among those whom I have impiously injured. Why should (you,) who have conquered through my sin, prosecute my crime? Let this be, in the eyes of both my country and my father, a crime: in yours a service. That adulterous woman (i.e. Pasiphaë), who deceived the savage bull with wood and bore a hybrid fetus in her womb, is indeed worthy of you (as) a mate. Do any of my words penetrate your ears?  Or do the winds, and the same (winds which drive) your ships, ungrateful man, bear away my words (as) empty? Now indeed it is not surprising that Pasiphaë preferred a bull to you: you had more beastliness. Woe (is) me! It pleases (him) to hasten, and the torn water ripples with oars. And my country recedes together with me. You gain nothing, O (you) who forgets my services in vain: I shall follow (you) against your will, and, having embraced your curving stern, I shall be dragged across the wide seas." She had scarcely finished speaking, (when) she leapt into the waves, and she reached a ship, her passion lending (her) strength, and she clings, an unwelcome companion, to a Cnossian (i.e. Cretan) hull. When her father (i.e. Nisus) saw her - for he had just been made an osprey with tawny wings and was now hovering in the air - , he began to swoop in order to tear at (her) with his crooked beak, as she clung (there).  In fear, she let go of the stern, and a light breeze seemed to sustain (her) as she fell, lest she should touch the sea. It was her plumage; changed into a bird with feathers, she is called Ciris (i.e. the Shearer), and this name comes from the shorn lock.

B.  THE MINOTAUR AND ARIADNE

Ll. 152-168.  How Daedalus, the great craftsman, built for Minos the Labyrinth, to house the half-beast Minotaur.

When, having set forth in his ships, he reached the land of Crete, Minos paid his offerings to Jupiter, the bodies of a hundred bulls, and his palace was adorned with the trophies (which he had) hung up. The scandal concerning his family (i.e. the birth of the Minotaur) had grown and the loathsome adultery of the mother stood revealed in the strangeness of the two-shaped monster. Minos resolved to remove this shameful (creature) from his bed-chamber and to shut (it) up in a house of manifold (passages) and secret enclosures. Daedalus, renowned for his skill in the art of carpentry, constructs the building; and he confuses the signs, and leads the eyes into wandering this way and that down the windings of various passage-ways. Just as the clear Maeander sports in the fields of Phrygia and ebbs and flows in his changeable course and, meeting himself, he looks on the waters (yet) to come, and, turning now to his source, now to the open sea, he drives the wavering waters; so Daedalus fills the endless passages with wrong-turns, and he himself could scarcely retrace (his footsteps) to the entrance: (for) so great is the deceptiveness of the building.

Ll. 169-182.  How Ariadne, daughter of Minos, fleeing from Crete after aiding Theseus to slay the Minotaur, had her diadem changed into a constellation by Bacchus.

When he had imprisoned within it the two-fold form of a bull and of a young man, and the third lot, renewed every nine years, had laid low that monster, (which had) twice (been) fed on Actaean (i.e. Athenian) blood, and, when, with the help of a maiden (i.e. Ariadne), the elusive entrance, attained again by none of his predecessors, had been found by means of the thread (which he had) rewound, the son of Aegeus (i.e. Theseus), carrying off the daughter of Minos (i.e. Ariadne), set sail for Dia (i.e. Naxos), but he (then) cruelly abandoned his companion on the shore (of) that (island). To the forsaken (girl), bitterly complaining (as she was), Liber (i.e. Bacchus) brought embraces and help, and, so that she might be renowned as an eternal star, he took the crown from her forehead and cast (it) into the sky. It flies through the slender breezes, and, as it flies, its jewels are turned into brilliant fires, and, retaining the shape of a crown (i.e. the Corona Borealis), they come to rest in a place which lies mid-way between the Kneeler (i.e. Hercules) and the Serpent Holder (i.e. Ophiucus).

C. DAEDALUS AND ICARUS

Ll. 183-220.  How Daedalus, wearying of his long exile in Crete, sought to escape to Athens, with his son Icarus, by flying through the air on man-made wings.

Meanwhile, Daedalus, loathing Crete and his long exile and stirred by love for his native land, had been shut in by the sea. "Although he (i.e. Minos) bars land and sea," he said, "yet surely the sky lies open. We shall go that way. Let Minos possesses everything (for all I care), he is (still) not master of the air." He spoke and he applies his mind towards unknown skills and seeks to change his nature. For he places feathers in order, beginning with the smallest, a shorter (one) coming after a long (one), so that you would think they had grown upon a hill-side: thus a rustic pipe sometimes rises gradually with reeds of unequal length. Then he binds the middle part (of the feathers) with thread and the lower parts with wax, and, when he has arranged (them) thus, he bends (them) in a gentle curve, in order to imitate real birds. The boy Icarus stood nearby, unaware that he was handling his own dangers, now with a smiling mouth he would try to catch at the feathers which the fluttering wind had ruffled, now he would soften the yellow wax with his thumb, and through play he hindered his father's wonderful work. When the final touch to the undertakings was made, the craftsman himself balanced his body upon his two wings and hovered, beating the air. He prepares his son too, and says (to him), "I warn you to fly a middle course, Icarus, lest the sea may make your wings heavy (with spray), if you go too low, (and) the fire (of the sun) may burn (you), if (you go) too high: fly between each of these (courses). And I bid you not to watch Boötes (i.e. the Lesser Bear or the Waggoner) or Helice (i.e. the Great Bear) or the drawn sword of Orion (i.e. the Hunter); traverse the route with me (as) your guide, ". At the same time, he delivers his instructions for flying, and fits the strange wings on his shoulders. Between the work and the warnings the old man's cheeks were wet, and his paternal hands trembled. He gave kisses, not destined to be repeated again, to his son, and, raised upon his wings, he flies in front, and fears for his companion like a mother bird who has brought forth a tender fledgling from her high nest into the air; and he encourages (him) to follow, and teaches (him) the baneful art, and he himself moves his own wings and looks back at (those) of his son. Someone, while he captured a fish with his trembling rod, or a shepherd leaning on his staff, or a ploughman (leaning on) his ploughshare, saw them and was amazed, and believed that they were gods since they could traverse the sky.

Ll. 220-235.  How Icarus, flying too near the sun, lost his wings and fell to his death in the sea.

And now Samos, sacred to Juno, was on his left side - both Paros and Delos had been left behind - , Lebinthus and Calymne, fruitful in honey, (were) on the right, when the boy began to rejoice in audacious flight, and he forsook his guide and, carried away with a desire for the heavens, he pursued too high a course. The nearness of the fiery sun softens the fragrant wax, the fastenings of his wings. The wax melted; he shakes his naked arms and, lacking the oarage (of his feathers), he no longer grips any breezes, and his blue lips, crying out the name of his father, are caught by the sea: it took its name (i.e. the Icarian Sea) from him. But his unfortunate father, no longer a father, said "Icarus"; "Icarus," he said, " where are you? In what area am I to look for you? "Icarus," he continued to say: (then) he saw his wings in the waves, and cursed his skills, and he buried the body in a tomb, and the land (was) called by the name of the buried (boy) (i.e. Icaria).

D.  DAEDALUS AND PERDIX

Ll. 236-259.  How the nephew of Daedalus, Perdix, who, having been flung by him from the Acropolis, was changed by Minerva into a partridge, rejoiced in the sorrow of Daedalus.

A chattering partridge observed him from a muddy ditch placing the body of his son in an earth-mound, and clapped its wings and showed its joy by a song: (it was) then a single bird, and had not been seen in earlier years, and had recently been made a bird, (as) an everlasting reproach to you, Daedalus. For his sister (i.e. Polycaste), unaware of destiny, had entrusted her son (to him) to be taught, a boy, twelve years old, with a mind ready for learning. He even took as a model the backbone which he had observed in the middle of a fish, and he cut a row of teeth with sharp iron, and invented the power of the saw. He was also the first to join two arms of iron from one hinge, so that with these standing apart at an equal distance, one arm could stand fast (while) the other arm could draw a circle (i.e. the compass). Daedalus was envious, and hurled (him) headlong from the sacred citadel of Minerva (i.e. the Acropolis at Athens), having pretended that he had slipped. But Pallas (i.e. Minerva) who favours (men of) genius, caught him, and made (him) a bird, and clothed (him) with (feathered) wings in mid-air. But the strength of his once quick intelligence was absorbed into his wings and into his feet; (and) even his name remained what (it was) before (i.e. Perdix, a partridge). This bird, however, does not lift its body up (off the ground), nor makes its nests in trees or on high points: (but) it flies near the ground, and places its eggs in hedgerows, and, mindful of its former fall, it fears the heights.

(N.B. In Ovid's account, as indicated above, Perdix is the name of Daedalus' nephew. In another version, however, the nephew's name is Talus, and Perdix is an alternative name for his mother, Polycaste. In Ovid's tale the boy Perdix gives his name to the partridge; in the alternative version the partridge is named after his mother, the sister of Daedalus.) 

E.  MELEAGER AND THE CALYDONIAN BOAR

Ll. 260-300.  How Theseus, returning home from Crete, was begged by the townsfolk of Calydon to aid them in destroying a monstrous boar, sent by Diana to ravage their land.

And now the land of Sicily supported the weary Daedalus, and Cocalus (i.e. King of Camicus in Sicily) was deemed merciful, because he had taken up arms on behalf of the suppliant (i.e. Daedalus); already Athens had ceased to pay its mournful tribute through the glorious action of Theseus. The temples are wreathed (with flowers), and they (i.e. the Athenians) call upon warlike Minerva, together with Jupiter and the other gods, whom they honour with the blood (that had been) vowed, with the offerings (that had been) given, and with caskets of incense. Wandering rumour had spread abroad the name of Theseus through (all) the cities of the Argolis (i.e. Greece), and the peoples, whom rich Achaea (i.e. Greece) contained, entreated his help in their great peril. Although it (already) had Meleager, Calydon (i.e. a town in Aetolia, Central Greece) humbly sought his help with anxious prayer. The cause of their asking was a boar, the servant and champion of an enraged Diana. For they say that Oeneus (i.e. the King of Calydon) had made as offerings for a year full of successful (harvests) the first fruits of corn to Ceres, his wine to Lyaeus (i.e. Bacchus), (and) olive-oil to golden-haired Minerva. Beginning with the gods of agriculture (i.e. the three just mentioned), the much sought after honour was extended to all the gods: they say that the altars of the forsaken daughter of Latona (i.e. Diana), having alone been left without incense, stood idle. "But I shall not bear (this) with impunity, and (I) who (am called) unhonoured, shall not also be called unavenged," she cried, and, having been (thus) slighted, she sent, (as) an avenger through the fields of Oeneus, a boar so big that grassy Epirus does not have any bulls that are bigger, while the Sicilian fields have (bulls that are actually) smaller. Its eyes flash with blood and fire, its steep neck stiffens, and its bristles stand on end like hard spear-shafts: and they stand just like a rampart, as though its bristles (were) tall spears: hot foam runs down across its broad flanks with a hoarse hissing, its tusks are as big as the teeth of Indian (elephants), lightning comes from its mouth, (and) the leaves are ablaze from its breath. Now he tramples under foot the crops growing on the stalk, now he mows down the full-grown hopes (i.e.  the crops) of the farmer, fated to weep (though he is), and he has destroyed the corn in the ear; in vain the threshing-floors, in vain the barns await the promised harvests. The bulging fruits (of the vine) with their long shoots are laid low, as also the berry of the ever leafy olive with its branches. He rages too among the flocks: neither the shepherd nor the dogs can guard them, nor (can) the fierce bulls (guard) the cattle. The people scatter in flight, and they do not think that they are safe except within the walls of the city: (that is) until Meleager and his chosen band of young men met together in their desire for glory.

Ll. 301-328.  How many great hunters - and one huntress - joined Prince Meleager to hunt the Calydonian boar.

(They included) the twin sons of Tyndareus (i.e. Castor and Pollux), one renowned for his boxing, the other for his horsemanship, and Jason, the builder of the first ship (i.e. the Argo), and Theseus with Pirithoüs, a happy partnership, and the two sons of Thestius (i.e. Plexippus and Toxeus) and Lynceus and swift Idas, (both) offspring of Aphareus, and Caeneus, no longer a woman, and fierce Leucippus and Acastus, famed for his javelin, and Hippothoüs and Dryas and Phoenix, the son of Amyntor, and the twin (sons) of Actor (i.e. Eurytus and Cleatus), and Phyleus, sent from Elis. And Telamon (too) was there, and the begetter of the mighty Achilles (i.e. Peleus), and together  with the son of Pheres (i.e. Admetus) and the Hyantean (i.e. Boeotian) Iolaüs (were) the tireless Eurytion and Echion, unbeaten at running; and Lelex from Naryx, and Panopeus, and Hyleus, and the fierce Hippasus, and Nestor, still in his early years, and (those) whom Hippocoön sent from ancient Amyclae, and the father-in-law of Penelope (i.e. Laërtes) with Arcadian Ancaeus, and the wise son of Ampyx (i.e. Mopsus) and the son of Oecleus (i.e. Amphiaraüs), still safe from his wife (i.e. Eriphyle), and the (girl) from Tegea, the pride of the Lycaean forest (i.e. Atalanta). A polished buckle fastened her robe at the top, her hair was simply (arranged), (and) gathered in a single knot: hanging from her left shoulder, the ebony custodian of her arrows rattled, (and) her left (hand) was also holding a bow. Such she was in dress: her face (was) such as one could truthfully call maidenly in a boy, (and) boyish in a maiden. As soon as he saw her, the Calydonian hero (i.e. Meleager) desired her, although it was against the will of heaven, and he conceived hidden fires (of love), and said, "O happy (the man), if she shall deem anyone worthy (as) a husband!" But neither time nor modesty allowed (him) to say more: the work of the great contest is more pressing.

