Seneca: QUAESTIONES NATURALES

[1] Quantum inter philosophiam interest, Lucili uirorum optime, et ceteras artes, tantum interesse existimo in ipsa philosophia, inter illam partem quae ad homines, et hanc quae ad deos, spectat. Altior est haec, et animosior: multum permisit sibi: non fuit oculis contenta. Maius esse quiddam suspicata est, ac pulchrius, quod extra conspectum natura posuisset.

[1] As much as there is a difference between philosophy, Lucilius, best of men, and the other arts, so much do I reckon there is, within philosophy itself, between that part which regards men and that which regards the gods. This latter is higher and more spirited: it allowed itself much: it was not content with the eyes. Suspecting that there was something greater and more beautiful, which nature had placed outside of sight.

[2] Denique tantum inter duas interest, quantum inter Deum et hominem. Altera docet, quid in terris agendum sit: altera, quid agatur in coelo. Altera errores nostros discutit, et lumen admouet, quo discernantur ambigua uitae: altera multo supra hanc caliginem in qua uolutamur excedit, et e tenebris ereptos illo perducit, unde lucet.

[2] Finally, there is as much difference between the two as between God and man. The one teaches what must be done on earth: the other, what is done in heaven. The one sifts our errors, and brings a light to bear, by which the ambiguities of life may be discerned: the other goes far beyond this murk in which we wallow, and leads those snatched from the darkness to that place whence it shines.

[3] Equidem tunc naturae rerum gratias ago, cum illam non ab hac parte uideo, quae publica est, sed cum secretiora eius intraui: cum disco, quae uniuersi materia sit, quis auctor sit aut custos ; quid sit deus ; totus in se intendat, an ad nos aliquando respiciat ; faciat quotidie aliquid, an sernel fecerit ; pars mundi sit an mundus ; liceat: illi hodieque decernere, et ex lege fatorum, aliquid derogare, an maiestatis deminutio sit et confessio erroris, mutanda fecisse: necesse est enim ei eadem placere, cui nisi optima placere non possunt ; nec ob hoc minus liber et potens est: ipse enim est necessitas sua.

[3] Indeed then I give thanks to the nature of things, when I see it not from that side which is public, but when I have entered its more secret parts: when I learn what the matter of the universe is, who is the author or custodian ; what god is ; whether he is wholly intent upon himself, or at some time looks back toward us ; whether he does something every day, or did it once ; whether he is a part of the world or the world ; whether it is permitted: to him even today to decree, and to derogate something from the law of the fates, or whether it is a diminution of majesty and a confession of error to have made things to be changed: for it is necessary that the same things please him, to whom nothing except the best can please ; nor on this account is he less free and potent: for he himself is his own necessity.

[4] Nisi ad haec admitterer, non fuerat nasci. Quid enim erat, cur in numero uiuentium me positum esse gauderem? an ut cibos et potiones percolarem?

[4] Unless I were admitted to these things, it would not have been worth being born. For what, indeed, was there, why I should rejoice that I had been placed in the number of the living? or that I might percolate foods and drinks?

ut hoc corpus causarium ac fluidum, periturumque nisi subinde impleatur, sarcirem, et uiuerem aegri minister? ut mortem timerem, cui omnes nascimur? Detrahe hoc inaestimabile bonum, non est uita tanti, ut sudem, ut aestuem.

that I should patch up this chance-driven and fluid body, and one destined to perish unless it be filled up again and again, and live as the minister of a sick man? that I should fear death, to which we are all born? Remove this inestimable good, life is not worth so much, that I should sweat, that I should swelter.

[5] 0 quam contempta res est homo, nisi supra humana surrexit! Quamdiu cum affectibus colluctamur, quid magnifici facimus? etiamsi superiores sumus, portenta uincimus?

[5] 0 how a despised thing man is, unless he has risen above the human! As long as we wrestle with passions, what magnificent thing do we accomplish? even if we are the superiors, are we conquering monsters?

Quid est, cur suspiciamus nosmetipsos, quia dissimiles deterrimis sumus? non uideo quare sibi placeat, qui robustior est ualetudinario.

What is it—why should we look up to ourselves, because we are unlike the very worst? I do not see why he should be pleased with himself who is more robust than a valetudinarian.

[6] Multum interest inter uires et bonam ualetudinem. Effugisti uitia animi:non est tibi frons ficta, nec in alienam uoluntatem sermo compositus, nec cor inuolutum, nec auaritia, quae quidquid omnibus abstulit, sibi ipsi negat ; nec luxuria pecuniam turpiter amittens, quam turpius reparet ; nec ambitio, quae te ad dignitatem nisi per indigna non ducet. Nihil adhuc consecutus es; multa effugisti, te nondum!

[6] There is much difference between strength and good health. You have escaped the vices of the mind:you have not a feigned brow, nor speech composed to another's will, nor a heart wrapped up, nor avarice, which, whatever it has taken from all, denies to itself ; nor luxury shamefully losing money, which it more shamefully replaces ; nor ambition, which will not lead you to dignity except through unworthy things. You have achieved nothing as yet; many things you have escaped, not yet yourself!

Virtus enim ista, quam affectamus, magnifica est non quia per se beatum est malo caruisse, sed quia animum laxat, ac praeparat ad cognitionem coelestium, dignumque efficit, qui in consortium Dei ueniat.

For that virtue which we aim at is magnificent, not because, in itself, it is blessed to have lacked evil, but because it loosens the mind, and prepares it for the cognition of celestial things, and makes one worthy to come into the consortium of God.

[7] Tunc consummatum habet plenumque bonum sortis humanae, cum, calcato omni malo, petit altum, et in interiorem naturae sinum uenit. Tunc iuuat inter sidera ipsa uagantem, diuitum pauimenta ridere, et totam cum auro suo terram: non illo tantum, dico, quod egessit, et signandum monetae dedit, sed et illo, quod in occulto seruat posterorum auaritiae.

[7] Then he possesses the consummate and full good of the human lot, when, every evil trampled underfoot, he seeks the heights and comes into the inner bosom of nature. Then it delights him, as he wanders among the stars themselves, to laugh at the pavements of the wealthy, and at the whole earth with its gold: not only, I say, at that which it has brought forth and given to be stamped for coinage, but also at that which it keeps hidden for the avarice of posterity.

[8] Non potest ante contemnere porticus, et lacunaria ebore fulgentia, et tonsiles siluas, et deriuata in domos flumina, quam totum circumeat mundum, et terrarum orbem superne despiciens angustum, et magna ex parte opertum mari, etiam qua exstat, late squalidum, et aut ustum aut rigentem. Sibi ipse ait: Hoc est illud punctum quod inter tot gentes ferro et igni diuiditur?

[8] He cannot beforehand despise porticoes, and coffered ceilings gleaming with ivory, and clipped (tonsile) groves, and rivers diverted into houses, before he has gone around the whole world, and, looking down from above upon the orb of lands, narrow and for the greater part covered by the sea, and, even where it stands out, widely squalid, and either parched or frozen. He says to himself: Is this that point which is divided among so many nations by iron and fire?

[9] O quam ridiculi sunt mortalium termini! Ultra Istrum Dacus non exeat: Strymo Thracas includat: Parthis obstet Euphrates: Danubius Sarmatica ac Romana disterminet: Rhenus Germaniae modum faciat: Pyrenaeus medium inter Gallias et Hispanias iugum extollat: inter Aegyptum et Aethiopias arenarum inculta uastitas iaceat!

[9] O how ridiculous are the boundaries of mortals! Beyond the Ister let the Dacian not go forth: let the Strymon enclose the Thracians: let the Euphrates stand in the way to the Parthians: let the Danube demarcate Sarmatian and Roman: let the Rhine set a measure for Germany: let the Pyrenean ridge lift itself as the middle between the Gauls and the Spains: between Egypt and the Ethiopias let an uncultivated waste of sands lie!

[10] Si quis formicis det intellectum hominis, nonne et illae unam aream in multas prouincias diuident? Cum te in illa uere magna sustuleris; quoties uidebis exercitus subrectis ire uexillis et quasi magnum aliquid agatur, equitem modo ulteriora explorantem, modo a lateribus affusum, libebit dicere: "It nigrum campis agmen": formicarum iste discursus est, in angusto laborantium. Quid illis et nobis interest, nisi exigui mensura corpusculi?

[10] If someone were to give to ants the intellect of a man, would not they also divide a single area into many provinces? When you shall have lifted yourself up into that truly great height; whenever you see armies going with standards upraised and as if something great were being transacted, the cavalry now reconnoitering the farther reaches, now massed upon the flanks, you will be inclined to say: "A black column moves across the plains": this is the scurrying of ants, toiling in a narrow space. What is the difference between them and us, save the measure of the tiny corpuscle?

[11] Punctum est istud in quo nauigatis, in quo bellatis, in quo regna disponitis: minima, etiam cum illis utrimque Oceanus occurrit. Sursum ingentia spatia sunt, in quorum possessionem animus admittitur: at ita si minimum secum ex corpore tulit, si sordidum omne detersit, et expeditus leuisque ac contentus modico emicuit.

[11] That is a point on which you navigate, on which you wage wars, on which you dispose kingdoms: a very small thing, even when the Ocean meets them on both sides. Upward there are vast spaces, into the possession of which the mind is admitted: but on this condition—if it has carried with it the very least from the body, if it has wiped off all that is sordid, and, unencumbered and light and content with little, has flashed forth.

[12] Cum illa tetigit, alitur, crescit, ac uelut uinculis liberatus, in originem redit; et hoc habet argumentum diuinitatis suae, quod illum diuina delectant: nec ut alienis interest, sed ut suis interest: secure spectat occasus siderum atque ortus, et tam diuersas concordantium uias. Obseruat, ubi quaeque stella primum terris lumen ostendat, ubi culmen eius summum, qua cursus sit, quousque descendat. Curiosus spectator excutit singula, et quaerit.

[12] When it has touched those things, it is nourished, it grows, and, as if freed from chains, it returns to its origin; and it has this argument of its own divinity, that divine things delight it: nor does it concern itself with them as with things alien, but as with its own: it securely beholds the settings and risings of the stars, and the so diverse ways of things concordant. It observes where each star first shows its light to the lands, where its highest summit is, what its course is, how far it descends. A curious spectator, it examines each particular, and inquires.

Quidni quaerat? scit illa ad se pertinere.

Why should he not inquire? He knows that those things pertain to himself.

[13] Tunc contemnit domicilii prioris angustias. Quantum enim est, quod ab ultimis littoribus Hispaniae usque ad Indos iacet? Paucissimorum dierum spatium, si nauem suus uentus impleuit.

[13] Then it scorns the narrownesses of its prior domicile. For how great is that which lies from the farthest shores of Hispania all the way to the Indians? The span of the very fewest days, if its own wind has filled the ship.

At illa regio coelestis per trigirita annos uelocissimo sideri uiam praestat, nusquam resistenti, sed aequaliter cito. Illic demum discit, quod diu quaesiuit: illic incipit Deum nosse. Quid est Deus?

But that celestial region, for thirty years, affords a way to the most rapid star, which halts nowhere, but moves with uniform swiftness. There at last she learns what she long inquired after: there she begins to know God. What is God?

Mens uniuersi. Quid est Deus? Quod uides totum, et quod non uides totum.

The Mind of the universe. What is God? What you see, the whole, and what you do not see, the whole.

Sic demum magnitudo sua illi redditur, qua nihil maius excogitari potest, sic solus est omnia, opus suum et extra et intra tenet.

Thus at last his own magnitude is rendered to him, than which nothing greater can be conceived; thus he alone is all things, he holds his work both without and within.

[14] Quid ergo interest inter naturam Dei et nostram? Nostri melior pars animus est: in illo nulla pars extra animum; totus ratio est. Cum interim tantus error mortalia teneat, ut hoc, quo neque formosius est quidquam, nec dispositius, nec in proposito constantius, existiment homines fortuitum et casu uolubile, ideoque tumultuosum inter fulmina, nubes, tempestates, et cetera quibus terrae ac terris uicina pulsantur.

[14] What, then, is the difference between the nature of God and ours? The better part of us is the animus; in him no part is outside the animus; he is wholly reason. Meanwhile so great an error holds mortals that men suppose this—than which nothing is more beautiful, nor more well-disposed, nor more constant in its purpose—to be fortuitous and voluble by chance, and therefore tumultuous amid thunderbolts, clouds, tempests, and the rest by which the earth and the things neighboring to the earth are buffeted.

[15] Nec haec intra uulgum dementia est, sapientiam quoque professas contigit. Sunt qui patent, sibi ipsis animum esse, et quidem prouidum ac dispensantem singula, et sua, et aliena: hoc autem uniuersum, in quo nos quoque sumus, expers esse consilii, et aut ferri temeritate quadam, aut natura nesciente quid faciat.

[15] Nor is this dementia confined within the common crowd; it has even befallen those who have professed wisdom. There are some who admit that they themselves have a mind, and indeed a provident one, dispensing each several thing, both its own and what is another’s; but that this whole universe, in which we too are, is devoid of counsel, and is either carried along by a certain temerity, or by a nature not knowing what it does.

[16] Quanti aestimas ista cognoscere, et rebus terminos ponere? quantum Deus possit? materiam ipse sibi formet, an data utatur?

[16] How highly do you esteem to know these things, and to set boundaries to things? To what extent can God? Does he himself form matter for himself, or use what is given?

utrum idea materiae prius superueniat, an materia ideae? deus quidquid uult efficiat, an in multis rebus illum tractanda destituant: et a magno artifice praue formentur multa, non quia cessat ars, sed quia id in quo exercetur, saepe inobsequens arti est?

whether the idea supervenes upon the matter first, or the matter upon the idea? whether God effects whatever he wills, or in many things the things to be handled leave him destitute: and whether many things are ill-formed by a great artificer, not because the art ceases, but because that in which it is exercised is often inobedient to the art?

