Cotta: CARMINA

Magna quod innumeris implere volumina rebus
    Pergis et immensam colligis historiam;
Quod reseras tulerint quos Itala regna labores
    Et quae vexarit Gallicus arva furor,
Quod mare, terribilis quas Thracius occupet urbes,
    Quae Venetus contra fortiter arma ferat,
Denique quod terras ferventia bella per omnes
    Prosequere, et scriptis terminus orbis erit:
Grande opus, et cunctis fuerit mirabile saeclis,
    Et qui perpetuet tempora nostra labor.
At, Sanute, oneri tanto succumbere virtus
    Nescia maiorem quem probat esse viro,
Cum fatum superes aeternaque saecula condas,
    Es deus, aut equidem te facis ipse deum.

Because you go on to fill great volumes with innumerable matters,
    and you gather an immense history;
because you disclose what labors the Italian realms have borne
    and what fields the Gallic fury has harried,
what sea, which cities the terrible Thracian may occupy,
    what arms the Venetian bears bravely in counter,
finally, that you pursue the fervent wars through all lands,
    and in your writings the boundary of the world will be:
a grand work, and it will have been marvelous to all ages,
    and a labor which will perpetuate our times.
But, Sanutus, a virtue unacquainted with yielding to so great a burden,
    which proves the man to be greater,
when you surpass fate and found eternal ages,
    you are a god, or indeed you make yourself a god.

IN PICTURAM URBIS ET AGRI VERONENSIS

ON THE PICTURE OF THE CITY AND TERRITORY OF VERONA

Cum sibi Sanutus Veronae grata rogaret
Palladia pingi moenia et arva manu,
Hac tantum tabula cari Dea pressit alumni
Pectora, et his fecit ectypon e protypis.

When Sanutus at Verona asked for himself
that the Palladian walls and fields be painted by a hand,
By this single panel the Goddess impressed the heart of her dear alumnus,
and from these made an ectype from the prototypes.

III

AD VERONAM

TO VERONA

Verona, qui te viderit
Et non amarit protinus
Amore perditissimo,
is, credo, se ipsum non amat
Caretque amandi sensibus
Et odit omnes gratias.

Verona, whoever has seen you
And has not immediately loved
With a most perditious love,
he, I believe, does not love himself
And lacks the senses for loving
And hates all graces.

EPITAPHIUM QUINTERII

EPITAPH OF QUINTERIUS

Me longe effigie venustiorem
Narcissi vel Apollinis comati
Parcarum Lachesis nimis severa
Isti Quinterium dedit sepulchro.
Cur non flosculus exeam, requiris,
Cum tantum fuerim puer decorus?
Tellus est nimis arida, o viator,
Nostri facta perustione amoris:
Sed si lacrimulis tuis madescet,
Forsan flos novus ibit e sepulchro.

Me, far more charming in appearance than Narcissus or long‑haired Apollo,
Lachesis of the Fates, too severe, has given Quinterius to this sepulchre.
You ask why I do not come forth as a little flowerlet,
since I was so comely a boy?
The earth is too arid, O traveler,
made so by the scorching of our love:
but if it will grow moist with your little tears,
perhaps a new flower will go forth from the sepulchre.

AD LYCORIM

TO LYCORIS

Amo, quod fateor, meam Lycorim,
Ut pulchras iuvenes amant puellas.
Amat me mea, quod reor, Lycoris,
Ut bonae iuvenes amant puellae.
Huic ego, ut semel hanc videre visus
Sese ostendere fixiore ocello,
"Quando, inquam, mea lux, mei laboris
Das mi praemiolum, meique cordis
Tot incendia mitigas, Lycori?"
Hic illa erubuit, simulque risit.

I love, which I confess, my Lycoris,
As beautiful youths love fair girls.
My own Lycoris, as I reckon, loves me,
As good youths love good girls.
To her I, when once I seemed to see her
show herself with a more fixed little eye,
"When, I say, my light, of my labor
do you give me the little reward, and of my heart
do you soothe so many fires, Lycoris?"
Here she blushed, and at the same time she smiled.

