OVID: FASTI: BOOK IV: APRIL

Introduction:

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

In Book IV, Ovid continues his investigations into the religious ceremonies and festivals which marked the Roman calendar, and uses these explanations as an opportunity to recount a number of interesting and entertaining stories. The book begins with an invocation of Venus, to whom the month of April is sacred (ll. 1-18). Ovid then goes on to trace the genealogy of Romulus and the Roman kings, and ends this account with a celebration of Venus as the goddess of creation (ll. 19-132). The first long episode of the book concerns the Megalensia, the festival of Cybele or the Magna Mater: this section highlights the birth of Rhea's children, the castration of Attis, the transference of the goddess to Rome during the Hannibalic War, and the story of Claudia Quinta (ll. 179-375). The next long narration, and it is in fact the longest and most elaborate in the whole of the 'Fasti', concerns the Cerialia, the festival of Ceres, the Roman goddess of the crops. This account covers the rape of Persephone by her uncle Pluto, the desperate wanderings of Ceres in search of her daughter, her arrival in Eleusis and the events of Triptolemus' early childhood, Ceres' discovery of her daughter in Hades, Jupiter and the divided year, and the return of the harvest (ll. 393-620). The next extended section concerns the festival of the Parilia: this includes details of the rites sacred to Pales and their origin (ll. 721-806), Rome's birthday, the tale of the founding augury of Rome and the death of Remus and his funeral (ll. 807-862). The final sections include details of the wine festival, the Vinalia, together with accounts of the transference of the worship of Venus from Sicily to Rome, and of the death of Mezentius (ll. 863-900); and of the Robigalia, the festival designed to appease Robigo, the deity personifying mildew or blight (ll. 901-942).    


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

Proem (vv. 1-132). 

a. Invocation of Venus (vv. 1-18).

"Kindly mother of the twin Loves (i.e. Eros [Love] and Anteros [Love Returned]), favour (me)!" I said. She (i.e. Venus) turned her face back towards the poet (i.e. Ovid). "Why do you (have need) of me?" she says. "Surely you are singing of greater (themes). Surely you are not harbouring some ancient wound in that soft heart (of yours)?" "Goddess," I replied, "you know about my wound." She laughed, and immediately the sky became clear in her direction. "Wounded or well, have I ever deserted your standards? You are always) my theme, you (are) always my business. As was fitting, in my early years I played (about) quite innocently (i.e. Ovid is referring to his love poems); now a greater arena is being trampled by my steeds. I sing of the seasons and their causes, extracted from the ancient records, and of the star-signs (i.e. constellations) that have sunk beneath the earth and risen. I have reached the fourth month, in which you are well celebrated: as you know, Venus, both poet and month are yours." She stirred and lightly touched my brows with Cytherean myrtle (i.e.  Venus' favourite plant), and said, "Finish the work (you have) begun." I felt (it), and suddenly the days' causes were clear: while it can and the winds blow (i.e. while he still has the inspiration of Venus), let the ship sail on.

b. Venus and April (vv. 19-132).

But, if any part of the calendar should stir you, Caesar (i.e. Germanicus), you have in April (something) which you should protect: this month comes down to you through your great ancestral portrait (i.e. the waxen image of Venus) and becomes yours through your adopted nobility (i.e. Germanicus was adopted by his uncle Tiberius in 4 A.D. just after the latter had himself been adopted into the Julian family by Augustus). When our father, the son of Ilia (i.e. Romulus), set out the length of the year (in months), he saw this, and he, himself, identified your ancestors (i.e. Mars and Venus): and as he gave the first place in the line to Mars, because he was the immediate cause of him being born, so he wanted Venus, after she had been admitted into his family through many generations, to have the position of the second month; and, (while) searching for the origin of his race and the revolving centuries, he came eventually to his divine kinsmen.

(Who) does not know that Dardanus (was) the son of Atlas' daughter Electra, that Electra who had lain with Jupiter? From him (comes) Ericthonius, (and) from him Tros was born; he produces Assaracus, and Assaracus Capys; next (is) Anchises, with whom Venus did not scorn to have the shared name of parent; from them (was) born Aeneas; his piety (was) observed (as) he bore the sacred emblems and his father, (something) just as sacred, through the flames. Now at last we have come to the lucky name of Iülus, through whom the Julian house claims its Teucrian (i.e. Trojan) forebears. From him (comes) Postumus, who was called Silvius among the Latin race because he was born in the depths of the woods. And he is your father, Latinus; Alba succeeds Latinus; Epytus is the next to (hold) your title, Alba. He gave Capys a name derived from Troy, and he became your grandfather, Calpetus. And, when Tiberinus held his father's kingdom after him, he drowned, it is said, in a deep pool of the Tuscan river. But he had already (lived to) see his son Agrippa, and his grandson Remulus; they say that a thunderbolt struck Remulus. After then came Aventinus, from whom the district is named, and the hill too; after him the kingdom passed to Proca; Numitor follows him, the brother of harsh Amulius. Ilia and Lausus (are) the children of Numitor: Lausus falls by his uncle's sword; Ilia attracts Mars, and gives birth to you, Quirinus (i.e. Romulus) together with your twin Remus. He always said that Venus and Mars (were) his parents, and he deserved to have his word believed: and, so that future generations could not be unaware (of this), he gave successive months to his family's gods.

But I conjecture that the month of Venus (was) denoted in the Greek language; the goddess was called after the sea's foam (i.e. Aprilis, with its Greek root being 'ὁ ἀφρός,' foam). Nor should it be surprising to you that something was called by a Greek name; for the land of Italy was Greater Greece. Evander (i.e. the founder of the Arcadian colony on the Palatine Hill) had come (here) with a fleet full of his (people), the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) had come (here) - the club-bearing stranger fed his herd on Aventine grass, and this great god had a drink from the Albula (i.e. the name of the Tiber, until Tiberinus drowned in it) - ; the Neritian general (i.e. Ulysses, the epithet coming from Ithaca's Mount Neritus) came (here) too: the Laestrygonians (i.e. this tribe of cannibals was believed to have settled in Formiae in Campania) and the shore that still has Circe's name (i.e. the promontory of Circeii was thought to be identical with Circe's island of Aeaea), are witnesses (to this); and the walls of Telegonus (i.e. those of Tusculum, which it was believed had been founded by this son of Ulysses) and (those) of damp Tibur were already standing, because Argolic hands had built (them) (i.e. it was believed that a colony from Argos, led by Tiburnus, and his two brothers Catillus and Coras, had founded Tibur). Disturbed by the fate of the son of Atreus, Halaesus (i.e. the brother or nephew of Agamemnon, who had fled to Italy after the latter had been murdered on his return from Troy) had come (here), (he) from whom the land of the Falisci (i.e. the region around the city of Falerii) thinks it (was) named (i.e. Halaesus and Faliscus were considered to be commutable). Add (to them) Antenor, the advocate of Trojan peace, and the grandson of Oeneus (i.e. Diomedes), your son-in-law, Apulian Daunus (i.e. Diomedes married Daunus' daughter, Euippe). (Coming) late from the fires of Ilium, and after Antenor, Aeneas brought his gods into our region. One comrade of his was Solimus, from Phrygian Ida, from whom the walls of Sulmo take their name, cool Sulmo, my native town, Germanicus. Poor me! How far is that (place) from Scythian soil (i.e. Ovid's place of exile at Tomi, or Tomis, on the western shores of the Black Sea). So, how far away I (am) - but put a stop to your complaints, (O) Muse: you should not have sacred rites being sung with a grieving lyre.

