Latin Poetry Podcast

This is the third and last episode on Heroides 1. If you love Ovid’s Heroides, consider joining Chun Liu (Professor of Comparative Literature at Peking University) and me at the Dickinson Summer Latin Workshop (online this year), July 15-20, 2020. http://blogs.dickinson.edu/dcc/2019/11/06/dickinson-summer-latin-workshop-ovid-heroides/

Penelope imagines that Odysseus, who has the same desires as most men, might have taken up with another woman and is now describing Penelope to this other woman in unflattering terms.

haec ego dum stultē metuō, quae vestra libīdō est,                            75

esse peregrīnō captus amōre potes.

forsitan et nārrēs, quam sit tibi rūstica coniūnx,

quae tantum lānās nōn sinat esse rudēs.

fallar, et hoc crīmen tenuēs vānēscat in aurās,

nēve, revertendī līber, abesse velīs!                                                             80

Mē pater Īcarius viduō discēdere lectō

cōgit et immēnsās increpat usque morās.

increpet usque licet—tua sum, tua dīcar oportet;

Pēnelope coniūnx semper Ulixis erō.

ille tamen pietāte meā precibusque pudīcīs                                                85

frangitur et vīrēs temperat ipse suās.

Only now does she get around to mentioning the suitors, whose dining and carrying in the home of Odysseus is the major cause of the crisis in the Odyssey. 

Dūlichiī Samiīque et quōs tulit alta Zacynthōs,

turba ruunt in mē luxuriōsa procī,

inque tuā rēgnant nūllīs prohibentibus aulā;

vīscera nostra, tuae dīlacerantur opēs.                                                90

quid tibi Pīsandrum Polybumque Medontaque dīrum

Eurymachīque avidās Antinoīque manūs

atque aliōs referam, quōs omnēs turpiter absēns

ipse tuō partīs sanguine rēbus ālis?

Īrus egēns pecorisque Melanthius āctor[1] edendī                                95

ultimus accēdunt in tua damna pudor.

The letter ends with anxiety: first that Odysseus’ loyal family and servants are unequal to the task of fending off the suitors, and then, at the very last line as a surprise, worry that she is growing old in his absence. 

Trēs sumus inbellēs numerō, sine vīribus uxor

Lāertēsque senex Tēlemachusque puer.

ille per īnsidiās paene est mihi nūper adēmptus,

dum parat invītīs omnibus īre Pylon.                                                       100

dī, precor, hoc iubeant, ut euntibus ōrdine fātīs

ille meōs oculōs conprimat, ille tuōs!

hāc[2] faciunt cūstōsque boum longaevaque nūtrīx,

tertius inmundae cūra fidēlis harae;

sed neque Lāertēs, ut quī sit inūtilis armīs,                                              105

hostibus in mediīs rēgna tenēre valet[3]—

Tēlemachō veniet, vīvat modo, fortior aetās;

nunc erat auxiliīs illa tuenda patris—

nec mihi sunt vīrēs inimīcōs pellere tēctīs.

tū citius veniās, portus et ara tuīs!                                                       110

est tibi sitque, precor, nātus, quī mollibus annīs

in patriās artēs ērudiendus erat.

respice Lāertēn; ut tū sua lūmina condās,

extrēmum fātī sustinet ille diem.

Certē ego, quae fueram tē discēdente puella,                                            115

prōtinus ut veniās, facta vidēbor anus.

[1] actor Gς edd.: auctor Eω

[2] hac Tyrrel Knox Loeb: haec Egς: hoc ς

[3] valet Eς Plan. Knox: potest Gω Loeb

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If you love Ovid’s Heroides, consider joining Chun Liu (Professor of Comparative Literature at Peking University) and me at the Dickinson Summer Latin Workshop (online this year), July 15-20, 2020. http://blogs.dickinson.edu/dcc/2019/11/06/dickinson-summer-latin-workshop-ovid-heroides/

Omnia namque tuō senior tē quaerere missō

rettulerat nātō Nestor, at ille mihi.

rettulit et ferrō Rhēsumque Dolōnaque caesōs,

utque sit hic somnō prōditus, ille dolō.                                               40

ausus es—ō nimium nimiumque oblīte tuōrum!—

Thrācia nocturnō tangere castra dolō

totque simul mactāre virōs, adiūtus ab ūnō!

at bene cautus erās et memor ante meī!

usque metū micuēre sinūs, dum victor amīcum                                 45

dictus es īsse per agmen equīs.