Ll. 329-364.  How the hunt began, and how Enaesimus was slain by the boar's tusk.

A wood thick with trees, which had never been cut at any time, begins from the flat and overlooks the sloping fields. After the men had come to this, some stretch their nets, others release the hounds from their leashes, (and) others again follow the deeply marked foot-prints, and are keen to find their dangerous (quarry). There was a deep gorge, into which rivulets of rain water had been used to discharge themselves: pliant willows, and light sedge, and marsh rushes, and osiers, and small reeds overshadowed by tall bulrushes occupy the bottom of the hollow. Roused from this (covert), the boar rushes violently into the middle of his foes, like lightning struck from clashing clouds. The forest is laid low by his onslaught, and the felled wood gives out a crash. The young men shout out, and bravely hold the quivering broad-bladed spears stretched out in their right (hands). It rushes forward and scatters the hounds, as each one stands in the way of its furious (path), and it disperses the barking (pack) by sidelong blows (of its tusks). The spear, first hurled by the arm of Echion, was ineffectual, and dealt (but) a slight wound to the trunk of a maple-tree. The next (spear), if it had not received the excessive strength of its sender, seemed likely to stick in the back at which it was aimed: (but) it goes too far. The thrower of the spear (was) Jason of Pagasae (i.e. Thessaly). "Phoebus", said the son of Ampyx (i.e. Mopsus), "grant me to hit with a sure spear (the thing) that it is aimed at!" As far as he could, the god assented to the prayer: the boar was struck by it, but (was) without a wound: (for) Diana had taken away the iron tip from the flying spear; (so) the wooden (shaft) arrived without its point. The anger of the wild beast was stirred, and it was blazing as fiercely as a thunderbolt: flame shoots forth from its eyes (and) also breathes from its breast. And as a mass of rock, sped by the tautened strings, flies when it is aimed at walls or towers full of soldiers, so the wound-dealing hog rushes upon the young men with a determined attack, and throws down Eupalamon and Pelagon, (who are) guarding the right wing: as they lay (there), their comrades carried (them) off. But Enaesimus, the son of Hippocoön, did not escape the fatal blows: trembling and preparing to turn his back, his sinews failed (him), when his hamstrings were torn.

Ll. 365-402.  How the boar was first wounded by Atalanta, and how Ancaeus was slain.

And the Pylian (i.e. Nestor) might perhaps have perished before his time at Troy: but, having obtained leverage from his spear (which he had) placed (in the ground), he leapt into the branches of a tree, which was standing nearby, and safe in this place he looked down upon the adversary from which he had fled. Having whetted its teeth upon the bark of an oak-tree, that ferocious (creature) is bent upon destruction and, trusting in its freshly sharpened tusks, it gored with its turned up snout the thigh of the great son of Eurytus (i.e. Hippasus). But the twin brothers (i.e. Castor and Pollux), not yet heavenly stars, both conspicuous, were both riding on horses whiter than snow, (and) both brandished their pointed lances with a quivering motion and hurled (them) through the air. They would have inflicted wounds, if the bristle-bearer (i.e. the boar) had not gone into dark woods, places penetrable neither to spears nor to a horse. Telamon went in pursuit, and, unwary due to his eagerness to advance, he was caught by the root of a tree and fell headlong. While Peleus lifted him up, the (girl) from Tegea placed a swift arrow on her bow-string and fired (it) from her bent bow. The shaft, grazes the skin of the beast's body and sticks fast beneath its ear, and reddens its bristles with a trickle of blood. But she was no more joyful at the success of her blow than Meleager. He is thought to have been the first to have seen the blood, and, having seen (it), and to have been the first to point (it) out to his comrades, and to have said, "You will receive the honour earned by your courage." The men blushed, and they exhort themselves and inspire (fresh) courage by shouting, and hurl weapons in a disorderly manner. Their number hampers the (weapons) which they throw, and hinders the blows which (each man) seeks (to inflict). Behold the axe-bearing Arcadian (i.e. Ancaeus), burning to meet his doom: "See how far the weapons of a man surpass (those) of a woman, and give way to my work, O young men!" he said. "Although the daughter of Latona herself may protect him with her weapons, yet my right hand will destroy him against Diana's will." Such things he had proudly said from his boastful lips and, raising his two-headed axe with both his hands, he stood on his toes, poised for a downward stroke: (but) the beast forestalls his reckless (foe), (and) aimed his twin tusks at the upper groin, and (the spot) where the way to death is nearest. Ancaeus falls, and his heaped up entrails come tumbling out with much blood: (and) the earth was moistened with his gore.

Ll. 403-424.  How the boar was slain at last by Meleager.

Pirithoüs, offspring of Ixion, went against the contending foe, brandishing his hunting spear in his strong right (hand). To him the son of Aegeus (i.e. Theseus) said, "Stand still from afar, O (you who are) dearer to me than myself, (O you who are) half of my soul. We can be brave from a distance: reckless courage was the undoing of Ancaeus". He spoke and hurled his heavy cornel-wood (shaft) with its bronze spear-point. Though this had been well aimed and though it seemed about to be successful, an evergreen branch from an oak-tree blocked (it). The son of Aeson (i.e. Jason) threw his spear, which chance turned away from it (i.e. the boar) to the destruction of an innocent barker, and (this), having been hurled into the midst of its flanks, pinned it to the earth through its flanks. But the aim of the son of Oeneus (i.e. Meleager) varies, and, two having been thrown, the first spear was fixed in the earth, (and) the second in the middle of its back. Nor (is there) any delay: while it rages, while it whirls its body round in circles and spews out bubbling foam together with fresh blood, the author of the wound comes forward, and provokes his foe to fury and buries his gleaming hunting spear in the shoulder facing (him). His comrades demonstrate their joy with favourable shouting and seek to clasp his victorious right(-hand) in (their own) right(-hands); and, marvelling, they gaze on the savage beast lying on (so) much ground, nor as yet do they think it is safe to touch (it), but yet each one stains his spear in its blood.

Ll. 425-444.  How Meleager slew his uncles, Plexippus and Toxeus, for having resented his bestowal of the spoils upon Atalanta.

He himself, having placed his foot there, trod on the deadly head, and spoke thus, "Take the spoil (that is) rightly mine, (O lady) of Nonacria (i.e. Atalanta), and let my glory be shared with you". Forthwith he gives (her) the spoils, the skin prickly with stiff bristles and the head remarkable for its enormous tusks. The author of the gift serves as a delight to her along with the gift. Others were envious and there was murmuring throughout the whole company. Out of these the sons of Thestius, (i.e. Plexippus and Toxeus), stretching out their arms, shouted in a loud voice, "Come, put (them) down, and do not usurp our honours, woman, nor let trust in your beauty deceive you, lest the author (of the gift), overcome by love, may be far from you", and they took the gifts away from her, (and) the right of (bestowing) the gift from him. The descendant of Mars (i.e. Meleager) did not endure (this), and, gnashing his teeth in swelling rage, he said, "Learn, thieves of another's honour, how much deeds differ from threats", and he pierced with an impious sword the heart of Plexippus, (who was) dreading no such (deed). He does not allow Toxeus, uncertain what to do, and equally wishing to avenge his brother and fearing (to suffer) the fate of his brother, to hesitate for a long time, and his weapon, warm from the murder of the first (victim), was warmed up again with the blood of a kinsman.

Ll. 445-514.  How Althaea, mother of Meleager, long torn by her two loyalties, at last revenged herself upon him for his slaying of her brothers by committing to the flames the sacred brand on which his life depended.

Althaea was bearing offerings to the temples of the gods in honour of her son's victory, when she saw (the bodies of) her dead brothers being brought back. Having let out a (loud) wail, she fills the city with sorrowful cries and exchanged her golden robes for black (ones).  But as soon as (the name of) the agent of death was reported (to her), all grief is forgotten, and she turned from tears towards a passion for vengeance. There was a brand, which, when the daughter of Thestius (i.e. Althaea) was in childbed, and had brought forth her offspring, the three sisters (i.e. the Parcae or Fates) placed in the fire, and, spinning the threads of fate with thumb pressed on, they said, "O (child) just born, we give the same life-span both to this (piece of) wood and to you". After this incantation had been uttered, as soon as the goddesses had departed, the mother snatched away the brand from the fire, and doused (it) in running water. It had been hidden for a long time in the depths of the innermost parts (of the palace), and, (thus) preserved, had safeguarded your years, young man. The mother brought it forth, and orders pinewood and kindling to be laid in position, and, when these things were laid, she brings the fatal flames near to (them). Then, having tried four times to place the brand in the flames, four times she checked her design. Both mother and sister were at war (within her), and two different names tug at one heart. Often her face went pale in dread of her projected crime, often burning anger brought redness to her eyes, and now her face was like (that of someone) threatening I know not what cruel (deed), now (that of someone) whom you could believe had pity. And, whenever the fierce heat of her anger had dried her tears, yet tears were (still) found. And as a vessel, which the wind and the tide at war with the wind catches, feels the double power and obeys the two uncertainly, so the daughter of Sestius wavers under conflicting emotions and by turns lays aside her anger and, having laid (it) aside, (then) rekindles (it).

However, the sister (in her) begins to be stronger than the parent, and, in order to appease the ghosts of her blood with blood, she is pious in her impiousness. For, when the deadly fire grew strong, she said, "Let that pyre consume my flesh." And as she held the fatal wood in her dread hand, the unhappy (creature) took her stand before the funereal altar, and says, "Eumenides (i.e. Kindly Ones, a name for the Furies), three goddesses of punishment, turn your faces to a sacrifice pleasing to the Furies. I take revenge and I commit a sin. Death must be atoned for by death: a crime must be joined to a crime, a body to a body: may this impious house perish amid a pile of sorrows. Shall the fortunate Oeneus rejoice in his son (as) the victor, (while) Thestius shall be bereft (of his sons). (It is) better that you both grieve. You only, fraternal shades and fresh spirits, perceive my dutifulness and accept this sacrifice to the dead, prepared at great (personal cost), this evil child of my womb. Ah me! To where am I being carried off? Pardon a mother, brothers! My hands lack the strength for this undertaking. I confess that he deserves to die: (but to be) the agent of his death is displeasing to me. Therefore, shall he escape without punishment, and, living (as) a victor and puffed up with success itself, shall he possess the kingdom of Calydon, (while) you lie (as) a handful of ashes and shivering ghosts? I shall not indeed allow this. Let that wicked man perish, and may he bring down with him both his father's hopes, his kingdom, and the ruin of his native-land. Where are my maternal feelings? Where are my loving duties as a parent and the ten months of pain which I endured? Oh, would that you had burned (as) an infant in that first fire, and I had allowed it (to happen then)! You have lived by my favour; now you will die by your own deserts. Take the reward of your action, and return the life (which I have) twice given (you), first by your birth, then by my snatching of the brand, or add me to my brothers' tombs .

I yearn (to do it), and I (yet) I cannot (do it). What am I to do? Now my brothers' wounds and the picture of such a terrible slaughter are before my eyes, now the love and the name of a mother breaks my spirit. (Ah,) wretched me! You will win in an evil manner, but conquer, my brothers, (you will), provided that I myself shall follow you and the solace (i.e. the body of Meleager) which I give you (down to the shades). She spoke, and, averting (her gaze), she threw the fatal brand into the midst of the fire with a trembling right hand. That piece of wood either gave or seemed to give a groan, as, caught by the reluctant flames, it burned.

Ll. 515-546.  How Meleager died, and how his sisters, grieving for death, were changed by Diana into guinea-hens.

