Wednesday, August 24, 2016

 

An Unidentified Quotation in Erasmus' Adages

Erasmus, Adages I i 1 to I v 100, translated by Margaret Mann Phillips, annotated by R.A.B. Mynors (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982), p. 99 (on I i 48 Tota erras via):
There is also that familiar saying: 'They run well but not on the right road.'

familiar saying] This is mentioned again in III i 84, but has not yet been identified.
The Latin:
celebre habetur et illud apophthegma, Bene currunt, sed extra viam: Καλώς μὲν τρέχουσιν, άλλ' έκτός τής όδού.
Erasmus, Adages II vii 1 to III iii 100, translated and annotated by R.A.B. Mynors (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 214-215 (on III i 84 Frustra currit), with note on p. 386:
Also the familiar remark2 once made by someone: 'They run, but not on the right road,' when a man toils industriously, but on no settled plan which can tell him in advance which path to follow and how far.

2 remark] I i 48; the source has not been traced.
The Latin:
Celebratur et illud cuiuspiam ἀπόφθεγμα: Τρέχουσιν ἔξω τῆς ὁδοῦ, id est Currunt extra viam, vbi quis sedulo quidem molitur, sed nulla certa ratione, quae praemonstret, quid quatenusque sequendum sit.
I wonder if Erasmus was thinking of Augustine, Sermons 141.4 (on John's Gospel 14.6; Patrologia Latina 38, col. 777; tr. R.G. MacMullen):
For sometimes even those who walk well, run outside the way. Thus you will find men living well, and not Christians. They run well; but they run not in the way. The more they run, the more they go astray; because they are out of the Way.

aliquando enim ipsi bene ambulantes, praeter viam currunt. invenies quippe homines bene viventes, et non Christianos. bene currunt; sed in via non currunt. quanto plus currunt, plus errant; quia a via recedunt.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

 

Waking Up

Thomas Mann (1875-1955), Buddenbrooks, II.2 (tr. John E. Woods):
Say what you like, there is something pleasant about waking of a morning in a large bedroom with lovely, cheerful wallpaper and finding that the first thing you touch is a heavy satin quilt; and it is exceptional to have an early breakfast in a room opening onto a terrace, with the fresh morning air drifting in from the front garden through an open glass door, and to be served neither coffee, nor tea, but a cup of chocolate—yes, every morning, a cup of birthday chocolate, with a thick moist piece of pound cake.

Was man sagen mag, so ist es etwas Angenehmes, wenn beim Erwachen morgens in dem großen, mit hellem Stoff tapezierten Schlafzimmer die erste Bewegung der Hand eine schwere Atlas-Steppdecke trifft; und es ist nennenswert, wenn zum ersten Frühstück vorn im Terrassenzimmer, während durch die offene Glasthür vom Garten die Morgenluft hereinstreicht, statt des Kaffees oder des Thees eine Tasse Chokolade verabreicht wird, ja, jeden Tag Geburtstagschokolade mit einem dicken Stück feuchten Napfkuchens.

 