Sed mihi quid prōdest vestrīs disiecta lacertīs

Īlios et, mūrus quod fuit, esse solum,

sī maneō, quālis Troiā dūrante manēbam,

virque mihi dēmptō fīne cārendus abest?                                                 50

dīruta sunt aliīs, ūnī mihi Pergama restant,

incola captīvō quae bove victor arat.

iam seges est, ubi Troia fuit, resecandaque falce

luxuriat Phrygiō sanguine pinguis humus;

sēmisepulta virum curvīs feriuntur arātrīs                                                  55

ossa, ruīnōsās occulit herba domōs.

victor abes, nec scīre mihi, quae causa morandī,

aut in quō lateās ferreus orbe, licet!

Quisquis ad haec vertit peregrīnam lītora puppim,

ille mihi dē tē multa rogātus abit,                                                                60

quamque tibi reddat, sī tē modo vīderit usquam,

trāditur huic digitīs charta notāta meīs.

nōs Pylon, antīquī Nēlēia Nestoris arva,

mīsimus; incertā est fāma remissa Pylō.

mīsimus et Spartēn; Spartē quoque nescia vērī.                                        65

quās habitās terrās, aut ubi lentus abes?

ūtilius stārent etiamnunc moenia Phoebī—

īrāscor vōtīs, heu, levis ipsa meīs!

scīrem ubi pugnārēs, et tantum bella timērem,

et mea cum multīs iūncta querēlā foret.                                                    70

quid timeam, ignōrō—timeō tamen omnia dēmēns,

et patet in cūrās ārea lāta meās.

quaecumque aequor habet, quaecumque perīcula tellus,

tam longae causās suspicor esse morae.

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Penelope (ca. 1868) by Charles-François Marchal. Penelope is not represented as the legendary wife of Odysseus but as a contemporary woman, dutifully engaged in needlework as she dreams about her husband, portrayed in the miniature before her. Metropolitan Museum, New York.

Here begins what I plan to be a series on Ovid’s Heroides, in preparation for an open online seminar on the Heroides with Chun Liu of Peking University, July 16-20, 2020. We will read and discuss several of the Heroides together. Please sign up and join us!

Penelope starts by letting Odysseus know she feels abandoned, and criticizes the Trojan war as not worth the pain it has caused to the women back home in Greece. Ovid makes it clear immediately that she knows the war is over (Troia iacet certe, Troy undoubtedly lies in ruins). Certe means that something is certain in the mind of the speaker, and is often used in protests: the unspoken protest here being “you should be back by now!” Lento “slow” in the first line also makes this complaint. Other key words express her lonliness: deserto (empty), frigida (cold), relicta (left behind), viduas (alone)—some of these adjectives apply to things (her bed, her hands) but they all emphasize her psychological state. Throughout the poem Ovid tests your knowledge of the Odyssey, and the first is an easy one, the reference to Penelope weaving (pendula tela). If you have read the Odyssey you know Penelope spends a good amount of time weaving, most famously the shroud of Laertes. The tela is the “warp,” the upright threads into which the “weft” is woven. It is said to be pendula (“hangning, suspended”) which just means that it is upright, not that it is swinging from the rafters.

Haec tua Pēnelopē lentō tibi mittit, Ulixe;

nīl mihi rescrībās attinet: ipse venī!

Troia iacet certē, Danaīs invīsa puellīs;

vix Priamus tantī tōtaque Troia fuit.

ō utinam tum, cum Lacedaemona classe petēbat,                                       5

obrutus īnsānīs esset adulter aquīs!

nōn ego dēsertō iacuissem frīgida lectō,

nec quererer tardōs īre relicta diēs;

nec mihi quaerentī spatiōsam fallere noctem

lassāret viduās pendula tēla manūs.                                                            10

Penelope refers to herself as puella in line 3, which seems not right, since she is a mature married woman, but I think Ovid is trying to say that she is still in love, that she is in the class of lovers (puella is the standard term for “beloved” in Roman love poetry). He emphasizes this in the next section where Penelope talks about how afraid she is that Odysseus will get hurt, and that this is how lovers are, nervous and worried (solliciti).  She grows pale at the mention of Hector’s name, or at the mention of the victory of one of Troy’s other great champions, Memnon or Sarpedon. Here the testing of your mythological knowledge gets more intense. Hector: no problem there if you know the Iliad; the mention of the death of Antilochus is much trickier. Antilochus was a son of Nestor, mentioned in the Odyssey 4.187 as having been killed by the Ethiopian champion Memnon, son of the Dawn and a late arrival to Troy, after the Iliad ends.  Tlepolemus, according to Iliad 5.628–665, was killed by Sarpedon, another great Trojan ally, from Lycia. She identifies these heroes by their victims because she says she gets nervous any time he gets news that any Greek has been killed, “the heart of the lover grows colder than ice.” Again this emotion portrays her as a lover, not so much a wife, though of course a wife would be nervous, too.

