Thursday, 24 March 2011

CICERO ON HIMSELF

I.  BIRTH AND EARLY LIFE.


Introduction.


This article offers to those interested in the life and works of Cicero a translation of twenty-four short passages which are included in "Cicero on Himself", a book in the Alpha Classics series, published by G. Bell and Sons Ltd. in 1950. The extracts are chosen and edited by N. Fullwood, B.A. This little book provides excellent insights into the thinking and character of the great orator and author, and the extracts which have been carefully chosen from the corpus of his voluminous works will be of considerable interest to any student of the momentous times in which Cicero lived and worked. Cicero was not without his flaws. His sense of self-importance, his egotism and his constant tendency to self-congratulation are not easy for the modern reader to appreciate nor were they to the taste of many of the Romans of his own day or to many literary commentators of subsequent generations, but he remains the greatest exponent of Latin prose of all time, probably the greatest Roman orator, the first and perhaps the most important interpreter of Greek philosophical thought in the Latin tongue and a letter writer whose massive output of letters provides a fascinating running commentary on the stirring historical events of the times in which he lived. There is also something heroic about his desperate attempts to shore up the republican constitution, in which he believed with all the fervour and sincerity which perhaps only a new arrival, i.e. a 'novus homo', could have summoned up. In this he was surely misguided. The republican constitution of a small city-state was not well suited to the circumstances of world empire, to which Rome was called by his time. Nevertheless his genuine patriotism was perhaps his most admirable personal quality. When, in his old age, Octavian, by then the Emperor Augustus, was asked by a young relative about Cicero, he gave what was surely a fitting epitaph on the man whom he had so grievously betrayed so many years before: "He was an eloquent man, my boy, an eloquent man, and a lover of his country." 


1.  From "De Legibus", II, 2-3.  This passage comes from Cicero's earliest philosophical work, "On Laws", written about 52 B.C. in the form of a dialogue between him, his friend Atticus and his brother, Quintus. In it Ciciero seeks to explain to Atticus the causes of his attachment to his birthplace, Arpinum.


Atticus:  Previously I was surprised - for I imagined nothing in this place except rocks and mountains, and I was led to do so both by your utterances and by your poems - but I was surprised, as I have said that you were delighted so very much by this spot; now, on the contrary, I am surprised, that you, when you are absent from Rome, are anywhere rather (than this).

Cicero:  Indeed, when I can (lit. it is permitted [to me] to) be absent for several days, especially at this time of the year, I do seek both the loveliness and the wholesomeness of this place, but this is rarely possible (lit. it is rarely permitted [to me]). But, undoubtedly, another reason delights me too, which does not affect you, Titus.

Atticus:  What, pray, is that reason of yours?

Cicero:  Because, if I speak the truth, it is the genuine native-place of myself and of this brother of mine; for here we were sprung from a very ancient stock, here (was) our altar, here (was) our race, here (are) the many vestiges of our ancestors. What more (need I say)? You see this villa as it is indeed now, splendidly built up by the zeal of my father, who, since he was of weak health, passed almost (all) his life here, (engaged) in literary (pursuits). But know that I was born in this very place, when my grandfather was (still) living and there was a small villa (here) according to the ancient custom, like the famous (villa) of Curius in the Sabine (land). Therefore (lit. on account of which thing), there is something inherent and lurking in my mind and senses, through which this place delights me more perhaps, since (lit. if indeed) even that very wise man (i.e. Ulysses) is reported to have renounced immortality in order to see Ithaca (once more).  

2.  From "Brutus", line 306.  In this extract, taken from the oratorical treatise, "Brutus", written about 46, and addressed to the man who two years later, was to lead the plot that assassinated Caesar, Cicero tells us of the main influences upon his development as an accomplished orator. 

But in my study of civil law, I gave much of my attention to Quintus Scaevola, son of Quintus, although he gave himself to no one for the purpose of teaching, yet by responding to those consulting (him), he instructed those desirous of hearing (him). And it was (the year) next to this year, Sulla and Pompeius (being) consuls. Then I learned completely about every kind of speaking during the tribunate of Publius Sulpicius, speaking in public daily; at the same time, when Philo, the head of the Academy, with the best of the Athenians, had fled from home during the Mithridatic war and had come to Rome, I gave myself over to him entirely, impelled by a certain wonderful enthusiasm for his philosophy, in which I remained even more attentive - although the variety and sublimity of his practices kept me in the highest delight - for this reason, because however the procedure of the law-courts seemed to have now been permanently overturned. In that year Sulpicius perished, and in the next (year) three orators from three generations, Quintus Catulus, Marcus Antonius and Gaius Julius, had been most cruelly killed. [In the same year also, I gave my attention in Rome to Molo the Rhodian, both an excellent pleader of lawsuits and teacher.]


3.  From "Brutus", lines 313-14.  In the passage below Cicero explains why he decided to remodel his method of speaking.


There was at this time, in respect of me, the greatest leanness and weakness of body, (and) a long and thin neck: this condition and this shape are thought to be not far away from a danger to life, if toil and (any) great exertion of the lungs occur. And this alarmed my friends (lit. those to whom I was dear) all the more, because I used to say everything without moderation, without variation, and with the utmost power of my voice and the straining of my whole body. And so, when both my friends and my doctors exhorted me to stop pleading causes, I considered that I should undergo any degree of danger (lit. it was right for any degree of danger to be undergone by me) rather than I should forsake (lit. it was right [for me] to forsake) the hoped for glories of speaking. But, when I considered that by the relaxation and the moderation of my voice, and my method of speaking having been altered, I could both avoid danger and speak more calmly, to change my custom of speaking was the very reason in my case of travelling to Asia. And so, although I had been engaged in lawsuits for two years and my name had already been celebrated in the Forum, I set out from Rome. 


II.  CICERO'S FAMILY.


1.  From "Ad Atticum", 5, 1.  In this letter, written in 51, Cicero seeks to explain to Atticus how badly the latter's sister, Pomponia, has been behaving to her husband, his brother Quintus, and he contrasts, perhaps not entirely convincingly, Pomponia's behaviour with the apparently impeccable conduct of Quintus.


As I came to (the estate at) Arpinum, when my brother had come over to me, in the first place we had a conversation, and it (was) a lengthy one, about you. After that I came on to the things which you and I had said about your sister at (my villa at) Tusculum. I have seen nothing more gentle, nothing more pacific, than my brother was towards your sister, as, even if there had been any unpleasantness on the score of expenditure, it did not appear. Thus (was) that day. The next day we set out from the Arpinum (estate). The (festival) day required that Quintus stayed in (the villa at) Arcae, I at Aquinum, but we lunched at Arcae. You know this farm. When we came thither, Quintus said in the kindest manner, "Pomponia, you invite the female (slaves), and I shall summon the men."  Nothing could (have been) more agreeable, as indeed it seemed to me, and this (was) both in words and in intention and expression. But she, in our hearing, answered, "I, myself, am a stranger here," (and) moreover this (arose) from the fact, I guess, that Statius had gone ahead to see to our luncheon. Then, Quintus said to me, "There, I suffer these things every day." You will say; "What, I pray, was there in that?" A great deal! and so it alarmed me, myself; she had responded so absurdly and so roughly, both in words and in expression. (Although) pained, I concealed my feelings. We all reclined except her, to whom, however, Quintus sent (food) from the table. She rejected (it). What more (need I say)? It seemed (to me) that nothing (was) milder than my brother, nothing harsher than your sister; and I leave out many things which were of greater annoyance to me at that time than (they were) to Quintus himself.

2.  "Ad Familiares", 14, 20.  In this letter, written in 47, Cicero gives abrupt instructions to Terentia, who had been his wife for thirty years. There is no sign of any affection in it, and it has been observed that ' a gentleman would write a more civil letter to his housekeeper'. In fact, Cicero, who had discovered that Terentia had been cheating him of money for years, divorced her immediately afterwards. 


I think that I shall arrive (home) at the Tusculum (villa) either on the Nones (i.e. the 7th) or on the next day. (See) that everything is ready there [for there will perhaps be several people with me, and we shall, as I think, be staying there for quite a long time]; if there is not a basin in the bathroom, (see) that there is, (and) likewise (that there are) the other things which are necessary for food and for health.

Farewell.                                              Kalends (i.e. the 1st) of October.  from (the region) of Venosa.            


3.  "Ad Familiares", 16, 4.  In this letter, written in 50, Cicero demonstrates his deep concern for the well-being of his secretary, the freedman Tiro, whom, because of sickness, he has had to leave behind in Patrae, in the Peloponnese, in order to recuperate, while he returns to Rome from his stint as governor of Cilicia. Cicero's relations with Tiro show Cicero at his most humane and considerate. Tiro, whom Cicero had manumitted from slavery in about 54, continued to serve Cicero faithfully thereafter, and Cicero's affection for him is very evident in this passage. Tiro is portrayed as the narrator of events in Robert Harris' masterly  historical novels, 'Imperium' (2006) and 'Lustrum' (2009), about the life of Cicero. A third volume is eagerly awaited by Sabidius.


I was affected by your letter in various ways, very much disturbed by the first page, (and) a little reassured by the second. So (lit. on account of which thing) now I do not doubt at all but that, until you are completely well, you should commit yourself neither to sailing nor to the road. I shall see you early enough, if I see (you) fully recovered. Concerning your doctor, you even write that he is well thought of, and I hear (it) thus too; but I do not fully approve of his treatment; for soup should not have been given to you, when you were sick in your stomach. But, however, I have written carefully both to him and to Lyso. But I have written at length (lit. many things) to Curius, that very agreeable man and (a man) of the greatest kindness and of the greatest consideration, among other things (asking him) to take you into his (house), if it were to seem (good) to you; for I fear lest our Lyso may be too negligent, firstly because all Greeks (are), then because, when he had received a letter from me, he sent nothing back to me. But you praise him; so you shall decide what it is right to do. I beg you, my (dear) Tiro, that you do not spare any expense on this matter, which thing may be necessary for your health. I have written to Curius (to tell him) to give (you) what (money) you may have mentioned. I think it is necessary (for you) to give something to the doctor himself, in order that he may be more attentive. Your services towards me are incalculable: domestic, forensic, concerning the city, concerning my province, in my private affairs, in public (affairs), in my reading, in letter(-writing); you will surpass (them) all, if as I trust, you see yourself strong (again). I think that, if (things) turn out well, you will travel home most splendidly with my quaestor Mescinius. He is not disagreeable, and he is fond of you, as it seemed to me. And when you have very diligently taken care of yourself, then my (dear) Tiro, take care over the journey. I wish you to hurry in no respect now; I am concerned about nothing except that you are safe. So remember, my (dear) Tiro, that there is no one who loves me but that the same person loves you, and while it matters very greatly to you and to me that you are well, at the same time it is of concern to many (others). Hitherto, while you have wished always to be at my side (lit. to fail me in no place), you have never been able to take care of yourself; now nothing hinders you; put everything (else) aside, consider your own body. In proportion as you show care for your own health, so I shall consider that I am esteemed by you.

III.  CICERO  THE ADVOCATE.

1.  From "Pro Roscio Amerino", 1-3.  Cicero made his reputation at the Roman bar as an advocating the accused in criminal trials. The passage below comes from the recorded speech which he delivered in  his first case in 80, when he successfully defended Sextus Roscius of Ameria from the charge of parricide. In this extract he explains why his very inexperience is advantageous to his client.


I believe that you, (O) judges, are marvelling why it is that, when so many of the best orators and most noble men are sitting down, I rather than any other (lit. especially) should arise, the sort of person who am, neither through age nor through ability nor through influence, suitable to be compared with those who are sitting. All these men whom you see present at this trial think that (a man) ought to be defended (against) injury occasioned by an unprecedented wickedness, (but) they do not dare to defend (him) themselves on account of the hazard of the times. So, it happens that they are present on account of the fact that they are following their duty, but they are silent for the reason that they are avoiding danger. What then (lit. therefore)? (Am) I the boldest of these men? Not at all. Or (am I) so much more attentive to my duties than (all) the rest? I am not so covetous even of that praise that I wish it to be snatched away from others. So what thing has impelled me more than other men to undertake the cause of Sextus Roscius? Because, if any one of these men who you see present, amongst whom there is the highest dignity and distinction, had spoken, if he had uttered a (single) word about public affairs, a thing which is necessary to be done in this case, he would be thought to have said  much more than he (really) had said. But if I should say all the things which should (lit. are needing to) be freely said, yet my speech can by no means go forth in like manner and become known among the people. Then, because a speech of the others cannot be obscure on account of their nobility and distinction, nor (can) it be excused as spoken rashly on account of their age and prudence. (But) if I should say anything too freely, it can either be covered up on account of the fact that I have not yet entered into public affairs, or pardoned due to my youth.

2.  From "In Verrem", Actio Prima, 12-14.  Cicero abandoned his normal policy of acting only as a defence barrister in order to prosecute Gaius Verres, the Governor of Sicily from 73 to 71. Although the Verrine Orations contain the speeches of the five speeches which Cicero would have delivered in the main part of the expected trial (a translation of the main passages from the Fifth Verrine Oration can be found on Sabidius' blog), the 'Actio Secunda', these speeches were in fact never delivered, because by that stage Verres had gone into exile. This was because of the devastating attack upon him made by Cicero in his speech at the introductory 'Actio Prima'. In the extract below which is taken from that speech, Cicero sums up the overwhelming case which he has prepared against Verres, backed up by a long line of eager witnesses.


But now he (i.e. Verres) has established very many and very great monuments and proofs of all his crimes in the province of Sicily, which he for three years so harassed and ruined that it can by no means be restored to its former condition, but appears scarcely able to be recovered to any extent in the future (lit. at any time). With this man (as) praetor, the Sicilians enjoyed (lit. possessed) neither their own laws nor our Senate's decrees, nor man's universal rights; everyone in Sicily has only so much as has either escaped the notice (lit. eluded the inadvertence) or survived the satiety of that most avaricious and most licentious man. For three years, no matter was determined, except by that man's nod, no property of any man was so sacred to his father or grandfather such that it could not be taken away from him by that man's command. Countless sums of money were exacted from the property of farmers by a new and nefarious practice, the most faithful allies were considered in the ranks (lit. number) of enemies, Roman citizens were tortured and put to death in the manner of slaves, the most criminal men were absolved by his decision on account of their money, the most honourable and the most upright men, were condemned and banished in their absence, the case of the matter having been brought unheard, the most fortified harbours and the greatest and most secure cities were laid open to pirates and robbers, the sailors and soldiers of the Sicilians, our own allies and friends, were killed by hunger, the best and most serviceable fleets were lost and destroyed with the great disgrace of the Roman people. That same praetor plundered and stripped the most ancient monuments, some (the work) of very wealthy kings, which they wished to be ornaments for their cities, some, too, (the work) of our generals, which, (as) victors, they had given or restored to the states of the Sicilians.

