Thebaid

thumb|Primus in orbe deos fecit timor!Fear first made gods in the world. The Thebaid is a Latin epic poem written by the Roman poet Statius. Published in the early 90s AD, the Thebaid contains 9,748 lines arranged in 12 books, and recounts the clash of two brothers, Eteocles and Polynices, over the throne of the Greek city of Thebes. After Polynices is sent into exile, he forges an alliance of seven Greek princes and embarks on a military campaign against his brother. Quotations The translations are by D. R. Shackleton Bailey, and are taken from vol. 207 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2003), unless otherwise noted. Book I Fraternas acies alternaque regna profanisdecertata odiis. Fraternal warfare, and alternate reigns fought for in unnatural hate. Line 1 Impia jam merita scrutatus lumina dextramerserat aeterna damnatum nocte pudoremOedipodes longaque animam sub morte trahebat.illum indulgentem tenebris imaeque recessusedis inaspectos caelo radiisque penatesseruantem tamen adsiduis circumuolat alissaeva dies animi, scelerumque in pectore Dirae. Oedipus had already probed his impious eyes with guilty hand and sunk deep his shame condemned to everlasting night; he dragged out his life in a long-drawn death. He devotes himself to darkness, and in the lowest recess of his abode he keeps his home on which the rays of heaven never look; and yet the fierce daylight of his soul flits around him with unflagging wings and the Avengers of his crimes are in his heart. Line 46 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation (c. 1703; first pubd. 1712): Now wretched Oedipus, deprived of sight,Led a long death in everlasting night;But while he dwells where not a cheerful rayCan pierce the darkness, and abhors the day,The clear reflecting mind presents his sinIn frightful views, and makes it day within;Returning thoughts in endless circles roll,And thousand Furies haunt his guilty soul. thumb|These sons, ye gods! who with flagitious prideInsult my darkness and my groans deride. Exaudi, si digna precor quaeque ipsa furentisubiceres. orbum visu regnisque carentemnon regere aut dictis maerentem flectere adorti,quos genui quocumque toro; quin ecce superbi—pro dolor!—et nostro jamdudum funere regesinsultant tenebris gemitusque odere paternos.hisne etiam funestus ego? et videt ista deorumignavus genitor? tu saltem debita vindexhuc ades et totos in poenam ordire nepotes.indue quod madidum tabo diadema cruentisunguibus abripui, votisque instincta paternisi media in fratres, generis consortia ferrodissiliant. da, Tartarei regina barathri,quod cupiam vidisse nefas. Hear oh hear, if my prayer be worthy and such as you yourself might whisper to my frenzy. Those I begot (no matter in what bed) did not try to guide me, bereft of sight and sceptre, or sway my grieving with words. Nay behold (ah agony!), in their pride, kings this while by my calamity, they even mock my darkness, impatient of their father's groans. Even to them am I unclean? And does the sire of the gods see it and do naught? Do you at least, my rightful champion, come hither and range all my progeny for punishment. Put on your head this gore-soaked diadem that I tore off with my bloody nails. Spurred by a father's prayers, go against the brothers, go between them, let steel make partnership of blood fly asunder. Queen of Tartarus' pit, grant the wickedness I would fain see. Line 73 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: Oh, hear, and aid the vengeance I require,If worthy thee, and what thou mightst inspire!My sons their old, unhappy sire despise,Spoiled of his kingdom, and deprived of eyes;Guideless I wander, unregarded mourn,Whilst these exalt their sceptres o'er my urn;These sons, ye gods! who with flagitious prideInsult my darkness and my groans deride.Art thou a father, unregarding Jove!And sleeps thy thunder in the realms above?Thou Fury, then, some lasting curse entail,Which o'er their children's children shall prevail:Place on their heads that crown, distained with gore,Which these dire hands from my slain father tore;Go, and a parent's heavy curses bear;Break all the bonds of nature, and prepareTheir kindred souls to mutual hate and war.Give them to dare, what I might wish to see,Blind as I am, some glorious villany! Sociisque comes discordia regnis. Strife, the companion of shared sovereignty. Line 130 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: Each would the sweets of sovereign rule devour,While discord waits upon divided power. Quid si peteretur crimine tantolimes