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 II, 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 opens with an introductory dedication to Augustus (ll. 1-18), and an account of the origin of the month's name, arising from the purification ceremonies known as 'februa' (ll. 19-46). The main highlights of the Book are as follows: Arion's escape from pirates on the back of a dolphin (ll. 83-118); how the deeds of Augustus have surpassed those of Romulus (ll. 119-144); Jupiter's rape of Callisto, who is metamorphosed into a bear by an angry Juno, and then transported into the sky as the constellation Ursa Major (ll. 155-192); the Fabii and the Etruscans at Cremera (ll. 193-242); the festival of the 'Lupercalia' and its origins, including Faunus' failed rape of Omphale, and the spectacular fertility rites practised by the 'Luperci' (ll. 267-452); the festival of the 'Quirinalia', and the apotheosis of Romulus (ll. 475-512); and the festival of the 'Refugium', which celebrated the downfall of the monarchy, and the rape of Lucretia that led to it (ll. 685-852).
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. 1-54).
a. Dedication to Augustus (ll. 1-18).
Janus (i.e. January) has his end. And the year grows with my song: as the second month (advances), so let the second book (do so too). Now for the first time, my elegiac (metres), you travel with greater sails: of late I recall that you were (but) a minor work. I, myself, had you (as) willing servants in my love (poetry) (i.e. his 'Amores', 'Heroides', 'Ars Amatoria' and 'Remedia Amoris', all written in elegiac couplets), when my early youth toyed with its verses. (Now) I sing of sacred rites and dates marked in the 'Fasti' (i.e. the calendar): would anyone have thought that the road from there led to this? This (i.e. celebrating festivals) is my military service; we bear the arms we can (hold), and my right hand is not devoid of every function. If no javelins are hurled by my mighty arm, nor do they lie upon the back of a war-horse, and I wear no helmet, nor am I girt with a sword - any man can be handy with these weapons - , yet I honour your names, Caesar (i.e. Augustus), and progress through your titles. So, be present, and look upon my gifts for a while with a kindly gaze, if you have any (time) free from having to pacify foes.
b. The origin of the name of February (ll. 19-34).
Rome's fathers called purifications 'februa': even now many indications give that meaning to the word. The priests ask the king(-priest) (i.e. the 'Rex Sacrorum') and the flamen (i.e. the 'Flamen Dialis', the High-Priest of Jupiter) for wool, the name for which in the language of the ancients was 'februa'; the roasted spelt and grains (of salt) (i.e. the 'Mola Salsa'), which the lictor takes when he is cleansing a certain house (i.e. the home of the 'Flamen Dialis'), are called (by) the same (name); the same name (too is given) to the branch, which, cut from a tree, covers the holy temples of the priests with its foliage. I, myself, have seen the 'Flaminica' (i.e. the wife of the 'Flamen Dialis', when she was officiating) asking (the attendants) for 'februa'; a pine-twig was given to the one asking for 'februa'. In short, anything there is, by which our bodies can be purified, had this name in the time of our bearded forebears. The month (is) called by this (name) because the Luperci (i.e. the priests of Lupercus, divided into the three colleges of the Fabii, the Quinctilii and the Julii) scour the whole ground with strips of hide (i.e. goatskin), and they regard it (as a means of) atonement; or (it is) because, when the tombs have been placated, the time is pure, as soon as the days of the dead (i.e. the Festival of the Dead from the 13th to the 21st February) have passed.
c. Purifications (ll. 35-54).
Our ancestors believed that such purgation could erase every sin and every cause of evil. Greece gave (us) the beginning of this custom: she considers that the guilty can set aside impious acts by being purified. Peleus (i.e. King of Thessalian Phthia and father of Achilles) (absolved) the grandson of Actor (i.e. Patroclus), and Acastus (i.e. king of Iolchus) absolved Peleus himself as well from the death of Phocus by means of the waters of Haemonia (i.e. Thessaly); after she had been drawn through the void by bridled serpents, the trusting Aegeus (i.e. King of Athens and father of Theseus) entrusted the Phasian (woman) (i.e. Medea, the epithet being derived from the Phasis, the river of her homeland, Colchis) with a power (that she did) not deserve; the son of Amphiaraüs (i.e. Alcmaeon) said to Naupactian (i.e. Aetolian) Acheloüs (i.e. a river god, whose waters separated Acarnania and Aetolia), "Absolve my sin," (i.e. he had killed his mother Eriphyle in revenge for the death of his father) and he did absolve his sin. Ah! (you,) who thinks that the dismal crimes of murder can be washed away by river water, are just too gullible! But yet - lest you err through ignorance of the old system (i.e. the pre-Julian calendar) - , although the first month belongs to Janus, and did (so) previously, (the one) which follows Janus was (once) the year's final (month). You also, Terminus (i.e. the god of property, boundaries and frontiers), were the end of the sacred rites (i.e. the feast of the 'Terminalia' occurred on 23rd February). For the month of Janus (came) first, because the door is first: (the month) which was sacred to the latest shades of the dead was the last. Now the Decemvirs (i.e. the priestly college of the 'Decemviri Sacris Faciundis') are believed to have joined these months (i.e. January and February), separated by (such) a long space of time.
February 1: Kalends: Nefastus (ll. 55-72).
At the start of the month, it is said that Sospita (i.e. a designation of Juno, meaning 'Saviour') bordering the Phrygian Mother (of the Gods) (i.e. Cybele), was honoured with new shrines (n.b. a temple to Sospita was constructed on the Palatine Hill, near that of Cybele). Where now are the temples, which were dedicated on those Kalends? They have collapsed due to the passing of time. That the rest should not similarly fall shaken in ruins, the prescient care of our sacred leader (i.e. Augustus) guarantees, and under his (rule) no old age is being experienced by our shrines; it is not enough (for him) to bind up men: he binds up gods (as well). (O) builder of temples, (O) holy rebuilder of temples, I pray that there may be a mutual concern between you and the gods. May the gods grant you the years which (you grant) to them, and may they keep guard before your house. On this day too the nearby grove of Alernus is crowded, (at the place) where an alien Tiber seeks the waters of the ocean. At the sanctuary of Numa (i.e. the temple of Vesta, in the atrium of which Numa resided) and that of the Capitoline Thunderer, and on the summit of Jupiter's citadel, a sheep is sacrificed. Often (on this day), the sky, covered with clouds, rouses heavy rains, or the earth lies hidden under a fall of snow.
February 2: Nefastus (ll. 73-78).
When Titan (i.e. the Sun) next unhitches the jewelled yoke from his radiant steeds, as he is about to sink into Hesperia's (i.e. the Western) waves, on that night someone will say, as he raises his gaze to the stars, "Where is that Lyra today that sparkled (so brightly) yesterday?" And, while he searches for Lyra, he will also notice that the intervening Lion's back (has) suddenly sunk into the flowing waters.
February 3: Nefastus (ll. 79-118).
The Dolphin that you just saw studded with stars, he will escape your gaze on the following night; he was either a lucky go-between in furtive love, or he carried the Lesbian lyre and its master. What land does not know of Arion, what sea has not become acquainted (with him)? He held back the running waters by his singing? Often, a wolf, (while) pursuing a lamb, was halted by his voice; often the lamb stopped, (while) fleeing the ravenous wolf; often hounds and hares lay down in the same covert, and a deer stood on a rock next to a lion, and the chattering crow perched peacefully with Pallas' bird (i.e. an owl). Cynthia (i.e. Diana), it is said, often swooned at your notes, (O) tuneful Arion, as if they were her brother's (i.e. Apollo's).
Arion's name had filled the cities of Sicily, and he had captivated the shores of Ausonia (i.e. Italy) with this sounds; returning home from there (i.e. from Tarentum), Arion boarded a ship, and so carried (with him all) the riches (which he had) acquired through his art. Unlucky (man), perhaps you feared the winds and the waves: but the sea was safer for you than your ship. For the helmsman stood (there) with drawn sword, and the rest of the guilty crew had arms at hand. "What are you doing with a sword?" (cries the poet). "Such weapons should not be held in your fingers!" Trembling with fear, he says, "I do not seek to avoid death, but do let me take up my lyre and play a little." They give their permission, and deride any delay: the takes up a garland, which can suit your hair (too), Phoebus; he put on his robe, twice dyed in Tyrian purple: plucked by his thumb, the string gave out its own sounds, like a swan sings in mournful strains, when his white temples have been pierced by a cruel arrow. At once, he (i.e. Arion) leaps fully dressed into the midst of the waves; the azure stern is slashed by the displaced water. Then - (it is) beyond belief! - they say that a dolphin subjected itself to a novel load on its curved back. Sitting (there) and holding his lute, he sings the price of his passage, and soothes the ocean waves with his song. The gods look out for dutiful deeds: Jupiter received the dolphin among the constellations, and ordained that it should have nine stars.
February 5: Nones: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 119-148).
Now, I wish for a thousand tongues, and for myself to be in your heart, (O you) native of Maeonia (i.e. Homer), by whom Achilles is commemorated, while I sing the sacred Nones in alternating verses (i.e. the hexameters and pentameters of elegiac couplets). The highest honour is heaped upon the 'fasti' (i.e. the calendar). My genius deserts me and (the subjects that) are pressing (me) exceed my strength. I must sing of this day in a special voice. Why did I (so) foolishly wish to lay so great a weight upon elegiac (verses)? (Surely) this was a subject for the heroic foot (i.e. hexameters, or epic verse)!
Holy father of our country, the senate and the people have conferred thus title (i.e. 'Augustus') on you, and we, the knights (i.e. Ovid was a member of the equestrian order), have conferred this title on you (too). Yet, events have granted (it) previously: also you have received your true names late, (and) you were father of the world a long time ago. You have on earth the name that Jupiter (has) in high heaven: you (are) father of men, he of the gods. Concede, Romulus: he makes your walls mighty by his care, (whereas) Remus could jump over (the ones) you left. Tatius (i.e. the king of the Sabines), tiny Cures (i.e. Tatius' home town) and Caenina (i.e. a city captured by Romulus during the Sabine War) knew of you; under this leader (the views from) both sides of the sun are Roman; you possessed a little scrap of conquered land, Caesar possesses whatever is beneath high Jupiter. You rape brides (i.e. the episode known as the rape of the Sabine Women), as leader he orders them to be chaste; you harboured (criminals) in your grove (i.e. Romulus populated his new city with criminals, to whom he offered a sanctuary within his 'grove' of the Capitoline Hill) he has repelled sin; force was pleasing to you, under Caesar laws thrive; you have the title 'master', he has that of 'first man'; Remus accuses you (of cruelty), he gave a pardon to his enemies. Your father (i.e. Mars) made you a god (i.e. when he was given the name 'Quirinus'), (whereas) he has deified his father (i.e. Julius Caesar).
Already Ida's boy (i.e.4 Ganymede, the Cup-Bearer of the Gods, sometimes identified with the constellation of Aquarius, the Water-Bearer, whose morning rising is featured here) emerges as far as the middle of his belly, and pours (for the gods) clear water with nectar intermingled (with it). Look also, if anyone used to dread the North Wind, let him rejoice: a softer breeze is coming from the West.
February 10: Nefastus (ll. 149-152).
Five days later, Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) has raised his bright light from the ocean waves, and the first days of spring are (here). But do not be deceived, cold (weather) is (still) in store for you, (yes, it is still) in store (for you), and departing winter has left behind ample traces.
February 12: Nefastus (ll. 153-192).
Let the third night come: You will see straightaway that the Bear-Keeper (n.b. these lines commemorate the evening rising of the constellation known to the Greeks as Arctophylax, 'The Bear-Keeper', or Boötes, the 'Ox-Herder') has revealed both his feet. Callisto was once a member of the sacred band, among (whom were) the Hamadryads (i.e. the Wood Nymphs) and Diana. Touching the goddess's bow, she says, "(You) bow, which I am touching, be a witness to my virginity." Cynthia (i.e. Diana in her capacity as moon goddess) praised (her), and said, "Keep the pledge (you have) promised, and you will be the first among my companions." She would have kept her pledge, if she had not been (so) beautiful: she shuns mortals, (but) commits a sin with Jupiter. Phoebe (i.e. Diana) was returning (home) after she had hunted countless wild beasts in the forests, as the sun either passes or has attained mid-day; when she reached a grove - a grove dark with dense holm-oak, (and) at its centre there was a deep fountain of cool water - , she says, "Tegean (i.e. Arcadian) virgin, let us bathe here in the wood"; she blushed at the false sound of 'virgin'. She (i.e. Diana) had also spoken to the nymphs. The nymphs lay aside their clothes. She (i.e. Callisto) is ashamed and gives suspicious signs of tardy delay. She took off her dress: she is clearly betrayed by the evidence of the weight in her swollen womb. The goddess said to her, "Oath-breaking daughter of Lycaon (i.e. a king of primitive Arcadia, whom Jupiter, angered at his cannibalistic practices, had turned into a wolf), leave this band of virgins, and do not pollute these pure waters!"
The moon with its horns had completed a fresh cycle ten times: (she) who had been thought a virgin, became a mother. The wounded Juno rages, and changes the girl's shape. Why do you do this? (She had) permitted Jupiter (to ravish her) with an unwilling heart. (But,) when she saw the shameful face of a wild beast on her rival's face, she said, "May you go to embrace her (now), Jupiter." She, who had recently been loved by supreme Jupiter, roamed the scrubby hill-sides (as) a shaggy bear. The boy, who had been secretly conceived (i.e. Arcas), was now aged fifteen (years), when the mother came face-to-face with her son. She, indeed, reared up frantically and growled, as if she knew (him): growls were his mother's (only) mode of speech. The boy, unaware (of who she was), would have pierced her with his sharp spear, if they had not both been caught up into the heavenly mansions. They shine (as) neighbouring constellations: the former is (the one) which we call "Arctos" (i.e. 'the Bear', known to astronomers as 'Ursa Major'), (and) "Arctophylax" (i.e. 'the Bear-Keeper') takes his shape behind the back of (the one) he follows. (But) Saturn's daughter (i.e. Juno) is still angry, and asks white Tethys (i.e. the waters of the sea, over whom Tethys reigns as the consort of Oceanus, and in which the sun sets) not to touch or to wash the Maenalian (i.e. Arcadian) Bear with her waters (n.b. as a result 'Ursa Major' moves around the North Star and never sets).