Unaware (of this) and absent (from home) Meleager is burned by that flame, and feels his vital organs being scorched by unseen fire, but he overcomes the terrible pains by his courage. He grieves, however, because he is falling through a cowardly and bloodless death, and he calls the wounds of Ancaeus fortunate: and with a groan he calls, with his last utterance, on his aged father, and his brothers, and his loving sisters, and the companion of his bed (i.e. his wife Cleopatra), and perhaps his mother (i.e. Althaea) too. Both the fire and his pain flare up and subside again: both were extinguished together, and his spirit gradually passed into the thin breezes with white ash gradually shrouding the embers. Haughty Calydon is brought low: both young and old grieve, both the common people and the nobles lament, and Calydonian mothers, the daughters of Evenus (i.e. the women of Calydon, which stands on the banks of the River Evenus), with torn tresses, beat (their breasts). Stretched out upon the ground, his old father (i.e. Oeneus) begrimes his grey hair and his face in the dust, and curses his long life-span. As for the mother, her hand, aware within itself of the dreadful deed, has enforced punishment, by driving a sword through her vital organs. Nor, if heaven had given me a hundred mouths sounding with tongues and a capacious wit and complete inspiration, could I report the dismal laments of his wretched sisters. Heedless of decorum, they beat their breasts black and blue, and, while the body was (still) there, they both fondle and fondle the body again; they give kisses to (the body) itself, (and) they give kisses to the bier, (after it had been been) placed (on the pyre). After (it was turned) to ashes, they press the scraped up ashes to their bosoms, and lie stretched over his tomb and, embracing the name marked upon the stone, they poured their tears on to his name. Satiated at last by the disaster to the house of Parthaon (i.e. a previous king of Calydon and father of Oeneus), the daughter of Latona (i.e. Diana) raises them (all) up, except Gorge and the daughter-in-law of high-born Alcmena (i.e. Deianira, the wife of Hercules), causing feathers to sprout on their bodies, and she extends long wings along their arms and makes their mouths horny, and, (thus) transfigured, she launches (them) on the breezes (i.e. as guinea-hens or Meleagrides).

F.  ACHELOÜS, THE NAIADS AND PERIMELE

Ll. 547-611.  Acheloüs, the river-god, feasting Theseus on his homeward way, tells how certain nymphs were changed into islands.

Meanwhile, Theseus, having performed his share of the common task, was going to the Erecthean (i.e. Athenian) citadel (i.e. the Acropolis) of Tritonis (i.e. Minerva). Acheloüs (i.e. the river separating Acarnania from Aetolia), swollen with rain, stopped his journey and caused (him) a delay as he went. "Enter my house, glorious descendant of Cecrops (i.e. the first king of Athens)," he says, "and do not entrust yourself to these greedy waters. They are accustomed to carry thick tree-trunks and to roll boulders on their sides with a great noise. I have seen lofty stables close to the bank carried away together with their flocks; nor did it then profit oxen to be strong or horses (to be) swift. When the snow on the mountains has melted, the resulting torrent has also engulfed many bodies of young men in its whirling currents. Rest is safer until the river can run in its usual channel, (and) until its bed contains less water."

The son of Aegeus (i.e. Theseus) agreed, and he replied, "I shall make use of both your house and your advice," and he did (indeed) make use of both. He enters a hall built of porous pumice-stone and rough tufa: the ground was moist with soft moss; mussel-shells panelled the roof, alternately with purple oyster-shells.

And now, Hyperion (i.e. the Sun) having traversed two parts of the day, Theseus and the companions of his labours reclined on couches: on this (side of him) was the son of Ixion (i.e. Pirithoüs), (and) on that side (was) Lelex, the hero of Troezen, his temples already streaked with scattered grey (hairs), and others whom the Acarnanian river (god) (i.e. Acheloüs), very joyful at (entertaining) so great a guest, had deemed worthy of equal honour. Forthwith, bare-footed nymphs brought up tables and laid the feast on them, and, when the banquet had been removed, they served up unwatered wine in jewelled (goblets). That greatest of heroes (i.e. Theseus) looking at the sea lying beneath his eyes, says, "What (is) that place?" He points with his finger, and (says,) "Tell me the name which that island bears: and yet it does not seem (to be) a single (island)". To this the river (god) replies, "What you see is not one (island). Five (pieces of) land are lying (there): the distance conceals the gaps (between them). And, so that you may be less astonished at the action of the scorned Diana, these (islands) were (once) Naiads, who when they had slaughtered ten bullocks and had invited the rural gods to the sacrificial feast, led the festal dance, forgetting me (entirely). I swelled up and was as great as I flow whenever I (am) at my fullest, and, terrible alike in anger and in flood, I tore away woods from woods and fields from fields, (and) I swept the nymphs, now at last remembering me, together with the ground (on which they stood), into the sea. My flood and (that) of the sea separated the continuous land, and broke (it) into as many pieces as the Echinades (i.e. the Hedgehog Isles), (which) you can see in the midst of the sea. Yet, as you can see, far off, there in the distance an island, pleasing to me, lies apart; a mariner calls (it) Perimele: I took away the name of virgin from her whom I loved; her father Hippodamas took this badly, and pushed the doomed body of his daughter from a cliff into the sea. I caught (her) up, and, bearing (her) as she swam, said, 'O Trident-bearer, you who have received as your portion the kingdom of the waves, in which we, sacred rivers, end up (and) into which we flow, come hither, Neptune, and calmly hear (me) as I pray. I have injured her whom I carry. If her father Hippodamas had been merciful and fair-minded, or if he had been less unjust, he ought to have pitied her, (and) pardoned me. Bring help and grant a place of safety, I pray, Neptune, to (one) drowned by paternal savagery; or let her become a place herself. May I embrace it also'. The king of the sea moved his head and shook all of the waves in his agreement. The nymph was terrified, yet she swam. I myself touched her breast as she swam, throbbing (as it was) with an agitated motion. And as I touched it, I felt her whole body grow hard and her breast was concealed by the earth in (which it was) dressed. While I spoke, new earth clasped her floating body, and from her altered limbs a solid island grew (i.e. Perimele)."

G.  PHILEMON AND BAUCIS

Ll. 612-681.  Lelex tells the scoffer Pirithoüs how an old peasant Philemon and Baucis entertained Jupiter and Mercury.

With these words the river (god) was silent. His wonderful account had moved everyone. The son of Ixion scorns (those) who believed (it), both because he was a despiser of the gods and (because of) his headstrong nature, (and) he said, "You are telling stories, Acheloüs, and you think the gods are much too powerful, if (you think) they give and (then) take away natural shapes." All were aghast (at this), nor did they approve of such words, and, before everyone, Lelex, mature (both) in mind and in age, says thus: "The power of heaven is unmeasurable and has no bounds, and whatsoever the gods have decreed is accomplished. And in order that you may have less doubt, there is in the hills of Phrygia an oak-tree near to a linden, (both) surrounded by a low wall: I, myself, have seen the place, for Pittheus sent me into the lands of Pelops, once ruled by his own father. Not far from here is a swamp, once habitable land, (but) now waters frequented by divers and coots from the marshes. Jupiter came hither with the appearance of a mortal and with his father (came) the grandson of Atlas, the herald (i.e. Mercury) with his wings set aside. To a thousand homes they went, seeking a place to rest: bolts closed a thousand homes. However, one did receive (them), humble indeed, (and) roofed with straw and marsh reeds, but Baucis, a dutiful old woman, and Philemon of equal age were wedded in that (cottage) in their youthful years; they grew old in that cottage, and by admitting their poverty and by bearing (it) with a not impatient spirit they made light (of it). Nor does it matter there whether  you ask for the masters or the servants: the two (of them) are the whole household, (and) the same (two) both obey and give orders.

Therefore, when the heaven-dwellers arrived at the small home and went in through the low doors with bowed head, the old man bade (them) relax their limbs on a couch (which had been) placed (there), on which bustling Baucis threw a rough cloth. Then she stirred up the warm ash in the hearth and rekindles yesterday's fire and feeds (it) with leaves and dry bark and coaxes (it) into flames with her old woman's breath, and she brought down finely split sticks and dry twigs from the roof, and chopped them up and put them under a small bronze cauldron, and she strips of its leaves a cabbage which her husband had picked from his well-watered garden; with a two-pronged fork he lifts down the smoked back of a pig, hanging from a blackened beam, and he cuts off a small part from the back which had been preserved for a long time, and he makes tender (the piece) cut off in the boiling water.

Meanwhile, they beguile the intervening hours with conversation and prevent the delay being felt. There was a beech-wood bowl there, hung from a hook by its strong handle; it is filled with warm water and receives their limbs which need to be refreshed. In the middle (of the room), there is a mattress, (made) from soft sedge, placed upon a couch with a frame and feet of willow-wood; they cover this with a cloth, which they had not been accustomed to spread out except on a festal occasion, but even this cloth was both cheap and old, (although) deemed not unworthy of a willow-wood couch. The gods reclined. With her skirts tucked up and tremulous, the old woman places a table (beside them). But the third foot of the table was unequal (in height): a potsherd made (it) equal. As soon as this had been shoved underneath, it raised up the slope, (and) green mint wiped clean the levelled table. Here are placed two-coloured (i.e. green and black) berries of the virgin Minerva (i.e. olives), and autumn cornel-cherries preserved in flowing lees, and endives and radishes, and a lump of curdled milk (i.e. cheese), and eggs, lightly cooked in the warm embers, all (served) on earthenware (dishes). After these things, a carved mixing bowl of the same fine material (n.b. this is an ironical comment, as it is earthenware) is placed (there), as well as  cups made from beech-wood, coated with yellow wax where they are hollow (i.e. on the inside). There is a small delay, and then the hearth sent up the main course (i.e. the cabbage and smoked pork) piping-hot. And the wine, of no long vintage, is brought back again (i.e. it had been served previously with the appetisers), and, (then) being put aside for a while, it makes way for the second (course). Here there are nuts, here there are figs mixed with dried dates, and plums, and sweet-smelling apples in broad baskets, and grapes gathered from purple vines. In the middle (of the table) there is a gleaming honey-comb. Above all, there were pleasant faces and a good will, neither sluggish nor mean.

Ll. 682-727. How Philemon and Baucis, at last recognising their guests, were made guardians of their temple and were changed in extreme old age into trees.

Meanwhile, they see that, as often as the mixing bowl is drained, it is refilled of its own accord, and that the wine is supplied spontaneously: astonished by this strange happening they are fearful, and with upturned hands both Baucis and frightened Philemeon utter prayers and beg pardon for the meal and for their lack of preparation. There was a single goose, the guardian of the tiny house: the hosts were preparing to sacrifice it to the gods (who were their guests). Swift of wing, it exhausts (them), slowed down by age, and for a long time eludes (them), and at last it seemed to have fled for refuge to the gods themselves. The gods forbade (it) to be killed, and said, 'We are gods, and this impious neighbourhood will pay deserved penalties; (but) it shall be granted to you to be exempt from this disaster. Only leave your home and follow in our steps to the heights of the mountain'. They both obey and, supported by sticks, they struggle to place their footsteps up the long slope. They were as far away from the top as an arrow, which has been fired, is able to go in a single shot: they turned their eyes and see the rest (of the countryside) submerged by a flood, and that their house alone was remaining. And, while they gaze in wonder at these things and while they bewail the fate of their (friends), that old cottage, small even for two occupants, is changed into a temple: columns took the place of forked poles, the roof thatch grows yellow and the roof appears gilded, and the doors (appear) engraved, and the earth (appears) covered in marble. Then, the son of Saturn (i.e. Jupiter) uttered these things from his calm mouth: 'Tell (us), just old man and woman worthy of a just husband, what you desire'. Having spoken a few (words) with Baucis, Philemon reveals their shared decision: 'We ask to be priests and to watch over your shrine, and, since we have spent years together, may the same hour carry the two (of us) off, nor may I ever see the tomb of my wife nor may I (ever) have to be buried by her'. Fulfilment follows their prayer; they were guardians of the temple while life was granted (to them). Worn out by the years and by old age, when they happened to be standing before the sacred steps and were relating the fortunes of the place, Baucis (saw) Philemon sprouting leaves, and old Philemon saw Baucis sprouting leaves. And now, with a tree-top growing on top of both of their faces, they exchanged words in turn, while they (still) could, and they said, 'Farewell O spouse', at the same time as greenery covered and hid their faces.

The inhabitant of Thynia (i.e. Bithynia) still points to the neighbouring tree-trunks (sprung) from their two bodies (that were growing) there. Trustworthy old men recounted these things to me, nor was there (any reason) why they should wish to deceive (me). Indeed, I saw the wreathes hanging from the branches, and, placing some fresh (ones there), I said, 'Let the gods be the concern of the gods, and let (those) who have honoured (them) be honoured'."

H.  ERYSICHTHON

Ll. 728-779.  Acheloüs tells how Erysichthon the impious felled a tree in which dwelt a Dryad.

He (i.e. Lelex) had finished, and both the tale and the the teller had moved everyone, especially Theseus. The Calydonian river (god) (i.e. Acheloüs), leaning upon his elbow, addresses him, (who was) wishing to hear of the wondrous deeds of the gods, with these (words): "O bravest of men, there are (some) whose form has changed (only) once, and it has stayed in this new state; there are (some) who have the power to transform themselves into several shapes, like you, Proteus, inhabitant of the sea which encompasses the earth. For (men) saw you, now (as) a young man, now (as) a lion; now you were a violent boar, then a serpent whom they would be afraid to touch; now horns made you (into) a bull. Often, you could appear (as) a stone, often also (as) a tree: sometimes you were a river, imitating the appearance of flowing waters, sometimes fire, the opposite (element) to water.