Ridebat simul, et simul pudebat.
Dumque molliculos colens amores
Simul virgineum colit pudorem,
"Quid negem tibi?" dixit, et capillum
Qui pendens levibus vibratur auris
Et formosa vagus per ora ludit,
Hunc secans trepida implicansque in auro,
"Haec fila aurea et aureum capillum
Pignus, inquit, habe meique amoris
Meique ipsius; hoc tuum puellae
Tuae pignore lenias calorem".
Hei hei quid facis? hei mihi, Lycori,
Haec sunt flammea texta, non capilli;
Sunt haec ignea vincla: ni relaxes,
Qui tanto valeam valere ab aestu?

She laughed at the same time, and at the same time felt shame.
And while, cultivating tender amours,
at once she cultivates virginal modesty,
"What should I deny you?" she said, and the hair
which, hanging, is made to quiver by light breezes
and, roaming, plays across her beautiful features,
cutting this, trembling, and entwining it in gold,
"These golden threads and the golden hair—
have, she says, as a pledge of my love
and of myself; with this pledge of your girl
soothe your heat."
Alas, alas, what are you doing? alas for me, Lycoris,
these are woven flames, not hairs;
these are fiery bonds: unless you loosen them,
how can I have strength to withstand so great a heat?

Anne ignem iuvat ignibus perire?
Comae flammeolae, subite flammas,
Crines igneoli, venite in ignes;
Sat me, flammea vincla, nexuistis,
Nunc vos solvimini et subite flammas;
Ussistis nimis, ignei capilli,
Nunc vos urimini et valete in ignes.
Hos meos age laetus ignis ignes
Perge extinguere, tuque flamma flammam
Exedas, mea corda quae exedebat.

Does it please the fire to perish by fires?
Flammeous locks, go under the flames,
little igneous hairs, come into the fires;
Enough you have bound me, flammeous bonds;
now be loosened and go under the flames;
you have singed too much, igneous tresses;
now be burned yourselves and fare you well into the fires.
Come, glad fire, go on to extinguish these my fires,
and you, flame, eat away the flame
that was eating away my heart.

At tu, sic reliqui tui capilli
Vernent perpetuum tibi, Lycori,
Quod tuos ferus usserim capillos,
Parce: nam volo amare, non peruri.

But you, may thus the rest of your hair
flourish perpetual for you, Lycoris,
though I, savage, have scorched your locks,
spare me: for I wish to love, not to be scorched.

AD LYCORIM

TO LYCORIS

Sive aliquid, seu forte nihil mea lumina cernunt,
Dixi ea te semper, vita, referre mihi.
"Stulta ego sim, dixti, si credam talia: amantes
Talia fallaces fingere multa solent".
Ergo non credis mihi? non mihi credis amanti?

Whether my eyes discern something, or perhaps nothing at all,
I have said that they, my life, always bring you back to me.
"I should be foolish, you said, if I believed such things: lovers
are wont, being fallacious, to feign many such things."
Therefore you do not believe me? Do you not believe me, your lover?

    At, formosa, oculis crede, Lycori, tuis.
Tu propius nostris tua firmes oribus ora,
    inque meis figas lumina luminibus.
Dispeream nisi, ut in speculo te te ipsa tueris,
    Sic oculi referent te tibi, vita, mei.

    But, beautiful one, believe your own eyes, Lycoris.
Do you set your lips closer to our lips,
    and fix your lights in my lights.
May I perish unless, as in a mirror you behold yourself,
    thus my eyes, my life, will bring you back to yourself.

Quod si ita sit, meritis tum tu des oscula ocellis;
Ipse, ubi mi libeat, dem tibi basiolum.

But if it be so, then, as merited, give kisses to your little eyes;
I myself, whenever it may please me, will give you a little kiss.

VII

AD LYCORIM

TO LYCORIS

Ne tua ne mea mi cane carmina, cara Lycori:
    Mi vox ista avida haurit ab aure animam.
Et vela faciem: me me liquat ipsa videndo
    Et trahit intentis ex oculis animam.
Et mihi conde sinum: istis dum paro pressa papillis
    Basia, mi rapiunt ore ab anhelo animam.

Do not, my dear, sing to me your songs nor mine, dear Lycoris:
    My dear, that greedy voice draws my breath from my ear.
And veil your face: merely by being seen it liquefies me, me,
    and it draws my breath from my intent eyes.
And hide your bosom from me: while I prepare kisses pressed upon those nipples,
    my dear, they snatch my breath from my panting mouth.

Nec mi ostende manum: illa mihi potis est aperire
Pectus et e medio vellere corde animam.
Et mi ostende aliquid: moribundo abit aegra mihi mens;
Nil video, cum te, lux mea, non video.
Quid tamen optarim ostendi mihi?