February 13: Ides: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 193-242).
The altars of rustic Faunus smoke on the Ides, at the place where the island splits the divided waters (i.e. the Temple of Faunus on the island of the Tiber was dedicated on the Ides of February 193 B.C.). This was the day, on which three hundred and six of the Fabii fell to the weapons of Veii (i.e this happened in 477 B.C.). One household had undertaken the burden of defending the city: the family's hands take up arms (as they had) promised. The noble soldiers march out from the same camp, (and) anyone of them was fit to be their leader. The quickest way is through the right arch of the Carmental gate: whoever you are, do not go through it; it is unlucky. Tradition has it that the three hundred Fabii went out that (way): the gate is free of blame, but it is still unlucky. When, by marching swiftly, they reached the rushing Cremera (i.e. a stream which flowed past Veii en route to the Tiber) - it was flowing in a disturbed manner due to the winter rains - , they pitched their camp at a (suitable) place (i.e. on the banks of the stream). They draw their swords and bravely fight their way through the Tyrrhenian (i.e. Etruscan or Tuscan) ranks, just like when lions of a Libyan breed attack the herds (which are) scattered across the wide fields. The enemy flee, and receive dishonourable wounds in their backs: the earth reddens with Tuscan blood. So they fall again (and again), and frequently; when open victory is denied (them), they plan ambushes (for the Tuscans) and conceal their weapons.
There was a plain; hills and a forest fit to hide mountain beasts enclosed the the end of the plain. In its centre they (i.e. the Veientes) leave a (few) men with a scattering of cattle, and the rest of their band lies hidden in the thickets. Look, just as a torrent, swollen by rain water or by snow, which melts after being overcome by the warm West Wind, is borne across the cornfields and over the roads, and does not, as was usual before, enclose and confine its waters by the edge of its banks. So the Fabii, widely dispersed, fill the valley and flatten whatever they see, and there is no other fear in (them). Where are you rushing to, (you) noble house? You are wrong to trust the foe: gullible nobility, beware of treacherous spears! Valour is destroyed by deceit: the enemy leaps out into the open plain from all sides, and occupies every flank.What can a few brave (men) do against so many thousands? Or what support is there (for them), or what (help) is left (to them) in (such a) wretched situation? As a wild boar, driven far from the woods by barking, scatters the speedy dogs with his thunderous snout, but he is soon killed, so they do not die unavenged, but inflict and receive wounds in turn. A single day had dispatched all the Fabii to war, (and) a single day destroyed (all those) sent to war. Yet, it is possible to believe that the gods, themselves, decided that the seeds of the race of Hercules (i.e. the Fabii claimed they were descended from Hercules) should survive: for a boy, underage and still unable (to bear) arms, was the (only) one left of (all) the Fabian family, no doubt so that you could one day be born, Maximus (i.e. Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus Cunctator, appointed dictator during the Hannibalic War), by whose delaying (tactics) the state might be restored. (n.b. Ovid's favourable presentation of the deeds of the Fabii no doubt reflects the fact that the influential nobleman Paullus Fabius Maximus, who died in 14 A.D., was probably his most powerful patron.)
February 14: Nefastus (ll. 243-266).
Three constellations lie close together in (one) region: Corvus (i.e. the Raven), Anguis (i.e. the Snake, more correctly Hydra, the Water-Snake), and Crater (i.e. the Mixing Bowl) in the middle between the two of them. On the Ides they lie hidden, (but) they rise on the following night. I shall tell you in song why these three are so closely linked together. Phoebus happened to be preparing a solemn feast for Jupiter - this tale of mine will not cause (you) any long delay: "Go, my bird," he said, "so that nothing delays the sacred rites, and bring a little water from the running springs." The raven lifts the gilded bowl in its curved feet (i.e. its claws), and flies high in the air on its way. There stood a fig-tree, very thick with fruit (that was) still unripe: he tries it with his beak, (but) it was not fit to be picked; forgetting his orders, it is said that he perched on the tree, while the fruit became sweet during this slow period of delay. Now sated, he seizes a long water-snake in his black talons, and returns to his master and says these lying words: "This (snake was) the cause of my delay, as it blocked the running water: it held back (both) the fountain and my task." "Do you add lies to your fault," says Phoebus, "and do you dare to try to deceive the god of prophecy with words? Now, until succulent figs hang on the tree, you will drink no cool water from the spring." (So) he spoke, and (as) a permanent memorial of this ancient deed, Anguis, bird, (and) Crater gleam (as) joint constellations.
February 15: Lupercalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 267-474).
(The Lupercalia was a celebration sacred to Faunus. On it, the Luperci priests sacrifice goats and a dog, as well as sacred cakes. Afterwards, two young nobles are smeared with the sacrificial blood, and the Luperci don the hides of goats and run through the streets, striking female passers-by with strips of goatskin in order to promote fertility.)
The third dawn after the Ides sees the naked Luperci, and the sacred rites of the two-horned Faunus (i.e Pan, as Faunus had no horns) are held. Tell (me), daughters of Pierus (i.e. the Muses), what is the origin of these sacred rites, and from where have they come in their search for a home. The ancient Arcadians are said to have worshipped Pan, the god of the flock; he frequents the Arcadian heights. Pholoë (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia) will be a witness (to this), and so will the Stymphalian waters, (i.e. Stymphalia was the name of a lake, beside a town of the same name, in Arcadia) and Ladon (i.e. an Arcadian river), which runs with its fast-flowing waters into the sea, and so will the ridges of the Nonacrian grove (i.e. Nonacris was the name of a town and mountain in Arcadia), ringed (as they are) with pine-trees, and lofty Tricrene (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia), and the Parrhasian (i.e. Parrhasia was the name of a tribe and a town in Arcadia) snows. There (i.e. in Arcadia) Pan was the god of cattle, (and) Pan (was the god) of mares, and he received an offering for keeping the sheep safe. Evander brought his woodland gods with him: the place where our city now stands was then (just) the sight of a city. So we worship the gods and perform the sacred rites conveyed (here) by the Pelasgians (i.e. Evander's Arcadians): the flamen Dialis (i.e. the High Priest of Jupiter) the enacted these (rites) in their ancient form.
So, why, you ask, do they (i.e. the Luperci) run, and why - (for) it is their custom to run in this manner - do they bear their bodies naked and stripped of their clothes? The god (i.e. Faunus), himself, likes to run swiftly across the top of the mountains, and he, himself, understands (the need for) sudden flight: the god, himself, (is) naked, and orders his attendants to go naked; nor are clothes at all suitable for running. Before Jupiter was born, they say that the Arcadians occupied the earth, and that their race was older than the moon. Their life (was) similar to beasts, lived for no benefit: the common people were uncultivated and still without any skills. They made use of leaves to (build) houses, and grass to (plant) crops; water, scooped up in the palms of their two (hands), was nectar (to them). No bull was panting beneath a curved ploughshare, (and) no (piece of) soil was under the control of a farmer: no horse was yet being employed; everyone carried himself: sheep went about, their bodies clothed in their own wool. They were inured to Jupiter's (sky) (i.e. the open air) and they bore their bodies naked, having learned to endure heavy rain and southern winds. Even now, the unclothed (priests) bring back memories of ancient custom, and testify to the old conditions (i.e. the want of wealth).
But. as to why Faunus especially shuns clothing, a story full of ancient humour, is handed down. I happened that the young man from Tiryns (i.e. Hercules) was strolling about (as) the companion of his mistress (i.e. Omphale, queen of Lydia, to whom he had been sold by Mercury): Faunus saw (them) both from a high ridge, he saw and burned (with desire), and he said, "Mountain deities, I have no further need of your (company): she will be my passion." The Maeonian (woman) (i.e. the Lydian Omphale) walked with her scented hair streaming over her shoulders, (and) distinguished by her gilded robe. Her golden parasol kept off the warm rays of the sun, and, indeed, the hands of Hercules held it up (over her). Now, she reached the grove of Bacchus and the vineyard of Tmolus (i.e. the husband of Omphale and King of Lydia, killed by Diana as a punishment for ravishing one of her attendants), while dewy Hesperus (i.e. the Evening Star) rode his dusky steed. She enters the cave, roofed with tufa and natural rock; in front of the entrance there was a babbling brook. And, while her attendants were preparing a banquet and wine to drink, she dressed the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) in her own garments. She gives (him) a dainty frock, dyed in Gaetulian (i.e. African) purple, and she gives (him) an elegant girdle, with which she was recently girt (herself). The girdle is smaller than his belly; he stretches the arm-holes of the frock, so that he can insert his huge hands. He shattered her arm-bands, not made for arms such as those, and his enormous feet split open her tiny sandals. She, herself, takes both his heavy club and his lion-skin, and the smaller arrows (which are) lodged in their quiver. So, they took part in the feast, and so they gave their bodies to sleep, and lay apart in beds placed side by side. The reason (for this abstinence): because they were preparing for the sacred rites of the inventor of the vine (i.e. Bacchus), which they would conduct in a pure manner, when the day had arisen.
It was the middle of the night. What does unruly lust not dare (to do)? Faunus comes to the cave: and, when he sees her companions overcome by sleep and wine, he has the hope that the same sleep has (come) upon their masters. The reckless adulterer enters and roams up and down, and he holds out wary hands before (him), and (then) follows (them). In his hunt for (them), he came to the couches (on which) the beds (were) spread, and he had been lucky in his first act of fate; (but,) when he touched the pelt of the tawny lion, prickly with bristles (as it was), he panicked and checked his hand, and, struck with fear, he recoiled, as a traveller often withdraws his foot (i.e steps back), (when) startled by the sight of a snake. Then, he touches the soft coverings of the couch which was nearby, and is misled by its deceptive feel. He pulls himself up, and reclines on the nearer (side) of the bed, and his swollen cock was harder than horn: and then he pulls up the dress from the bottom of its hem: coarse legs were bristling with thick hairs. Suddenly, the Tirynthian hero (i.e. Hercules) forestalled (him from) trying anything else: down he falls from the top of the bed. There is a noise, (and) the Maeonian (woman) (i.e. Omphale) calls her companions and asks for lights: torches are brought, and his actions become clear. He groans, having fallen heavily from the lofty bed, and he can barely lift his limbs from the hard ground. The grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) laughs, as do (all) who saw (him) lying (there), and the young woman from Lydia (i.e. Omphale) (also) laughs at her lover. (As he had been) fooled by clothing, the god (i.e Faunus) dislikes clothes, and summons (people to come) to his rites naked.
Add a Latin (i.e. Roman) reason (i.e. for the nakedness of the Luperci), my Muse, to the foreign (ones) (i.e. the imitation of Pan/Faunus; commemoration of the original state of man in Arcadia; and Faunus' dislike of clothing, following his failed attempt to seduce Omphale), and let my horse career around in its own dust. A goat (was) duly slaughtered (in sacrifice) to horn-footed Faunus, (and) a crowd arrived, having been summoned to the meagre feast. And, while the priests prepare the entrails, having skewered (them) on willow spits, and the sun is holding to the middle of its course, Romulus and his brother, and the young shepherd boys display their naked bodies on the sunlit plain. By (pitching) the bar, and (throwing) the javelin, and casting the heavy stone (i.e. putting the shot), they put their arms to the test through sporting (contests): (then) a shepherd from the heights shouted, "Romulus and Remus, thieves are driving our bullocks across out of the way countryside." (Too) long a (time) would have been (needed for them) to put on their armour: the two of them leave in different directions, and, after the (robbers') meeting with Remus, the plunder (was) recovered. When he returned, he drew the hissing entrails from the spits, and said, "For sure, no one but the victor shall eat these." He does (as he) said, and the Fabii join him. Romulus returns unsuccessful, and sees the bare tables and bones. He laughed, and felt sorry that the Fabii and Remus could have conquered, (and) his own Quintilii could not. The nature of the deed survives: they run (i.e. the Luperci) without clothes, and what turned out (so) well enjoys a lasting fame.
Perhaps you ask why that place should be (called) the Lupercal, or what reason should mark the day with such a name (i.e. the Lupercalia). The Vestal Silvia had brought heavenly seeds to birth, (while) her uncle (i.e. Amulius) was holding the throne; he orders that the infant boys should be removed and drowned in the river. What (on earth) are you doing, (uncle)? One of these will be Romulus. Reluctant servants fulfil their lamentable instructions, but they weep, and take the twins to a solitary spot. The Albula, to which Tiberinus (i.e. a king of Alba Longa) has given his name, after he was drowned in its waters, happened to be swollen by winter rainfall: here, where the fora (i.e. the Forum Romanum, the Forum Julium, and the Forum Augustum) now are, and (there) where your valley (now) lies, Circus Maximus, you could see boats bobbing up and down. When they had arrived at this place - for they could go any further - , one or the other says: "But, how alike they are! And how beautiful each one of them is! Yet, of the two of them, this (one) (i.e. Romulus) has the more vigour. If your lineage is shown in your features, unless the image is false, I suspect that there is some god within you (n.b. his father, of course, was Mars, the God of War). But, if some god were the author of your existence, he would bring you assistance at such a perilous moment: your mother would surely bring help; if she were not in need of help (herself), (she) who has become a mother and childless in a single day." He stopped (speaking), and put (them) down by the (water's) edge. They both wailed at the same time: you would have thought they knew (their situation); they (i.e. the servants) returned their homes with sodden cheeks. A hollow cradle keeps (the boys who have been) placed in (it) on top of the waters: oh! how great a destiny that little raft carried! The cradle landed amid the mud of a dark wood, and, as the river subsides, it gradually settles (there). There was a tree: traces (of it) are left, and what is now called the Rumina fig-tree was (once) Romulus' fig-tree. A newly-delivered she-wolf - (it was) a miracle! - came towards the exposed twins: who would believe that the creature did not do the boys any harm? It is not enough (to say that) she did not harm (them); she even helped (them). A wolf feeds (those) whom a kinsman's hands had undertaken to kill. She stood still and caressed the tender nurslings with her tail, and licked their two bodies with her tongue. You would know (they were) the sons of Mars: fear was absent. They suck her teats, and are nourished by the richness of the milk (which was) not intended for them. She gave her name to the place (i.e. it was named after the name for a wolf - 'lupus' in Latin), and (the name of) the place itself (was given) to the Luperci; the nurse receives a great reward for the milk she gave.