Where does envy not go? Venus, there are (those) who would begrudge you the honour of your month, and snatch (it) away (from you). For, because spring now discloses everything, and the binding sharpness of the cold dies away, and the fertile soil becomes accessible, they say that April (is) named from the open (i.e. 'apertum') season, and that kindly Venus takes hold of (it) with her hand and lays claim to (it). Indeed, she most deservedly governs the the whole world; she has a realm not inferior to (that of) any god, she gives laws to heaven, and to the earth, and to her native waves (i.e. she was reputed to have been born from the foam of the sea around the isle of Cythera), and, through her appearances, she controls every species. She created all the deities - it would take (too) long to count (them) - she gave opportunities enough to the trees, she concentrated the crude minds of men on one (thing) (i.e. sex), and told each one to unite with his partner. What creates every species of bird but sheer pleasure? Nor would cattle mate, if easy love were absent. The ferocious ram locks horns with a (fellow-)ram, but he refrains from damaging the forehead of his favourite ewe; the bull, which all pastures and all groves dread, follows a heifer after shedding his ferocity; the same force preserves whatever lives beneath the broad sea's surface, and fills the waters with countless fish. It first stripped man of his wild habits: from it came refinement and a concern for his own elegance. They say that a lover (was) the first (to) spurn the night and sing a serenade, while awake, before barred doors; eloquence was (the means) to persuade a stubborn girl, and every man was fluent in his own cause. A thousand arts (were) set in motion through her; and, through the desire to please (i.e. sex-appeal), many (things) come to light which (have) previously (been) concealed. Does anyone (really) dare to rob her of the honoured title of the second month? Let such madness as this be far from my (thoughts)! Although (she is) powerful everywhere, and (is) worshipped in crowded temples, yet the goddess holds most sway in our city, (doesn't she)? Venus bore arms for your Troy, Roman, when she wailed because her tender hand had been wounded by a spear; and she defeated two goddesses (i.e. Hera and Athene) by means of a Trojan judge (i.e. this is a reference to the Judgment of Paris) - oh, (how) I wish that the vanquished goddesses had not remembered this - , and she was called the daughter-in-law of Assaracus (i.e. this is intended to mean the father of Anchises, although Assaracus is normally regarded as Anchises' grandfather), doubtless so that mighty Caesar would some day have Julian forebears (i.e. the descendants of Anchises' grandson Iülus). No (other) season was more suited to Venus than spring - in the spring the earth gleams, (and) in the spring the ground is soft; then the grass shoots its blades up through the broken soil, then the vine-shoot drives its buds through the swollen bark - , and lovely Venus is worthy of this beautiful season, and is joined, as usual, to her Mars.

April 1: Kalends: Veneralia: Fastus (vv. 133-164).


(Veneralia was the festival of Venus. In the public baths of Rome women bathed in the men's baths, wearing wreathes of myrtle. Especially honoured was the aspect of Venus, named Venus Verticordia, "The Changer of Hearts". It was, in general, a day for women to receive divine support and aid in their love lives.

It was also a day to honour Fortuna Virilis, who was somehow, but unclearly, connected with Venus; the jewelry was removed from her statue and ritually washed, and then she was offered sacrifices of flowers. Incense was also offered to the Goddess on this day, in order for women's physical imperfections to be hidden from view in the baths.)

You should tend the goddess with due care, Latin mothers and brides, and you who are without the headbands and long gown (i.e. prostitutes). Remove the golden necklaces from her marble neck, (and) remove her jewels: the goddess must be washed all over. When her neck has dried, return its golden necklaces: now fresh flowers and newly-bloomed roses should (also) be given (to her). She herself instructs that you too should be bathed beneath the green myrtle: and the reason why she orders (this) - learn (it now) - is (quite) clear. (While she was) naked on the shore, she was drying her dripping hair: a wanton crowd of satyrs espied the goddess. She noticed (them) and hid her body behind a screen of myrtle: having done (this), she was safe, and she tells you to do the same. Now, learn why you are offering Fortuna Virilis (i.e. Man's Fortune) incense there, in a place which is sodden with cooling water. That place takes in all (women), once they have removed their clothing, and takes a look at every blemish on their naked bodies; Fortuna Virilis offers to cover these and to hide (them) from men, and she does this having sought (only) a little incense. Do not be reluctant to take (her) poppies crushed in snow-white milk, and liquid honey squeezed from the honey-combs. As soon as Venus was brought to his home by her eager husband, she drank this; from that moment she was a bride. Appease her with the words of a suppliant: beauty, character and good repute remain in her (keeping). In the time of our forefathers Rome fell from grace: you ancients consulted the old woman of Cumae (i.e. the Sibylline Books: in 114 B.C. human sacrifices were ordered following the immoral behaviour of some Vestal Vigins). She orders a shrine to Venus to be built: it was duly built, and from that time Venus has the name "Heart-Changer". O most beautiful (one), always view the sons of Aeneas (i.e. the Romans) with a benign gaze, and protect your numerous daughters-in-law, (O) goddess.

While I am speaking, Scorpio, striking fear with the tip of his raised tail, plunges into the green waters (i.e. the morning setting of the constellation Scorpion).


April 2: Fastus (vv. 165-178).

When night has passed, and the sky has first begun to redden, and, touched by the dew, the birds are warbling, and, after being awake all night, the traveller puts down his half-burned torch, and the farmer is about to go to his usual tasks, the Pleiades (i.e. the Seven Sisters, the daughters of Atlas by the Naiad Pleione, who form a star cluster in the constellation of Taurus) will start to relieve their father's shoulders (i.e. by setting at dawn they reduce the weight of the heavens), (they) who are called the seven, but are usually six: (this is) either, because six of them have entered the embrace of the gods - for they say that Sterope lay with Mars, and Alcyone and you, lovely Celaeno, with Neptune, and Maia, and Electra, and Taÿgete with Jupiter, (but) the seventh, Merope, married you, Sisyphus, a mortal; she (soon) repents (of it), and hides alone from the shame of what (she has) done - , or because Electra could not bear to see the ruins of Troy (n.b. she was the mother of Dardanus, the founder of the Trojan race), and placed her hand before her eyes.

April 4: Megalensia: Ludi: Comitialis (vv. 179-372).

(The Megalensia, or Megalesia [from the Greek 'μεγάλη', great], is the festival of the Magna Mater, or Cybele, whose sacred black stone was brought to Rome from Pessinus in Phrygia on 4th April 204 B.C. in order to assist her in the war against Hannibal. The festival included games and theatrical performances, known as the Ludi Megalenses, which were instigated in 191 B.C. The celebrations lasted for a total of seven days, but particularly sumptuous feasts were held on the first day. The ceremonies were opened by the sacrifice of the 'moretum', a dish of herbs or salad, by either the praetor or an aedile. The 'galii', eunuch priests of Cybele, carried her image (bearing a crown) through the City to the sound of tambourines, flutes, horns, and cymbals. As they danced through the streets, they beat themselves bloody in an ecstatic ritual. Because of the alien nature of the cult of Cybele, only Phrygians could serve Cybele as her officiants, and indeed Roman citizens were forbidden to walk in the procession. The final day of the Megalensia saw the culmination of the Games: before the praetor signalled the start of the chariot races, there was a procession of golden statues of the gods around the Circus - winged Victoria, Neptune, Mars, Apollo, Minerva, Ceres, Bacchus, Castor and Pollux, and Venus.) 

Let the sky turn three times on its permanent axis, let Titan (i.e. the Sun) yoke and (then) unhitch his horses three times, the Berecynthian flute (i.e. one made from the boxwood of the trees of the Phrygian Mount Berecynthus) will straightway blow its curved horn, and the Idaean mother's feast (i.e. the feast of the Magna Mater) will begin. Eunuchs will parade and pound their hollow drums, and cymbal clashing with cymbal will give out their ringing (tones); She, herself, sitting on the soft necks of her acolytes, will ride with howls through the midst of the City's streets. The stage makes sounds, the games are calling: (so) watch, Quirites (i.e. Roman citizens), and let the litigious fora stand aloof from their wars.

I should like to ask many (things), but the shrill sound of the cymbal scares me, as does the curved flute with its dreadful drone. "Give (me), goddess, (someone) whom I may consult." Cybele saw her learned granddaughters (i.e. the Muses), and ordered them to address my concern. "Nurslings of Helicon (i.e. a mountain in Boeotia which was sacred to the Muses), be mindful of your orders (and) reveal why the Great Goddess should delight in this incessant din." So (I spoke). Erato (i.e. the Muse of Love Poetry)  - Cytherea's month fell to her, because she has the name of tender love - (replied) as follows: "This prophecy was reported to Saturn (by Heaven and Earth): '(O) noblest of kings, you will be driven from your throne by a son.' In his fear, he swallows his offspring as each one was born, and holds (them) immersed in his bowels. Rhea often complained that that she was so often pregnant, but never a mother, and she grieved at her own fertility. (Then) Jupiter was born - antiquity is trusted as a great (source of) evidence; forbear to disturb accepted belief - : a stone, concealed by cloth, settled in the god's gullet: so the father was deceived by the fates. For a long time steep Ida resounds with clanging noises, so the boy can cry through his infant's mouth in safety. Some thump shields with sticks, others empty helmets: the Curetes (i.e. armed attendants of the infant Jupiter, who danced around his golden cradle, clashing their spears and shouting to drown the sound of his wailing)  have this task, as do the Corybantes (i.e. spirits of nature, who were regarded as attendants of Cybele). The truth was hidden, and these ancient deeds remain the (subject of) imitation (i.e. the ecstatic and tumultuous nature of the worship of Cybele had its origins in the noisy dancing of these guardians of the young Jupiter): the goddess's attendants shake brass (instruments) and raucous hides. They beat cymbals instead of helmets (and) drums instead of shields: the flute plays Phrygian tunes, as it did long ago."