3.  From "Pro Cluentio", 138-140.  In 66 Cicero, now praetor, defended Aulus Cluentius Habitus against the charge of having poisoned his step-father. The prosecutor has sought to use what Cicero had said at a previous trial against him. In the extract below from a speech, which was not only the longest of his recorded forensic orations but also considered by many, including the Younger Pliny, to be his finest, Cicero seeks both to justify his apparent inconsistency and at the same time sets out a general statement as to an advocate's responsibilities.


Attius quoted out of some (lit. I know not what) speech, which he said was mine, a certain exhortation to the judges in the direction of honest judging and a mention of judicial decisions in other cases which (it was said) had not been approved of, and of that trial before Junianus himself; just as if I had not said at the beginning of this (speech for the) defence that that verdict had been unpopular, or (as if at a time) when I was discoursing about the corruption of the jury-courts, I could at that time have passed over that one which was so notorious. But, if I said anything of that kind, I neither mentioned (it as) known, nor did I state (it) in evidence, and that speech was (a reflection) of the occasion rather than of my judgement and intention. For since I was acting as accuser and had proposed to myself at the outset to stir up the feelings both of the Roman people and of the judges, and since I was bringing forward all the causes for offence (given) by the courts, not from my own opinion but from the reports of men (at the time), I could not pass over that matter which had been so universally discussed. But, if anyone thinks that he has my personal opinions recorded in my speeches, which I have delivered in the courts of justice, he is grossly mistaken. For all these (speeches) are (reflections) of the causes and of the occasions, not of the men themselves or their advocates. For, if the causes themselves could speak for themselves, no one would employ an orator. As it is (lit. now), we are employed to say not those things which are decided on our own authority, but which are suggested from the circumstances and the cause itself.

4.  From "Pro Archia", 12-13.  The passage below comes from a speech which Cicero made in 62 on behalf of Archias, a Greek poet and teacher, who had been accused of falsely claiming to be a Roman citizen.  Long digressions are not uncommon in Cicero's speeches, particularly when he suspected his client's case was weak, but Roman juries were generally tolerant of these, and Cicero was an expert at winning their sympathy. Much of this speech was taken up with the value of literature and what it meant to him. In this case, Archias' citizenship was confirmed.

You enquire from us, Grattus, why we are so greatly delighted by this man. (It is) because he supplies us (with the means) whereby both our mind is refreshed from the din of the law-courts and our ears, wearied by angry disputes, are at rest. Or do you think that either (those things) which we say daily on so great a variety of matters could be available to us, unless we were to cultivate our minds in learning, or that our minds could endure so great a strain, unless we were to relax them by that same learning? Let it shame others if any (of them) have so buried themselves in literary studies that they can either produce nothing out of them for the common benefit, or bring forward (nothing) into the view (of men) and the light; but why should it shame me, who has lived in such a way for so many years, judges, that neither my own (love of ) leisure has ever drawn me away, nor pleasure has (ever) distracted (me), nor sleep has (ever) detained (me), from the hour of need or interests of anyone? Therefore (lit. on account of which thing), who, pray, can reproach me, or who can justly be angry with me, if I take up myself so much (time) for these studies being cultivated, as the time spent by others on their affairs being attended to, as on the festival days of games being celebrated, as on other pleasures and even for the repose of mind and body, as others allot to early banquets, as finally to the rolling of dice, as to playing ball?

IV.  CICERO ENTERS POLITICS.


1.  From "Pro Plancio", 64-66.  In 54 he defended his friend Gnaeus Plancius against a charge of bribery while standing for the office of aedile. The extract below is interesting not only because it tells how Cicero was deflated on his return from holding the post of quaestor at Lilybaeum in the west of Sicily in 75, but also because of the lesson he learned from this experience, that is, that what mattered, if he wanted to make progress politically, was that he was constantly seen at work in the Forum.


I do not fear, judges, lest I appear to claim anything for myself, if I speak of my own quaestorship. For although that was successful, yet I consider that I have since been (employed) in the highest offices of state, such that it is not necessary for me to claim much glory by this means from the praise of my quaestorship. But still I do not fear that anyone will venture to say that anybody's quaestorship in Sicily has been either more renowned or more popular. Indeed (lit. By Hercules), I can say this truly: at this time I was thinking thus, that men at Rome were talking of nothing else, except about my quaestorship. At (a time of) the greatest dearth, I had sent a very great amount of corn (to Rome); I had seemed affable to the traders, just to the merchants, liberal to the tax-farmers, moderate to the allies, and in all respects most diligent in every (part of) my duty; indeed (some) unprecedented honours had been contrived for me by the Sicilians. Therefore I departed with this expectation, that I thought that the Roman people would, of its own accord, offer me every (honour). But, when by chance during these days, I (in) departing from my province with the object of a road journey being made, had come, fortuitously, to Puteoli (at a time) when a great number of people, and the most fashionable, were in that place, I almost fell down, judges, when someone enquired of me on what day I had left Rome, and whether I knew what was (happening there). When I had replied to him that I was departing from my province, he said "Oh, yes, to be sure (lit. by Hercules), from Africa, as I suppose." At this I, now being scornfully irritated, said: "Nay rather, from Sicily." Then someone (else), like (a man) who knew everything, said: "What? Do you not know that this man (i.e. Cicero) has been quaestor at Syracuse?" What more (can I say)? I stopped being irritated and made myself one of those who had come for the waters.

[The lesson was not lost on Cicero. He goes on to tell us how he set out to win the attention of people at Rome.]

But I do not know, judges, whether this circumstance had not benefited me more than if everyone had then congratulated me. For after I had realised that the ears of the Roman people were sluggish but that their eyes were keen and sharp, I stopped thinking what men would be hearing about me; I acted so that afterwards they saw me in their presence every day, I lived in the (public) eye, I haunted the forum; neither my door-keeper, nor sleep, frightened away anyone from meeting with me.

2.  From "De Lege Agraria", 2, 3.  At the very end of the year 64 the tribune Publius Servilius Rullus, almost certainly acting on behalf of Crassus, introduced an attempted land distribution law, which was abandoned after it was attacked by Cicero who had become consul at the beginning of 63. In the second of three speeches which he made against this proposal, Cicero expatiates on the significance of his election as a 'novus homo'. His apparent belief that he had won the consulship through merit alone was a self-deception. His success in the consular elections for 63 was the result of support from the nobility and its desire to exclude Catiline from election.  

After a very long interval beyond the memory of our times, you have, almost for the first time, made me, a new man, consul, and you have torn open the rank which the nobility were holding fortified by garrisons and fenced around by every method, with myself in the lead, and you wish to open (it) in the future to virtue. Nor (have you) only (made) me consul, which is in its very self a most splendid thing, but you have made (me) so in a manner in which few nobles in this state have been made consuls, (and) not one (of them) a new (man) before me. For, if you wish to recollect concerning new men, you will find that those who were made consuls without repulse, have been elected after protracted toil and at some critical moment, when they had stood (for it) (lit. sought [it]) for many years after they had been praetors, and a good deal later than it would have been permitted (to them) through their age and through the laws; but that (those) who stood (for it) in their own year, were not elected without a repulse; that I am the (only) one out of all the new men about whom we can  remember, who has stood for the consulship when it was first lawful (to do so) (who) has been elected consul when he first stood, so that your honour appears to have been sued for at the appropriate time in my career, not filched at the moment of someone's else's candidature, nor desperately requested by long prayers, but that it has been obtained by merit.

3.  From "Pro Caelio", 12-13.  In 56, Cicero, together with Crassus, defended Marcus Caelius Rufus against multiple murder charges. Caelius had been a former associate of the patrician revolutionary, Catiline, whose complex and contradictory character was highlighted by Cicero in this remarkable extract below.

For that man (i.e. Catiline) had, as I think you will remember, very many characteristics, not fully brought out, but sketched in outline, of the most eminent virtues. There were about him many inducements to (the gratification of) lust; there were also certain incentives to industry and toil. The vices of lust burned within him; (but) the study of military matters was also strong. Nor do I think there has ever existed any prodigy of such a kind on the earth, so blown together out of conflicting and differing aptitudes and desires, and (those) by nature fighting between themselves. Who (was) more agreeable at any one time to the more renowned men, who more intimate with the baser? What citizen (was there) of better parts on some occasions, who a fouler enemy to this state (at others)? Who (was) more debased in his pleasures, who more enduring in (undergoing) labours? Who (was) more greedy in his rapaciousness, who more lavish in his liberality? Indeed, judges, there were those admirable (qualities) in that man, (such as) to embrace many men in his friendship, to keep (them) by indulging (their wishes), to share with everyone what he had, to serve all his (friends) in their crises with money, with his influence, with the toil of his person, even with crime and audacity, if there were a need, to restrain his own nature and to guide (it) to (suit) the occasion, and to turn and twist (it) hither and thither, to live strictly with the morose, merrily with the cheerful, seriously with the old, affably with the young, audaciously with the criminal, (and) wantonly with the profligate.

3.  From "Pro Sestio", 96-98.  In 56 Cicero also defended Publius Sestius on a charge of riot ('vis') during his tribunate in 57, when he had been active in promoting Cicero's recall from exile. The extract below which is taken from his speech at this trial, after which Sestius was acquitted, provides a description of the difference between 'optimates' and 'populares', those elusive political labels which have continued to baffle historians. It is, however, clear that the terms 'optimates or 'boni' have no moral connotations; the sole qualification for these terms was ownership of property.

There have been always been in this state two kinds of men who have been eager to engage in public affairs and to conduct themselves excellently in it; of these (two) kinds, one wish to be considered, and to be, popular men (populares), and the other the party of the best men (optimates). (Those) who wished that whatever things they did and whatever they said should be agreeable to the multitude (were) the populares, but (those) who conducted themselves in such a way that their counsels were acceptable to all the best men were considered optimates. So who (are) all those best men? In number, if you ask, (they are) countless, nor could we stand otherwise; they are the chief men of the public counsel, they are (those) who follow their party, they are men of the highest rank, to whom the Senate-house is open, they are citizens of the municipalities, they are Romans who live in the countryside, they are those engaging in business, even (some) freedmen are optimates. As I have said the number of this party is scattered widely and in different directions; but the entire body, so that error can be removed, can be described and defined in a few words. All men are optimates who are neither criminals nor wicked by nature nor madmen nor hampered by domestic difficulties. So let it be established that those men, what you have called a 'race', are (those) who are both honest and sane and well (placed) concerning their domestic circumstances. (Those) who have regard for their wishes, their interests, (and) their opinions in the republic being governed (are) guardians of the optimates, and are themselves accounted optimates, most wise and most illustrious citizens and the chief men of the state. So what is the thing proposed to these men by the directors of the republic which they are obliged to look towards and whither they (should) direct heir course? That which is most excellent and most desirable to all sane and good and well-blessed (men), leisure (conjoined) with honour. (Those) who desire this (are) all optimates, (those) who effect (this) are considered the top men and the preservers of the state; for it is becoming neither for men to be so carried away by the status arising from public affairs being managed that they do not provide for their leisure, nor (for them) to embrace any (kind of) leisure which is inconsistent with their honour.

6.  THE TRIUMVIRS.


1.  From "Pro Lege Manilia", 29-31. In his speech in 66 in which Cicero supported the "Lex Manilia", following which the command of all Roman forces in the war against Mithridates, King of Pontus, was transferred to Pompey, Cicero lauds Pompey's achievements in previous wars.


But now what speech can be found equal to the merit of Cnaeus Pompeius? What can anyone bring forward which is either worthy of him or new to you and unfamiliar to any (single) person? For these are not the only qualities of a general which are esteemed by the common people, toil in business, courage amid dangers, industry in doing, speed in completing, wisdom in foreseeing, (qualities) which exist to as great an extent in this one man as there have been in all the other generals whom we have either seen or heard of. My witness is Italy, which that illustrious conqueror, Lucius Sulla, himself, admitted was liberated by this man's valour and assistance; my witness (is) Sicily, which, having been beset by many dangers on all sides, he set free, not by the terror of warfare but by the speed of his decision-making; my witness (is) Africa, which having been overwhelmed by the great forces of the enemy, overflowed with the blood of these very men; my witness (is) Gaul, through which a road into Spain was opened up by our legions by the destruction of Gauls; my witness (is) Spain, which has time and again seen very many enemies defeated and overthrown by this man; my witness again and more often (is) Italy, which when it was hard pressed by the disgraceful and perilous servile war sought help from that man, (although) being absent, which war was reduced and lessened by the expectation of him and ended and buried by his arrival. But now already every coast and every country, race, nation, and finally every sea, both open (lit. universal) ones and every bay and harbour in each individual shore-line, are my witnesses.

2.  From "Ad Atticum", 3, 10.  In this letter written at Thessalonica in 58 during his exile, we see Cicero at his lowest ebb, overwhelmed with self-pity and despair.


As to the fact that you reproach me so often and so vigorously and that you say that I am feeble spirited, is there, I (would) ask, any evil so great as not to have a part (lit. be) in my disaster? Has any man ever fallen from so fine a position, amid so good a cause, with such great endowments of talent, wisdom (and) influence, (and) with such great support from all honest men? Can I forget who I was or not feel who I am, (and) what rank, what fame, what children, what fortunes, what a brother I am deprived of? In order to direct your attention to another kind of misfortune, I, although I care for (him) more than myself and have always done so, went out of my way not to see him, so as not either to see his grief and wretchedness, or to offer myself, whom he had left in a most flourishing state, to him (as) a ruined and broken man. I pass over other intolerable matters; for indeed I am prevented by tears (from speaking).

3.  From "De Provinciis Consularibus", 41-42.  In this speech in 59 during a senatorial debate on the allocation of consular provinces, Cicero explains why he has refused Caesar's suggestion that he should join what came to called the First Triumvirate.

He (as) consul ( i.e. Caesar) did those things those things for which he wished me to be a partner;  if I was not in favour of these things, yet it behoved (me) to be pleased at his judgment of me. He (also) asked me to accept the office of quinquevir; he wished me to be among the three ex-consuls most intimately connected with him; he offered me (any) staff appointment which I wanted, with (as much) honour as I might wish. I rejected all these (offers) not with an ungrateful mind but with some firmness of opinion. How wisely (I rejected these), I do not (now) dispute; for I shall not convince (lit. recommend [myself] to) many; but (I) certainly (acted) firmly and courageously, inasmuch as, although I could have fortified myself by the most reliable means against the wickedness of my personal enemies and repelled the attacks of radicals by the protection of radicals, (yet) despite (all this), I preferred to take on fortune, to meet (any) violence and (any) injury (rather) than to dissent from your most august policies or to deviate from my principles. I did not think that those distinctions with which he was honouring me were becoming to me and were consistent with those things which I had performed (as consul); but I felt that he regarded me with the same friendly disposition as the respect with which (he looked upon) that chief of citizens, his own son-in-law (i.e. Pompey).