Quandō ego nōn timuī graviōra perīcula vēris?

rēs est sollicitī plēna timōris amor.

in tē fingēbam violentōs Trōas itūrōs;

nōmine in Hectoreō pallida semper eram.

sīve quis Antilochum nārrābat ab hoste revictum,                             15

Antilochus nostrī causa timōris erat;

sīve Menoetiadēn falsīs cecidisse sub armīs,

flēbam successū posse carēre dolōs.

sanguine Tlēpolemus Lyciam tepefēcerat hastam;

Tlēpolemī lētō cūra novāta mea est.                                                            20

dēnique, quisquis erat castrīs iugulātus Achīvīs,

frīgidius glaciē pectus amantis erat.

Now Penelope makes it clear how she knows that the war is over and that Odysseus survived it: the other Greek leaders have all returned. Casto (23) makes it clear she has remained faithful, which she famously did, though pressed by numerous suitors. The altars are smoking (altaria fumant) with thank offerings, and loot from the war is being hung up as dedications (ponitur) in temples—not a Homeric detail but one taken from later times. The returning warriors are describing their exploits to their parents and wives, who are giving thank offerings to the gods for their safe return. Penelope’s exclusion from these celebrations is hinted at, a source of bewildered frustration for her and pathos for us. Ovid expands on the storytelling element of intimacy between husbands and wives, as Penelope dwells wretchedly on the happiness of others. In the process Ovid mentions some further mythological details for us to recognize and savor: the geography of Troy (Pergama), the Simois river, the promontory of Sigeum, the palace of Priam. The fact that the geography is drawn in wine on a table makes it clear this is happening at a welcome-home celebration of which she has been deprived. Ovid also now has a chance to mention the greatest of the Greek heroes, Achilles (Aeacides), and the famous episode toward the end of the Iliad where Achilles drags Hector’s corpse around the walls. Ovid is the master of compressed, allusive narrative: all he says is that “here (pointing to a spot on the diagram), mangled Hector terrified the galloping horses” hīc lacer admissōs terruit Hector equōs). In a single line with one verb, one subject, two nouns and two adjectives, we get the key event (insulting of the corpse) and the key emotion (terror), without any mention of dragging. Focalizing it through the eyes of the horses, who stand in for us as viewers of the grisly spectacle, is a beautiful touch.

Sed bene cōnsuluit castō deus aequus amōrī.

versa est in cinerem[1] sospite Trōia virō.

Argolicī rediēre ducēs, altāria fūmant;                                                         25

pōnitur ad patriōs barbara praeda deōs.

grāta ferunt nuptae[2] prō salvīs dōna marītīs;

illī victa suīs Trōica fāta canunt.

mīrantur iūstīque senēs trepidaeque puellae;

nārrantis coniūnx pendet ab ōre virī.                                                         30

iamque[3] aliquis positā mōnstrat fera proelia mēnsā,

pingit et exiguō Pergama tōta merō:

‘hāc ībat Simois; haec est Sigēia tellūs;

hīc steterat Priamī rēgia celsa senis.

illīc Aeacidēs, illīc tendēbat Ulixēs;                                                                35

hīc lacer admissōs terruit Hector equōs.’

[1] cinerem Eς Knox: cineres Gω, Loeb

[2] nuptae Heinsius Knox: nymphae codd. Loeb

[3] iamque Gς Knox: atque Eς Loeb

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Philosophy Presenting the Seven Liberal Arts to Boethius. Coëtivy Master (French, active about 1450 – 1485). Source: Getty Museum

Ancius Manlius Severinus Boethius rose to high honors under Theodoric the Ostrogoth (ruler of the independent Ostrogothic Kingdom of Italy between 493–526), but fell from favor, was tried for treason, wrongly condemned and imprisoned at Ticinum (Pavia). Sentenced to death and to forfeiture of all his property, Boethius was executed by sword, probably in the autumn of 524. The Consolatio philosophiae, written from prison, discusses such fundamental existential questions as ‘What values are there?’, ‘What is the highest good?’, ‘What is the relationship between Providence and free will?’ With a regular switch between prose and poetry, a dialogue takes place with Philosophy, which appears to the condemned man in prison. In this passage Boethius puts the ideal of philosophical fortitude in the face of corrupt power in 18 lovely hendecasyllabic lines.