"Nor has the wife of Autolycus, the daughter (i.e. Mestra) of Erysichthon (i.e. king of Thessaly), (any) less power. Her father was (the sort of man) who scorned the power of the gods and burned no fragrant offerings on the altars. He is even said to have violated the grove of Ceres with an axe and to have defiled the ancient woods with an iron (blade). An enormous oak-tree, with the strength of years, was standing in these (woods), a forest in itself: fillets and votive tablets and garlands surrounded its middle, the tokens of effective prayer. Often, the Dryads (i.e. Tree Nymphs) conducted festal dances underneath it: often they would also trip around the circumference of its trunk in order with hands joined, and the measure of the oak made up fifteen ells. And indeed the rest of the wood was as much lower than this (oak) as the grass was lower than all the wood.

"Yet the son of Triopas (i.e. Erysichthon) did not keep his axe away from it for this reason, but he orders his servants to cut down the sacred oak: and, when he saw (them) hesitating, (despite having been) ordered (to do so), the impious man seized an axe from one (of them) and  pronounced these words: 'Not only (though) beloved by the goddess but even though it may be the goddess herself, it will now reach the ground with its leafy tops'.

"He spoke, and, while he poised his weapon for a slanting blow, the oak-tree, sacred to Deo (i.e. Ceres), trembled greatly and gave a groan: and at the same time its leaves and its acorns began to grow pale and its long branches (began) to assume a pallor. As the impious hand made a gash on its trunk, blood flowed out from its shattered bark, just as, when a huge bull falls (as) a (sacrificial) victim before the altar, its gore is accustomed to burst forth from its severed neck.

"All were appalled: but one (man) among (them) all dares to prevent the crime, and restrain the savage axe. The Thessalian (i.e. Erysichthon) sees him and said, 'Take this reward for your pious mind!' and he turns his axe from the tree to the man, and lops off his head; and (then) he attacks the oak-tree anew and hews at (it), and the following sound is heard from the middle of the wood: 'I am the nymph beneath this tree, beloved of Ceres, who, as I die, prophesies that punishment for your deeds is at hand for you, (as) compensation for my death'. That (man) persists in his crime, and, at last, tottering under countless blows and pulled down by ropes, the tree collapsed and toppled over much of the wood by its weight.

Ll. 780-825.  How Erysichthon, for his sin, was smitten by Ceres with insatiable hunger.

"Horrified both by the forest's and their own loss, all her Dryad sisters come to Ceres, lamenting in black garments, and beg for the punishment of Erysichthon. She agreed with them, and, by the movement of her head, the (goddess) most fair shook the fields laden (as they were) with heavy corn; and she contrives a kind of punishment (which would have been) worthy of pity, if he had not been unworthy of anyone's pity, because of his own deeds, (namely) to rack (him) by deadly Hunger. Since she is not to be approached by the goddess in person - for the Fates do not allow both Ceres and Hunger to meet - , she hails a rural Oread (i.e. a Mountain Nymph), one of the mountain spirits, with these words: 'There is a place on the furthest borders of icy Scythia, a gloomy terrain, a barren land without crops, (and) without trees. Sluggish Cold, and Pallor and Trembling live there, and (so does) barren Hunger. Command that she (i.e. Hunger) hide herself in the accursed heart of that sacrilegious (man), and that an abundance of foodstuffs should not conquer her, and that she should overcome me in any trial of strength. And so that the length of the journey should not frighten you, take my chariot, take my dragons, whom you may guide on high by the reins'. And she gave (them to her): after the chariot has been given, she (i.e. the Oread), soars through the air, and arrives in Scythia, and on the top of a frozen mountain - they call (it) the Caucasus - she freed the necks of the dragons, and, looking for Hunger, she saw (her) in a stony field, plucking at the scanty grass with her nails and teeth. Her hair was matted, her eyes (were) hollow, (there was) a pallor in her face, her lips (were) grey with disuse, her throat (was) rough with scurf, her skin, through which her vital organs could be seen, (was) drawn tight, her dry bones stood out beneath her sagging loins, the space for a stomach was in place of a stomach, (and) you would have thought her breasts hung (free) and were supported only by the framework of her spine. Her emaciation had magnified her joints, and the round of her knees was swollen, and her ankles bulged in great swellings. When she saw her from afar - for she did not dare to come up close (to her) - , she reports the commands of the goddess: while she (only) lingered (there) for a little, (and) although she remained far off, (and) although she had only (just) arrived there, yet she (still) seemed to feel hunger; and she drove the dragons back to Haemonia (i.e. Thessaly), directing (them) on high with the reins. Hunger carries out Ceres' commands, although she is always opposed to her work, and she was carried through the air on the wind to the appointed palace, and forthwith she enters the bed-chamber of the sacrilegious (man), and she embraces (him)  with both her arms (as he is) relaxed in a deep sleep - for (it was) night time - , and she breathes herself into the man, and breathes upon his throat and his breast and his mouth, and sows hunger into his hollow veins. And, having accomplished her mandate, she forsakes the world of plenty and returns to her accustomed caves in the abodes of the destitute.

Ll. 826-887.  How Erysichthon's hunger drove him at last to sell his daughter into slavery; how she was changed by Neptune, her lover, into a man, and how she thereafter had power to assume many forms.

"Gentle sleep on her peaceful wings caressed Erysichthon: under the dream of sleep he seeks a feast, and he moves his jaws in vain and grinds tooth on tooth, and he keeps his deluded throat busy with imagined food, and for a banquet he devours thin air in vain. But, when sleep is driven away, a craving for eating rages through his ravenous throat and governs his cavernous entrails. Nor (is there) any delay: he demands (all) that sea, (all) that earth, (all) that air can produce, and, although tables (of food) are placed before (him), he (still) complains of hunger, and, in the midst of banquets, he seeks banquets; and what (could) be (enough) for (whole) cities, what could (be) enough for a nation does not suffice for a single (man), and the more (food) he lowers into his belly, the more he desires. And (just) as the ocean receives rivers from the whole earth, and is not satisfied with the water, but drinks up far-away rivers, and (just) as a raging fire never refuses food, but burns countless logs, and the greater supply (that) is given, the more it seeks, and the more voracious it is because of the very quantity (of fuel supplied); so, the lips of the profane Erysichthon receive every banquet, and he demands (them) at the same time. In him all food is for the sake of food, and his belly always becomes empty by eating.

"And now he had diminished his ancestral wealth through hunger and through the deep abyss of his stomach, but then his dreadful hunger still remained undiminished, and the flame of his unappeased belly burned. At last, after (all) his wealth had been lowered into his gut, (only) his daughter (i.e. Mestra) was left, (a girl) not worthy of that father. In his poverty, he even sold her. The noble (girl) rejected her master, and, stretching out her palms over the nearby sea, she said: '(O you) who has the prize of my virginity, (which you) snatched from me, rescue me from my master.' Neptune had this prize. He did not scorn her prayer, although she had only (just) been seen by her master (who was) following (her), and he changes her shape and puts a male face (on her) and an attire suited to (men) catching fish. Her master, catching sight of her, says, 'O (you) manager of the fishing-rod, who conceals your hanging bronze hook with a little food, so (may) the sea be calm, so may you have a gullible fish in the waves, and may it perceive no hooks unless (it is) pierced:  tell (me) where she is who was standing on this shore a moment ago with her shabby clothing and her dishevelled hair - for I did see (her) standing on this shore - :indeed her foot-prints are no longer visible'. She realises that the gift of the god was turning out well, and, delighted that she was being questioned about herself, she replied to his enquiry with these (words): 'May you forgive (me), whoever you are: I have not turned my eyes in any direction away from this pool, and I have stuck to my pursuit, (as I have been totally) absorbed (in it). And so that you may have no doubt - so may the god of the sea assist these skills (of mine) - , no man except me has stood on this shore for a long time, nor any woman (either).' Her master believed (her), and, turning his feet (around), he trod the sand, and, having been fooled, he went away. Her shape was restored to her.

"But, when her father realised that his (daughter) had a body capable of changing its form, he sells the granddaughter of Triopas (i.e. Mestra) to (new) masters quite often. But she, now a mare, now a bird, now a cow, now a deer, continued to get away, and bestowed stolen food on her greedy father. But, when that force of his affliction had consumed all his wealth, and he had given over (any) new food to his virulent malady, he himself began to tear apart his own limbs with a lacerating bite, and the wretched man nourished his body by diminishing (it).

"(But) why do I dwell on external (instances)? I (i.e. Acheloüs), O young man, (i.e. Theseus),  also have the limited power of a body which can often be changed in a number (of ways). For sometimes I seem as I am just now, sometimes I am turned into a snake, sometimes, (as) the leader of a herd, I assume the strength (which is) in my horns, (at least) while I (still) could. Now, the other side of my forehead lacks its weapon, as you yourself can see (n.b. his lost horn had been broken off in a struggle with Hercules)." Groans followed his words.


Thursday 18 March 2010

THUCYDIDES: THE PLAGUE AT ATHENS; FROM "THE PELOPONNESIAN WAR" BOOK II

Introduction.

Thucydides' great "History of the Peloponnesian War" stood as the model for all subsequent historians in antiquity, whether writing in Greek or Latin, and as a foremost exemplar of Attic Greek. Book II of this history contains Thucydides' famous account of the plague which broke out in Athens in 430 B.C., that is in the second year of the Peloponnesian War of 431-404 B.C. Thucydides was an eye witness of the plague and its effects, and indeed even caught it himself, although he was fortunate enough to recover from it. Although this terrible outbreak of sickness has traditionally been called the "Plague of Athens" it was almost certainly not a case of the bubonic plague such as struck Europe and the Near East in 1347 A.D., known as the Black Death, since, as is clear from Thucydides' account, the disease was infectious between people, whereas bubonic plague was contracted via the bite of fleas from black rats from boats. Furthermore this Athenian plague did not spread significantly to other places, as would have been almost inevitable in the case of bubonic plague. In 2006 A.D. a team of scientists claimed to have found in fossilised dental pulp from the period evidence of Salmonella enterica, the bacterium that causes typhoid fever. Whatever the cause of the outbreak, however, the consequences for the population of Athens, temporarily over-crowded by the presence of so many refugees from the outlying areas of Attica, were devastating. Thucydides provides an objective and detailed account of the plague and brings out the horror that it involved for the people of Athens. The translation below is taken from the Greek text provided by W.T.Sutthery, M.A. and A.S. Graves, M.A. in the Macmillan Elementary Classics series (1912). The account of the plague in Chapters 47-54 is prefaced by the account in Chapter 34 of the arrangements traditionally made by the Athenians for citizens falling in warfare.

Chapter 34. Funerals at Athens of those who had fallen in the first summer of the war.

In the same winter the Athenians, using the custom of their fathers, undertook in the following way a burial at the public expense of those who had died first in this war. Having made a tent three days beforehand, they lay out the bones of those who have died, and each man brings to his own relative whatever he wishes. Whenever the funeral procession occurs, wagons conduct coffins of cypress-wood, one for each tribe; the bones are contained in the coffin of the tribe in which each man was. One empty bier is carried, decorated (in honour) of the missing, who could not be found for the purpose of burial. Anyone wishing (to do so) among the citizens and among the foreigners joins in the procession, and female relatives are present to lament at the tomb. And so they place them in the public sepulchre, which is in the most beautiful suburb of the city, and they always bury in it those (who have fallen) in the wars except those (who fought) at Marathon; judging the courage of those men (to be so) conspicuous they made (them) their tomb on the spot. When they have laid (them) in the earth, a man chosen by the state who is not insignificant in opinion and reputation and who may be prominent in renown pronounces an appropriate eulogy over them; after this they retire. They bury (them) thus. And throughout the whole of the war, whenever this happened to them, they employed this custom. And so over those (who had fallen) first (in the war) Pericles, the (son) of Xanthippus, was chosen to speak.

Chapter 47. In the second year of the war the Peloponnesians invade Attica, and there is an outbreak of the plague.

In such a way did the funeral take place in this winter. It having been gone through, the first year of this war was completed. With the summer beginning, the Peloponnesians and their allies, two parts (of their army) as before, invaded Attica; Archidamus, the (son) of Zeuxidamus, the king of the Lacedaemonians, was in command. And having taken up position they ravaged the country. And when they had as yet been not many days in Attica, the plague first began to show itself among the Athenians, (the complaint) being said to have broken out in many places previously, both around Lemnos and in other places, (but) not however was so great a pestilence or mortality of such a kind remembered to have occurred anywhere (else). For neither could the doctors avail (anything) at first, treating (it) in ignorance, but they themselves died particularly in proportion as they especially came into contact (with it), nor (did) any other human skill (avail anything.) As much as there were supplications at the temples or at the oracles and they employed (other) such things, all (these) were useless, and, bringing them to an end, they desisted from them, being overcome by the disaster.

Chapter 48. The supposed origin of the plague.

It began at first, as it is said, from Ethiopia beyond Egypt, and then descended into Egypt and Libya and into much of the territory of the King. It fell suddenly upon the city of the Athenians, and it fastened first on the people of Piraeus, such that it was said by them that the Peloponnesians had thrown poison into the cisterns. For there were not yet any wells there. And afterwards it reached the upper city, and now they were dying much more. Let him say about it as each man knows, whether (he be) a physician or a layman, from which (time) it was likely to have happened, and what causes he thinks were sufficient to have the power to bring about such a great change. I shall describe such as is known, and from what (symptoms) anyone observing, if it should ever break out again, should know very well, having had enough foreknowledge not to be ignorant, I shall point these things out, having had the disease myself and myself having seen others suffering (from it).

