Quintilian: DECLAMATIONES MAIORES

Qui in calamitate parentes deseruerit, insepultus abiciatur. Qui habebat uxorem et filium, captus a piratis scripsit domum de redemptione. uxor flendo oculos amisit.

He who in calamity deserted his parents, let him be cast out unburied. He who had a wife and a son, captured by pirates, wrote home about his redemption (ransom). wife, by weeping, lost her eyes.

filius retinente matre profectus vicariis manibus redemit patrem. idem in vinculis decessit. abiectus in mare et appulsus ad litus patrium est eiectus.

The son, with the mother holding him back, set out and with vicarious hands ransomed his father. The same man died in chains. Thrown into the sea and borne to the native shore, he was cast up.

vult illum sepelire pater, mater prohibet.

the father wishes to bury him, the mother forbids.

[1] Etiamsi, iudices, in hac asperrima condicione fragilitatis humanae, in qua nemo prope mortalium impune vivit, haec omnibus natura est, ut sua cuique calamitas praecipue misera atque intoleranda videatur, inter omnes tamen hoc constet necesse est, infelicitatem meam tantum ceteras supergressam, ut prorsus haec sit, quae fleri debeat usque ad caecitatem: quid enim passus sum tam leve, ut non comparatio mei felices aliorum etiam miserias faciat? grave est a piratis alligari, magis dicat hoc, qui sciat, quam cito capti moriantur: alligatus sum, sed tamen miser magis queror, quod solutus sum. indigna est impietas in suos: quae quanta versetur in hoc iudicio, videtis.

[1] Even if, judges, in this most harsh condition of human fragility, in which scarcely any mortal lives with impunity, there is this nature common to all, that each one’s own calamity seems to him especially wretched and intolerable, yet among all it must needs be agreed that my ill‑fortune has so far surpassed the rest that this is precisely the one which ought to be wept for even unto blindness: for what have I suffered so light, that the comparison with me does not make even the miseries of others happy? It is grievous to be bound by pirates—let him say this all the more who knows how quickly the captured die: I was bound, but, more wretched, I complain rather that I was unbound. Impiety toward one’s own is unworthy: how great a one is at work in this judgment, you see.

sed mihi hoc quoque querendum est, quod me et uxor nimium dilexit et filius. quid ego putarem in rerum natura posse reperiri, quod orbitate acerbius videretur? non contingit mihi, quod ceteris miserrimum est, filium efferre.

but this too I must complain of: that both my wife loved me too much and my son. What was I to think could be found in the nature of things that would seem more bitter than bereavement? It does not befall me, what is most wretched for others, to carry out a son to burial.

parum est, quod iuveni singularis exempli causa mortis fui, et, tam pretiosa redemptus anima, senex ominosus morte filii mei vivo, parum est, quod mihi luctum meum fluctus nuntiarunt, et aliud agenti patri subito ad litus orbitas appulsa est, quod miserum iuvenem toto iactatum mari, etiam si nemo interpellasset, sero sepelirem: adhuc supremo prohibeor officio, et, ne quid solacii contingat, perdo etiam maris misericordiam. inicit errantem corpori manum mulier et piratis et tempestate crudelior, atque, ut accedat dolori meo cumulus, quae hoc facit, uxor mea est!

it is too little that I was, for a youth, the cause of death of a singular example, and that, ransomed by so precious a life, as a baleful old man I live by the death of my son, it is too little that the waves announced my mourning to me, and, while the father was busied with something else, bereavement suddenly made land at the shore, that I would too late bury the wretched youth, tossed over the whole sea, even if no one had interrupted: still I am prohibited from the supreme office, and, lest any solace should befall, I even lose the mercy of the sea. a woman, more cruel than both pirates and the tempest, lays her hand upon the wandering body, and, that a heap may be added to my grief, she who does this is my wife!

[2] ne quis tamen erret ignotus: non est filii mei noverca, sed mater -- o facinus, o cladibus nostris mutata natura! -- mater ignem ultimum filio negat, et mulier, quae maritum quoque suum debilitata desiderat (quis hoc de ista credat?), filium non flet, funditus eversa fulmen hoc clademque non sentit. comparet dolorem: quanto minore causa excaecata est!

[2] yet lest anyone unacquainted err: she is not my son’s stepmother, but his mother -- o crime, o nature changed to our disasters! -- the mother denies the final, funeral fire to her son, and the woman, who even, though crippled, longs for her own husband (who would believe this of her?), does not weep for her son; though overturned from the foundations, she does not feel this thunderbolt and calamity. Let her compare the grief: by how much lesser a cause she was blinded!

Huius, iudices, poenae ab ipsa morte repetitae crimen ego sum: ego et ablegavi filium meum et infamavi, et, ne non accedat gravissimi doloris comes paenitentia, in illum mortiferum carcerem mersi. quo fato parentes miser sortitus est, ut illi vitam pater, sepulturam mater auferret? nam ut pietatem filii mei semel indicem: patrem redemit.

I, judges, am to blame for this penalty, demanded back even from death itself: I both sent away my son and defamed him, and, lest repentance, the companion of the most grievous sorrow, should fail to be added, I plunged him into that death-bearing prison. By what fate did the wretch obtain such parents, that his father took away life from him, his mother sepulture? For, that I may once indicate my son’s pietas: he redeemed his father.

si, quod ego redierim, uxor irascitur, reddat rationem, cur acceptis litteris meis fleverit. atquin miserrimus iuvenis quomodo magis temperare potuit officia? lex parentibus in calamitate ferre opem iubebat; uterque parens erat calamitate devinctus, unus autem succurrere utrique non poterat.

If my wife is angry at the fact that I returned, let her render an account why, upon receiving my letters, she wept. And yet, how could the most miserable young man more temper his duties (offices)? The law was ordering to bring aid to parents in calamity; each parent was bound in calamity, but one person could not succor both.

invenit tamen ingeniosa pietas et utrique subvenit dispendio sui:

yet ingenious piety found a way and came to the aid of both at the expense of itself:

[3] ipse venit ad patrem, me remisit ad matrem. hoc si defendendum est, agnosco partis meas: causam planctibus agam; flere enim certe per legem licet. alioquin diu laudare non expedit, diligenter defendere contrarium est actioni nostrae: ut impetremus funus, moramur.

[3] he himself came to the father, and sent me back to the mother. If this must be defended, I acknowledge my parts: I will plead the cause with lamentations; for to weep is certainly permitted by law. Otherwise, to laud for long is not expedient; to defend diligently is contrary to our action: that we may obtain the funeral, we delay.

dum nos litigamus, dum circa cadaver nostrum orbi rixamur, dum agitur causa defuncti, dum sepulcro lege praescribitur, dum dantur legitima dicentibus tempora, putrescit interim corpus, nec tutum in sicco iacet: cadaver ab incursu avium ferarumque tantum miserantium corona custodit. convenerunt etiam alieni parentes, totus in spectaculum populus effusus est, et ignoto quoque corpori publica humanitas quasi quasdam fecit exequias. deflent omnes homines, dolent; plurimorum tamen illa vox est: 'iuvenis insepultus iacet miser, nec patrem habet fortasse nec matrem.' iam hominis figuram vetustas paene consumpsit, iam lenta tabes in terram defluxit, iam soluta cute ossa nudantur.

while we litigate, while as bereaved we wrangle around our cadaver, while the case of the defunct is prosecuted, while for the sepulcher a rule is prescribed by law, while lawful times are granted to the speakers, meanwhile the body putrefies, nor does it lie safe on the dry ground: the cadaver is guarded from the incursion of birds and wild beasts only by a crown of those pitying. even strangers’ parents have gathered, the whole populace has poured out for the spectacle, and even for the unknown body public humanity has, as it were, made certain obsequies. all men weep, they grieve; yet the voice of very many is this: 'the young man lies unburied, wretched, and perhaps he has neither father nor mother.' already the figure of the man time has almost consumed, already slow corruption has flowed down into the earth, already with the skin loosened the bones are laid bare.

quamlibet duraveris animo, non ferres tamen ista, si videres.

However much you may have hardened your spirit, nonetheless you would not bear those things, if you saw them.

Sed audire certe potes. ille est filius noster, cuius spes ipsas amavimus, quem apud omnia templa et surdos votis deos superstitem precati sumus, a quo sepeliri optavimus, ille amabilis infans, ille blandus puer, ille iuvenis etiam ante hoc crimen piissimus, ille, dum par fortuna parentium fuit, propensus in amorem tui, mentior, nisi, cum peregrinatio mea nos diduceret, maluit esse cum matre. me per omnia maria volitantem, ut plus filio relinquerem, circumvenit saevius ipso mari latrocinium.