[17] Haec inspicere, haec discere, his incubare, nonne transilire est mortalitatem suam, et in meliorem transcribi sortem? Quid tibi, inquis, ista proderunt? Si nihil aliud, hoc certe sciam, omnia angusta esse, mensus Deum.

[17] To inspect these things, to learn these things, to brood upon these— is it not to overleap one’s mortality, and to be transferred into a better lot? “What,” you ask, “will these things profit you?” If nothing else, this surely I shall know: that all things are narrow, having measured God.

Sed haec deinde.

But these things hereafter.

LIBER PRIMUS

BOOK ONE

[1,1] Nunc, ut ad propositum opus ueniam, audi, quid de ignibus sentiam, quos aer transuersos agit. Magna illos ui excuti argumentum est, quod obliqui feruntur et praerapida celeritate: apparet illos non ire sed proici. Ignium multae uariaeque facies sunt.

[1,1] Now, that I may come to the proposed work, hear what I think about the fires which the air drives crosswise. A great argument that they are shaken out by force is that they are borne obliquely and with very-rapid celerity: it appears that they do not go but are projected. Of fires there are many and various aspects.

[1,2] Aristoteles quoddam genus horum capram uocat: si me interrogaueris quare, prior mihi rationem reddas oportet, quare haedi uocentur; si autem, quod commodissimum est, conuenerit inter nos, ne alter alterum interroget, quod scit illum respondere non posse, satius erit de re ipsa quaerere quam mirari, quid ita Aristoteles globum ignis appellauerit capram. Talis enim fuit forma eius, qui bellum aduersus Persen Paulo gerente a lunari magnitudine apparuit.

[1,2] Aristotle calls a certain kind of these a goat: if you ask me why, you must first render me an account why they are called kids; but if, which is most convenient, it shall have been agreed between us that neither question the other about what he knows the other cannot answer, it will be preferable to inquire about the thing itself rather than to marvel why Aristotle has called a globe of fire a goat. For such was the form of that which, while Paulus was conducting the war against Perseus, appeared of lunar magnitude.

[1,3] Vidimus nos quoque non semel flammam ingentis pilae specie, quae tamen in ipso cursu suo dissipata est. Vidimus circa diui Augusti excessum simile prodigium, uidimus eo tempore, quo de Seiano actum est; nec Germanici mors sine denuntiatione tali fuit.

[1,3] We too have seen, not once, a flame in the appearance of a huge ball, which, however, was dissipated in its very course. We saw, around the passing of the Divine Augustus, a similar prodigy; we saw one at the time when action was taken concerning Sejanus; nor was the death of Germanicus without such a forewarning.

[1,4] Dices mihi: 'Ergo tu in tantis erroribus es, ut existimes deos mortium signa praemittere et quicquam in terris esse tain magnum, quod perire mundus sciat?». Erit aliud istius rei tempus: uidebimus an rerum omnium certus ordo ducatur et alia aliis ita implexa sint, ut quod antecedit aut causa sit sequentium aut signum; uidebimus an diis humana curae sint, an series ipsa, quid factura sit, certis rerum notis nuntiet.

[1,4] You will say to me: 'So then you are in such great errors as to think that the gods send ahead signs of deaths, and that there is anything on earth so great that the world knows it is to perish?». There will be another time for that matter: we shall see whether a fixed order of all things is led, and whether things are so interwoven with others that what precedes is either a cause of what follows or a sign; we shall see whether human affairs are a care to the gods, or whether the series itself, by sure marks of things, announces what it is going to do.

[1,5] Interim illud existimo, eiusmodi ignes existere aere uehementius trito, cum inclinatio eius in alteram partem facta est et non cessit sed inter se pugnauit: ex hac uexatione nascuntur trabes et globi et faces et ardores. At cum leuius collisus et, ut ita dicam, frictus est, minora lumina excutiuntur, 'crinemque uolantia sidera ducunt».

[1,5] Meanwhile I think this: that fires of this sort arise when the air has been more vehemently rubbed, when an inclination of it has been made to the other side and it did not yield but fought within itself: from this vexation are born beams and globes and torches and ardors. But when it has been struck together more lightly and, so to speak, rubbed, smaller lights are shaken out, 'and the flying stars draw a tress of hair».

[1,6] Tunc ignes tenuissimi iter exile designant et caelo producunt. Ideo nulla sine eiusmodi spectaculis nox est, non enim opus est ad efficienda ista magno aeris motu. Denique, ut breuiter dicam, eadem ratione fiunt ista, qua fulmina, sed ui minore: quemadmodum nubes collisae mediocriter fulgurationes efficient, maiore impetu impulsae fulmina, sic quanto illas minus presserit minor uis, tanto leuiora fulmina emittent.

[1,6] Then the most tenuous fires designate a slender course and draw it out in the sky. Therefore no night is without spectacles of this kind, for there is no need, for the accomplishing of these, of a great motion of the air. Finally, to speak briefly, these things are made by the same rationale as fulmina, but with a lesser force: just as clouds, moderately colliding, will produce fulgurations, but when driven with greater impetus, thunderbolts, so the less a lesser force has pressed them, the lighter thunderbolts they will emit.

[1,7] Aristoteles rationem eiusmodi reddit: 'Varia et multa terrarum orbis expire, quaedam umida quaedam sicca, quaedam calentia quaedam concipiendis ignibus idonea». Nec mirum est, si terrae omnis generis et uaria euaporatio est, cum in caelo quoque non unus appareat color rerum, sed acrior sit Caniculae rubor, Martis remissior, Iouis nullus in lucem puram nitore perducto.

[1,7] Aristotle renders a rationale of this sort: 'Various and many things exhale from the globe of lands, some moist, some dry, some warm, some suited to conceiving fires apt». Nor is it a wonder, if the evaporation of the earth is of every kind and diverse, since in the sky also not one single color of things appears, but the redness of the Dog-star is sharper, of Mars more remiss, of Jupiter none, its brilliance being brought into pure light.

[1,8] Necesse est ergo in magna copia corpusculorum, quae terrae eiectant et in superiorem agunt partem, aliqua in nubes peruenire alimenta ignium, quae non tantum collisa possint ardere sed etiam afflata radiis solis. Nam apud nos quoque ramenta sulphure aspersa ignem ex interuallo trahunt.

[1,8] It is necessary, therefore, that in the great abundance of corpuscles which the earth ejects and drives into the upper region, some reach the clouds as nourishment for fires, which can burn not only when struck together but even when breathed upon by the rays of the sun. For among us too, shavings sprinkled with sulphur draw fire from a distance.

[1,9] Veri ergo simile est talem materiam inter nubes congregatam facile succendi et minores maioresue ignes existere, prout plus illis fuit aut minus uirium. Illud enim stultissimum, existimare aut decidere stellas aut transilire aut aliquid illis auferri et abradi:

[1,9] Therefore it is verisimilar that such material, congregated among the clouds, is easily kindled, and that smaller or greater fires come into existence, according as there was to them more or less of power. For this is most foolish: to suppose either that the stars fall down, or leap across, or that something is carried off from them and abraded:

[1,10] nam si hoc fuisset, etiam defuissent; nulla enim nox est, qua non plurimae ire et in diuersum uideantur abduci. Atqui quo solet quaeque inuenitur loto, <et> magnitudo sua singulis constat: sequitur ergo, ut infra illas ista nascantur et cito intercidant, quia sine fundamento et sede certa sunt.

[1,10] for if this had been the case, they too would have been lacking; for there is no night on which very many are not seen to go and to be drawn aside in different directions. And yet each is found where it is wont, in its place, <and> its own magnitude remains constant for each: it follows therefore that these phenomena are born below them and quickly perish, because they are without foundation and a fixed seat.

[1,11] 'Quare ergo non etiam interdiu transferuntur?». Quid, si dicas stellas interdiu non esse, quia non apparent? Quemadmodum illae latent et solis fulgore obumbrantur, sic faces quoque transcurrunt et interdiu, sed abscondit illas diurni luminis claritas. Si quando tamen tanta uis emicuit, ut etiam aduersus diem uindicare sibi fulgorem suum possint, apparent.

[1,11] 'Why, then, are they not also carried across in the daytime?». What if you were to say that the stars do not exist in the daytime, because they do not appear? Just as those lie hidden and are overshadowed by the sun’s splendor, so the torches too run across even by day, but the clarity of the diurnal light conceals them. If ever, however, such great force flashes forth that they can even vindicate their own brilliance against the day, they appear.

[1,12] Nostra certe aetas non semel uidit diurnas faces, alias ab oriente in occidentem uersas, alias ab occasu in ortum. Argumentum tempestatis nautae putant, cum multae transuolant stellae. Quod si uentorum signum est, ibi est, unde uenti sunt, id est in aere, qui medius inter lunam terrasque est.

[1,12] Our age, to be sure, has not once seen diurnal torches, some turned from the Orient into the Occident, others from the setting to the rising. Sailors think it an argument of tempest when many stars fly across. But if it is a sign of winds, it is there where the winds are, that is, in the air, which is midway between the moon and the lands.

[1,13] In magna tempestate apparere quasi stellae solent uelo insidentes; adiuuari se tunc periclitantes aestimant Pollucis et Castoris numine, causa autem melioris spei est, quod iam apparet frangi tempestatem et desinere uentos: alioquin ferrentur ignes, non sederent.

[1,13] In a great tempest there are wont to appear, as it were, stars sitting on the sail; those in peril then reckon themselves aided by the numen of Pollux and Castor, but the cause of the better hope is that it already appears that the tempest is being broken and the winds are ceasing: otherwise the fires would be carried along, not sit.

[1,14] Gylippo Syracusas petenti uisa est stella super ipsam lanceam constitisse. In Romanorum castris ardere uisa sunt pila, ignibus scilicet in illa delapsis, qui saepe fulminum modo ferire et animalia solent et arbusta"; sed si minore ui.utuntur, defluunt tantum et insidunt, non feriunt nec uulnerant. Alii autem inter nubes eliduntur, alii sereno, si aer ad exprimendos ignes aptus fuit:

[1,14] To Gylippus, as he was making for Syracuse, a star was seen to have taken its stand upon his very spear. In the camp of the Romans javelins were seen to burn, the fires, of course, having slipped down onto them, which often, after the manner of thunderbolts, are wont to strike both animals and groves"; but if they employ a lesser force, they merely flow down and settle, they do not strike nor wound. Others, moreover, are struck out among the clouds, others in a serene sky, if the air has been apt for expressing fires:

[1,15] nam sereno quoque aliquando caelo tonat ex eadem causa qua nubilo, aere inter se colliso, qui, etiamsi est lucidior ac siccior, coire tamen et facere corpora quaedam similia nubibus potest, quae percussa reddant sonum. Q,uando ergo fiunt trabes, quando clipei et uastorum imagines ignibm? Ubi in talem materiam similis incidit causa sed maior.

[1,15] for even under a serene sky it sometimes thunders from the same cause as under a cloudy one, the air colliding with itself; which, even if it is brighter and drier, nevertheless can cohere and make certain bodies similar to clouds, which, when struck, render a sound. When, therefore, do beams occur, when shields and images of vast things in fires? When upon such material a like cause falls, but greater.

[2,1] Videamus nunc, quemadmodum fiat is fulgor, qui sidera circumuenit. Memoriae proditum est, quo die urbem diuus Augustus' Apollonia reuersus intrauit, circa solem uisum coloris uarii circulum, qualis esse in arcu solet. Hunc Graeci G-halo uocant, nos dicere coronam aptissime possumus.

[2,1] Let us now see how that effulgence comes about which encircles the stars. It has been handed down to memory that, on the day when the deified Augustus, returning from Apollonia, entered the city, a circle of variegated color was seen around the sun, such as is wont to be in the rainbow. The Greeks call this a halo; we can most aptly call it a crown.

Quae quemadmodum fieri dicatur, exponam.

I will expound how this is said to come to be.

[2,2] Cum in piscinam lapis missus est, uidemus in multos orbes aquam discedere et fieri primum angustissimum orbem, deinde laxiorem ac deinde alios maiores, donec euanescat impetus et in planitiem immotarum aquarum soluatur; tale quiddam cogitemus fieri etiam in aere: cum spissior factus est, sentire plagam potest; lux solis aut lunae uel cuiuslibet sideris incurrens recedere illum in circulos cogito. Nam umor et aer et omne, quod ex ictu formam accipit, in talem habitum impellitur, qualis est eius, quod impellit; omne autem lumen rotundum est: ergo et aer in hunc modum lumine percussus exibit.

[2,2] When a stone has been sent into a pool, we see the water part into many orbs and first a very narrow orb come to be, then a looser one, and then others larger, until the impetus dies away and is dissolved into the plain of the motionless waters; let us imagine something of the sort to happen also in the air: when it has been made denser, it can feel a blow; the light of the sun or of the moon or of any star, impinging, I suppose, compels it to recede into circles. For humor and air and everything that takes form from a stroke are driven into such a habit as that of the thing which drives them; but every light is round: therefore the air also, percussed by the light, will emerge in this fashion.

[2,3] Ob hoc tales splendores Graeci areas uocauerunt, quia fere terendis frugibus destinata loca rotunda sunt. Non est autem, quod existimemus istas, siue areae siue coronae sunt, in uicinia siderum fieri. Plurimum enim ab his abstint, quamuis cingere ea et coronare uideantur: non longe a terra fit talis effigies, quam uisus noster solita imbecillitate deceptus circa ipsum sidus putat positam.