Therefore it is still more appropriate for it to be feared by me that my pride amidst his generosity (towards me) will be censured, (rather) than his injury (of me) in the midst of our friendship.

VII.  CICERO IN CILICIA.

1.  From "Ad Atticum", 6, 2, 4.  The extract below is taken from a letter which Cicero wrote to Atticus in 50, during his governorship in Cilicia, which he had taken up only with extreme reluctance. Never one to hide his lights under a bushel, Cicero boasts about he has been improving the lives of the provincials under his rule.

I see that you are pleased by my moderation and forbearance. Moreover, you would value it (even) more if you were here. And at this assize which I have been holding at Laodicea from the Ides (i.e. the 13th) of February to the Kalends (i.e. the 1st) of May for all the districts except Cilicia (proper), I have performed some wonderful things.  Thus many communities have been freed from all debt, many (others) considerably relieved (of it), (and) all have come back to life, enjoying their own laws and courts. I have given the opportunity for them to be freed or relieved from debt in these two ways, firstly because absolutely no expense has been incurred under my period of power, nothing I say, not even a farthing. (Then) another (thing) happened. There were among the communities of the Greeks themselves, an astonishing (number of) embezzlements which their own magistrates had carried out. I myself enquired of those who had performed the magistracy in the last ten years. They admitted (it) openly. And so without any shame, (taking the burden of repayment) upon their own shoulders, they restored the money into the public (coffers). The people, moreover, without a murmur (lit. with no groan), have returned to the tax-gatherers, to whom they had paid nothing in this very lustrum, the arrears from the previous lustrum as well. And so I am to the tax-gatherers (the apple) in their eyes. "Grateful men," you (will) say. I have experienced (their gratitude). Now, the rest of my delivery of justice (is) not incompetent, and (is) lenient (combined) with remarkable informality; moreover, access to me (is) by no means the (usual) provincial (fashion); nothing (is done) through my chamberlain; before dawn I am up and about my residence, as when (I was) once a candidate. These things are welcome and (thought to be) a great thing, and (are) not yet irksome to me on account of that old training of mine.

VIII.  THE CIVIL WAR.

1.  From "Ad Atticum", 9, 18.  In this interesting and revealing letter, written in 49, shortly after the beginning of the Civil War, Cicero tells Atticus how he rejects Caesar's attempts to enlist his help.


(I acted) in accordance with your advice in both (respects); for my language was such that he thought well of me rather than gave (me) thanks, and I remained (firm) in this (resolve), that (I should) not (go) to the City. These things deceived (me), that I had thought (him) accommodating, (but) I have never seen anyone less (so). He said that he was being censured by my decision, (and) that, if I did not come, the rest (of the senators) would be slower (to do so).  I (replied) that their position was different. When many things (had been said), (he said) "So come and make proposals for peace." "At my discretion?" I answered. "(Who) am I to dictate to you?" he said. "So," I replied, "I shall argue that it is not pleasing to the Senate that you are going to the Spanish (provinces) or transporting your armies to Greece, and I shall complain of many things with regard to Gnaeus (i.e. Pompey)." He then (responded), "But I am not willing for these things to be said." "So I imagined," I said; "But I do not wish to be present for this reason, because either it is necessary for it to be said thus by me, and (there are) many things about which I could not be silent if I were there, or it is not right for me to go."  The upshot was that he, as if looking for a conclusion (to the conversation), (asked me) "to think it over." It was not right for this to be refused (by me). So we parted. I think, therefore, that he is not pleased with (lit. does not love) me. But I was pleased with (lit. was loving) myself, (something) which has not happened (lit. has not come by practice) to me for a long time now.

IX.  LIFE UNDER THE DICTATORSHIP OF CAESAR.


1.  From "Ad Familiares", 7, 30.  In this letter which Cicero wrote in January 44 to his friend Manius Curius, the same man who had looked after the sick Tiro in 50, Caesar recounts the episode in which Caesar had Gaius Caninius Rebilus elected as suffect consul on the last day of 45. Cicero sees this as a calculated insult to the Roman aristocracy.


But (no), I am now neither urging nor asking you to return home; indeed I myself want to fly away from here and reach somewhere, 'where I shall hear of neither the names nor the doings of the descendants of Pelops (i.e. wicked men)'. It is extraordinary how disgracefully I seem to myself to be behaving, in taking part in these affairs. Verily you seem long before to have foreseen what was impending, at the time when you escaped from here. Although these things are painful, even in the hearing (of them), yet it is more tolerable to hear of (them) than to see (them). At least you were not there at the Field (of Mars), when the assembly for (the election of) quaestors having been begun at the second hour (i.e. 8 a.m.), the official chair of Quintus Maximus, whom they (i.e. the Caesarians) had declared to be consul, was set in place; his death having been announced, the chair was removed. But he (i.e. Caesar), although he had (only) performed the auspices for the tribal assembly, held a centuriate (assembly), (and) at the seventh hour (i.e. 1 p.m.) he announced the election of a consul, who would be (in office) until the Kalends (i.e. the 1st) of January, which was going to be
in the morning on the next day. Thus, be aware that no one lunched with Caninius (as) consul. However, nothing bad was done with him (as) consul; for the vigilance was wonderful of (that man) who will not have seen sleep during the whole of his consulship. These things may seem ridiculous to you; for you are not here. If you were to see these things, you could not hold back your tears. What if I were to write (down all) the other things?  For there are countless (instances) of the same kind; indeed, I could not have endured these things, if I had not taken refuge in (lit. betaken myself to) the haven of philosophy, and if I had not had my (dear) Atticus (as) companion in my studies.

2.  From "Philippicae Orationes in M. Antonium", II, 116.  Cicero composed fourteen Philippic Orations attacking Antony in 44-43. They were called 'Philippic' in imitation of the attacks made by the Athenian orator Demosthenes on Philip of Macedon in the Fourth Century B.C. He wrote and circulated the second of these in October 44, and it was an especially vitriolic attack. In the passage below we have Cicero's verdict on the character, achievements and malignant legacy, as he saw it, of Julius Caesar, who had been assassinated in the previous March.


But if you (i.e. Antony) do not fear brave men and illustrious citizens, because they are prevented by arms from (getting to) your person, your men, believe me, will not endure you for (very) much longer. Moreover, what a life it is to be fearing (danger) from one's own men day and night! Unless indeed either you have men bound (to you) by greater kindnesses than he (i.e. Caesar) had in respect of certain men out of those by whom he was slain, or you are fit to be compared with him in any respect. There was in that man genius, method, memory, literary ability, thoroughness, intellect, diligence; he had performed exploits in war, although a disaster for the republic, and yet (they were) great; having aimed at supreme rule for many years, he had, with great labour and amid great dangers, accomplished what he had planned; he had captivated the ignorant multitude with gifts, monuments, food largesses and banquets; he had bound his own supporters closely (to him) by rewards, and his adversaries by the appearance of clemency. What more (can I say)? Partly through fear, partly through forbearance, he had already brought a free city-state into the habit of servitude.

X.  ANTONY AND OCTAVIAN.


1.  From "Philippicae Orationes in M.Antonium", II, 118.  At the end of the same speech Cicero indicates that he is prepared to die on behalf of the cause of freedom and calls upon Antony to reconcile himself with the republic.


Have regard, I beg (you), Marcus Antonius, consider, at some time or other, the republic, (those) from whom you are descended, not (those) with whom you are living: (be reconciled) with myself (or not) as you wish: (but) be reconciled (lit. return into friendship) with the republic. But you will decide about yourself; as for me, I shall declare (what I) myself (shall do). (As) a young man, I defended the republic, I shall not desert (it as) an old man: I scorned the swords of Catiline, I shall not greatly fear yours. On the contrary, I shall even offer my body gladly, if the freedom of the state can be secured at once by my death, so that the indignation of the Roman people may bring forth what it has been struggling to produce for a long time now! For indeed, if almost twenty years ago in this very temple I denied that a premature death could happen to a man of consular rank, how much more truly may I now deny (it) in the case of an old man? But to me, conscript fathers, death is now even to be desired , (my life and career) having been fulfilled by those honours which I have obtained and those (deeds) which I have performed. I only wish for these two things, one, that, dying, I shall leave the Roman people free - nothing greater than this can be granted to me by the immortal gods - and second, that it may befall everyone in such a way that each man may be rewarded in accordance with (his conduct towards) the republic.

2.  From "Philippicae Orationes in M. Antonium", V, 50-51.  In the Fifth Philippic, composed in early 43, Cicero seeks to reassure an uncertain Senate about the character and intentions of the young Caesar Octavianus. That Cicero had some doubts about the truth of this eulogy is indicated in the final sentence of the extract below. He was right; Octavian was to betray Cicero and made no attempt to save him from a vengeful Antony.

"But he is an enemy to some most illustrious and distinguished citizens." Caesar (i.e. Octavian) has sacrificed
all those personal vendettas on account of the republic; he has established her (as) his judge, her (as) the mistress of his counsels and actions. For he has entered public life (lit. he has come to the republic) to strengthen her, not to overturn (her). I have learned and am aware of all the feelings of the young man. There is nothing dearer to him than the republic, nothing of more weight than your authority, nothing more desired (by him) than the good opinion of patriotic men, nothing sweeter than true glory.

Therefore (lit. on account of which thing), you not only ought not to fear anything from him, but to expect greater and better things (still), nor to fear in that man who set out for the purpose of Decimus Brutus being freed from siege that the memory of a domestic grief will remain, so that it can be of more (influence) with him than the safety of the state. I venture even to give my word (lit. pledge my faith), conscript fathers, to you and to the Roman people and to the republic; this, indeed, when no force compelled me, I should not venture to do, and I should greatly fear a dangerous opinion of my rashness in such a very important matter. (But) I promise, I undertake, I guarantee, conscript fathers, that Gaius Caesar will always be such a citizen as he is today, and as we ought especially to wish and desire him to be.

3.  From "Ad Familiares", 10, 28.  The passage below is an extract from Cicero's letter to Gaius Trebonius, the Governor of West Asia Minor, written on 2 February 43, the day the Senate declared war on Antony. Cicero is still full of hope for the future, but he was to be cruelly deceived. Trebonius never received this letter. Dolabella, once Cicero's son-in-law, whom Antony had appointed to oust Cassius from the governorship of Syria, had him murdered at Smyrna. Cicero himself was murdered in December 43 in the proscriptions which followed the formation of the Second Triumvirate between Antony, Octavian and Lepidus in November 43.

When the tribunes of the people had called the Senate thirteen days before the Kalends of January (i.e. the 20th December) and brought forward a motion concerning other business, I reviewed the whole public situation, and spoke with great vehemence, and more by force of energy than of intellect I recalled the Senate, at that time inert and weary, to its former valour and habit. (The events of) this day and and my efforts and arguments first brought to the Roman people the hope of their freedom being recovered; nor indeed afterwards have I neglected any time not only for planning but also for acting on behalf of the republic. If I did not consider that affairs in the City and everything that has been done (lit. all the actions) were being reported to you, I myself should write about this at full length, although I have been hindered by a very great amount of business. But you will be aware of these things from other people; (you will be informed of) a few things by me, and these in brief. We have a determined Senate, but the consulars are either cowardly or traitors (lit. men thinking badly); a great loss has happened in (the death of) Servius; Lucius Caesar thinks very well, but because he is (Antony's) uncle, he does not express very extreme views; the consuls (are) first class, Decimus Brutus (is) splendid, the boy Caesar (is) excellent, (and) of him I, at any rate, am hopeful for the future.





    








    



             

Sunday, 20 March 2011

EURIPIDES: EXTRACTS FROM "BACCHAE"

Introduction.


Bacchae ('women' of Bacchus', i.e. followers of Bacchus or Dionysus) is one of the last plays Euripides wrote. Found after his death in 406 B.C., it was produced probably in the following year. Towards the end of his life, Euripides (said to have become disenchanted with his relative lack of success) left Athens for the court of Macedon. This last masterpiece was probably written there: Euripides may have been inspired by the primitive vigour of Dionysiac religion in the northern mountains, in contrast to its comparatively tame form in Athens. At any rate, he returned in this play to what perhaps formed the subject of the very earliest Greek tragedies: the story of Dionysus himself, the god of theatre, of wine, and of all forms of ekstasis - standing outside the everyday personality.

The text for the following two extracts from this play, together with the introductory pieces and the epilogue, is taken from "The Greek Anthology", JACT, Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Pentheus and Dionysus.

Lines 481-508.

The play dramatises the original arrival of Dionysiac worship in Greece. Dionysus has come to Thebes to establish his rites. He has created havoc, driving the women of the city in a frenzy to Mount Cithaeron, to worship him there with dance and song. The young king, Pentheus, has rejected the new form of religion and has arrested the god, who is disguised as a young priest of his own cult. In this first passage Pentheus interrogates his captive.

Pentheus:  And did you come here first bringing the god?

Dionysus:  Each of the barbarians dances these secret rites.

Pe:  (Yes,) for they think much worse than the Greeks.

Di:  In this respect at least (they think) much better; but their laws (are) different.

Pe:  Do you perform these rites by night or by day?

Di:  The majority at night; darkness contains solemnity.

Pe:  This is treacherous towards women and corrupt.

Di:  And even in the day someone could discover something shameful.

Pe:  You must (lit. it is necessary for you to) pay the penalty for your evil devices.

Di:  And you for your ignorance and for being impious towards the god.

Pe:  How bold the Bacchant (is) and not untrained in speaking!

Di:  Tell (me) what I must (lit. it is necessary for me to) suffer. What harm will you do me?

Pe:  First, I shall cut your delicate hair.

Di:  My hair is sacred; and I am growing it for the god.

Pe:  Next, hand over this thyrsus (i.e. Bacchic wand) from your hands.

Di:  Take (it) from me yourself; I am carrying it for Dionysus..

Pe:  We shall guard your body inside prison.

Di:  The god himself will release me, whenever I wish.

Pe:  (Yes,) I suppose you call him standing among the Bacchants.

Di:  Even now, being nearby, he sees what I suffer.

Pe: And where is he? For (he is) not visible to my eyes.

Di:  Beside me, but you, yourself being impious do not see (him).

(Pentheus turns to his soldiers.)

Pe:  Seize (him); he despises me and Thebes.

Di:  I, being sensible, tell you, not being sensible, not to bind me.