What stops the Luperci being named by the Arcadian mountain (i.e. Mount Lycaeus, named after 'ὁ λύκος', wolf in Greek, was central to the worship of Pan)? Lycaean Faunus (i.e. Pan) has shrines in Arcadia.
Bride, what are you waiting for? You will not become a mother through potent herbs, or prayer, or a magic chant. Patiently accept the lashes of a fruitful hand (i.e. be struck by the goat-skin thongs of the Luperci), (and) soon your father-in-law will have the desired name of a grandfather. For there was a day, when, due to (the decrees of) harsh fate, wives were rarely (able to) redeem the pledges of their womb (i.e. to bear children). "What is the use to me," cried Romulus - for he was holding the sceptre (i.e. he was ruling) at that (time) - , "if that wrong of mine has caused not strength, but war. It would have been better to have had no daughters-in-law." There was a grove beneath the Esquiline Hill, named after great Juno (i.e. the grove of Juno Lucina), (which had) not been cut for many years. When they came there, both husbands and wives together, they fell on bended knee in supplication: then suddenly the tree-tops moved and trembled, and the goddess spoke wondrous (words) through her grove. "Let the sacred he-goat penetrate Italian women," she said. The crowd is astounded, terrified by the sound of these dubious (words). There was an augur - his name has been lost due to the lapse of time; but he had lately arrived (as) an exile from Etruscan soil - ; he sacrifices a goat: (as) ordered, the young women offered their backs to be beaten by strips of its hide. (When) the moon assumed fresh horns in her tenth orbit, the husband suddenly became a father, and the wife a mother. Thanks (be) to (you), Lucina: the grove (i.e. 'lucus') gave its name to you, or (it is) because you retain the source of light (i.e. 'lucis'). Spare, I pray (you), pregnant women, and tenderly extract the ripe burden from their womb. (When) the day (of the Lupercalia) dawns, cease to put your trust in the winds; (for) the breezes of the present moment have destroyed (all) trust. The gales do not remain constant, and for six days the door of Aeolus' dungeon (i.e. on the island of Stromboli, the home of Aeolus, the king of the winds) (is) unbolted and stands wide open. Now, nimble Aquarius (i.e. the constellation of the Water-Bearer) has tilted his urn and has set (i.e. on this date, Aquarius rises before dawn and sets before sunset), and you, Piscis (i.e. the constellation of the Fish, or Fishes, as it is more commonly called), must be the next to welcome heaven's horses (i.e. this denotes the movement of the sun). They say that you and your brother - for you glitter together (as) stars - carried two gods on your back. Once, at the time when Jupiter was bearing arms in defence of the heavens, Dione (i.e. Venus), fleeing from the dreaded Typhon (i.e. the hundred-handed giant who was at war with Jupiter) came to the Euphrates, accompanied by the little Cupid (i.e. he was her son), and sat by the brink of the waters of Palestine. Poplars and reeds occupied the top of the banks, and willows too offered the hope that they could provide them with shelter. While she hid, the grove rustled in the wind: she goes pale with fear, and thinks that a hostile band is nearby, and she clutched her son to her bosom, and cried out, "Help, (you) nymphs, and bring assistance to two divine beings!" Without delay, she leapt in. A pair of fishes went underneath (them): for this (reason) the stars (i.e. Pisces) get their name, you see. And so, the superstitious Syrians consider (it) wrong to serve up this species at their table, nor do they defile their mouths with fish.
February 17: Quirinalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 475-532).
(The Quirinalia was celebrated by the Flamen Quirinalis, and was sacred to Quirinus, i.e. the deified Romulus, one of the Capitoline Triad of Gods: Jupiter, Mars and Quirinus. It was also known as the 'Festa Stultorum', the Feast of Fools.)
The next day is insignificant, but the third (day following is) called after Quirinus, who has this name - he was previously Romulus - , either because a spear (was) called a 'curis' by the ancient Sabines (by his spear that warlike god made his way to the stars), or (because) the Quirites gave their name to their king, or because he had united Cures with the Romans. For, when his father, the Lord of Arms (i.e. Mars), saw his new walls and the many wars waged by the hands of Romulus, he said. "Jupiter, Roman power has strength: it doesn't need the services of my blood (i.e. the labour of Romulus). Return the son to his father: although one (of my sons) is dead, (the one) who remains to me is (enough) for himself and for Remus. You have said to me, 'There will be one (of your sons) whom you will raise to the azure sky.' Let Jupiter's words be proved right." Jupiter nodded (in assent): both poles shivered at his nod, and Atlas felt in full the weight of the sky.
There is a place, the ancients called (it) the 'Goats' Marsh': you happened to be dispensing justice to your (people) there, Romulus. The sun disappears, and rising storm-clouds obscure the sky, and heavy rain falls in streams of water. Then it thunders, then the sky is rent by bolts of thunder: a flight occurs, (but) the king made for the stars on his father's steeds. There was mourning, and senators (were) falsely (put) on a charge of murder, and that belief might perhaps have stuck in (men's) minds; but Julius Proculus was travelling from Alba Longa, and the moon was shining and there was no need for a torch, when, suddenly, the hedge to his left shook with movement. He took some steps back, and his hair stood on end. Handsome, more than human, and resplendent in his robes, Romulus appeared to be (standing) there in the middle of the road, and, at the same time, to be saying, "Stop the Quirites (i.e. citizens) from mourning (me), for they should not profane my divinity with their tears: let the pious multitude bring incense and propitiate the new (god) Quirinus, and cultivate their ancestral arts of war." (So) he ordered, and (then) vanished from sight into thin air; he (i.e. Julius Proculus) gathers the people together, and reports the words of command. Temples are built for the god; a hill is also named after him (i.e. the Quirinal), and certain days commemorate the sacred rites of our ancestors (i.e. the Quirinalia).
Hear too why this same day is called the Feast of Fools (i.e. the 'Festa Stultorum'): the reason is trivial indeed, but fitting. The ancient earth had no expert farmers: bitter wars were exhausting active men. There was more glory in the sword than in the curved plough: neglected land brought little (return) to its owner. Yet, the ancients sowed corn, reaped corn, (and) offered the first fruits of the harvested corn to Ceres: taught by experience, they gave (it) to the flames to be toasted, and they incurred many losses through their own mistakes; for sometimes they swept up the blackened embers instead of corn, (and) sometimes the flames took hold of their very huts. Fornax (i.e. the 'Oven') was made a goddess: the jubilant farmers pray to Fornax to prevent their grain from burning (i.e. by regulating the heat of the oven). The 'Curio Maximus' ( i.e. the chief priest of the ward: Augustus had divided Rome into thirty wards) proclaims, in a set (form of) words, that today (is) the Fornacalia (i.e. the Feast of Ovens), but he does not fix (the date of) these sacred rites: and in the forum, around (which there are) many tablets hanging, each ward is marked by a certain sign, but a foolish section of the populace does not know which (one) their ward is, but causes the sacred rites to be celebrated on the last possible day.
February 21: Feralia: Fastus (ll. 533-616).
(The Feralia was the festival which featured the public honouring of the 'manes' or the spirits of the dead, and it began with the private ceremonies of the Parentalia, when offerings were made at tombs by family members.)
Honour is also (due) to tombs. Appease your fathers' spirits, and bring small offerings to (the places where) the funeral pyres (had been) constructed (i.e. the tombs). Their shades ask little: piety in the place of rich tribute is welcome; the deep Styx (i.e. the principal river in the Underworld) has no greedy gods. A tile, arranged and covered with garlands, and sprinkled corn and a thrifty grain of salt, and bread soaked in wine, and loose violets, (these) are enough. Let a brick, left in the middle of the street, hold these (things). I do not forbid greater (gifts), but a shade is readily appeased by these (ones): add prayers and suitable words to the hearths (that have been) set. Aeneas, a fit promoter of piety (towards one's parents), brought this custom to your lands, (O) just Latinus. He offered regular gifts to his father's genius: from this the people learned the rites of piety. But, once, while they were waging a long war with fierce weapons, they neglected the ceremonies of the Parentalia. This did not happen without a penalty; for it is said that from that omen, (as it were), Rome grew hot with suburban pyres. For my part, I (can) scarcely believe (it): our ancestors are said to have left their graves moaning in the still hours of the night, and they say that these shapeless spirits howled (their way) through the streets of the City and across the broad fields (in) a hollow throng. After that overdue honours are paid to the tombs, and an end comes to the portents and funeral rites. But, while these rites are happening, unmarried girls, do not get married! Let the pine (i.e. the nuptial) torch await pure days! And you, who seems ripe (for marriage) to your eager mother, do not let the curved spear (i.e. the 'hasta caelibaris', a small spear or pin, with the point of which a bride's hair was separated into six locks) comb your locks. Hide your torches, Hymen (i.e, the god of marriage), and carry (them) away from the dark fires: the gloomy tombs have other torches. Le the gods also hide themselves by shutting the temple doors, (and) let the altars be without incense, and the hearths remain without fire. Now vacant spirits and bodies discharged from their tombs wander around, now ghosts consume the offerings of food. But this does not last any longer than the point when there are as many Lucifers (i.e. days) (left) in the month as my verses have feet (i.e. eleven, the number of feet in an elegiac couplet): they call this day the Feralia, because (on it) they bear (i.e. 'ferunt') due (offerings to the dead); the last day (i.e of the Parentalia) is devoted to the propitiation of the shades.
Look, an old woman, full of years, sitting in the midst of those girls, is performing Tacita's sacred rites (i.e. Tacita was the goddess of silence and the halting of unfriendly speech and hostile tongues) - though she, herself, is scarcely silent - and, with three of her fingers, she tucks three (lumps of) incense under the door, where a tiny mouse has made itself a secret path: then, she fastens some enchanted threads with black lead (i.e. black lead was of great use in magic), and revolves seven (i.e. seven and three are the magic numbers) black beans within her mouth, and bakes in the fire the sewn head of a sprat, which she has covered with pitch, and which she has pierced with a bronze needle; (and) she drops wine (on it) too: she, or her companions drink whatever is left of the wine, though (she,) herself (gets) most (of it). (On) leaving, she says, "We have tied up hostile tongues and unfriendly mouths," and the old woman departs in a drunken state.
At once you will ask of us, who is the goddess Muta (i.e. another name for Tacita). Learn what I have come to know from the elders of ancient times (i.e. our forefathers). Jupiter, overcome by his intense love for Juturna (i.e. the Latin goddess of still waters and rivers, and a sister of Lara), bore many (things which) ought not to be endured by so great a god: at one moment she would hide in the woods among the hazel-thickets, at another she would leap into her kindred waters. He calls together all the nymphs who dwelt in Latium, and flings these words into the midst of their throng: "Your sister (i.e. Juturna) is spiting herself, and she shuns what would be of benefit to her, (that is) joining her limbs with (those of) the highest god. Think of (us) both! For what (would be) a great delight to me would be of great advantage to your sister. When she flees, stop (her) on the edge of the bank, lest she immerses her body in the river water." (So) he spoke; all the Tiberine nymphs agreed, and (those nymphs) who tend your bed-chamber, divine Ilia (i.e. the water-nymphs belonging to the River Anio, who invited Ilia to share his realm, Ilia being the poetical name of Rhea Silvia, daughter of Numitor, and mother of Romulus and Remus by Mars). There happened to be a Water-Nymph, named Lara; but her old name was the first syllable spoke twice (i.e. Lala), given (to her) on account of her failing (i.e. she wouldn't stop talking). Almo (i.e. the god of the river Almo, a tributary of the Tiber, and father of Lara/Muta) had often said to her, "Daughter, hold your tongue!" But she doesn't hold (it). As soon as she reached the pools of her sister Juturna, she says, "Flee from these banks!" and she repeats Jupiter's words. She even went to Juno in her pity for married (women), and said, "Your husband loves the nymph Juturna." Jupiter was furious, and tears out that tongue of hers which she had used (so) immoderately, and he summons Mercury (and tells him): "Take her to the shades: that place is suitable for the silent (ones). A nymph she will be, but a nymph of the infernal marsh." Jupiter's commands are fulfilled. On their way they reached a grove. Then, it is said, she was pleasing to the god (who was) her guide. He prepares to rape (her): she pleads with her expression instead of words, and struggles in vain to speak with her mute lips. She becomes pregnant and bears twins, the Lares (i.e. the Lares Compitales), who guard our crossroads and constantly watch over our city.
February 22: Caristia: Comitialis (ll. 617-638).