[2,3] For this reason the Greeks called such splendors “areas,” because the places destined for threshing grain are generally round. Nor, however, is there any reason that we should suppose these, whether they are “areas” or “crowns,” to be formed in the vicinity of the stars. For they are very far removed from them, although they seem to gird and to crown them: such an effigy is made not far from the earth, which our sight, deceived by its customary imbecility, thinks set around the star itself.

[2,4] In uicinia autem stellarum et solis nihil tale fieri potest, quia illic tenuis aether est. Nam formae crassis demum spissisque corporibus imprimi solent, in subtilibus non habent, ubi consistant aut haereant: in balneis quoque circa lucernam tale quiddam aspici solet ob aeris densi obscuritatem, frequentissime autem austro, cum caelum maxime graue et spissum est.

[2,4] But in the vicinity of the stars and of the sun nothing of this sort can occur, because there the ether is thin. For forms are wont to be imprinted upon thick and dense bodies; in subtle ones they have nowhere to take their stand or to cling: in bathhouses too, around a lamp, such a thing is wont to be seen on account of the obscurity of dense air, and most frequently with the south wind, when the sky is most heavy and dense.

[2,5] Nonnumquam paulatim diluuntur et desinunt, nonnumquam ab aliqua parte rumpuntur et inde uentum nautici expectant, unde contextus coronae periit: si a septemtrione discessit, aquilo erit, si ab occidente, fauonius. Quod argumentum est intra eam partem caeli has fieri coronas, intra quam uenti quoque esse solent: superiora non habent coronas, quia ne uentos quidem.

[2,5] Sometimes they gradually dissolve and cease, sometimes they are broken open from some part, and from that quarter the sailors expect a wind, from which the fabric of the corona has vanished: if it has withdrawn from the north, there will be Aquilo, if from the west, Favonius. Which is evidence that these coronas are formed within that part of the sky within which the winds too are wont to be: the higher regions do not have coronas, because they do not have winds either.

[2,6] His argumentis et illud adice, numquam coronam colligi nisi stabili aere et pigro uento; aliter non solet aspici. Nam qui stat aer, impelli et diduci et in aliquam faciem fingi potest; is autem qui fluit ne feritur quidem lumine (non enim resistit nec formatur, quia prima quaeque pars eius dissipatur):

[2,6] To these arguments add also this: a corona is never gathered except with stable air and a sluggish wind; otherwise it is not wont to be seen. For air that stands can be impelled and drawn apart and fashioned into some figure; but that which flows is not even struck by light (for it does not resist nor is it formed, because each first part of it is dissipated):

[2,7] numquam ergo ullum sidus talem sibi efligiem circumdabit, nisi cum aer erit densus atque immotus et ob hoc custodiens incidentem in se rotundi lineam luminis. Nec sine causa; repete enim exemplum, quod paulo ante' proposui: lapillus in piscinam aut lacum et alligatam aquam missus circulos facit innumerabiles; at hoc idem non faciet in flumine (quare? Quia omnem figuram fugiens aqua disturbat): idem ergo in aere euenit, ut ille, qui manet, possit figurari, at ille, qui rapitur et currit, non det sui potestatem et omnem ictum uenientemque formam ex eo turbet.

[2,7] never, therefore, will any star surround itself with such an effigy, unless when the air is dense and motionless and on this account keeps the incident round line of light within itself. Nor without cause; recall the example that I set forth a little before: a little stone, thrown into a pool or a lake and into bound water, makes innumerable circles; but this same thing it will not do in a river (why? Because water, fleeing every figure, disturbs it): the same, therefore, happens in the air, so that the one which remains can be figured, but the one which is snatched away and runs does not grant power over itself and throws into confusion every stroke and incoming form from it.

[2,8] Hae, de quibus dixi, coronae cum dilapsae sunt aequaliter et in semet ipsae euanuerunt, significatur quies aeris et otium et tranquillitas; cum ad unam partem cesserunt, illinc uentus est, unde finduntur; si ruptae pluribus locis surît, tempestas fit.

[2,8] These crowns, of which I have spoken, when they have been dissolved evenly and have evanesced into themselves, there is signified a quiet of the air and leisure and tranquility; when they have yielded to one side, from that quarter is the wind, whence they are split; if they are broken in several places, a tempest comes about.

[2,9] Quare id accidat, ex his, quae iam exposui, intellegi potest. Nam si facies uniuersa subsedit, apparet temperatum esse aera, et sic placidum; si ab una parte intercisa est, apparet inde aera incumbere: et ideo illa regio uentum dabit. At cum undique lacerata et concerpta est, manifestum est a pluribus partibus in illam impetum fieri et inquietum aera hinc atque illinc assilire: itaque ex hac inconstantia caeli tam multa temptantis et undique laborantis apparet futura tempestas uentorum plurium.

[2,9] Why that happens can be understood from the things which I have already exposed. For if the whole appearance has subsided, it appears that the air is tempered, and thus placid; if it has been cut off on one side, it appears that from that side the air is pressing upon it: and therefore that region will give a wind. But when it has been torn and plucked from every side, it is manifest that from several parts an impetus is being made against it and that the unquiet air is leaping here and there: and so from this inconstancy of the sky, attempting so many things and laboring on all sides, it appears that there will be a storm of several winds.

[2,10] Hae coronae noctibus fere circa lunam et alias stellas notantur, interdiu raro, adeo ut quidam ex Graecis negauerint omnino eas fieri, cum illos historiae coarguant. Causa autem raritatis haec est, quod solis fortius lumen est et aer ipse agitatus ab illo calefactusque solutior: lunae inertior uis est ideoque facilius a circumposito aere sustinetur;

[2,10] These crowns are noted by night mostly around the moon and other stars, in the daytime rarely, to such an extent that some of the Greeks have denied that they occur altogether, although histories confute them. But the cause of the rarity is this: that the sun’s light is stronger, and the air itself, agitated and heated by it, is more loosened; the moon’s force is more inert and therefore is more easily sustained by the surrounding air;

[2,11] aeque cetera sidera infirma sunt nec perrumpere aera ui sua possunt: excipitur itaque illorum imago et in materia solidiore ac minus cedente seruatur. Debet enim aer nec tam spissus esse, ut excludat ac summoueat a se lumen immissum, nec tam tenuis aut solutus, ut nullam uenientibus radiis moram praebeat. Haec noctibus temperatura contingit, cum sidera circumiectum aera luce leni non pugnaciter nec aspere feriunt spissioremque, quam solet esse interdiu, inficiunt.

[2,11] likewise the other stars are weak and cannot break through the air by their own force: therefore their image is taken up and is preserved in a more solid and less yielding material. For the air ought neither to be so thick as to exclude and remove from itself the light sent in, nor so thin or loosened as to offer no delay to the incoming rays. This tempering occurs at night, when the stars strike the surrounding air with gentle light, not combatively nor harshly, and they imbue it—thicker than it is wont to be by day.

[3,1] At contra arcus nocte non fit aut admodum raro, quia luna non habet tantum uirium, ut nubes transeat et illis colorem suffundat, qualem accipiunt sole perstrictae. Sic enim formam arcus discoloris efficiunt: quia aliae partes in nubibus tumidiores sunt aliae summissiores, quaedam crassiores, quam ut solem transmittant, aliae imbecilliores, quam ut excludant, haec inaequalitas alternis lucem umbramque permiscet et exprimit illam mirabilem arcus uarietatem.

[3,1] But on the contrary a rainbow is not formed at night, or only very rarely, because the moon does not have so much power as to pass through the clouds and suffuse them with color such as they receive when they are struck by the sun. For thus they bring about the form of the multicolored bow: because some parts in the clouds are more swollen, others more low-lying; some are too thick to transmit the sun, others too weak to exclude it; this inequality alternately commingles light and shadow and brings out that marvelous variety of the rainbow.

[3,2] Altera causa arcus eiusmodi redditur: uidemus, cum fistula aliquo loco rupta est, aquam per tenue foramen elidi, quae sparsa contra solem oblique positum faciem arcus repraesentat. Idem uidebis accidere, si quando uolueris obseruare fullonem: cum os aqua impleuit et uestimenta tendiculis diducta leuiter aspergit, apparet uarios edi colores in illo aere asperso, quales fulgere in arcu solent.

[3,2] Another cause of the arc is rendered of this sort: we see, when a pipe is ruptured at some place, water is expelled through a fine little opening, which, scattered against the sun set obliquely, represents the appearance of an arc. You will see the same happen, if ever you wish to observe a fuller: when he has filled his mouth with water and lightly sprinkles the garments drawn apart on little stretchers, there appear various colors to be emitted in that sprinkled air, such as are wont to gleam in the arc.

[3,3] Huius rei causam in umore esse ne dubitaueris (non fit enim umquam arcus nisi nubilo); sed quaeramus, quemadmodum fiat. Quidam aiunt esse aliqua stillicidia, quae solem transmittant, quaedam magis coacta, quam ut transluceant: itaque ab illis fulgorem reddi, ab his umbram, et sic utriusque intercursu effici arcum, in quo pars fulgeat, quae solem recipit, pars obscurior sit, quae exclusit et ex se umbram proximis fecit.

[3,3] Do not doubt that the cause of this matter lies in moisture (for a rainbow never forms except when it is cloudy); but let us inquire how it is made. Some say there are certain driplets that transmit the sun, and certain more compact ones, than that they should be translucent: and so from the former the brilliance is rendered, from the latter the shadow, and thus by the inter-course of both the bow is effected, in which the part shines that receives the sun, the part is darker that shut it out and from itself made a shadow for the neighboring parts.

[3,4] Hoc ita esse quidam negant. Poterat enim uerum uideri, si arcus duos tantum haberet colores, si ex lumine umbraque constaret: sed nunc, <ut ait poeta,> "diuersi niteant cum mille colores, transitus ipse tamen spectantia lumina fallit: usque adeo quod tangit idem est, tamen ultima distant'. Videmus in eo aliquid flammei aliquid lutei aliquid caerulei et alia in picturae modum subtilibus lineis ducta, [ut ait poeta,] an dissimiles colores sint, scire non possis, nisi cum primis extrema contuleris: nam commissura decipit, usque eo mira arte naturae; quod a simillimo coepit, in dissimillimo desinit. Quid ergo istic duo colores faciunt lucis atque umbrae, cum innumerabilium ratio reddenda sit?

[3,4] Some deny that this is so. For it could seem true, if the rainbow had only two colors, if it consisted of light and shadow: but now, <as the poet says,> "when a thousand diverse colors shine, yet the transition itself deceives the gazing eyes: so far is it the same where it touches, yet the outermost parts are distant'. We see in it something fiery, something yellow, something cerulean, and others drawn, in the manner of painting, with subtle lines, [as the poet says,] whether the colors are unlike you cannot know, unless you compare the extremes with the first ones: for the commissure deceives, to such a degree by the wondrous art of nature; that which began from the most similar ends in the most dissimilar. What then do two colors of light and shadow do in this case, when an explanation of innumerable ones must be given?

[3,5] Quidam ita existimant arcum fieri: in ea parte, in qua iam pluit, singula stillicidia pluuiae cadentis singula esse specula, a singulis ergo reddi imaginem solis; deinde multas imagines, immo innumerabiles, et deuexas et in praeceps euntes confundi: itaque arcum esse multarum solis imaginum confusionem.

[3,5] Certain men judge the arc to be formed thus: in that part in which it is already raining, each little drip of the falling rain is a little mirror, and from each, therefore, the image of the sun is rendered; then the many images, nay, innumerable, both slanting and rushing headlong, are confounded: and so the bow is a confusion of many images of the sun.

[3,6] Hoc sic colligunt: pelues, inquiunt, mille sereno die porte, omnes habebunt imagines solis; in singulis foliis dispone guttas, singulae habebunt imaginem solis. At contra ingens stagnum non amplius habebit quam unam imaginem. Quare?

[3,6] They collect it thus: carry, they say, a thousand basins on a serene day—each will have images of the sun; dispose drops on individual leaves—each will have an image of the sun. But, on the contrary, a vast pool will have no more than a single image. Why?

Quia omnis circumscripta leuitas et circumdata suis finibus speculum est. Itaque piscinam ingentis magnitudinis insertis parietibus diuide, totidem illa habebit imagines solis, quot lacus habuerit; relinque illam sic ut est: diffusa semel tibi imaginem reddet. Nihil refert, quam exiguus sit umor aut lacus: si determinatus est, speculum est.

Because every smoothness that is circumscribed and enclosed within its own boundaries is a mirror. Therefore, divide a pool of enormous magnitude by inserting walls; it will have just as many images of the sun as there are basins; leave it as it is: being diffused, it will return you a single image. It makes no difference how small the moisture or the pool is: if it is determinate, it is a mirror.

Ergo stillicidia illa infinita, quae imber cadens defert, totidem specula sunt, totidem solis facies habent; hae contra intuenti perturbatae apparent, nec dispiciuntur interualla, quibus singulae distant, spatio prohibente discerni; unde pro singulis apparet una facies turbida ex omnibus.

Therefore those infinite driplets which the falling shower carries down are just so many mirrors, they have just so many faces of the sun; these, however, appear disturbed to the onlooker, nor are the intervals discerned by which the individual ones are apart, the space hindering discernment; whence, in place of the individual ones, one turbid face appears out of all.

[3,7] Aristoteles idem iudicat: Ab omni, inquit, leuitate acies radios suos replicat; nihil autem est leuius aqua et aere: ergo etiam ab aere spisso uisus noster in nos redit. Ubi uero acies hebes et infirma est, qualislibet aeris ictu deficiet. Quidam itaque hoc genere ualetudinis laborant, ut ipsi sibi uideantur occurrere, ut ubique imaginem suam cernant.