Snorting

Alan Cameron and Jacqueline Long, Barbarians and Politics at the Court of Arcadius (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), p. 343, n. 42, commentary on Synesius, Egyptians, or On Providence 1.3 (92 B):
ἔρρεγκε, in Greek used for both the (properly) involuntary noise "snore" and the voluntary "snort." There can be little doubt that Synesius is inspired by Or. 33 of his idol Dio Chrysostom, an extraordinary attack on the people of Tarsus for making just this noise, a "harsh, disgusting sound produced by violent inhalation or exhalation through the nose," according to C. Bonner, "A Tarsian Peculiarity," Harv. Theol. Rev. 35 (1942): 2; cf. C.P. Jones, The Roman World of Dio Chrysostom (Cambridge, Mass. 1978), 73-74; G. Highet, Classical Papers (New York 1983), 95 n. 53. Dio goes so far as to claim that it is the sort of sound one expects to hear in a brothel (Or. 33.36). Bonner collects various other examples from the second to the seventh century (though omitting both Synesius's and Ammianus's account of the Roman plebs: "turpi sono fragosis naribus introrsum reducto spiritu concrepantes," Amm. Marc. 14.6.25), all cases where ῥέγκω or a similar word is used of a sound clearly felt to be utterly disgusting. According to Sophronius, a young man was deservedly struck blind for making such a noise in the shrine of Saints Cyrus and John (Mir. SS. Cyr. et Ioh. 31 (N. Fernandez Marcos, Los Thaumata de Sofronio: Contribucion al estudio de la Incubatio Cristiana [Madrid 1975], 306).
Gilbert Highet, "Mutilations in the Text of Dio Chrysostom," in his Classical Papers (New York: Columbia University Press, 1983), pp. 74-99 (at 95, n. 53):
ῥέγκουσι, 33.18. This is the only passage in pagan literature known to me where the sound of snorting or snuffling is given an explicitly sexual connotation. The verb, and nouns allied to it (ῥέγκος, rhonchus in Latin, ῥέγξις, ῥωχμός), are used of (1) snoring in sleep: Aesch. Eum. 53, Ar. Nub. 5; (2) the wheezing of persons stuffed with food: Clem. Al. p. 219; (3) a sniff expressing disdain and hostility: Mart. 1.3.5, 4.86.7; cf. sanna in Juv. 6.306, and see Amm. Marc. 14.6.25: turpi sono fragosis naribus introrsum reducto spiritu concrepantes. However, C. Bonner, "A Tarsian Peculiarity," HThR 35 (1942) 1-8, cites two passages from Christian authors in which snuffling or nasal speech and sexual perversion are clearly associated: Tatianus, Ad Gr. 22 and Clem. Al., Paed. 3.29.2-3. C.B. Welles, "Hellenistic Tarsus," MUB 38 (1962) 65-68, thinks Dio's denunciation is "a monstrous jest" designed to carry the true charge that the men of Tarsus were shaving their beards and neglecting philosophy. It is difficult to read the vivid description of homosexual behavior in paragraphs 52 and 63-64 (cf. Epict. 3.1) and accept Welles' kindly interpretation.
In my ideal Greek dictionary, if I looked up ῥέγκω, these discussions and others like them would be quoted in extenso.

See also Cécile Bost-Pouderon, "Le ronflement des Tarsiens: l'interprétation du Discours XXXIII de Dion de Pruse," Revue des Études Grecques 113.2 (2000) 636-651.

Monday, August 22, 2016

 

If I Were...

Cecco Angiolieri (1260-1312), Sonnets, LXXXVI (tr. Luciano Rebay):
If I were fire, I would set the world aflame;
If I were wind, I would storm it;
If I were water, I would drown it;
If I were God, I would send it to the abyss.
If I were Pope, then I would be happy,
For I would swindle all the Christians;
If I were Emperor, do you know what I would do?
I would chop off heads all around.

If I were death, I would go to my father;
If I were life, I would flee from him;
The same I would do with my mother.
If I were Cecco, as I am and I was,
I would take the women who are young and lovely,
And leave the old and ugly for others.

S'i' fosse foco, ardere' il mondo;
S'i' fosse vento, lo tempesterei;
S'i' fosse acqua, i' l'anegherei;
S'i' fosse dio, mandereil en profondo;
S'i' fosse papa, sare' allor giocondo,
Ché tutt'i cristiani imbrigherei;
S'i fosse 'mperator, sa' che farei?
A tutti mozarei lo capo a tondo.

S'i' fosse morte, andarei da mio padre;
S'i' fosse vita, fugirei da lui:
Similemente faria da mi' madre.
S'i' fosse Cecco com'i' sono e fui,
Torei le donne giovani e legiadre:
E vecchie e laide lasserei altrui.
The same, tr. Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
If I were fire, I'd burn the world away;
If I were wind, I'd turn my storms thereon;
If I were water, I'd soon let it drown;
If I were God, I'd sink it from the day;
If I were Pope, I'd never feel quite gay
Until there was no peace beneath the sun;
If I were Emperor, what would I have done?—
I'd lop men's heads all round in my own way.

