Seneca: QUAESTIONES NATURALES

[1,1] Pompeios, celebrem Campaniae urbem, in quam ab altera parte Surrentinum Stabianumque litus, ab altera Herculanense conueniunt et mare ex aperto reductum amoeno sinu cingunt, consedisse terrae motu uexatis quaecumque adiacebant regionibus, Lucili, uirorum optime, audiuimus, et quidem hibernis diebus, quos uacare a tali periculo maiores nostri solebant promittere.

[1,1] Pompeii, the celebrated city of Campania, into which from the one side the Surrentine and Stabian shore, from the other the Herculanean,
come together and, the sea drawn back from the open, gird with a pleasant bay,
has subsided, the neighboring regions, whatever adjoined, being vexed by an earthquake—
we have heard this, Lucilius, best of men—and indeed in hibernal days,
which our ancestors were wont to promise would be free from such peril.

[1,2] Nonis Februariis hic fuit motus Regulo et Uerginio consulibus, qui Campaniam, numquam securam huius mali, indemnem tamen et totiens defunctam metu, magna strage uastauit: nam et Herculanensis oppidi pars ruit dubieque stant etiam quae relicta sunt, et Nucerinorum colonia ut sine clade ita non sine querela est; Neapolis quoque priuatim multa, publice nihil amisit leuiter ingenti malo perstricta: uillae uero prorutae, passim sine iniuria tremuere.

[1,2] On the Nones of February, with Regulus and Verginius as consuls, this quake, which devastated Campania—never secure from this evil, yet unharmed and so often discharged with fear—by a great massacre laid it waste: for a part of the town of Herculaneum collapsed, and even what remains stands precariously; and the colony of the Nucerini, though without disaster, was not without complaint; Naples too lost many things privately, nothing publicly, lightly grazed by an immense evil: country villas indeed were overthrown, and far and wide they trembled without injury.

[1,3] Adiciuntur his illa: sexcentarum ouium gregem exanimatum et diuisas statuas, motae post hoc mentis aliquos atque impotentes sui errasse. Quorum ut causas excutiamus, et propositi operis contextus exigit et ipse in hoc tempus congruens casus.

[1,3] To these are added the following: a flock of six hundred sheep lifeless, and statues split apart; after this, some, their minds having been moved and impotent over themselves, wandered. To examine the causes of which, both the context of the proposed work requires and the occurrence itself, congruent to this time.

[1,4] Quaerenda sunt trepidis solacia et demendus ingens timor. Quid enim cuiquam satis tutum uideri potest, si mundus ipse concutitur et partes eius solidissimae labant? Si quod unum immobile est in illo fixumque, ut cuncta in se intenta sustineat, fluctuatur; si quod proprium habet terra perdidit, stare: ubi tandem resident metus nostri?

[1,4] Solaces must be sought for the trembling, and the immense fear must be lessened. What indeed can seem safe enough to anyone, if the world itself is shaken and its most solid parts waver? If that which alone is immobile in it and fixed, so that it may sustain all things set upon it, fluctuates; if the earth has lost what it has as its proper attribute, to stand fast: where, at last, do our fears reside?

Quod corpora receptaculum inuenient, quo sollicita confugiant, si ab imo metus nascitur et funditus trahitur?

What receptacle will bodies find, whither, anxious, they may flee for refuge, if fear is born from the very bottom and is drawn up from the very foundation?

[1,5] Consternatio omnium est, ubi tecta crepuerunt et ruina signum dedit. Tunc praeceps quisque se proripit et penates suos deserit ac se publico credit: quam latebram prospicimus, quod auxilium, si orbis ipse ruinas agitat, si hoc quod nos tuetur ac sustinet, supra quod urbes sitae sunt, quod fundamentum quidam mundi esse dixerunt, discedit ac titubat?

[1,5] Consternation is universal, when the roofs have cracked and ruin has given the signal. Then each man, headlong, flings himself forth and deserts his Penates, and commits himself to the open: what hiding-place do we foresee, what aid, if the world itself sets ruins in motion, if that which protects and sustains us, that upon which cities are situated, which some have said to be the foundation of the world, gives way and totters?

[1,6] Quid tibi esse non dico auxilii sed solacii potest, ubi timor fugam perdidit? Quid est, inquam, satis munitum, quid ad tutelam alterius ac sui firmum? Hostem muro repellam, et praeruptae altitudinis castella uel magnos exercitus difficultate aditus morabuntur; a tempestate nos uindicat portus; nimborum uim effusam et sine fine cadentes aquas tecta propellunt; fugientes non sequitur incendium; aduersus tonitruum et minas caeli subterraneae domus et defossi in altum specus remedia sunt (ignis ille caelestis non transuerberat terram sed exiguo eius obiectu retunditur); in pestilentia mutare sedes licet: nullum malum sine effugio est.

[1,6] What, I do not say of aid but of solace, can there be for you,
where fear has lost flight? What,
I say, is sufficiently fortified, what is firm for the protection of another and of oneself?
I shall repel the enemy with a wall, and fortresses of precipitous height
or the difficulty of access will delay even great armies; from a storm
a harbor protects us; the roofs drive off the force of storm-clouds and the waters poured out and falling without end;
a conflagration does not follow those fleeing;
against thunder and the threats of the sky underground houses and
caverns dug deep are remedies (that celestial fire does not
transfix the earth but is blunted by a slight interposition of it); in a pestilence
it is permitted to change abodes: no evil is without an escape.

[1,7] Numquam fulmina populos perusserunt; pestilens caelum exhaisit urbes, non abstulit: hoc malum latissime patet ineuitabile, auidum, publice noxium. Non enim domos solum aut familias aut urbes singulas haurit, gentes totas regionesque submergit et modo ruinis operit, modo in altam uoraginem condit ac ne id quidem relinquit ex quo appareat quod non est saltem fuisse, sed supra nobilissimas urbes sine ullo uestigio prioris habitus solum extenditur.