[3,7] Aristotle judges the same: From every smoothness (levity), he says, the edge of vision folds back its rays; and nothing is smoother than water and air: therefore even from dense air our sight returns back upon us. But where the edge is dull and feeble, it will fail at the stroke of any sort of air. Certain people therefore labor under this kind of valetudinary condition, so that they seem to themselves to meet themselves, so that they discern their image everywhere.

Quare? Quia infirma uis oculorum non potest perrumpere ne sibi quidem proximum aera sed resilit.

Why? Because the infirm power of the eyes cannot break through, not even the air nearest to itself, but rebounds.

[3,8] Itaque quod in aliis efficit densus aer, in his facit omnis; satis enim ualet qualiscumque ad imbecillam aciem repellendam. Longe autem magis uisum nobis nostrum remittit aqua, quia crassior est et peruinci non potest, sed radios luminum nostrorum moratur et eo, unde exierunt, reflectit. Ergo cum multa stillicidia sint, totidem specula sunt; sed quia parua sunt, solis colorem sine figura exprimunt.

[3,8] Thus what dense air effects in others, in these any air does; for whatever kind is strong enough for repelling a feeble sight. But far more does water remit our vision to us, because it is thicker and cannot be overcome, but delays the rays of our lights and reflects them to that whence they went out. Therefore, since there are many driplets, there are just as many mirrors; but because they are small, they express the sun’s color without a figure.

Deinde cum in stillicidiis innumerabilibus et sine interuallo cadentibus reddatur idem color, incipit facies esse non multarum imaginum et intermissarum, sed unius longae atque continuae.

Then, when in the innumerable drippings falling without interval the same color is rendered, the appearance begins to be not of many images and intermitted, but of one long and continuous.

[3,9] "Quomodo", inquis, "tu mihi multa milia imaginum istic esse dicis, ubi ego nullam uideo? Et quare, cum solis color unus sit, imaginum diuersus est?" Ut et haec, quae proposuisti, refellam et alia, quae non minus refellenda sunt, illud dicam oportet: nihil esse acie nostra fallacius non tantum in his, a quibus subtiliter peruidendis illam locorum diuersitas submouet, sed etiam in his quoque, quae ad manum cernit: remus tenui aqua tegitur et fracti speciem reddit; poma per uitrum aspicientibus multo maiora sunt; columnarum interualla porticus longior iungit.

[3,9] "How," you say, "do you tell me that many thousands of images are there, where I see none? And why, since the sun’s color is one, is the color of the images diverse?" So that I may refute both these things which you have proposed and others which are no less to be refuted, I must say this: that nothing is more fallacious than our eyesight—not only in those cases from the subtle perceiving of which the diversity of positions removes it, but also in those which it discerns at hand: an oar, covered by shallow water, renders the appearance of being broken; fruits, to those looking through glass, are much larger; a longer portico unites the intervals of the columns.

[3,10] Ad ipsum solem reuertere: hunc, quem toto terrarum orbe maiorem probat ratio, acies nostra sic contraxit, ut sapientes uiri pedalem esse contenderent; quem uelocissimum omnium scimus, nemo nostrum moueri uidet, nec ire crederemus, nisi appareret isse. Mundum ipsum praecipiti uelocitate labentem et ortus occasusque intra momentum temporis reuoluentem nemo nostrum sentit procedere. Quid ergo miraris, si oculi nostri imbrium stillicidia non separant et ex ingenti spatio intuentibus minutarum imaginum discrimen interit?

[3,10] Return to the sun itself: this one, whom reason proves to be greater than the whole orb of lands, our eyesight has so contracted that wise men have contended it to be a foot in size; though we know him to be the swiftest of all, none of us sees him move, nor would we believe he goes, unless it were apparent that he has gone. The world itself, gliding with headlong velocity and revolving risings and settings within a moment of time, none of us perceives to be proceeding. Why then do you marvel, if our eyes do not separate the raindrops and, for those looking from an immense distance, the distinction of minute images disappears?

[3,11] Illud dubium esse nulli potest, quin arcus imago solis sit roscida et caua nube concepta. Quod ex hoc tibi appareat: numquam non aduersa soli est, sublimis aut humilis, prout ille se submisit aut sustulit, in contrarium mota; illo enim descendente altior est, alto depressior. Saepe talis nubes a latere solis est nec arcum efficit, quia non ex recto imaginem trahit.

[3,11] This can be doubtful to no one, that the rainbow is an image of the sun, conceived in a dewy and hollow cloud. Let this be apparent to you from the following: it is never not opposite to the sun, lofty or lowly, according as that one has lowered or raised itself, moved into the contrary; for with that one descending it is higher, with that one high it is more depressed. Often such a cloud is at the side of the sun and does not effect an arc, because it does not draw the image straight-on.

[3,12] Varietas autem non ob aliam causam fit, quam quia pars coloris sole est, pars a nube: in illa umor modo caeruleas lineas modo uirides modo purpurae similes et luteas aut igneas ducit, duobus coloribus hanc uarietatem efficientibus, remisso et intento. Sic enim et purpura eodem conchylio non in unum modum exit: interest, quamdiu macerata sit, crassius medicamentum an aquatius traxerit, saepius mersa sit et excocta an semel tincta.

[3,12] The variety, however, comes about for no other cause than because part of the color is from the sun, part from the cloud: in it the moisture draws now cerulean lines, now green, now like purple and luteous or igneous, with two colors effecting this variety, the diminished and the intensified. For thus also purple from the same shellfish does not come out in one mode: it makes a difference how long it has been macerated, whether it has drawn a thicker dye-liquor or a more watery one, whether it has been dipped more often and boiled out, or tinctured once.

[3,13] Non est ergo mirum si, cum duae res sint, sol et nubes, id est corpus et speculum, tam multa genera colorum exprimuntur, quam multis generibus possunt ista incitari aut relanguescere: alius est enim color ex igneo lumine, alius ex obtunso et leniore.

[3,13] It is therefore no marvel if, since there are two things, the sun and the cloud, that is, a body and a mirror, so many kinds of colors are expressed, as by as many kinds as these can be excited or grow languid: for one color is from igneous light, another from dulled and gentler.

[3,14] In aliis rebus uaga inquisitio est, ubi non habemus, quod manu tenere possimus, et late coniectura mittenda est; hic apparet duas causas esse arcus, solem nubemque, quia nec sereno umquam fit nec nubilo ita, ut sol lateat: ergo utique ex his est, quorum sine altero non est.

[3,14] In other matters inquiry is wandering, where we do not have something we can hold in the hand, and conjecture must be sent far and wide; here it is apparent that the rainbow has two causes, the sun and the cloud, since it is never formed in a serene sky nor in a cloudy one such that the sun lies hidden: therefore assuredly it is from these, without one of which it is not.

[4,1] iamnunc illud accedit, quod aeque manifestum est, speculi ratione imaginem reddi, quia numquam nisi e contrario redditur, id est nisi ex altera parte stetit quod appareret, ex altera quod ostenderet. Rationes, quae non persuadent sed cogunt, a geometris aferuntur, nec dubium cuiquam relinquitur, quin arcus imago solis sit male expressi ob uitium figuramque speculi: nos interim temptemus alias probationes, quae de plano legi possint.

[4,1] and now this is added, which is equally manifest: that an image is rendered by the principle of a mirror, because it is never rendered except from the contrary side—that is, unless on one side there stood that which would appear, and on the other that which would show. Arguments which do not persuade but compel are brought forward by the geometers, and no doubt is left to anyone that the rainbow is an image of the sun, ill-expressed on account of the defect and the figure of the mirror; meanwhile let us attempt other proofs, which can be read on the plane.

[4,2] Inter argumenta sic nascentis arcus pono, quod celerrime nascitur. Ingens enim uariumque corpus intra momentum subtexitur caelo et aeque celeriter aboletur; nihil autem tam cito redditur quam a speculo imago; non enim facit quicquam sed ostendit.

[4,2] Among the arguments for the rainbow thus being born I set this: that it is born most swiftly. For a vast and variegated body is woven under the sky within a moment, and equally quickly it is effaced; nothing, however, is rendered so quickly as an image by a mirror; for it makes nothing but shows.

[4,3] Parianus Artemidorus adicit etiam, quale genus nubis esse debeat, quod talem solis imaginem reddit: Si speculum, inquit, concauum feceris, quod sit sectae pilae pars, si extra medium constiteris, quicumque iuxta te steterint, inuersi tibi uidebuntur et propiores a te quam a speculo;

[4,3] The Parian Artemidorus also adds what kind of cloud it ought to be that renders such an image of the sun: If you make, he says, a concave mirror, which is a part of a cut sphere, if you stand outside the center, whoever stands beside you will seem to you inverted, and nearer to you than to the mirror;

[4,4] idem, inquit, euenit, cum rotundam et cauam nubem intuemur <intimo> a latere, ut solis imago a nube discedat propiorque nobis sit et in nos magis conuersa. Color illi igneus a sole est, caeruleus a nube, ceteri utriusque mixturae.

[4,4] the same, he says, happens when we look at a round and hollow cloud from the inmost side, so that the image of the sun departs from the cloud and is nearer to us and more turned toward us. Its color is fiery from the sun, blue from the cloud; the rest are mixtures of both.

[5,1] Contra haec illa dicuntur. De speculis duae opiniones sunt: alii enim in illis simulacra cerni putant, id est corporum nostrorum figuras a nostris corporibus emissas ac separatas; alii non aiunt imagines in speculo sed ipsa aspici corpora retorta oculorum acie et in se rursus reflexa. Nunc nihil ad rem pertinet, quomodo uideamus quodcumque uidemus;

[5,1] Against these, the following are said. Concerning mirrors there are two opinions: for some think that simulacra are perceived in them, that is, the figures of our bodies emitted from our bodies and separated; others say that it is not images in the mirror that are looked at, but the bodies themselves, the edge of the eyes’ gaze bent back and again reflected upon itself. Now this is irrelevant to the matter, how we see whatever we see;

[5,6] sed, quae modo <est> imago, similis reddi debet e speculo. Quid autem est tam dissimile quam sol et arcus, in quo neque figura solis neque color neque magnitudo apparet? Arcus longe amplior est longeque ea parte, qua fulget, rubicundior quam sol, ceteris uero coloribus diuersus.

[5,6] but that which now <is> an image ought to be rendered similar from the mirror. But what is so dissimilar as the sun and the arc, in which neither the sun’s shape nor its color nor its magnitude appears? The arc is far larger, and by far more ruddy in that part where it shines, than the sun, and in its other colors it is different.

[5,3] Deinde cum uelis speculum inesse aeri, des oportet mihi eandem leuitatem corporis, eandem aequalitatem, eandem nitorem. Atqui nullae nubes habent similitudinem speculi: per medias saepe transimus nec in illis nos cernimus; qui montium summa conscendunt, despectant nubem nec tamen imaginem in illa suam aspiciunt.

[5,3] Next, when you wish a mirror to be in the air, you must give me the same lightness of the body, the same evenness, the same polish. And yet no clouds have the similitude of a mirror: we often pass through their midst and do not discern ourselves in them; those who climb the summits of mountains look down upon a cloud and yet do not behold their own image in it.

[5,4] "Singula stillicidia singula specula sunt". Concedo; sed illud nego, ex stillicidiis constare nubem. Habet enim quaedam, ex quibus fieri stillicidia possint, non ipsa; ne aquam quidem habent nubes sed materiam futurae aquae.

[5,4] "Each individual driplet is an individual mirror". I concede; but I deny this point, that a cloud consists of driplets. For it has certain elements, out of which driplets can be made, not the very things themselves; indeed the clouds do not have water, but the matter of future water.

[5,5] Concedamus tibi et guttas innumerabiles nubibus inesse et illas faciem reddere: non tamen unam omnes reddunt, sed singulae singulas. Deinde inter se specula coniunge: in unam imaginem non coibunt, sed unumquodque in se similitudinem uisae rei claudet. Sunt quaedam specula ex multis minutisque composita, quibus si unum ostenderis hominem, populus apparet unaquaque particula faciem suam exprimente; haec cum sint coniuncta et simul collocata, nihilominus seducunt imagines suas et ex uno quidem turbam efficiunt, ceterum cateruam illam non confundunt sed diremptam in facies singulas distrahunt: arcus auteur uno circumscriptus est ductu, una totius est facies.

[5,5] Let us grant you both that innumerable drops are present in clouds and that they render a face: nevertheless they do not all render one, but each renders its own. Next, join the mirrors together among themselves: they will not coalesce into one image, but each one will enclose within itself the similitude of the thing seen. There are certain mirrors composed out of many and very minute parts, in which, if you show one man, a crowd appears, with each particle expressing its own face; although these are joined and placed together, nonetheless they draw apart their images and indeed make a crowd out of one; however, they do not confound that throng, but, parted, they pull it asunder into individual faces: the rainbow, however, is circumscribed by a single stroke, the aspect of the whole is one.

[5,6] Quid ergo?, inquit. Non et aqua rupta fistula sparsa et remo excussa habere quiddam simile his, quos uidemus in arcu, coloribus solet? Verum est, sed non ex hac causa, ex qua tu uideri uis, quia unaquaeque stilla recipiat imaginem solis.

[5,6] What then? he says. Does not water, scattered from a burst pipe and shaken off by an oar, also usually have something similar to those colors which we see in the arc? It is true, but not for the reason you want it to seem, namely that each single drop receives an image of the sun.

Citius enim cadunt stillae, quam ut concipere imagines possint: standum est, ut id, quod imitantur, excipiant. Quid ergo fit? Colorem, non imaginem ducunt.

For the drops fall more quickly than that they can conceive images: they must stand still, in order to receive that which they imitate. What then comes about? They take on color, not an image.