Dear kinsmen called the next (day) Caristia, and a throng of close relatives visits their family gods. Of course, it is pleasant to turn away at once from tombs and from the relatives who have perished (and look) towards the living, and, after so many have been lost, to gaze at whatever remains of our blood-line, and to enumerate the degrees of our kinship. Let the innocent come: let the undutiful brother be far, far away from here, and also the mother who is cruel to her offspring, (and he) whose father is (too) long-lived, (and he) who counts up his mother's years, (and) the unjust mother-in-law who bullies her daughter-in-law. Let the brothers who are descendants of Tantalus (i.e. Atreus and Thyestes) be absent, and also Jason's wife (i.e. Medea), and (she) who gave parched seed to farmers (i.e. Ino), and Procne and her sister (i.e. Philomela), and Tereus, an enemy to both (of them), and whoever gains his wealth by wicked means. Good (people), give incense to the gods of the family: gentle Concord is said to be present on this particular day especially; and offer food, so that the plate, offered to them (as) a token of thankful respect, may feed the wreathed Lares (i.e. the household gods). And now, when humid night induces peaceful sleep, take a large wine(-cup) in your hand in prayer, and say, "Good (health to) you, most worthy Caesar, (and) good (health to) you, Father of the Fatherland." May there be fine words (spoken) when the wine is poured.
February 23: Terminalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 639-684).
(A day sacred to Terminus, the god of boundary stones and markers. The boundary stones, themselves, were decorated with garlands, and sacrifices and feasts were held at boundary stones by adjacent landowners. A celebration was also held at a boundary stone in the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline Hill in Rome.)
When night has passed, let the god who separates the fields with his sign be celebrated with customary honour. Terminus (i.e. the Roman god of property, boundaries and frontiers), whether you are a stone or a tree-stump buried in the earth, you have also been a god since ancient (times). Two landowners crown you from different sides, and bring two garlands and two cakes (as offerings) to you. An altar is built: to this a rustic farmer's wife herself carries coals from a warm hearth in a broken earthernware pot. An old man chops wood, and piles up the cuttings with skill, and he works at sticking branches in the hard ground; then he stimulates the first flames with dry bark, (and) a boy stands (by) and holds some wide wicker-baskets in his hands. Then, when he has thrown grains of corn into the fire three times, a little daughter offers (pieces of) sliced honeycomb. Others hold wine(-cups): a part of each one is poured on the flames (as an offering); a crowd, (dressed in) white, watches and keeps silent. And Terminus is sprinkled in public (with the blood of) a slaughtered lamb, and he does not complain when a suckling pig is offered (to him). A single neighbourhood assembles and celebrates the feast, and they song your praises, (O) sacred Terminus: "You set bounds to peoples, and cities, and large kingdoms: without you, every field would be the subject of dispute. You do not seek popularity, nor can you be bribed with gold, but you guard the lands entrusted (to you) with the assurance of the law. If, in the past, you could have marked out the land of Thyrea, three hundred souls would not have been sent to their death (n.b. in 545 B.C. 300 Spartans met 300 Argives in a battle to settle a dispute over which city owned this territory), nor would (the name of) Othryades (i.e. the only Spartan survivor of the battle, who took his own life after inscribing his name in blood on the piled up shields of his fallen colleagues) have been read on the pile of weapons. O how much blood he bestowed on his native-land! What (happened), when the new Capitol was built? As everyone knows, a whole crowd of gods left, and gave their space to Jupiter; Terminus, as the ancients tell (us), (was) found in the shrine, and remained (there), and occupies the temple together with great Jupiter. Even now the temple roof has a small hole, so he can see nothing above (him) but the stars (i.e. sacrifices to Terminus had to be offered beneath the open sky, so a hole was made in the roof above his altar). After that, Terminus, you have had no freedom of movement: (so) stay on guard (at the place) where you have been put. And do not concede anything to a demanding neighbour, lest you seem to prefer a man to Jupiter: and, whether you are struck by a ploughshare or a rake, proclaim: 'This land is yours, (and) that (is) his'. "
There is a road which takes people to the Laurentine fields (i.e. the territory of Lanuvium), the realm once sought by the Dardanian (i.e. Trojan) leader (i.e. Aeneas): on that (path) (i.e. the Via Laurentina), the sixth milestone from the City sees a sacrifice being made to you, Terminus, through the entrails of a woolly sheep. Other races have land awarded (to them) with a fixed boundary; the extent of the City of Rome and of the world is the same.
February 24: Refugium (i.e. the flight of the king): Nefastus (ll. 685-856).
(A celebration of the expulsion of the last king of Rome and the founding of the Republic.)
Now I must relate 'the flight of the king'. The sixth day from the end of the month takes its name from that (event). Tarquin (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, 'the Proud'), an unjust man, but strong in arms, held the last kingship of the Roman people. He had captured some cities, (and) had demolished others, and he had made Gabii his by base trickery. For the youngest (i.e. Sextus) of the three (sons) of Superbus, (while) clearly (still) a child, makes his way into the midst of the enemy in the silence of the night. They had bared their swords: "Kill this unarmed (man)," he said. "My brothers and my father, who has lacerated my back with a cruel whip, would want this" - he had undergone a flogging so that he could say this. The moon was (out): they gaze at the youth, and (then) sheath their swords, and, when he drew back his clothing, they see his scourged back: they even weep, and beg (him) to continue the war with them. He cunningly assents to the unwary men's (request). Now in power, he sends a friend to ask his father to show him what (was) the way to destroy Gabii. There was a garden close at hand, much adorned with fragrant plants, (where) the soil (was) cut by a gentle stream of splashing water. There Tarquin receives his son's secret message, and he chops off the heads of the lilies with his staff. When the messenger returned and told (him) about the broken lilies, the son says, "I understand my father's orders." Without delay, he kills the chief citizens of the city of Gabii, and hands over its walls, (now) denuded of their leaders. Behold, something horrible to see, a snake slithers out from the midst of the altar and snatches the entrails from the extinguished flames. Phoeebus is consulted: his oracle replied as follows: "(He) who is the first to kiss (lit. give his lips to) his mother will be victorious." The credulous crowd not understanding the god, they all hurried to give kisses to their mothers. Wise Brutus (i.e. Lucius Junius Brutus) was pretending (to be) a fool, in order to be safe from your snares, dread Superbus. Throwing himself down (on the ground), he kissed his mother Earth. (though he was) believed to have stumbled and fallen.
Meanwhile, Ardea is encircled by Roman standards, and is suffering the long toils of a siege. While there is time, and the enemy is afraid to engage in battle, games are played in the camp (and) the soldiers take their ease. Young Tarquin entertains his friends with food and wine; the king's son speaks among them: "While Ardea (i.e. a port city of Latium) detains us, troubled, (as we are,) by this tedious war, and does not allow us to return our weapons to our fathers' gods (in triumph), are the duties of our marriage bed (being observed) at all? And are we in any way as important to our wives (as they are to us)? Each (man) praises his own (wife): the contest grows with their zeal, and tongues and hearts are inflamed with copious wine. (He) to whom Collatia (i.e. a Latin town some ten miles from Rome) had given its famous name (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus) arises: "There is no need for words. Believe the facts," he says. "The night is still (with us). Let us get on our horses and make for the City." His words are pleasing, and the horses are encumbered with bridles. They carry off their masters. At once, they make for the royal palace: there was no guard at the door.
Behold, they find the king's daughters-in-law with garlands draped around their necks, and staying awake all night with the wine placed (there for them to drink). Then, moving quickly, they seek Lucretia, before whose couch there were wicker-baskets and soft wool. By a small lantern, her maid-servants were spinning their allotted woollen thread, and among them she speaks as follows in her quiet voice: "Hurry now, hurry, girls, the cloak, (which has been) made by our hands, must be sent to your master as soon as possible. But what do you hear? - for you can hear more (than I). How much more of the war do they say there is left? You will soon be conquered and fall: you resist your betters, perverse Ardea, you who are forcing our husbands to be away. (If) only they could be brought back. But, as for my (husband), he is fool-hardy, and rushes all over the place with his drawn sword. I faint and I die as often as the image of my (husband) fighting comes into my (mind), and an icy coldness fills my heart." She ends in tears, and dropped the threads (she had) begun (to spin), and buried her face in her lap. This very (act) became (her): her modest tears became (her), and her face was worthily matched with her heart. "Set aside your fear, I have come," cries out her husband; she revived, and hung (as) a sweet burden from her husband's neck.
Meanwhile, the young prince catches the fires of furious (passion), and rages in the grip of a blind love. Her figure pleases (him), and her snowy-white complexion, and her golden hair, and the elegance which was natural to her, (and) in no way manufactured by artistry; her speech and her voice please (him), and (the fact) that she is incorruptible; and the less hope he has, the more he desires (her). The bird that heralds the dawn had already crowed, when the young men make their way back to their camp. His dazed senses are consumed by the image of the absent (girl). In his memory (these things) are more and more pleasing: "so she sat, so she was dressed, so she spun her thread, so lay her hair as it flowed on to her neck, she had that expression, those were her words, that (was) her complexion, those (were) her looks, that was the beauty of her face." As the ocean is accustomed to subside after a mighty blast, but the wave (which has come) from the wind which has died still swells, so, though the presence of that pleasing form was absent, the love, which that form, (when) present, had caused, remained. He burned (with passion), and, driven by the goad of an immoral love, he plans (to bring) rape and fear to a bed that does not deserve (these things). "The outcome is in doubt: we shall dare the ultimate (outrage)," he said. "She shall see! Fortune and god help the bold. By daring we took Gabii too." Saying such (things), he buckled his sword to his side and mounted his horse's back. Collatia's bronze gate welcomes the young man, as the sun prepares to bury its face. The enemy enters the interior of Collatinus' (house) as a guest: he is welcomed in a kindly manner; (for) he was a blood relation. How great an error there was in her mind! Unaware of the situation, that wretched (woman) prepares a banquet for her enemy. He finished the meal: the hour calls for sleep; it was night, and throughout the house there was no light. He gets up, and frees his sword from its golden sheath, and enters your bed-chamber, (you) chaste bride. And, as he climbs on to her bed, the King's son says, "I have a sword with me, Lucretia, and I, Tarquin, am speaking." She (says) nothing, for she has no voice or power of speech, or any thought in her mind at all; but she trembles, like a little lamb once caught straying far from the pens, when it lies under a vicious wolf. What should she do? Should she fight? In battle, a woman is (always) conquered. Should she scream? But the sword which was in his right-hand would forbid (it). Could she escape? (But) her breasts are being pressed down by his hands, breasts now being touched for the first time by the hands of a stranger. Her hostile lover puts pressure on (her) by entreaties, and bribes and threats: but he does not sway (her) by entreaty, or bribe or threats. "You can do nothing," he said. "I shall take away your life by an accusation: I, an adulterer, shall be a false witness to your adultery: I shall murder a slave, with whom you will be said to have been caught." Overcome by fear for her reputation, the girl succumbed. Why, victor, do you rejoice? This victory will destroy you. Alas, by such means did a single night cost (you) your kingdom! Alas, by such means did s single night cost (you) your kingdom!
Now, the (next) day had dawned: she sits with her hair dishevelled, like a mother is accustomed (to do), when she is due to visit her son's funeral pyre, and she summons her aged father and her faithful husband from the camp: and they both came without delay. And, when they see her condition, they ask what (is) the reason for her mourning, whose funeral rites she is preparing, and by what disaster she has been struck. For a long time she is silent, and she hides her face in her clothing through shame: her tears flow like an ever-running stream. Then, her father and her husband relieve her tears and beg (her) to disclose (what has happened), and they weep and tremble with blind fear. Three times she tried to speak, three times she stopped, and, while she dared (to do so) the fourth time, she did not raise her eyes for this reason: "Shall I owe this too to Tarquin. Must I speak," she says, "must I, wretched (woman that I am,) tell of my dishonour myself?" What she could, she tells (them); the final (part) is left out: she wept, and her matronly cheeks blushed. Her father and her husband give their pardon for what she had been forced to do: "That pardon you grant, I deny myself," she said. Without delay, she stabbed her breast with a blade (she had kept) hidden, and she falls at her father's feet, gushing blood. Now, even then as she dies, she takes care that she should not fall in an indecent manner: this was her concern even as she fell.
Look, her husband and her father throw (themselves) on her body, regardless of appearances, grieving for their common loss. Brutus is there, and at last he belies his name (i.e. 'stupid') with some spirit, and snatches the weapon (which was) stuck in the dying body, and, holding the knife dripping with her noble blood, he uttered these fearless words through his menacing mouth: "I swear to you by this courageous and chaste blood (of yours) and by your ghost, which will be a god to me, that Tarquin and his fugitive stock will pay the penalty (for this). Now my virtue has been concealed for long enough." At these words, she moved her sightless eyes, as she lay (there), and she seemed to approve (what he had) said by stirring her hair. She is borne to her funeral ceremony, a woman with a manly spirit, and she draws tears and resentment with her. Her gaping wound is exposed: with a shout, Brutus arouses the Quirites (i.e. the citizens of Rome) and recounts the king's wicked deeds. Tarquin flees with his offspring: that was the last day for kingship. Are we deceived, or has spring's herald, the swallow arrived, and does she not fear lest winter, by some means twisting around, should return again. Yet often, Procne (i.e. she had been metamorphosed into a swallow to avoid being killed by Tereus, to whom she had served up the body of their son Itys at a banquet, in revenge for his rape of her sister Philomela), you will complain of too much haste, and your husband Tereus will delight in your coldness.
February 27: Equirria: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 857-864).
(A festival of horse-racing, dedicated to Mars, god of war and agriculture, it had been established by Romulus in the early days of Rome, and was held on the Campus Martius.)
Now, two nights of the second month are left, and Mars urges on the swift horses (that are) yoked to his chariot; in truth, the occasion has retained the name 'Equirria', and the god, himself, views it in his field (i.e. the Campus Martius). You are here by right, Gradivus (i.e. an epithet of Mars as the Marching God): your season demands its place, and the month marked by your name is here. We have reached the harbour, and the book has been completed together with the month. From here, my bark will now sail (across) other waters.