uterque poli, quem Sol emissus Eoocardine, quem porta vergens prospectat Hibera,quasque procul terras obliquo sidere tangitavius aut Borea gelidas madidive tepentesigne Noti? What if by such crime you sought both of heavens boundaries, that to which the Sun looks when he is sent forth from the eastern hinge and that to which he gazes as he sinks from his Iberian gate, and those lands he touches from afar with slanting ray, lands the North Wind chills or the moist South warms with his heat? Line 156 Tacitumque a principe vulgusdissidet, et, qui mos populis, venturus amatur. The crowd is at silent odds with the prince. As is the way of a populace, the man of the future is the favourite. Line 169 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: But the vile vulgar, ever discontent,Their growing fears in secret murmurs vent;Still prone to change, though still the slaves of state,And sure the monarch whom they have, to hate;New lords they madly make, then tamely bear,And softly curse the tyrants whom they fear. Aliquis, cui mens humili laesisse venenosumma nec impositos umquam ceruice volentiferre duces. One of them, whose bent it was to harm the highest with lowly venom nor ever to bear with a willing neck the rulers placed over him. Line 171 Radiant majore serenoculmina et arcano florentes lumine postes.postquam jussa quies siluitque exterritus orbis,incipit ex alto: grave et inmutabile sanctispondus adest verbis, et vocem fata sequuntur. The towers shine in a larger blue, and the portals bloom with a mystic light. Silence was ordered and mute in terror fell the world. From on high he begins. His holy words have weight heavy and immutable and the Fates follow his voice. Line 209 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: A shining synod of majestic godsGilds with new lustre the divine abodes:Heaven seems improved with a superior ray,And the bright arch reflects a double day.The monarch then his solemn silence broke,The still creation listened while he spoke;Each sacred accent bears eternal weight,And each irrevocable word is fate. Paret Atlantiades dictis genitoris et indesumma pedum propere plantaribus inligat alisobnubitque comas et temperat astra galero.tum dextrae uirgam inseruit, qua pellere dulcesaut suadere iterum somnos, qua nigra subireTartara et exangues animare adsueuerat umbras.desiluit, tenuique exceptus inhorruit aura.nec mora, sublimes raptim per inane volatuscarpit et ingenti designat nubila gyro. Atlas' grandson obeys his sire's words and hastily thereupon binds the winged sandals on to his ankles and with his wide hat covers his locks and tempers the stars. Then he thrusts the wand in his right hand; with this he was wont to banish sweet slumber or recall it, with this to enter black Tartarus and give life to bloodless phantoms. Down he leapt and shivered as the thin air received him. No pause; he takes swift and lofty flight through the void and traces a vast arc across the clouds. Line 303 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: The god obeys, and to his feet appliesThose golden wings that cut the yielding skies;His ample hat his beamy locks o'erspread,And veiled the starry glories of his head.He seized the wand that causes sleep to fly,Or in soft slumbers seals the wakeful eye;That drives the dead to dark Tartarean coasts,Or back to life compels the wandering ghosts.Thus, through the parting clouds, the son of MayWings on the whistling winds his rapid way;Now smoothly steers through air his equal flight,Now springs aloft, and towers the ethereal height;Then wheeling down the steep of heaven he flies,And draws a radiant circle o'er the skies. Sed nec puniceo rediturum nubila caelopromisere jubar, nec rarescentibus umbrislonga repercusso nituere crepuscula Phoebo:densior a terris et nulli peruia flammaesubtexit nox atra polos. But no clouds in a red sky promised daylight's return, nor in lessening shadows did a long twilight gleam with reflected sun. Black night that no ray can pierce comes ever denser from earth, veiling the heavens. Line 342 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: Yet no red clouds, with golden borders gay,Promise the skies the bright return of day;No faint reflections of the distant lightStreak with long gleams the scattering shades of night:From the damp earth impervious vapours rise,Increase the darkness, and involve the skies. Ac velut hiberno deprensus navita ponto,cui neque Temo piger neque amico sidere monstratLuna vias, medio caeli pelagique tumultustat rationis inops, jam jamque aut saxa