But you can certainly listen. He is our son, whose very hopes we loved; at every temple, and to the gods deaf to prayers, we with vows besought that he survive; we wished to be buried by him—that lovable infant, that winning boy, that youth, even before this crime, most pious; he, while the fortune of the parents was equal, was inclined to the love of you; I would be lying, unless, when my peregrination was separating us, he preferred to be with his mother. Me, flying over all the seas, that I might leave more to my son, a piracy more savage than the sea itself waylaid.

[4] describam nunc ego pendentem fluctibus carcerem et catenas macie mea laxatas et detritam lateribus meis consciam malorum carinam et obrutam perennibus tenebris feralis loci cruentam caecitatem? ista vero, si quid pudoris habeo, tacenda sunt. alioquin quis mihi ignoscet, quod vicarium accepi?

[4] Shall I now describe the prison hanging over the waves, and the chains loosened by my emaciation, and the keel—conscious of my evils—worn away by my sides, and the bloody blindness overwhelmed by the perennial darkness of that funereal place? These things indeed, if I have any modesty, must be kept unspoken. Otherwise, who will pardon me, that I accepted a substitute?

etiam scripsisse paenitet. o litterae fletibus tremulae, o parum alligatae manus, o dolenda uxoris oculis epistola! cur indicavi, cur scripsi quod uxor ac filius ultimum legerent, ut incertum sit, utrum me carius redimant an lugeant?

I even regret having written. O letters trembling with tears, O hands too little steadied, O epistle to be mourned by a wife’s eyes! Why did I disclose, why did I write what my wife and son would read as the last, so that it is uncertain whether they will redeem me more dearly or lament?

cognita clade rarissimi uxor exempli et prorsus talis filii mater totos efflevit oculos, fontemque illum perennium lacrimarum tantum caecitas clusit; si non tenuisset filium, vicerat. continuos inde planctus, incredibilis maestitia, assidua lamentatio ~fuit iuvenem nescio in me magis an in te futurum impium, si non redemisset quem tu sic desiderabas. ergo profectionem apparat, ut, quoniam reddere matri non poterat oculos, redderet virum oculis cariorem.

once the calamity was known, a wife of the rarest example and altogether the mother of such a son wept out her whole eyes, and only blindness closed that fountain of perennial tears; if she had not held fast her son, she would have been overcome. Thence continuous wailings, incredible sadness, unceasing lamentation—there would have been a young man, I do not know whether destined to be more impious toward me or toward you, if he had not redeemed the one whom you so desired. Therefore she prepares a departure, so that, since he could not restore eyes to his mother, he might restore to her a husband dearer than eyes.

sed videlicet est quaedam ultima calamitatium rabies, et novissime in furorem vota ipsa vertuntur. retinuit iuvenem et epistolis meis legem opposuit. o vanae figurationes et pectora hominum alto errore confusa!

but, evidently, there is a certain ultimate frenzy of calamities, and at the very last even the vows themselves are turned into madness. she held back the young man and set the law in opposition to my letters. O vain figments and the hearts of men confounded by deep error!

nemo illam non putabat timere de filio. itaque iuvenis, quod ad solacium pertinere credidit, commendavit amicis custodiam matris, substituit vici curae suae propinquos: neque enim aliter usque ad reditum meum caeca vixisset. quicquid humana ratio valet, contulit.

Everyone thought her to be afraid for her son. And so the youth, what he believed to pertain to solace, commended to friends the custody of his mother, and substituted the kinsmen of the village for his own care; for otherwise the blind woman would not have lived on until my return. Whatever human reason avails, he contributed.

si potuisset redimere oculos matris, qua pietate fuit, vicarios suos dedisset. ipse profectus est solo comitatus animo, nec se putavit ire sine pretio, quamvis ad piratas ferret inanis manus. dicat aliquis:

if he could have redeemed his mother’s eyes, such was his piety, he would have given his own as vicarious ones. he himself set out accompanied only by his spirit, nor did he think he went without a price, although he bore empty hands to the pirates. let someone say:

[5] 'adeo domi nihil reliqueras, adeo longa aetate sic vixeras, ut ne pretium quidem tui paraveris?' si hoc ita esset, testor deos, de redemptione litteras non misissem. fuit, unde redimi possem. iudices, fuit, sed illud totum filius matri reliquit.

[5] 'So then you had left nothing at home, so then you had lived for so long an age in such a way that you had not even prepared a price for yourself?' If this were so, I call the gods to witness, I would not have sent letters about the ransom. There were means by which I could be ransomed. Judges, there were; but the son left all that to his mother.

Navigat ergo per horridos fluctus et gementia litora et spumantes scopulos et quacumque miser relatus est inauspicatum metiens iter, prorsus ominose retentus, perversis etiam votis, qui optaret alligari a piratis, quos vitare quoque miserum est. quaerit haec omnia impius ille filius propter parentes, quod non praestitisset frater fratri, non uxor viro,(quid differimus ultra?) non pater filio.

He sails, then, through horrid waves and groaning shores and foaming crags, and wherever the wretch has been borne, meting out an inauspicious journey, altogether ominously held back, even with perverse vows, such that he would choose to be bound by pirates, whom even to avoid is miserable. That impious son seeks all these things on account of his parents, that which a brother would not have provided for a brother, nor a wife for a husband,(why do we delay further?) nor a father for a son.

Dii immortales, caeli, maris, inferorum praesides, uni mihi adhuc omnes male experti, vos tamen solos habeo testes, quam invitus redemptus sim; miserum me: perit qui sciebat! nam ut primum pervenit iuvenis ad piratas adferens redemptionis meae se pretium, e ferali navicula avidus exiluit vicarias oblaturus manus; stravit se ad genua singulorum, et, ut cupiditas fecerat blandum, obsecravit omnibus precibus, miserabili planctu et lacrimis paene maternis. nemo umquam sic, ut solveretur, rogavit.

Immortal gods, guardians of the sky, the sea, and the underworld, all of whom thus far have proved ill-disposed to me alone, you yet alone I have as witnesses of how unwillingly I was ransomed; wretched me: the one who knew has perished! For as soon as the youth reached the pirates, bringing himself as the price of my redemption, from the funereal skiff he eagerly leapt forth, ready to offer his hands in substitution; he prostrated himself at the knees of each one, and, as desire had made him ingratiating, he besought with every prayer, with pitiable beating of the breast and with tears almost maternal. No one ever begged thus for release.

nec sane difficile fuit impetrare a piratis captivitatem; maior illi pugna mecum fuit.

Nor indeed was it difficult to obtain captivity from the pirates; the greater battle for him was with me.

[6] non dignum illud spectaculum latronibus erat, cum pater filiusque de vinculis contenderent, et sibi quisque carcerem vindicaret: ego iam usu defendebam meum et in his annis iam maturam mortem asserebam; at ille contra: 'ego te in calamitate deseram? ego alligatum relinquam? Et quomodo ad matrem redibo, quae misera desiderio tui dies noctesque fletibus iungit, quae vivere sine te non potest?' non dicebat tamen omnia, et cum adsiduos planctus et inrequietas diceret lacrimas, adiciebat: 'iam paene caeca est.

[6] that spectacle was not worthy of the brigands, when father and son were contending for the chains, and each was claiming the prison for himself: I by now, by long use, was defending what was mine and at this age was asserting a death already ripe; but he, on the contrary: 'Shall I desert you in calamity? Shall I leave you bound? And how shall I return to mother, who, wretched, joins days and nights with weeping from longing for you, who cannot live without you?' yet he was not saying everything, and while he spoke of her assiduous breast-beatings and unquiet tears, he added: 'she is now almost blind.

fortasse, si redieris, videbit. in summa: non recedo; fas est mihi etiam invitis parentibus pie facere. non recedo; si perseveras, demus piratis lucrum: aut vicarius ero, aut comes.' quantum inter haec flevit, quamdiu cecidit oculos suos!

'perhaps, if you return, she will see. In sum: I do not withdraw; it is right (fas) for me to act piously even against my parents’ will. I do not withdraw; if you persist, let us give the pirates lucre: either I will be a vicar (substitute), or a companion.' How much he wept amid these things, how long he cast down his own eyes!

si perseverassem, duos excaecaveram. obstupuerunt pietate tanta etiam latrones, et per immobiles ante vultus fletus cucurrit. non tenuissent fortasse iuvenem, nisi redempturos parentes talem filium credidissent.

If I had persisted, I would have blinded two. Even the pirates were stupefied by such great piety, and over faces previously immobile tears ran. They would perhaps not have restrained the youth, unless they had believed that the parents would ransom such a son.

ipse in se transtulit ferreos nexus, et hilarior alligatus est filius, quam solutus est pater. supremum tamen et (nefas!) in aeternum me iam catenatis manibus amplexus, postquam mei cura discesserat, 'matrem', inquit, 'tibi per haec merita commendo: tu illam tuere, defende, ama, ne relinque. sic paria faciemus: illic tu eris vicarius meus.

he transferred the iron shackles onto himself, and the son was more cheerful bound than the father was unbound. Yet embracing me for the last time and—monstrous!—forever, now with his hands chained, after his care for me had departed, he said: 'mother I commend to you by these merits: you guard her, defend her, love her, do not leave her. thus we shall make things equal: there you will be my deputy.'

si haec feceris, non irascetur mihi fortasse mater, quod ab illa recessi.'