Pe:  And I, being more powerful than you, indeed (tell them) to bind (you).

Di:  You do not know what life you live (lit. you are living), nor what you are doing, nor who you are.

Pe:  I am Pentheus, son of Agave, and of my father Echion.

Di:  You are well-suited to being unlucky in respect of your name. (N.B. Dionysus points out the similarity of Pentheus' name to 'penthos', meaning 'sorrow'.)

Lines 800-848.


Dionysus is imprisoned, but escapes amid the miraculous collapse of the royal house. A herdsman describes the remarkable powers of the women on Mount Cithaeron. In the following passage the escaped prisoner is interrogated again by Pentheus, but the king quickly loses his aggression, falls under the spell of the god, and is persuaded to go to the mountain disguised as a female follower of Dionysus, to spy on the rituals.

Pe:  We have been entangled with this unmanageable stranger, who, neither suffering nor doing, will be silent.

Di:   My good friend, it is still possible to arrange these things well.

Pe:  By doing what? By being a slave to my slaves?

Di:  I shall bring these women here without (the use of) weapons.

Pe:  Alas! You are now contriving this (as) a trick against me.

Di:  What sort (of trick), if I wish to save you by my contrivances?

Pe:  You have contrived this in common with (the women), so that you may revel all the time.

Di:  Yes indeed, I devised this with the god, certainly (lit. know it).

(Pentheus speaks first to his soldiers, and then to the disguised Dionysus.)

Pe:  Bring my armour to me here, and you stop talking!

Di:  Ah! would you like to see them sitting together in the mountains?

Pe:  Very much! I would give a countless weight of gold for that.

(From now on Dionysus gradually establishes a complete ascendancy over Pentheus.)

Di:  Why have you fallen into a great desire for this?

Pe:  I should see them being thoroughly drunk with distress.

Di:  Nevertheless, would you see gladly what is bitter to you?

Pe:  Know clearly (that I would), sitting in silence under the pine-trees.

Di:  But they will track you down, even if you go in secret.

Pe:  But (I shall go) openly; for you have spoken well about this.

Di:  So, am I to take you, and will you attempt the journey?

Pe:  Lead (me) as quickly as possible, and I grudge you the time.

Di:  Then put linen robes around your body.

Pe:  What on earth (is) this? From (being) a man, shall I be enrolled among women?

Di:  (Yes,) lest they kill you, if you are seen there (as) a man.

Pe:  You have spoken about this well again. How wise a person you always are!

Di:  Dionysus has taught me these things fully.

Pe:  So what can the things which you advise me (about so) well happen?

Di:  Going inside (the house), I shall put clothes on you.

Pe:  What clothing? Surely not female (clothing)? For shame holds me (back).

Di:  Are you no longer an eager spectator of the Maenads (i.e. the Bacchants)?

Pe:  And what clothing do you bid (me) to throw around my body?

Di:  I shall spread out hair at length on your head.

Pe:  And what is the second form of this adornment of mine?

Di:  A robe reaching to your feet; and there will be a headband on your head.

Pe:  And surely you will add something else to this for me.

Di:  A thyrsus in your hand, and a dappled fawn skin (around you).

Pe:  I should not be able to put on female clothing.

Di:  But, joining battle with the Bacchants, you will cause bloodshed.

Pe:  (You speak) correctly; I must (lit. it is necessary [for me] to) go first to spy.

Di:  At any rate (it is) wiser than to hunt trouble with trouble.

Pe:  And how shall I go through the city eluding the Thebans?

Di:  We shall go on deserted roads, and I shall lead (you).

Pe:  Anything (is) better than that the Bacchants laugh at me.

Di:  We two shall go into the house.

Pe:  I shall consider whatever things seem best.

Di:  That is possible; in every way, my contribution (is) ready at hand.

Pe:  I shall go in; for I shall either proceed bearing arms or I shall obey these counsels of yours.

(Pentheus goes into the house, and Dionysus turns to the Chorus.)

Di:  Women, this man is entering into our net, and he will come to the Bacchants, where he will pay the penalty (by) dying.

Epilogue.


The ominous prophecy of Dionysus is fulfilled. Pentheus is discovered by the frenzied women and killed. His mother, Agave, bears his severed head triumphantly to Thebes, and only when she has recovered from her madness finds that she has killed her son.

Friday, 18 March 2011

"OTIUM": SIX LATIN VERSE EXTRACTS

Introduction.


The following six verse extracts consider different aspects of "Otium", which means "Leisure" or "Ease." These    pieces are taken from "The Cambridge Latin Anthology", Cambridge University Press, 1996.

1.  The good life: Martial, Epigrams Book V, 20.


si tecum mihi, care Martialis,
securis liceat frui diebus,
si disponere tempus otiosum
et verae pariter vacare vitae, 
nec nos atria nec domos potentum
nec lites tetricas forumque triste
nossemus nec imagines superbas;
sed gestatio, fabulae, libelli,
Campus, porticus, umbra, Virgo, thermae,
haec essent loca semper, hi labores.
nunc vivit necuter sibi, bonosque
soles effugere atque abire sentit,
qui nobis pereunt et imputantur.
quisquam, vivere cum sciat, moratur?


If, dear Martial (i.e. a friend of the poet of the same name) I were permitted (lit. it were permitted to me) to enjoy carefree days with you, if (we were permitted) to arrange our leisure time, and to have the time for a genuine life in each other's company, we should not be familiar with the entrance-halls nor the houses of the powerful, nor troublesome lawsuits and the gloomy bar, nor haughty busts, but riding, conversation, books, the Campus Martius, colonnades, shade, the (Aqua) Virgo, the baths, these would always be our haunts, these our pursuits. (But), as things are, neither of the two (of us) lives for himself, and each of us sees the good days flee away and vanish, (days) which pass away from us, and are charged to our account. Does anyone hesitate when he knows how to live?

2.  The pleasures of country life: Horace, Epodes II, lines 1-8, 23-28.


beatus ille qui procul negotiis,
   ut prisca gens mortalium,
paterna rurs bobus exercet suis
   solutus omni faenore,
neque excitatur classico miles truci,
   neque horret iratum mare,
forumque vitat et superba civium
   potentiorum limina.
libet iacere modo sub antiqua ilice,
   modo in tenaci gramine.
labuntur altis interim ripis aquae,
   queruntur in silvis aves,
fontesque lymphis obstrepunt manantibus,
   somnus quod invitet leves.

Happy (is) he, who, far removed from (the cares of) business, as (one of) the ancient race of mortals, cultivates his ancestral fields with his own oxen, free from all usury; he is not roused as a soldier by a grim war-trumpet, nor does he shudder at the raging sea; and he avoids the Forum and the proud thresholds of the more powerful citizens. He is happy (lit. it is pleasing [to him]) to lie under an old holm-oak , now on the firm grass; meanwhile the streams glide by beneath steep banks, the birds sing (lit. complain) in the woods, and the  springs murmur with trickling waters, even if this may invite gentle sleep.

3.  Poetry and friendship: Catullus, carmen 50.


hesterno, Licini, die otiosi
multum lusimus in meis tabellis,
ut convenerat esse delicatos;
scribens versiculos uterque nostrum
ludebat numero modo hoc modo illoc,
reddens mutua per iocum atque vinum.
atque illinc abii tuo lepore
incensus, Licini, facetiisque,
ut nec me miserum cibus iuvaret
nec somnus tegeret quiete ocellos,
sed toto indomitus furore lecto
versarer, cupiens videre lucem,
ut tecum loquerer simulque ut essem.
at defessa labore membra postquam
semimortua lectulo iacebant,
hoc, iuncunde, tibi poema feci,
ex quo perspiceres meum dolorem.
nunc audax cave sis, precesque nostras,
oramus, cave despuas, ocelle,
ne poenas Nemesis reposcat a te.
est vemens dea. laedere hanc caveto.

Yesterday, Licinius, on a day of leisure, we played a lot (lit. much) on my writing tablets, as it had been agreed that we were frivolous men; each of us writing short verses, we played now in this metre, now in that one, exchanging (offerings) in turn amid jokes and wine. And I departed from there, Licinius, inflamed with your wit and charm, so that food did not please my wretched self, nor did sleep cover my eyes in slumber, but, wild with excitement, I toss and turn over the whole bed, longing to see the daylight, so that I might speak with you and so that I might be with you. But after my limbs, tired out by their labours, were lying half-dead on the bed, I composed this poem for you, dear (friend), from which you will perceive my passion. Now be careful (lest) you are presumptuous, and be careful (lest) you reject my pleadings, I beg (of you), (apple of) my eye, lest Nemesis demands retribution from you in turn. This goddess is inexorable. Beware of harming her. 

4.  Catullus invites a friend to dinner: Catullus, carmen 13. 

cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
paucis, si tibi di favent, diebus,
si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cenam, non sine candida puella
et vino et sale et omnibus cachinnis.
haec si, inquam, attuleris, venuste noster,
cenabis bene; nam tui Catulli
plenus sacculus est aranearum.
sed contra accipies meros amores,
seu quid suavius elegantiusve est:
nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae
donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque,
quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis,
totum ut te faciant, Fabulle, nasum. 

You will dine well at my house, my Fabullus, in a few days, if the gods favour you, provided you bring with you a good and a great feast (and are) not without a dazzling girl, and wine and wit and all sorts of laughter. Provided, I say, you bring these things, my charming (friend), you will dine well, for the purse of your Catullus is full of cobwebs. But, in return, you will receive pure love, or something which is sweeter or more elegant: for I shall give (you) an unguent which the Venuses and Cupids gave to my girl, (and) which, when you smell (it), you will ask the gods to make you all nose, Fabullus.

5.  A good place to find a girl: Ovid, Ars Amatoria, I, lines 89-100.


sed tu praecipue curvis venare theatris;
   haec loca sunt voto fertiliora tuo.
illic invenies quod ames, quod ludere possis,
   quodque semel tangas, quodque tenere velis.
ut redit itque frequens longum formica per agmen,
   granifero solitum cum vehit ore cibum, 
aut ut apes saltusque suos et olentia nactae
   pascua per flores et thyma summa volant,
sic ruit ad celebres cultissima femina ludos;
   copia iudicium saepe moratum meum est.
spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae;
   ille locus casti damna pudoris habet.

But you go hunting especially in rounded theatres; these are places more productive of your wishes. There you will find what you love, what you can string along, and what you can touch once, and what you may wish to keep. As the multitudinous ant returns and goes through a long procession when he carries his usual food in his grain-bearing mouth, or as bees finding both glades and fragrant pastures fly through flowers and the tips of thyme, so the smartest woman rushes to popular plays; their sheer number often hindered my choice. They come to watch, they come to be watched themselves; that place involves the loss of a chaste (sense of) shame.


6.  How ordinary people enjoy a festival: Ovid, Fasti, III: March 15: Ides.


Idibus est Annae festum geniale Perennae
   non procul a ripis, advena Thybri, tuis.
plebs venit ac virides passim disiecta per herbas
   potat et accumbit cum pare quisque sua;
sub Iove pars durat, pauci tentoria ponunt,
   sunt quibus e ramis frondea facta casa est;
pars, ubi pro rigidis calamos statuere columnis,
  desuper extentas imposuere togas.
sole tamen vinoque calent annosque precantur,
   quot sumant cyathos, ad numerumque bibunt;
invenies illic qui Nestoris ebibat annos,
   quae sit per calices facta Sibylla suos.   

The jolly festival of Anna Perennis is on the Ides not far from your banks, far-flowing Tiber. The people come and scattered everywhere over the green grass, drink and lie down with each person his own companion; some endure under the sky, a few pitch tents, (and) there are (some) by whom a leaf-covered shelter has been made from branches; others, when they have set up reeds in place of sturdy pillars, have placed their togas stretched out on top. Yet they are warm through the sun and the wine, and they pray for (as) many years as they take cupfuls and they drink by numbers; you will find (someone) who will drink down the years of Nestor (and someone) who has become the Sibyl through her wine-cups. And they sing whatever they have learned in the theatres, and they wave uninhibited at their words and, the mixing bowl having been set down, they join in coarse dances, and the smart girl-friend leaps around with streaming hair. When they return (home), they stagger and are a sight to the crowd, and the crowd along their route calls (them) blessed.

   


Monday, 14 March 2011

SOPHOCLES; EXTRACT FROM "PHILOCTETES"

Introduction. 


"Philoctetes" is one of Sophocles latest plays. It is unusual in several respects, with a small all-male cast and without a tragic ending. The text of this extract is taken from "A Greek Anthology", JACT, Cambridge University Press, 2002. The prologue and epilogue to this extract are also repeated here. 

Prologue.

Philoctetes joined the Greek expedition to Troy. During a halt to offer sacrifice at the island of Chryse he was bitten by a snake. The wound festered, and the stench and his cries so disturbed his comrades that they abandoned him on the neighbouring island of Lemnos. Ten years later the captive Trojan seer Helenus revealed that Troy could only be taken with the help of Philoctetes and the bow he had inherited from Heracles. The wily Odysseus has come to Lemnos with Neoptolemus, son of Achilles, who reluctantly tricks his way into the confidence of Philoctetes with a false story that he has quarrelled with the Greeks whom Philoctetes now hates. Philoctetes implores Neoptolemus to take him home, and Neoptolemus pretends to agree. But when Philoctetes is struck by an attack of pain and hands over his bow, Neoptolemus is overcome by remorse and reveals the truth. He is about to hand back the bow when Odysseus intervenes to prevent him. After a choral song, Neoptolemus makes a second attempt to restore the bow to its owner.

Lines 1261-1347.  Neoptolemus tries to persuade Philoctetes.


(Neoptolemus approaches the entrance to Philoctetes' cave.)

Neoptolemus:  But you, o son of Poeas, I am am referring to Philoctetes, come out and leave (lit. leaving) this rocky dwelling.

(Enter Philoctetes.)

Philoctetes:  What sound of shouting arise once more beside my cave? Why do you summon me? What do you want (from me), strangers? (He sees Neoptolemus.) Alas, this business will bring evil. Surely you are not here bringing me some big evil in addition to my (existing) evils.

Ne:  Take courage! And listen to the words which I have come to bring.

Phi:  I am afraid. For previously I fared badly from your beautiful words, having believed in your promises.

Ne:  Is it not possible to change your mind again?

Phi:  You were just like this in your words when stealing my bow, (apparently) trustworthy (but) secretly destructive.

Ne:  But certainly (I am) not at all (like that) now. But I do wish to ascertain from you whether you have decided (lit. it has seemed good to you) to persist in remaining (here), or to sail with us.

Phi:  Stop! Do not speak further! For everything, whatever things you say, will be said in vain.