The goddess (i.e. Erato) finished speaking; I (i.e. Ovid) began: "Why does this fierce race of lions give their unaccustomed necks to her curved yoke?" I stopped (speaking); she started: "Their ferocity was tamed by her, it is thought; the proof of this lies in her chariot." But why is her head weighed down by a turreted crown? (Is it because) she gave towers to the first cities?" She nodded. "Where does the urge to cut off one's members come from?" I said. When I fell silent, the Piërid (i.e. Muse, the name coming from Mount Piërus, a mountain in Thessaly, sacred to the Muses) began to speak: "In the woods, the handsome-faced Phrygian boy Attis won the the turret-crowned goddess (i.e. Cybele) with his pure love; she wanted him to serve her (and) guard her temple, and she said (to him), 'See to it that you wish to be a boy forever.' To her commands he gave his word, and said, 'If I am speaking falsely, may that love through which I cheat be my last (one).' He did cheat, and in (meeting) the nymph Sagaritis, he ceased to be what he was (i.e. a male virgin): the anger of the goddess (i.e. Cybele) exacted a punishment from him. She destroys the Naiad by making wounds in a tree, (and) the (Naiad) dies; the tree represented the fate of the Naiad; he goes mad, and thinking that the roof of his bed-chamber is falling in, he flees, and, as he runs, he makes for the summit of (Mount) Dindymus (i.e. a mountain in Mysia sacred to Cybele); and now he cries "Away with the torches", "Remove the whips"; he frequently swears that the Palestine goddesses (i.e. the Furies, the name apparently coming from Palaestae, a town in Epirus adjacent to an entrance to the Underworld) are there (with him). He even mangled his body with a sharp stone and his long hair was trailed in the filthy dirt, and these were his words: 'I have deserved (this); I am paying the due penalty in blood. Ah, may the parts that have harmed me perish!' He was still saying,  'Ah, let them die,' (as) he removes the weight of his groin, and suddenly no signs of his manhood are left. This madness of his sets a precedent, and his unmanly servants toss their hair and cut off their unworthy organs." (So,) in such (words) had the cause of that madness, (into which I had) inquired, been explained by the eloquent voice of that Aeonian Camena (i.e. Erato: Camenae was the Latin name of the nymphs, whose spring ran through the sacred grove outside Rome's Porta Capena and was a water-source for the Vestal Virgins; the Romans commonly associated these nymphs with the Muses; they are  described as Aonian because the Muses' home in Greece was on Mount Helicon in Aonia, a district of Boeotia). 

"Advise (me) of this also, I beg (you), guide of my work, as I seek (to know the place) from where she came; or has she always been in our city?" "The Mother always loved Dindymus and Cybele (i.e. a third Phrygian mountain) and Ida, (so) pleasant with its springs, and the realms of Ilium: when Aeneas transported Troy to the fields of Italy, the goddess nearly followed the ships that carried the sacred relics (i.e. the Penates and the Eternal Fire), but she felt that her divine powers were not yet required by the Fates in Latium, and she stayed in her usual haunts. Later, when Rome, now strong in its powers, had seen five centuries and held up its head over a conquered world, the priest examines the fateful words of the Euboean song (i.e. a passage from the Sibylline Books, which were believed to have come from Cumae, a colony of Euboea); they say that what he found there was as follows: 'The Mother is absent: Roman, I command you to seek the Mother. When she comes, she must be received with chaste hands.' The Fathers are baffled by the riddles of this dark oracle, as to this parent may be and in what place she might be sought. Paean (i.e. Apollo in his capacity as God of Healing) is consulted, and he says, 'Fetch the Mother of the Gods; she can be found on Ida's summit.' Nobles are sent. At that time Attalus (i.e. Attalus I Soter, King of Pergamum 241-197 B.C.) was holding Phrygia's sceptre. he refuses the request of the men from Ausonia (i.e. Italy). I shall sing of marvels: the earth shook with long rumblings, and from her shrine the goddess spoke as follows: 'I, myself, wish to be fetched: let there be no delay; send (me) willingly: Rome (is) a worthy place for every god to go to.' Quaking with terror at the sound (of her voice), he (i.e. Attalus) said, 'Go! You will (still) be ours; Rome can be traced back to Phrygian (i.e. Trojan) ancestors.'

Forthwith, countless axes fell pine-trees, such as those which the pious Phrygian (i.e. Aeneas) had used for his escape. A thousand hands combine, and a hollow ship, painted with burnt colours, holds the Mother of the gods (i.e. Cybele). She is borne in complete safety over her son's (i.e. Neptune's) waters, and reaches the strait named after Phrixus' sister (i.e. the Hellespont), and spacious Rhoeteum and Sigeum's beaches, and Tenedos and the ancient realms of Eëtion (i.e. the father of Andromache, and the King of Thebes in the Troad). The Cyclades come next, after Lesbos has been left behind, and the waves that break on Carystos' shoals (i.e. the Euboean coast); she also passes the Icarian (Sea), where Icarus lost his wings as they melted, and gave his name to that vast (stretch) of water. Then she leaves Crete on her port side, and the waters of the Peloponnese to starboard, and makes for Cythera, sacred to Venus. From there (comes) the Trinacrian (i.e. Sicilian) sea, where Brontes, Steropes and Acmonides (i.e. the Cyclopean iron-masters who forge Jupiter's thunderbolts) are accustomed to dip their white(-hot) iron, and (then) she skirts the seas of Africa, and looks back at Sardinia's realm through the oars on her port side, and reaches Ausonia (i.e. Italy). She had arrived at the mouth, at the point where the Tiber splits itself as it meets the sea and flows with a wider surface: all the knights and the grave Senate, mingling with the common people, come to meet (her) at the mouth of the Tuscan river. Mothers, and daughters, and daughters-in-law walk in procession together, as do those who tend the sacred hearths in (a state of) virginity (i.e. the Vestal Virgins). The (crew)men strain their arms by pulling hard on the rigging: the foreign vessel can barely make its way through the opposing waters. The earth had long been dry, (and) drought had scorched the grass: the boat stuck fast, sunk in the muddy shallows (i.e. the water-level had dropped as a result of the drought). All those who are involved in the work take on what is more than their share, and they encourage their hard-pressed hands with the sound of their voices. The (ship) sits (there) motionless, like an island in the midst of the ocean; astounded by the portent, men stand and quake. Claudia Quinta traced her lineage back to noble Clausus (i.e. the legendary Attus Clausus, the Sabine chief who brought his family and clients to Rome shortly after the downfall of Tarquinius Superbus in 509 B.C. and was the founder of the famous patrician Claudian gens) - nor was her beauty unequal to her nobility - ; chaste (she was) indeed, but (this was) not believed: malicious gossip had damaged (her reputation), and she was indicted on a false charge. Her elegance and her display of various hairstyles went against (her), as did her ready tongue (when responding) to stiff old men. With a mind conscious of her rectitude, she laughed at the dishonesty of rumour, but (as) a mob we are prone to believe in the vice (of others). (Now,) when she had stepped from the ranks of chaste mothers, and had taken pure river water in her hands, she wets her head three times, and lifts her hands to the skies three times - all those who are watching her, they consider she is losing her mind. Bending her knee, she fixes her gaze on the goddess's statue, and, with her hair undone, she utters these words: 'Kindly and fruitful mother of the gods, accept these prayers of your suppliant on this (one) sure condition. I am said not to be chaste: if you condemn (me), I shall confess my guilt; (if I am) convicted by a goddess judge, I shall pay the penalty of death; but if the accusation is wrong, you will give my life a guarantee by your action, and chaste (things) will follow chaste hands.' (So) she spoke, and with a slight effort gave the rope a pull; I shall speak of marvels, but the stage has vouched (for them): the goddess is moved and follows her lead, and, in following, applauds (her); the sound of joy is raised to the stars (as) evidence.