malignisexpectat summersa vadis aut vertice acutospumantes scopulos erectae incurrere prorae. As a mariner caught in a winter sea, to whom neither lazy Wain nor Moon with friendly radiance shows directions, stands clueless in mid commotion of land and sea, expecting every moment rocks sunk in treacherous shallows, or foaming cliffs with spiky tops to run upon the rearing prow. Line 370 Cf. Alexander Pope's translation: So fares the sailor on the stormy main,When clouds conceal Bootes' golden wain,When not a star its friendly lustre keeps,Nor trembling Cynthia glimmers on the deeps;He dreads the rocks, and shoals, and seas, and skies,While thunder roars, and lightning round him flies. thumb|A just fortune awaits the deserving. Sors aequa merentesrespicit. A just fortune awaits the deserving. Line 661 (tr. C. T. Ramage). Compare: Fortuna meliores sequitur ("Fortune follows the deserving"), Sallust, Hist. 1.77.21. Book II Unus ibi ante alios, cui laeva voluntassemper et ad superos (hinc et gravis exitus aevi)insultare malis rebusque aegrescere laetis. One in particular, whose warped will it ever was even in the upper world (hence his life ended ill) to insult misfortune and wax sour at prosperity. Line 16 Qualis ubi audito venantum murmure tigrishorruit in maculas somnosque excussit inertes,bella cupit laxatque genas et temperat ungues,mox ruit in turmas natisque alimenta cruentisspirantem fert ore virum. As when a tigress hears the noise of the hunters, she bristles into her stripes and shakes off the sloth of sleep; athirst for battle she loosens her jaws and flexes her claws, then rushes upon the troop and carries in her mouth a breathing man, food for her bloody young. Line 128 Exedere animum dolor iraque demenset, qua non gravior mortalibus addita curis,spes, ubi longa venit. Grief and mad wrath devoured his soul, and hope, heaviest of mortal cares when long deferred. Line 319 Non parcit populis regnum breve. A brief reign spares not the folk. Line 446 thumb|O semper timidum scelus!Crime cowardly ever! O caeca nocentumconsilia! o semper timidum scelus! Blind counsels of the wicked! Crime cowardly ever! Line 489 Variant translations of O semper timidum scelus: Crime is always fearful. The Encyclopædic Dictionary, Vol. VII (1888), Part 2, p. 657 O wickedness, always full of fearful forebodings! Craufurd Tait Ramage, Great Thoughts from Latin Authors (1884), p. 583 Book III thumb|Fear (in times of doubt the worst of prophets) revolves many things. Plurima versat,pessimus in dubiis augur, timor. Fear (in times of doubt the worst of prophets) revolves many things. Line 5 Clamorem, bello supremus apertisurbibus. A cry like the last yell when warring cities are opened up. Line 56. J. H. Mozley's translation: "...that last cry when cities are flung open to the victors". Quantus equis quantusque viris in puluere crassosudor! io quanti crudele rubebitis amnes! What sweat in muddy dust for horses and for men! Ah, how high shall rivers be cruelly reddened! Line 210 thumb|It was forbidden to man to know what to-morrow's day would bring. Unde iste per orbemprimus venturi miseris animantibus aegercrevit amor? divumne feras hoc munus, an ipsi,gens avida et parto non umquam stare quieti,eruimus quae prima dies, ubi terminus aevi,quid bonus ille deum genitor, quid ferrea Clothocogitet? hinc fibrae et volucrum per nubila sermoastrorumque vices numerataque semita lunaeThessalicumque nefas. at non prior aureus illesanguis avum scopulisque satae vel robore gentesmentibus his usae; silvas amor unus humumqueedomuisse manu; quid crastina volveret aetasscire nefas homini. nos, pravum et flebile vulgus,scrutati penitus superos. Whence first arose among unhappy mortals throughout the world that sickly craving for the future? Sent by heaven, wouldst thou call it? Or is it we ourselves, a race insatiable, never content to abide on knowledge gained, that search out the day of our birth and the scene of our life's ending, what the kindly Father of the gods is thinking, or iron-hearted Clotho? Hence comes it that entrails occupy us, and the airy speech of birds, and the moon's numbered seeds, and Thessalia's horrid rites. But that earlier golden age of our forefathers, and the races born of rock or oak were not thus minded; their only passion was to gain the mastery of the woods and the soil by might of hand; it was forbidden to man to know what to-morrow's day would bring. We, a depraved and pitiable crowd, probe deep the counsels of the gods. Line 551 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Primus in orbe deos fecit timor. Fear first made gods in the world. Line 661. These words also appear in a fragmentary poem attributed to Petronius (Fragm. 