'if you do these things, perhaps my mother will not be angry with me, because I withdrew from her.'

[7] sic in navim filii mei male permutatus vector imponor, et qua visum oculi dederunt, ad piratas e puppe prospecto. curva litora et emensum sideribus fretum et turritos rupium scopulos retro lego. miserum me, quamdiu a piratis etiam navigatur!

[7] Thus I, a badly bartered passenger, am put aboard my son’s ship, and, as far as my eyes gave sight, I look out from the stern toward the pirates. I scan behind me the curved shores, and the strait measured by the stars that has been traversed, and the turreted crags of the rocks. Wretched me, how long there is sailing even under pirates!

mandata tamen tua, fili, perago: assideo, sustento -- immo mehercules tu assides, fili, tu sustines, propter quem mihi etiam huius propensior cura est: dum recedere ab uxore nolo, filium non redemi.

nevertheless, I carry out your mandates, son: I sit beside, I sustain -- nay, by Hercules, you sit beside, son, you sustain, because of whom my concern for this woman too is the more inclined: while I am unwilling to withdraw from my wife, I did not redeem my son.

At illum interim cotidie situs carceris strangulat, insidunt ossibus catenae; exemplum saeculi in myoparone moritur. mater, iam satis est: habes poenas super legem. sepelissent talem virum etiam ipsi piratae, nisi eos conscientia scelerum metusque poenarum ab omni litore arceret, quod unum poterant, secundis proiecere ventis.

But meanwhile the mould of the prison strangles him day by day, chains settle into his bones; an exemplar of the age dies on a myoparon. Mother, now it is enough: you have penalties over and above the law. Even the pirates themselves would have buried such a man, if the conscience of their crimes and the fear of punishments did not keep them away from every shore; what alone they could do, they committed him to the fair winds.

excepit mitior matre tempestas, et, si qua dici potest calamitatium felicitas, prospero cursu cadaver tantum quod non ad ipsa maiorum sepulcra depositum est. narretur res saeculo nostro diversa et nescio utra parte mirabilior: filii corpus matri maria rettulerunt, mater mari. magnam quidem partem agnosco culpae meae: ego uxorem adduxi, et, ne miseram matrem dolore fraudarem, ipse meis umeris adversariam meam usque ad litora tuli.

A tempest gentler than the mother received him, and, if any felicity of calamities can be said, with a prosperous course the cadaver was all but deposited at the very sepulchers of his elders. Let a matter be told, different for our age and, I know not on which side, more marvelous: the seas brought back to the mother the son’s body, the mother to the sea. I acknowledge indeed a great part of my fault: I brought in a wife, and, lest I should defraud the wretched mother of grief, I myself on my own shoulders carried my adversary all the way to the shores.

et sane ~adversus prima verba orbitatis animo aestimantem fefellerunt. quis autem non dolentis adfectum putasset, cum diceret defuncto filio mater: 'quid enim navigasti? quid maria ingressus es? quid piratas petisti?' nam illa quidem vulgatissima orbitatis vox est: 'fili, cur me reliquisti?' etiam cum tota supra corpus incubuit, amplexam putavi, etiam cum iniecit tollentibus manum, 'et hoc', inquam, 'solent facere matres, ut funus morentur.' at ista legem recitat et in cadaver fili perorat.

and indeed, as I, in my mind, weighed them ~against the first words of bereavement, they deceived me. For who would not have supposed the affect of one grieving, when the mother, with her son deceased, was saying: 'why, indeed, did you navigate? why did you enter the seas? why did you seek the pirates?' For that indeed is the most common voice of bereavement: 'son, why have you left me?' Even when, all of her, she lay upon the body, I thought her embracing him; even when she laid a hand upon those lifting it, 'this too,' I said, 'mothers are wont to do, in order to delay the funeral.' But this woman recites the law and makes a peroration over her son’s corpse.

[8] tace, tace, misera! ita tu istud optasti? sola scilicet calamitatibus nostris adhuc defuit culpa, ut, cum saevitia nimiae quoque felicitatis turpis sit, procedat inauditum antea monstrum, misera crudelis.

[8] be silent, be silent, wretched woman! Did you so choose this? Plainly the only thing that has up to now been lacking to our calamities was guilt, so that, since the savagery of excessive felicity too is shameful, an unheard-of monster should proceed—wretched, cruel one.

si quid irati dii reliquerunt, si quid infelicitas oblita est, suis manibus perdere cupiat. detracta est fortunae invidia, quando suo quoque iudicio mater post amissum filium parum misera est. lacrimas ipsas novissime perdo: inanis domi libitina plangitur, derisus dissignator redit, refertur rogus.

if the irate gods have left anything, if infelicity has forgotten anything, let her desire to destroy it with her own hands. The ill-will toward Fortune is taken away, since even by her own judgment the mother, after the son has been lost, is too little wretched. I, at the very last, forfeit the tears themselves: at home an empty Libitina is lamented, the derided dissignator returns, the pyre is borne back.

inter haec omnia non gemitus ullus matris, non lacrimae, non questus. putes adpulsum ad litus aliquem esse piratam. unde hunc illi animum?

amid all these things no groan at all of the mother, no tears, no complaint. you would think some pirate had been driven to the shore. whence has she this spirit?

si mala sua ideo non sentit, quia non videt, et hoc boni caecitas habet, eruat aliquis oculos meos. si tenebrae corporis affectibus non obstant, estne haec uxor mea, estne ille filius noster? liceat dubitare, si fieri potest, et sane vix iam dinoscendam speciem vetustas reliquit, sed adtritae manus et tumida vestigia vinculorum et testis longae captivitatis macies, infelicia argumenta, consentiunt.

If she does not sense her own ills because she does not see, and blindness has this good, let someone pluck out my eyes. If the darkness of the body does not obstruct the affections, is this my wife, is that our son? Let it be permitted to doubt, if it can be, and truly age has now scarcely left an appearance to be discerned; but the chafed hands and the swollen vestiges of bonds and the leanness, witness of long captivity—unlucky evidences—agree.

miserum me, certus luctus est: filium agnosco; uxorem non agnosco.

Wretched me, the grief is certain: I recognize my son; I do not recognize my wife.

Ergo quoniam de iure longior pugna, et nobis festinandum est, sint primae precum partes. adeste, universi utriusque sexus parentes, dum matrem in exequias filii rogo. per matrimonium te vetus et per mutuam caritatem, quae utrique nostrum magno constat, adice, per commune pignus, per annos pariter actos et beneficio filii plures, per meum in te obsequium, iam mei miserere, cuius soles.

Therefore, since the contest about right would be longer, and we must make haste, let entreaties have first place. Be present, all parents of either sex, while I, a mother, beg for the exequies of my son. By our old marriage and by the mutual charity which costs each of us dearly, add this: by the common pledge, by the years lived equally together and, by the son’s benefaction, more in number, by my obedience toward you—now take pity on me, as you are wont.

crede mihi, hoc, quod patior, carcere peius est, captivitate crudelius. mea ista poena est. quid tibi tantum mali feci, quid offendi?

Believe me, this, which I suffer, is worse than prison, more cruel than captivity. That punishment is mine. What so great an evil have I done to you, how have I offended?

certe ego te non reliqui.

Surely I did not leave you.

[9] Iam si totum adfectum in hunc consumpsisti virum, et omnis per oculos misericordia effluxit, tulerit sane filius noster merito poenas, dederit spiritum supplicio. nihil de praeteritis loquamur; quod postulavit Cicero etiam ab illo crudelissimo Siciliae tyranno: mors sit extremum. ~quod quidem cum permissum non esset, pernoctabant ante ostium carceris pretio redimentes sepeliendi potestatem [quid tandem hoc Marcus Tullius] patres matresque miserae.

[9] Now, if you have consumed all your affection upon this man, and all mercy has flowed out through your eyes, let our son indeed bear deserved penalties, let him give up the spirit to punishment. Let us speak nothing of things past; what Cicero demanded even from that most cruel tyrant of Sicily: let death be the end. ~since this indeed was not permitted, they would spend the night before the prison door, buying back for a price the power of burying [what then is this, Marcus Tullius] miserable fathers and mothers.

tu vende saltem, quod sub Verre crudelissimum fuit. certe ego filium redimam, nec mihi pretium diu quaerendum est: habeo manus.

you, at least, sell—what under Verres was most cruel. surely I will redeem my son, nor must I seek the price for long: I have hands.