If I were Death, I'd look my father up;
If I were Life, I'd run away from him;
And treat my mother to like calls and runs.
If I were Cecco (and that's all my hope),
I'd pick the nicest girls to suit my whim,
And other folk should get the ugly ones.

 

Destruction

Gregory Nazianus, Poems II.i.11.20-23 (Patrologia Graeca 37, col. 1031; tr. Carolinne White):
Everything ends in disaster: even good things are by time
outworn. Little or nothing remains,
as when the earth is swept away by heavy showers
and the pebbles are all that is left.

κέκμηκε πάντα, καὶ τὰ καλὰ τῷ χρόνῳ
κέκμηκεν. οὐδὲν ἢ στενὸν τὸ λείψανον,
ὡς γῆς συρείσης ὑετῶν λάβρων φορᾷ
κάχληκές εἰσιν οἱ λελειμμένοι μόνον.


I noticed a hexameter line consisting entirely of nouns in asyndeton at id., II.i.34.61 (Patrologia Graeca 37, col. 1311; tr. Carolinne White, except that I substituted shipmate for her comrade):
Shipmate, son, parent, brother, friend, wife, husband

σύμπλοον, υἷα, τοκῆα, κάσιν, φίλον, εὖνιν, ἀκοίτην
For similar examples see:

 

Response to Critics

Martial 1.91 (tr. D.R. Shackleton Bailey):
Although you don't publish your own poems, Laelius, you carp at mine.
    Either don't carp at mine or publish your own.

cum tua non edas, carpis mea carmina, Laeli.
    carpere vel noli nostra vel ede tua.
Gregory Nazianus, Poems II.i.39.68 (Patrologia Graeca 37, col. 1354; tr. Carolinne White):
If this is of little value, produce something better yourself.

εἰ μικρὰ ταῦτα, σὺ τέλει τὰ μείζονα.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

 

Constant to the Same Sweet Mistress

William Maginn (1794-1842), "Pandemus Polyglott," in his Miscellanies: Prose and Verse, ed. R.W. Montagu, Vol. II (London: Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, & Rivington, 1885), pp. 262-282 (at 263-264):
The Doctor, though a colossus of mind, has had the firmness through life to forego all those mundane advantages which his wondrous powers must have obtained for him had such been his pleasure; and as in early life he gave himself up to the allurements of classical literature, so with a constancy seldom rivalled did he in manhood and in age still does he adhere to the same sweet mistress. The fruits of this affection are manifold, as some forty MS. folios testify; but, while the Doctor lives, his intimates alone will have the benefit of their acquaintance; for he is far too chary of his own personal comfort, too sensible of his own dignity, to sacrifice the one, or diminish his own proud sense of the other, by trusting the smallest of his learned labours to the caprice or indifference of a world engaged for the most part in pursuits which he looks down upon with pity, and would regard, if he were less good than he is, with contempt.

 

Carpe Diem

Lorenzo de' Medici (1449-1492), "Il Trionfo di Bacco e Arianna," lines 45-60, tr. Giuseppe Baretti, An Introduction to the Italian Language (London: A. Millar, 1755), p. 453 (words in italics represent additions):
Let every one open well his ears to our song: let none feed himself with the hopes of to-morrow. Let to-day every one be merry, young and old, males and females: let every sad thought fall, let us still make merry. Let him be joyous who will; there is no certainty of to-morrow.