22. 1). Book IV Illum Palladia sonipes Nemeaeus ab arcedevehit arma pavens umbraque inmane volantiimplet agros longoque attollit pulvere campum. A Nemean steed in terror of the fight bears the hero from the citadel of Pallas, and fills the fields with the huge flying shadow, and the long trail of dust rises upon the plain. Line 136 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Ille velut pecoris lupus expugnator opimi,pectora tabenti sanie grauis hirtaque saetisora cruentata deformis hiantia lana,decedit stabulis huc illuc turbida versanslumina, si duri comperta clade sequanturpastores, magnique fugit non inscius ausi. Like is he to a wolf that has forced an entrance to a rich fold of sheep, and now, his breast all clotted with foul corruption and his gaping bristly mouth unsightly with blood-stained wool, hies him from the pens, turning this way and that his troubled gaze, should the angry shepherds find out their loss and follow in pursuit, and flees all conscious of his bold deed. Line 363 (tr. J. H. Mozley) In speculis Mors atra sedet dominoque silentesadnumerat populos; maior superinminet ordo.arbiter hos dura versat Gortynius urnavera minis poscens adigitque expromere vitasusque retro. Black Death sits upon an eminence, and numbers the silent peoples for their lord; yet the greater part of the troop remains. The Gortynian judge shakes them in his inexorable urn, demanding the truth with threats, and constrains them to speak out their whole lives' story. Line 528 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Tela manu, reicitque canes in vulnus hiantes. While spear in hand he repels the hounds agape to rend him. Line 574 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Sic ubi se magnis refluus suppressit in antrisNilus et Eoae liquentia pabula brumaeore premit, fumant desertae gurgite valleset patris undosi sonitus expectat hiulcaAegyptos, donec Phariis alimenta rogatusdonet agris magnumque inducat messibus annum. So when ebbing Nile hides himself in his great caverns and holds in his mouth the liquid nurture of an eastern winter, the valleys smoke forsaken by the flood and gaping Egypt awaits the sounds of her watery father, until at their prayers he grants sustenance to the Pharian fields and brings on a great harvest year. Line 705 Juppiter, o quanta belli donabere praeda! Jupiter, what spoils of war will our gift make yours! Line 769 At puer in gremio vernae telluris et altogramine nunc faciles sternit procursibus herbasin vultum nitens, caram modo lactis egenonutricem clangore ciens iterumque renidenset teneris meditans verba inluctantia labrismiratur nemorum strepitus aut obuia carpitaut patulo trahit ore diem nemorique maloruminscius et vitae multum securus inerrat. But the child, lying in the bosom of the vernal earth and deep in herbage, now crawls forward on his face and crushes the soft grasses, now in clamorous thirst for milk cries for his beloved nurse; again he smiles, and would fain utter words that wrestle with his infant lips, and wonders at the noise of the woods, or plucks at aught he meets, or with open mouth drinks in the day, and strays in the forest all ignorant of its dangers, in carelessness profound. Line 793 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Book V thumb|Pleasant is it to the unhappy to speak, and to recall the sorrows of old time. Dulce loqui miseris veteresque reducere questus. Pleasant is it to the unhappy to speak, and to recall the sorrows of old time. Line 48 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Primae decrescunt murmura noctis,cum consanguinei mixtus caligine Letirore madens Stygio morituram amplectitur urbemSomnus et implacido fundit grauia otia cornusecernitque viros. The sounds of early night die down. Mingled with the darkness of his kinsman Death and dripping with Stygian dew, Sleep enfolds the doomed city, pouring heavy ease from his unforgiving horn, and separates the men. Line 196 O mihi desertae natorum dulcis imago,Archemore, o rerum et patriae solamen ademptaeseruitiique decus, qui te, mea gaudia, sontesextinxere dei, modo quem digressa reliquilascivum et prono uexantem gramina cursu?heu ubi siderei vultus? ubi verba ligatisimperfecta sonis risusque et murmura soliintellecta mihi? quotiens tibi Lemnon et Argosueta loqui et longa somnum suadere querela! Sweet semblance of the children who have forsaken me, Archemorus, solace of my