Nor show me your hand: that can open my breast
and from the very midst of my heart pluck the soul.
And do show me something: moribund, my ailing mind departs;
I see nothing, when I do not see you, my light.
What, however, would I wish to be shown to me?

quid tibi in isto est
Corpore, quo viso, non subito peream?
Tolle, precor, tunicam tantillum, et pascere ocellos
In pede languentes me sine candidulo.
Sed quid ego optavi mihi?

what is there for you in that
body, at the sight of which I do not suddenly perish?
Raise, I pray, the tunic just a very little, and allow my little eyes
languishing, to feed on the candid little foot.
But what was it I wished for myself?

paulo ante iste tuus pes
    Me incessu tenero dimidium abstulerat.
Quod si tunc imis e vestibus exeruisset
    Unum vel minimum forte aliqua digitum,
Linquere me cupide vidisses, me simul omnem
    Affusum dulci duice mori digito.
Verum age iam cane, lux mea; iam mihi, lux mea, totam
    Te retege, atque omnes mi face delicias.

a little before that foot of yours
    by its tender gait had carried off half of me.
But if then from the innermost garments it had put forth
    one digit, or even the slightest by some chance,
you would have seen me eager to depart, me at once wholly
    clinging to the sweet digit to die.
But come now, sing, my light; now for me, my light, wholly
    uncover yourself, and make for me every delight.

Nam si mors obeunda, inhians in te, mea, malim,
Vita, mori, vita est quod mihi amabilius,
Quam tristis desiderio tabescere amati
Corporis, unde miser sim et decuplo peream.

For if death must be undergone, longing toward you, my Life, I would rather die—
death which is to me more amiable than life—
than, sad, to waste away with desire for the beloved
body, whence I would be wretched and perish tenfold.

VIII

AD LYCORIM

TO LYCORIS

O factum lacrimabile atque acerbum!
Nunc certe lacrimaberis, Lycori:
Digna res lacrimis tuoque luctu.
Nanque lumina nostra, lumina illa,
Illa lumina, quae, Lycori, amabas,
Quae tuis solita anteferre ocellis,
Non sunt, o mea lux, amanda ut ante;
Non sunt lumina, sed malae tenebrae.

O lamentable and bitter deed!
Now surely you will weep, Lycoris:
A thing worthy of tears and of your mourning.
For my lights, those lights,
those lights which, Lycoris, you loved,
which you were wont to prefer to your own little eyes,
are not, O my light, to be loved as before;
they are not lights, but evil darkness.

Illa, ut impia fata te, Lycori,
Abstulere mihi, tuoque longe
Me a vultu voluere abesse caro,
In rivos abiere lacrimarum;
Quodque amarius atque praeter omnem
Lacrimabile cogitationem,
Quantumcunque habuere lacrimarum
Iampridem evomuere: nunc ad ipsum
Ventum est sanguinem, ab intimoque cordis
Ducto flumine, turgidi horridique
Sanguinem lacrimant miselli ocelli,
Et cum sanguine amata diffluit lux;
Ac sic enecuere seque meque,
Dum meum miseri igneum furorem
Quaerunt diluere et rigare mentem,
Heu mentem Enceladi Typhoeique
Aestuosa anima aestuosiorem.

They, when the impious fates took you, Lycori,
stole you from me, and have willed me to be far
from your dear face;
they have gone off into streams of tears;
and what is more bitter and beyond every
tearful conception,
however much they had of tears
long since they have vomited forth: now it has come
to the very blood, and from the inmost of the heart,
with a stream drawn, swollen and horrid,
the poor little eyes weep blood,
and with the blood the beloved light flows away;
and thus they have killed both themselves and me,
while the wretches seek to dilute my fiery frenzy
and to irrigate the mind—
alas, a mind more seething than the seething breath
of Enceladus and Typhoeus.

AD CALOREM FLUVIUM

TO THE RIVER CALOR

Ocelle fluminum, Calor, Calor pulcher,
Calor, bonarum cura amorque Nympharum,
Quem, caerulum fovens caput sinu blando,
Montelia secum amore vincit aeterno;
Dic, o mihi amnis conscie, anne nunc forte
Pulchra illa, simplexque adeo et omnibus felix
Soluta curis, mea Rubella per ripas
Tuas oberrat? et vel ex odoratis
Pingit corollas floribus, vel in densa
Sylva sibi suavi sopore blanditur?
Anne potius cum aequalium choro ludit,
Qua primum oriris ipse, quaque miscetur
Nitens nitenti Balnius Politinae
Tuosque laeti confluunt in amplexus?