Nihil moveris nunc, et debilitatem tuam iactas? singulare feminis exemplum ostendi narrarique desideras: sepulturam filii maritus a te impetrare non potuit. vade hercule, si libet, et corpus in fluctum repelle, aut, si parum celebri loco videtur abiectum, inice manum et, ne minus te satiet alienum ministerium, ipsa potissimum trahe<n>s alteram manum cadaveri impone, altera<m duci>; duc, qua frequentissimum rotis iter est et nigra limo via; proterat miserum onustum vehiculum et sanctissimum pectus ungulae rumpant.

You are not moved at all now, and you vaunt your debility? you desire that a singular exemplar for women be displayed and narrated: your husband could not obtain from you the burial of your son. go, by Hercules, if it pleases, and drive the body into the surge, or, if it seems cast down in a place not sufficiently frequented, thrust in your hand, and, lest another’s ministration satisfy you less, you yourself rather, draggi<n>g, place one hand upon the corpse, the othe<r to be led>; lead it where the track is most frequented by wheels and the road is black with mud; let the laden vehicle trample the wretch, and let hooves rend the most sacred breast.

ipsa, quoniam deficeris oculis, elisum caput et oppressa ponderibus praecordia manibus tuis pertracta; si quidem istis audeas, etiam dentibus lacera. litigamus, consistimus: in diversum abimus. nempe cum viceris, omnia paria habebimus praeter animum.

you yourself, since you are deficient in eyesight, with your own hands handle the smashed head and the precordia oppressed by weights; if indeed you dare with those, even lacerate with your teeth. we litigate, we take our stand: we go off in opposite directions. surely, when you have won, we shall have all things on a par except in spirit.

non sepelies? vide, quaeso, vide, ne, dum ligitas, harenam fluctus aggeret, iniciat humum misericors populus, obsta, si cuius clementia tumulum fecerit, effode, et, cum talis sis mater, aude indignari et exclama: 'magis amavit patrem.'

will you not bury? see, I beg, see, lest, while you litigate, the wave heap up sand, the merciful populace cast earth on him; stand in the way; if anyone’s clemency has made a tomb, dig it out, and, since such a mother you are, dare to be indignant and exclaim: 'he loved his father more.'

Cruces succiduntur, percussos sepeliri carnifex non vetat, ipsi piratae nihil amplius quam proiciunt. mater . . . quamquam hoc nomen profanari nefas est:

Crosses are cut down, the executioner does not forbid those struck to be buried, the pirates themselves do nothing more than cast them out. mother . . . although it is a sacrilege that this name be profaned:

[10] si perseverat esse filii sui noverca, ut hac crudelitate videatur digna, quae orbitatem suam intellegat, si ultra hostium adfectum, qui caesos acie saepe tumularunt, ultra tyrannos, ultra latrones parum habet non sepelire, nisi aliorum quoque officia praeciderit, et tantum quod non petita ex fluctibus aqua restinguit ignem, si adeo non genuit filium sed effudit, et illo infelici partu ingratum uteri pondus exposuit, licet inputet nobis, ut volet, quod tueri non potest, singulare mariti desiderium, dicam tamen quod sentio: excusatius odisset virum quam filium. quamquam in hoc mutuae caritatis affectu paria fecimus: illa oculos propter matrimonium neglexit, ego filium; vicem caecitatis orbitate persolvi. tamen, quod inter haec quoque mala privatim doleam necesse est, omnem illam, quam contraxerat, perdit opinionem: iam inimici triumphant, iam passim locuntur: 'illa exempli mulier, illa saeculi decus; virum redimi noluit nec filium sepeliri.'

[10] if she perseveres in being the stepmother of her own son, so that by this cruelty she may seem worthy to understand bereavement for herself, if beyond the disposition of enemies—who have often entombed those cut down in battle—beyond tyrants, beyond robbers, she deems it too little not to bury, unless she also cuts off the offices of others, and only just does not fetch water from the waves to quench the fire; if to such a degree she did not beget a son but poured one out, and by that unhappy birth exposed the ungrateful weight of the womb—let her, as she will, impute to us, what she cannot defend, the singular longing of her husband—yet I will say what I feel: she would more excusably have hated the husband than the son. although in this affect of mutual charity we have made things equal: she neglected her eyes for the sake of marriage, I my son; I paid the equivalent of blindness with bereavement. nevertheless, what I must also privately grieve amid these evils is this: she loses all that reputation which she had contracted; now enemies triumph, now everywhere they say: ‘that woman of example, that ornament of the age; she would not have her husband ransomed nor her son buried.’

Equidem, iudices, ut sentio, neminem non mortalium favere hominis sepulturae convenit, quia haec una res est, cuius exemplum ad omnes pertineat, ideoque non nisi ab ultimo parricidio exigitur poena trans hominem. etiam si qua sunt iura, quae obstent, si tamen angustus saltem detur accessus, per quem intrare humanitas possit, vera clementia occasione contenta est.

Indeed, judges, as I feel, it is fitting that none of mortals fail to favor a man’s sepulture, because this is the one thing whose example pertains to all, and therefore a penalty beyond the human is exacted only for the utmost parricide. Even if there are some laws which stand in the way, if nevertheless at least a narrow access be granted, through which Humanity may enter, true Clemency is content with the opportunity.

[11] sive omnis in defunctis sensus perit, et ad operiendam foeditatem subtrahendamque dolori materiam mortui viventium causa sepeliuntur, seu, cum ad infernas sedes anima migravit, unus hic luce viduis honos, et suprema face, ut vates ferunt, petitam ulterioris ripae stationem contingunt, quae vera esse et credo miser et opto cito iturus ad filium, certe rerum natura ut in generandis alendisque hominibus quae necessaria erant, ex se ipsa prospexit, ita, cum rursus opus suum resolvit, corpora nostra quam primum reducere ad principia festinat; ut desertis etiam locis circa cadaver tracta imbribus terra concrescit, adgerunt pulverem venti, et liquefacta multa die membra paulatim humus bibit, etiamsi nullus operit. at ipsa longo tempore in terram ossa desidunt. nobis vero adversus exanimes genuit non solum miserationem, quae cogitationi nostrae subit, sed etiam religionem.

[11] whether all sense perishes in the defunct, and the dead are buried for the living’s sake to cover the foulness and to subtract the material for grief, or, when the anima has migrated to the infernal seats, there is for those widowed of light this single honor, and, with the last torch, as the vates tell, they attain the sought station of the farther bank—which I, wretched, both believe to be true and wish, about to go quickly to my son—certainly the nature of things, just as in the begetting and nourishing of human beings she has provided from herself the things that were necessary, so, when she again unlooses her work, she hastens to bring back our bodies as soon as possible to the principles; so that even in deserted places, around a corpse, earth drawn together by rains thickens, the winds heap up dust, and the ground little by little drinks the limbs liquefied by many a day, even if no one covers them. But the bones themselves, in long time, settle down into the earth. For us indeed, toward the lifeless she has engendered not only commiseration, which steals upon our thought, but also religion.

inde ignotis quoque corporibus transeuntium viatorum conlaticia sepultura, inde iniecta ab alienis humus. facinus indignum! cum haec ita sint, sepultus esset filius meus, nisi incidisset in matrem.

thence even for unknown bodies a contributory burial by travelers passing by, thence earth cast by strangers. an unworthy deed! since these things are so, my son would have been buried, had he not chanced upon his mother.

Et haec, iudices, non ideo ego dico, ut adfectu iura corrumpam, neque vobis praecipio, sed adversariae exprobro. legem quidem istam quidni horream, cum id unum miserrimo iuveni sit obiectum, quod in calamitate non deseruerit patrem? sed quatenus luctus nostri in ius vocantur, et flenti disputandum est, et orbitati suae mater irascitur, superemus quam exorare non possumus.

And these things, judges, I do not say for this reason, to corrupt the laws by affect, nor do I prescribe to you, but I reproach the adversary. As for that law, why should I not shudder at it, since this one thing has been objected to the most wretched young man: that in calamity he did not desert his father? But inasmuch as our mourning is called into court, and, weeping, we must dispute, and the mother grows angry at her own bereavement, let us overcome her whom we cannot win over by entreaty.

ecquando duorum hominum miseriora vota vidistis, <quam> ut de his pater, si vicerit, filium suum efferat, mater, si vicerit, abiciat?

When ever have you seen more wretched wishes of two people than this: that, of these, the father, if he prevails, should carry out his son to burial, the mother, if she prevails, should cast him out?

Quae tamen lex est? qui parentes in calamitate deseruerit, insepultus abiciatur. omnis nobis in hac ~prius causa, iudices, de scripto et intellectu legis contentio est, utrum verborum ambiguitate an voluntatis fide standum sit.