Quisquis composito serenus aevo
Fatum sub pedibus egit superbum
Fortunamque tuens utramque rectus
Invictum potuit tenere vultum,
Non illum rabies minaeque ponti
Versum funditus exagitantis aestum
Nec ruptis quotiens vagus caminis
Torquet fumificos Vesaeuus ignes
Aut celsas soliti ferire turres
Ardentis via fulminis movebit.
Quid tantum miseri saevos tyrannos
Mirantur sine viribus furentes?
Nec speres aliquid nec extimescas,
Exarmaveris impotentis iram.
At quisquis trepidus pavet vel optat,
Quod non sit stabilis suique iuris,
Abiecit clipeum locoque motus
Nectit qua valeat trahi catenam.

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Ovid on the Metamorphoses compares Hecuba to a lioness, not a tigress, but as I discuss based on Pliny and Valerius Flaccus, the two animals were grouped together in the Roman mind under the heading of savage mothers who get cubs stolen by raptores. For the best Safeguard your things go through this once.  In honor of the Netflix documentary Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem, and Madness I though I would do an episode on tigers in Roman poetry.

Hecuba and the Trojan Women Murdering Polymestor (Hecuba Polymnestori oculos ervit), from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’
(1606) by Antonio Tempesta

I discuss the following passages:

Pliny, Natural Historry 8.66

Tigrim Hyrcani et Indi ferunt, animal velocitatis tremendae et maxime cognitae, dum capitur totus eius fetus, qui semper numerosus est. ab insidiante rapitur equo quam maxime pernici atque in recentes subinde transfertur. at ubi vacuum cubile reperit feta—maribus enim subolis cura non est—, fertur praeceps odore vestigans. raptor adpropinquante fremitu abicit unum ex catulis; tollit illa morsu et pondere etiam ocior acta remeat iterumque consequitur ac subinde, donec in navem regresso inrita feritas saevit in litore.

Hyrcania and India produce the tiger, an animal of terrific speed, which is most noticeable when the whole of its litter, which is always numerous, is being captured. The litter is taken by a man lying in wait with the swiftest horse obtainable, and is transferred successively to fresh horses. But when the mother tiger finds the lair empty (for the males do not look after their young) she rushes off at headlong speed, tracking them by scent. The captor when her roar approaches throws away one of the cubs. She snatches it up in her mouth, and returns and resumes the pursuit at even a faster pace owing to her burden, and so on in succession until the hunter has regained the ship and her ferocity rages vainly on the shore.

Valerius Flaccus, Argonautica 6.146-49

Exomatas venatus alit, nec clarior ullis arctos equis;

abeunt Hypanin fragilemque per undam

tigridis aut saevae profugi cum prole leaenae,

maestaque suspectae mater stupet aggere ripae.

The Exomatae live by the chase, nor is the North more famous for any steeds; over the Hypanis and its fragile waves they speed, carrying off in their flight the cub of a tiger or fierce lioness, while the mother stands dazed with grief on the rampart of the treacherous bank.

and Ovid, Metamorphoses  545 ff.

qua simul exarsit, tamquam regina maneret,         545

ulcisci statuit poenaeque in imagine tota est,

utque furit catulo lactente orbata leaena

signaque nacta pedum sequitur, quem non videt, hostem,

sic Hecabe, postquam cum luctu miscuit iram,

non oblita animorum, annorum oblita suorum,         550

vadit ad artificem dirae, Polymestora, caedis

conloquiumque petit; nam se monstrare relictum

velle latens illi, quod nato redderet, aurum.

credidit Odrysius praedaeque adsuetus amore

in secreta venit: tum blando callidus ore 555

‘tolle moras, Hecabe,’ dixit ‘da munera nato!

omne fore illius, quod das, quod et ante dedisti,

per superos iuro.’ spectat truculenta loquentem

falsaque iurantem tumidaque exaestuat ira

atque ita correpto captivarum agmina matrum         560

invocat et digitos in perfida lumina condit

expellitque genis oculos (facit ira potentem)

inmergitque manus foedataque sanguine sonti

non lumen (neque enim superest), loca luminis haurit.