Alioquin, ut ait Nero Caesar disertissime, "colla Cytheriacae splendent agitata columbae" et uariis coloribus pauonum ceruix, quotiens aliquo deflectitur, nitet: numquid ergo dicemus specula eiusmodi plumas, quarum omnis inclinatio in colores nouos transit?

Otherwise, as Nero Caesar most eloquently says, "the necks of the Cytherean dove shine, when agitated," and the neck of peacocks, in various colors, glistens whenever it is deflected in some direction: shall we therefore say that such feathers are mirrors, whose every inclination passes into new colors?

[5,7] Non minus nubes diuersam naturam speculis habent quam aues, quas rettuli, et chamaeleontes, et reliqua animalia, quorum color aut ex ipsis mutatur, cum ira uel cupidine incensa cutem suam uariant umore suffuso, aut positione lucis, quam prout rectam uel obliquam receperunt, ita colorantur.

[5,7] Clouds have a nature no less different from mirrors than do the birds which I have recounted, and chameleons, and the remaining animals, whose color is either changed from themselves—when, inflamed by anger or desire, they vary their skin with suffused moisture—or by the position of the light; according as they have received it straight or oblique, so are they colored.

[5,8] Quid enim simile speculis habent nubes, cum illa non perluceant, hae transmittant lucem, illa densa et coacta, hae rarae sint; illa eiusdem materiae tota, hae e diuersis temere compositae et ob hoc discordes nec diu cohaesurae? Praeterea uidemus ortu solis partem quandam caeli rubere, uidemus nubes aliquando ignei coloris: quid ergo prohibet, quomodo hunc unum colorem accipiunt solis occursu, sic multos ab illis trahi, quamuis non habeant speculi potentiam?

[5,8] For what do clouds have similar to mirrors, since those do not shine through, while these transmit light; those are dense and compact, these are rare; those are wholly of the same material, these are thrown together at random from diverse things and on this account discordant and not likely to cohere for long? Moreover, at the sun’s rising we see a certain part of the sky redden, we see clouds sometimes of a fiery color: what then prevents, just as they receive this one color at the encounter of the sun, so too many colors from being elicited from them, although they do not have the potency of a mirror?

[5,9] Modo, inquit, inter argumenta ponebas semper arcum contra solem excitari, quia ne a speculo quidem imago redderetur nisi aduerso. Hoc, inquit, commune nobis est: nam quemadmodum opponendum est speculo id, cuius in se imaginem transferat, sic, ut nubes infici possint, ita sol ad hoc apte ponendus est; non enim idem facit, undecumque effulsit, et ad hoc opus est radiorum idoneus ictus.

[5,9] Just now, he says, you were placing among the arguments that the bow is always aroused opposite the sun, because not even from a mirror would an image be rendered unless it were opposite. This, he says, is common to us: for just as that which it transfers as an image into itself must be set opposite the mirror, so, in order that the clouds may be tinged, the sun likewise must be suitably positioned for this; for it does not do the same from wherever it has shone forth, and for this there is need of a suitable stroke of the rays.

[5,10] Haec dicuntur ab his, qui uideri uolunt nubem colorari. Posidoniu et hi, qui speculari ratione talem effici iudicant uisum, hoc respondent: "Si ullus esset in arcu color, permaneret et uiseretur eo manifestius, quo propius: nunc imago arcus, ex longinquo clara, interit, cum ex uicino uentum est."

[5,10] These things are said by those who want it to seem that the cloud is being colored. Posidonius and those who judge that such a sight is produced by a specular (mirror-like) principle reply this: "If there were any color in the arc, it would endure and would be seen all the more clearly the nearer one was; but as it is, the image of the arc, clear from a distance, vanishes when one comes close."

[5,11] Huic contradictioni non consentio, cum ipsam sententiam probem. Quare? Dicam: quia coloratur quidem nubes, sed ita, ut color eius non undique appareat (nam ne ipsa quidem undique apparet; nubem enim nemo, qui in ipsa est, uidet): quid ergo mirum, si color eius non uidetur ab eo, a quo ipsa non uisitur?

[5,11] I do not consent to this contradiction, since I approve the opinion itself. Why? I will say: because the cloud is indeed colored, but in such a way that its color does not appear everywhere (for not even it itself appears everywhere; for no one who is in the cloud sees the cloud): what, then, is there to wonder at, if its color is not seen by him by whom it itself is not seen?

Atqui ipsa, quamuis non uideatur, est: ergo et color. Ita non est argumentum falsi coloris, quod apparere accedentibus desinit. Idem enim in ipsis euenit nubibus, nec ideo falsae sunt, quia non uidentur.

And yet the thing itself, although it is not seen, exists: therefore the color as well. Thus it is not an argument of a false color that it ceases to appear to those approaching. For the same happens to the clouds themselves, nor are they therefore false, because they are not seen.

[5,12] "Praeterea, cum dicitur tibi nubem sole suffectam, non dicitur tibi colorem illum inustum esse uelut duro corpori et stabili ac manenti, sed ut fluido et uago et nihil amplius quam breuem speciem recipienti. Sunt etiam quidam colores, qui ex interuallo uim suam ostendunt: purpuram Tyriam, quo melior est saturiorque, eo altius oportet teneas, ut fulgorem suum intendat. Non tamen ideo non habet colorem illa, quia, quem optimum habet, non quomodocumque explicatur ostendit."

[5,12] "Moreover, when it is said to you that a cloud is suffused by the sun, it is not said to you that that color is burned-in as if upon a hard body, stable and abiding, but as upon one fluid and wandering and receiving nothing more than a brief appearance. There are also certain colors which display their force from an interval: Tyrian purple—the better and more saturated it is, the higher you ought to hold it, that it may intend its effulgence. Nevertheless, it does not on that account fail to have color, because the best color which it has it does not display however it may be unfolded."

[5,13 In eadem sententia sum qua Posidonius, ut arcum iudicem fieri nube formata in modum concaui speculi et rotundi, cui forma sit partis e pila secta. Hoc probari, nisi geometrae adiuuerint, non potest, qui argumentis nihil dubii relinquentibus docent solis illam esse effigiem non similem. Neque enim ommia ad uerum specula respondent.

[5,13 I am in the same sentiment as Posidonius, that I judge the arc to be formed by a cloud fashioned in the manner of a concave and round mirror, whose form is that of a part cut from a sphere. This cannot be proved unless the geometers shall aid, who by arguments leaving nothing doubtful teach that that effigy is not similar to the sun. For not all mirrors correspond to the truth.

[5,14] Sunt, quae uidere extimescas (tantam deformitatem corrupta facie uisentium reddunt, seruata similitudine in peius); sunt, quae cum uideris, placere tibi uires tuae possint (in tantum lacerti crescunt et totius corporis super humanam magnitudinem habitus augetur); sunt, quae dextras facies ostendant, sunt, quae sinistras, sunt, quae detorqueant et uertant: quid ergo mirum est eiusmodi speculum in nube quoque fieri, quo solis species uitiosa reddatur?

[5,14] There are some which you would shrink from seeing (they render to the beholders so great a deformity, with the face corrupted, the similitude being preserved but for the worse); there are some which, when you have seen them, can make your strength please you (to such a degree the upper arms grow and the habitus of the whole body is increased beyond human magnitude); there are some which show dextral faces, some sinistral, some which twist awry and turn: what, then, is there to wonder at if a mirror of such a sort be formed in a cloud as well, whereby the sun’s semblance is rendered vitiated?

[6,1] Inter cetera argumenta et hoc erit, quod numquam maior arcus dimidio circulo apparet et quod eo minor est, quo altior sol...

[6,1] Among the other arguments there will also be this: that the bow never appears greater than a half-circle, and that it is the smaller, the higher the sun...

[6,2] Quare tamen, si imago solis est arcus, longe ipso sole maior apparet? Quia est alicuius speculi natura talis, ut maiora multo, quae uidit, ostendat et in portentuosam magnitudinem augeat formas, alicuius inuicem talis, ut minuat.

[6,2] Why, however, if the arc is an image of the sun, does it appear far larger than the sun itself? Because the nature of some mirror is such that it shows much larger the things which it sees and augments the forms into a portentous magnitude, while that of another, in turn, is such as to diminish.

[6,3] Illud mihi dic, quare in orbem eat facies, nisi orbi redditur? Dices enim fortasse, unde sit illi color uarius: unde talis figura sit, non dices, nisi aliquod exemplar, ad quod formetur, ostenderis. Nullum autem quam solis est, a quo cum tu quoque fatearis illi colorem dari, sequitur, ut et detur forma.

[6,3] Tell me this: why does the face go into a circle, unless it is rendered back to an orb? For you will perhaps say whence its variegated color is; but whence such a figure is, you will not say, unless you show some exemplar to which it is formed. Now there is none other than the sun’s; and since you too admit that color is given to it by him, it follows that form also is given.

Denique inter me teque conuenit colores illos, quibus caeli regio depingitur, a sole esse; illud unum inter nos non conuenit: tu dicis illum colorem esse, ego uideri; qui siue est, siue uidetur, a sole est. Tu non expedies, quare color ille subito desinat, cum omnes fulgores paulatim discutiantur.

Finally, between me and you it is agreed that those colors, with which the region of the sky is depicted, are from the sun; this one thing between us is not agreed: you say that that color is, I that it seems; which, whether it is or seems, is from the sun. You will not unravel why that color ceases suddenly, whereas all effulgences are dissipated little by little.

[6,4] Pro me est et repentina eius facies et repentinus interitus: proprium enim hoc speculi est, in quo non per partes struitur quod apparet, sed statim totum fit; aeque cito omnis imago aboletur in illo quam ponitur. Nihil enim aliud ad ista efficienda uel remouenda opus est quam ostendi et abduci. Non est ergo propria in ista nube substantia, nec corpus est sed mendacium et sine re similitudo.

[6,4] On my side are both its sudden aspect and its sudden perishing: for this is the proper property of a mirror, in which what appears is not constructed by parts, but at once the whole comes to be; just as quickly every image is abolished in it as it is set up. For nothing else is needed to effect or to remove these things than to be shown and to be withdrawn. Therefore there is no proper substance in that cloud, nor is it a body, but a falsehood and a similitude without reality.

Vis scire hoc ita esse? Desinet arcus, si obtexeris solem. Oppone, inquam, soli alteram nubem: huius uarietas interibit.

Do you wish to know that this is so? The bow will cease, if you cover the sun. Set, I say, another cloud against the sun: the variegation of this one will disappear.

[6,5] At maior aliquanto est arcus quam sol. Dixi modo fieri specula, quae multiplicent omne corpus, quod imitantur. Illud adiciam, omnia per aquam uidentibus longe esse maiora: litterae quamuis minutae et obscurae per uitream pilam aqua plenam maiores clarioresque cernuntur; poma formosiora quam sunt uidentur, si innatant uitro.

[6,5] But the rainbow is somewhat larger than the sun. I have just said that mirrors are made which multiply every body that they imitate. I will add this: to those who see through water, all things are far larger; letters, however minute and obscure, are perceived larger and clearer through a glass sphere filled with water; fruits seem more shapely in form than they are, if they float in glass.

Sidera ampliora per nubem aspicienti uidentur, quia acies nostra in umido labitur nec apprehendere quod uult fideliter potest. Quod manifestum fiet, si poculum impleueris aqua et in id conieceris anulum: nam cum in ipso fundo anulus iaceat, facies eius in summa aqua redditur.

The stars seem larger to one beholding through a cloud, because our visual keenness slips in the humid and cannot with fidelity apprehend what it wants. This will be made manifest, if you fill a cup with water and cast a ring into it: for while the ring lies on the very bottom, its face is rendered on the surface of the water.

[6,6] Quicquid uidetur per umorem, longe amplius uero est: quid mirum maiorem reddi imaginem solis, quae in nube umida uisitur, cum ex duabus causis hoc accidat? Quia in nube est aliquid uitro simile, quod potest perlucere, est aliquid et aquae, quam, etiamsi nondum habet, iam parat, id est similis eius natura est, in quam ex sua uertatur.

[6,6] Whatever is seen through humor (moisture) is by far larger than it is in truth: what wonder that the image of the sun, which is seen in a humid cloud, is rendered greater, since this happens from two causes? Because in the cloud there is something glass-like, which can be translucent, and there is also something of water, which, even if it does not yet have it, it is already preparing—that is, its nature is similar to that into which it is turned from its own.

[7,1] 'Quoniam', inquit, 'uitri fecisti mentionem, ex hoc ipso argumentum contra te sumam. Virgula solet fieri uitrea, striata uel pluribus angulis in modum clauae torosa: haec si in transuersum solem accipit, colorem talem, qualis in arcu uideri solet, reddit, ut scias non imaginem hic solis esse sed coloris imitationem ex repercussu'.

[7,1] 'Since,' he says, 'you have made mention of glass, from this very thing I will take an argument against you. A little rod is wont to be made of glass, striated or with several angles, torose in the manner of a club: if this receives the sun obliquely, it renders a color such as is wont to be seen in the arc, so that you may know that here there is not an image of the sun but an imitation of color from reflection'.

[7,2] Primum in hoc argumento multa pro me sunt: quod apparet a sole fieri; quod apparet leue quiddam esse debere et simile speculo, quod solem repercutiat; deinde quod apparet non fieri ullum colorem sed speciem falsi coloris, qualem, ut dixi, columbarum ceruix et sumit et ponit, utcumque deflectitur. Hoc autem et in speculo est, cui nullus inditur color, sed simulatio quaedam coloris alieni.

[7,2] First, in this argument many things are on my side: that it appears to be made by the sun; that it appears it must be something light and similar to a mirror, which reflects the sun; then that it appears no color is produced, but an appearance of a false color, such as, as I said, the neck of doves both takes on and puts off, however it is turned. But this also is in a mirror, to which no color is imparted, but a certain simulation of an alien color.