But what law is this? whoever shall have deserted his parents in calamity, let him be cast out unburied. our whole contention in this ~first case, judges, is about the text and the understanding of the law, whether there ought to be adherence to the ambiguity of the words or to the good faith of the intention.

[12] pars enim diversa id nititur parentem fuisse in calamitate eam, quae deserta sit; cuius rei poena est abici insepultum. quid tum fuerit in causa, quid sit postea consecutum, quomodo legem intellegere conveniat, subterfugit dicere, neque a vestigio scripti recedit, sed nuda recitatione contenta est. nos neque omnibus personis neque omnibus causis scriptam esse legem, et iuveni iustas ac necessarias recedendi causas, et, cui rei semper ius satis plenum est, bonum animum fuisse, postremo non hoc esse deserere contendimus, atque eo causam demittimus, ut non sit absolvendus adulescens nisi etiam laudandus.

[12] For the opposing party relies on this: that she who was deserted was a parent in calamity; the penalty of which matter is to be cast out unburied. What then was at issue at the time, what afterward ensued, how it is fitting to understand the law, it evades saying, nor does it depart from the vestige of the written text, but is content with a naked recitation. We maintain that the law was written neither for all persons nor for all cases, and that the youth had just and necessary causes for withdrawing, and that—as to a matter in which the law is always sufficiently full—there was good intent; finally, that this is not “to desert”; and we bring the case to this point: that the young man is not to be acquitted unless also to be praised.

qui autem dubitat, an scripti voluntatem sequi conveniat, is mihi videtur quaestionem temptare ~incertus.

But whoever hesitates whether it is fitting to follow the intention of the written law seems to me to attempt the question ~uncertain.

Qua de re ideo pauciora adiciam, quod nobis quoque, si ita pergitis, adferet quandam cavillationem ista sermonis ambiguitas, ac videri potuerit omnem actionem partis adversae prima statim recitatione subvertere. nam lex cum dicit: qui parentes in calamitate deseruerit, . . . Rursusque cum dicit: insepultus abiciatur, non utique id significat, ut non liceat eum sepeliri, postquam proiectus est. quare aut mihi quoque permittite sic agere, quomodo volo, aut, quod magis vestram religionem decet, indignam sanctissimis auribus verborum captionem ex utraque parte praecidite, et, cum filium singularis exempli probavero, fortiter sentite nullam umquam a maioribus nostris poenam scriptam esse pietati.

On which matter I will for that reason add fewer remarks, because this ambiguity of speech, if you persist thus, will bring upon us also a certain cavillation, and it could seem to overthrow the whole action of the opposing party at the very first recitation. For when the law says: “he who shall have deserted his parents in calamity, . . .” and again when it says: “let him be cast out unburied,” it certainly does not signify this, that it is not lawful to bury him after he has been thrown out. Wherefore either permit me also to proceed thus as I wish, or, what more befits your reverence, cut off on both sides the captious catch at words unworthy of your most holy ears, and, when I shall have proved the son a man of singular example, think boldly that no penalty was ever written by our ancestors against piety.

[13] Atque in eo, quod primum proposueram, non ad hanc rem pertinere legem, non diu versabor, neque dubitatione, quam non habet, adferam moram. neque enim puto, si aetas inpediet infantem, valetudo aegrum, res legatum, dux militem, nihilominus obstricta crudelitas non accipiet rationem necessitatis, et cum semel apparuerit patere in eiusmodi causis defensionem, potero plane esse securus, nec timebo, ne teneri videatur filius meus, si non potuit omnibus succurrere, dum in ipsa lege occupatus est. pater alligatus est, mater caeca est; unus utrique filius; magna locorum distantia; habet lex in medio debitorem.

[13] And on that which I first proposed—that the law does not pertain to this matter—I will not dwell long, nor will I bring delay by a doubt which it does not have. For I do not think that, if age hinders an infant, sickness the sick man, business the legate, the leader the soldier, nonetheless an obdurate cruelty will refuse to accept the account of necessity; and once it has appeared that in cases of this sort a defense lies open, I shall be plainly secure, nor shall I fear lest my son seem to be held liable, if he could not succor all while he was occupied with the law itself. The father is bound, the mother is blind; one son to each; great distance of places; the law has a debtor in the midst.

duc ad utrum mavis, ad utrumque non potes, nisi hanc condicionem misero imponimus, ut, quicquid fecerit, proiciendus sit: si exierit, mater sepeliri vetabit, si remanserit, pater.

lead him to whichever you prefer; to both you cannot, unless we impose this condition on the wretch, that, whatever he does, he must be cast forth: if he goes out, the mother will forbid burial; if he remains, the father will.

Non puto fore dubium, quin ius in hac lege fuerit et mihi, nisi forte, ut omnia inique iniusteque conquiritis, hic quoque unius occasione verbi aliud putatis iuvare parentes, aliud non deserere, id est, de hoc dubitare vultis, utrum parentibus ubique ferri oporteat auxilia, ut ego aestimo, an vero non mereatur adiutorium, nisi qui praesente filio miser est. nam si deserere in calamitate nil aliud putamus esse quam a misero discedere, duo simul scelera permittimus: primum illud, ut etiam qui aderit, possit inpune nihil praestare, siquidem absolutus est hac lege, qui secundum miserum stetit. quo quidem modo non adiutores calamitosis parentibus filios damus, sed spectatores.

I do not think it will be doubtful that the right under this law was mine as well, unless perhaps—as you iniquitously and unjustly cavil at everything—here too, on the occasion of a single word, you think one thing is “to aid parents,” another “not to desert,” that is, you wish to raise a doubt about this: whether assistance ought to be borne to parents everywhere, as I judge, or rather that no one merits aid except the man who is wretched with his son present. For if we take “to desert in calamity” to be nothing other than to depart from the sufferer, we permit two crimes at once: first, that even he who is present may with impunity furnish nothing, since by this law he is acquitted who stood beside the wretch. In this way, indeed, we give to parents in calamity not helper-sons, but spectators.

[14] accedit illud vel gravius, quod, cum rerum necessitas cotidie nos dividat, si quaedam fortuna parentes nos deprehenderit, quamvis exiguo divisus spatio inpune opem non feret, non succurret, ut hac saltem se calumnia defendat: 'non reliqui, sed non accessi, neque pede, quod aiunt, uno a parente discessi.' solutus erit omni auxiliandi necessitate, quando vestra interpretatione absentia impietatis occasio est. hoc voluisse legum latorem putamus, ut natus ex nobismet ipsis in rebus adversis praesidium parenti labore atque praestantia solveret lucis usuram ubicumque, nisi forte non sumus parentes nisi palam. quid est ergo non deserere?

[14] There is added that, even more grave: since the necessity of affairs daily divides us, if some fortune shall have overtaken our parents and us, though separated by a scant space, he will with impunity bring no help, will not run to succor, so that at least by this calumny he may defend himself: 'I did not leave behind, but I did not approach, nor, as they say, did I depart by one foot from my parent.' He will be released from every necessity of aiding, since by your interpretation absence is the occasion of impiety. Do we think the lawgiver wished this, that the one born from our very selves should, in adverse circumstances, render to the parent a protection, by his toil and excellence paying the usury of the light wherever—unless perhaps we are not parents except openly. What, then, is it not to desert?

opem ferre, non deesse. omnia haec enim eo spectant, ut auxilio liberorum tuti sint parentes. quod cum ita sit, tam ad me lex ista pertinuit quam ad matrem.

to bear aid, not to be lacking. for all these things tend to this, that by the aid of their children parents may be secure. since this is so, that law pertained as much to me as to my mother.

Duo unum vocabamus; videamus, quo ire debuerit. poteram quidem fortiter dicere: 'pater iussi. hoc nomen omni lege maius est; tribunos deducimus, candidatos ferimus; ius nobis vitae necisque concessum est.

We were calling two one; let us see where he ought to have gone. I could indeed speak stoutly: 'as a father, I gave the order. This name is greater than any law; we escort tribunes, we carry candidates; the right of life and death has been granted to us.

si non fecerit quod iubeo, non deferam illum ad sepulturam.' necesse habuit parere: non deseruit, sed abductus est. crede, non contemptu tui venit in carcerem.

if he does not do what I order, I will not bear him to sepulture.' he had to obey: he did not desert, but was abducted. believe, he came into prison not out of contempt for you.

[15] sint sane iura paria, sedeatque medius inter duos filius iudex; non conparabo personas, quamvis apud omnes gentes plus iuris habeat pater. sit sane natura communis; non inputabo quod nomen dedi, quod familiam, quod inpensas, quod, dum illi adquiro, captus sum. non indulgentiae discrimen excutiam, de qua iam lite concessum est.