Ne:  Have you decided (has it seemed good [to you]) thus?

Phi:  Know (it) further than I can say it?

Ne:  But I could have wished that you had believed my words; but if I do not happen to have said anything opportunely, I am finished.

Phi:  (Yes), for you will say everything in vain; for you will not ever obtain my mind well-disposed, you, who taking my livelihood by trickery, have robbed (me of it). And then you come (here) to admonish (lit. then coming [here] you admonish) me, (you) hateful offspring of a noble father. May you (all) perish, especially the sons of Atreus (i.e. Agamemnon and Menelaus), and then the son of Laertes (i.e. Odysseus) and you!

Ne:  Do not curse (any) further! But receive this weapon from my hand.

Phi:  What did you say (lit. how did you speak)? Am I being ensnared a second time?

Ne:  I deny (it) on oath, by the sacred majesty of the most high Zeus.

Phi:  Oh, you are speaking welcome things, if you are speaking true things.

Ne:  The plain deed will be at hand. But stretch out your right hand and become master of your weapon.

(Odysseus suddenly enters.)

Odysseus:  I forbid (this), as the gods (are) my witnesses, on behalf of both sons of Atreus and the entire army.

Phi:  Child, whose voice (is that)? Did I not hear Odysseus?

Od:  It certainly is (lit. know [it] clearly); and you see nearby (you) (the man) who will send you by force to the plains of Troy, whether the son of Achilles is willing and whether (he is) not.

(Philoctetes puts an arrow to his bow and levels it at Odysseus.)

Phi:  But you will not rejoice in any way, if this weapon is aimed straight.

Ne:  Ah, in no way, (do) not (do it), in the name of the gods, do not shoot that arrow!

Phi:  In the name of the gods, let go of my hand, dearest child!

Ne:  I cannot let go.

(Odysseus escapes.)

Phi:  Alas, why have you prevented me from killing that hateful hostile man with my bow?

Ne:  But that is right neither for me nor for you.

Phi:  May you know so much at least, that the chiefs of the army and the false heralds of the Achaeans are bold in their words, (but) cowards in battle.

Ne:  Well, so be it! You have your bow, and there is not (anything) of which you should have cause for anger or complaint against me.

Phi:  I agree; O child, you show the nature from which you were sprung, not from Sisyphus (as) a father, but from Achilles, who was known (lit. heard himself spoken of) as the noblest when he was among the living, and now among the dead.

Ne:  I have taken pleasure in you praising my father and myself as well (lit. me myself). But listen to what I want to get from you. For it is necessary for men to endure the fortunes given (to them) by the gods. But all those who are involved in self-inflicted miseries, like you, it is neither just to hold out pardon to them, nor to pity such a man. You have become wild and you do not welcome an adviser, and, if someone, speaking with good will, admonishes you, you hate (him), considering (him) hostile and ill-disposed (towards you). Nevertheless, I shall speak (to you); and I shall call Zeus (as) a witness; and you must remember these (words) and write (them) within your mind. For you are suffering this affliction from divine fate, having encountered (lit. come near to) the sentinel of Chryse, the serpent, which, keeping watch secretly, guards her roofless shrine. Know that you cannot ever gain relief from this grave sickness, so long as the same sun rises here on the one hand, (i.e. in the east) and on the other hand can set back there (i.e. in the west) again, until you yourself come willingly to the plains of Troy, and, finding the sons of Asclepius among us, you are relieved of this illness, and you are shown  to have laid low its citadel with this bow and in company with me. How I know these things will happen in this way, I shall tell (you). There is among us a man, a prisoner from Troy, Helenus, a foremost seer, who says plainly that it is necessary for these things to come to pass; and in addition to this still that it is necessary, this summer being here, for the whole of Troy to be captured. Otherwise, he gives himself willingly to be killed (lit. for killing), if in saying this he proves false. So, since you know this now, give way graciously. For the additional gain (is) glorious, in respect of one man having been judged the best of the Greeks, firstly (by) coming into healing hands, and then (by) taking Troy, rich in tears, (and so) winning the highest renown.

Epilogue.

Philoctetes now hesitates. he does not want to refuse his new-found friend; yet he cannot bring himself to go  near the Atreidae. When he asks to be taken home as he was originally promised, Neoptolemus agrees. But then events are taken out of their hands: Heracles appears above them to declare the will of Zeus, that Philoctetes must go to Troy where he will find health and fame.



Friday, 11 March 2011

VIRGIL: "BUCOLICS" (THE PASTORAL POEMS)

Introduction.


The "Bucolics" ("Songs about Herdsmen") which consist of ten short poems, commonly known as "Eclogues" or "Select Pieces", were the first works to be published by Virgil. This was in 39 B.C., at the commencement of the "Golden Age" of Latin literature.These poems are reputed to have taken Rome by storm, and were recited or sung in theatres, and quoted by smart young men who wished, no doubt, to show off their cultural accomplishments, as is the way of world.

In these early years in the development of Latin letters, it was 'de rigueur' for aspiring poets to copy a Greek artist, and in the case of the "Bucolics" Virgil modelled his work on the pastoral poet Theocritus, who flourished in the first half of the Third Century B.C. Although born on the island of Cos, Theocritus lived for most of his life in Sicily, a country known for its pastoral communities and the lively disposition of its people. Theocritus' poems, known as "Idylls" or "Short Sketches" are descriptive of country life and frequently take the form of dramatic dialogue. They reflect a love of music and dance which arises naturally from the felicity of a shepherd's existence in a comfortable southern clime, and also to the singing matches and related improvisations which were common at village feasts among Dorian communities, whether on the Greek mainland or in its colonial offshoots.

A number of commentators of Virgil's works have criticised the "Bucolics" for their artificiality, and see these early poems as mere exercises or "ludi" ("games"), and thus as immature works when compared with his later master-pieces of the "Georgics" and the "Aeneid". Others have seen them as poems of the greatest beauty and tenderness. The French intellectual Voltaire thought lines 38-41 in Eclogue 8 as the greatest piece of writing in Latin literature, and Thomas Macaulay, author of "The Lays of Ancient Rome", believed the "Bucolics" to be superior to both the "Georgics" and the "Aeneid". Among English poets John Milton wrote his "Lycidas" in imitation of them, and a number of the works of Pope, Wordsworth and Coleridge display their influence. The Fourth Eclogue is perhaps the best known passage of all the works of Virgil, because of the belief of so many Christians down through the centuries that the "cara deum suboles", the "dear child of the gods", whom Virgil prophesies is to be born, was Jesus Christ. The genre of pastoral poetry, in which the unrequited loves and musical contests of rustic swains are depicted in a stylised world dominated by sheep, goats, trees, and the effects of the changing seasons, is not a medium which it is easy for the uninitiated to appreciate. However, the quality of Virgil's "Pastoral Poems" is well brought out in this tribute by E.V. Rieu, who published the Penguin Books' translation in 1949:

"...what inspired and unifies the "Eclogues" is a poet's perception of certain realities that underlie our relation to the world around us. It was in his Arcady, the pastoral world of his memories and of his fancy, that Virgil found the window which gave him this vision of the truth, and sensed the spirit that pulsates in everything that is, and makes a harmony of man, tree, beast and rock. Nature is fundamentally at one with man.....It is the shepherd and his sheep that are her nurslings and her confidants. It is they who comprehend, when the 'woods on Maenalus make music and the pine-trees speak.' Virgil had listened with them as a boy, and he remembers what he had heard and seen - a world where everything is quick with understanding, where 'the rocks burst into song and the plantations speak'..."

The ten "Eclogues" fall into two sections. Eclogues 2, 3, 4, 5 and 7, with 8 at their head, were probably sent to C. Asinius Pollio in 39, in thanks for his introduction to the young triumvir Caesar Octavian, as a result of which Virgil's family farm near Mantua was saved from confiscation during the programme of land settlements to provide lands for veterans discharged after the battle of Philippi in 42 B.C. Eclogues 1, 6 and 9 all relate to Virgil's own personal experiences with regard to these events, and in Eclogue 1, no doubt placed deliberately at the beginning of the final version, Virgil expresses his great gratitude to Octavian for the safety of his father's property. Eclogue 10, a poem written to console Virgil's friend and fellow poet, Gallus, is specifically stated to be the last.

The "Bucolics" are not easy to translate, partly because of the frequent difficulty of determining what exactly Virgil is seeking to say. Sometimes he is almost quoting from Theocritus, and familiarity with that poet's works would assist. However, the quality of the hexameter verse is high. There are no unfinished lines, as in the "Aeneid"; there are relatively few elisions, and almost none at the point of the main caesura, or natural line -break, and as a result the verses can be read with ease. Hence, the polished impression of these poems is at odds with the notion of the "Bucolics" as an immature work.

The text of this translation is that of T.E. Page, M.A., Litt.D. in the Macmillan Elementary Classics Series, 1931. Like a number of commentators, Dr. Page is at times highly critical of the artificiality of this work, but in his introduction he acknowledges its beauty as follows: "None the less, as ecclesiastical art often shows, what is extremely conventional may be extremely beautiful, and the beauty of the Eclogues in beyond question." (page xix.)
  
Ecloga 1.  Tityrus, or "The Dispossessed." 


Meliboeus:  Tityrus, you, lying at ease under the awning of a spreading beech-tree, are practising a woodland melody (lit. Muse) on a slender pipe (lit. oak-straw); I am relinquishing the boundaries of my native-land and the fields (so) sweet (to me): I flee my native-land; you, Tityrus, at ease in the shade, teach the woods to re-echo (the words) "beauteous Amaryllis."

Tityrus:  O Meliboeus, a god has made this leisure for me. For indeed he will always be a god to me, and a tender lamb from my sheep-fold will often moisten his altar. As you (can) see, he vouchsafed (to me) that my cattle should roam and that I myself should play whatever I wished on my rural reed-pipe. 

Meliboeus:  For my part, I am not jealous; I marvel (all) the more: (as) on all sides confusion reigns (lit. it is disturbed) to such an extent even throughout all the fields. Behold, I myself, sick (as I am) am driving my goats forthwith. I can scarcely even lead this one (after me), Tityrus. For only (lately) here among the dense hazel-trees, having borne twin (kids), the hope of the flock, ah, she left (them) on the naked flint. I remember that the oak-tree, struck (by thunder) from heaven, often foretold us of this disaster, (and I should have acted on this warning), if my mind had not been stupid. But yet, Tityrus, tell us who is this god of yours. 

Tityrus:  I, simpleton (that I was), thought, Meliboeus, that the city which they call Rome, was like this one of ours (i.e. Mantua), to which we, shepherds, are often wont to drive the young offspring of our sheep (to market). Thus, I had known puppies to be like dogs, thus kids (to be like) their dams, (and) thus I was wont to compare great things to small ones. But this (city) has reared aloft its head as far above other cities, as cypress-trees are accustomed (to tower) above pliant osiers.

Meliboeus:  And what was for you so great a reason for seeing Rome?  

Tityrus:  Liberty, which, though late, had regard for (me), the sluggard, after my beard fell whiter, with me trimming (it), yet regard me it did, and it came after a long time, now that Amaryllis possesses me, and Galatea has left (me). For indeed, for I confess (it), while Galatea was holding me, there was no hope of liberty nor (any) concern for saving money. Although many a victim went forth from my sheep-fold and a rich cheese was pressed (in my dairy) for the ungrateful town, my right (hand) never (lit. not ever) returned home heavy with money (lit. bronze).

Meliboeus:  I used to wonder, Amaryllis, why you called (so) sadly to the gods; (and) for whom you allowed their own apples to hang on the trees: Tityrus was away from here. To her, Tityrus, the pine-trees, the very springs (and) these very orchards were calling.

Tityrus:  What (else) was I to do? Neither was it (otherwise) permitted that I should escape from my servitude, nor elsewhere to identify gods so available to help (me). There, Meliboeus, I saw that young man, to whom yearly for twelve (lit. twice six) days my altars smoke. There, at once, he gave a reply to me seeking (one): "Feed your cows as before, boys: rear your bulls."

Meliboeus; So, (you) happy old man, your fields will remain (yours), and (will be) big enough for you. Although bare rock and marsh with muddy rushes will overlay your pastures, unaccustomed fodder will not try your drooping pregnant mothers, nor will the evil contagion of a neighbouring flock harm (them). Happy old man, here amid familiar streams and holy springs you will strive after shady coolness. On this side, as always, the hedge of willow from the neighbouring boundary, having been fed, in respect of its flowers, by Hyblaean bees, will often urge, with its gentle humming, sleep to come upon you; on that side, at the foot of the high rock, the vine-dresser will sing to the breezes; nor yet meanwhile will the wood-pigeons, your care, (be) hoarse, nor will the turtle-dove cease to coo from the elm-tree reaching to the sky.

Tityrus:  So, sooner will light stags feed in the air, and will the seas abandon their fish naked on the shore; sooner, the boundaries of both being wandered over, either the Parthian exile will drink the Arar (i.e. the Saone) or the German (exile drink) the Tigris, than the face of that man will fade from my heart.

Meliboeus:  But we shall go from here, some to the burning Africans, others shall reach the Oxus, rolling with chalk, and the Britons totally separated from the whole world. Ah, shall I ever, after a long time (has passed), (beholding) my country's borders, and the roof of my humble cottage piled with turf, some (day) afterwards, beholding my domain, marvel at (some) ears of corn?  Is some impious soldier to own these acres so (well) cultivated (by me)? (Is some) barbarian (to own) these crops? Behold, to what (a pass) has (civil) discord brought our poor citizens! For these men we have sown our fields! Now, Meliboeus, graft your pears: plant your vines in a row. Go, my once happy flock, go, my she-goats. I, stretched out in (some) green cavern, shall not afterwards behold you from afar, hanging from a bushy rock; I shall sing no (more) songs; you will not (again) pluck, with me setting (you) to graze, the flowering clover and the bitter willow (shoots).

Tityrus:  Yet this night you could rest here with me on the green foliage: I have (lit. there are to me) (some) mellow apples, mealy chestnuts and an abundance of cheese (lit. curdled milk); and now the roof-tops of the houses are smoking from afar, and the shadows of the mountain peaks are falling farther (out).

Ecloga 2.  Alexis, or "The Passionate Shepherd to his love."