Chapter 49. Symptoms and course of the disease at each of its three stages and the permanent after effects.

For that year, as was admitted, out of all (years) happened to be especially free of sickness in respect of other kinds of infirmity; and if anyone was also at all ill previously everything resulted in this (i.e. the plague). But suddenly, from no ostensible cause, violent heats in the head and redness and inflammation of the eyes first seized those who were healthy, and, within, both the throat and the tongue were at once blood-red and the breath emitted something peculiarly fetid; then, after these (symptoms) sneezing and hoarseness came next, and in not much time the trouble descended on to the chest with a harsh cough; and, whenever it settled in the stomach, it upset it, and all discharges of bile such as have been named by doctors ensued, and all this ( lit. the same) with great distress. In most cases ineffectual retching took hold, producing a violent spasm, in some cases ceasing (soon) after this, in other cases much later even. Externally, the body was not very hot to the touch nor pallid, but reddish, livid and breaking out in small pustules and ulcers; but, internally, it burned such that they could neither endure contact with very fine clothing, and linen even, nor anything other than (being) naked, and most gladly would they have cast themselves into cold water. And many of the neglected people even did this, (plunging) into the cisterns, being in the grasp of an unending thirst. More and less drink resulted in the same thing. Besides this, the misery of not resting and sleeplessness tormented (them) throughout. And the body at whatsoever time the disease was reaching the crisis did not fade away but withstood the agony beyond expectation, so that the majority either succumbed on the ninth or the seventh day through the internal inflammation, still having some strength (left), or, if they escaped (that), (with) the disorder going down into the bowels and a violent ulceration arising there and uncontrollable diarrhoea attacking (them) at the same time, many died afterwards through weakness because of this. The disease, having settled first in the head, starting from above took its course through the whole of the body, and, if anyone survived from its worst effects, a seizure of the extremities remained as a mark of this (disease); for it swooped down upon their genitals, and upon their fingers and toes, and many, having been deprived of these, escaped, but there were (those) who (were deprived) of their eyes also. Equally, loss of memory of everything seized some and they did not know both themselves and their relatives.

Chaper 50. The bodies of plague victims are avoided by both birds of prey and dogs.

For the nature of this disease having been too dire for description, it especially attacked each person with more hardship than is within the scope of human nature, and it showed that it was particularly something other than anything familiar in the following (circumstances); for the birds and the beasts that prey upon humans, (although) many were lying unburied, either did (not) come near (them) or died, having tasted (them). The proof was an evident lack of such birds, and they were not seen either otherwise (engaged) or near any such object (as the bodies); but the dogs offered an (even) better indication of observing the effect (on animals) because of their association (with men).

Chapter 51. No remedy is of any avail.

And so the disease, to (one) omitting the many other peculiarities, as it happened to each somewhat differently to one as compared with another, was such in respect of its general nature. And nothing else among the usual diseases had added to their sufferings during (all) of that time; and, if any case occurred, it ended in this (i.e. the plague). Some died in neglect, others (in spite of) being tended completely. And there was not one single established specific remedy as to what it was said to be expedient to offer as help. For what (was) beneficial to one person harmed another. The body that was self-sufficient was in no way conspicuous in respect of this disease as regards strength or weakness, but it laid hold of everyone together, even those being tended with every diet. The most terrible thing of the whole malady was the despondency (that occurred) whenever anyone perceived that he was ill, for, turning at once to despair, they abandoned themselves much more by this attitude, and they did not (try to) withstand (it), and that they died like sheep, becoming infected through nursing, the one from the other; and this wrought (among them) the greatest mortality. For if, having been afraid, they were not willing to come near one another, they died in desolation, and many houses were emptied through the lack of anyone prepared to nurse; if they did visit, they died, and especially so in the case of those making some pretensions to goodness; for shame made them unsparing of themselves, entering the homes of their friends when even the inmates, giving up their lamentations for the dead, were worn out, overcome by this great disaster. Nevertheless, those who had escaped (from the disease) showed pity for the dying and the sick to a greater extent on account of their experience and as they themselves were now in a position of boldness; for it did not attack the same man twice so that he was killed also. They were congratulated by the others and they themselves in the joy of the moment had to some extent the vain hope that in the future they might not ever yet be killed by (any) other disease.

Chapter 52. The crowded state of the city aggravated the evil.

Besides the existing difficulty, the gathering together from the fields into the city oppressed them more, and not least the newcomers. For, with no houses being available, and (them) dwelling in stifling huts in the (hot) season of the year, death occurred with no order, but dead bodies lay upon one another and half-dead (creatures) were staggering about in the streets and around all the fountains in their longing for water. The sacred enclosures in which they were dwelling were full of the corpses of people who had died inside there; for, the disaster being so overwhelming, the people not knowing what was to become (of them) developed an indifference to things both sacred and profane alike. All the ceremonies which they formerly used with regard to burials were disrupted, and they buried (the dead) as each man could. And many, through lack of the necessary things, because of the considerable number who had already died in their households, turned to shameful modes of burial: for some, anticipating those raising a pile, (and) laying their own corpse on another's pyre, ignited (it), (and) others, throwing (the corpse) which they were carrying on top of another which was burning, (then) went away.

Chapter 53. The utter lack of order and decency.

In other respects also the plague first initiated lawlessness in the city to a greater extent. For a man more easily ventured what he had formerly hidden so that he could not do it (publicly) as a pleasure, seeing the rapid change of the prosperous dying and those who had acquired nothing previously at once possessing their property. So they deemed it worthy to make their enjoyments swift and in the direction of pleasure, regarding their bodies and their property as equally short-lived. No one was eager to persevere in what seemed honourable, thinking (it) doubtful he would attain it before he was destroyed; what (was) already pleasant and what (was) profitable to him in any way, this was settled (as) both honourable and useful. No fear of gods or law of men held (him) back, as to the former matter, judging that to worship and not (to do so) (ended) in a similar result as he saw everyone perishing from it alike, while as to their offences (against men), no one expected to live until the occurrence of justice and the handing down of punishment, (thinking that) the (sentence) already having been pronounced against themselves was hanging over (them) more heavily, (and) that before it fell on (them) it was reasonable to enjoy life a little.

Chapter 54. Current superstitions.

Collapsing, the Athenians were oppressed by such suffering, men dying within (the city) and the land outside being ravaged. During their distress, such as was natural, they remembered this verse, the old men saying that it was recited of old:

" a Dorian war will come and with it death".

And so a dispute arose among the people as to whether it had not been named death but dearth in this verse by the ancients, but the version death naturally prevailed at the present time; for the men adapted their memory to what they had suffered. Certainly, I think that if another Dorian war should come upon (us) later then this and it should happen that a dearth arises, they will recite it thus according to what is natural. A memory of the oracle (given) to the Lacedaemonians occurred to those who knew (of it), when they asked the god themselves whether it was right to go to war, (and) he answered that, if they fought with all their might victory would be theirs, and he said that he himself would assist (them). They calculated that what was happening was in line with the oracle; the Peloponnesians having invaded, the plague began at once. And it did not enter into the Peloponnese, at least (to an extent) that it is worthy to mention, but took possession of Athens particularly, and then also of the most populous towns. These (were) the happenings in connection with the plague.

Friday 12 March 2010

HOMER: ILIAD BOOK I: THE RAGE OF ACHILLES

Introduction.

Following his translations of books 4 and 6 of Virgil's "Aeneid", Sabidius now offers a translation of the first book of the "Iliad", Homer's epic poem about the fall of Troy. Not only was the the "Iliad" the first poem in European literature, having almost certainly existed for centuries in oral form before being written down in the eighth century BCE, it is one of the most influential works of literature of all time and established the genre of epic poetry. For Greeks and later for Romans it was at the centre of their educational and cultural milieu, and provided an inexhaustible treasury of speech and action through which both their imagination and moral awareness were nourished. The First Book, in all its rousing language, tells of the damaging feud that broke out in the tenth year of the siege of Troy between King Agamemnon of Mycenae, the leader of the Greek expeditionary force and Achilles, the most celebrated warrior in his army. As in his earlier renderings of the "Aeneid", Sabidius seeks to keep as closely as possible to the structure of the words used by Homer. The text used is that of J.A. Harrison and R.H. Jordan, Bristol Classical Press (1983), and follows too the sub-headings by which they conveniently divide the text itself. Although the Old Ionic dialect, in which Homer writes contains a number of words and word endings which are alien to Attic Greek, these are not a significant barrier to one's appreciation of the beautiful hexameter rhythm in which the "Iliad" is cast.

Ll. 1-7. Sing, Muse, of the wrath of achilles and his quarrel with Agamemnon.

Sing, goddess, of the accursed wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus, which caused countless griefs to the Achaeans, and sent down prematurely to Hades many mighty souls of heroes and made them prey to all the dogs and birds of prey, and the decree of Zeus was accomplished, (starting) from the time that both the son of Atreus, lord of men, and godlike Achilles were at variance, quarrelling for the first time.

Ll. 8-21. Chryses, a priest of Apollo, seeks to ransom his daughter who was Agamemnon's war prize.

Which of the gods brought together the two of them in strife so as to fight? The son of Leto and Zeus: for he, having been angered by the king, let loose a vile plague throughout the army, and the army was being destroyed, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses, his priest; for he had come to the swift ships of the Achaeans in order to ransom his daughter and bearing a ransom past counting, and holding in his hands the wreaths of Apollo the far-shooter upon his golden staff, and he entreated all the Achaeans, and especially the two sons of Atreus, the marshals of the army (thus): "Sons of Atreus and you other well-greaved Achaeans, may the gods having their home on Olympus, grant to you the destruction of the city of Priam, and to arrive home safely; but please set free to me my dear child, and accept this ransom, reverencing the son of Zeus, Apollo the far-shooter".

Ll. 22-42. Agamemnon dismisses Chryses with threats. The priest asks Apollo to punish the Greeks.

Then all the other Achaeans shouted their agreement both to reverence the priest and to accept the splendid ransom; but it was not pleasing to the mind of Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, but he sent him on his way shamefully, and he laid a stern word on him: "May I not find you, old man, by our hollow ships, either lingering now or coming back again later, lest indeed your staff and the woollen bands of the god are not helpful to you; and I shall not release her; and (long) before that old age will reach her in our house in Argos, far from her native-land, working at the loom and sharing my bed; but go, do not provoke me, so that you may get away more safely." Thus he spoke, and the old man was afraid and obeyed the advice; he went silently along the shore of the loud-roaring ocean; then going far away he prayed to lord Apollo, to whom lovely-haired Leto gave birth: "Hear me, lord of the silver bow, (you) who has protected Chryse and very sacred Cilla and rules with strength over Tenedos, (you who are called) Smintheus (i.e. Mouse-god), if ever I have built a shrine which is pleasing to you, or if ever I have burned for you fat thigh-flesh of bulls and goats, fulfil this prayer of mine; may the Danaans atone for my tears with your arrows".

Ll. 43-67. Apollo's arrows rain death. Achilles summons an assembly.

Thus he spoke in prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him, and he came down from the peaks of Olympus with anger in his heart, the bow on his shoulders with its enclosing quiver and indeed arrows clattered on the shoulders of (him) in his anger, when (the god) himself moved (lit. he himself having moved). He came like night. He settled down at a distance from the ships, and he let loose an arrow: and a fearful twang arose from the silver bow. First, he attacked the mules and the swift running dogs, but then, having then sent sharp arrows at (the men) themselves, he kept hitting (them); and always there burned the crowded pyres of the dead. For nine days the arrows of the god sped throughout the army, (but) on the tenth day Achilles called the people to an assembly. For the white-armed goddess Hera had put (this) into his mind: for she was concerned for the Danaans when she saw them dying. So, when they had been called together and they were gathered together, swift-footed Achilles, standing up among them, spoke: "Son of Atreus, I think that we, having now been driven back, should return home again, supposing that we can escape death, if indeed both war and plague together are to ravage the Achaeans; but come, let us ask some prophet or priest, or even an interpreter of dreams, for dreams too are from Zeus, who may tell (us) why Phoebus Apollo has become so very angry (with us), whether indeed he finds fault with our prayer or our public sacrifice, if somehow, having accepted the savour of unblemished lambs and goats, he is willing to drive the plague away from us".

Ll. 68-91. Calchas says he knows why Apollo is angry. Achilles guarantees his protection.