Little jewel of rivers, Calor, fair Calor,
Calor, the care and love of good Nymphs,
whom, cherishing your cerulean head in her coaxing bosom,
Montelia wins to herself with eternal love;
say, O river, my conscious witness, whether now perhaps
that beautiful one, and indeed so artless and happy for all,
free from cares, my Rubella, along your banks
wanders? and whether she paints corollas with odorous
flowers, or in the dense
wood indulges herself with sweet slumber?
Or rather does she play with the chorus of her peers,
where you yourself first arise, and where there mingles
the gleaming Bath of Politina, gleaming with the gleaming,
and, glad, they flow together into your embraces?

Argenteumque pedem atque nuda formosos
Artus per undam et aureum lavit crinem?
Sic est: ibi illa membra eburnea atque ipsas
Papillulas beata frigeras lympha;
Atque inde, flammeo calore concepto,
Huc usque flammas in mea ossa transmittis,
Dum te subinde candidae memor nymphae,
Qua iam recepta Samnii tumes unda,
Samni et vetustas limpidus rigas urbes,
Exul, miser, suspiriosus inviso.
At tu, Calor, sic olim amoenus auratis
Dicare cornibus, arduusque Vulturno
Ferare victo, illique iam auferas nomen,
Fontem ad tuum recurre, dic meae luci
Meo te ab igne posse saepe siccari,
Meo nisi de fletu identidem crescas.

And does she wash the silver foot and the beautiful bare
limbs through the wave, and the golden hair?
So it is: there those ivory members and the nipples themselves
the blessed cooling water chills;
And thence, a flamy heat having been conceived,
you transmit flames into my bones even hither,
while, ever and again, mindful of you, O fair nymph,
where, now received, you, wave of Samnium, swell,
and, limpid, you irrigate the ancient cities of Samnium,
I, an exile, wretched, full of sighs, look upon you.
But you, Calor, may you thus one day, charming, be dedicated with gilded
horns, and be proclaimed towering, with the Volturnus conquered,
and even take away his name from him;
run back to your spring, tell my Light
that by my fire you can often be dried,
unless again and again you grow from my weeping.

Dic me amplius nequire tanta celare,
Nequire ferre vulnera ac mori semper.
Tum, si ipsa prorsus haud sit immemor nostri,
Si sors amara illi mea et fides grata,
Dic me libenter ferre quicquid est duri.

Say that I can no longer conceal such great things,
nor endure the wounds and be always dying.
Then, if she herself is by no means unmindful of us,
if my bitter lot and my fidelity are welcome to her,
say that I gladly bear whatever is harsh.

AD ANYSIUM

TO ANYSIUS

Ambo dulcia, ne verere, et idem
Salsa scribimus ambo, docte Anysi.
Scis quae, uti sumus uno amore iuncti,
Uno carmina scribimus libello;
Scis cervum quoque, quem sibi educarunt,
Suum ut Silvia delicata virgo,
Nostri filiolae boni Gevarae:
Ille tam cupide illa devoravit,
Ut omni sale salsiora et omni
Posses noscere dulciora melle.
O testem lepidum, bonique Anysi
Raram carminis approbationem!

We both write sweet things—do not fear—and likewise
salty things we both write, learned Anysius.
You know that, since we are joined by one love,
we write songs in one little book;
you also know the stag which they reared for themselves,
their own, as the delicate maiden Silvia her own,
for the little daughter of our good Gevara:
he so greedily devoured those things
that you could discern them as saltier than all salt and
sweeter than all honey.
O charming witness, and—good Anysius—
a rare approbation of a poem!

AD GEVARAS FRATRES

TO THE GEVARA BROTHERS

Ridete, o lepidi mei Gevarae,
Et vestri facinus probate Cottae.
Dum suae Anysius mihi puellae
Partem pernegat, hunc ego a puella
Huc in exilium ad Caloris amnem
Traxi blanditiis bonisque verbis,
Quasi ad delicias novas vocarem.
Hic hunc molliculum atque delicatum,
Probe testibus arbitrisque vobis,
Apici volo macerare in aestu,
Usto ut ore peraridoque vultu
Reversum tenera horreat puella.