As soon as her rage blazed out, as if she still were queen, she resolved on vengeance and was wholly absorbed in the punishment her imagination pictured. And as a lioness rages when her suckling cub has been stolen from her, and follows the tracks of her enemy, though she does not see him, so Hecuba, wrath mingling with her grief, regardless of her years but not her deadly purpose, went straight to Polymestor, who wrought the heartless murder, and sought an audience with him, pretending that she wished to show him a store of gold which she had hoarded for her son and now would give him. The Thracian was deceived and, led by his habitual lust for gain, he came to the hiding-place. Then craftily, with smooth speech he said: “Come, Hecuba, make haste, give me the treasure for your son! I swear by the gods of heaven, all shall be his, what you give now and what you have given before.” She grimly eyed him as he spoke and swore his lying oath. Then did her rising wrath boil over, and, calling the captive women to the attack, she seized upon him, dug her fingers into his lying eyes and gouged his eyeballs from their sockets—so mighty did wrath make her. Then she plunged in her hands and, stained with his guilty blood, she plucked out, not his eyes, for they were gone, but the places of his eyes.

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Catullus 13 (text: G.P. Goold, 1983, via PHI)

Cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
paucis, si tibi di favent, diebus,
si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cenam, non sine candida puella
et vino et sale et omnibus cachinnis.              5
haec si, inquam, attuleris, venuste noster,
cenabis bene: nam tui Catulli
plenus sacculus est aranearum.
sed contra accipies meros amores
seu quid suavius elegantiusvest:                      10
nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae
donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque;
quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis,
totum ut te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

Fabullus, come over in a few days
and you will dine well, gods willing.
Just bring along a fine and ample
dinner, and don’t forget a lovely girl.
Bring wine, wit, and all kinds of laughter.
Bring all this, my charming man,
and you will dine very well, I say,
for Catullus’ purse has only cobwebs.
In return you will get pure, unmixed
love, or something even more elegant:
I’ll give you a scent, passed on to
my girl by Venus and Cupid themselves.
And when you smell that, dear Fabullus,
you will beg the gods on your knees
to turn you into one colossal nose. (Trans. Chris Francese)

Martial, Epigrams 3.12 (text: Heraeus and Borovskiy, via PHI)

Convivis here, sed nihil scidisti.
Res salsa est bene olere et esurire.
Qui non cenat et unguitur, Fabulle,
Hic vere mihi mortuus videtur.                       5

The perfume you gave your guests yesterday was, I admit, a good one, but you carved nothing. It’s amusing to smell nice and go hungry. He who doesn’t dine but is anointed, Fabullus, really seems to me a corpse. (trans. William Fitzgerald)

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WordPress powers over a third of the web and more than 38% of the top 10K websites. What began as a blogging platform is now the most widely-used content management system in the world, and a wise choice for site owners looking to scale for years to come.

In addition to the benefits of using open source software, using WordPress means having access to an entire ecosystem of developers, designers, and WordPress-specialized agencies. The WordPress community is a large and knowing group of experts who are willing to share and collaborate. Read more about WordPress for developers, WordPress Multisite, and how to make the most of Gutenberg for WordPress. Check out the latest enterprise wordpress services.

By the Numbers:

• There are 16K WordPress meetups across the globe with a combined membership of over 800,000 people
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As WordPress grows and evolves, more big brands are jumping on board—Sony, TechCrunch, Microsoft, and Facebook all run sites using the CMS. Its size in the market makes WordPress a leader in innovative digital experiences, and the scale of its developer ecosystem continues to drive innovation and adoption. WordPress, combined with enterprise WordPress hosting, is more than capable of running the biggest, most important sites on the internet.

WordPress is becoming the CMS of choice for more and more of the enterprise and big publishing sectors. People came to WordPress for its speed of deployment and publishing experience, they’ve stayed because of its unparalleled focus on backwards compatibility, the robust security of the core CMS, and its proven flexibility to meet the diverse requirements of some of the world’s largest enterprises.

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J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (1997) has a delightful Latin version, Harrius Potter et Philosophi Lapis (2003), by Peter Needham. Needham taught Classics at Eton for over thirty years and also translated A Bear Called Paddington into Latin. In this edition of Latin Poetry Podcast we check out his elegant version of the Sorting Hat Song. The meter is the elegiac couplet.

discipuli, pulchrum si me non esse putatis,

externa specie plus valet ingenium.

nam petasus nusquam toto si quaeritis orbe

me melior vobis inveniendus erit.

lautitias odi: nolo tegmenta rotunda,

neve cylindratos tradite mi petasos.

Distribuens Petasus vobis Hogvartius adsum

cui petasos alias exsuperare datur.