O Women, and young lovers, long live Bacchus, and long live Love: let every oné play, dance, and sing: let the heart burn with sweetness. Do not think of labour, do not think of grief: what must be, must be. Let him be joyous who will; there is no certainty of to-morrow.
The Italian, from Lorenzo il Magnifico, Poesie, ed. Federico Sanguineti (Milan: Biblioteca Universale Rizzoli, 1992), p. 178:
Ciascun apra ben gli orecchi,        45
di doman nessun si paschi;
oggi siàn, giovani e vecchi,
lieti ognun, femmine e maschi;
ogni tristo pensier caschi:
facciam festa tuttavia.        50
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c'è certezza.

Donne e giovinetti amanti,
viva Bacco e viva Amore!
Ciascun suoni, balli e canti!        55
Arda di dolcezza il core!
Non fatica, non dolore!
Ciò ch'a esser, convien sia.
Chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c'è certezza.        60
Id., tr. John Addington Symonds, Sketches and Studies in Italy and Greece, Second Series (London: Smith, Elder, & Co., 1900), p. 328:
Listen well to what we're saying;
    Of to-morrow have no care!
Young and old together playing,
    Boys and girls, be blithe as air!
Every sorry thought forswear!
    Keep perpetual holiday.—
    Youths and maids, enjoy to-day;
Nought ye know about to-morrow.

Ladies and gay lovers young!
    Long live Bacchus, live Desire!
Dance and play; let songs be sung;
    Let sweet love your bosoms fire;
In the future come what may!—
Youths and maids, enjoy to-day!
Nought ye know about to-morrow.
Id., tr. Stanley Appelbaum, First Italian Reader: A Dual-Language Book (Mineola: Dover Publications, Inc., 2008), p. 45:
Let everyone open his ears wide:
let no one be contented with tomorrow;
young and old, women and men,
let's all be happy today;
let every sad thought drop away;
let's celebrate constantly.
Let all who wish to be happy, be so:
there's no certainty about tomorrow.

Ladies and amorous young men,
long live Bacchus, long live Love!
Let everyone play music, dance, and sing!
Let each heart blaze with pleasure!
No weariness, no sorrow!
What must be, let it happen!
Let all who wish to be happy, be so:
there's no certainty about tomorrow.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

 

When the Criminals All Spoke Perfect French

Mohamed Choukri (1935-2003), Jean Genet in Tangiers, tr. Paul Bowles (New York: The Ecco Press, 1974), pp. 14-15:
He [Brion Gysin] went on to say that he had been rereading some of the books. I can't believe that man didn't have a classical education, he said. There's some mystery that he's trying to hide. His life is one of the great literary mysteries of the century.

I asked him how he thought it was possible for Genet to have had such an education. He said he had spoken of it with him, but Genet would never say more than that his entire education came from the thieves and vagabonds he happened to know in his formative years. Brion told him outright that he wasn't going to accept that, and added that he suspected he'd been brought up in a Catholic institution.

You don't learn the language of Racine in the street, Brion went on. And I wouldn't be surprised if Genet knew Greek and Latin.

I asked him how Genet had reacted to that.

No reaction, except that he got a bit pale, and looked very much astonished. Then he laughed and denied it. And he went through the same story as always. The thieves and the pimps. He claims it was a very special period that didn't last, the time when the criminals all spoke perfect French! No. You've got Genet the genius, and Genet the criminal. But there's another Genet, Genet the third, Genet the mystery man.
Cf. Rabelais, Gargantua and Pantagruel, II.8 (tr. M.A. Screech):
I see even today's brigands, hangmen, mercenaries and stable-lads better taught than the teachers and preachers of my day.

Je voy les brigans, les boureaulx, les avanturiers, les palefreniers de maintenant, plus doctes que les docteurs et prescheurs de mon temps.
Hat tip: Ian Jackson.

 

Americans and the Classics

Albert Jay Nock (1870-1945), "Rabelais and the Pantagrueline Spirit," speech delivered to the Faculty of Medicine at Johns Hopkins University, October 28, 1932:
I think Americans are peculiarly impatient about the classics of any subject. In my own line, I know, I next to never meet anybody who seems to have read anything that was written before about 1890.