Laugh, O my charming Gevarae,
and approve the deed of your Cotta.
While Anysius refuses me a share
of his own girl, I from the girl
dragged him hither into exile to the River Calor,
by blandishments and fair words,
as if I were inviting him to new delights.
Here this little soft and delicate fellow,
with you properly as witnesses and arbiters,
I want to soak in the sunny heat,
so that, with mouth scorched and face very parched,
returned, the tender girl may shudder at him.

Sic evenit Anysio, quod aiunt,
Tota perdere, tota qui requirunt.

Thus it comes to pass for Anysius, as they say,
they who require the whole lose the whole.

XII

AD ACTIUM SYNCERUM SANNAZARIUM
DE MINOIS REGIS IMPIETATE

TO ACTIUS SYNCERUS SANNAZARO
ON THE IMPIETY OF KING MINOS

Cum gravis imperio Minos agitabat Athenas,
    Legifer et populis iura superba dabat,
Nescio qua bili percussus, ab urbe poetas
    Expulit, et pulsos egit in exilium,
Infestos adeo reddens sibi crimine vates,
    Ut Musae hunc coeli sedibus eiicerent.
Ab Iove prognatum misere in Tartara regem:
    Tantum illi nocuit vatum inimica manus.
Nomen, crede mihi, sanctumque piumque poeta est:
    Huic quicunque nocet, se periisse putet.

When Minos, grievous in his rule, was harrying Athens,
    a Lawgiver, he gave to the peoples overbearing laws,
Struck by I know not what bile, from the city the poets
    he expelled, and drove the expelled into exile,
making the bards so hostile to himself by that crime,
    that the Muses ejected him from heaven’s seats.
From Jove begotten, they hurled the king wretchedly into Tartarus:
    so much did the inimical band of bards harm him.
The name “poet,” believe me, is both sacred and pious:
    whoever harms him, let him think himself to have perished.

Testis Pasiphae, veneris nova monstra pudendae,
    Aspernata virum foemina amica bovis;
Altera natarum testis, data praeda Lyaeo,
    Heu misera in solis ebria littoribus;
Altera privigni renuentis perdita amore
    Contempta accumulans crimina criminibus.
Laedere credideras sanctos, rex dure, poetas:
    Poenitet, at sero, te nocuisse tibi.
Dedecus hoc generi manet aeternumque manebit:
    I nunc, et vates, stulte, perire puta.

Pasiphaë is witness, the new monsters of shameful love,
    the woman, a friend of the bull, spurning her husband;
Another of the daughters is witness, given as prey to Lyaeus,
    alas, the wretched one, drunk on solitary shores;
Another, ruined by love for her refusing stepson,
    scorned, piling crimes upon crimes.
You believed you were injuring the sacred poets, harsh king:
    you repent, but late, that you have harmed yourself.
This disgrace remains to your lineage and will remain eternal:
    go now, and think, fool, that poets perish.

Est vati immortale et non violabile pectus:
    Hoc itidem sonuit veridico ore deus.
Namque ferunt dixisse Patris mandata ferentem:
    "Mortis in hoc puero non habet umbra locum.
Sic maneat, donec se animae in sua membra receptent,
    Rebus et exitium deferat ignis edax
Atque hominemque deumque in maiestate sedentem
    Extremo videat terra cruenta die".
Scilicet ostendit iuvenem, quo clarior alter
    Nec prior ingenio nec probitate fuit.

The poet has an immortal and inviolable heart:
    This likewise the god proclaimed with a truth-telling mouth.
For they report that the bearer of the Father's mandates said:
    "The shadow of death has no place in this boy.
Thus let him remain, until the souls are received back into their own limbs,
    and the devouring fire brings destruction upon things,
And the blood-stained earth sees both man and God sitting in majesty
    on the last day."
Clearly he pointed out a youth, than whom no other earlier
    was more renowned either in genius or in probity.

Hunc Heliconiades sacris docuere sub antris
    Et Charites Paphiae dulci aluere sinu.
Murmure tum comites sanctum implevere senatum,
    Mirati merito morte carere hominem.
Musarum pretium est aeternum vivere, nec mors
    In sacros vates arma movere potest.

Him the Heliconiads taught beneath sacred caverns,
    and the Paphian Charites nourished in a sweet bosom.
Then with a murmur the companions filled the holy senate,
    rightly marveling that the man was free from death.
The reward of the Muses is to live eternal, nor can death
    raise arms against sacred poets.