[15] let the rights be equal, by all means, and let the son sit in the middle between the two as judge; I will not compare the persons, although among all nations the father has more right. let nature indeed be common; I will not impute that I gave the name, that I gave the family, that I bore the expenses, that, while I was acquiring for him, I was taken captive. I will not sift the distinction of indulgence, about which in the litigation concession has already been made.

fuerint quidem ista facienda, sed ego ius meum reprimo. inter duos parentes [c]aecus adfectus est; exorabit qui prior rogaverit. tempore certe vinco: ante miser esse coepi.

Those things indeed should have been done, but I repress my right. Between two parents the affection is blind; he will win over who shall have asked first. In time I certainly prevail: I began to be wretched earlier.

tu adhuc integra es, ego iam alligatus sum; tu sana in domo, ego iam paene defunctus in carcere; tibi adhuc non opus est filio, ego iam rogo. nempe calamitas tua nata est post epistolam meam. nisi te flentem consolari filius voluisset, ante caecitatem tuam exisset.

You are still whole, I am already bound; you sound at home, I already almost defunct in prison; you as yet have no need of a son, I already implore. Surely your calamity was born after my epistle. Unless the son had wished to console you weeping, he would have gone out before your blindness.

noli mirari, si te gratia vinco: ante exoravi filium, quam tu rogares.

Do not marvel, if I conquer you by favor: I won over the son before you asked.

Si <se> quisquam figuratione quadam in hac malorum condicione iudicem ponat, fortuna quaeso absit, cuius tanta calamitas fuit. abstulerat quidem tibi oculos nimius adfectus, et de quinque rerum sensibus pars una cessabat, et tenebras, etiam salvis luminibus alternans, continua nox duxerat.

If <se> anyone should, by a certain figuration, set a judge in this condition of evils, let Fortune, I pray, be absent—she whose calamity was so great. Excessive affection had indeed carried off your eyes, and of the five senses of things one part was failing, and, alternating darkness even with the lights being safe, a continuous night had drawn on.

[16] maius est tamen malum, quod sic fletur. nam ut merito queri possis ablatas videndi voluptates, impeditos rerum actus, tamen, si non iniqui iudices sumus nec ambitiose miseri, sunt quae his mederi possint; referam non solum, quia vincenda mihi, sed magis etiam quia consolanda es. nam quando omne tormentum corporis abest, dolorque membrorum, qui totam cogitationem in se rapit, feliciter cessat, superest, ut cruciet nimium otium et assidua quies, res, si non sint necessitate, iocundae. nam visus damnum sarciunt reliquae voluptates, odor, gustus, tactus, auditus.

[16] Yet the evil is greater that is thus wept. For though you can with merit complain of the pleasures of seeing being taken away, of the conduct of affairs being impeded, yet, if we are not unjust judges nor ambitiously wretched, there are things that can remedy these; I shall set them forth not only because they must be conquered by me, but more still because you must be consoled. For when every torment of the body is absent, and the pain of the limbs, which drags all cogitation into itself, happily ceases, it remains that excessive leisure and assiduous rest be the torment—things which, if they are not by necessity, are delightful. For the remaining pleasures make good the loss of sight: smell, taste, touch, hearing.

quibus tamenetsi deesse summam fatendum est, non est tamen maximae calamitatis loco numeranda parum plena felicitas. domus certe propria lectusque genialis, conventus propinquorum, sermo amicorum, ipsa (quod raro contingit) honesta calamitas et in quacumque fortuna beata libertas. tot voluptates obruere possunt unum dolorem.

to which, although it must be confessed that the perfection is lacking, yet a felicity a little less than full is not to be numbered in the place of the greatest calamity. certainly one’s own house and the nuptial bed, the gathering of kinsfolk, the conversation of friends, the calamity itself (which rarely happens) honorable, and, in whatever fortune, blessed liberty—so many pleasures can overwhelm a single grief.

nam lucis desiderium, si malis meis compares, etiam delicatum est. num enim aliquid rerum natura genitura est spectaculo nostro novum, ac non, quicquid speciosissimum pulcherrimumque visuri sumus, vidimus? [tenebrae] nempe cotidie nox oritur, et aequam temporum portionem involvit obscuritas, et ex parte sui ipsa quodammodo caeca natura est.

for the desire of light, if you compare it with my misfortunes, is even delicate. For will the nature of things beget anything new for our spectacle, and is it not the case that whatever most splendid and most beautiful we are going to see, we have seen? [darkness] indeed every day night arises, and obscurity envelops an equal portion of times, and in part of itself nature herself is in a certain way blind.

cui alienis oculis uti licet, audire, imperare, cuius ministeriis officia non desunt (non enim defuerunt), nisi se erigit et fortunae suae rationem reddit, et praesertim in tam bona caecitatis conscientia, animi vitio miser est.

he to whom it is permitted to use others’ eyes, to hear, to command, for whom by the ministrations of others the offices are not lacking (for they have not, in fact, been lacking), unless he lifts himself up and renders a reckoning of his fortune, and especially with so good a conscience of his blindness, is wretched by a vice of mind.

[17] non debet dolere quispiam, qui potest gloriari.

[17] No one ought to grieve who can glory.

Quamquam cuiuslibet et quacumque causa hunc incursum passae levius est tamen malum feminae: non enim navigatis, non legationem obitis, non frequenti peregrinatione variatis aspectus, non militaris vos, non forensis ratio deducit. alioquin semper estis intra domum, uno plurimum loco levibus officiis adfixae. tuum quidem adfectum si bene novi, nulla magis causa caecitatem doluisti, quam quod ad redimendum maritum ire non posses.

Although for anyone, and from whatever cause, having suffered this incursion, yet the evil is lighter for a woman: for you do not navigate, you do not go on a legation, you do not vary your views by frequent peregrination, neither a military nor a forensic regimen leads you forth. Otherwise you are always within the house, affixed to one place at the most, with light offices. As for your own affect, if I know it well, for no cause did you grieve the blindness more than that you could not go to redeem your husband.

Haec tua calamitas erat; aestimemus meam. nulli quidem gravior visa est quam tibi, audi tamen, quam multa in illis epistolis non scripserim. o fili, in quibus te malis reliqui!

This was your calamity; let us estimate mine. To none indeed did it seem heavier than to you; yet listen, how many things I did not write in those letters. O son, in what evils I left you!

iam illa principalis ac maxima dono deum concessa libertas, nec hominum solum sed ferarum volucrumque sensibus fixa et ingenita, primum spolium fuit: me ipse perdidi, teneor venale mancipium, et civis Romanus merces fio, et libertatem senex dedisco, et natus ingenuus venire opto. minimum est: habitamus in fluctibus, hiberni nos ferunt venti; non statio, non sedes, non quies, sed, quod malorum meorum maxima portio est, tam miseri sunt etiam domini mei. cito praetereunda est memoria propter me uxori gravis, mihi propter filium.

Now that principal and greatest liberty, granted by the gift of the gods, fixed and inborn in the senses not of men only but of beasts and birds as well, was the first spoil: I have lost myself, I am held as a saleable chattel, and I, a Roman citizen, become merchandise, and as an old man I unlearn liberty, and, born freeborn, I desire to be sold. That is the least: we dwell upon the waves, the winter winds carry us; no anchorage, no seat, no rest; but, which is the greatest portion of my evils, even my masters are so wretched. The recollection must quickly be passed over, grievous to my wife on my account, to me on account of my son.

[18] transeo hirsutos hostium vultus et immanium barbarorum feros fremitus, tantumque mihi cotidie esse metuendum, quantum pati captus, audere pirata potuisset. nihil est desiderio suorum gravius; timui, ne quem ex meis viderem. nihil tempestate minacius; cotidie naufragium optavi.

[18] I pass over the hirsute faces of the enemy and the feral rumblings of monstrous barbarians, and that I had every day so much to dread as a captive could have to endure, as much as a pirate could have dared. Nothing is graver than longing for one’s own; I feared lest I should see any one of my people. Nothing is more menacing than the tempest; every day I wished for shipwreck.

nam mortem, confiteor, senili inertia una causa minus cupiebam: ne defunctum nemo sepeliret. quam vestem relictam captivo putas, nisi quae praeda non erat? quales epulas cibosque praebent, qui ipsi rapto vivunt?

for death, I confess, through senile inertia there was one cause I desired it less: lest, when deceased, no one should bury me. what garment do you suppose is left to a captive, except what was not booty? what sort of banquets and foods do they provide, who themselves live by rapine?

nam illa quidem satis digne quis dixerit, udum carcerem et inundata sentina vincula et impositum nuda trabe inrequietum latus, revinctas pone tergum manus, alligatos, tamquam esset, qua fugeremus, pedes? solae in carcere tenebrae iuvabant. saepe de auribus questus sum, quae sonum flagellorum gemitumque caesorum quamvis impexis obrutae comis acciperent, dira metus sui exempla.

for who indeed could speak worthily enough of those things: the wet prison and the chains in the inundated bilge, and a restless side laid upon a bare beam, the hands bound behind the back, the feet tied, as though there were some way by which we might flee? the only thing in the prison that helped was the darkness. often I complained of my ears, which, though buried under uncombed hair, received the sound of scourges and the groan of the beaten—dreadful examples of fear itself.

miserum me, fili: nempe morbo peristi. compara terram mari, domum navi, lectulum carceri, libertatem servituti, desiderium oculorum totius corporis damno. quo nos longius ducit calamitatium nostrarum misera contentio?