Distribuens Petasus scrutatur pectora vestra,

quodque videre nequit nil latet in capite.

in caput impositus vobis ostendere possum

quae sit, vaticanans, optima cuique domus.

vos forsan iuvenes Gryffindor habebit alumnos;

hanc semper fortes incoluere domum.

gens hominum generosa illa est fortisque feroxque;

illi nulla potest aequiperare domus.

gentibus a iustis et fidis Huffle tenetur

Puff. adversa tamen scit domus illa pati.

hic homines animisque piis verique tenaces

invenietis. erit vestra secunda domus.

tertia restat adhuc Ravenclaw nomine dicta;

est vetus et sapiens ingeniisque favet.

sunt lepus hic hominum cultorum artesque Minervae;

discipulos similes hic habitare decet.

forsitan in Slytherin veri invenientur amici;

improbus es? fallax? haec erit apta domus.

ut rata vota habeant scelus omne patrandum est

gentibus his; quaerunt nil nisi lucra sua.

verticibus iubeo me vos imponere nec non

pectoribus firmis rem tolerare velim!

‘incolumes eritis petasi tutamine,’ dicunt,

‘cum careat manibus, cogitat ille tamen.’

And here is the J.K. Rowling original (via Mugglenet):

Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,
But don’t judge on what you see,
I’ll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There’s nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can’t see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you’ve a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!
And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)
For I’m a Thinking Cap!

For an appreciation of Harrius Potter and how it can bring more Latin into your life, see Justin Slocum Bailey’s article from Eidolon 2017.

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Ysengrimus is a Latin mock epic, an anthropomorphic series of fables written in 1148 or 1149 in Latin elegiac couplets. Its chief character is Isengrin the Wolf; the plot describes how the trickster figure Reynard the Fox overcomes Isengrin’s various schemes. This week’s Latin Poetry Podcast is a excerpt in which Isengin and Reynard collaborate to bamboozle a peasant and steal his bacon. The translation is by Ashley Roman Francese, from the Latin text edited by Jill Mann: Ysengrimus. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library. Harvard University Press, 2013.

The trickster figure Reynard the Fox as depicted in an 1869 children’s book by Michel Rodange (Wikipedia)

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Unidentified man with mule carrying baskets of food. Italy, 1870s. Source: J. Paul Getty Museum

Claudian (ca. 370-ca.404 AD) is best known for his political poetry (he was associated with the court of the Roman emperor Honorius at Milan). But his miscellaneous carmina minora include a fascinating variety of shorter poems, such as a description of a marble chariot (CM 7), a sepulchral epigram on a beautiful woman (11), an invective against a poet with gout (13), and this poem on some marvelous mules.

Aspice morigeras Rhodani torrentis alumnas

imperio nexas imperioque uagas,

dissona quam uarios flectant ad murmura cursus

et certas adeant uoce regente uias.

quamuis quaeque sibi nullis discurrat habenis

et pateant duro libera colla iugo,

ceu constricta tamen seruit patiens que laborum

barbaricos docili concipit aure sonos.

 absentis longinqua ualent praecepta magistri

frenorum que uicem lingua uirilis agit.

 haec procul angustat sparsas spargit que coactas;

haec sistit rapidas, haec properare facit.

 laeua iubet? laeuo deducunt limite gressum.

mutauit strepitum? dexteriora petunt.

 nec uinclis famulae nec libertate feroces,

exutae laqueis, sub dicione tamen.

 incessu que pares et fuluis pellibus hirtae

esseda concordes multisonora trahunt.

 miraris si uoce feras pacauerit Orpheus,

cum pronas pecudes Gallica uerba regant?

Here is a translation by Chris Francese made for this episode.

Behold the compliant daughters of the rushing Rhone, interwoven by command and made to wander by command, see how they turn in various directions in response to various spoken commands and how the ruling voice directs them down fixed paths. Although each on goes its way without reins, and its neck is free from the harsh yoke, still it serves as if bound and works hard, listening to barbaric sounds with a docile ear. The far-off instructions of their absent master have their effect, and a man’s tongue serves as bridle and harness: this collects them when scattered, and scatters them when collected; this stops them as they run, and this makes them pick up speed. Does he order left? They step to the left. Has he changed his cry? They head to the right. Unchained slaves, but not defiant in their freedom, they have shaken off the halter but remain under control. With synchronized gate, their shaggy coats tawny, they harmoniously pull the noisy carts. Are you surprised that Orpheus tamed wild beasts with his voice, when Gallic words rule downward-looking beasts?

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