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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 II, 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 opens with an introductory dedication to Augustus (ll. 1-18), and an account of the origin of the month's name, arising from the purification ceremonies known as 'februa' (ll. 19-46). The main highlights of the Book are as follows: Arion's escape from pirates on the back of a dolphin (ll. 83-118); how the deeds of Augustus have surpassed those of Romulus (ll. 119-144); Jupiter's rape of Callisto, who is metamorphosed into a bear by an angry Juno, and then transported into the sky as the constellation Ursa Major (ll. 155-192); the Fabii and the Etruscans at Cremera (ll. 193-242); the festival of the 'Lupercalia' and its origins, including Faunus' failed rape of Omphale, and the spectacular fertility rites practised by the 'Luperci' (ll. 267-452); the festival of the 'Quirinalia', and the apotheosis of Romulus (ll. 475-512); and the festival of the 'Refugium', which celebrated the downfall of the monarchy, and the rape of Lucretia that led to it (ll. 685-852).
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. 1-54).
a. Dedication to Augustus (ll. 1-18).
Janus (i.e. January) has his end. And the year grows with my song: as the second month (advances), so let the second book (do so too). Now for the first time, my elegiac (metres), you travel with greater sails: of late I recall that you were (but) a minor work. I, myself, had you (as) willing servants in my love (poetry) (i.e. his 'Amores', 'Heroides', 'Ars Amatoria' and 'Remedia Amoris', all written in elegiac couplets), when my early youth toyed with its verses. (Now) I sing of sacred rites and dates marked in the 'Fasti' (i.e. the calendar): would anyone have thought that the road from there led to this? This (i.e. celebrating festivals) is my military service; we bear the arms we can (hold), and my right hand is not devoid of every function. If no javelins are hurled by my mighty arm, nor do they lie upon the back of a war-horse, and I wear no helmet, nor am I girt with a sword - any man can be handy with these weapons - , yet I honour your names, Caesar (i.e. Augustus), and progress through your titles. So, be present, and look upon my gifts for a while with a kindly gaze, if you have any (time) free from having to pacify foes.
b. The origin of the name of February (ll. 19-34).
Rome's fathers called purifications 'februa': even now many indications give that meaning to the word. The priests ask the king(-priest) (i.e. the 'Rex Sacrorum') and the flamen (i.e. the 'Flamen Dialis', the High-Priest of Jupiter) for wool, the name for which in the language of the ancients was 'februa'; the roasted spelt and grains (of salt) (i.e. the 'Mola Salsa'), which the lictor takes when he is cleansing a certain house (i.e. the home of the 'Flamen Dialis'), are called (by) the same (name); the same name (too is given) to the branch, which, cut from a tree, covers the holy temples of the priests with its foliage. I, myself, have seen the 'Flaminica' (i.e. the wife of the 'Flamen Dialis', when she was officiating) asking (the attendants) for 'februa'; a pine-twig was given to the one asking for 'februa'. In short, anything there is, by which our bodies can be purified, had this name in the time of our bearded forebears. The month (is) called by this (name) because the Luperci (i.e. the priests of Lupercus, divided into the three colleges of the Fabii, the Quinctilii and the Julii) scour the whole ground with strips of hide (i.e. goatskin), and they regard it (as a means of) atonement; or (it is) because, when the tombs have been placated, the time is pure, as soon as the days of the dead (i.e. the Festival of the Dead from the 13th to the 21st February) have passed.
c. Purifications (ll. 35-54).
Our ancestors believed that such purgation could erase every sin and every cause of evil. Greece gave (us) the beginning of this custom: she considers that the guilty can set aside impious acts by being purified. Peleus (i.e. King of Thessalian Phthia and father of Achilles) (absolved) the grandson of Actor (i.e. Patroclus), and Acastus (i.e. king of Iolchus) absolved Peleus himself as well from the death of Phocus by means of the waters of Haemonia (i.e. Thessaly); after she had been drawn through the void by bridled serpents, the trusting Aegeus (i.e. King of Athens and father of Theseus) entrusted the Phasian (woman) (i.e. Medea, the epithet being derived from the Phasis, the river of her homeland, Colchis) with a power (that she did) not deserve; the son of Amphiaraüs (i.e. Alcmaeon) said to Naupactian (i.e. Aetolian) Acheloüs (i.e. a river god, whose waters separated Acarnania and Aetolia), "Absolve my sin," (i.e. he had killed his mother Eriphyle in revenge for the death of his father) and he did absolve his sin. Ah! (you,) who thinks that the dismal crimes of murder can be washed away by river water, are just too gullible! But yet - lest you err through ignorance of the old system (i.e. the pre-Julian calendar) - , although the first month belongs to Janus, and did (so) previously, (the one) which follows Janus was (once) the year's final (month). You also, Terminus (i.e. the god of property, boundaries and frontiers), were the end of the sacred rites (i.e. the feast of the 'Terminalia' occurred on 23rd February). For the month of Janus (came) first, because the door is first: (the month) which was sacred to the latest shades of the dead was the last. Now the Decemvirs (i.e. the priestly college of the 'Decemviri Sacris Faciundis') are believed to have joined these months (i.e. January and February), separated by (such) a long space of time.
February 1: Kalends: Nefastus (ll. 55-72).
At the start of the month, it is said that Sospita (i.e. a designation of Juno, meaning 'Saviour') bordering the Phrygian Mother (of the Gods) (i.e. Cybele), was honoured with new shrines (n.b. a temple to Sospita was constructed on the Palatine Hill, near that of Cybele). Where now are the temples, which were dedicated on those Kalends? They have collapsed due to the passing of time. That the rest should not similarly fall shaken in ruins, the prescient care of our sacred leader (i.e. Augustus) guarantees, and under his (rule) no old age is being experienced by our shrines; it is not enough (for him) to bind up men: he binds up gods (as well). (O) builder of temples, (O) holy rebuilder of temples, I pray that there may be a mutual concern between you and the gods. May the gods grant you the years which (you grant) to them, and may they keep guard before your house. On this day too the nearby grove of Alernus is crowded, (at the place) where an alien Tiber seeks the waters of the ocean. At the sanctuary of Numa (i.e. the temple of Vesta, in the atrium of which Numa resided) and that of the Capitoline Thunderer, and on the summit of Jupiter's citadel, a sheep is sacrificed. Often (on this day), the sky, covered with clouds, rouses heavy rains, or the earth lies hidden under a fall of snow.
February 2: Nefastus (ll. 73-78).
When Titan (i.e. the Sun) next unhitches the jewelled yoke from his radiant steeds, as he is about to sink into Hesperia's (i.e. the Western) waves, on that night someone will say, as he raises his gaze to the stars, "Where is that Lyra today that sparkled (so brightly) yesterday?" And, while he searches for Lyra, he will also notice that the intervening Lion's back (has) suddenly sunk into the flowing waters.
February 3: Nefastus (ll. 79-118).
The Dolphin that you just saw studded with stars, he will escape your gaze on the following night; he was either a lucky go-between in furtive love, or he carried the Lesbian lyre and its master. What land does not know of Arion, what sea has not become acquainted (with him)? He held back the running waters by his singing? Often, a wolf, (while) pursuing a lamb, was halted by his voice; often the lamb stopped, (while) fleeing the ravenous wolf; often hounds and hares lay down in the same covert, and a deer stood on a rock next to a lion, and the chattering crow perched peacefully with Pallas' bird (i.e. an owl). Cynthia (i.e. Diana), it is said, often swooned at your notes, (O) tuneful Arion, as if they were her brother's (i.e. Apollo's).
Arion's name had filled the cities of Sicily, and he had captivated the shores of Ausonia (i.e. Italy) with this sounds; returning home from there (i.e. from Tarentum), Arion boarded a ship, and so carried (with him all) the riches (which he had) acquired through his art. Unlucky (man), perhaps you feared the winds and the waves: but the sea was safer for you than your ship. For the helmsman stood (there) with drawn sword, and the rest of the guilty crew had arms at hand. "What are you doing with a sword?" (cries the poet). "Such weapons should not be held in your fingers!" Trembling with fear, he says, "I do not seek to avoid death, but do let me take up my lyre and play a little." They give their permission, and deride any delay: the takes up a garland, which can suit your hair (too), Phoebus; he put on his robe, twice dyed in Tyrian purple: plucked by his thumb, the string gave out its own sounds, like a swan sings in mournful strains, when his white temples have been pierced by a cruel arrow. At once, he (i.e. Arion) leaps fully dressed into the midst of the waves; the azure stern is slashed by the displaced water. Then - (it is) beyond belief! - they say that a dolphin subjected itself to a novel load on its curved back. Sitting (there) and holding his lute, he sings the price of his passage, and soothes the ocean waves with his song. The gods look out for dutiful deeds: Jupiter received the dolphin among the constellations, and ordained that it should have nine stars.
February 5: Nones: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 119-148).
Now, I wish for a thousand tongues, and for myself to be in your heart, (O you) native of Maeonia (i.e. Homer), by whom Achilles is commemorated, while I sing the sacred Nones in alternating verses (i.e. the hexameters and pentameters of elegiac couplets). The highest honour is heaped upon the 'fasti' (i.e. the calendar). My genius deserts me and (the subjects that) are pressing (me) exceed my strength. I must sing of this day in a special voice. Why did I (so) foolishly wish to lay so great a weight upon elegiac (verses)? (Surely) this was a subject for the heroic foot (i.e. hexameters, or epic verse)!
Holy father of our country, the senate and the people have conferred thus title (i.e. 'Augustus') on you, and we, the knights (i.e. Ovid was a member of the equestrian order), have conferred this title on you (too). Yet, events have granted (it) previously: also you have received your true names late, (and) you were father of the world a long time ago. You have on earth the name that Jupiter (has) in high heaven: you (are) father of men, he of the gods. Concede, Romulus: he makes your walls mighty by his care, (whereas) Remus could jump over (the ones) you left. Tatius (i.e. the king of the Sabines), tiny Cures (i.e. Tatius' home town) and Caenina (i.e. a city captured by Romulus during the Sabine War) knew of you; under this leader (the views from) both sides of the sun are Roman; you possessed a little scrap of conquered land, Caesar possesses whatever is beneath high Jupiter. You rape brides (i.e. the episode known as the rape of the Sabine Women), as leader he orders them to be chaste; you harboured (criminals) in your grove (i.e. Romulus populated his new city with criminals, to whom he offered a sanctuary within his 'grove' of the Capitoline Hill) he has repelled sin; force was pleasing to you, under Caesar laws thrive; you have the title 'master', he has that of 'first man'; Remus accuses you (of cruelty), he gave a pardon to his enemies. Your father (i.e. Mars) made you a god (i.e. when he was given the name 'Quirinus'), (whereas) he has deified his father (i.e. Julius Caesar).
Already Ida's boy (i.e.4 Ganymede, the Cup-Bearer of the Gods, sometimes identified with the constellation of Aquarius, the Water-Bearer, whose morning rising is featured here) emerges as far as the middle of his belly, and pours (for the gods) clear water with nectar intermingled (with it). Look also, if anyone used to dread the North Wind, let him rejoice: a softer breeze is coming from the West.
February 10: Nefastus (ll. 149-152).
Five days later, Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) has raised his bright light from the ocean waves, and the first days of spring are (here). But do not be deceived, cold (weather) is (still) in store for you, (yes, it is still) in store (for you), and departing winter has left behind ample traces.
February 12: Nefastus (ll. 153-192).
Let the third night come: You will see straightaway that the Bear-Keeper (n.b. these lines commemorate the evening rising of the constellation known to the Greeks as Arctophylax, 'The Bear-Keeper', or Boötes, the 'Ox-Herder') has revealed both his feet. Callisto was once a member of the sacred band, among (whom were) the Hamadryads (i.e. the Wood Nymphs) and Diana. Touching the goddess's bow, she says, "(You) bow, which I am touching, be a witness to my virginity." Cynthia (i.e. Diana in her capacity as moon goddess) praised (her), and said, "Keep the pledge (you have) promised, and you will be the first among my companions." She would have kept her pledge, if she had not been (so) beautiful: she shuns mortals, (but) commits a sin with Jupiter. Phoebe (i.e. Diana) was returning (home) after she had hunted countless wild beasts in the forests, as the sun either passes or has attained mid-day; when she reached a grove - a grove dark with dense holm-oak, (and) at its centre there was a deep fountain of cool water - , she says, "Tegean (i.e. Arcadian) virgin, let us bathe here in the wood"; she blushed at the false sound of 'virgin'. She (i.e. Diana) had also spoken to the nymphs. The nymphs lay aside their clothes. She (i.e. Callisto) is ashamed and gives suspicious signs of tardy delay. She took off her dress: she is clearly betrayed by the evidence of the weight in her swollen womb. The goddess said to her, "Oath-breaking daughter of Lycaon (i.e. a king of primitive Arcadia, whom Jupiter, angered at his cannibalistic practices, had turned into a wolf), leave this band of virgins, and do not pollute these pure waters!"
The moon with its horns had completed a fresh cycle ten times: (she) who had been thought a virgin, became a mother. The wounded Juno rages, and changes the girl's shape. Why do you do this? (She had) permitted Jupiter (to ravish her) with an unwilling heart. (But,) when she saw the shameful face of a wild beast on her rival's face, she said, "May you go to embrace her (now), Jupiter." She, who had recently been loved by supreme Jupiter, roamed the scrubby hill-sides (as) a shaggy bear. The boy, who had been secretly conceived (i.e. Arcas), was now aged fifteen (years), when the mother came face-to-face with her son. She, indeed, reared up frantically and growled, as if she knew (him): growls were his mother's (only) mode of speech. The boy, unaware (of who she was), would have pierced her with his sharp spear, if they had not both been caught up into the heavenly mansions. They shine (as) neighbouring constellations: the former is (the one) which we call "Arctos" (i.e. 'the Bear', known to astronomers as 'Ursa Major'), (and) "Arctophylax" (i.e. 'the Bear-Keeper') takes his shape behind the back of (the one) he follows. (But) Saturn's daughter (i.e. Juno) is still angry, and asks white Tethys (i.e. the waters of the sea, over whom Tethys reigns as the consort of Oceanus, and in which the sun sets) not to touch or to wash the Maenalian (i.e. Arcadian) Bear with her waters (n.b. as a result 'Ursa Major' moves around the North Star and never sets).