Wretched me, my son: surely you perished of disease. Compare land to sea, home to a ship, the little bed to a prison, freedom to servitude, the desire of the eyes to the loss of the whole body. Whither does the wretched contention of our calamities lead us farther?

caeci etiam litigare possunt, captivi nec vivere.

Even the blind can litigate; captives cannot even live.

[19] Verum haec etiamsi in aequo ponerentur, multum tamen in alteram partem debuisset habere momenti, quod plus mihi potera[n]t prodesse quam tibi. eo labori oportet incumbere, ubi effectus promittitur; stulta cura est, quae spem non habet. ego redimi poteram, tu sanari non poteras.

[19] But even if these things were put on an equal footing, nevertheless it ought to have had much weight on the other side, that they could benefit me more than you. One ought to apply oneself to that labor where an effect is promised; a foolish concern is that which has no hope. I could be ransomed; you could not be healed.

qualiscumque ista calamitas, inemendabilis cecidit; non remedium accipere, non vicarium potest. adsedisset scilicet lectulo inefficax sedulitas et acceptis epistolis meis iuvenis filius nihil aliud quam cum matre flevisset? quia profectus est, alterius tamen parentis calamitas emendata est.

Whatever sort the calamity is, it has fallen unamendable; it can accept neither a remedy nor a substitute. To be sure, ineffectual sedulity would have sat by the little bed, and, my letters having been received, the young son would have done nothing other than weep with his mother? Because he set out, nevertheless the calamity of the other parent has been amended.

si remansisset, et matrem caecam haberet et patrem captivum. adice eo quod tibi non necessaria filii praesentia fuit; adsidere enim, cibos ministrare, manum porrigere quilibet poterat; mentior, nisi factum est. me ab illis captum tam dura condicione venalem, quod utique in confessione est, nemo alius redemisset quam filius meus.

if he had remained, he would have had both a blind mother and a captive father. Add to this that the presence of the son was not necessary for you; for to sit beside, to minister food, to extend a hand, anyone could do; I speak falsely, unless it was actually done. Me, taken by them and put up for sale on so harsh a condition—which, in any case, is in confession (i.e., acknowledged)—no one other than my son would have ransomed.

Et ego sic ago, tamquam hoc tantum filius propter me fecerit. quamquam in hoc litigatu quodammodo tibi ipsa excidisti, et, tamquam id agas, ut merita tua iniuria vincas, novum induisti rigorem, non prohibeo tamen testimonium: ad redemptionem meam filium ipsa misisti, cum sic plangeres, cum mortem precareris, cum te omni viduatam voluptate clamares, cum saepius gemeres captivitatem meam quam caecitatem tuam. non erat illi ferreum pectus nec cor silice concretum, ut haec pati posset aequo animo.

And I proceed thus, as though my son had done only this for me. Although in this litigation you yourself have in a manner failed yourself, and, as if you were aiming to conquer your merits by injustice, you have put on a new rigor, I do not forbid, however, the testimony: you yourself sent the son for my redemption, while you were lamenting thus, while you were praying for death, while you were crying out that you were bereft of all delight, while you were groaning more often over my captivity than your own blindness. He did not have an iron breast nor a heart concreted with flint, so as to be able to endure these things with equanimity.

tu filium prima docuisti sibi non parcere. potius quam plus flere<s>, potius quam ipsam rescindere<s> caecitatem, profectus est, maritum tibi reddidit.

You were the first to teach your son not to spare himself. Rather than weep more, rather than rescind your very blindness, he set out and restored your husband to you.

[20] o crimen grave! si hoc ante fecisset, videres.

[20] o grave crime! if he had done this earlier, you would see.

At retinere non potuisti. non dicam tibi: habet pietas impetum suum, nec ullum dominum novit adfectus. nec ille potuit te retinere, ne fleres.

But you were not able to hold him back. I will not say to you: piety has its own impulse, and affection knows no master. nor could he hold you back, so that you would not weep.

audi quod est verius: aliud putavit. non erat credibile obstare te redemptioni meae. interpretatus est maternum metum, et maris domui nostrae male experti periculum credidit.

hear what is truer: he thought something else. it was not credible that you were obstructing my redemption. he interpreted a maternal fear, and he credited the peril of the sea, ill-experienced by our house.

iuvenis nisi tibi non paruisset, nemo non vos putasset colludere. ceterum me poterat non redimere, cum tu clamares: 'caeca sum, oculos desiderio viri perdidi, solitudinem ferre non possum'? ita ille ad redemptionem meam excusatius profectus esset, si me minus desiderasses? dubitabitur, an tua causa fecerit?

If the young man had obeyed you, everyone would have thought you were colluding. Moreover, he could have chosen not to redeem me, while you were shouting: ‘I am blind, I have lost my eyes through desire for my husband, I cannot bear solitude’? Thus, would he have set out for my redemption more excusably, if you had desired me less? Will there be doubt whether he did it for your sake?

et filium et virum habere non poteras; reddidit tibi quem magis amabas. siste iam lacrimas, maritum reducem, incolumem accipe. quid irasceris, quae tanta mutatio est?

you could not have both a son and a husband; he has given back to you the one you loved more. stay now your tears; receive your husband returned, unharmed. why are you angry, what so great a change is there?

quis hoc crederet? quereris discessisse quem odisti, cum eum nolis redisse quem diligis.

Who would believe this? You complain that the one whom you hate has departed, while you do not wish the one whom you love to have returned.

Atquin si, ut supra probavimus, is parentes in calamitate deserit, qui opem non fert, et, ut nunc ostendemus, optimus filius corpore suo adiutoria matri redemit, profecto opem tulit, id est, non deseruit, nam si, ut ante dixi, ne vestigio quidem abisse a miseris licet, ne ipsorum quidem causa, qui adiuvantur, discedere fas erit, nec cibos saltem petere aut alia usibus necessaria parare continget. si vero, dum adiuvatur parens, nihil refert, ubi sit ille, qui adiuvat, quia praesens cura exhibetur, quidquid tibi ego praestiti ad auctorem muneris, id est, ad redemptorem meum, transferendum est. non assedi, non consolatus sum, non ministravi, non <opem> tuli, non denique totus tibi redivi?

But indeed, if, as we have proved above, he deserts his parents in calamity who does not bring aid, and, as we shall now show, the best son redeemed aids for his mother with his own body, assuredly he did bring aid, that is, he did not desert; for if, as I said before, it is not permitted to have gone away not even by a footprint from the wretched, it will not be lawful to depart even for the sake of those very persons who are helped, nor will it befall even to seek food or to procure other things necessary for use. But if, while the parent is being helped, it matters nothing where he is who helps, because present care is exhibited, whatever I have rendered to you must be transferred to the author of the benefaction, that is, to my redeemer. Did I not sit by, did I not console, did I not minister, did I not bring <help>, did I not, finally, wholly return to you?

[21] verum fatendum est: si desertam te putas, mea culpa est.

[21] But it must be confessed: if you think yourself deserted, it is my fault.

Sed iam tempus est ista, quae non excusata debent videri, verum pulchra atque magnifica, animo maiore defendere et, cum iudicium agatur exempli, tandem causam suam intellegere, hoc saltem habebis, miserrime fili, quod honoratis contingere funeribus solet: defunctus laudaberis. omnia licet huc revocemus praeterita, et ad canendas unius laudes universorum vatum scriptorumque ora consentiant, vincet tamen res ista mille linguas, ipsamque, si sit aliqua corpore uno, facundiam materia superabit, etiamsi nihil dixero, nisi quod obiectum est. lucem libertatemque patri filius reddidit, et, quod ante inauditum est, magis me amavit quam vellem.