 

The Day of Datylus

Erasmus, Adagia II iv 97, in Collected Works of Erasmus, Vol. 33: Adages II i 1 to II vi 100, translated and annotated by R.A.B. Mynors (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1991), p. 236 (adage misnumbered as 96):
Datyli dies
The day of Datylus


Δατύλου ἡμέρα, The Day of Datylus. When things have gone very well. Taken from a man called Datylus, who achieved the highest honours at Athens.
The Latin:
Δατύλου ἡμέρα, id est Datyli dies, vbi res feliciter successerunt. Sumptum a Datylo quodam, qui apud Athenienses summos est honores consecutus.
Mynors' note on p. 420 (where he has the correct numbering of the adage):
There is a famous fragment of the early Lesbian lyric poet Alcaeus (346 Lobel-Page), in which he calls to his companions: 'Let us drink! Why are we waiting for the lamps? Only a finger breadth of day remains.' This last phrase was, or became proverbial, and is in the collections (Zenobius 3.10, Diogenianus 4.13, Suidas Δ 28); but daktylos, finger(breadth), has become a proper name in the genitive, 'of Daktylos,' and in Zenobius the name is Datylos. The collectors then had to provide 'the day of Da(k)tylos' with a historical explanation which looks quite spurious, and Erasmus simply translates this.
But Datylos (or Datyllos) seems to be elsewhere attested as a proper name. See Diccionario Griego–Español, s.v. Δατύλλος:
Datilo héroe aten. IG 13.383.76 (V a.C.), SEG l.c., prob. el mismo mencionado en el prov. Δατύλλου ἡμέρα Com.Adesp.305, recogido c. otra explicación, prob. errónea, en la forma Δακτύλου ἡμέρα por Zen. 3.10, Diogenian. 1.4.13, Apostol. 5.86, Sud.
and Poetae Comici Graeci, Vol. VIII: Adespota, edd. R. Kassel and C. Austin (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1995), p. 101, number 305:


If I understand this correctly, Kurt Latte in his edition of Hesychius (unavailable to me) suggested that the day of Daty(l)lus may have been the day during the festival of Pandia on which sacrificial meat was distributed to the people.

I don't have access to Lobel and Page, edd., Poetarum Lesbiorum Fragmenta, but here is the fragment of Alcaeus (cited by Mynors) from David A. Campbell's Loeb Classical Library edition:
Let us drink! Why do we wait for the lamps? There is only an inch of day left. Friend, take down the large decorated cups. The son of Semele and Zeus gave men wine to make them forget their sorrows. Mix one part of water to two of wine, pour it in brimful, and let one cup jostle another.

πώνωμεν· τί τὰ λύχν᾿ ὀμμένομεν; δάκτυλος ἀμέρα·
κὰδ δἄερρε κυλίχναις μεγάλαις, ἄϊτα, ποικίλαις·
οἶνον γὰρ Σεμέλας καὶ Δίος υἶος λαθικάδεα
ἀνθρώποισιν ἔδωκ᾿. ἔγχεε κέρναις ἔνα καὶ δύο
πλήαις κὰκ κεφάλας, <ἀ> δ᾿ ἀτέρα τὰν ἀτέραν κύλιξ
ὠθήτω.

Friday, August 19, 2016

 

Wealth

Greek Anthology 10.41 (by Lucian; tr. W.R. Paton):
The wealth of the soul is the only true wealth; the rest has more trouble than the possessions are worth. Him one may rightly call lord of many possessions and wealthy who is able to use his riches. But if a man wears himself out over accounts, ever eager to heap wealth on wealth, his labour shall be like that of the bee in its many-celled honeycomb, for others shall gather the honey.