Then indeed, speaking thus, he sat down; then there stood up among us Calchas, son of Thestor, by far the best of augurs, who knew what is, what will be, and what was before, and he guided the ships of the Achaeans into Ilium through the art of divination, which Phoebus Apollo had granted to him; he addressed them with good will, and spoke (to them): "O Achilles, beloved of Zeus, you have asked me to tell you of the anger of Apollo the lord who shoots from afar; so then I shall speak. But you take heed and swear to me that you will readily protect me with words and in action. For I think that I shall anger a man who rules strongly over the Argives, and the Achaeans obey him. For a king (is) stronger whenever he may be angry with a lesser man; if indeed he may even repress his anger on the day itself, yet he keeps resentment afterwards within his breast until he can fulfil it; so you consider if you will protect me". Then in answer the swift-footed Achilles spoke to him: "Be bold, and tell (us) freely the prophecy which you know; for I swear by Apollo, beloved of Zeus, while praying to whom you, Calchas, disclose your prophecies to the Danaans, no man among all the Danaans with me living and breathing upon the earth will lay heavy hands upon you by our hollow ships, not even if you speak of Agamemnon, who now claims to be by far the best of the Achaeans".

Ll. 92-120. Calchas says that they must return Chryseis. Agamemnon rages and demands another prize in her place.

Then, the excellent seer took courage and spoke: "He faults neither our prayer nor our sacrifice, but for the sake of his priest who Agamemnon dishonoured, nor has he released his daughter and he did not accept the ransom; on this account the far-shooter has given (us) griefs and will give (us) still (more); nor will he drive the shameful plague from the Danaans until we give the bright-eyed girl back to her dear father without price and without ransom, and take a holy hecatomb to Chryse; then, after appeasing him, we might persuade him (to change his mind)". Then indeed, he having spoken thus sat down, and there stood up among them the hero son of Atreus, wide-ruler Agamemnon, greatly distressed. His black mind was greatly filled all around with rage, and his eyes were like blazing fire. Threatening evil, he addressed Calchas especially: "Prophet of evil you have not yet said anything useful to me; always it is dear to your mind to prophesy evil things, and you have not yet spoken nor brought to fulfilment any good word. And now you declare, prophesying among the Danaans, that on account of this the far-shooter prepares griefs for them because I was not willing to accept the splendid ransom for the girl Chryseis, since I very much wish to keep her in my home; for indeed I do prefer (her) to Clytemnestra, my wedded wife, since she is not inferior to her in body or in stature nor in mind nor in any household tasks. But even so I am willing to give (her) back again, if that (is) better; I wish my people to be safe rather than to be destroyed. But you must immediately make ready a prize for me so that I am not alone among the Argives without a prize, since that it is not proper; for you all see this, the fact that my prize is going elsewhere".

Ll.121-129. Achilles promises him compensation when Troy is captured.

Then swift-footed godlike Achilles answered him: "Most glorious son of Atreus, most covetous of all men, how shall the great-hearted Achaeans give you a gift? Nor do we know of any great common stores lying anywhere; but the things which we exacted from the cities, these things have been divided up, and it is not seemly that the army should collect these (things) up again and gather (them) together. But you must now return her to the god; however, we Achaeans will recompense (you) if ever at all Zeus grants (to us) that we shall sack the well-walled city of Troy".

Ll. 130-147. Agamemnon says he will seize someone else's prize. He arranges for Chryseis to be taken home.

Then, in answer, lord Agamemnon spoke to him: "Do not deceive me thus in your mind, godlike Achilles, brave though you are, since you will not outwit nor persuade me. Or do you wish, so that you can keep your prize, that I should sit like this without a prize, (since) you tell me to give her back? (No), but if the great-hearted Achaeans will give (me) a prize, suiting it to my wishes, in order that it may be equivalent to (the one I shall lose), (well, then, that's all right!) But, if they will not give (it), I, myself, shall come and take for myself either your prize, or that of Ajax, or that of Odysseus, and, having taken (it), I shall carry (it) off. And, whomever I come to, he will be angry. But, to be sure, we shall also consider these (things) again later. But come now, let us launch a black ship into the holy sea, and in (it) let us gather rowers, and let us put in (the ship) a hecatomb, and let us take on board the fair-cheeked daughter of Chryses herself; and let some man of counsellor status be her captain, whether Ajax, or Idomeneus, or godlike Odysseus, or you, son of Peleus, most terrible of all men, so that, offering sacrifice, you may appease the one who smites from afar on our behalf".

Ll.148-171. Achilles taunts Agamemnon for his greed and threatens to return home.

Then, swift-footed Achilles, glancing (at him) with a scowl, addressed him: "Ah me! you crafty-minded one, clothed in impudence, how is anyone of the Achaeans to obey your words willingly, either to go on a journey, or to fight men with all his strength? For I have not come here in order to fight the spearmen of the Trojans, since they are in no way guilty as far as I am concerned; for they have not yet ever driven away my cattle nor yet my horses, nor have they ever ravaged the crops in very fertile Phthia, nurse of men, since there are very many things between (us), both shady mountains and the sounding sea; but we followed after you, O you great shameless one, in order that you might be glad, winning recompense from the Trojans for Menelaus and for yourself, (you) dog-face; you do not show regard for these things at all, nor do you concern yourself about them; and you yourself even threaten to take away my prize, for which I laboured hard, and (which) the sons of the Achaeans gave me. Whenever the Achaeans sack a well-peopled town of the Trojans, I do not have a prize ever equal to yours; no, but my hands perform the greater (part) of the furious fighting; but, whenever an apportionment is arrived at, your prize is by far the bigger, and, when I have become weary fighting, I go to my ships holding a (prize that is) small but nonetheless dear. Now, I shall go to Phthia, since it is certainly better by far to go homewards with my beaked ships, nor do I intend, while I am being dishonoured here, to amass riches and wealth for you."

Ll.172-187. Agamemnon replies angrily. He will take Briseis, Achilles' war prize.

Then, Agamemnon, lord of men, addressed him: "Flee far away, if your mind has been agitated, nor do I beg you to remain on account of me; with me still (are) others who will honour me, especially the all-wise Zeus. Of the kings nurtured by Zeus, you are the most hateful to me. For strife (is) always dear to you, and wars and battles. If you are very strong, doubtless a god gave this to you. Going home with your ships and your companions, lord it over your Myrmidons, I do not care about (you) nor do I heed (you) in your wrath. But I shall threaten you thus: since Phoebus Apollo takes away from me the daughter of Chryses, I will send her back with my ship and my companions, but I, myself, shall come to your hut and lead away the fair-cheeked Briseis, your prize, so that you will know how much stronger I am than you, and another too may shrink from speaking to me as an equal, and matching himself openly (with me)".

Ll.188-222. Athene appears and stops Achilles from killing Agamemnon.

Thus he spoke. And distress arose for the son of Peleus, and within his shaggy breast his heart pondered (the choice) between two (alternative) options, whether he, having drawn his sharp sword from his thigh, should disperse those assembled and kill the son of Atreus, or whether he should stay his anger and check his heart. While he was pondering this within his mind and within his heart, and he was drawing his great sword from its sheath, Athene came (down) from heaven. For the white-armed goddess Hera had sent (her), as she both loved and cared for both men in her heart alike. She stood behind (him), and, visible to him alone, she caught the son of Peleus by his yellow hair; and of the rest no one beheld (her). Achilles was astonished and turned around, and knew Pallas Athene immediately. And her eyes flashed terribly; speaking winged words, he addressed her: "Why have you come again, child of aegis-bearing Zeus? Is it in order that you may see the insolence of Agamemnon, son of Atreus? But I shall tell you something which I think will be accomplished: someday soon he will lose his life through his great conceit.". Then, the bright-eyed goddess Athene said to him again: "I have come from heaven in order to stop your fury, if indeed you will obey (me); the white-armed goddess Hera sent me forth, both loving and caring for both of you equally in her heart. Come then, cease from your strife, nor draw your sword with your hand. But then reproach (him) with words (by telling him) how it will certainly be. For I will speak out thus, and this thing will indeed be accomplished. And some day glorious gifts, three times as many, will be present for you on account of this insolence; but you restrain yourself and obey us". Answering, swift-footed Achilles spoke to her: "It is necessary, goddess, that (I) observe the word of the two of you, even though (I) am very angry at heart; for (it is) better so. Whoever obeys the gods, they listen to him especially." He spoke, and checked his heavy hand on the silver hilt and pushed his great sword back into the scabbard, nor did he disobey the word of Athene; but she had gone to Olympus, to the house of aegis-bearing Zeus to join the other gods.

Ll. 223-244. Achilles increases his taunts.

The son of Peleus again addressed the son of Atreus with insulting words, and he had not yet ceased from his anger: "Drunkard, having the eyes of a dog and the heart of a deer, you have never had the courage in your heart to arm yourself for war together with your people, nor to go with the chiefs of the Achaeans into ambush: that would seem to you to involve (the risk) of death. Throughout the broad camp of the Achaeans, it is certainly better to take away prizes from whoever speaks up against you. People-devouring king (that you are), (you can only do this,) because you rule over worthless people; for (otherwise), son of Atreus, you would now be acting outrageously for the last time. But I shall speak out to you, and in addition I shall swear a great oath: truly by this staff, it will not ever produce leaves and shoots, since it first left its stump in the mountains, nor will it (ever) sprout again, for the bronze (knife) has stripped it of its leaves and bark on all sides; now indeed the sons of the Achaeans carry it in their hands (when they act as) judges, and they guard the decrees (that come) from Zeus; and this oath will be a mighty one for you. Certainly a longing for Achilles will one day come upon all the sons of the Achaeans; then, though in distress, you will not be able to help (them), when many shall fall dying at the hands of murderous Hector; but you will rend your heart within (you) in anger, because you did not honour in any way the best of the Achaeans".

Ll. 245-284. Old Nestor from Pylos tries to heal the quarrel.

So the son of Peleus spoke, and he hurled the staff studded with golden nails to the ground, and sat down himself; and, on the other side, the son of Atreus continued to rage; then there sprang up before them the sweet-speaking Nestor, the clear-toned orator speaker of the men of Pylos, from whose tongue flowed a voice sweeter than honey. Within his lifetime two generations of articulate men, who were previously born and bred together with him in sacred Pylos, had now passed away, and he was ruling among the third; in good faith he spoke to them and addressed (the assembly): "For shame, great grief is surely reaching the Achaean land. Priam and the sons of Priam would indeed rejoice, and the other Trojans would be greatly pleased at heart, if they were to learn all this about you two quarrelling, (you) who (are) superior to the (other) Danaans both at counsel, and in war. But hearken (unto me): you are both younger than me. For I once associated with even better men than you, and they did not ever despise me. For I have never since seen such men, nor am I likely to do so, (men) such as Peirithous and Dryas, shepherd of his people, and Caeneus and Exadius and godlike Polyphemus, and Theseus, the son of Aegeus, image of the immortals. They were the mightiest of men reared upon the earth; they were the mightiest and they fought with the mightiest mountain-bred wild beasts, and utterly destroyed (them). I associated with these men, coming from Pylos, from afar from a distant land; for they themselves summoned (me); and I fought on my own account; not one of those who are now mortals upon the earth could fight with them; and they took heed of my counsels and obeyed my word. But you too should obey (me), since (it is) better to listen. You, though being great, do not take the girl away from him, but let (her remain), as the sons of the Achaeans first gave (her to him) as a prize; nor should you, son of Peleus, be willing to quarrel with the king face to face, since a sceptre-bearing king to whom Zeus has given glory never shares equal honour (with other men). While you may be strong, and a goddess mother may have given birth to you, yet he is the stronger since he rules over more people. Son of Atreus, I beg (you) to restrain your fury against Achilles, who is a great bulwark for all the Achaeans in this evil war".

Ll. 285-303. The quarrel continues. Achilles will yield Briseis but nothing else.

Then, in answer, lord Agamemnon addressed him: "Yes, you said all these things, old man, in accordance with what is right. But this man wishes to be superior to all others, he wishes to have power over all, to rule over all, and to dictate to all, in which matters I think (there is) someone (who) will not obey (him). If the immortal gods did make him a warrior, so do his insults rush forward (like so many warriors) for him to utter?" Interrupting, godlike Achilles addressed him: "Surely I should be called cowardly and worthless, if I should give way to you in everything, whatever you may say. Give these orders to others but do not give orders to me, for I think I shall not obey you any longer. And I shall tell you another thing, and you should consider (this) in your mind; I shall not fight hand to hand for the sake of the girl either with you or with any other man, since you have taken (her) from me after giving (her to me); but of the other things which are mine by my swift black ship, you will not take up and bear off any of those things, against my will. But come now, just try (it), so that these men (here) will know (what will happen): your dark blood will straightway flow around my spear".

Ll. 304-317. A ship is launched and Chryseis is put on board. Agamemnon sacrifices to Apollo.

When the two of them, having contended with violent words, stood up, they broke up the assembly by the ships of the Achaeans. The son of Peleus went to his huts and his well-balanced ships together with the son of Menoetius and his companions; the son of Atreus pulled forward a fast ship to the sea, and he chose twenty oarsmen and he put on board a hecatomb for the god, and, bringing the fair-cheeked Chryseis, he placed her on board; wily Odysseus went on board as captain. Then, they embarked and set sail over the watery ways, but the son of Atreus ordered the army to purify (itself); and they purified (themselves) and cast the defilement into the sea, and they offered to Apollo unblemished hecatombs of bulls and goats by the shore of the restless sea; the savour reached the sky, whirling around in the smoke.

Ll. 318-356. Agamemnon's messengers take Briseis away. Achilles complains to his mother, the sea-goddess Thetis.