February 13: Ides: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 193-242).
The altars of rustic Faunus smoke on the Ides, at the place where the island splits the divided waters (i.e. the Temple of Faunus on the island of the Tiber was dedicated on the Ides of February 193 B.C.). This was the day, on which three hundred and six of the Fabii fell to the weapons of Veii (i.e this happened in 477 B.C.). One household had undertaken the burden of defending the city: the family's hands take up arms (as they had) promised. The noble soldiers march out from the same camp, (and) anyone of them was fit to be their leader. The quickest way is through the right arch of the Carmental gate: whoever you are, do not go through it; it is unlucky. Tradition has it that the three hundred Fabii went out that (way): the gate is free of blame, but it is still unlucky. When, by marching swiftly, they reached the rushing Cremera (i.e. a stream which flowed past Veii en route to the Tiber) - it was flowing in a disturbed manner due to the winter rains - , they pitched their camp at a (suitable) place (i.e. on the banks of the stream). They draw their swords and bravely fight their way through the Tyrrhenian (i.e. Etruscan or Tuscan) ranks, just like when lions of a Libyan breed attack the herds (which are) scattered across the wide fields. The enemy flee, and receive dishonourable wounds in their backs: the earth reddens with Tuscan blood. So they fall again (and again), and frequently; when open victory is denied (them), they plan ambushes (for the Tuscans) and conceal their weapons.
There was a plain; hills and a forest fit to hide mountain beasts enclosed the the end of the plain. In its centre they (i.e. the Veientes) leave a (few) men with a scattering of cattle, and the rest of their band lies hidden in the thickets. Look, just as a torrent, swollen by rain water or by snow, which melts after being overcome by the warm West Wind, is borne across the cornfields and over the roads, and does not, as was usual before, enclose and confine its waters by the edge of its banks. So the Fabii, widely dispersed, fill the valley and flatten whatever they see, and there is no other fear in (them). Where are you rushing to, (you) noble house? You are wrong to trust the foe: gullible nobility, beware of treacherous spears! Valour is destroyed by deceit: the enemy leaps out into the open plain from all sides, and occupies every flank.What can a few brave (men) do against so many thousands? Or what support is there (for them), or what (help) is left (to them) in (such a) wretched situation? As a wild boar, driven far from the woods by barking, scatters the speedy dogs with his thunderous snout, but he is soon killed, so they do not die unavenged, but inflict and receive wounds in turn. A single day had dispatched all the Fabii to war, (and) a single day destroyed (all those) sent to war. Yet, it is possible to believe that the gods, themselves, decided that the seeds of the race of Hercules (i.e. the Fabii claimed they were descended from Hercules) should survive: for a boy, underage and still unable (to bear) arms, was the (only) one left of (all) the Fabian family, no doubt so that you could one day be born, Maximus (i.e. Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus Cunctator, appointed dictator during the Hannibalic War), by whose delaying (tactics) the state might be restored. (n.b. Ovid's favourable presentation of the deeds of the Fabii no doubt reflects the fact that the influential nobleman Paullus Fabius Maximus, who died in 14 A.D., was probably his most powerful patron.)
February 14: Nefastus (ll. 243-266).
Three constellations lie close together in (one) region: Corvus (i.e. the Raven), Anguis (i.e. the Snake, more correctly Hydra, the Water-Snake), and Crater (i.e. the Mixing Bowl) in the middle between the two of them. On the Ides they lie hidden, (but) they rise on the following night. I shall tell you in song why these three are so closely linked together. Phoebus happened to be preparing a solemn feast for Jupiter - this tale of mine will not cause (you) any long delay: "Go, my bird," he said, "so that nothing delays the sacred rites, and bring a little water from the running springs." The raven lifts the gilded bowl in its curved feet (i.e. its claws), and flies high in the air on its way. There stood a fig-tree, very thick with fruit (that was) still unripe: he tries it with his beak, (but) it was not fit to be picked; forgetting his orders, it is said that he perched on the tree, while the fruit became sweet during this slow period of delay. Now sated, he seizes a long water-snake in his black talons, and returns to his master and says these lying words: "This (snake was) the cause of my delay, as it blocked the running water: it held back (both) the fountain and my task." "Do you add lies to your fault," says Phoebus, "and do you dare to try to deceive the god of prophecy with words? Now, until succulent figs hang on the tree, you will drink no cool water from the spring." (So) he spoke, and (as) a permanent memorial of this ancient deed, Anguis, bird, (and) Crater gleam (as) joint constellations.
February 15: Lupercalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 267-474).
(The Lupercalia was a celebration sacred to Faunus. On it, the Luperci priests sacrifice goats and a dog, as well as sacred cakes. Afterwards, two young nobles are smeared with the sacrificial blood, and the Luperci don the hides of goats and run through the streets, striking female passers-by with strips of goatskin in order to promote fertility.)
The third dawn after the Ides sees the naked Luperci, and the sacred rites of the two-horned Faunus (i.e Pan, as Faunus had no horns) are held. Tell (me), daughters of Pierus (i.e. the Muses), what is the origin of these sacred rites, and from where have they come in their search for a home. The ancient Arcadians are said to have worshipped Pan, the god of the flock; he frequents the Arcadian heights. Pholoë (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia) will be a witness (to this), and so will the Stymphalian waters, (i.e. Stymphalia was the name of a lake, beside a town of the same name, in Arcadia) and Ladon (i.e. an Arcadian river), which runs with its fast-flowing waters into the sea, and so will the ridges of the Nonacrian grove (i.e. Nonacris was the name of a town and mountain in Arcadia), ringed (as they are) with pine-trees, and lofty Tricrene (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia), and the Parrhasian (i.e. Parrhasia was the name of a tribe and a town in Arcadia) snows. There (i.e. in Arcadia) Pan was the god of cattle, (and) Pan (was the god) of mares, and he received an offering for keeping the sheep safe. Evander brought his woodland gods with him: the place where our city now stands was then (just) the sight of a city. So we worship the gods and perform the sacred rites conveyed (here) by the Pelasgians (i.e. Evander's Arcadians): the flamen Dialis (i.e. the High Priest of Jupiter) the enacted these (rites) in their ancient form.
So, why, you ask, do they (i.e. the Luperci) run, and why - (for) it is their custom to run in this manner - do they bear their bodies naked and stripped of their clothes? The god (i.e. Faunus), himself, likes to run swiftly across the top of the mountains, and he, himself, understands (the need for) sudden flight: the god, himself, (is) naked, and orders his attendants to go naked; nor are clothes at all suitable for running. Before Jupiter was born, they say that the Arcadians occupied the earth, and that their race was older than the moon. Their life (was) similar to beasts, lived for no benefit: the common people were uncultivated and still without any skills. They made use of leaves to (build) houses, and grass to (plant) crops; water, scooped up in the palms of their two (hands), was nectar (to them). No bull was panting beneath a curved ploughshare, (and) no (piece of) soil was under the control of a farmer: no horse was yet being employed; everyone carried himself: sheep went about, their bodies clothed in their own wool. They were inured to Jupiter's (sky) (i.e. the open air) and they bore their bodies naked, having learned to endure heavy rain and southern winds. Even now, the unclothed (priests) bring back memories of ancient custom, and testify to the old conditions (i.e. the want of wealth).
But. as to why Faunus especially shuns clothing, a story full of ancient humour, is handed down. I happened that the young man from Tiryns (i.e. Hercules) was strolling about (as) the companion of his mistress (i.e. Omphale, queen of Lydia, to whom he had been sold by Mercury): Faunus saw (them) both from a high ridge, he saw and burned (with desire), and he said, "Mountain deities, I have no further need of your (company): she will be my passion." The Maeonian (woman) (i.e. the Lydian Omphale) walked with her scented hair streaming over her shoulders, (and) distinguished by her gilded robe. Her golden parasol kept off the warm rays of the sun, and, indeed, the hands of Hercules held it up (over her). Now, she reached the grove of Bacchus and the vineyard of Tmolus (i.e. the husband of Omphale and King of Lydia, killed by Diana as a punishment for ravishing one of her attendants), while dewy Hesperus (i.e. the Evening Star) rode his dusky steed. She enters the cave, roofed with tufa and natural rock; in front of the entrance there was a babbling brook. And, while her attendants were preparing a banquet and wine to drink, she dressed the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) in her own garments. She gives (him) a dainty frock, dyed in Gaetulian (i.e. African) purple, and she gives (him) an elegant girdle, with which she was recently girt (herself). The girdle is smaller than his belly; he stretches the arm-holes of the frock, so that he can insert his huge hands. He shattered her arm-bands, not made for arms such as those, and his enormous feet split open her tiny sandals. She, herself, takes both his heavy club and his lion-skin, and the smaller arrows (which are) lodged in their quiver. So, they took part in the feast, and so they gave their bodies to sleep, and lay apart in beds placed side by side. The reason (for this abstinence): because they were preparing for the sacred rites of the inventor of the vine (i.e. Bacchus), which they would conduct in a pure manner, when the day had arisen.
It was the middle of the night. What does unruly lust not dare (to do)? Faunus comes to the cave: and, when he sees her companions overcome by sleep and wine, he has the hope that the same sleep has (come) upon their masters. The reckless adulterer enters and roams up and down, and he holds out wary hands before (him), and (then) follows (them). In his hunt for (them), he came to the couches (on which) the beds (were) spread, and he had been lucky in his first act of fate; (but,) when he touched the pelt of the tawny lion, prickly with bristles (as it was), he panicked and checked his hand, and, struck with fear, he recoiled, as a traveller often withdraws his foot (i.e steps back), (when) startled by the sight of a snake. Then, he touches the soft coverings of the couch which was nearby, and is misled by its deceptive feel. He pulls himself up, and reclines on the nearer (side) of the bed, and his swollen cock was harder than horn: and then he pulls up the dress from the bottom of its hem: coarse legs were bristling with thick hairs. Suddenly, the Tirynthian hero (i.e. Hercules) forestalled (him from) trying anything else: down he falls from the top of the bed. There is a noise, (and) the Maeonian (woman) (i.e. Omphale) calls her companions and asks for lights: torches are brought, and his actions become clear. He groans, having fallen heavily from the lofty bed, and he can barely lift his limbs from the hard ground. The grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) laughs, as do (all) who saw (him) lying (there), and the young woman from Lydia (i.e. Omphale) (also) laughs at her lover. (As he had been) fooled by clothing, the god (i.e Faunus) dislikes clothes, and summons (people to come) to his rites naked.
Add a Latin (i.e. Roman) reason (i.e. for the nakedness of the Luperci), my Muse, to the foreign (ones) (i.e. the imitation of Pan/Faunus; commemoration of the original state of man in Arcadia; and Faunus' dislike of clothing, following his failed attempt to seduce Omphale), and let my horse career around in its own dust. A goat (was) duly slaughtered (in sacrifice) to horn-footed Faunus, (and) a crowd arrived, having been summoned to the meagre feast. And, while the priests prepare the entrails, having skewered (them) on willow spits, and the sun is holding to the middle of its course, Romulus and his brother, and the young shepherd boys display their naked bodies on the sunlit plain. By (pitching) the bar, and (throwing) the javelin, and casting the heavy stone (i.e. putting the shot), they put their arms to the test through sporting (contests): (then) a shepherd from the heights shouted, "Romulus and Remus, thieves are driving our bullocks across out of the way countryside." (Too) long a (time) would have been (needed for them) to put on their armour: the two of them leave in different directions, and, after the (robbers') meeting with Remus, the plunder (was) recovered. When he returned, he drew the hissing entrails from the spits, and said, "For sure, no one but the victor shall eat these." He does (as he) said, and the Fabii join him. Romulus returns unsuccessful, and sees the bare tables and bones. He laughed, and felt sorry that the Fabii and Remus could have conquered, (and) his own Quintilii could not. The nature of the deed survives: they run (i.e. the Luperci) without clothes, and what turned out (so) well enjoys a lasting fame.
Perhaps you ask why that place should be (called) the Lupercal, or what reason should mark the day with such a name (i.e. the Lupercalia). The Vestal Silvia had brought heavenly seeds to birth, (while) her uncle (i.e. Amulius) was holding the throne; he orders that the infant boys should be removed and drowned in the river. What (on earth) are you doing, (uncle)? One of these will be Romulus. Reluctant servants fulfil their lamentable instructions, but they weep, and take the twins to a solitary spot. The Albula, to which Tiberinus (i.e. a king of Alba Longa) has given his name, after he was drowned in its waters, happened to be swollen by winter rainfall: here, where the fora (i.e. the Forum Romanum, the Forum Julium, and the Forum Augustum) now are, and (there) where your valley (now) lies, Circus Maximus, you could see boats bobbing up and down. When they had arrived at this place - for they could go any further - , one or the other says: "But, how alike they are! And how beautiful each one of them is! Yet, of the two of them, this (one) (i.e. Romulus) has the more vigour. If your lineage is shown in your features, unless the image is false, I suspect that there is some god within you (n.b. his father, of course, was Mars, the God of War). But, if some god were the author of your existence, he would bring you assistance at such a perilous moment: your mother would surely bring help; if she were not in need of help (herself), (she) who has become a mother and childless in a single day." He stopped (speaking), and put (them) down by the (water's) edge. They both wailed at the same time: you would have thought they knew (their situation); they (i.e. the servants) returned their homes with sodden cheeks. A hollow cradle keeps (the boys who have been) placed in (it) on top of the waters: oh! how great a destiny that little raft carried! The cradle landed amid the mud of a dark wood, and, as the river subsides, it gradually settles (there). There was a tree: traces (of it) are left, and what is now called the Rumina fig-tree was (once) Romulus' fig-tree. A newly-delivered she-wolf - (it was) a miracle! - came towards the exposed twins: who would believe that the creature did not do the boys any harm? It is not enough (to say that) she did not harm (them); she even helped (them). A wolf feeds (those) whom a kinsman's hands had undertaken to kill. She stood still and caressed the tender nurslings with her tail, and licked their two bodies with her tongue. You would know (they were) the sons of Mars: fear was absent. They suck her teats, and are nourished by the richness of the milk (which was) not intended for them. She gave her name to the place (i.e. it was named after the name for a wolf - 'lupus' in Latin), and (the name of) the place itself (was given) to the Luperci; the nurse receives a great reward for the milk she gave.