πλοῦτος ὁ τῆς ψυχῆς πλοῦτος μόνος ἐστὶν ἀληθής·
    τἄλλα δ᾿ ἔχει λύπην πλείονα τῶν κτεάνων.
τόνδε πολυκτέανον καὶ πλούσιον ἔστι δίκαιον
    κλῄζειν, ὃς χρῆσθαι τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς δύναται.
εἰ δέ τις ἐν ψήφοις κατατήκεται, ἄλλον ἐπ᾿ ἄλλῳ        5
    σωρεύειν αἰεὶ πλοῦτον ἐπειγόμενος,
οὗτος ὁποῖα μέλισσα πολυτρήτοις ἐνὶ σίμβλοις
    μοχθήσει, ἑτέρων δρεπτομένων τὸ μέλι.
Related post: You Can't Take It With You.

 

You Are Old Enough to Use Books

Erwin Panofsky (1892-1968), Meaning in the Visual Arts: Papers in and on Art History (Garden City: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1955), pp. 343-344:
However, even assuming that the future humanist was lucky enough to choose the right curriculum when he was thirteen or fourteen (and a recent survey has disclosed that of the million precollege students in New York City only one thousand take Latin and only fourteen Greek), even then he has, as a rule, not been exposed to that peculiar and elusive spirit of scholarship which Gilbert Murray calls religio grammatici—that queer religion which makes its votaries both restless and serene, enthusiastic and pedantic, scrupulously honest and not a little vain. The American theory of education re­quires that the teachers of the young—a vast majority of them females—know a great deal about "behavior patterns," "group integration," and "controlled aggression drives," but does not insist too much upon what they may know of their subject, and cares even less for whether they are genuinely interested or actively engaged in it. The typical German "Gymnasialprofessor" is—or at least was in my time—a man of many shortcomings, now pompous, now shy, often neglectful of his appearance, and blissfully ignorant of juvenile psychology. But though he was content to teach boys rather than university students, he was nearly always a scholar. The man who taught me Latin was a friend of Theodor Mommsen and one of the most respected Cicero specialists. The man who taught me Greek was the editor of the Berliner Philologische Wochenschrift, and I shall never forget the impression which this lovable pedant made on us boys of fifteen when he apologized for having overlooked the misplacement of a comma in a Plato passage. "It was my error," he said, "and yet I wrote an article on this very comma twenty years ago; now we must do the translation over again." Nor shall I forget his antipode, a man of Erasmian wit and erudition, who became our history teacher when we had reached the stage of "high school juniors" and introduced himself with the words: "Gentlemen, this year we shall try to understand what happened during the so-called Middle Ages. Facts will be presupposed; you are old enough to use books."

It is the sum total of little experiences like these which makes for an education. This education should begin as early as possible, when minds are more retentive than ever after. And what is true of method is also true, I think, of subject matter. I do not believe that a child or an adolescent should be taught only that which he can fully understand. It is, on the contrary, the half-digested phrase, the half-placed proper name, the half-understood verse, remembered for sound and rhythm rather than meaning, which persists in the memory, captures the imagination, and suddenly emerges, thirty or forty years later, when one encounters a picture based on Ovid's Fasti or a print exhibiting a motif suggested by the Iliad—much as a saturated solution of hyposulphite suddenly crystallizes when stirred.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

 

The Blogger in His Hermitage

Vergil, Aeneid 7.600 (my translation):
He shut himself up in his house.

saepsit se tectis.
Id. 7.619:
He concealed himself in dark shadows.

caecis se condidit umbris.

 

Practical Ideals

Thomas Mann (1875-1955), Buddenbrooks, I.5 (tr. John E. Woods):
"Practical ideals—well, yes ..." Buddenbrook senior played with his gold snuffbox and rewarded his jaws with a little rest. "Practical ideals. Nope, set no store by 'em at all!" In his annoyance he had fallen back into Plattdeutsch. "Trade schools and technical schools and commercial schools are popping up like mushrooms, and grammar schools and classical education are suddenly all foolishness, and the whole world has nothing in its head but coal mines and factories and making money. Fine, fine, it's all very fine. But on the other hand a bit stupide, over the long term—is it not?"