They come to a bend in the river - their forefathers called (it) the Halls of Tiber - and from there it veers to the left. Night came: they tether the rope to the stump of an oak-tree, and their bodies, once they have been filled with food, they devote to a light sleep. Dawn came: they release the rope from the oak-tree's stump, but (only) after they had laid a fire and offered incense, and they had crowned the stern (with garlands, and) sacrificed a flawless heifer, ignorant of work and sexual union. There is a place, where the smooth-flowing Almo flows into the Tiber, and the lesser (stream) loses its name in that great river. There a grey-haired priest in a purple robe (i.e. the Archigallus or chief priest of Cybele) washed his mistress and her sacred (vessels) in the water of the Almo. Her attendants howl and the frantic flute is blown, and soft hands pound at the bull's hide (drums). The most honoured Claudia leads the way with a joyful face, her chastity finally demonstrated by the testimony of the goddess. (The goddess) herself, seated in a cart, is carried in through the Capene gate: her yoked oxen are strewn with fresh flowers. Nasica (i.e. Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica, who was to be consul in 191 B.C.) received (her); (the name of) the temple's founder did not survive: now (its promoter) is Augustus, before it was Metellus (i.e. probably Quintus Caecilius Metellus Numidicus, consul in 109 B.C. The temple of Cybele, originally dedicated in 191 B.C., was destroyed by fire in 111 B.C.) 

At this point Erato ceased (speaking). A pause occurs, in case I should ask anything else. "Tell (me)," I say. "Why does she request assistance in such small donations?" She says: "The people gave coppers with which Metellus built his shrine; ever since, the custom remains of giving small change." I ask why (people) arrange entertainments in alternation, and frequent special banquets more (often) at this time. "Since Berecynthia (i.e. Cybele) did well to change her home, they try to win the same good fortune by changing homes." I was about to ask why the Megalensian Games were the first in our city's (year), when the goddess - for she sensed (it was coming) - says, "She bore the gods: they deferred to their parent, and the Mother receives the first tribute to be given." So, why do we call (those) who castrate themselves "Galli", when the Gallic land is so distant from Phrygia?" She replies: "Between green Cybele and lofty Celaenae (i.e. a Phrygian mountain, from the summit of which the River Maeander rose) runs a stream with frightful water, named Gallus.  Whoever drinks from it goes mad: keep far away from it, (all you) who desire to have a sound mind: whoever drinks from it goes mad." "Are they not ashamed to have placed a salad of herbs on their mistress's table, " I said, "or is there some reason behind their (doing this)?" "The ancients are said to have lived on pure milk and herbs, whatever the earth produced of its own accord (e,g. parsley); white (i.e. cream) cheese is mixed with crushed herbs, so the ancient goddess may know the ancient food."

April 5: Nones: Ludi: Nefastus (vv. 373-376). 

(This day was sacred to Fortuna Publica, the "Luck of the People".)

When, the stars having vanished, the daughter of Pallas (i.e. Dawn) next gleams in the sky, and Luna has unhitched her snowy-white steeds, (he) who should say, "Long ago on this day (the temple of) Fortuna Publica was dedicated on the Quirinal Hill," will be right (i.e. the dedication occurred in 194 B.C.).

April 6: Ludi: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 377-386).

It was the third day of the games (I recall), and a certain elderly man, sitting in the place next to me as I was watching, declares, "This (is) the day on which Caesar crushed the treacherous army of great-hearted Juba on the Libyan shores (i.e. at the Battle of Munda in 46 B.C. when Julius Caesar defeated Juba, King of Mauretania, and the Pompeian forces led by Metellus Scipio). Caesar was my leader, under whom I was proud to have served (as) a tribune: he was responsible for my appointment. (I won) this seat through military service, you won (yours) by holding office on the Board of Ten Men (i.e. a ten-member panel charged with judging lawsuits)." As we were about to speak further, we are parted by a sudden shower: hanging (there), Libra shed heaven's waters (on us) (i.e. the morning setting of the constellation Libra was normally attended by rain).

April 9: Ludi: Nefastus (vv. 387-388).

But before the final day closes the shows, sword-bearing Orion will have sunk in the ocean (i.e. the constellation Orion sets in the evening on that day).

April 10: Ludi in Circo: Nefastus (vv. 389-392).

When Eos (i.e. Dawn) next gazes on victorious Rome, and the fleeing stars have given way to Phoebus (i.e. the Sun), the Circus will be thronged with a procession of numerous of gods. and the prize palm will be sought by horses as swift as the winds.

April 12: Cerialia: Ludi: Nefastus (vv. 393-620).

(See April 19th for information about the Cerialia.)

Next (come) the games of Ceres (i.e. the goddess of agriculture): there is no need to give the reason; the gift and bounty of the goddess are evident in themselves. The bread of the first men was green plants, which the earth produced without being asked; and, sometimes, he plucked the living grass from the turf, and, at other times, his food consisted of the tender leaves of the tree-tops. Soon after, acorns were found: now, with acorns having been discovered, (life) was good; the hardy oak-trees possessed a sumptuous wealth. Ceres was the first to summon man to a better diet by replacing acorns with a more nourishing food. She forces the bulls to offer their necks to the yoke: then, the ploughed earth first glimpsed the sun. Copper was prized, but the Chalybean ingot (i.e. iron, the name coming from the Chalybes, a people of the Black Sea, who were the first to manufacture it) was concealed: alas, it should have been hidden forever. Ceres delights in peace, and you, farmers, pray for perpetual peace and a peace-loving leader. You may give spelt and grains of salt in honour of the goddess and grains of incense on ancient hearths; and, if there is no incense, set alight your resinous torches: small (things) are pleasing to goodly Ceres, if only they are pure. Take your knives away from the ox, (you) girded attendants: an ox should plough; sacrifice a lazy sow (instead). a neck fit for the yoke should not be struck with a axe: and let (the ox) live and toil frequently on the hard ground.

(Now,) this topic requires (me) to relate the rape of a virgin: you will learn a few (things), (and) recollect more.