So the men busied themselves with matters connected with the camp; nor would Agamemnon give up the quarrel which he first threatened against Achilles, but he addressed Talthybius and Eurybates who were his heralds and ready attendants: "Go to the hut of Achilles, son of Peleus: take by the hand the fair-cheeked Briseis, and lead (her here); if he will not give (her to you), I shall come with more men, and take (her) myself; that will be even worse for him". Thus speaking he sent them forth, and he laid a stern command upon (them). The two of them went reluctantly along the shore of the barren sea, and came to the huts and the ships of the Myrmidons. They found him sitting by his hut and his black ship. Nor, when he saw the two of them, did Achilles rejoice. The two of them, terrified and respecting the king, stood, neither did they say anything at all to him, nor did they ask (any questions); but he knew (their purpose) in his mind and (so) he addressed (them): "Welcome, heralds, messengers of Zeus and of men also, come nearer. You are not at all worthy of blame to me, but Agamemnon (is), (he) who has sent you two forth for the sake of the girl Briseis. But come, heaven-sprung Patroclus, lead out the girl and give (her) to them to take; let these two themselves be witnesses before the blessed gods and before mortal men, and before him too, that heartless king, if ever need of me shall arise once more to ward off shameful destruction from the rest (of the army). For he rages with a destructive mind, and he does he know at all (how) to look forward and backward at the same time, so that his Achaeans might fight in safety by their ships". Thus he spoke, and Patroclus obeyed his dear companion and led the fair-cheeked Briseis from the hut, and he gave (her to the heralds) to take; and the two of them went back past the ships of the Achaeans. The woman went along with them with reluctance. But Achilles burst into tears, and at once withdrew apart from his companions, and sat down on the shore of the grey sea, looking out over the boundless deep; he prayed to his dear mother for a long time, stretching out his hands: "Mother, since you bore me, although I am doomed to a very short span of life, Olympian Zeus, thundering on high, should surely have conferred some honour upon me; now he has shown me not even a little honour: for the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon has dishonoured me; for he has taken, and holds, my prize, which he has seized himself ".

Ll. 357-412. Thetis hears his complaint. He urges her to persuade Zeus to help the Trojans.

Thus he spoke, shedding tears, and his revered mother heard him, (while) sitting beside her old father in the depths of the sea; quickly she rose up from the grey sea like a mist and sat down before him, as he wept, (and) she stroked him a little with her hand, and she spoke these words (to him) and called him by name: "My child, why do you weep? and what grief has come to your heart? Speak out, do not hide it in your mind, so that we both may know (what it is)". Then, swift-footed Achilles, groaning heavily, addressed her: "You know (it). Why indeed should I tell these things to you who knows all? We went to Thebes, the sacred city of Eetion, and we sacked it and brought back everything here. And the sons of the Achaeans divided things up properly amongst themselves, and they took out the fair-cheeked Chryseis for the son of Atreus. But Chryses, the priest of Apollo the far-shooter, came here to the swift ships of the bronze-clad Achaeans in order to free his daughter and bearing a ransom past counting, (and) holding in his hands the wreaths of Apollo the far-shooter upon his golden staff, and he entreated all the Achaeans, and especially the two sons of Atreus, the marshals of the army. Then, all the other Achaeans shouted their agreement both to show reverence to the priest and to accept the splendid ransom; but it was not pleasing to the mind of Agamemnon, the son of Atreus, but he sent (him) shamefully on his way, and laid a stern word upon (him). Then, the old man went back in anger; and Apollo heard him praying, since he was very dear to him, and he sent a deadly shaft against the Argives: indeed the people began to die in quick succession, and the arrows of the god ranged everywhere throughout the wide camp of the Achaeans. The seer in full knowledge declared to us the prophecies of the far-shooter. Straightway, I was the first to urge the appeasement of the god; but then anger seized the son of Atreus, and, standing up at once, he issued a threat, which indeed has (now) been accomplished. The flashing-eyed Achaeans are escorting her with a swift ship to Chryse, and are taking gifts for its lord; but just now heralds went from my hut leading away the daughter of Briseus, whom the sons of the Achaeans gave to me. But you, if you can, protect your noble son, (by) going to Olympus to entreat Zeus, if ever you have pleased at all the heart of Zeus either by word or also by deed. For often I have heard you in the palace of my father boasting, when you said that you alone among the immortals warded off shameful ruin from the son of Cronus, shrouded in black clouds (as he is), at the time when other Olympians were willing to bind him fast, even Hera and Poseidon and Pallas Athene. But you, goddess, having come, released him from his bonds, having quickly called the hundred-handed one to high Olympus, (he) whom the gods call Briareus, but all men Aegaeon; for he, in turn is mightier in strength than his own father (i.e. Poseidon); he took his seat beside the son of Cronos exulting in his glory; and the other gods shrank from him, nor did they bind (Zeus). Now having reminded him of these things, sit beside (him) and clasp his knees, (asking) if somehow he might be willing to bring help to the Trojans, and to hem in the Achaeans by the sterns (of their ships) and around the sea, while they are being slain, so that all may enjoy their king, (such as he is), and the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, may even recognise his folly in that he did not honour the best of the Achaeans".

Ll. 413-427. Thetis tells her son to abstain from fighting. She will go to see Zeus.

Then, Thetis, letting fall a tear, answered him (thus): "Ah me, child, why did I rear you, having borne you into such trouble? Would that you could just sit by the ships without a tear and unharmed, since your life-span (runs) for a very short time, and certainly not for a very long time; but as it is you have come to be, at the same time, both short-lived and wretched far beyond all (other) men; to such an evil fate did I bear you in our palace. In order to tell this story of yours to Zeus, (the one) who delights in thunder, I am going myself to snow-capped Olympus, (to see) if he will listen (to me). But you, now sitting by your swift ships, must rage against the Achaeans, and withdraw completely from the war; for Zeus went yesterday to Oceanus about a feast with the blameless Ethiopians, and all the gods followed along with (him); but after twelve days he will come back to Olympus, and then, let me tell you, I shall go to the palace of Zeus with its bronze threshold, and I shall beseech him and I think I shall persuade him".

Ll. 428-456. The ship, with Odysseus as captain, takes Chryseis home.

Having spoken thus, she went away and left him there, angry at heart because of the well-girded woman (i.e. Briseis) seized by force against his will; meanwhile, Odysseus was coming to Chryse, bringing the holy hecatomb. When they had arrived within the very deep harbour, they unfurled the sails and put (them) in the black ship, and they brought down the mast to the mast-crutch, letting (it) down quickly by (slackening) the forestays, and they rowed it forward with oars to the anchorage. They brought out the mooring stones, and tied the stern-cables fast to (the shore); and they themselves disembarked at the sea shore, and they brought forth the hecatomb for Apollo the far-shooter, and Chryseis disembarked from the sea-faring ship. Then, the wily Odysseus, leading her to the altar, placed her in the arms of her dear father, and said to him: "O Chryses, Agamemnon, lord of men, has sent me forth to bring your daughter to you, and to sacrifice a holy hecatomb to Phoebus on behalf of the Danaans so that we can appease the lord (god) who has now brought (such) grievous troubles upon the Argives". So saying, he placed (her) in his arms, and he joyfully received his dear child; they quickly set up the holy hecatomb to the god around the well-built altar, and then washed their hands and took up the coarsely-ground barley grains for sprinkling (on the victims). Chryses, lifting up his arms among them, prayed in a loud voice: "Hear me, (lord) of the silver bow, who has protected Chryse and holy Cilla and rules mightily over Tenedos; just as you surely heard me once before, when I prayed (to you), and you honoured me and punished mightily the army of the Achaeans, so now too bring to pass this further desire of mine, and ward off now this shameful pestilence from the Danaans".

Ll. 457-474. The sacrificial feast. Apollo is praised in music and song.

So he spoke in prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him. Then, when they had prayed and thrown down the coarse-grained barley to be sprinkled (between the victim's horns), they first drew back (the animals' heads) and cut (their throats) and flayed (their skins), and cut out the thighs and covered (them) up with fat, making (the layer of meat) a double one, and placed raw meat on them. The old man (i.e. Chryses) burned (them) on logs of wood, and poured a libation of sparkling wine on top of (them); and beside him the young men held in their hands the five-pronged forks. Then, when the thigh pieces were burned up and they had tasted the entrails, they cut up the rest (of the meat) into pieces and pierced (these) on spits all around, and roasted (them) carefully and drew off all (the meat). But when they had ceased from their work and prepared the meal, they fed (themselves), nor did their hearts feel any lack of a sufficient feast. But, when they had satisfied their desire for food and drink, the young men filled the mixing bowls full up to the brim with wine. Indeed, they served everyone, pouring drops into the cups as a libation. All day long the young men of the Achaeans appeased the god with song, singing a lovely hymn, celebrating in song he who smites from afar; and he, listening, was delighted in his heart.

Ll. 475-487. The Greek ship returns and the crew disembark.

But when the sun sank down and darkness arrived, then they lay down to rest by the stern-cables of the ship; when rosy-fingered dawn, the child of the morning, showed her (face), then at that time they put out to sea in search of the broad camp of the Achaeans, (and) Apollo, who smites from afar, sent them a favouring breeze; they set up the mast and spread out the white sails, and the wind swelled out the middle of the sail and the dark waves roared loudly around the stem of the ship's keel as it sped along. And she ran through the swell (of the waves) accomplishing her way. But, when they arrived at the broad camp of the Achaeans, they hauled the black ship on land, high up on the sand, and they set in line long props underneath (it), and they themselves dispersed among the huts and ships.

Ll. 488-492. Achilles nurses his anger.

But the heaven-sprung son of Peleus, swift-footed Achilles, was raging, as he sat beside his fast moving ships. Not ever did he go forth to the glory-winning assembly, nor ever to war, but his own heart wasted away, as he remained there, and longed for the war-cry and the battle.

Ll. 493-510. Thetis visits Zeus and asks that due honour be paid to Achilles.

But when the twelfth dawn came round from that (meeting), then it was that the ever living gods came to Olympus all together and Zeus was leading (them). And Thetis did not forget the request of her son but she arose from the swell of the sea, and early in the morning she went up to the great heaven and Olympus. There she found the wide-seeing son of Cronos sitting apart from the rest on the highest peak of many-ridged Olympus; and she sat down before him, and clasped his knees with her left(-hand), and, taking (him) by the chin with her right(-hand), she addressed the lord Zeus, the son of Cronos, in prayer: "Father Zeus, if ever I, among the immortals, have pleased you either by word or by deed, bring to pass this desire of mine; show honour to my son who is very short-lived beyond (all) others; yet now Agamemnon, lord of men, has dishonoured him; for, having taken his prize (i.e. Briseis) away (from him), he has seized it himself and is keeping it. But do you show him honour, all-wise Olympian Zeus; may you confer might upon the Trojans until such time as the Achaeans value my son and elevate him in honour."

Ll. 511-530. Zeus hesitates, fearing a row with Hera, but finally nods assent.

Thus she spoke; but Zeus the cloud-gatherer did not speak to her at all, but sat silent for a long time; as Thetis grasped his knees, so she held on clinging tightly, and she asked (him) again a second time: "Promise me without fail and nod in assent, or deny (me), since no fear rests upon you, that I may know full well how far I am the most dishonoured god among (them) all". Greatly worried, Zeus the cloud-gatherer addressed her: "Certainly (there will be) sorry work, in that you have compelled me to quarrel with Hera, whenever she provokes me with spiteful words. Even as it is, she is always abusing me among the immortal gods, and she says that I aid the Trojans in battle. But you must go away again now, lest Hera may perceive something; these things will be a care to me, until I shall accomplish (them). But come now, I shall nod my head, so that you may be confident; for this pledge from me (is) the greatest among the immortals; for no (pledge) of mine (shall be) taken back, or prove false, or (shall remain) unaccomplished, whenever I nod my head in assent (to it)". The son of Cronos spoke and nodded his dark brows in agreement; and the divine locks of the lord (god) flowed downwards from his immortal head; and he made great Olympus shake.

Ll. 531-567. Hera asks Zeus about the visit of Thetis. Zeus turns on her with threats of violence.