The shepherd Corydon was burning (with love) for the fair Alexis, his master's favourite; and he did not have anything to hope for. He could not but come (lit. he only came) constantly among the dense elm-trees (as) a shady roof-covering. And there, alone, he used to fling these disordered (rhymes) with idle passion to the mountains and woods: "O cruel Alexis, do you care nothing for my songs? Do you not pity me at all? You will force me finally to die. Now even the cattle seek the shade and coolness, now even the thorn-bush hides the green lizards, and Thestylis pounds garlic and thyme, fragrant herbs, for the reapers wearied by the scorching heat: yet, with me, while I trace your footsteps under the burning sun, the orchards resound with raucous cicadas. Were it not better to endure the sulky passions and proud disdain of Amaryllis? (Were it) not (better to endure) Menalcas, although he was dark, (and) although you (are) fair? O beautiful boy, do not rely too much on complexion: the white privet (flowers) fall (ungathered), and the dark bilberries are picked. I am despised by you, and you do not ask who I am, Alexis, how rich (I am) in flocks, how abounding in snow(-white) milk: I (can) sing as Dircaean (i.e. Theban) Amphion was wont (to do) on Actaean (i.e. Attic) Aracynthus. Nor am I so ill-favoured: I saw myself lately on the beach, when the sea lay (lit. stood) becalmed by the winds; with you (as) the judge, I should not fear Daphnis, since (lit. if) that reflection never deceives. O let it only be pleasing to you to inhabit the rough countryside and (some) humble cottages with me, and to shoot hinds and to drive together the flock of kids with a green marsh-mallow (switch); you will imitate Pan by playing together with me in the woods. Pan first taught (men) to join together many reeds with wax, (for) Pan cares for sheep and the masters of sheep. And may you not regret (lit. may it not repent you) to have chafed your lip with a reed. To learn these same things, what did Amyntas not do? I have (lit. there is to me) a pipe, fixed together with seven hemlock stalks of different lengths, (which) Damoetas, a long time ago, (while) dying, gave to me as a gift, and he said, 'It has you now as a second (master)': Damoetas said (that), (and) Amyntas, the foolish (fellow), was jealous. Besides, two roe-bucks (were) found by me in a not (very) safe valley, their coats speckled with white even now; twice a day they suck the teats of a ewe: I am keeping these for you. Thestylis has long been (lit. is already for some time) begging to take them away from me; and (so) she shall do, since my gifts are dirty in your eyes. Come hither, O beautiful boy: behold, the Nymphs bring lilies in full baskets for you; for you, a white Naiad, plucking pale irises and poppy-heads, joins narcissus and the flower of the pleasant (lit. well) smelling anise; then, interweaving (them) with cassia and other sweet herbs, she sets the tender hyacinth off with the yellow marigold.  I, myself, shall gather quinces (lit. hoary apples) with their tender down and the nuts of chestnut-trees, which my Amaryllis used to love; I shall add (some) waxy plums: there will be honour (shown) to this fruit also; and you, O laurel, I shall pluck, and you (too), neighbouring myrtle, since, thus placed, you will mingle sweet smells. Corydon, you are a yokel: Alexis does not care for gifts, and, if you vie (with him) through gifts, Iollas will not yield. Alas, alas! what have I wished on my poor self? Having been destroyed (in my mind), I have let loose the south wind on my flowers and wild boars in my limpid fountains. Ah, foolish one, from whom do you flee? Gods and Dardanian Paris also lived in the woods. Let Pallas, herself, inhabit the citadels which she established: let the woods delight us before everything (else). The wild lioness pursues the wolf, the wolf itself (pursues) the goat, the wanton goat pursues the flowering clover, Corydon (pursues) you, O Alexis: his own desire drags each one (along). Look, the cattle draw home by the yoke the hanging ploughs, and the setting sun doubles the lengthening shadows: yet love (still) burns me (up): for what limit can there be to love? Ah, Corydon, Corydon, what madness has taken hold of you? You have (There is to you) a half-pruned vine on a leafy elm-tree. But are you not rather preparing to plait with osiers and pliant rushes at least something (of those things) of which (daily) usage is in need? If this one scorns you, you will find another Alexis.

Ecloga 3.  Palaemon, or "Are these Meliboeus' sheep?" 


Menalcas:  Tell me, Damoetas, whose flock (is that)? (Is it) Meliboeus's?

Damoetas:  No, but (it is) Aegon's; Aegon has recently handed them over to me.

Menalcas:  O (poor) sheep, always an unhappy flock! While the master (lit. he) courts Neaera, and he fears lest she may prefer me to him, here a hireling shepherd milks his sheep twice in the hour, and the life-juice is stolen from the flock and milk from the lambs.

Damoetas:  But remember more sparingly those taunts of yours being thrown at men. I know (what you did) and who (did it) with you, the he-goats looking askance, and in what shrine (you did it) [but the tolerant Nymphs laughed].

Menalcas: (O that happened) then, I suppose, when they saw me hack at Micon's orchard and young vines with a spiteful hook.

Damoetas:  Or here by those old beeches, when you smashed up Daphnis' bow and arrows: (O) perverse Menalcas, you both grieved at these, when you saw (them) given to the boy, and you would have died of spite (over these) if you had not harmed (them) in some way.

Menalcas: What can owners do, when thieves are so daring (lit. dare such things)? Did I not see you, (you) rogue, trying to take by stealth a goat belonging to Damon, with Lycisca barking vigorously (lit. much)? And, when I called out, "Whither is that (villain) rushing (lit. hurrying himself forward) now? Tityrus, round up your flock!" you were skulking in the rushes.

Damoetas:  Or, was he, having been beaten in playing, not returning to me the goat which my pipe had earned by its tunes? If you do not know, that goat was mine; and Damon, himself, admitted (it) to me; but he said that he could not make the payment.

Menalcas:  (Did) you (beat) him in playing? Did you ever have (lit. Was there ever to you) a pipe joined with wax? Were you not accustomed, (you) dolt, (while standing) at the crossroads, to murder a miserable tune with a squeaking straw?

Damoetas;  So, do you wish that we should try between ourselves what each can (do), (playing) in turn? I stake this heifer - lest, perchance, you may refuse, it comes twice (a day) to the milk-pail, and it feeds a pair of calves from its udders: (now) you must say with what pledge you contend with me.

Menalcas: I could not dare to stake anything from my flock against you. For I have (lit. there is to me) at home a father and an unjust step-mother; and twice a day they count, both (of them) the flock, (and) one (of them) the kids also. But -  since it is pleasing to you to be insane - I shall stake a thing which even you yourself will admit is much more (valuable), (two) beechwood cups, the engraved work of the divine Alcimedon: on these, pliant vine, overlaid with a skilful chisel, clothes the clusters spread by the pale ivy. In the centre (there are) two figures, Conon and -- who was the other (sage) who mapped the whole circuit (of the heavens) for mankind, (that is) the seasons, which the reaper (and) the husbandman, bent (over the plough), would keep?  Nor yet have I touched them with my lips, but I have kept them in store.

Damoetas:  For me too, the same Alcimedon has made two cups, and he wreathed the handles around with pliant acanthus leaves, and in the centre he portrayed (lit. placed) Orpheus and the woods following (him); nor yet have I touched (them) with my lips, but I have kept (them) stored away. If you look at a heifer, there is no reason as to which you should praise cups.

Menalcas:  You will not (lit. never) escape (me) today; I shall come whithersoever you bid me. Provided that (someone) may hear these things - or (even) Palaemon, who is (now) approaching - look! - , I shall bring it about that you do not challenge anyone with your voice in future.

Damoetas:  However, come on, if you have anything (worth listening to), (for) there will not be any delay in me, nor do I flee from anyone: only, neighbour Palaemon, may you lay up your inmost thoughts - (for this contest) is no small matter.

Palaemon: Sing on (then), since we are sitting down together on soft grass, and now every field, now every tree is bringing forth, now the woods are in leaf, now the year (is) at its loveliest. Begin, Damoetas; then you follow, Menalcas. You will sing alternately; (for) the Camenae (i.e. the Muses) love alternate (songs).

Damoetas:  (O) Muses, the beginning (is) from Jupiter: everything (is) full of Jupiter; he cherishes the earth; my songs are of concern to him.

Menalcas:  There are always special gifts for Phoebus (i.e. Apollo) in my home, laurel and the sweetly blushing hyacinth.

Damoetas:  Galatea, the saucy girl, pelts me with an apple, and (then) flees to the willows, and desires that she is seen first (lit. beforehand) (by me).

Menalcas:  And my love (lit. flame), Amyntas, comes (lit. brings himself) to me unbidden, as Delia is not now better known to my dogs.

Damoetas:  My gifts have been acquired for my love (lit. Venus): for I have marked the spot, to which they have carried (materials for building their nests) in the air.

Menalcas:  I have sent to my (dear) boy what I have been able (to send), ten golden apples, picked from a tree in the woods.

Damoetas:  O how often and what (words) Galatea has spoken to me! (O) winds, may you carry some part (of them) to the ears of the gods!

Menalcas:  How does it help (me) (lit. What avails [it]) in that you do not yourself despise me in your heart, Amyntas, if, while you are hunting wild boars, I hold the nets?

Damoetas:  Send Phyllis to me: it is my birthday, Iollas; when I sacrifice ( lit. make [a sacrifice with]) a heifer, (then) come yourself.

Menalcas:  I love Phyllis before (all) others: for she wept to see me go, and uttered a lingering "Farewell, fair (youth), farewell, (O) Iollas."

Damoetas:  A bane (is) the wolf to the sheep-fold, the rains to the ripe crops, the winds to the trees, (and) the rages of Amaryllis to me.

Menalcas:  Moisture (is) sweet to crops, arbutus to weaned kids, the pliant willow to pregnant ewes, (but) only Amyntas to me.

Damoetas:  Pollio loves my Muse, although she is a rustic: (O) Pierian Maidens (i.e. the Muses), feed a heifer for your reader.

Menalcas:  Pollio himself  too is making new verses: feed a bull (for him), so that it may butt (lit. attack with its horn) and scatter the sand with its feet.

Damoetas:  Whoever loves you, Pollio, may he come whither he rejoices that you too (have) also (come); may honey flow for him, and may a bramble bush produce cardamon spice.

Menalcas:  Let (he), who does not hate Bavius, (also) love your verses, Maevius, and likewise let him harness foxes (to the plough) and milk he-goats.

Damoetas:  O lads, who are picking flowers and strawberries growing in the ground, flee hence, (as) a clammy snake is lurking in the grass.

Menalcas: Sheep, refrain from venturing too far: it is not safe to trust the (lit. trust is not well given to) the river-bank.

Damoetas:  Tityrus, drive your goats away from the stream; when there is (lit. will be) time, I myself shall wash (them) all in the spring.

Menalcas:  Drive together the sheep (into the shade), boys; if the heat shall have first caught the milk, as (it did) recently, we shall press their udders with our hands (lit. hand-palms) in vain.

Damoetas:  Alas, alas! How lean my bull is amid the fattening vetch! The same love (is) destruction for both the herd and the master of the herd.

Menalcas:  To these (lambs) at any rate love is not the cause: (yet) they are scarcely sticking to their bones. I know not what (evil) eye is bewitching my young lambs.

Damoetas:  Say in what country - and you will be great Apollo to me -  heaven's space extends no more (than) three ells.

Menalcas:  Say in what country do flowers grow, having been inscribed with the names of kings.

Palaemon:  I am not able (lit. [it is] not of me) to settle so great a strife between you. Both you and he (are) worthy of a heifer, as are (lit. and) whoever shall (like you) either fear sweet loves or experience bitter (loves). Now shut off the sluices, boys: the meadows have drunk enough.

Ecloga 4.  Pollio, or "The Golden Age returns."


Muses of Sicily, let us sing a somewhat more exalted (lit. greater) (theme)! Groves of trees and humble tamarisks do not please everyone; if we sing of woods, let them be woods worthy of a consul. The last era of Cumaean (i.e. Sybilline) song has now come; the great sequence of ages is born anew (lit. from fresh). Now the Maiden (i.e. Astraea, or Justice) returns, and the reign of Saturn returns; now a new breed (of men) is being sent down from the high heaven. Only, do you, chaste Lucina, smile on the boy being born, through whom the iron (race) shall first cease, and the golden race shall arise throughout the whole world: now your own Apollo reigns. And with you, even you, (O) Pollio, (as) consul, shall this glory of the age begin, and the mighty months will start to progress; with you (as) leader, if any traces of our guilt remain, having been obliterated, they shall free the world from terror. He will receive the life of the gods, and will see heroes intermingling with gods, and he himself will be seen by them, and he shall rule a world pacified by the virtues of his father. And you, (O) boy, first shall the earth, with no cultivation, pour forth everywhere her little gifts, the roaming ivy with fox-gloves, and Egyptian lilies mixed with the smiling acanthus. The goats themselves will carry home their udders swollen (lit. having been stretched) with milk, and the cattle will not fear the mighty lions. Your very cradle will pour forth caressing flowers. The snake too will die, and poison's treacherous plant will perish. Assyrian spice will grow everywhere (lit. will be born commonly). As soon as you will be able to learn to read of the praises of the heroes and the deeds of your father, and so what virtue is, the plain will gradually become yellow with waving corn, and the ruby grape will hang from wild brambles, and hard oaks will sweat dewy honey. However, a few traces of our former wickedness will linger on, so as to bid (us) to make hazard of the sea (lit. Thetis), to gird our towns with walls, (and) to cleave furrows in the earth. Then there will be a second Tiphys, and a second Argo to carry chosen heroes; there will also be other wars, and mighty Achilles will again be sent to Troy. Hence, when by now strengthened years have made you a man, of his own accord the merchant (lit. passenger) will quit (lit. withdraw from) the sea, and the pine-wood ship (lit. sea-going pine-tree) will not exchange merchandise (lit. reward). Every land will produce everything (it needs). The ground will not suffer mattocks, nor the vines the pruning-hook; then the strong ploughman  will unbind the yokes from his oxen (lit. bulls); wool will learn not to counterfeit different colours, but the ram himself in his own meadows will change (the colour of) its fleece now to soft ruby purple, now to saffron yellow; of its own accord, scarlet will clothe the grazing lambs. "Run on, such (blessed) ages," said the Fates to their spindles, agreeing with the fixed decree of destiny. Enter upon your high honours - for the time will soon be here - O dear offspring of the gods, mighty germ of Jupiter! Look at the world shaking with its vaulted mass, the lands, the expanses of sea and the deep sky: behold, how all things are rejoicing in the age to come. O, may the last part of so long a life remain, and (such) inspiration as shall be enough to tell of your deeds, (and) may neither Thracian Orpheus nor Linus conquer me with songs, although his mother was present for the one and his father for the other, Calliope for Orpheus and the beautiful Apollo for Linus. Even if Pan, with Arcady (as) judge, were to contend with me, even Pan, with Arcady (as) judge, would declare himself defeated. Begin, little boy, to recognise your mother with a smile; ten long months have brought weariness to your mother. Begin, little boy: him, upon whom his parents have not smiled, neither a god will deem worthy of his table, nor a goddess of her couch.