The land of Trinacria (i.e. Sicily) juts out with its three rocky promontories into the vast ocean, and its name (is) derived from its situation. (It is) Ceres' dear home: it has many cities, among which is fertile Enna (i.e. an ancient city in the centre of Sicily) with its cultivated soil. The fresh-faced Arethusa (i.e. a nymph originally from Elis who had fled to Sicily after being pursued by the Peloponnesian river god Alpheus) had summoned the mothers of the gods: the blonde goddess (i.e. Ceres, whose hair was the colour of ripe grain) had come to the sacred feast. Her daughter (i.e. Persephone) accompanied by girls, as was customary, rambled barefoot across her meadows. There is a place in a shady valley, drenched with much spray from a tower of falling water. As many colours as nature possesses were in that spot, and the earth shone with the hues of different flowers. As soon as she saw it, she said, "Come over here, my friends, and return with me with with our laps full of flowers." This useless booty entices their girlish spirits, and due to their keenness their toil is not felt. One of them fills baskets woven from pliant wicker, another her lap, (and) a third fills up the loose folds (in her dress). One picks marigolds, another has a desire for violets, a further one clips the heads of poppies with her nails; some you fascinate, hyacinth; others you cause to linger, amaranth; some love thyme, others wild-poppy and clover; many a rose is taken, and (many) flowers (that are) nameless: (she) herself gathers fine saffrons and white lilies. In her zeal for plucking (them), she gradually goes some way off, and, by chance, none of her companions follow their mistress. Her uncle (i.e. Pluto or Dis) sees her and swiftly carries off (what he has) seen, and bears (her) to his realm on his azure horses. She, it is true, cried out, "Oh, dearest mother, I am being abducted!", and she had ripped apart the folds (of her dress): meanwhile, a path is opened up for Dis, for his horses can scarcely endure the daylight, unaccustomed (to it as they are). But her similar-aged band of attendants, overloaded with flowers, cry out, "Persephone, come to (see) your gifts." When silence meets their cries, they fill the hills with their howls, and beat their bare breasts with their grieving hands. Ceres was startled by their grief - she had just arrived at Enna - , and she cried out, "(Oh,) how wretched I am! Where are you, my daughter?" She is swept along in a mindless state, like we are used to hearing that the Thracian Maenads (i.e. the ecstatic followers of Bacchus) run with their hair streaming. Just as its mother (i.e. a cow) bellows when her calf is ripped from her udder, and goes searching for her progeny through every wood, so the goddess does not hold back her groans, and, in a frantic state, she rushes about running, and she starts from your fields, Enna. There she found the prints of a girl's foot, and saw that the soil (had been) marked with her familiar traces; perhaps that day would have been the end of her wandering, if pigs had not muddied the tracks (she had) found. She had already raced past Leontini and the river Amenanas and your grassy banks, Acis: and she had passed (the spring) Cyane and the fountains of the calm Anapus and you, Gelas, (whose) whirlpools should not be entered. She had left Ortygia, and Megara, and the (river) Pantagias, and the place where the sea receives the waters of the Symaethus, and the caverns of the Cyclopes (i.e. beneath Mount Etna), scorched by the furnaces (they have) placed (there), and the place which has the name of a curved sickle (i.e. Zancle, the ancient name for Messana), and Himera, and Didyme, and Acragas and Tauromenium, and Mylae, that rich pasture for sacred cattle: next she reaches Camerina, and Thapsus and Helorian Tempe (i.e. the valley of the River Helorus, with its narrow wooded glens, is compared with that of Tempe in Thessaly), and where Eryx lies ever open to the West Wind. And now she has traversed Pelorias, and Lilybaeum, and now Pachynus, the horn-tips of her land: wherever she goes, she fills the whole place with her pitiful complaints, just like the bird when she laments her lost Itys (i.e. the swallow into which Procne had been transformed to save her from the fury of her husband Tereus, to whom she had served up their son Itys at a banquet in revenge for his rape of her sister Philomela). And she cries out in turn, now "Persephone!", now "Daughter!", and she shouts and invokes each name alternately. But neither does Persephone hear Ceres, nor (does) the daughter (hear) her mother, and (the sound of) each name dies away in turn; and (whether) she saw a shepherd or (a man) who ploughs the fields, there was (but) one question: "Has any girl come this way?" Now there is (only) one colour, and everything is concealed by darkness (and) now the watch-dogs have fallen silent: lofty Etna lies over the mouth of the huge Typhoeus (i.e. the Titan imprisoned by Jupiter beneath Mount Etna), and the earth is scorched by his fiery breath; there she sets alight twin pine (branches) as her lamp: and here now too a torch is offered at the sacred rites of Ceres. There is a cave, rough in its structure of corroded pumice-stone, a place which may not be entered by man or beast: as soon as she has come to it, she fixes bridles on her dragons and hitches (them) to her chariot, and (so) she roams the waters of the sea in a dry (state). She avoids the Syrtes (i.e. the treacherous sandbanks off the coast of North Africa) and you Zanclean Charybdis (i.e. the dangerous whirlpool on the Sicilian side of the Straits of Messina), and you, the dogs of Nisus' daughter (i.e. Scylla, the sea-monster, on the Italian side of the Straits), shipwrecking monsters (that you are), and the wide open Adriatic and  Corinth between two seas. So, she comes to your harbour, (O) land of Attica. Here at first she sat on a cold rock, overcome with grief: even now the people of Cecrops (i.e. the Athenians) call it 'Sad'. (There) she held out for many days, motionless under the (open) sky, enduring both the moon(light) and the rain water.

Every place has its own destiny: what is now called Ceres' Eleusis was then the estate of old Celeus. He is bringing home acorns and the blackberries (he had) picked from the bramble bushes, and (pieces of) dry wood to burn on the hearth. His little daughter was leading two nanny-goats from the hillside, and her young son lay sick in his cradle. "Mother," says the maiden - the goddess is moved by by the name 'mother' - "what are you doing (here), unaccompanied, in this desolate spot?" The old man paused too, although his load was a heavy (one), and begs (her) to accept the shelter of his cottage, insignificant as it may be. She declines - she had been impersonating an old woman and had covered her hair with a hat - ; when he pressed (her), she replied in the following words: "May you go in safety, and always (as) a parent; my daughter has been stolen (from me). Alas, how much better is your lot than my lot!" She spoke, and shining drops like tears - for it is not (the habit) of gods to weep - fall on to her warm breast. Both the virgin and the old man, soft-hearted (as they are), weep with her; of (the two of) them, these were the words of the trusty old man: "So, may your daughter, whom you are seeking, (as she has been) abducted, be safe and sound; (now), up you get, and do not scorn the shelter of my tiny cottage." (Then,) the goddess says to him, "Lead on (then); you (certainly) knew how you could persuade (me)," and she follows the old man. The leader (i.e. Celeus) told his companion how sick his son was, and that he could not get any sleep and was kept awake by his illness. As she is about to enter the small household, she gathers a delicate sleep-inducing poppy from the rustic soil. While she picks (it), she tasted (it), it is said, with a forgetful palate, and, unknowingly, put an end to her long fast; because she set aside her fast at the beginning of the night, initiates take their food at the time the stars appear. When she crossed the threshold, she sees that everything (is) full of lamentation, as there was now no hope of the boy's recovery. Greeting the mother - the mother is called Metanira - , she deigned to join the child's lips to her own. His pallor disappears and they see a sudden strength in his body: such vitality came from that celestial mouth. The whole house rejoiced, that is mother, and father, and daughter: those three constituted the whole house. Soon they set out a meal, curds in whey, apples, and golden honey on its honey-comb. Kindly Ceres abstains, and gives you poppy(-seeds) in warm milk to drink, boy, in order to induce sleep. It was midnight, and (there was) the silence of peaceful slumber: the (goddess) lifted Triptolemus (i.e. the name of Celeus' and Metanira's baby son) on to her lap, and stroked him with her hand three times and uttered three spells, not to be repeated by a human voice, and on the hearth she covers the boy's body with live embers, so the fire would purge his body of its burden of humanity. His foolishly dutiful mother awakes from sleep, and cries out in a frantic voice, "What are you doing?" and snatches his limbs from the fire. The goddess said to her, "While you are not sinful, you have acted sinfully: my gift has been thwarted by a mother's fear. He will, indeed, be mortal: but he will be the first to plough and sow, and to reap harvests from the tilled soil." (So) Ceres spoke, and, as she leaves, she trails a mist (behind her), and she goes across to her dragons and is lifted up in her chariot.

As she departs she leaves behind the exposed (cape of) Sunium, and the safe (harbour of) the Piraeus, and the coast which lies on the right-hand side; from there she enters the Aegean, where she views all the Cyclades, and she skirts the wild Ionian and Icarian (seas), and, (passing) through the cities of Asia, she heads for the lengthy Hellespont, and roams on high over (all) the different places on her course. For at one moment she espies the incense-gathering Arabs, and at another the Indians, and then Libya is beneath (her), and Meroë (i.e. a large city on the southern reaches of the Nile, in what is now Sudan) and the desert land; now she visits the western (rivers), the Rhine, the Rhone and the Po, and you, Tiber, the future parent of a powerful river. Where am I going? It is an enormous (task) to name (all) the lands (she) roamed: no place on earth escaped the notice of Ceres. She roams the heavens as well, and speaks to the constellations close to the chilly pole, (which are) free from the flowing ocean: (You,) Parrhasian (i.e. Arcadian) stars - for you can see everything, since you never sink beneath the waters of the sea (i.e. this refers to the stars of the constellation Ursa Major, which never set in the sky of the Northern Hemisphere, but revolve continually around the North Star) - , show her daughter Persephone to her wretched mother!" She finished speaking. Helice (i.e. another name for Ursa Major) replies to her in the following words: "The night is free of guilt; consult the Sun on the virgin's rape, for he has an extensive view of the day's deeds." Having been approached, the Sun says, "Lest you should be needlessly worried, (she) whom you seek (is) married to Jupiter's brother, (he) who is master of the third realm (i.e. Pluto, lord of the Underworld)." 

After grieving within herself for a long time, she addressed the Thunderer (i.e. Jupiter) thus - there were deep signs of sorrow on her face - : "If you recall through whom Proserpina (i.e. Persephone) was born to me, you ought to have a half(-share) of this anxiety (i.e. Jupiter was her father)." As I wander the world, only the outrage of his deed is known: the rapist keeps the rewards of his crime. Persephone did not deserve a bandit for a husband, nor should I have acquired a son-in-law in this manner. How more gravely could I have suffered (as) the captive of a victorious Gyges (i.e. one of the Hecatonchires) than I have suffered now with you holding the sceptre of the heavens? But let him go unpunished, I shall (have to) endure these (things) unavenged, if he should return her and correct his previous deeds with new (ones)." Jupiter calms her and excuses his action through his love, "Nor is he a son-in-law who could shame us," he says. "I (am) no nobler (than he is): my kingdom is set in the sky, another owns the waters (i.e. Neptune), (and) yet another the empty void (i.e. the Underworld). But, if your heart is really so fixed and is determined to break the bonds of marriage once joined, let us put her to this test, to see if she has actually maintained her fast; if not, she will continue to be the wife of her infernal spouse." The One who bears the Herald's staff (i.e. Mercury), took up his wings and visits Tartarus as ordered, and returns quicker than expected, and reports what he has clearly seen: "The ravished (girl)," he said, "broke her fast with three seeds which pomegranates conceal in their pliant rind."