What stops the Luperci being named by the Arcadian mountain (i.e. Mount Lycaeus, named after 'ὁ λύκος', wolf in Greek, was central to the worship of Pan)? Lycaean Faunus (i.e. Pan) has shrines in Arcadia.
Bride, what are you waiting for? You will not become a mother through potent herbs, or prayer, or a magic chant. Patiently accept the lashes of a fruitful hand (i.e. be struck by the goat-skin thongs of the Luperci), (and) soon your father-in-law will have the desired name of a grandfather. For there was a day, when, due to (the decrees of) harsh fate, wives were rarely (able to) redeem the pledges of their womb (i.e. to bear children). "What is the use to me," cried Romulus - for he was holding the sceptre (i.e. he was ruling) at that (time) - , "if that wrong of mine has caused not strength, but war. It would have been better to have had no daughters-in-law." There was a grove beneath the Esquiline Hill, named after great Juno (i.e. the grove of Juno Lucina), (which had) not been cut for many years. When they came there, both husbands and wives together, they fell on bended knee in supplication: then suddenly the tree-tops moved and trembled, and the goddess spoke wondrous (words) through her grove. "Let the sacred he-goat penetrate Italian women," she said. The crowd is astounded, terrified by the sound of these dubious (words). There was an augur - his name has been lost due to the lapse of time; but he had lately arrived (as) an exile from Etruscan soil - ; he sacrifices a goat: (as) ordered, the young women offered their backs to be beaten by strips of its hide. (When) the moon assumed fresh horns in her tenth orbit, the husband suddenly became a father, and the wife a mother. Thanks (be) to (you), Lucina: the grove (i.e. 'lucus') gave its name to you, or (it is) because you retain the source of light (i.e. 'lucis'). Spare, I pray (you), pregnant women, and tenderly extract the ripe burden from their womb. (When) the day (of the Lupercalia) dawns, cease to put your trust in the winds; (for) the breezes of the present moment have destroyed (all) trust. The gales do not remain constant, and for six days the door of Aeolus' dungeon (i.e. on the island of Stromboli, the home of Aeolus, the king of the winds) (is) unbolted and stands wide open. Now, nimble Aquarius (i.e. the constellation of the Water-Bearer) has tilted his urn and has set (i.e. on this date, Aquarius rises before dawn and sets before sunset), and you, Piscis (i.e. the constellation of the Fish, or Fishes, as it is more commonly called), must be the next to welcome heaven's horses (i.e. this denotes the movement of the sun). They say that you and your brother - for you glitter together (as) stars - carried two gods on your back. Once, at the time when Jupiter was bearing arms in defence of the heavens, Dione (i.e. Venus), fleeing from the dreaded Typhon (i.e. the hundred-handed giant who was at war with Jupiter) came to the Euphrates, accompanied by the little Cupid (i.e. he was her son), and sat by the brink of the waters of Palestine. Poplars and reeds occupied the top of the banks, and willows too offered the hope that they could provide them with shelter. While she hid, the grove rustled in the wind: she goes pale with fear, and thinks that a hostile band is nearby, and she clutched her son to her bosom, and cried out, "Help, (you) nymphs, and bring assistance to two divine beings!" Without delay, she leapt in. A pair of fishes went underneath (them): for this (reason) the stars (i.e. Pisces) get their name, you see. And so, the superstitious Syrians consider (it) wrong to serve up this species at their table, nor do they defile their mouths with fish.
February 17: Quirinalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 475-532).
(The Quirinalia was celebrated by the Flamen Quirinalis, and was sacred to Quirinus, i.e. the deified Romulus, one of the Capitoline Triad of Gods: Jupiter, Mars and Quirinus. It was also known as the 'Festa Stultorum', the Feast of Fools.)
The next day is insignificant, but the third (day following is) called after Quirinus, who has this name - he was previously Romulus - , either because a spear (was) called a 'curis' by the ancient Sabines (by his spear that warlike god made his way to the stars), or (because) the Quirites gave their name to their king, or because he had united Cures with the Romans. For, when his father, the Lord of Arms (i.e. Mars), saw his new walls and the many wars waged by the hands of Romulus, he said. "Jupiter, Roman power has strength: it doesn't need the services of my blood (i.e. the labour of Romulus). Return the son to his father: although one (of my sons) is dead, (the one) who remains to me is (enough) for himself and for Remus. You have said to me, 'There will be one (of your sons) whom you will raise to the azure sky.' Let Jupiter's words be proved right." Jupiter nodded (in assent): both poles shivered at his nod, and Atlas felt in full the weight of the sky.
There is a place, the ancients called (it) the 'Goats' Marsh': you happened to be dispensing justice to your (people) there, Romulus. The sun disappears, and rising storm-clouds obscure the sky, and heavy rain falls in streams of water. Then it thunders, then the sky is rent by bolts of thunder: a flight occurs, (but) the king made for the stars on his father's steeds. There was mourning, and senators (were) falsely (put) on a charge of murder, and that belief might perhaps have stuck in (men's) minds; but Julius Proculus was travelling from Alba Longa, and the moon was shining and there was no need for a torch, when, suddenly, the hedge to his left shook with movement. He took some steps back, and his hair stood on end. Handsome, more than human, and resplendent in his robes, Romulus appeared to be (standing) there in the middle of the road, and, at the same time, to be saying, "Stop the Quirites (i.e. citizens) from mourning (me), for they should not profane my divinity with their tears: let the pious multitude bring incense and propitiate the new (god) Quirinus, and cultivate their ancestral arts of war." (So) he ordered, and (then) vanished from sight into thin air; he (i.e. Julius Proculus) gathers the people together, and reports the words of command. Temples are built for the god; a hill is also named after him (i.e. the Quirinal), and certain days commemorate the sacred rites of our ancestors (i.e. the Quirinalia).
Hear too why this same day is called the Feast of Fools (i.e. the 'Festa Stultorum'): the reason is trivial indeed, but fitting. The ancient earth had no expert farmers: bitter wars were exhausting active men. There was more glory in the sword than in the curved plough: neglected land brought little (return) to its owner. Yet, the ancients sowed corn, reaped corn, (and) offered the first fruits of the harvested corn to Ceres: taught by experience, they gave (it) to the flames to be toasted, and they incurred many losses through their own mistakes; for sometimes they swept up the blackened embers instead of corn, (and) sometimes the flames took hold of their very huts. Fornax (i.e. the 'Oven') was made a goddess: the jubilant farmers pray to Fornax to prevent their grain from burning (i.e. by regulating the heat of the oven). The 'Curio Maximus' ( i.e. the chief priest of the ward: Augustus had divided Rome into thirty wards) proclaims, in a set (form of) words, that today (is) the Fornacalia (i.e. the Feast of Ovens), but he does not fix (the date of) these sacred rites: and in the forum, around (which there are) many tablets hanging, each ward is marked by a certain sign, but a foolish section of the populace does not know which (one) their ward is, but causes the sacred rites to be celebrated on the last possible day.
February 21: Feralia: Fastus (ll. 533-616).
(The Feralia was the festival which featured the public honouring of the 'manes' or the spirits of the dead, and it began with the private ceremonies of the Parentalia, when offerings were made at tombs by family members.)
Honour is also (due) to tombs. Appease your fathers' spirits, and bring small offerings to (the places where) the funeral pyres (had been) constructed (i.e. the tombs). Their shades ask little: piety in the place of rich tribute is welcome; the deep Styx (i.e. the principal river in the Underworld) has no greedy gods. A tile, arranged and covered with garlands, and sprinkled corn and a thrifty grain of salt, and bread soaked in wine, and loose violets, (these) are enough. Let a brick, left in the middle of the street, hold these (things). I do not forbid greater (gifts), but a shade is readily appeased by these (ones): add prayers and suitable words to the hearths (that have been) set. Aeneas, a fit promoter of piety (towards one's parents), brought this custom to your lands, (O) just Latinus. He offered regular gifts to his father's genius: from this the people learned the rites of piety. But, once, while they were waging a long war with fierce weapons, they neglected the ceremonies of the Parentalia. This did not happen without a penalty; for it is said that from that omen, (as it were), Rome grew hot with suburban pyres. For my part, I (can) scarcely believe (it): our ancestors are said to have left their graves moaning in the still hours of the night, and they say that these shapeless spirits howled (their way) through the streets of the City and across the broad fields (in) a hollow throng. After that overdue honours are paid to the tombs, and an end comes to the portents and funeral rites. But, while these rites are happening, unmarried girls, do not get married! Let the pine (i.e. the nuptial) torch await pure days! And you, who seems ripe (for marriage) to your eager mother, do not let the curved spear (i.e. the 'hasta caelibaris', a small spear or pin, with the point of which a bride's hair was separated into six locks) comb your locks. Hide your torches, Hymen (i.e, the god of marriage), and carry (them) away from the dark fires: the gloomy tombs have other torches. Le the gods also hide themselves by shutting the temple doors, (and) let the altars be without incense, and the hearths remain without fire. Now vacant spirits and bodies discharged from their tombs wander around, now ghosts consume the offerings of food. But this does not last any longer than the point when there are as many Lucifers (i.e. days) (left) in the month as my verses have feet (i.e. eleven, the number of feet in an elegiac couplet): they call this day the Feralia, because (on it) they bear (i.e. 'ferunt') due (offerings to the dead); the last day (i.e of the Parentalia) is devoted to the propitiation of the shades.
Look, an old woman, full of years, sitting in the midst of those girls, is performing Tacita's sacred rites (i.e. Tacita was the goddess of silence and the halting of unfriendly speech and hostile tongues) - though she, herself, is scarcely silent - and, with three of her fingers, she tucks three (lumps of) incense under the door, where a tiny mouse has made itself a secret path: then, she fastens some enchanted threads with black lead (i.e. black lead was of great use in magic), and revolves seven (i.e. seven and three are the magic numbers) black beans within her mouth, and bakes in the fire the sewn head of a sprat, which she has covered with pitch, and which she has pierced with a bronze needle; (and) she drops wine (on it) too: she, or her companions drink whatever is left of the wine, though (she,) herself (gets) most (of it). (On) leaving, she says, "We have tied up hostile tongues and unfriendly mouths," and the old woman departs in a drunken state.
At once you will ask of us, who is the goddess Muta (i.e. another name for Tacita). Learn what I have come to know from the elders of ancient times (i.e. our forefathers). Jupiter, overcome by his intense love for Juturna (i.e. the Latin goddess of still waters and rivers, and a sister of Lara), bore many (things which) ought not to be endured by so great a god: at one moment she would hide in the woods among the hazel-thickets, at another she would leap into her kindred waters. He calls together all the nymphs who dwelt in Latium, and flings these words into the midst of their throng: "Your sister (i.e. Juturna) is spiting herself, and she shuns what would be of benefit to her, (that is) joining her limbs with (those of) the highest god. Think of (us) both! For what (would be) a great delight to me would be of great advantage to your sister. When she flees, stop (her) on the edge of the bank, lest she immerses her body in the river water." (So) he spoke; all the Tiberine nymphs agreed, and (those nymphs) who tend your bed-chamber, divine Ilia (i.e. the water-nymphs belonging to the River Anio, who invited Ilia to share his realm, Ilia being the poetical name of Rhea Silvia, daughter of Numitor, and mother of Romulus and Remus by Mars). There happened to be a Water-Nymph, named Lara; but her old name was the first syllable spoke twice (i.e. Lala), given (to her) on account of her failing (i.e. she wouldn't stop talking). Almo (i.e. the god of the river Almo, a tributary of the Tiber, and father of Lara/Muta) had often said to her, "Daughter, hold your tongue!" But she doesn't hold (it). As soon as she reached the pools of her sister Juturna, she says, "Flee from these banks!" and she repeats Jupiter's words. She even went to Juno in her pity for married (women), and said, "Your husband loves the nymph Juturna." Jupiter was furious, and tears out that tongue of hers which she had used (so) immoderately, and he summons Mercury (and tells him): "Take her to the shades: that place is suitable for the silent (ones). A nymph she will be, but a nymph of the infernal marsh." Jupiter's commands are fulfilled. On their way they reached a grove. Then, it is said, she was pleasing to the god (who was) her guide. He prepares to rape (her): she pleads with her expression instead of words, and struggles in vain to speak with her mute lips. She becomes pregnant and bears twins, the Lares (i.e. the Lares Compitales), who guard our crossroads and constantly watch over our city.
February 22: Caristia: Comitialis (ll. 617-638).