„Praktische Ideale ... na, ja ...“ Der alte Buddenbrook spielte während einer Pause, die er seinen Kinnladen gönnte, mit seiner goldenen Dose. „Praktische Ideale ... ne, ich bin da gar nich für!“ Er verfiel vor Verdruß in den Dialekt. „Da schießen nun die gewerblichen Anstalten und die technischen Anstalten und die Handelsschulen aus der Erde, und das Gymnasium und die klassische Bildung sind plötzlich Bétisen , und alle Welt denkt an nichts, als Bergwerke ... und Industrie ... und Geldverdienen ... Brav, das alles, höchst brav! Aber ein bißchen stupide, von der anderen Seite, so auf die Dauer — wie?“

 

Inspiration and Perspiration

William S. Heckscher (1904-1999), Erwin Panofsky: A Curriculum Vitae (Princeton: Princeton University, Dept. of Art and Archaeology, 1969), p. 7:
He said of himself (November 1946), "Every six weeks I have a thought. The rest of the time I work."
Hat tip: Ian Jackson.

 

Maid of All Work

James Henry (1798-1876), Aeneidea, or Critical, Exegetical, and Aesthetical Remarks on the Aeneis, Vol. III (Dublin: Printed for the Trustees of the Author, 1881), pp. 39-40 (on 5.118):
Ingens is our author's maid of all work—cook, slut, and butler at once. No sooner has Ingens put her hand to CHIMAERAM, than she has to turn and give a lift to MOLE; hardly has she despatched "Lausum," 10.842, or "Murranum," 12.639, when she has to attend to "vulnere" of each. It is Ingens who is put in requisition, 11.641, for Herminius's "animis," Ingens for Herminius's "corpore et armis." Aeneas's fame is nothing without Ingens; without Ingens Aeneas's arms, nothing, 11.124: "O fama ingens ingentior armis." Seville's famous barber was never busier: it is Ingens here, Ingens there, everywhere Ingens. Scarce a hero in the Aeneid but has something for Ingens to do. Sarpedon calls Ingens, 1.133, "ubi ingens Sarpedon"; Periphas calls Ingens, 2.476, "una ingens Periphas"; Polyphemus calls Ingens, 3.658, "monstrum informe ingens"; Entellus calls Ingens, 5.423, "atque ingens media consistit arena"; Bitias calls Ingens, 9.709, "clipeum super intonat ingens"; Pandarus calls Ingens, 9.735, "tum Pandarus ingens"; and repeats the call, 11.369, "et Pandarus ingens"; Turnus calls Ingens, 12.926:
                                           ... "incidit ictus
ingens ad terram duplicato poplite Turnus."
Aeneas calls Ingens until both he and she may well be tired, as 10.578:
"haud tulit Aeneas tanto fervore furentes;
irruit, adversaque ingens apparuit hasta."
12.441:
"haec ubi dicta dedit, portis sese extulit ingens."
6.412: "simul accipit alveo ingentem Aenean." 8.366:
                        ... "angusti subter fastigia tecti
ingentem Aenean duxit."
Nor is it only amongst articulating men Ingens is thus in demand. Serpents hiss Ingens, 5.84:
                            ... "lubricus anguis ab imis
septem ingens gyros, septena volumina traxit"
7.351:
                                         ... "fit tortile collo
aurum ingens coluber, fit longae taenia vittae."
Swine grunt Ingens, 3.390; 8.43:
"littoreis ingens inventa sub ilicibus sus."
Bulls bellow Ingens, 8.203:
"Alcides aderat taurosque hac victor agebat
ingentes."
Not only the whole hody, the integrum corpus, but parts and sections of bodies, no matter whether of men or animals, no matter whether alive or dead, hands, horns, mouths, eyes, beards, breasts, ring the bell for Ingens, as 10.446: "corpusque per ingens lumina volvit"; 11.556: "quam dextra ingenti librans"; 7.483:
"cervus erat forma praestanti et cornibus ingens";
11.680:
                                ... "caput ingens oris hiatus
et malae texere lupi";
3.635: "et telo lumen terebramus acuto ingens"; 12.300: "olli ingens barba reluxit"; 10.485: "pectus perforat ingens." Even the headless trunk shouts Ingens, 2.557:
                                ... "iacet ingens littore truncus,
avulsumque humeris caput, et sine nomine corpus."