lost estate and country, pride of my servitude, what guilty gods took your life, my joy, whom but now in parting I left at play, crushing the grasses as you hastened in your forward crawl? Ah, where is your starry face? Where your words unfinished in constricted sounds, and laughs and gurgles that only I could understand? How often would I talk to you of Lemnos and the Argo and lull you to sleep with my long tale of woe! Line 608 thumb|So strange is Chance, so blind the purposes of men! Pro fors et caeca futurimens hominum! So strange is Chance, so blind the purposes of men! Line 718 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Book VI Damnatus flammae torus. The flame-appointed pyre. Line 55 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Cuncta ignibus atrisdamnat atrox suaque ipse parens gestamina ferri,si damnis rabidum queat exaturare dolorem. Yet all does the sire himself ruthlessly condemn to the murky flames, and bid his own signs of rank be borne withal, if by their loss he may sate his devouring grief. Line 81 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Cadit ardua fagus,Chaoniumque nemus, brumaeque inlaesa cupressus;Procumbunt piceae, flammis alimenta supremis,Ornique, iliceaeque trabes, metuendaque sucoTaxus, et infandos belli potura cruoresFraxinus, atque situ non expugnabile robur:Hinc audax abies, et odoro uulnere pinusScinditur, adclinant intonsa cacumina terraeAlnus amica fretis, nec inhospita uitibus ulmus. The towering beeches fall and the Chaonian groves and the cypress that the winter harms not, spruces are flung prostrate that feed the funeral flames, ash-trees and trunks of holm-oak and yews with poisonous sap, and mountain ashes destined to drink the gore of cursed battle, and oaks unconquerable by age. Then the daring fir is cloven, and the pine with fragrant wound, alders that love the sea bow to the ground their unshorn summits, and elms that give friendly shade to the vines. Line 98 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Compare: The bilder ook, and eek the hardy asshe;The piler elm, the cofre unto careyne;The boxtree piper; holm to whippes lasshe;The sayling firr; the cipres, deth to pleyne;The sheter ew, the asp for shaftes pleyne;The olyve of pees, and eek the drunken vyne,The victor palm, the laurer to devyne. The builder oak, and eke the hardy ash,The pillar elm, the coffer unto caraine [carrion],The box pipe tree, holm to whip's lash,The sailing fir, the cypress death to plain,The shooter yew, the aspe for shafts plain,The olive of peace, and eke the drunken vine,The victor palm, the laurel, too, divine. Geoffrey Chaucer, Parlement of Foules (c. 1382), lines 176–182 L’un l’altro esorta, che le piante atterri, E faccia al bosco inusitati oltraggj. Caggion recise da’ taglienti ferri Le sacre palme, e i frassini selvaggj: I funebri cipressi, e i pini, e i cerri, L’elci frondose, e gli alti abeti, e i faggj: Gli olmi mariti, a cui talor s’appoggia La vite, e con piè torto al ciel sen poggia.Altri i tassi, e le quercie altri percote, Che mille volte rinnovar le chiome; E mille volte ad ogni incontro immote L’ire de’ venti han rintuzzate e dome: Ed altri impone alle stridenti rote D’orni e di cedri l’odorate some. Lascian al suon dell’arme, al vario grido, E le fere e gli augei la tana e ’l nido. Each man who brings a tree to earth provokesanother to like outrage, cheers each fall.The sacred palms by the sharp iron's strokes lie vanquished, and the sylvan ash trees sprawl, the funeral cypresses, the pines, the oaks, the leafy holms, the beech trees, fir trees tall, the married elms, at times engirdled by high vines, on gnarled feet groping for the sky.One cuts down yews, the while another's steel makes oaks, whose leaves changed for millennia, crash, though they, unmoved, a thousand times did feel, blunting and taming it, the wild storm's lash. A third one piles, above the creaking wheel, sweet-smelling loads of cedar and wild ash. The clang of arms, mingling with shouts of men, startle each beast and bird from nest and den. Torquato Tasso, Gerusalemme Liberata (1581), Canto III, stanzas 75–76 (tr. Max Wickert) The sailing pine; the cedar, proud and tall;The vine-prop elm; the poplar, never dry;The builder oak, sole king of forests all;The aspen, good for staves; the cypress, funeral;The laurel, meed of mighty conquerorsAnd poets sage; the fir, that weepeth still;The willow, worn of forlorn paramours;The yew, obedient to the binder's will;The birch, for shafts; the sallow, for the mill;The myrrh, sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound;The warlike beech; the ash, for nothing ill;The fruitful olive, and the plantain round;The carver holm; the maple, seldom inward sound. Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Books I (1590), Canto I, stanzas 8–9 Non ratus ore sacerdos,damnataeque preces. The priest confirmed it not, and my prayer was lost. Line 200 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Stare adeo miserum est, pereunt vestigia milleante fugam, absentemque ferit grauis ungula campum. To stand still is torture; a thousand paces are wasted before the start, the heavy hoof strikes the absent flat. Line 400 Auro mansueverat ungues. The claw tips are tamed with gold. Line 724. Thomas Gray's translation: "And calm'd the terrors of his claws in gold". thumb|'Tis noble to spare the vanquished. Pulchrum vitam donare minori. 'Tis noble to spare the vanquished. Line 816 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Book VII Namque ferunt raptam patriis Aeginan ab undis. For they say that Aegina was carried by force from her father's stream. Line 319 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Nimiumque oblite tuorum. Too little mindful of your folk. Line 547 Book VIII Stupet haec et credere Adrastuscunctatur. Adrastus is amazed thereat and slow to believe. Line 150 thumb|All soil is human birthright. Omne homini natale solum. All soil is human birthright. Line 320 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Variant translation: The whole world is a man's birthplace. Qui mente novissimus exit,lucis amor. Love of life, which departs last from the heart. Line 386 (tr. W. J. Dominik) Tydeos illa dies, illum fugiuntque tremuntque. That day was the day of Tydeus: from him they flee and tremble. Line 663 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Sic densa lupum jam nocte sub atraarcet ab apprenso pastorum turba juvenco. So in the dark of night a dense crowd of shepherds wards off a wolf from the steer he has caught. Line 691 Book IX Nonne Hyrcanis bellare putatistigribus, aut saeuos Libyae contra ire leones? Do ye not think ye are making war on Hyrcanian tigers or facing angry Libyan lions? Line 15 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Umida siccatmollibus ora comis. Dries his wet face with her soft hair. Line 374 Book X Stat super occiduae nebulosa cubilia NoctisAethiopasque alios, nulli penetrabilis astro,lucus iners, subterque cavis graue rupibus antrumit uacuum in montem, qua desidis atria Somnisecurumque larem segnis Natura locavit.limen opaca Quies et pigra Oblivio servantet numquam vigili torpens Ignauia vultu.Otia vestibulo pressisque Silentia pennismuta sedent abiguntque truces a culmine ventoset ramos errare vetant et murmura demuntalitibus. non hic pelagi, licet omnia clamentlitora, non ullus caeli fragor; ipse profundisvallibus effugiens speluncae proximus amnissaxa inter scopulosque tacet: nigrantia circumarmenta omne solo recubat pecus, et nova marcentgermina, terrarumque inclinat spiritus herbas.mille intus simulacra dei caelaverat ardensMulciber: hic haeret lateri redimita Voluptas,hic comes in requiem vergens Labor, est ubi Baccho,est ubi Martigenae socium puluinar Amoriobtinet. interius tecti in penetralibus altiset cum Morte jacet, nullique ea tristis imagocernitur. hae species. ipse autem umentia subterantra soporifero stipatos flore tapetasincubat; exhalant vestes et corpore pigrostrata calent, supraque torum niger efflat anheloore vapor; manus haec fusos a tempore laevosustentat crines, haec cornu oblita remisit. Beyond the cloud-wrapt chambers of western gloom and Aethiopia's other realm there stands a motionless grove, impenetrable by any star; beneath it the hollow recesses of a deep and rocky cave run far into a mountain, where the slow hand of Nature has set the halls of lazy Sleep and his untroubled dwelling. The threshold is guarded by shady Quiet and dull Forgetfulness and torpid Sloth with ever drowsy countenance. Ease, and Silence with folded wings sit mute in the forecourt and drive the blustering winds from the roof-top, and forbid the branches to sway, and take away their warblings from the birds. No roar of the sea is here, though all the shores be sounding, nor yet of the sky; the very torrent that runs down the deep valley nigh the cave is silent among the rocks and boulders; by its side are sable herds, and sheep reclining one and all upon the ground; the fresh buds wither, and a breath from the earth makes the grasses sink and fail. Within, glowing Mulciber had carved a thousand