Dear kinsmen called the next (day) Caristia, and a throng of close relatives visits their family gods. Of course, it is pleasant to turn away at once from tombs and from the relatives who have perished (and look) towards the living, and, after so many have been lost, to gaze at whatever remains of our blood-line, and to enumerate the degrees of our kinship. Let the innocent come: let the undutiful brother be far, far away from here, and also the mother who is cruel to her offspring, (and he) whose father is (too) long-lived, (and he) who counts up his mother's years, (and) the unjust mother-in-law who bullies her daughter-in-law. Let the brothers who are descendants of Tantalus (i.e. Atreus and Thyestes) be absent, and also Jason's wife (i.e. Medea), and (she) who gave parched seed to farmers (i.e. Ino), and Procne and her sister (i.e. Philomela), and Tereus, an enemy to both (of them), and whoever gains his wealth by wicked means. Good (people), give incense to the gods of the family: gentle Concord is said to be present on this particular day especially; and offer food, so that the plate, offered to them (as) a token of thankful respect, may feed the wreathed Lares (i.e. the household gods). And now, when humid night induces peaceful sleep, take a large wine(-cup) in your hand in prayer, and say, "Good (health to) you, most worthy Caesar, (and) good (health to) you, Father of the Fatherland." May there be fine words (spoken) when the wine is poured.
February 23: Terminalia: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 639-684).
(A day sacred to Terminus, the god of boundary stones and markers. The boundary stones, themselves, were decorated with garlands, and sacrifices and feasts were held at boundary stones by adjacent landowners. A celebration was also held at a boundary stone in the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitoline Hill in Rome.)
When night has passed, let the god who separates the fields with his sign be celebrated with customary honour. Terminus (i.e. the Roman god of property, boundaries and frontiers), whether you are a stone or a tree-stump buried in the earth, you have also been a god since ancient (times). Two landowners crown you from different sides, and bring two garlands and two cakes (as offerings) to you. An altar is built: to this a rustic farmer's wife herself carries coals from a warm hearth in a broken earthernware pot. An old man chops wood, and piles up the cuttings with skill, and he works at sticking branches in the hard ground; then he stimulates the first flames with dry bark, (and) a boy stands (by) and holds some wide wicker-baskets in his hands. Then, when he has thrown grains of corn into the fire three times, a little daughter offers (pieces of) sliced honeycomb. Others hold wine(-cups): a part of each one is poured on the flames (as an offering); a crowd, (dressed in) white, watches and keeps silent. And Terminus is sprinkled in public (with the blood of) a slaughtered lamb, and he does not complain when a suckling pig is offered (to him). A single neighbourhood assembles and celebrates the feast, and they song your praises, (O) sacred Terminus: "You set bounds to peoples, and cities, and large kingdoms: without you, every field would be the subject of dispute. You do not seek popularity, nor can you be bribed with gold, but you guard the lands entrusted (to you) with the assurance of the law. If, in the past, you could have marked out the land of Thyrea, three hundred souls would not have been sent to their death (n.b. in 545 B.C. 300 Spartans met 300 Argives in a battle to settle a dispute over which city owned this territory), nor would (the name of) Othryades (i.e. the only Spartan survivor of the battle, who took his own life after inscribing his name in blood on the piled up shields of his fallen colleagues) have been read on the pile of weapons. O how much blood he bestowed on his native-land! What (happened), when the new Capitol was built? As everyone knows, a whole crowd of gods left, and gave their space to Jupiter; Terminus, as the ancients tell (us), (was) found in the shrine, and remained (there), and occupies the temple together with great Jupiter. Even now the temple roof has a small hole, so he can see nothing above (him) but the stars (i.e. sacrifices to Terminus had to be offered beneath the open sky, so a hole was made in the roof above his altar). After that, Terminus, you have had no freedom of movement: (so) stay on guard (at the place) where you have been put. And do not concede anything to a demanding neighbour, lest you seem to prefer a man to Jupiter: and, whether you are struck by a ploughshare or a rake, proclaim: 'This land is yours, (and) that (is) his'. "
There is a road which takes people to the Laurentine fields (i.e. the territory of Lanuvium), the realm once sought by the Dardanian (i.e. Trojan) leader (i.e. Aeneas): on that (path) (i.e. the Via Laurentina), the sixth milestone from the City sees a sacrifice being made to you, Terminus, through the entrails of a woolly sheep. Other races have land awarded (to them) with a fixed boundary; the extent of the City of Rome and of the world is the same.
February 24: Refugium (i.e. the flight of the king): Nefastus (ll. 685-856).
(A celebration of the expulsion of the last king of Rome and the founding of the Republic.)
Now I must relate 'the flight of the king'. The sixth day from the end of the month takes its name from that (event). Tarquin (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, 'the Proud'), an unjust man, but strong in arms, held the last kingship of the Roman people. He had captured some cities, (and) had demolished others, and he had made Gabii his by base trickery. For the youngest (i.e. Sextus) of the three (sons) of Superbus, (while) clearly (still) a child, makes his way into the midst of the enemy in the silence of the night. They had bared their swords: "Kill this unarmed (man)," he said. "My brothers and my father, who has lacerated my back with a cruel whip, would want this" - he had undergone a flogging so that he could say this. The moon was (out): they gaze at the youth, and (then) sheath their swords, and, when he drew back his clothing, they see his scourged back: they even weep, and beg (him) to continue the war with them. He cunningly assents to the unwary men's (request). Now in power, he sends a friend to ask his father to show him what (was) the way to destroy Gabii. There was a garden close at hand, much adorned with fragrant plants, (where) the soil (was) cut by a gentle stream of splashing water. There Tarquin receives his son's secret message, and he chops off the heads of the lilies with his staff. When the messenger returned and told (him) about the broken lilies, the son says, "I understand my father's orders." Without delay, he kills the chief citizens of the city of Gabii, and hands over its walls, (now) denuded of their leaders. Behold, something horrible to see, a snake slithers out from the midst of the altar and snatches the entrails from the extinguished flames. Phoeebus is consulted: his oracle replied as follows: "(He) who is the first to kiss (lit. give his lips to) his mother will be victorious." The credulous crowd not understanding the god, they all hurried to give kisses to their mothers. Wise Brutus (i.e. Lucius Junius Brutus) was pretending (to be) a fool, in order to be safe from your snares, dread Superbus. Throwing himself down (on the ground), he kissed his mother Earth. (though he was) believed to have stumbled and fallen.
Meanwhile, Ardea is encircled by Roman standards, and is suffering the long toils of a siege. While there is time, and the enemy is afraid to engage in battle, games are played in the camp (and) the soldiers take their ease. Young Tarquin entertains his friends with food and wine; the king's son speaks among them: "While Ardea (i.e. a port city of Latium) detains us, troubled, (as we are,) by this tedious war, and does not allow us to return our weapons to our fathers' gods (in triumph), are the duties of our marriage bed (being observed) at all? And are we in any way as important to our wives (as they are to us)? Each (man) praises his own (wife): the contest grows with their zeal, and tongues and hearts are inflamed with copious wine. (He) to whom Collatia (i.e. a Latin town some ten miles from Rome) had given its famous name (i.e. Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus) arises: "There is no need for words. Believe the facts," he says. "The night is still (with us). Let us get on our horses and make for the City." His words are pleasing, and the horses are encumbered with bridles. They carry off their masters. At once, they make for the royal palace: there was no guard at the door.
Behold, they find the king's daughters-in-law with garlands draped around their necks, and staying awake all night with the wine placed (there for them to drink). Then, moving quickly, they seek Lucretia, before whose couch there were wicker-baskets and soft wool. By a small lantern, her maid-servants were spinning their allotted woollen thread, and among them she speaks as follows in her quiet voice: "Hurry now, hurry, girls, the cloak, (which has been) made by our hands, must be sent to your master as soon as possible. But what do you hear? - for you can hear more (than I). How much more of the war do they say there is left? You will soon be conquered and fall: you resist your betters, perverse Ardea, you who are forcing our husbands to be away. (If) only they could be brought back. But, as for my (husband), he is fool-hardy, and rushes all over the place with his drawn sword. I faint and I die as often as the image of my (husband) fighting comes into my (mind), and an icy coldness fills my heart." She ends in tears, and dropped the threads (she had) begun (to spin), and buried her face in her lap. This very (act) became (her): her modest tears became (her), and her face was worthily matched with her heart. "Set aside your fear, I have come," cries out her husband; she revived, and hung (as) a sweet burden from her husband's neck.
Meanwhile, the young prince catches the fires of furious (passion), and rages in the grip of a blind love. Her figure pleases (him), and her snowy-white complexion, and her golden hair, and the elegance which was natural to her, (and) in no way manufactured by artistry; her speech and her voice please (him), and (the fact) that she is incorruptible; and the less hope he has, the more he desires (her). The bird that heralds the dawn had already crowed, when the young men make their way back to their camp. His dazed senses are consumed by the image of the absent (girl). In his memory (these things) are more and more pleasing: "so she sat, so she was dressed, so she spun her thread, so lay her hair as it flowed on to her neck, she had that expression, those were her words, that (was) her complexion, those (were) her looks, that was the beauty of her face." As the ocean is accustomed to subside after a mighty blast, but the wave (which has come) from the wind which has died still swells, so, though the presence of that pleasing form was absent, the love, which that form, (when) present, had caused, remained. He burned (with passion), and, driven by the goad of an immoral love, he plans (to bring) rape and fear to a bed that does not deserve (these things). "The outcome is in doubt: we shall dare the ultimate (outrage)," he said. "She shall see! Fortune and god help the bold. By daring we took Gabii too." Saying such (things), he buckled his sword to his side and mounted his horse's back. Collatia's bronze gate welcomes the young man, as the sun prepares to bury its face. The enemy enters the interior of Collatinus' (house) as a guest: he is welcomed in a kindly manner; (for) he was a blood relation. How great an error there was in her mind! Unaware of the situation, that wretched (woman) prepares a banquet for her enemy. He finished the meal: the hour calls for sleep; it was night, and throughout the house there was no light. He gets up, and frees his sword from its golden sheath, and enters your bed-chamber, (you) chaste bride. And, as he climbs on to her bed, the King's son says, "I have a sword with me, Lucretia, and I, Tarquin, am speaking." She (says) nothing, for she has no voice or power of speech, or any thought in her mind at all; but she trembles, like a little lamb once caught straying far from the pens, when it lies under a vicious wolf. What should she do? Should she fight? In battle, a woman is (always) conquered. Should she scream? But the sword which was in his right-hand would forbid (it). Could she escape? (But) her breasts are being pressed down by his hands, breasts now being touched for the first time by the hands of a stranger. Her hostile lover puts pressure on (her) by entreaties, and bribes and threats: but he does not sway (her) by entreaty, or bribe or threats. "You can do nothing," he said. "I shall take away your life by an accusation: I, an adulterer, shall be a false witness to your adultery: I shall murder a slave, with whom you will be said to have been caught." Overcome by fear for her reputation, the girl succumbed. Why, victor, do you rejoice? This victory will destroy you. Alas, by such means did a single night cost (you) your kingdom! Alas, by such means did s single night cost (you) your kingdom!
Now, the (next) day had dawned: she sits with her hair dishevelled, like a mother is accustomed (to do), when she is due to visit her son's funeral pyre, and she summons her aged father and her faithful husband from the camp: and they both came without delay. And, when they see her condition, they ask what (is) the reason for her mourning, whose funeral rites she is preparing, and by what disaster she has been struck. For a long time she is silent, and she hides her face in her clothing through shame: her tears flow like an ever-running stream. Then, her father and her husband relieve her tears and beg (her) to disclose (what has happened), and they weep and tremble with blind fear. Three times she tried to speak, three times she stopped, and, while she dared (to do so) the fourth time, she did not raise her eyes for this reason: "Shall I owe this too to Tarquin. Must I speak," she says, "must I, wretched (woman that I am,) tell of my dishonour myself?" What she could, she tells (them); the final (part) is left out: she wept, and her matronly cheeks blushed. Her father and her husband give their pardon for what she had been forced to do: "That pardon you grant, I deny myself," she said. Without delay, she stabbed her breast with a blade (she had kept) hidden, and she falls at her father's feet, gushing blood. Now, even then as she dies, she takes care that she should not fall in an indecent manner: this was her concern even as she fell.
Look, her husband and her father throw (themselves) on her body, regardless of appearances, grieving for their common loss. Brutus is there, and at last he belies his name (i.e. 'stupid') with some spirit, and snatches the weapon (which was) stuck in the dying body, and, holding the knife dripping with her noble blood, he uttered these fearless words through his menacing mouth: "I swear to you by this courageous and chaste blood (of yours) and by your ghost, which will be a god to me, that Tarquin and his fugitive stock will pay the penalty (for this). Now my virtue has been concealed for long enough." At these words, she moved her sightless eyes, as she lay (there), and she seemed to approve (what he had) said by stirring her hair. She is borne to her funeral ceremony, a woman with a manly spirit, and she draws tears and resentment with her. Her gaping wound is exposed: with a shout, Brutus arouses the Quirites (i.e. the citizens of Rome) and recounts the king's wicked deeds. Tarquin flees with his offspring: that was the last day for kingship. Are we deceived, or has spring's herald, the swallow arrived, and does she not fear lest winter, by some means twisting around, should return again. Yet often, Procne (i.e. she had been metamorphosed into a swallow to avoid being killed by Tereus, to whom she had served up the body of their son Itys at a banquet, in revenge for his rape of her sister Philomela), you will complain of too much haste, and your husband Tereus will delight in your coldness.
February 27: Equirria: Nefastus Publicus (ll. 857-864).
(A festival of horse-racing, dedicated to Mars, god of war and agriculture, it had been established by Romulus in the early days of Rome, and was held on the Campus Martius.)
Now, two nights of the second month are left, and Mars urges on the swift horses (that are) yoked to his chariot; in truth, the occasion has retained the name 'Equirria', and the god, himself, views it in his field (i.e. the Campus Martius). You are here by right, Gradivus (i.e. an epithet of Mars as the Marching God): your season demands its place, and the month marked by your name is here. We have reached the harbour, and the book has been completed together with the month. From here, my bark will now sail (across) other waters.
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