Her sorrowful mother grieved as if she had just been raped, and it was a long time before she recovered just a little. And so she said, "Heaven is no home for me. Order that I, too, am received in the vale of Taenarus (i.e. a promontory to the south of Sparta, which was believed to be the location of the entrance to the Underworld)." And (so) it would have happened, if Jupiter had not agreed that she (i.e. Persephone/ Proserpina) could spend six months (of the year) in heaven. Then, at last, Ceres recovered her countenance and her spirits, and she placed garlands, consisting of ears of corn, in her hair. A bountiful harvest appeared in the tardy fields, and the threshing-floor could barely accommodate the heaped-up riches. White suits Ceres; put on white clothes for Ceres' Festival; on this day there is no use for dark-coloured wool.

April 13: Ides: Ludi: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 621-624).

Jupiter, under the title of Victor, takes possession of the Ides of April: a temple was dedicated to him on this day (i.e. by Quintus Fabius Maximus in 295 B.C., prior to the battle of Sentinum when he defeated a combined force of Samnites, Celts, and Etruscans). On this (day) too, unless I am deceived, Liberty began to occupy her hall, so worthy of our people (i.e. the Atrium Libertatis, in the vicinity of the Forum, which served as a public library in Ovid's time).

April 14: Ludi: Nefastus (vv. 625-628).

On the following day (you) sailors should seek safe harbours: (for) the wind from the west will be mixed with hail. Be that as it may, (it was) on this day, nevertheless, (that) Caesar smashed the forces of Mutina with the hail of his army (i.e. this refers to the battle of Mutina in 43 B.C, when Mark Antony was defeated by the army of the Roman consuls, who were assisted by Octavian).

April 15: Fordicidia: Ludi: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 629-676).

(The Festival of Fordicidia, or Fordicalia (from 'forda', a cow in calf) was sacred to the goddess Tellus, the Earth Mother, and was the occasion for what to modern eyes appears a particularly gruesome set of rites. Thirty-one pregnant cows, one for each of the City's 'curiae' (wards) plus one for the Capitol, were sacrificed and then their unborn calves were extracted and burned. By this means the fertility of the cattle was thought to pass to the earth itself. The ashes of the sacrificed calves were then taken by the Vestal Virgins for use in the festival of the Parilia later in the month. That the worship of Tellus was closely linked to the worship of Ceres is indicated by the fact that the date of the Fordicidia occurred in the midst of the eight days of the Cerialia.)

When the third day after the the Ides of (the month of) Venus dawns, (you) priests must offer up a brood cow in sacrifice. A brood cow is a cow that is bearing (a calf), and it is called fruitful from its bearing: they consider that the name 'fetus' (i.e. brood, produce) is derived from this (root). Now the herd is pregnant, and the earth is also impregnated with seed: a teeming victim is offered to a teeming earth. One is killed on Jupiter's citadel (i.e. the Capitol), and the wards receive thirty cows and are spattered and drenched in copious blood. But, when the attendants have torn the calves from (their mothers') wombs, and have delivered their sliced entrails to the smoking hearths, the Virgin, who is greatest in age, burns the calves in the fire, so that their ashes can purge people on the day of Pales (i.e. the festival of the Parilia on April 21st).

When, in the kingship of Numa (i.e. traditionally the second king of Rome, 715-673 B.C.), no harvest answered their toil, the prayers of the cheated farmers were in vain. For at one time (in) that year it was dry with chill northerly winds, and at another the land was flooded with incessant rain; often the crop failed at its first sprouting, and meagre wild oats stood out in the choked soil. And cattle gave birth to premature offspring before their time, and the lamb often killed the ewe by its birth. There stood an ancient wood, long untouched by the axe, left sacred to the god of Maenalus (i.e. a mountain range in Arcadia sacred to Pan): he (i.e. Pan) gave answers to calm minds on silent nights; here King Numa sacrifices twin ewes. The first falls to Faunus (i.e. the rustic god equated with Pan by the Romans), the second to gentle Sleep. Each of the two fleeces is spread on the hard ground. Twice his unshorn head is sprinkled with spring water, (and) twice he adorns his temples with beech leaves. He abstains from sex, nor is it lawful (for him) to put animal (flesh) on the table, nor is there a signet-ring on any of his fingers; covered by rough clothing, he lays his body on the top of the fresh fleeces, after praying to the god in his own words. Meanwhile, Night comes, her calm brow wreathed in poppies, and she brings black dreams with her; Faunus is present, and stamping on the ewes' fleeces with his hard hooves, he uttered the following words from the right-hand side of the bed: "(O) King, you must appease Earth with the death of two cows: let one heifer offer two lives in sacrifice." Sleep is excluded by terror: Numa ponders his vision, and recalls in his own mind the riddles and blind commands. His wife (i.e. Egeria), most dear to the grove, settles his doubts, and said, "You are asked for the entrails of a pregnant cow." The entrails of a pregnant cow are offered; the year grows more fertile, and land and cattle bear fruit.

Cytherea (i.e. Venus) once ordered this day to go past more quickly, and sank (the Sun's) galloping horses, and, as soon as the next day (came), his success in war gave the young Augustus the title of emperor (i.e. 16th April was the date on which Octavian, as Augustus then was, was hailed as 'imperator' for his part in the defeat of Mark Antony at Mutina in 43 B.C.).

April 17: Ludi: Nefastus (vv. 677-678).

But now Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) looks back at you for the fourth (time) since since the Ides have passed; on this night the Hyades will embrace Doris (i.e. the evening setting of a star-group within the constellation of Taurus; Doris, the daughter of Oceanus and wife of Nereus, is a personification of the sea). 

April 19: Cerialia: Ludi in Circo: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 679-712).

(The Cerealia was the celebration of the goddess Ceres, goddess of grain and cereal crops. It lasted for eight days, and like the Megalensia before it, the Cerealia culminated in a magnificent ceremony on its final day. Indeed, its climax involved chariot races, presided over by the plebeian aediles in white robes. One of the symbolic rituals of this final day was the release of foxes into the Circus Maximus with flaming brands attached to their tails. Ceres was notoriously a peaceful goddess, and most often accepted offerings of spelt cakes and salt, as well as incense on old hearths ['in veteres focos']. In the countryside, people offered milk, honey, and wine on the Cerealia, especially on the final day, after bearing them three times around the fields. The Cerealia was traditionally held most dear by members of the plebeian class, this association stemming from the struggle of the orders.)

When the third day has dawned after the departure of the Hyades, the Circus will keep the horses separated in their starting-stalls. So I must explain the reason why foxes (are) released bearing blazing torches on their backs. The land of Carseoli (is) cold and unfit for bearing olives, but its fields (are) suited for growing corn; through this (district) I was making for my native Paelignian countryside (i.e. Ovid was a native of Sulmo in the area where the Paeligni had settled, and Carseoli was midway between Rome and Sulmo), a small (territory it was) (i.e. Carseoli) but (one) always exposed to constant rain. I entered the house of an old friend as usual; Phoebus had already removed the yoke from his weary horses (i.e. the sun had set). That (friend) used to tell me many (things) indeed, but also this, on which my present work is based: "In this plain," he says - and he points at the plain - , "a thrifty country-woman and her hardy husband had a small (plot of) land. He worked his own land, whether it needed a plough, or a curved sickle, or a hoe; now she swept the house, which stood on timber piles, now she arranged for eggs to be kept warm under the feathers of the mother (hen), or she gathers green mallows or white mushrooms, or warms the humble hearth with welcome fire; and yet she keeps her hands constantly busy at the loom, and (so) prepares defences against the threat of cold (weather). She had a playful son in his early years, and he had added two years to a double lustrum (i.e. he was twelve years old). He caught a vixen in the depths of a grove of willows: she had carried off many birds from the farmyard. He wraps his captive in straw and hay and sets fire to (it all): she escapes his fiery hands: wherever she flees, she sets fire to fields clothed with crops; a breeze gave strength to the devouring flames. The deed has gone, (but) memorials remain; for a certain law of Carseoli now even forbids (one) to name a fox, and this species burns at the Cerialia as an atonement, and it perishes in the way in which it destroyed the crops.