Ecloga 5.  Daphnis, or "Daphnis at Heaven's Gate."


Menalcas:  Why have we not, (O) Mopsus, sat down together, since we have both met together (as) experts, you  to breathe upon light reed-pipes, I to utter verses amid the elm-trees mixed with hazels?

Mopsus:  You (are) the elder; it is fair I obey you, Menalcas, whether we go beneath the flickering (lit. uncertain) shade with the West Winds shifting, or rather into a cave. Look, how the woodland wild vine has sprinkled the cave with clusters of grapes here and there.

Menalcas:  Begin first, Mopsus, if you have any flames for Phyllis, or praises of Alcon or complaints about (lit. quarrels with) Codrus. Begin; Tityrus will look after our grazing kids.

Mopsus:  Nay rather, I shall try these songs, which I recently wrote down on the green bark of a beech-tree. Do you then bid that Amyntas competes.

Menalcas:  As the pliant willow yields to the pale olive, (and) as the humble Egyptian reed (yields) to purple rose-gardens, so in my judgement Amyntas yields to you. But you must stop (any) more (talk), boy, we have come into the cave.  

Mopsus:  The Nymphs wept for Daphnis, destroyed by a cruel death; you hazel-trees and rivers (were) witnesses to the Nymphs, when his mother, embracing the poor body of her son, calls both the gods and the stars cruel. Nobody (lit. not anybody) drove their grazing oxen to the cool streams in those (sad) days, nor did any four-footed creature taste the river, nor touch a blade of grass. (O) Daphnis, the wild mountains and forests state that even the Punic lions lamented your death. Daphnis taught (us) to yoke Armenian tigers to the chariot, Daphnis (taught us) to lead the dances (in honour) of Bacchus, and to wreathe our supple spear-wands with pliant leaves. And (as) the vine is the glory amid the trees, as grapes (are) amid grapes, as bulls amid their herds and corn-crops amid rich ploughlands, (so are) you all the glory to your (people). When the fates took you away (from us), Pales herself and Apollo himself, left our fields. To what furrows we have entrusted large (grains of) barley, (in these) fruitless darnel and barren wild oats spring up (lit. are born); the thistle and thorn with their prickly spines arise in place of the soft(-coloured) viola and the bright (lit. purple) narcissus. Sprinkle the ground with leaves, draw shade over the fountains, shepherds; Daphnis enjoins that such (rites) be done for him; both build a mound, and on top of the mound add this verse: "I (am) Daphnis, famous in the woods, (famous) from here as far as the stars, (once) the guardian of a fair flock, myself fairer (still)."

Menalcas:  Such a thing (is) your song to me, (O) divine poet, as slumber on the grass (is) to the weary, (or) as quenching the thirst in the heat from a gushing (lit. leaping) rivulet of sweet water. Nor are you equal to your master only on the reed-pipe, but in your voice (also). Fortunate boy, you will now be second to him. Yet, I in turn shall sing these (songs) of mine to you in whatever way (I can), and I shall raise your Daphnis to the stars; I shall bear Daphnis to the stars: (for) Daphnis loved me also.

Mopsus:  Could anything be greater to me than such a gift? And the boy himself was worthy to be sung (about), and Stimichon has, for some time already, been praising your songs to me. Therefore, eager pleasure takes hold of the woods and the rest of the countryside, and Pan and the shepherds and the Dryad girls. Neither does the wolf devise an ambush against the flock, nor the nets any trick against the deer; good Daphnis loves repose. Through joy, the wooded (lit. unshorn) mountains themselves fling their voices to the stars; now the very rocks, (and) the very groves cry aloud their song: "A god, a god he (is), (O) Menalcas!" Oh, be kind and propitious to your own (people)! Look, four altars: behold, two for you, Daphnis, (and) two for Phoebus. Annually I shall set before you two cups on each (altar) foaming with milk and two mixing-bowls of rich olive-oil; and above all (lit. in the first [place]), making the banquets convivial with much wine (lit. Bacchus), before the hearth, if it is (lit. will be) winter, in the shade, if it (is) the harvest, I shall pour in goblets Ariusian (i.e. Chian) wine, a new nectar. Damoetas and Lyctian (i.e. Cretan) Aegon will sing to me: Alphesiboeus will mimic the leaping Satyrs. These (rites) will always be yours, both when we (duly) repay to the Nymphs our solemn vows, and when we purify the fields. As long as the wild boar (will love) the heights of the mountain, and as long as fishes will love the the rivers, as long as bees feed on thyme, and as long as cicadas (feed on) dew, your dignity and your name and your praises will always endure. As to Bacchus and to Ceres, so to you the farmers will make vows annually; you too will order them to make payment (lit. will condemn [them]) in vows.

Mopsus:  What, what gifts can I repay to you in return for such a song? For neither the whistling of the gathering South Wind, nor the the beaches so beaten by the surf, nor the streams that hurry down between rocky dells, delight me so greatly.

Menalcas:  First, I shall give you this fragile hemlock(-pipe). This (pipe taught) me "Corydon was burning with  love for the fair Alexis," this same (pipe) taught (me) "Whose flock (is that)? (Is it) Meliboeus's?"

Mopsus:  But you must take this beautiful shepherd's crook with its regular knots and bronze (studs), which, although he often asked me, Antigenes (could) not win (lit. carry off) (from me) - and at that time, (O) Menalcas, he was worthy to be loved.

Ecloga 6.  Varus, or "The Song of Silenus."


My earliest (Muse) Thalia deigned to play with the verse of Syracuse (i.e. Sicily), nor did she blush to inhabit the woodlands; when I was singing of kings and battles, the Cynthian (god) (i.e. Apollo) plucked my ear and admonished (me): " A shepherd, Tityrus, ought to feed fat sheep, (but) utter a finely spun (lit. drawn out) song." Now shall I - for you will have (lit. there will be to you) in abundance (those) who wish to utter your praises, Varus, and to put  into verse gloomy wars - practice on my slender pipe my rustic Muse. I sing of things not unbidden. Yet if anyone, if anyone captured by love were to read this also, of you, (O) Varus, our tamarisks, of you all the forest would sing; nor is there anything more pleasing to Phoebus than that page which has the name of Varus written in front of itself.

Proceed, (O) Pierian (Maidens)! The boys, Chromis and Mnasyllos, saw Silenus lying asleep (lit. in sleep) in a cave, swollen in respect of his veins, as ever, by yesterday's wine (lit. Iacchus, i.e. Bacchus): his garlands lay close by, only (just) fallen from his head, and his heavy tankard hung (from his hand) by its well-known handle. Falling on (him) - for often the old man had kidded (them) both with the hope of a song - they throw upon (him) fetters (fashioned) from his very garlands. Aegle adds herself (as) a companion and reinforces (them) fearful (as they are), Aegle, the most beautiful of the Naiads, and now, (with him) opening his eyes (lit. seeing), she paints his brow and temples with blood-red mulberries. He, laughing at their ruse, says, "To what (end) are you twining these bonds? Release me, boys: it is enough (for you) that you seem to have been able (to capture me). Recognise the songs which you want. For you, (there will be) songs; for her there will be another (kind) of reward." At once, he himself begins. Then indeed you might have seen both Fauns and wild creatures dance (lit. play) to the measure (of his song), (and) then stiff oak-trees sway their tops: nor does the Parnassian rock rejoice so much in Phoebus, nor do Rhodope and Ismarus marvel so much at Orpheus (as they delighted in the song of Silenus). For he sang of how the first beginnings (lit. seeds) of earth and of air and of sea, and of liquid fire as well, had been collected through the mighty void: (and) how from these first (elements) all beginnings, and the young orb of the earth itself, have grown. Then, the ground began to harden and to pen Nereus into the sea, and, little by little, to take the forms of things; and now earth is amazed (to see how) the new sun is beginning to shine (as he mounts) higher, and (how) the rains fall from the clouds (which have been) raised aloft; (how) when the forests first begin to spring up; and (how) when, one by one, animals roam through the unknowing hills. Hence, he tells of the stones cast by Pyrrha, the reign of Saturn, and of the Caucasian birds and the theft of Prometheus. To these he adds, at what fountain the sailors had shouted for the abandoned Hylas, so that "Hylas! Hylas!" echoed from all of the shore; and he comforts Pasiphae, happy, if there had never been herds, with love for a snowy steer. Ah, unfortunate maiden, what frenzy has taken hold of you? The daughters of Proetus filled the fields with imaginary lowings, but yet not any of the herd pursued so shameful a union, although  she had feared the plough for her neck, and had often sought for horns on her smooth forehead. Ah, unfortunate maiden, you are wandering now in the hills: he, having rested his snowy flank on a soft hyacinth (bloom) beneath a dark holm-oak, chews the pale grasses. Or he pursues some (heifer) in the vast herd. "Close, (O) Nymphs, (O) Nymphs of Dicte, close now the glades of the forest, if by any (means) perhaps the wandering footsteps of the bull (lit. ox) may meet (lit. bring themselves in the way of) my eyes; perhaps some cows may lead him, either lured (lit. captured) by green grass or following the herds, to the stalls of Gortyn."  Then he sings of the girl marvelling at the apples of the Hesperides; then he surrounds the sisters of Phaethon with moss on bitter bark, and raises tall alders from the ground. Then he sings of Gallus, wandering by the streams of Permessus, and how one of the sisters led (him) to the Aonian hills, and how the whole chorus of Phoebus rose up to greet the hero; how Linus, a shepherd of godlike song, having been garlanded in respect of his hair with flowers and bitter parsley, said these things to him: "Look, take these reed-pipes (which) the Muses give to you, (and) which (they gave) before to the old man of Ascra (i.e. Hesiod) (and) with which he was wont to draw by his singing the stiff ash-trees down from the mountains. With these, let the beginning of the Grynean wood be told by you, so that there is not any grove, in which Apollo may pride himself more. Why should I tell of either Nisus' Scylla, whom report has followed that girt, in respect of her dazzling loins, with barking monsters, she harried the ships of Dulichium and ah! in her deep whirlpool tore the quaking sailors to pieces with her sea hounds: or how he told of the changed limbs of Tereus, of what a feast, of what gifts Philomela made ready for him, with what flight (lit. a run) she sought deserted places, and with what wings she first hovered, (O) unhappy one, over her home? He sings all (the songs) which the blessed Eurotas once heard from the brooding Apollo, and bade her laurels learn by heart, the smitten valleys relay (them) to the stars, until he bade (the shepherds) round up their sheep and drive the mass (of them) back to their to their folds, and the Evening Star came out in an unwilling heaven (lit. Olympus).ake a little rest

Ecloga 7.  Meliboeus, or "The Singing-match."


Meliboeus:  By chance, Daphnis had (just) sat down under a whispering holm-oak, and Corydon and Thyrsis had driven their flocks together into one (place), Thyrsis his sheep, and Corydon his she-goats, (their udders) swollen (lit. having been stretched) with milk, both in the flower of youth (lit. flourishing in their [young] age), both Arcadians, and equally ready to sing and to respond. Hither, while I was protecting my young myrtles from the cold, my he-goat, the lord of the flock, had strayed (lit. wandered down), and I espy Daphnis. When he sees me in turn, he says, "Quick, come hither, O Meliboeus! Your he-goat and kids (are) safe; and, if you can take a little break (lit. leave off for any [time]), rest under this shade. Hither will come your bullocks of their own accord through the meadows to drink; here the Mincio borders its green banks with soft rushes, and swarms (of bees) resound from the sacred oak." What was I to do? I had neither Alcippe nor Phyllis to shut in the lambs, (newly) weaned from milk, in their fold (lit. at home), and Corydon against (lit. with) Thyrsis was a great match. Yet I put aside my business (lit. serious affairs) for their pleasure (lit. play). So, both began to compete in alternate verses; the Muses willed (themselves) to recall alternate (verses). Corydon uttered these (verses), Thyrsis those in (due) order.

Corydon:  Nymphs of Libethrum, my delight, either grant to me such a song as my Codrus' own; he makes (poems) next to the verses of Phoebus; or, if we cannnot all (make such poems), this tuneful pipe will hang from your holy pine-tree.

Thyrsis:  Shepherds of Arcady, deck your rising poet with ivy, so that Codrus' sides (lit. loins) may be burst with envy; or, if he shall praise (me) beyond (what is) pleasing (to the gods), bind my brow with a fox-glove, lest an evil tongue may harm the future bard.

Corydon:  (O) Delian maid (i.e. Diana), young Micon (dedicates) to you this bristly boar's head and these branching antlers of a long-lived stag. If this (success) will be yours, your statue will be set up (lit. you will stand) all in smooth marble, having been bound, in respect of your calves, with purple buskins.

Thyrsis:  This bowl of milk and these cakes, Priapus, are enough for you to look for each year. Now we have fashioned you in marble to suit the time; but if breeding will make good the flock, be you golden.

Corydon:  My Galatea, daughter of Nereus (i.e. Sea Nymph), sweeter to me than Hyblaean thyme, brighter than swans, more lovely than pale ivy, when the pastured bulls first will seek again their stalls, if any care for your Corydon possesses you, come.

Thyrsis:  Nay, I may seem more bitter to you than Sardinian herbs, rougher than butcher's broom, cheaper than sea-weed cast up (on the beach), if this day (lit. day-light) is not already longer to me than a whole year. Go home, (you) pastured bullocks, if you have any shame (lit. if [there is] any shame [to you]), go.

Corydon:  (You) mossy springs and grass softer than sleep, and the green arbutus which covers you with chequered shade, ward off the (summer) solstice from my flock; now comes on parched summer, now the buds swell upon the pliant vine-shoot.

Thyrsis:  Here (is) the hearth and pine-logs rich (in resin), here (is) a big fire all the time and door-posts black with constant soot; here we heed the cold of the North Wind only as much as either the wolf (heeds) the number (of the flock) or rivers in flood (heed) their banks.

Corydon:  (Here) both junipers and prickly chestnuts stand; everywhere their own particular fruits lie strewn beneath the trees, (and) all things are smiling; but, if fair Alexis were absent, you would see even the rivers (running) dry.

Thyrsis:  The field is parched; the dying grass thirsts in the taint of the air; Liber (i.e. Bacchus) has begrudged the shade of the vine-tendrils to the slope: at the coming of our Phyllis, all the woodland will be green, and Jupiter will descend abundantly in genial rain.

Corydon:  The poplar is most delightful to Alcides (i.e. Hercules), the vine to Iacchus, the myrtle to the lovely Venus, his own laurel to Phoebus: Phyllis loves hazels: while Phyllis loves them, neither the myrtle nor the laurel of Phoebus will surpass hazels.