And so, having deliberated, the two parted; then she jumped down from bright Olympus into the deep sea, and Zeus went to his own house; all the gods rose together from their seats in the presence of their father; nor did any one (of them) dare to await his arrival, but they all rose up facing (him). And so he sat down there upon his throne; nor, having seen him, was Hera unaware that silver-footed Thetis, daughter of the old man of the sea (i.e. Nereus), had taken counsel together with him. Immediately, she spoke to Zeus, the son of Cronos, with bitter (words): "Which of the gods, you crafty one, has taken counsel with you? It is always pleasing to you, when you are far away from me, to consider and give judgment on secret (matters); nor have you ever brought yourself with any readiness to tell me whatever plan you have in mind." Then, the father of men and of gods answered her (thus): "Hera, do not expect to know all of my words; although you are my wife, they will be hard for you (to understand); but whatever (is) suitable (for you) to hear, then no one else either among the gods or men will know of it before (you do); but what I may wish to plan far away from the gods, don't you question (me) about, or inquire into, any of these things in any way". Then, the ox-eyed queenly Hera answered him: "Most terrible son of Cronos, what kind of word have you spoken? Certainly I have neither questioned (you) nor made enquiries of you before, but (of course) you may consider quite undisturbed whatever things you wish. Now, I fear dreadfully in my heart that silver-footed Thetis, the daughter of the old man of the sea, may have beguiled you; for early in the morning she sat beside you and clasped your knees; I think that you nodded your head to her in definite (agreement) that you would bring honour to Achilles, and destroy many of the Achaeans by their ships". Zeus, the cloud-gatherer, addressed her in answer: "My dear woman, you are always imagining (things), nor can I (ever) escape your notice; nevertheless, you will not be able to achieve anything, but you will be further from my heart; and that will be the worse for you. If this (matter) is as you say, it is likely to seem good to me. But sit still and listen, and obey my word, lest all the gods that there are in Olympus cannot defend you (against my) approach, when I lay my invincible hands upon you".

Ll. 568-594. Hephaestus urges peace. He recalls how Zeus once hurled him from Olympus.

Thus he spoke, and ox-eyed queenly Hera was afraid, and sat down in silence, curbing her own heart; throughout the house of Zeus, the heavenly gods were troubled; Hephaestus, the famous craftsman, began to address them, bringing some comfort to his dear mother, the white-armed Hera: "Certainly this will be a grievous business, and it will be still more unbearable if the two of you are to quarrel in this way on account of mortals, and to keep up this wrangling among the gods; nor will there be any benefit in the goodly feast, since worse things prevail. I advise my mother, even though she knows (it) well herself, to bring kindness to our father Zeus, so that our father may not upbraid her again, and disturb our feast. For if if the Olympian sender of lightning wishes to drive (us) from our seats, (he can certainly do so); for he is by far the strongest. But you must address him with gentle words; then the Olympian will at once be kind to us." Thus he spoke, and, springing up, he placed the two-handled cup in the hands of his mother, and he addressed her (thus): "Take courage, my mother, and, though distressed, endure, lest I may see you, though being dear (to me), being smitten before my eyes, and then I shall not be able to help you at all, despite my grief; for the Olympian is hard to match oneself against. For, previously on another occasion, when I had been eager to defend you, he seized (me) by the foot, and hurled me from the divine threshold; all day long I was carried (down), and, at the same time as the sun set, I fell in Lemnos, and there was little life still (left) in me; there Sintian men rescued me at once after my fall."

Ll. 595-611. Hephaestus makes the gods laugh. They feast till sundown and then retire to bed.

Thus he spoke, and the white-armed goddess Hera smiled, and, smiling, she received the cup in her hand from her son; then, he poured wine for all the other gods from left to right, drawing sweet nectar from the bowl. And unceasing laughter arose among the blessed gods, as they saw Hephaestus shuffling through the palace. So then, they feasted all day (long) till the setting of the sun, nor did their hearts feel any lack of a sufficient feast, nor yet of the very beautiful lyre which Apollo held, nor of the Muses, who were singing with their beautiful voices, as they answered (one another) in turn. But, when the shining light of the sun set, they went, each to his (own) home to lie down, where the famous (god) Hephaestus, lame in both legs, had made with knowing skill a house for each (one of them); and Zeus, the Olympian sender of lightning, went to his bed, where he always lay down whenever sweet sleep came over him; there, he went up and slept, and beside him (lay) Hera of the golden throne. 

Saturday 6 March 2010

GERUNDS AND GERUNDIVES

Introduction.

One of the more demanding aspects of Latin grammar is the usage of gerunds and gerundives. The purpose of this paper is to explain what they are, the difference between them, and how they are used in classical literature; once a list of exceptions has been compiled, the paper ends with a short but important list of rules for their use. This paper does not deal with how they are formed and declined. For this readers are referred to any standard Latin grammar book. For many of the examples and some of the analysis, the author is principally indebted to D.P.Simpson's "First Principles of Latin Prose", Longmans (1965). A gerund is a verbal noun, which in English is formed by adding "-ing" to the verb. Very similar to it in appearance in Latin, and possibly even the source of its derivation, is the gerundive, a verbal adjective, in the passive voice, but often equivalent in meaning to an active construction. Whereas the gerund is neuter in gender and is found only in singular forms, the gerundive is both singular and plural, and has the complete range of cases and genders. The gerund and gerundive can easily be confused because of their similarity in form, and this potential difficulty is perhaps increased by the manner in which they are used. Hence, even a relatively experienced Latin reader may experience some doubts from time to time, and may need to think hard before identifying which is which. This paper is dedicated to such a person.

The gerund in oblique cases.

In classical Latin the usage of the gerund is in fact relatively rare. It cannot be used in the nominative case, i.e. as the subject of a sentence, nor in the accusative as the direct object. When a verbal noun is sought in these circumstances, Latin uses the infinitive instead. Indeed, it is only found in the accusative case at all, when it follows the preposition "ad" to express purpose, i.e. as an alternative to final clauses ("ut" and the subjunctive). In relation to the cases, usages of the gerund are as follows: in the accusative: after "ad" with the meaning of purpose, as an alternative to final clauses, e.g. ad fodiendum, with a view to digging; in the genitive: as an objective genitive following abstract nouns and certain adjectives which are followed by the genitive, e.g. ars fodiendi, the art of digging, peritus fodiendi, skilled in digging; in the dative: following verbs which take the dative, e.g. fodiendo studet, he is keen on digging, operam dat legendo, he gives attention to reading; and in the ablative: as an instrumental ablative. e.g. summa cura fodiendo thesaurus invenit, by digging carefully he found the treasure. As the last example shows, an adverb or adverbial phrase (but never an adjective) may be added to a gerund to qualify its meaning. Deponent verbs also have gerunds which are formed as in the case of other verbs, and used in the same way, e.g. conando effecit, he managed (it) by trying.

Gerundive to express obligation, necessity or propriety.

In the nominative case, the gerundive carries an idea of obligation, necessity or propriety, passively expressed, and does not just state a simple fact. So "amandus" means "fit to be loved" or "worthy to be loved", denoting propriety, "needing to be loved", denoting necessity, or "deserving to be loved", denoting obligation. In the case of transitive verbs (i.e. verbs which take an object), it has its clearest use in the sense of obligation or necessity when it is the complement of the copulative verb, "sum". e.g. amanda est felis mea, my cat ought to be loved. In this context, it is usually to be found in the nominative case but where it is the subject of an indirect statement it will be in the accusative. e.g. credo spernendas esse ceteras feles, I believe that other cats ought to be despised. The use of the gerundive to express obligation, necessity or propriety is common in Latin, and is used as an alternative to the verbs "debeo", I owe or ought, and the impersonal verbs "oportet", it behoves and "decet", it is right. The most frequent use of the gerundive is with the forms of "esse" in the Second (or passive) Periphrastic Conjugation, e.g. "amandus sum", I am to be loved, I must be loved. 

The gerundive in oblique case usage.

As a gerundive passes down through the oblique cases, the force of obligation, necessity or obligation, so strong in the nominative, or accusative (when the subject of indirect statement), ceases to exist at all, or is only to be hinted at. Indeed, its meaning draws close to that of a present participle passive. Its main usages here are as follows: accusative: following "ad" meaning purpose, but where there is a direct object following, e.g. ad pacem faciendam, with a view to peace being made; genitive: the same usages as the gerund but where there is a direct object following, e.g. pacis faciendae causa, for the sake of peace being made; dative: after verbs taking the dative, and to show purpose, e.g. rationi reddendae student, they are keen on account being given, decemviros legibus scribendis creaverunt, the ten men were appointed in order  that the laws be written; ablative: instrumentally, but instead of the gerund when the verb had a direct object, and following prepositions which take that case, e.g. corpore exercendo validior fies, you will become stronger by your body being exercised, de vaccis emendis non intellegis, you do not understand about cows being bought. As these examples show, the gerundive is passive but it is equivalent in meaning to an expression of the phrases concerned in an active form.
Gerundive attraction.

In all the above examples where a gerundive is used, the process of gerundive attraction has occurred. This means that while a gerund could theoretically have been used, Latin either prefers or requires a gerundive, perhaps because it was thought to be a more concrete form of expression. Because of the possibility of confusing gerunds and gerundives in translation, it is important to understand what gerundive attraction means. In these constructions the gerundive is used in agreement with the noun, and the whole phrase, including the gerundive is placed in the case in which the gerund would have been. Where the verb is of the standard transitive type and governs a direct object in the accusative case, the gerundive is always used in classical Latin prose, and the dative of the gerund cannot be used to show purpose; and even where a choice is possible, Latin almost always prefers the gerundive construction. In practice, when translating Latin into English we almost always reverse the gerundive construction into the use of a gerund: for instance, "for the sake of peace being made" usually becomes "for the sake of making peace". Such a reversal from a passive to an active phrase in the course of translation is a further reason for confusing gerund and gerundive, especially, when both are possible grammatically.

Gerundives with intransitive verbs.

It is here that there is most the most uncertainty. Because intransitive verbs lack a passive voice, one would not expect a gerundive, which is after all a passive adjective, to be available to them. And, indeed, in later oblique case usage (i.e. genitive, dative, ablative) the gerundive is not generally found with intransitive verbs. However, when it comes to the nominative and, in the case of indirect statement, the accusative, a gerundive of intransitive verbs is also used to express obligation, necessity or propriety. Although the verbs concerned have no passive voice, a gerundive is formed, exceptionally, for this purpose, as in the case of the impersonal passive construction, on which it is based, e.g. currendum est, one must run. In such cases the gerundive is often accompanied by a dative of the agent or where the gerundive comes from a verb taking the dative, by "a/ab" and the ablative, e.g. currendum est mihi, I must run, tibi a me parendum est, I must obey you. In past years, standard Latin grammar books did not in fact classify this use of the gerundive as a gerundive at all, but saw it rather as the nominative of the gerund, with which it is identical. The currently prevailing view is suggested by the fact that the gerund does not appear elsewhere in the nominative, and because in no other case does the gerund have the remotest sense of obligation or necessity. On the other hand, in support of the old view, there is often no way in which gerundives used in this impersonal way can be expressed in a passive form. In practice, this controversy does not affect composition, and scarcely translation, of Latin, but it certainly demonstrates the ease with which gerunds and gerundives can be confused.


Exceptions and particular instances.

Perhaps the use of gerundives to express obligation or necessity in the case of intransitive verbs is one of these. Others are set out below.

1. The gerundive is used with some verbs of giving, eg. do, trado, and of seeing to, e.g. curo, to indicate that something is caused to be done. e.g. opus faciendum curavi, I saw to the work being done; libri legendi tibi dabuntur, books will be given to you to read.

2. Although the gerund in the accusative is only usually found after the preposition "ad", it is occasionally found also following "ob" and "inter".

3. When the genitive plural of a personal pronoun ends in "i", a gerundive is put into the genitive singular to agree with it, e.g. nostri adiuvandi causa (NOT nostri adiuvandorum causa), for the sake of helping us.

4. In the three cases, genitive, dative and ablative, a gerund may be used after all to govern as a direct object either a neuter pronoun or a neuter adjective because, if a gerundive were used, the thing concerned would otherwise no longer be recognised as neuter, e.g. hoc videndi causa (NOT huius videndi causa), for the sake of seeing this.

5. Where the repetition of genitive plurals would make use of the gerundive clumsy, the gerund is used instead. e.g. Romanos videndi causa (NOT Romanorum videndorum causa), for the sake of seeing the Romans.

6. The gerund is very occasionally found after prepositions taking the ablative,e.g. ab, de, ex, in. But neither gerund nor gerundive are ever to be found following "sine", without.

7. A gerund is also found instead of a gerundive to avoid complication where there are objects of different genders. e.g. facultas viros et feminas occidendi, the chance of killing men and women.

8. Several deponent verbs governing the ablative case have gerundives which may be used impersonally. e.g. gladiis est utendum, one must use swords, but because such verbs are sometimes regarded as transitive verbs, i.e. taking a direct object, they can sometimes be used as in the following ablative absolute, vi utenda, by force being used.


Short summary of the rules for gerunds and gerundives.

1. The gerund is a verbal neuter noun, is active, and is declined in the singular only. It is not found in the nominative, nor in the accusative as a direct object or the subject of indirect statement. Its use is therefore relatively rare.

2. The gerundive is a verbal adjective, passive in form, and is declined in all cases and genders, both in singular and plural.

3. In the nominative and accusative (when the subject of indirect statement), the gerundive expresses the ideas of obligation, necessity or propriety. This sense disappears, or becomes much less strong, in the other cases.

4. The gerund can be used where there is no direct object, but where there is a transitive verb with a direct object, the gerundive is almost always used.

5. The gerundive should be used to avoid a direct object following the dative of a gerund, or the accusative or ablative of the gerund after a preposition, and, of the two, only a gerundive can be used to show purpose.

6. Where a choice is possible, e.g. as a genitive following "causa" or as an instrumental ablative, in cases where there is a direct object involved, the gerundive is preferred in classical Latin.