April 20: Nefastus (vv. 713-720).

When Memnon's saffron(-robed) mother (i.e. Aurora) next comes to view the broad earth on her rosy steeds, the Sun abandons the leader of the woolly flock who betrayed Helle (i.e. Aries, the Ram): a greater victim is there in his path (i.e. the constellation of Taurus): its front is evident, (but) its hind-parts are hidden. But whether this star-sign is a bull (i.e. the bull which had carried Europa) or a heifer (i.e. the heifer into which Io had been transformed), it has its reward for love-making against the wishes of Juno.

April 21: Parilia: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 721-862).

(The Parilia was both an ancient agricultural festival sacred to Pales, a country goddess who protected flocks, and the birthday of Eternal Roma herself. The sheepfold was decorated with greenery and a wreath placed on its entrance. At first light the fold was scrubbed and swept, and the sheep themselves were cleansed with sulphur smoke. A fire was made of olive and pine wood, into which laurel branches were thrown; their crackling was seen as a good omen. Offerings were made of cakes of millet, amongst other foods, and pails of milk. A prayer was then said to Pales four times (while facing east), seeking prosperity for the shepherd and his flocks, forgiveness for unintentional transgressions against Pales, and the warding off of wolves and disease. The shepherd then washed his hands in dew. Both milk and wine were heated and drunk, and then the shepherd, and possibly his flocks as well, leapt through a bonfire. The official ceremony was conducted by the Rex Sacrorum; the blood from the calves sacrificed at the Fordicidia was thrown into the bonfire before the leaping took place, as well as the blood sacrificed from the horse at the Equus in October.)

Night has gone, Aurora (i.e. Dawn) is rising: I am called (to sing of) the Parilia; I am not called in vain, if kindly Pales assists (me). Kindly Pales, favour my singing your pastoral rites, if I honour your festival with my service. Indeed, I have often brought the ashes of a calf and bean stalks in my full hands as pious offerings for purification. Indeed, I have jumped over the flames, arranged, (as they are,) in three rows, and the wet laurel has soaked (me) in its dewy waters. The goddess is moved, and blesses this work, my ship leaves dock, my sails already have their winds. Go, people, (and) seek fumigation from the Virgin's altar, Vesta will grant (it), (and) it will be cleansed by the Virgin's gift. The fumigants will be horse blood and calf ash, (and) the third thing (will be) a hard bean's empty stalk. Shepherd, purify your fully fed sheep at the beginning of twilight: first let water moisten the ground, and a broom sweep (it); let the sheep-pens be decorated with the leaves and boughs (that are) fixed (to them, and let a trailing garland adorn and cover the entrance. Let dark-blue smoke be made from pure sulphur, and let the sheep bleat when they come into contact with the smoking sulphur. Burn male olive-trees, and pine, and Sabine plants (i.e. a kind of juniper), and let laurel burn and crackle in the centre of the hearth; and let a basket of millet follow the cakes of millet. The rural goddess (i.e. Pales) particularly enjoyed that food. Add her own food and a milk-pail, and, after cutting up the food, offer prayers to Pales with warm milk. Say, "Take care of the sheep and the masters of the sheep alike: let (all) harm be driven to escape from my folds. If I have grazed (my flock) on sacred (ground), if I have sat under a sacred tree, and my sheep have unwittingly gathered their food from graves, if I have entered  a forbidden wood, and the nymphs and the half-goat god (i.e. Faunus) have fled at the sight of me, if my knife has deprived the grove of a shady bough, so that a basket of leaves can be given to an ailing ewe, grant your pardon for any offence: nor should it be held against (me) that I sheltered my flock in a rural shrine, while there was a hailstorm. Nor should I come to harm for troubling the pools: forgive (me), nymphs, because trampling hooves have made your waters muddy. (O) goddess, (please) placate, on our behalf, the springs and the spirits of the springs, (and placate) the gods dispersed through every grove. Let us not gaze on Dryads (i.e. wood-nymphs) and Diana's bathing places (i.e. alluding to the fate of Actaeon, who perished because he caught sight of Diana bathing), and Faunus as he lies in the fields at midday (i.e. alluding to the practice of Arcadian shepherds refraining from playing their pipes lest they disturb Pan, while he takes his midday nap). Drive diseases far away; let men and their herds be healthy, and let that vigilant pack of watch-dogs be healthy too. May I never drive back much less (sheep) than there were in the morning, nor groan as I bring back fleeces torn by a wolf. May excessive hunger be averted: may there be plenty of grass and leaves, and water which can wash the body and be drunk. May I squeeze full udders and may my cheese bring me money, and may my thin wicker (sieves) give a passage to the liquid whey; and let the ram be lustful, and may his pregnant partner reproduce his seed, and may there be many a lamb in my fold; and may wool be produced without scratching any girls, soft and as fit as you like for tender hands. May what I pray for come about, and let us make every year huge cakes for Pales, mistress of the shepherds."

The goddess must be appeased with words such as these: say these (words) four times facing east, and wash your hands in fresh dew. Then you are permitted to set up a wooden vessel as a mixing bowl, (and) you may drink white milk and purple must (i.e. fresh wine, concentrated by boiling); later, you can project your restless limbs from your speedy feet over burning heaps of crackling straw.

The custom has been explained; (but) the origin of this custom remains for me (to tell): a mass (of reasons) causes (me) doubt, and holds me back from making a start. Consuming fire purges everything, and melts any flaws in the metal: (is it) for that reason that it purges the sheep and their shepherd? Or (is it) because the contrary seeds of all things are fire and water, two discordant gods, (and) our ancestors joined these elements, and thought fit to touch their bodies with fire and sprinkled water? Or do they think these two (things) important because the cause of life is in them: an exile has lost them (i.e. an 'interdictio aqua et igni' is pronounced against him), (and) a new wife is made by them (i.e. a Roman bride had to touch fire and water as soon as she reached the threshold of her husband's house). I can scarcely believe (it): there are (some) who consider that it refers to Phaethon (i.e. son of Helios, who when he lost control of his father's chariot, was killed by Jupiter, in order that the world should not be consumed by fire) and to the flood waters of Deucalion (i.e. a survivor of the Great Flood). Some also say that, when shepherds were pounding rock upon rock, a spark suddenly leapt out: the first (one) died of course, but a second (one was) caught in the straw: does the flame of the Parilia have this (as) its basis? Or rather did Aeneas' piety cause this custom, when fire offered (him) a safe passage in defeat? But is it now nearer to the truth that, when Rome was founded, the Lares (i.e. the household gods) (were) ordered to move to a new house, and that, as they changed their homes, the farmers placed fires beneath their rustic hovels and the cottages (that were) about to be abandoned, (and then) leapt through the flames, and their flocks leapt (through them) as well. (This is something) which happens even now on your birthday, Rome.

Chance, itself, creates the subject for a poet: the birth of the City has come; be present for your deeds, great Quirinus (i.e. Romulus). Numitor's brother (i.e. Amulius) had already paid the penalty (for his misdeeds), and the whole throng of shepherds were under the leadership of the twins (i.e. Romulus and Remus); it is agreed by both of them to gather the peasants together and build the walls, (but) there is an argument about which of the two should build the walls. "There is no need for any dispute," said Romulus. "There is great trust in birds: let us try the birds." The matter is settled: one of them (i.e, Romulus) goes on to the wooded rocks of the Palatine, the other (i.e. Remus) goes up on to the summit of the Aventine. Remus sees six birds, the other twelve; the agreement stands firm, and Romulus has control of the city. A suitable day is chosen, on which to mark out the walls with a plough: the sacred festival of Pales was imminent; the work was initiated then. A deep ditch is dug, the fruits (of the harvest) are thrown into its depths, and earth is sought from the ground nearby; the ditch is filled with soil, and an altar is placed on (it when it is) complete, and, when the fire has been lit, the new hearth performs its function. Then, gripping the plough's handle, he (i.e. Romulus) marks out the walls with a furrow; a white cow, together with a snow-white ox, bore the the yoke. These were the words of the king: "Jupiter, father Mavors, and mother Vesta, be here with me as I found the city, and may you take note, all (you) gods, whom it is pious to summon: let this work of mine arise in the light of your auspices. May it have a long life, and dominion over the conquered earth, and may east and west be subject to its power." (As) he prayed, Jupiter delivered omens with thunder on the left, and thunderbolts hurled from the left of the sky (i.e. for the Romans, unlike the Greeks, the left was the auspicious side).