Thyrsis:  The ash is most the beautiful (tree) in the forest, the pine in the garden, the poplar by rivers, the fir in high mountains: but if, fair Lycidas, you come back to me more often, the ash in the forest (and) the pine in the garden must give way to you.

Meliboeus: These (lines) I recall, and Thyrsis striving for victory in vain. From that time Corydon is Corydon (i.e. peerless) to us.

Ecloga 8.  Pharmaceutria (i.e. the Enchantress), or "Damon and Alphesiboeus."


We shall tell of the Muse of Damon and of Alphesiboeus, the Muse of the shepherds, Damon and Alphesiboeus, at whom striving the amazed heifer is forgetful of grass, (and) at whose song the lynxes were stupefied, and the changed streams stopped flowing (lit. rested in respect of their current).

You, my (friend), whether you are now skirting the rocks of the great Timavus or passing by the the shores of the Illyrian sea, will that day ever come (lit. be) when I am allowed (lit. it is permitted to me) to tell of your deeds? Behold, will I be allowed (lit. will it be permitted [to me]) to spread abroad (lit. carry) throughout the whole world your songs (which) alone (are) worthy of the buskins (i.e. the tragic plays) of Sophocles? From you (was) my beginning, in your praise (lit. to you) (my poetry) will cease. Take the songs begun on your instructions, and let this ivy entwine (itself) among the victor's laurels around your temples.

The chill shadow had scarcely departed from the sky, when the dew on the tender grass (was) most delightful to the flock: Damon, leaning on a smooth olive(-staff) thus began.

Damon:  Arise (lit. be born), (O) Morning Star, and come anticipate the kindly day, while, beguiled by undeserving love, I complain about Nysa, my betrothed, and, although I have gained nothing by them (as) witnesses, yet in this my very last hour I call upon the gods.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus (i.e. Arcady). Maenalus always keeps both his tuneful forest and his speaking pine-trees; he always listens to the loves of shepherds and to Pan, who first did not permit the reeds (to be) idle.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Nysa marries (lit. is given [in marriage] to) Mopsus: what may we lovers not expect? Now griffins will mate with (lit. be joined to) horses, and in the age following timid deer will come to the drinking-trough (together) with hounds.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Cut fresh torches, Mopsus: your wife is being led to you; scatter nuts, bridegroom; for you the Evening Star is quitting Oeta.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus.(O woman) married to a worthy husband, while you despise everyone (else), and while my pipe and while my she-goats, and my shaggy eyebrows and my untrimmed beard (are) hateful to you, and you do not believe that any god cares about mortals.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. In our orchard, I saw you (as) a little girl with your mother - (for) I was your guide - picking apples wet with dew. The next (lit. second) year after my eleventh had just then received me; I could just reach the heavily laden (lit. fragile) branches from the ground. When I saw, how I perished, how the fatal error carried me off!

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Now I know what Love is. Either Tmaros or Rhodope or the remotest Garamantes (i.e. the Sahara) bring him forth, a boy not of our race nor with our blood.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Savage Love taught a mother to defile her hands in the blood of her children; (but) you too were cruel, (O) mother. (Was) the mother the more cruel, or that boy (the more) remorseless? That boy (was) remorseless; you too (were) cruel, (O) mother.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Now let the wolf even flee from the sheep spontaneously, let gnarled oaks bear golden apples, let the alder flower with narcissus, let screech-owls vie even with swans , let Tityrus be Orpheus, Orpheus in the woods, Arion among the dolphins.

Begin with me, my pipe, the verses of Maenalus. Yes, let the middle of the sea overwhelm (lit. become) all things. Farewell, (O) woods: from my watch-tower on the lofty mountain I shall plunge (lit. throw myself down) headlong into the waves; let her (i.e. Nysa) have this last gift from a dying man.

Damon (sang) these (words): you, (O) Pierian (Maidens), tell how Alphesiboeus responded; (for) we cannot all (do) all things.

Alphesiboeus:  Bring forth water, and bind these altars with soft woollen fillet, and burn in sacrifice sacred boughs rich (in resin) and manly frankincense, so that I may try to turn aside my lover's healthy senses; nothing is wanting here except incantations.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.

Songs may even draw down the Moon from heaven; with songs, Circe transformed the companions of Ulysses; by singing, the clammy snake is burst asunder in the meadows.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.


First I bind around you three times these separate threads of triple hue, and three times I lead your effigy around these altars;  a god delights in an odd number.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.


Twine the threefold colours in three knots, Amaryllis; only twine (them), Amaryllis, and say "I twine the chains of Venus."


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.

As this clay hardens and this wax softens in one and the same fire, so (let) Daphnis (fare) with my love. Scatter barley-meal and kindle the crackling bay-twigs with pitch. Heartless Daphnis burns me, (and) I burn this laurel in relation to Daphnis.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.

May such love (possess) Daphnis as (possesses) a heifer, when (she), weary with seeking a steer through forests and high groves, sinks down forlorn on green sedge near a river of water, nor does she remember to give way to late night, may such love possess (Daphnis), nor may I care to heal (it) (lit. nor may there be a care to me to heal [it]).


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.

That faithless one left me these former garments, dear pledges of himself: these I now entrust to you (O) earth on this very threshold; these pledges owe (me) Daphnis.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.

Moeris himself gave me these herbs and these poisons gathered in Pontus (i.e. Colchis, the home of Medea); in Pontus they grow thickest (lit. most); through these I (myself) have often seen Moeris become a wolf and conceal himself in the woods, (I have) often (seen him) summon up spirits from the deepest parts of their graves, and transplant sown harvests elsewhere.


Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home. 


Take the ashes outside, Amaryllis, and cast (them) over your shoulder (lit. across your head), nor (having done this) will you look back.  With these (ashes) I shall attack Daphnis; (but) he cares nothing for gods, nothing (for) songs.

Draw Daphnis from the town, my songs, draw (him) home.


The ash itself has caught the altar of its own accord with flickering flames, while I delay to take (it) away. may this bring (lit. be) good (luck)! It is something (lit. I know not what) certain, and Hylax is barking in the doorway. Can I believe (it)? Or, do (those) who love fashion dreams for themselves on their own account?

Forbear, he is coming from the town, forbear now, my songs, Daphnis (is coming).

Ecloga 9.  Moeris, or "The Road to Town."


Lycidas:  Whither are you going (lit. [do] your feet [lead] you), Moeris? Or, whither does the road lead, (is it) towards the town?

Moeris:  O Lycidas, have I lived to come (lit. have I come alive) (to such a point) that a stranger, (a thing) which I have never feared, (as) the occupier of my small farm should say, "These are mine; move off, old husbandmen." Now (we are) beaten (and) sad, since fortune turns everything upside down, (and) I am sending these kids to him - and may it not turn out well.

Lycidas:  Surely I indeed had heard that, where the hills begin to fall back (lit. withdraw themselves) and to lower their ridge with a gentle slope, as far as the water and those old beeches, now battered on top, your Menalcas had saved everything by his songs.

Moeris:  You had heard (it) and (such) was the rumour; but our songs prevail as much among weapons of war (lit. Mars) as they say that Chaonian doves (prevail) with an eagle approaching. Wherefore, if a raven from a hollow holm-oak on my left, had not warned me to break off by whatever (means)  this fresh dispute, neither your (friend) Moeris here, nor Menalcas himself, would (now) be alive.

Lycidas: Alas, can such great guilt belong to (lit. fall upon) anyone? Alas, were your soothing (songs) almost  taken from us together with you, Menalcas? (If you had died), who would sing of the Nymphs? Who would strew the ground with flowering plants, or cover over the fountains with green shade? Or, (who would sing) those songs (which) recently I picked up secretly from you, when you were betaking yourself to our darling Amaryllis? "Tityrus, until I return - the journey is short - put my she-goats out to graze, and drive (them), having been fed, to drink, and beware, during the driving, of running up against the he-goat - he strikes with his horn."

Moeris:  Nay rather, these which, not yet finished, he sang to Varus: Varus, (if) only our Mantua may remain, Mantua, alas, too near to poor Cremona, singing swans will bear your name on high to the stars.

Lycidas:  So may your swarms (of bees) escape the yew-trees of Cyrneus (i.e. Corsica), so may the udders of your cows, having fed on clover, be swollen (lit. stretch out): begin, if you have anything. The Pierian (Maidens) have made me a poet too. I even have songs (lit. there are even songs to me), (and) the shepherds call me a bard also; but I (am) not trustful of them. For I seem to utter as yet (something) worthy neither of Varius nor of Cinna, but to cackle (as) a goose among melodious swans.

Moeris:  Indeed I am busy with that, and I myself am quietly pondering within myself, Lycidas, if I can remember: nor is my song a mean (one). Come hither, O Galatea; what pleasure is there in the waves? Here spring (is) bright, here around the streams the ground pours forth manifold flowers, here a white poplar overhangs my cave, and the trailing vines weave a covering of shade: come here: let the mad waves lash the shore.

Lycidas:  What (of the song) which I heard you singing alone under a clear night? I remember the tune, if (only) I could retain the words.

Moeris:  "Daphnis, why do you look up at the ancient risings of the constellations? Lo, the star of Caesar,  (the child) of Dione (i.e. the mother of Venus, Caesar's ancestor) has advanced, the star through which the cornfields might rejoice in crops and the grape might take colour on sunny hills. Engraft your pear-trees, Daphnis; your grandchildren will (still) pluck your fruit." Time carries (away) everything (and) the mind too; often I remember that I (as a boy) brought sunny (days) to a close with singing: now so many songs are forgotten by me; now his very voice escapes Moeris too; the wolves saw Moeris first. But yet Menalcas will relate these very things to you often enough.

Lycidas: By making excuses you put off to a far (day) my eager longing. And now, mark you, all the sea, having been spread, is still, and all the breezes with their windy murmur have fallen away. Just here it is half way for us; for Bianor's tomb begins to appear: here, where farmers strip the dense foliage, here, Moeris, let us sing: here, put down your kids; however, we shall come to the town. Of if we fear lest night gathers rain beforehand, it is permitted (to us) to go singing all the way - (for so) the road is less wearisome; so that we may go singing, I shall  lighten you of this bundle.

Moeris:  Stop any more, boy, and let us do what is now pressing: when (the great man) himself (i.e. Menalcas) comes, we shall sing the better then.

Ecloga 10.  Gallus.

Grant to me this last task, (O) Arethusa. A few verses must (lit. are needing to) be said for my Gallus, but such as (lit. which) Lycorus herself may read: who would deny verses to Gallus? So for you, when you slide under the Sicanian (i.e. Sicilian) waters, may salty Doris (i.e. a Sea-Nymph) not intermingle her waves. Begin; let us speak of Gallus' troubled loves, while the snub-nosed she-goats nibble the tender bushes. We do not sing to the deaf; the forests will repeat everything.

What woods or what glades kept you, Naiad girls, when Gallus was perishing of unrequited (lit. unworthy ) love? For neither the ridges of Parnassus, nor any (ridges) of Pindus, nor (those) by Aonian Aganippe caused you delay. For him even laurels, even tamarisks wept; even pine-bearing Maenalus and the rocks of chilly Lycaeus wept for him lying under a lonely crag. The sheep stand around also - nor are they ashamed (lit.    nor does it repent them) of us: nor may you be ashamed (lit. nor may it repent you) of your flock, (O) divine poet; even the fair Adonis pastured his sheep by the river - the shepherd came too, the sluggish swine-herds came, (and) Menalcas came, wet from (gathering) winter acorns. All (of them) asked, "Whence is that love of yours?" Apollo came: "Why are you mad, Gallus? he says. "Your love Lycoris, amid the snows and the rugged camp, has followed another." Silvanus came too with his rustic ornament on his head, shaking his flowering fennels and large lilies. Pan, the god of Arcady came, who we ourselves saw (stained) red with the blood-coloured berries of elder and with vermilion. "Will there be any limit?" he says. "Love does not care for such things: nor is cruel Love satisfied with tears, nor grasses with streams, nor bees with clover, nor goats with foliage."

But he says sadly, "Yet, Arcadians, you will be singing of these things to your hills: Arcadians alone (are) skilled at singing. Oh, how softly then would my bones lie at rest, if your pipe may once tell of my loves! And would that I had been one of you, and either the shepherd of your flock or the vine-dresser of (your) ripe grapes! Surely, whether Phyllis or Amyntas or whoever was my passion - what then if Amyntas (be) swarthy? violets too are dark and hyacinths (are) dark - he (or she) would lie with me among the willows under a trailing vine: Phyllis would gather garlands for me, Amyntas would sing (to me). Here (there are) cool springs, here soft meadows, (O) Lycoris, here woodlands: here with you I should be worn away by time alone. Now a mad love for stern war (lit. Mars) detains me in arms amid encircling weapons and confronting enemies: you, far from your native-land - only let me not believe such a thing! (lit. let it not be mine to believe) - look upon, ah, cruel, the Alpine snows and the frosts of the Rhine alone without me. Ah, may the frosts not hurt you! Ah, may the harsh ice not cut the tender soles (of your feet)!

I shall go, and the songs, which were composed by me in Chalcidian verse, I shall set to the measure of the oaten(-pipe) of the Sicilian shepherd. I am resolved (lit. it is resolved [by me]), in the woods among the caves of wild beasts, to choose to suffer, and to cut my love(-songs) on the tender trees. Meanwhile, I shall roam over Maenalus in the company of the Nymphs (lit. the Nymphs intermingling), or I shall hunt the keen wild boar. No (lit. not any) frosts will deter (lit. forbid) me from encircling the Parthenian (i.e. Arcadian) glades with my hounds. Already I seem to myself to be traversing among rocks and echoing groves, (and) it pleases (me) to hurl Cydonian ( i.e. Cretan) arrows from a Parthian bow - as if that were a remedy for my madness, or that god could learn to soften at the sufferings of men! Now again, neither the Hamadryads (i.e. woodland Nymphs) nor even songs delight me; again even (you) woods depart! Our troubles cannot change him: neither, if in the midst of frosts we both could drink the Hebrus and endure the Sithonian (i.e. Thracian) snows in a watery winter, nor, if when the dying bark is parched on a lofty elm, we drive Ethiopian sheep under the tropical sun (lit. the constellation of Cancer). Love conquers all things: let us too yield to Love."

This will be enough, Pierian goddesses, that your poet has sung, while he sat and wove a basket of slim mallow (shoots): you will make this precious in the eyes of Gallus, of Gallus, for whom love grows in me every hour as fast (lit. much) as the green alder shoots up (lit. throws itself up from beneath) in a new spring. Let us arise! The shade is wont to be hard on singers, the shade of this juniper (is) hard, (and) shade harms the crops as well. Go home satisfied, the Evening Star is coming, go, my she-goats.