[7,3] Unum hoc tantum mihi soluendum est, quod non uisitur in ista uirgula solis imago; cuius bene exprimendae capax non est: ita conatur quidem reddere imaginem, quia leuis est materia et ad hoc habilis, sed non potest, quia enormiter facta est. Si apta fabricata foret, totidem redderet soles, quot habuisset in se toros. Quae quia discernuntur inter se nec satis in uicem speculi nitent, incohant tantum imagines nec exprimunt et ob ipsam uiciniam turbant et in speciem coloris unius adducunt.

[7,3] Only this one point I have to resolve, that in that little rod the sun’s image is not seen; it is not capable of expressing it well. Thus it does indeed attempt to render an image, because the material is light and suitable for this, but it cannot, because it has been made irregularly. If it had been fabricated apt, it would render as many suns as it had knobs in itself. Since these are distinguished from one another and do not shine sufficiently in the office of a mirror, they only begin images and do not express them, and by their very nearness they disturb them and reduce them into the appearance of a single color.

[8,1] At quare arcus non implet orbem, sed pars dimidia eius uidetur, cum plurimum porrigitur incuruaturque? Quidam ita opinantur: "Sol, cum sit multo altior nubibus, a superiore illas tantum percutit parte; sequitur, ut inferior pars earum non tingatur lumine: ergo cum ab una parte solem accipiant, unam eius partem imitantur, quae numquam dimidia maior est."

[8,1] But why does the rainbow not fill a circle, but only a half of it is seen, though it is stretched out very far and arched? Certain people opine thus: "The sun, since it is much higher than the clouds, strikes them only on the superior part; it follows that their inferior part is not tinged with light: therefore, since they receive the sun from one side, they imitate one of its parts, which is never greater than a half."

[8,2] Hoc argumentum parum potens est. Quare? Quia, quamuis sol ex superiore parte sit, totam tamen percutit nubem, ergo et tingit.

[8,2] This argument is not very potent. Why? Because, although the sun is from the upper part, nevertheless it strikes the whole cloud; therefore it also tinges it.

Quidni? cum radios transmittere soleat et omnem densitatem perrumpere. Deinde contrariam rem proposito suo dicunt.

Why not? since it is wont to transmit rays and to break through every density. Then they say a thing contrary to their own proposition.

Nam si superior est sol et ideo superiori tantum parti nubium affunditur, numquam terra tenus descendet arcus: atqui usque in humum demittitur.

For if the sun is superior and therefore is poured only upon the superior part of the clouds, the arc will never descend as far as the earth: and yet it is lowered all the way to the ground.

[8,3] Praeterea numquam non contra solem arcus est; nihil autem ad rem pertinet, supra infraue sit, quia totum quod contra est latus uerberatur. Deinde aliquando arcum et occidens facit; tum certe ex inferiore parte nubes ferit terris propinquus: atqui et tunc dimidia pars est, quamuis solem nubes ex humili et sordido accipiant.

[8,3] Moreover, the arc is never not opposite the sun; and it matters nothing to the point whether it be above or below, since the whole side that is opposite is struck. Then sometimes the setting [sun] too makes an arc; then certainly, being near to the earth, it hits the clouds from the lower part: and yet even then it is a half part, although the clouds receive the sun from a low and sordid position.

[8,4] Nostri, qui sic in nube, quomodo in speculo, lumen uolunt reddi, nubem cauam faciunt et sectae pilae partem, quae non potest totum orbem reddere, quia ipsa pars orbis est. Proposito accedo, argumento non consentio. Nam si in concauo speculo tota facies oppositi orbis exprimitur, et in semiorbe nihil prohibet totam aspici pilam.

[8,4] Our own, who wish the light to be returned in a cloud as in a mirror, make the cloud hollow and a part of a cut sphere, which cannot render the whole orb, because it is itself a part of an orb. I accede to the proposition, I do not consent to the argument. For if in a concave mirror the whole face of the opposite orb is expressed, then in a half-orb nothing prevents the whole ball from being seen.

[8,5] Etiamnunc diximus circulos apparere soli lunaeque in similitudinem arcus circumdatos: quare ille circulus iungitur, in arcu numquam? Deinde quare semper concauae nubes solem accipiunt, non aliquando planae et tumentes?

[8,5] Even now we have said that circles appear about the sun and the moon, encircled in the likeness of a rainbow: why is that circle joined, but in the arc never? Then why do concave clouds always receive the sun, and not sometimes flat and bulging ones?

[8,6] Aristoteles ait post autumnale aequinoctium qualibet hora diei arcum fieri, aestate non fieri nisi aut incipiente aut inclinato die. Cuius rei causa manifesta est: primum, quia media diei parte sol calidissimus nubes euincit nec potest imaginem suam ab his recipere quas scindit; at matutino tempore aut uergens in occasum minus habet uirium, ideo a nubibus sustineri et repercuti potest.

[8,6] Aristotle says that after the autumnal equinox an arc is made at any hour of the day; in summer it is not made except either when the day is beginning or when it is inclining. The cause of this thing is manifest: first, because in the middle part of the day the very hot sun overcomes the clouds and cannot receive back its own image from those which it splits; but at morning time or verging toward sunset it has less strength, therefore it can be sustained by the clouds and reflected back.

[8,7] Deinde cum arcum facere non soleat nisi aduersus his, in quibus facit nubibus, cum breuiores dies sunt, semper obliquus est: itaque qualibet diei parte, etiam cum altissimus est, habet aliquas nubes, quas ex aduerso ferire possit. At temporibus aestiuis super nostrum uerticem fertur: itaque medio die excelsissimus terras rectiore aspicit linea, quam ut ullis nubibus possit occurrere'; omnes enim sub se tunc habet.

[8,7] Next, since it is not accustomed to make a bow except opposite to the clouds in which it makes it, when the days are shorter it is always oblique: therefore, at whatever part of the day, even when it is most high, it has some clouds which it can strike from the opposite. But in aestival times it is borne above our vertex: therefore at midday, being most lofty, it looks upon the lands with a straighter line than that it can meet any clouds; for it then has all of them beneath itself.

[8,8] Ut ait Vergilius noster: "et bibit ingens arcus", cum aduentat imber; sed non easdem, undecumque apparuit, minas affert: a meridie ortus magnam uim aquarum uehet (uinci enim nubes non potuerunt ualentissimo sole, tantum illis est uirium); si circa occasum refulsit, rorabit et leuiter impluet; si ab ortu circaue surrexit, serena promittit.

[8,8] As our Vergil says: "and the huge rainbow drinks," when a shower is approaching; but it does not bring the same menaces, from wherever it has appeared: if it has risen from the south, it will carry a great force of waters (for the clouds could not be conquered by the most powerful sun; so great is the strength in them); if it has shone out around sunset, it will bedew and rain lightly; if it has risen from the east or thereabout, it promises clear skies.

[9,1] Nunc de uirgis dicendum est, quas non minus pictas uariasque aeque pluuiarum signa solemus accipere. In quibus non multum operae consumendum est, quia uirgae nihil aliud sunt quam imperfecti arcus. Nam facies illis est quidem picta, sed nihil curuati habens: in rectum iacent.

[9,1] Now it must be said about rods, which we are accustomed to take as signs of rains as well, no less painted and variegated. In these not much toil needs to be spent, because rods are nothing else than imperfect rainbows. For their aspect is indeed painted, but having nothing curved: they lie straight.

[9,2] Fiunt autem iuxta solem fere in nube umida et iam se spargente. Itaque idem est in illis qui in arcu color; tantum ffigura mutatur, quia nubium quoque, in quibus extenduntur, alia est.

[9,2] They come about, moreover, for the most part near the sun, in a moist cloud now spreading itself. And so the color in them is the same as in the bow; only the figure is changed, because the condition of the clouds also, in which they are extended, is different.

[10,1] Similis uarietas in coronis est; sed hoc differunt, quod coronae ubique fiunt, ubicumque sidus est, arcus non nisi contra solem, uirgae non nisi in uicinia solis. Possum et hoc modo differentiam omnium reddere: coronam si diuiseris, arcus erit; si direxeris, uirga. In omnibus color multiplex, ex caeruleo fuluoque uarius.

[10,1] A similar variety is in coronas; but they differ in this, that coronas arise everywhere, wherever the star is, arcs only opposite the sun, rods only in the neighborhood of the sun. I can also render the difference of all in this way: if you divide a corona, it will be an arc; if you straighten it, a rod. In all the color is multiplex, variegated from cerulean and fulvous.

Virgae soli tantum adiacent, arcus solares lunaresque sunt, coronae omnium siderum.

Rods lie adjacent only to the sun; arcs are solar and lunar; coronas are of all the stars.

[11,1] Aliud quoque uirgarum genus apparet, cum radii per angusta foramina nubium tenues et intenti distantesque inter se diriguntur: et ipsi signa imbrium sunt.

[11,1] Another kind of rods also appears, when rays are directed through the narrow openings of the clouds, thin and straight and set apart from one another: and they themselves are signs of rains.

[11,2] Quomodo nunc me hoc loco geram? Quid uocem imagines solis? Historici soles uocant et binos ternosque apparuisse memoriae tradunt; Graeci parhelia appellant, quia in propinquo fere a sole uisuntur aut quia accedunt ad aliquam similitudinem solis.

[11,2] How am I now to conduct myself in this place? What am I to call the images of the sun? The historians call them suns and hand down to memory that two and even three have appeared; the Greeks call them parhelia, because they are seen for the most part near the sun, or because they approach to some similitude of the sun.

Non enim totum imitantur sed magnitudinem eius figuramque: ceterum nihil habent ardoris hebetes et languidi. His quod nomen imponimus? An facio quod Vergilius, qui dubitauit de nomine, deinde id, de quo dubitauerat, posuit?

For they do not imitate the whole, but its magnitude and figure; moreover, they have nothing of ardor, being dull and languid. What name do we impose on these? Or shall I do what Vergil did, who doubted about the name, and then set down that about which he had doubted?

"Et quo te nomine dicam, Rhaetica? Nec cellis ideo contende Falernis."

"And by what name shall I call you, Raetian? Nor therefore contend with the Falernian cellars."

Nihil ergo prohibet illas parhelia uocari.

Nothing, therefore, prevents those from being called parhelia.

[11,3] Sunt autem imagines solis in nube spissa et incurua in modum speculi. Quidam parhelion ita definiunt: nubes rotunda et splendida similisque soli. Sequitur enim illum nec umquam longius relinquitur, quam fuit, cum apparuit.

[11,3] There are, moreover, images of the sun in a thick and incurved cloud, in the manner of a mirror. Certain persons define the parhelion thus: a round and splendid cloud, and similar to the sun. For it follows the sun and is never left at a greater distance than it was when it appeared.

Num quis nostrum miratur, si solis effigiem in aliquo fonte aut placido lacu uidit? Non, ut puto. Atqui tam in sublimi facies eius quam inter nos potest reddi, si modo idonea est materia, quae reddat.

Does any of us marvel, if he has seen the sun’s effigy in some spring or placid lake? No, as I suppose. And yet aloft its face can be rendered just as among us, provided only that the material which renders is suitable.

[12,1] Quotiens defectionem solis uolumus deprehendere, ponimus pelues, quas aut oleo aut pice implemus, quia pinguis umor minus facile turbatur et ideo quas recipit imagines seruat; apparere autem imagines non possunt nisi in liquido et immoto. Tunc solemus notare, quemadmodum luna soli se opponat et illum tanto maiorem obiecto corpore abscondat, modo ex parte, si ita competit, ut in latus eius incurreret, modo totum; haec dicitur perfecta defectio, quae stellas quoque ostendit et intercipit lucem, tunc scilicet cum uterque orbis sub eodem libramento stetit.

[12,1] As often as we wish to apprehend a defection (eclipse) of the sun, we set out basins, which we fill either with oil or with pitch, because a fatty liquid is less easily disturbed and therefore preserves the images it receives; moreover, images cannot appear except in what is liquid and motionless. Then we are wont to note how the moon sets herself opposite to the sun and hides him, so much the greater, with her interposed body—now in part, if it so befits that she run upon his side, now wholly; this is called a perfect defection (eclipse), which also shows the stars and intercepts the light, namely then when each orb has stood under the same balance.

[12,2] Quemadmodum ergo utriusque imago in terris aspici potest, ita in aere, cum sic coactus aer et limpidus constitit, ut faciem solis acciperet. Quam et aliae nubes accipiunt sed transmittunt, si aut mobiles sunt aut rarae aut sordidae: mobiles enim spargunt illam; rarae emittunt; sordidae turpesque non sentiunt, sicut apud nos imaginem maculosa non reddunt.

[12,2] Just as, therefore, the image of each can be looked upon on the earth, so also in the air, when the air has been thus compressed and has stood limpid, so as to receive the face of the sun. Which even other clouds receive but transmit, if they are either mobile or rare or sordid: for the mobile scatter it; the rare emit it; the sordid and foul do not perceive it, just as, among us, maculate things do not render an image.

[13,1] Solent et bina fieri parhelia eadem ratione. Quid enim impedit, quommus tot sint, quot nubes fuerint aptae ad exhibendam solis effigiem? Quidam in illa sententia sunt, quotiens duo simulacra talia existunt, ut iudicent in illis alteram solis imaginem esse, alteram imaginis.

[13,1] Double parhelia also are wont to occur by the same rationale. For what, indeed, prevents there being as many as there are clouds suited to exhibiting the sun’s effigy? Certain people are of this opinion: whenever two such simulacra exist, they judge that in them the one is the sun’s image, the other an image of an image.