Delighted by this augury, the citizens lay the foundations, and in a short time there was a new wall. Celer (i.e. the Speedy One), whom Romulus himself had named, pushes the work forward, and he had said (to him), "These are your duties, Celer, that no one should cross either our walls or the ditch (we have) dug with a ploughshare; if (anyone) dares (to do) such (things), put him to death! Unaware of this, Remus began to mock the lowly walls, and to say, "Will the people be safe behind these?" At once, he leapt over (them): Celer hits the rash (man) with a spade; he thumps the hard ground, gushing blood. When the king learned of this, he swallows the tears welling up inside (him), and keeps the wound locked within his breast. He does not wish to weep publicly, and he sets an example of fortitude, and he says, "Such (will be the fate of) any enemy who shall cross my walls!" Yet he grants (him) funeral rites; he no longer manages to restrain his tears, and the love he had sought to hide is evident. he pressed final kisses on the bier (as it is) lowered, and says, "Farewell, brother, taken from (me) against my will" (i.e. an allusion to Catullus' famous farewell to his brother), and he anoints the body for cremation; Faustulus and Acca (i.e. the shepherd and his wife, who rescued Romulus and Remus, and then reared them), her hair loosened in grief, did what he (did). Then, the not yet named Quirites (i.e. Roman citizens did not receive that name until after their union with the Sabines) wept for the young man; finally, flames were put under the lamented pyre.

A city rises - who then could have believed any of it? - , destined to plant its foot upon (all) lands. May you rule all (things), and may you ever be subject to mighty Caesar, and may you often possess many of that name, and, as long as you stand sublime in a conquered world, let everything fall beneath your shoulders. 

April 23: Vinalia: Fastus (vv. 863-900).

(This, the Vinalia Prioria, was the first of two festivals of wine [the second, called the Vinalia Rustica, being held on 19th Sextilis).  This holiday was sacred to both Jupiter and Venus. On this day the first jars of wine from the previous year were offered to Jupiter; only then could they be sampled by men.)

I have spoken of Pales: I shall speak of the Vinalia (i.e. a wine festival likewise dedicated to Jupiter and Venus). But (only) one day comes between the two. (You) street girls, celebrate Venus' divinity: Venus is very suited to the earnings of professional (women). When you have given incense, request beauty and public favour; request seductive charm and suitably humorous words; give your mistress pleasing mint and her own (special) myrtle, and wicker baskets covered with clustered roses. Now it is right that that her temple near the Colline Gate should be packed, and, when Claudius took Arethusan Syracuse by force of arms (i.e. it was captured by Marcus Claudius Marcellus in 212 B.C.), and also made you a captive in war, Eryx (i.e. a town and mountain on the north-west coast of Sicily, near Drepanum), Venus was transferred by the song of the long-lived Sibyl (i.e. the Sibylline Books), and chose to be worshipped in the city of her progeny (i.e. Rome, the city of the descendants of her son, Aeneas, where two temples to Venus Erycina were built, one on the Capitol, after the conquest of Eryx in 212 B.C., and the one near the Colline Gate in 181 B.C.).

So, why, you ask, do they call the Vinalia a festival of Venus, and why is this the day of Jupiter? There was a war (to see whether) Turnus or Aeneas should become the son-in-law of Latin Amata (i.e. the wife of Latinus, King of Laurentum, and mother of Lavinia): Turnus begged for Etruscan help. Mezentius was renowned and ferocious when he took up his arms, and he was mighty on horseback, and mightier (still) on foot; the Rutuli and Turnus try to win him over to their side. The Tuscan leader replies to their request as follows: "My valour comes to me at no small (cost): I call to witness my wounds and my weapons, which are (so) often spattered with my blood. If you seek my help, you must share with me, (as) a small reward, the next fresh vintage from your vats. There is no need to delay: it is yours to give, (and) mine to conquer. How Aeneas would want me to refuse this request (of yours)!" The Rutulians agreed. Mezentius dons his armour; Aeneas dons (his armour too) and addresses Jupiter: "The enemy's vintage is vowed to the Tuscan king: Jupiter, you shall have the fresh wine from the Latin vines." The better vow prevails: huge Mezentius falls, and strikes the ground with an indignant heart. Autumn had come, soiled by its trodden grapes: the wine that is due is delivered to Jupiter, as he deserved. Hence, the day is called the Vinalia; Jupiter asserts his claim to it, and rejoices that it should be among his feasts. 

April 25: Robigalia: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 901-942).

(The festival of the Robigalia is celebrated to appease the god Robigus (or perhaps the goddess Robigo), who was the deity of wheat-rust, mildew, and blight. The gender of this deity was uncertain: Ovid considered it was female. It was an ancient festival of the agricultural calendar, and was celebrated by the Flamen Quirinalis, perhaps because of Quirinus' association with the Roman grain supply. Both sheep and a red dog are sacrificed to Robigus, along with wine and incense; prayers were then spoken to protect the crops. There was some connection with the star Sirius, but this is unclear. Verminus, a god who protected cattle against worm disease, might also be honoured on this day.)

When April will have six days days remaining, spring-time will be in mid-course, and you will searh in vain for the Ram of Athmas' daughter Helle (i.e. the constellation Aries), and the rains give their sign, and the Dog(-Star) (i.e. Sirius) rises. On this day, when I was returning to Rome from Nomentum (i.e. a town in Sabine country about 14 miles north-east of Rome), a crowd, (clad in) white, obstructed me in the middle of the street: a priest (i.e, the Flamen Quirinalis) was going to the grove of old Robigo (i.e. Mildew) to offer the entrails of a dog and of a sheep to the flames. At once, I joined (him), lest I should be unaware of the rite: your priest, Quirinus, uttered these words: "Scaly Robigo, spare the blades of corn, and let their tender tips quiver on the surface of the soil. Let the crops grow, nurtured by a favourable sky, until they become ready for the scythe. Your power is not slight: that corn, that you blight, the sorrowing farmer regards as lost; neither wind nor rain has harmed the corn as much, nor, even when bleached by the marble frost, does it turn so pale, as when Titan (i.e. the Sun) heats the sodden stalks: then, dread goddess, is the occasion for your wrath. Spare (us), I pray, and keep your rough hands from the harvest, and do not harm the crops; the power to harm is enough. Grip not the tender corn, but hard steel, and destroy first whatever can destroy others. (It is) better that you destroy swords and harmful spears. There is no need for them: the world is at peace. Now, let the riches of the countryside gleam: rakes, the hard hoe, and the curved ploughshare. Let rust (another meaning of 'robigo') stain our weapons, and, whoever tries to draw his sword from its sheath, let him feel (how) stuck it is through long disuse. Do not violate the corn, and may the farmer always be able to fulfil his pledges in your absence."

He (i.e. the Flamen Quirinalis) finished speaking: in his right-hand there was a towel with loose fringes, and a casket of incense and a bowl of wine. On the hearth, he offered incense, and wine, and the entrails of a sheep, and the vile guts of a filthy dog - we saw (them). Then the priest says to me, "You ask why a strange victim is offered? Know the reason. There is a dog - they call (it) the Icarian - and, when its star rises, the parched earth thirsts and the crops ripen prematurely: this dog is placed on the altar instead of the Dog-Star, and there is no reason why this should be other than the name.

April 28: Floralia: Ludi: Nefastus Publicus (vv. 943-954).

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

When Tithonia (i.e. Aurora, the wife of Tithonus) has left Phrygian Assaracus' brother (i.e. Tithonus), and has raised her light over the vast world, a goddess comes wreathed in various garlands of countless flowers; the stage enjoys the practice of more liberal mirth. The rites of Flora also extend to the Kalends of May: then I shall resume (my song); (but) now a grander task urges me on. Vesta, grasp hold of the day! Vesta was welcomed at her kinsman's doorstep (i.e. at Augustus' house on the Palatine); so the just Fathers (i.e. the Senate) had decreed. Phoebus has a part: another part went to Vesta: he himself occupies the third part that is left of it. Long live the laurels of the Palatine, and long may the house crowned in oak-leaves endure (n.b. in 27 B.C. the Senate and People awarded the laurels and crown of oak-leaves to Augustus): one (house) holds these three eternal gods.