But now it is time to defend, with a greater spirit, those deeds which ought to seem not excused, but truly beautiful and magnificent, and, since a judgment is being held about a precedent, at last to understand his own cause; this at least you will have, most wretched son, which is wont to befall honored funerals: you will be praised when dead. Although we may recall here all things past, and the mouths of all poets and writers agree to sing the praises of one, yet this deed will conquer a thousand tongues, and Eloquence herself, if she exist in a single body, the subject-matter will surpass, even if I say nothing except what has been objected. A son restored to his father the light and liberty, and—what is hitherto unheard of—he loved me more than I wished.

ingressus est maria, in quibus iam minimum periculi tempestas habet, et, quod inter ista difficillimum est, amore mei vicit etiam matrem suam. tace, nefaria lingua: ergo tu ista laudas? <tu melius, uxor, quae facturum retinebas.> obtulit se captivitati; quia sciebat grave esse alligari, malis patris successit.

he entered the seas, in which by now the storm holds very little peril, and—what among these is the most difficult—out of love for me he conquered even his mother. be silent, nefarious tongue: so you praise these things? <you did better, wife, you who were holding him back from doing it.> he offered himself to captivity; because he knew it is grave to be bound, he succeeded to his father’s ills.

subit libens poenam pietas etiam sceleribus gravem. [tu melius, uxor, quae facturum retinebas.] conparate nunc, si quis patrem per hostes solus tulit, qui, cum venientia in patrem tela excepisset, simplici tamen morte defunctus est. unum legimus, qui vicarias pro patre non quidem piratis aut mari manus obtulerit, sed ubi redimi posset.

piety willingly undergoes a penalty grievous even for crimes. [you did better, wife, who were restraining him from doing it.] compare now, if anyone alone carried his father through enemies, who, when he had taken upon himself the weapons coming at his father, nevertheless was finished with a single death. we read of one who for his father offered substitute hands, not indeed to pirates or to the sea, but where he could be redeemed.

me miserum! dicendum est, quod hoc ipso admoneor exemplo: in honorem pietatis etiam damnati sepeliuntur.

Alas, wretched me! It must be said, since by this very example I am admonished: in honor of piety even the condemned are interred.

[22] Haec alii laudant, ego queror. te quidem, iuvenis, omnia saecula loquentur, et admirabile exemplum tenaci memoriae traditum in ipsa astra sublimem pinnata Virtus feret; sed mihi ista laus tua caro constat. non erat satius lectulo matris incumbere et in huius ministeriis deditum secura otia inpendere?

[22] Others praise these things; I lament. You indeed, young man, all ages will speak of, and winged Virtue will bear the admirable example, handed down to tenacious memory, up to the very stars; but to me that praise of yours comes at a dear price. Was it not better to recline on your mother’s little couch and, given over to her ministrations, spend secure leisure?

soli tibi contigerat, ut posses patrem excusate non redimere. me interim, ut coeperat, tabes lenta consumeret, me, quae debebat sola, senem mors redemisset, et, cum exanime corpus in fluctus esset abiectum, si contigisset similis tempestas, quod aequius erat, tu me, fili, sepelisses. fefellit te ingenitus honestis animis gloriae amor, spes tibi perpetuae laudis inposuit: ubi virtus, ubi pietas?

it had befallen you alone that you could, with excuse, not ransom your father. meanwhile, as it had begun, a slow wasting would have consumed me; death, which alone ought to have redeemed, would have ransomed me, an old man; and, when the lifeless body had been cast into the waves, if a like storm had occurred—which was more equitable—you, my son, would have buried me. an innate love of glory in honorable souls deceived you; the hope of perpetual praise imposed itself upon you: where is Virtue, where is Piety?

peristi, miser, et male audis. non morienti pater adsedi, non aegri caput molliori sede conposui, non fatigatum latus mutavi, non spiritum excepi. absens exstinctus, eversus mortem tuam inveni; nemo aegro vincla laxavit, nemo manus ferro sordidas ad accipiendos remisit cibos.

You have perished, poor wretch, and you are ill-spoken of. As a father I did not sit by you as you were dying, I did not set the head of the sick upon a softer seat, I did not turn your wearied side, I did not catch your breath. I was absent when you were extinguished; overthrown, I found your death; no one loosened the fetters for the sick man, no one released hands defiled with iron to receive food.

tantum catenarum causa solutus es neglectus, despectus, quidni, vilis senis vicarius? inter tot ardentissima febrium desideria non habuisti quem posceres. quomodo te vincula composuerant, iacuisti.

Only for the sake of the chains were you loosened—neglected, despised; why not, the vicar of a worthless old man? Amid so many most ardent cravings of fevers you had no one to call for. Just as the bonds had arranged you, you lay.

matrem, patrem, propinquos tantum cogitasti. numquid indulgeo mihi, quod te puto exspirasse in carcere meo?

you thought only of mother, father, and relatives. Am I perhaps indulging myself, because I think you expired in my prison?

Nondum matri satisfactum est. quoniam poenas a cadaveribus exigis, audi sequentia tempora.

Not yet has satisfaction been made to the mother. since you exact penalties from cadavers, hear the times that follow.

[23] mors ipsa filii tui naufragium fecit, per tot fluctus volutatum corpus intumuit, tot inlisum scopulis, tam spatiosis tractum harenis, numquam tamen infelicius, quam cum venit in terram. o quam grave est mori! quanto gravius, quod ego vivo!

[23] death itself made shipwreck of your son; the body, rolled through so many waves, swelled, dashed against so many rocks, dragged across such spacious sands—yet never more ill-fated than when it came to land. O how grievous it is to die! How much graver, that I live!

superstes filii mei vivo omnibus diis hominibusque sed ante omnis mihi et invisus et infestus, et, ut uxoris quoque pietatem perderem, in funere filii divortium fecit. video haec rerum naturae bona, quae filio abstuli. omnis me aetas mei admonet luctus: senectus, ad quam non pervenit miser[a], pueritia, quam nunc transivit, adulescentia, in qua periit.

As the survivor of my son I live, hated by all gods and men, but before all to myself both hateful and hostile; and, in order that I might even lose a wife’s piety, a divorce was made at our son’s funeral. I behold these goods of the nature of things, which I took away from my son. Every age reminds me of my grief: old age, to which the wretch did not attain; childhood, which he has now passed; adolescence, in which he perished.

supersum, ut, si felicissime cesserit, rogum meum videam et edacis circa corpus filii mei flammas; si hoc non contigerit, nigrum cadaver et deforme etiam ignotis spectaculum. inter haec mala credetis, puto, si dixero: vellem oculos non habere!

I survive, so that, if it turns out most happily, I may see my own pyre and the devouring flames around the body of my son; if this does not befall, a black and misshapen corpse, a spectacle even to strangers. Amid these evils you will believe, I suppose, if I say: I would that I did not have eyes!

Quid nunc amplius ad te, uxor, preces convertam inritas, male temptatas? tu vero perge et bono tuo utere. felicem te, quod in hac fortuna irasceris!

What more now shall I turn to you, wife, with prayers—ineffectual, ill-attempted? Do you indeed go on and make use of your good. Happy you, that in this fortune you grow angry!

[24] ad hos confugiendum est: per communes casus, per calamitatem meam, humanae calamitatis exemplar, ita vos coniuges vestrae sic ament, non sic desiderent, ita hoc orbitatis meae ultimum exemplum sit, ita vobis habere tam pios filios non necesse sit, miseremini! si vicarium accipitis, me proicite. non invidiosae preces sunt ~nihilominus impero~. non laeta sententiam vestram sequetur gratulatio, non ad templa deducar, sed ad sepulcra.

[24] to these I must flee for refuge: by common chances, by my calamity, the exemplar of human calamity, so may your wives love you thus, not thus desire you; so may this be the last exemplar of my bereavement; so may it not be necessary for you to have sons so pious—have pity! If you accept a vicarious substitute, cast me out. These are not invidious prayers ~nevertheless I command~. No glad gratulation will follow your sentence; I shall not be led to the temples, but to the sepulchers.

etiam cum vicero, flendum est. si vero vincimur, ibo in litus miser, planctibus aves abigam aut <me feris obiciam,> me corpori filii mei velut tumulus imponam; iacebimus duo insepulta cadavera. aut circa singulorum domos ad genua praetereuntium ibo et recepto tamen miseris more supplex non cibos petam, non stipem; mendicabo terram et conlatas miserantium manu glebas, aut, quod certe licet, filium in mare proiciam: iam, crudeles aquae et venti male secundi, reddo vobis vestrum beneficium; ferte quo libet, licet ad barbaros, licet ad hostes, licet ad piratas.

even when I have won, there must be weeping. but if indeed we are conquered, I will go in misery to the shore, with lamentations I will drive away the birds, or <I will throw myself to the wild beasts,> I will lay myself upon my son’s body like a tomb; we two will lie as unburied corpses. or I will go around the houses of individuals to the knees of passers-by, and, though received, after the manner of the wretched, as a suppliant I will ask not for food, not for alms; I will beg for earth and for clods heaped up by the hand of the compassionate, or, what is surely permitted, I will cast my son into the sea: now, cruel waters and ill-seconding winds, I repay to you your benefit; bear him where you please, be it to barbarians, be it to enemies, be it to pirates.

fortasse aliquis iubebit sepeliri; certe, quod sciam, nemo prohibebit.

perhaps someone will order burial; certainly, so far as I know, no one will prohibit it.