Gaude igitur, Syncere, tui saecli optime vatum:
Immortalis enim lux geniusque tibi est.

Rejoice, therefore, Syncere, best of the poets of your age:
for immortal light and genius are yours.

XIII

DE VICTORIA LIVIANI

ON THE VICTORY OF LIVIANUS

O quae alma grato carmine fortium
    Mori, Thalia, facta vetas virum,
    Nunc et per ora Livianum
    Omnium, et omne feras per aevum.

O you who, kindly, with pleasing song forbid
    the deeds of brave men to die, Thalia,
    now too bear Livianus upon the lips of all,
    and through every age.

Dic ut superbae contuderit minas
    Germaniae atque a Caesare barbaro
    Fessae tot annos imminentem
    Ausoniae arcuerit ruinam.

Say how he crushed the menaces
    of proud Germany, and from the barbarian Caesar
    the ruin impending upon Ausonia,
    weary for so many years, he warded off.

Nam quis, malorum heu heu veterum memor,
    Non expavebat, cum populos truces
    In nos remotis usque ab oris,
    Qua glacie riget Amphitrite,

For who, mindful—alas, alas—of ancient evils,
    did not shudder, when truculent peoples
    against us, from far-removed shores,
    where Amphitrite is rigid with ice,

Audiret armari, asperaque Alpium
    Iam vincere altis cum nivibus iuga
    Feris inaccessa, atque fines
    Undique iam populare nostros?

Would he hear that they were being armed, and that already they were conquering the harsh ridges of the Alps
with lofty snows, inaccessible even to the fierce, and already
to lay waste our borders on every side?

At Livianus in trepidis docens
    Audere rebus, qua violentior
    Vis hostium ingruit, citatis
    Obvius agminibus cucurrit.

But Livianus, in perilous affairs teaching to dare,
    where the more violent force of the enemy bore down,
    ran to meet them with quickened columns,
    moving at speed.

Ductore tandem hoc, scilicet Italas
    Videre montes insoliti manus,
    Tormenta, atque equos et arma
    Alpicolae stupuere Fauni.

With this leader at last, namely, the unaccustomed bands
    saw the Italian mountains,
    at the engines, and the horses and arms,
    the Alpine-dwelling Fauns were astonished.

Tandemque nostra impune nimis diu
    Bacchati in arva Theutones horridi
    Sensere in antiquumque robur
    Inque novum Marium incidisse,

And at last the grim Teutons, who for far too long
    had bacchated with impunity into our fields,
    felt that they had encountered ancient strength
    and had fallen upon a new Marius,

Cum caesa, pubis flos Alemanicae,
    Repente in alta valle Cadubrii
    Phalanx nives cruore tinxit
    Purpureo, rapidumque Plavem,

When, the flower of the Alemannic youth cut down,
    suddenly in the high valley of Cadore
    the phalanx dyed the snows with purple gore,
    and the rapid Piave,

Arx et recepta est; pectora militum
    Cum saeva nostrorum ardua non via,
    Non saxa, non arcere muris
    Terrifici potuere nimbi,

And the citadel too was recovered; the hearts of the soldiers
    since the fierce hearts of our men neither the steep way,
    nor the rocks, nor could the terrific storm-clouds
    keep them off, even with walls.

Cadente ahena fulminis in modum
    Contorta ab igni sulphureo pila,
    Qua terra subsultat nigerque
    Curil sonitu ferit astra fumus:

With brazen things falling in the manner of lightning,
    Missiles hurled by sulphureous fire,
    Whereat the earth up-leaps, and black
    Curil smoke with its sound smites the stars:

Dirum repertum, et ingenium male
    Sagax sacrumque, quo truculentius
    Nil invenire atrox Megaera,
    Saeva nec ira potest deorum.

Dire the discovery, and an engine malignly
    Sagacious and accursed, than which atrocious
    Megaera could discover nothing more truculent,
    Nor can the savage ire of the gods.

Sed cuncta praesens horrida temnere
    Dux acer urget; hunc sequitur cohors
    Secura, praesentemque mortem
    Magnanimo duce freta vincit.

But to scorn all present horrors
    the keen leader urges; a secure cohort
    follows him, and present death
    relying on the magnanimous leader, it conquers.