Nam apud nos quoque cum plura specula disposita sunt ita, ut alteri sit conspectus alterius, omnia implentur, et una imago a uero est, ceterae imaginem effigies sunt; nihil enim refert, quid sit quod speculo ostendatur: quicquid uidet, reddit. Ita illic quoque in sublimi, si sic nubes fors aliqua disposuit, ut inter se conspiciant, altera nubes solis imaginem, altera imaginis reddit.

For among us too, when several mirrors are arranged in such a way that each has a view of the other, all are filled, and one image is from the real, the rest are effigies of an image; for it makes no difference what it is that is shown to a mirror: whatever it sees, it gives back. Thus up there as well, aloft, if by some chance the clouds have been disposed so that they behold one another, the one cloud renders the image of the sun, the other the image of the image.

[13,2] Debent autem hae nubes, quae hoc praestant, densae esse, leues, splendidae, planae, naturae solidae. Ob hoc omnia eiusmodi simulacra candida sunt, et similia lunaribus circulis, quia ex percussu oblique accepto sole resplendent: nam si infra solem nubes fuerit et propior, ab eo dissipatur; longe autem posita radios non remittet nec imaginem effciet. <quare?> Quia apud nos quoque specula, cum procul a nobis abducta sunt, faciem non reddunt, quia acies nostra non habet usque ad nos recursum.

[13,2] But the clouds which furnish this ought to be dense, light, splendid, flat, of a solid nature. On account of this all simulacra of this kind are bright-white, and similar to lunar circles, because they shine back from the sun’s strike received obliquely: for if a cloud is beneath the sun and nearer, it is dissipated by it; but, placed far off, it will not remit the rays nor effect an image. <quare?> Because with us, too, mirrors, when they are withdrawn far from us, do not give back a face, because our eyesight does not have a return back to us.

[13,3] Pluuiarum autem et hi soles (utar enim historica lingua) indicia sunt, utique si a parte austri constiterunt, unde maxime nubes ingrauescunt; cum utrimque solem cinxit talis effigies, tempestas, si Arato credimus, surgit.

[13,3] Moreover, these “suns” (for I will use the historical tongue) are indications of rains, especially if they have taken their stand on the side of the south, whence the clouds most grow heavy; when such an effigy has encircled the sun on both sides, a tempest, if we believe Aratus, arises.

[14,1] Tempus est alios quoque ignes percurrere, quorum diuersae figurae sunt. Aliquando emicat stella, aliquando ardores sunt, hi nonnumquam fixi et haerentes nonnumquam uolubiles. Horum plura genera conspiciuntur: sunt bothyni, cum uelut corona cingente introrsus ingens caeli recessus est similis effossae in orbem specus; sunt pithiae, cum magnitudo uasti rotundique ignis dolio similis uel fertur uel uno loco flagrat; sunt chasmata, cum aliquod spatium caeli desedit et flammam uelut dehiscens in abdito ostentat.

[14,1] It is time to run through other fires as well, whose figures are diverse. Sometimes a star flashes out, sometimes there are ardors; these are sometimes fixed and clinging, sometimes rolling. Of these several kinds are observed: there are bothyni, when, with a sort of encircling corona, there is inward an immense recess of the sky, like a cavern dug out in a circle; there are pithiae, when the magnitude of a vast and rotund fire, like a cask, either is borne along or blazes in one place; there are chasmata, when some space of the sky has subsided and, as if gaping, displays a flame in the hidden depth.

[14,2] Colores quoque horum omnium plurimi sunt: quidam ruboris acerrimi, quidam euanidae ac leuis flammae, quidam candidae lucis, quidam micantes, quidam aequaliter et sine eruptionibus aut radiis fului; uidemus ergo "stellarum longos a tergo albescere tractus".

[14,2] The colors, too, of all these are very many: some of very sharp redness, some of a wan and light flame, some of candid light, some glittering, some fulvous uniformly and without eruptions or rays; we see therefore “the long tracts of the stars whitening behind.”

[14,3] Hae uelut stellae exiliunt et transuolant uidenturque longum ignem porrigere propter immensam celeritatem, cum acies nostra non discernat transitum eorum, sed, quacumque cucurrerunt, id totum igneum credat. Tanta est enim uelocitas motus, ut partes eius non dispiciantur, summa prendatur: intellegimus magis qua ierit stella quam qua eat.

[14,3] These, as if stars, leap forth and fly across, and seem to extend a long fire on account of their immense celerity, since our visual acuity does not discern their transit, but, wherever they have run, believes all that to be fiery. For such is the velocity of the motion that its parts are not distinguished, the sum is apprehended: we understand rather where the star has gone than where it is going.

[14,4] Itaque uelut igne continuo totum iter signat, quia uisus nostri tarditas non subsequitur momenta currentis, sed uidet simul et unde exiluerit et quo peruenerit. Quod fit in fulmine: longus nobis uidetur ignis eius, quia cito spatium suum transilit, et oculis nostris occurrit uniuersum per quod deiectus est; at ille non est extenti corporis per omne, qua uenit. Neque enim tam longa et extenuata in impetum ualent.

[14,4] And so, as if with continuous fire, it marks its whole journey, because the slowness of our sight does not follow the moments of the thing running, but sees at once both whence it leaped forth and whither it has arrived. This happens in lightning: its fire seems long to us, because it quickly leaps across its own span, and the whole tract through which it has been cast down meets our eyes; yet it is not a body stretched out through the whole path by which it came. For things so long and attenuated are not strong enough for an impetus.

[14,5] Quomodo ergo prosiliunt? Attritu aeris ignis incensus uento praeceps impellitur; non semper tamen uento attrituue fit, nonnumquam et aliqua opportunitate aeris nascitur: multa enim sunt in sublimi sicca calida terrena, inter quae oritur et pabulum suum subsequens defluit ideoque uelociter rapitur.

[14,5] How then do they leap forth? By the attrition of the air a fire, incensed, is impelled headlong by the wind; not always, however, is it produced by wind or by attrition—sometimes it is born even from some opportuneness of the air: for aloft there are many dry, hot, earthy things, among which it arises and, following its own fuel, it flows down, and therefore is swiftly snatched away.

[14,6] At quale color diuersus est? Quia refert quale sit id, quod incenditur, quantum et quam uehemens, quo incenditur. Ventum autem significant eiusmodi lapsus et quidem ab ea parte, qua erumpunt.

[14,6] But how is the color diverse? Because it matters what sort that is which is set on fire, how much and how vehement it is, and by what it is kindled. Moreover, such descents signify the wind, and indeed from that quarter from which they erupt.

[15,1] 'Fulgores', inquis, 'quomodo fiunt, quos Graeci G-sela appellent?' Multis, ut aiunt, modis: potest illos uentorum uis edere, potest superioris caeli feruor (nam cum late fusus sit ignis, inferiora aliquando, si sunt idonea accendi, corripit); potest stellarum motus cursu suo excitare ignem et in subiecta transmittere. Quid porro? Non potest fieri, ut aer uim igneam usque in aethera elidat, ex qua fulgor ardorue sit uel stellae similis excursus?

[15,1] 'Flashes,' you ask, 'how are they produced, which the Greeks call G-sela
call them?' In many ways, as they say: the force of winds can bring them forth; the fervor of the upper heaven can (for when fire is spread far and wide, it sometimes seizes upon the lower regions, if they are suitable to be kindled); the motion of the stars, in its own course, can rouse fire and transmit it into the things beneath. What moreover? Can it not come to pass that the air drives out a fiery force all the way into the aether, from which there is a flash or a burning, or a star-like excursion?

[15,2] Ex his fulgoribus quaedam praeceps eunt similia prosilientibus stellis, quaedam certo loco permanent et tantum lucis emittunt, ut fugent tenebras ac diem repraesentent, donec consumpto alimento primum obscuriora sint, deinde flammae modo, quae in se cadit, per assiduam deminutionem redigantur ad nihilum. Ex his quaedam in nubibus apparent, quaedam supra nubes, cum aer spissus ignem, quem propior terris diu pauerat, usque in sidera expressit.

[15,2] Of these fulgores some go headlong, like shooting stars springing forth; some remain in a fixed place and emit so much light that they put flight to the shadows and re-present day, until, their nourishment consumed, they are first more obscure, then, in the manner of a flame that falls in upon itself, through continual diminution they are reduced to nothing. Of these, some appear in the clouds, some above the clouds, when the dense air has expressed up to the stars the fire which, being nearer to the earth, it had long fed.

[15,3] Horum aliqua non patiuntur moram sed transcurrunt aut extinguntur subinde, qua reluxerant: haec fulgura dicuntur, quia breuis illorum facies et caduca est nec sine iniuria decidens; saepe enim fulminum noxas ediderunt. Ab his tacta nos dicimus <fulgurita, id est fulgure> icta sine fulmine, quae G-asteroplekta Graeci uocant.

[15,3] Some of these do not endure delay but run across or are forthwith extinguished where they had re-shone: these are called fulgura, because their appearance is brief and falling, nor does it descend without injury; for they have often produced the harms of thunderbolts. Things touched by these we call <fulgurita, that is by fulgur>, struck without a thunderbolt, which the Greeks call G-asteroplekta.

[15,4] At quibus longior mora est et ignis fortior motumque caeli sequens aut etiam proprios cursus agunt, cometas nostri putant, de quibus dictum est. Horum genera sunt pogoniae et cyparissiae et lampades et alia omnia, quorum ignis in exitu sparsus est; dubium, an inter hos ponantur trabes et pithiae raro uisi: multa enim conglobatione ignium indigent, cum ingens illorum orbis aliquantum matutini amplitudinem solis exuperet.

[15,4] But those for which the delay is longer and the fire stronger, and which, following the motion of the sky, or even drive their own courses, our people think to be comets, about which mention has been made. The kinds of these are pogoniae and cyparissiae and lampades and all the others, whose fire is scattered at the extremity; it is doubtful whether among these are to be placed the beams and the pithiae, rarely seen: for they require a great conglobation of fires, since their vast orb somewhat surpasses the amplitude of the morning sun.

[15,5] Inter haec licet ponas et quod frequenter in historiis legimus caelum ardere uisum, cuius nonnumquam tam sublimis ardor est, ut inter sidera ipsa uideatur, nonnumquam tam humilis, ut speciem longinqui incendii praebeat. Sub Tiberio Caesare cohortes in auxilium Ostiensis coloniae cucurrerunt tamquam conflagrantis, cum caeli ardor fuisset per magnam partem noctis parum lucidus, <ut> crassi fumidique ignis.

[15,5] Among these you may also place what we frequently read in histories: the sky seen to burn; whose ardor is sometimes so sublime that it appears among the stars themselves, sometimes so low that it presents the aspect of a distant conflagration. Under Tiberius Caesar, cohorts ran to the aid of the Ostian colony as though it were in conflagration, since the ardor of the sky had been through a great part of the night scarcely luminous, like that of a thick and smoky fire, <ut> crassi fumidique ignis.

[15,6] De his nemo dubitat, quin habeant flammam, quam ostendunt: certa illis substantia est. De prioribus quaeritur (de arcu dico et coronis), decipiant aciem et mendacio constent an in illis quoque uerum sit, quod apparet.

[15,6] About these no one doubts that they have a flame, which they show: a definite substance is theirs. About the former there is inquiry (I speak of the bow and the crowns), whether they deceive the sight and consist of mendacity, or whether in them too the truth is what appears.

[15,7] Nobis non placet in arcu aut corona subesse aliquid corporis certi, sed illam iudicamus speculi esse fallaciam alienum corpus nihil aliud quam mentientis. Non est enim quod in speculo ostenditur. Alioquin non exiret nec alia protinus imagine obduceretur, nec innumerabiles modo interirent modo exciperentur formae.

[15,7] It does not please us to suppose that in the bow or the crown there underlies anything of a definite body, but we judge it to be a mirror’s fallacy—an alien body, nothing other than something mendacious. For what is shown in the mirror is not what is there. Otherwise it would not go out, nor be immediately covered over by another image, nor would innumerable forms now perish, now be taken up.

[15,8] Quid ergo? Simulacra ista sunt et inanis uerorum corporum imitatio, quae ipsa a quibusdam ita compositis, ut hoc possint, detorquentur in prauum. Nam, ut dixi, sunt specula, quae faciem prospicientium obliquent, sunt quae in infinitum augeant, ita ut humanum habitum modumque excedant nostrorum corporum.

[15,8] What then? These are simulacra and an empty imitation of true bodies, which themselves, being constructed by certain persons in such a way that they can do this, are twisted into the crooked. For, as I said, there are mirrors which distort the face of those looking, there are those which enlarge into infinity, such that they exceed the human appearance and the measure of our bodies.

[16,1] Hoc loco uolo tibi narrare fabellam, ut intellegas, quam nullum instrumentum irritandae uoluptatis libido contemnat et ingeniosa sit ad incitandum furorem suum. Hostius fuit Quadra, obscenitatis in scaenam usque productae. Hunc diuitem auarum, sestertii milies seruum, diuus Augustus indignum uindicta iudicauit, cum a seruis occisus esset, et tantum non pronuntiauit iure caesum uideri.

[16,1] At this point I want to tell you a little fable, so that you may understand how lust scorns no instrument for inciting pleasure and is ingenious in goading on its own frenzy. Hostius there was Quadra, of an obscenity carried even onto the stage. This man, rich and avaricious, a slave of 1,000,000,000 sesterces, the deified Augustus judged unworthy of vengeance, when he had been killed by his slaves, and he all but pronounced that he seemed to have been slain with right.

[16,2] Non erat ille ab uno tantummodo sexu impurus, sed tam uirorum quam feminarum auidus fuit, fecitque specula huius notae, cuius modo rettuli, imagines longe maiores reddentia, in quibus digitus brachii mensuram et crassitudinem excederet. Haec autem ita disponebat, ut cum uirum ipse pateretur, auersus omnes admissarii sui motus in speculo uideret ac deinde falsa magnitudine ipsius membri tamquam uera gaudebat.