likenesses of the god: here wreathed Pleasure clings to his side, here Labour drooping to repose bears him company, here he shares a couch with Bacchus, there with Love, the child of Mars. Further within, in the secret places of the palace he lies with Death also, but that dread image is seen by none. These are but pictures: he himself beneath humid caverns rests upon coverlets heaped with slumbrous flowers, his garments reek, and the cushions are warm with his sluggish body, and above the bed a dark vapour rises from his breathing mouth. One hand holds up the locks that fall from his left temple, from the other drops his neglected horn. Line 84 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Pluraque laxato ceciderunt sidera caelo. More stars fall from the loosened sky. Line 145 Ut lea, quam saeuo fetam pressere cubilivenantes Numidae, natos erecta superstat,mente sub incerta torvum ac miserabile frendens;illa quidem turbare globos et frangere morsutela queat, sed prolis amor crudelia vincitpectora, et a media catulos circumspicit ira. So a lioness that has newly whelped, beset by Numidian hunters in her cruel den, stands upright over her young, gnashing her teeth in grim and piteous wise, her mind in doubt; she could disrupt the groups and break their weapons with her bite, but love for her offspring binds her cruel heart and from the midst of her fury she looks round at her cubs. Line 414 Volucrum sic turba recentum,cum reducem longo prospexit in aere matrem,ire cupit contra summique e margine nidiextat hians, iam iamque cadat, ni pectore totoobstet aperta parens et amantibus increpat alis. Even so a crowd of nestlings, seeing their mother returning through the air afar, would fain go to meet her, and lean gaping from the edge of the nest, and would even now be falling, did she not spread all her motherly bosom to save them, and chide them with loving wings. Line 458 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Ille coronatos iamdudum amplectitur ignes,fatidicum sorbens vultu flagrante vaporem. He straightway spreads his arms about the garlanded fire, and absorbs the prophetic vapours with glowing countenance. Line 604 (tr. J. H. Mozley) thumb|Da spatium tenuemque moram, male cuncta ministrat impetus.Give time, a little delay;impulse is ever a bad servant. Ne frena animo permitte calenti,da spatium tenuemque moram, male cuncta ministratimpetus. Give not rein to your hot mood, give time, a little delay; impulse is ever a bad servant. Line 703. Variant translation: Give not reins to your inflamed passions: take time and a little delay; impetuosity manages all things badly. Titulique in morte latentes. Reputation hidden in death. Line 712 'Fulmen, io ubi fulmen?' ait. gemit auctor Apollo. "The thunderbolt, ay, where the thunderbolt?" Apollo laments. Line 889 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Mirantur taciti et dubio pro fulmine pallent. They wonder in silence and turn pale for the dubious thunderbolt. Line 920 Book XI O furor, o homines diraeque Prometheos artes! Ah! what fury! alas! mankind, alas! dread Promethean skill! Line 468 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Book XII Nulla autem effigies, nulli commissa metalloforma dei: mentes habitare et pectora gaudet. No image is there, to no metal is the divine form entrusted, in hearts and minds does the goddess delight to dwell. Line 493 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Laetifici plausus missusque ad sidera vulgiclamor. ...glad applause and the heaven-flung shout of the populace. Line 521 (tr. J. H. Mozley) thumb|O live, I pray! Nor rival the divine Aeneid, but follow afar and ever venerate its footsteps. Vive, precor; nec tu divinam Aeneida tempta,sed longe sequere et vestigia semper adora. O live, I pray! Nor rival the divine Aeneid, but follow afar and ever venerate its footsteps. Line 816 (tr. J. H. Mozley) Mox, tibi si quis adhuc praetendit nubila livor,occidet, et meriti post me referentur honores. Soon, if any envy still spreads clouds before you, it shall perish, and after me you shall be paid the honours you deserve. Line 818 Quotations about the Thebaid It may be remarked of Statius's heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs through them all; the same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus, Hippomedon, etc. They have a parity of character which makes them seem brothers of one family. Alexander Pope, Preface to The Iliad of Homer (1715) External links Thebaid (Statius) Thebaid Category:Epic poetry Category:Latin literature