Dis cura nostri est; et Venetus pater
    Probe Latinae consuluit rei,
    Cum ius tibi omne copiarum,
    Liviade, tribuit suarum,

The gods have care of us; and the Venetian father
    has properly provided for the Latin commonwealth,
    when he granted to you, Liviad, the entire right
    over his own forces,

Corneliumque mox socium dedit
    Magno e senatu, cui sapientia
    Insignis ac fortuna avorum
    Scipiadum reparant honores.

And soon he gave Cornelius as a companion
    from the great Senate, for whom eminent wisdom
    and the fortune of the ancestors
    of the Scipios restore honors.

Non imperatorem ille queat sibi
    Optare, Mavors quem mage diligat;
    Non tu senatorem ferendis
    Consiliis animosiorem.

He could not choose for himself a commander whom Mars would love more;
nor you a senator more high-spirited for advancing counsels.

Vos nuper hostium unanimes feram
    Fregistis audaciam, ac pavidos patres
    Firmastis, ac suam attulistis
    Semianimis populis quietem.

You lately broke the unanimous foes’ feral
    audacity, and steadied the timorous Fathers,
    and brought their own
    quiet to half‑alive peoples.

Vos iam timebit barbarus, ac suis
    Pedem cavebit tollere finibus,
    Ni laeva mens est diique nostros
    Adcumulare volunt triumphos.

You will now be feared by the barbarian, and within his own
borders he will beware to lift a foot, if no sinister mind prevails and the gods
are willing to accumulate our triumphs.

XIV

EPITAPHIUM CANIS

EPITAPH OF A DOG

Caparion ego sum, quem vivum maxime amavit
    Liviades; tumulum post dedit et titulum.
Plura cani ingenue de se sibi non licet; at mi
    Nunc audita meo accipe de domino:
Latrantem me forte phalanx Germana per umbras
    Ut novit, de more affore herum timuit,
Et fugit trepida; at ridens ait una dearum,
    Quae ante Iovis solium ferrea pensa trahunt:
"Ne trepidate: semel satis est timuisse; neque illum,
    Quem fugitis, prius huc fata venire sinent
Quam Gallos male foedifragos demiserit Orco
    Et quisquis vexat barbarus Italiam".
Quisquis ades, domino haec referas, precor; haec quoque pauca
    Addito: "Amat te etiam trans Styga Caparion".

I am Caparion, whom the Liviad loved most while living;
    afterwards he gave a tomb and an inscription.
It is not permitted for a dog to say more ingenuously about himself; but from me
    now receive what I have heard about my master:
as a German phalanx recognized me barking through the shades,
    it feared, according to custom, that the master would be at hand,
and fled in trepidation; but one of the goddesses who, laughing,
    draw the iron weights before Jove’s throne, said:
“Do not tremble: once it is enough to have feared; nor will the Fates allow that man
    whom you flee to come here before he has sent the Gauls, ill treaty-breakers, down to Orcus,
and whatever barbarian vexes Italy.”
Whoever you are who are present, report this to my master, I pray; add also these few words:
    “Caparion loves you even across the Styx.”

AD NAUGERIUM
ET JOHANNEM BAPTISTAM TURRIANUM

TO NAUGERIUS
AND JOHN BAPTIST TURRIANUS

Iam valete, boni mei sodales,
Naugeri optime, tuque, amice Turri,
Vere candidi et optimi sodales,
Quos nunquam sat amaverim, licet vos
Quam fratres mage, quamque me ipsum amarim.
Quibus perpetuum frui per aevum,
Vota si mea Di audiant benigni,
Sit una ampla animi mei voluptas.
Verum dura necessitas repugnat,
Invitumque alias adire terras
Cogit, atque alios parare amicos.

Now farewell, my good companions,
best Naugerius, and you, friend Turri,
truly candid and most excellent companions,
whom I shall never have loved enough, though I have loved you
more than brothers, and more than myself.
To enjoy you forever through the ages,
if the kindly gods hear my vows,
may be the single ample delight of my spirit.
But harsh necessity opposes,
and, unwilling, to go to other lands
it compels me, and to procure other friends.

Vos ergo, memores mihi esse vestri
Fixam in pectore imaginem bonamque
Vobis partem animae meae relinqui,
Iam valete, boni mei sodales.

You therefore, be mindful that you are remembered by me,
that there is a fixed and good image in my breast,
that to you a part of my soul is left,
now farewell, my good companions.