[16,2] He was not unchaste with only one sex, but was eager for both men and women, and he made mirrors of this sort, of which I have just related, rendering images far larger, in which a finger would exceed the measure and thickness of an arm. Moreover, he arranged these so that, when he himself was undergoing a man, turned away he might see in the mirror all the motions of his admissary, and then he rejoiced in the false magnitude of that member as if it were true.

[16,3] In omnibus quidem balneis agebat ille dilectum et aperta mensura legebat uiros, sed nihilominus mendaciis quoque insatiabile malum oblectabat. I nunc et dic speculum munditiarum causa repertum. Foeda dictu sunt, quae portentum illud ore suo lancinandum dixerit feceritque, cum illi specula ab omni parte opponerentur, ut ipse flagitiorum suorum spectator esset et, quae secreta quoque conscientiam premunt quaeque <qui facit> sibi quisque fecisse se negat, non in os tantum sed in oculos suos ingereret.

[16,3] In all the baths, indeed, he conducted a selection and with an open measure he chose men, yet nonetheless he also amused his insatiable evil with mendacities. Go now and say that the mirror was discovered for the sake of cleanliness. Foul to tell are the things for which you would declare that that portent ought to have his own mouth lacerated—the things he both said and did—when mirrors were set against him from every side, so that he himself might be the spectator of his own disgraces, and he might thrust upon himself, not only into his mouth but into his eyes, the things which, even when secret, weigh upon the conscience and which each man denies that he has done to himself.

[16,4] At hercule scelera conspectum sui reformidant. In perditis quoque et ad omne dedecus expositis tenerrima est oculorum uerecundia. Ille, quasi parum esset inaudita et incognita pati, oculos suos ad illa aduocauit nec quantum peccabat uidere contentus, specula sibi per quae flagitia sua diuideret disponeretque circumdedit; et quia non tam diligenter intueri poterat, cum caput merserat inguinibusque alienis obhaeserat, opus sibi suum per imagines offerebat.

[16,4] But, by Hercules, crimes dread the sight of themselves. Even in the lost and in those exposed to every disgrace, the modesty of the eyes is most tender. He, as though it were too little to suffer unheard-of and unknown things, summoned his eyes to those; and, not content to see how much he was sinning, he surrounded himself with mirrors by which he might divide and dispose his flagitious deeds; and because he could not gaze so diligently, when he had plunged his head and had stuck fast to others’ groins, he was offering his own work to himself through images.

[16,5] Spectabat illam libidinem oris sui, spectabat admissos sibi pariter in omnia uiros; nonnumquam inter marem et feminam distributus et toto corpore patientiae expositus spectabat nefanda: quidnam homo impurus reliquit, quod in tenebris faceret? Non pertimuit diem, sed illos concubitus portentuosos sibi ipse ostendit, sibi ipse approbauit: quem non putes in ipso habitu pingi noluisse?

[16,5] He beheld that libido of his mouth, he beheld the men admitted to him, alike for all things; sometimes apportioned between male and female, and with his whole body exposed to passivity, he looked upon unspeakable things: what, pray, did the impure man leave to do in the dark? He did not dread the day, but he himself displayed to himself those monstrous couplings, he himself approved them for himself: who would you not think would have been willing to be painted in that very posture?

[16,6] Est aliqua etiam prostitutis modestia et illa corpora publico obiecta ludibrio aliquid, quo infelix patientia lateat obtendunt; adeo in quaedam lupanar quoque uerecundum est. At illud monstrum obscenitatem suam spectaculum fecerat et ea sibi ostentabat, quibus abscondendis nulla satis alta nox est.

[16,6] There is some modesty even in the prostituted, and those bodies exposed to public derision put forward something by which their wretched sufferance may lie hidden; so much so that in certain respects even a brothel is bashful. But that monster had made his obscenity a spectacle, and was displaying to himself those things for the hiding of which no night is sufficiently deep.

[16,7] "Simul, inquit, et uirum et feminam patior; nihilominus illa quoque superuacua mihi parte alicuius contumelia marem exerceo; omnia membra stupris occupata sunt: oculi quoque in partem libidinis ueniant et testes eius exactoresque sint; etiam ea, quae a conspectu corporis nostri positio submouit, arte uisantur, ne quis me putet nescire, quid faciam.

[16,7] "At once," he says, "I endure both the man and the woman; nonetheless I also, with that part superfluous to me, by the contumely of someone, exercise the male; all the members are occupied with debaucheries: let the eyes also come into the share of libido and be its witnesses and its exactors; even those things which position has removed from the sight of our body, let them be viewed by artifice, lest anyone think me not to know what I do.

[16,8] Nil egit natura, quod humanae libidini ministeria tam maligna dedit, quod aliorum animalium concubitus melius instruxit: inueniam, quemadmodum morbo meo et imponam et satisfaciam. Quo nequitiam meam, si ad naturae modum pecco? Id genus speculorum circumponam mihi, quod incredibilem magnitudinem imaginum reddat.

[16,8] Nature has accomplished nothing, in that it has given to human lust such malignant ministrations, in that it has better equipped the coupling of other animals: I will find how I may both impose upon and satisfy my disease. Wherein is my wickedness, if I sin according to nature’s measure? I will set around me that kind of mirrors which renders an incredible magnitude of images.

[16,9] Si liceret mihi, ad uerum ista perducerem: quia non licet, mendacio pascar. Obscenitas mea plus quam capit uideat et patientiam suam ipsa miretur". Facinus indignum! Hic fortasse cito et antequam uideret occisus est: ad speculum suum immolandus fuit.

[16,9] If it were permitted me, I would bring these things to the real thing: because it is not permitted, I feed on mendacity. Let my obscenity see more than it can hold, and let it itself marvel at its own patience." A deed unworthy! This man perhaps was killed quickly and before he saw: he ought to have been immolated to his mirror.

[I7,1] Derideantur nunc philosophi, quod de speculi natura disserant; quod inquirant, quid ita facies nostra nobis et quidem in nos obuersa reddatur; quid sibi rerum natura uoluerit, quae, cum uera corpora edidisset, etiam simulacra eorum aspici uoluit;

[I7,1] Let philosophers now be derided, because they discourse about the nature of the mirror; because they inquire why thus our face is returned to us, and indeed as turned toward us; what the nature of things has wished for itself, which, when it had brought forth true bodies, also willed that their simulacra be beheld;

[17,2] quorsus pertinuerit hanc comparare materiam excipiendarum imaginum potentem: non in hoc scilicet, ut ad speculum barbam uelleremus aut ut faciem uiri poliremus (in nulla re illa luxuriae negotium concessit); sed primum omnium, quia imbecilli oculi ad sustinendum comminus solem ignoraturi erant formam eius, hebetato illum lumine ostendit. Quamuis enim orientem occidentemque eum contemplari liceat, tamen habitum eius ipsum, qui uerus est, non rubentis sed candida luce fulgentis nesciremus, nisi in aliquo nobis umore lenior et aspici facilior occurreret.

[17,2] to what end it has pertained to prepare this material, potent for receiving images: not for this, to wit, that at a mirror we should pluck the beard or that we should polish a man's face (in no matter did it grant a business to luxury); but first of all, because feeble eyes, in sustaining the sun at close quarters, were going to be ignorant of its form, it shows him with a dulled light. Although indeed it is permitted to contemplate him both when rising and when setting, nevertheless we should not know his very aspect, which is the true one, not reddening but shining with candid light, unless in some moisture, gentler to us and easier to behold, he presented himself.

[17,3] Praeterea duorum siderum occursum, quo interpolari dies solet, non uideremus nec scire possemus, quid esset, nisi liberius humi solis lunaeque imagines uideremus.

[17,3] Moreover, we would not see the meeting of the two stars, by which the day is wont to be interpolated, nor could we know what it was, unless we more freely saw upon the ground the images of the sun and the moon.

[17,4] Inuenta sunt specula, ut homo ipse se nosset, multa ex hoc consecuturus, primum sui notitiam, deinde ad quaedam consilium: formosus, ut uitaret infamiam; deformis, ut sciret redimendum esse uirtutibus quicquid corpori deesset; iuuenis, ut flore aetatis admoneretur illud tempus esse discendi et fortia audendi; senex, ut indecora canis deponeret, ut de morte aliquid cogitaret. Ad haec rerum natura facultatem nobis dedit nosmet ipsos uidendi

[17,4] Mirrors were invented so that man himself might know himself, about to gain many things from this: first, knowledge of himself; then counsel for certain matters: the beautiful, that he might avoid infamy; the deformed, that he might know that whatever was lacking to the body must be redeemed by virtues; the young man, that in the flower of age he be admonished that that time is for learning and for daring brave things; the old man, that he lay aside things unbecoming to gray hairs, that he think something about death. Besides, the nature of things gave us the faculty of seeing our very selves.

[17,5] Fons cuique perlucidus aut leue saxum imaginera reddit: "nuper me in litore uidi, cum placidum uentis staret mare." Qualem fuisse cultum putas ad hoc se speculum comentium? Aetas illa simplicior et fortuitis contenta nondum in uitium beneficia detorquebat nec inuenta naturae in libidinem luxumque rapiebat.

[17,5] A pellucid spring for anyone, or a smooth rock, gives back an image: "lately I saw myself on the shore, when, with the winds at rest, the sea stood placid." What sort of grooming do you think there was in a man contriving for himself a mirror for this purpose? That age, more simple and content with fortuitous things, did not yet twist benefactions into vice nor snatch nature’s inventions into lust and luxury.

[17,6] Primo faciem suam cuique casus ostendit. Deinde cum insitus sui mortalibus amor dulcem aspectum formae suae faceret, saepius ea despexere, in quibus effigies suas uiderant. Postquam deterior populus ipsas subiit terras effossurus obruenda, ferrum primum in usu fuit (et id impune homines eruerant, si solum eruissent), tunc deinde alia terre mala, quorum leuitas aliud agentibus speciem suam obtulit, quam hic in poculo ille in aere ad alios usus comparato uidit; et mox huic proprie ministerio praeparatus est orbis nondum argenti nitor sed fraglis uilisque materia.

[17,6] First, chance showed to each his own face. Then, since an inborn love of self made to mortals the sight of their own form sweet, they more often looked down into those things in which they had seen their effigies. After a worse people went down into the very earth, about to dig up things that ought to be covered over, iron was first in use (and men would have unearthed it with impunity, if they had unearthed it alone); then next came other evils of the earth, whose smoothness offered their image to people while they were doing something else—this one saw it in a cup, that one in bronze fashioned for other uses; and soon a disk was prepared for this proper ministry, not yet the brilliance of silver, but of fragile and cheap material.

[17,7] Tunc quoque, cum antiqui illi uiri incondite uiuerent, satis nitidi, si squalorem opere collectum aduerso flumine eluerant, cura comere capillum fuit ac prominentem barbam depectere, sed in hac re sibi quisque, non alteri in uicem, operam dabat. <ne> coniugum quidem manu crinis ille, quem effundere olim mos uiris fuit, attrectabatur, sed illum sibi ipsi sine ullo artifice formosi quatiebant, non aliter quam iubam generosa animalia.

[17,7] Then too, when those ancient men lived in an incondite way, they were sufficiently neat, if they washed out by the opposing stream the squalor collected from work; there was a care to comb the hair and to comb out the prominent beard, but in this matter each one gave effort to himself, not to another in turn. Not even by the hand of wives was that hair, which once it was the custom for men to let flow, handled; but the handsome would shake it into form for themselves without any artificer, no otherwise than noble-bred animals their mane.

[17,8] Postea, iam rerum potiente luxuria, specula totis paria corporibus auro argentoque caelata sunt, gemmis deinde adornata; et pluris unum ex his feminae constitit, quam antiquarum dos fuit illa, quae publice dabatur imperatorum pauperum liberis. An tu existimas auro inditum habuisse Scipionis filias speculum, cum illis dos fuisset aes graue?

[17,8] Afterwards, with luxury now holding sway over affairs, full-length mirrors were chased in gold and silver, then adorned with gems; and a single one of these cost a woman more than that dowry of the ancients which was publicly given by emperors to the children of the poor. Or do you suppose that the daughters of Scipio had a mirror inlaid with gold, when for them the dowry had been heavy bronze (aes grave)?

[17,9] O felix paupertas, quae tanto titulo locum fecit! Non dedisset illis dotem, si habuissent. At quisquis ille erat, cui soceri loco senatus fuit, intellexit accepisse se dotem, quam fas non esset reddere.

[17,9] O happy poverty, which made room for so great a title! He would not have given them a dowry, if they had had one. But whoever that man was, for whom the Senate was in the place of a father-in-law, understood that he had received a dowry which it would not be right to return.

Iam libertinorum uirgunculis in unum speculum non sufficit illa dos, quam dedit p<opulus> Ro<manus> animose.

By now for the freedmen’s little maidens, that dowry which the Roman people gave courageously does not suffice for a single mirror.

[17,10] Processit enim paulatim in deterius opibus ipsis inritata luxuria, et incrementum ingens uitia ceperunt, adeoque omnia indiscreta sunt diuersissimis artibus, ut quicquid mundus muliebris uocabatur, sarcinae uiriles sint: omnes dico, etiam militares. Iam speculum ornatus tantum causa adhibetur? Nulli non uitio necessarium factum est.

[17,10] For luxury, little by little proceeding into the worse, irritated by the riches themselves, and the vices took on an enormous increment, and to such a degree all things are indiscrete by the most diverse arts, that whatever was called the women’s gear are men’s baggage: all of them, I say, even military. Now is the mirror employed only for the sake of adornment? There is no vice for which it has not been made necessary.