Id., pp. 43-45:
But all this were tolerable, and so "ingens" is the activity and readiness on the one hand, and the patience on the other, of this veritable "serva servarum," that I doubt if one word of complaint had even to this hour reached my ears, however quick, as ears go, of hearing, if it had not been for the perpetual worrying she has to endure from the merest abstractions, airy nothings, buzzing about her, teazing her, and pricking her like myriads of midges to no good or purpose whatever, but out of mere wantonness and love of mischief. I could not tell you the names of a thousandth part of them, but gloria is one of them, as 2.325: "ingens gloria Teucrorum." Pavor is another of them, 7.458: "olli somnum ingens rumpit pavor." Argumentum, another, 7.791: "argumentum ingens." Pudor, another, 10.870:
                                        ... "aestuat ingens
uno in corde pudor mixtoque insania luctu."
Luctus, another, 11.62: "solatia luctus exigua ingentis"; 11.231:
"deficit ingenti luctu rex ipse Latinus";
6.869: "ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum." Metus is another, 6.491: "ingenti trepidare metu." Minae, another, 4.88: "minaeque murorum ingentes." Curae, another, 5.701:
"nunc huc ingentes, nunc illuc pectore curas
mutabat";
1.212: "curisque ingentibus aeger." Coepta, another, 9.296:
"spondeo digna tuis ingentibus omnia coeptis";
10.461 : "coeptis ingentibus adsis." Genus, another, 12.224:
                        ... "formam assimulata Camerti,
cui genus a proavis ingens."
None but a heart of adamant had worked any unfortunate biped in such a manner. Many a time I have pitied her, but small good to her a pity of which she knew nothing, which was not to come till two thousand years after; her only consolation, if tears and sighs deserve the name of consolation, was the sympathy of her fellow-servant Contra, who "non ignara mali miseris succurrere didicit"; poor Contra who—never required by previous master to do coarse, common, every-day work, but allowed to live at ease, only lending a helping hand when the ordinary household was insufficient, and hired by her present master on those terms; and as long as he was himself strong and hale and alert only employed in such manner, viz., in his first book three times; in his second book, twice; in his third, three times; in his fourth, where he was in his full prime and vigour, only once; in his fifth, six times; in his sixth, twice; in his seventh, four times; in his eighth, three times—has to put to her hand in his ninth book, where her master first begins to show signs of fatigue, no less than ten times; in his tenth book, where his fatigue is greater, seventeen times; and even in his eleventh and twelfth books, where he seems to have become conscious how unfairly he had been treating a faithful servant, and shows a praiseworthy desire to spare her in future as much as his own increasing infirmities might allow, as often as twelve times in the eleventh, and seven times in the twelfth book. Poor Contra and poor Ingens! as honest and kind-hearted as ye were overwrought, ye never complained, never thought either of giving warning or going off without giving warning, but stuck faithful and steady to your employer from the day ye first entered his service (1.13: "Italiam contra Tiberinaque longe ostia"; 1.103: "ubi ingens Sarpedon") to the very end of your engagement, when ye are still found hand in hand helping alike, and at one and the same moment, your master and each other, 12.887:
"Aeneas instat contra telumque coruscat
ingens, arboreum";
896: "saxum circumspicit ingens"; 897: "saxum antiquum, ingens"; 926:
                                           ... "incidit ictus
ingens ad terram duplicato poplite Turnus."
Farewell! hard-working, faithful creatures, farewell!

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