[1,7] Never have thunderbolts seared peoples; a pestilent sky drained cities, it did not take them away: this evil spreads most widely—inevitable, avid, publicly noxious. For it does not drink down only houses or households or single cities; it submerges whole peoples and regions, and now it covers them with ruins, now it hides them in a deep vorago, and it does not even leave that from which it might appear that what is not at least has been, but above the most noble cities, without any vestige of their prior habit, the soil stretches out.

[1,8] Nec desunt qui hoc genus mortis magis timeant quo in abruptum cum sedibus suis eunt et e uiuorum numero uiui auferuntur, tamquam non omne fatum ad eundem terminum ueniat. Hoc habet inter cetera iustitiae suae natura praecipuum quod, cum ad exitum uentum est, omnes in aequo sumus.

[1,8] Nor are there lacking those who fear this genus of death more
fear it, whereby into the precipice with their dwellings they go and from the living
number, while alive, they are removed, as though not every fate came to the same
terminus. Nature has this preeminent among the other points of its justice,
that, when it has come to the exit, we all are on equal
footing.

[1,9] Nihil itaque interest utrum me lapis unus elidat, an monte toto premar; utrum supra me domus unius onus ueniat et sub exiguo eius cumulo ac puluere exspirem, an totus caput meum terrarum orbis abscondat; in luce hunc et in aperto spiritum reddam an in uasto terrarum dehiscentium sinu; solus in illud profundum an cum magno comitatu populorum concadentium ferar; nihil interest mea quantus circa mortem meam tumultus sit: ipsa ubique tantundem est.

[1,9] Therefore it makes no difference whether one stone dashes me to pieces, or
I am pressed by a whole mountain; whether the burden of a single house comes upon me and
I expire beneath its small heap and dust, or the whole orb of the earth
hides my head; whether I give back this breath in the light and in the open,
or in the vast bosom of the gaping lands; whether I am borne alone into that
depth, or with a great company of peoples collapsing together;
it makes no difference to me how great the tumult around my death
is: the thing itself is everywhere just the same.

[1,10] Proinde magnum sumamus animum aduersus istam cladem, quae nec euitari nec prouideri potest, desinamusque audire istos, qui Campaniae renuntiauerunt quique post hunc casum emigrauerunt negantque ipsos umquam in illam regionem accessuros: quis enim illis promittit melioribus fundamentis hoc aut illud solum stare?

[1,10] Accordingly let us take up great courage
against that calamity, which can neither be avoided nor
foreseen, and let us cease to listen to those who have renounced Campania
and who, after this accident, have emigrated, and who declare
that they themselves will never approach that region: for who to them
promises that this or that soil stands on better foundations?

[1,11] Omnia eiusdem sortis sunt et, si nondum mota, tamen mobilia: hunc fortasse in quo securius consistitis locum haec nox aut hic ante noctem dies scindet. Unde scis an <non> melior eorum locorum condicio sit in quibus iam uires suas fortuna consumpsit et quae in futurum ruina sua fulta sunt?

[1,11] All things are of the same lot, and, if not yet moved, yet movable: this place on which you stand more securely, perhaps this night or this day before nightfall will split apart. How do you know whether the condition of those places is not better in which Fortune has already spent her forces, and which for the future are propped by their own ruin?

[1,12] Erramus enim, si ullam terrarum partem exceptam immunemque ab hoc periculo credimus: omnes sub eadem iacent lege; nihil ita ut immobile esset natura concepit; alia temporibus aliis cadunt et, quemadmodum in urbibus magnis nunc haec domus nunc illa suspenditur, ita in hoc orbe terrarum nunc haec pars facit uitium nunc illa.

[1,12] We err for, if we believe any part of the lands to be excepted and immune from this peril: all lie under the same law; nature conceived nothing as immovable; different things fall at different times, and, just as in great cities now this house now that is propped up, so in this orb of lands now this part develops a fault, now that.

[1,13] Tyros aliquando infamis ruinis fuit, Asia duodecim urbes simul perdidit; anno priore in Achaiam et Macedoniam, quaecumque est ista uis mali quae incurrit, nunc Campaniam laesit: circumit fatum et, si quid diu praeteriit, repetit. Quaedam rarius sollicite, saepius quaedam: nihil immune esse et innoxium sinit.

[1,13] Tyre was at one time infamous for ruins, Asia lost 12 cities at once; in the previous year into Achaea and Macedonia, whatever that force of evil is which rushes in, now it has struck Campania: fate makes its rounds and, if it has long passed anything by, it returns to it. Some more rarely, others more often: it allows nothing to be exempt and unharmed.

[1,14] Non homines tantum, qui breuis et caduca res nascimur, urbes oraeque terrarum et litora et ipsum mare in seruitutem fati uenit. Nos tamen nobis permansura promittimus bona fortunae, et felicitatem, cuius ex omnibus rebus humanis uelocissima est leuitas, habituram in aliquo pondus ac moram credimus;

[1,14] Not human beings only, who are born a brief and caducous thing, but cities and the coasts of the lands and the shores and the sea itself come into the servitude of fate. Yet we promise to ourselves as permanent the goods of Fortune, and we believe that felicity, whose of all human things the swiftest is its levity, will have some weight in some measure and a delay, we believe;

[1,15] et perpetua sibi omnia promittentibus in mentem non uenit id ipsum supra quod stamus stabile non esse. Neque enim Campaniae istud aut Achaiae sed omnis soli uitium est, male cohaerere et ex causis pluribus solui et summa manere, partibus ruere.

[1,15] and to those promising to themselves all things perpetual
it does not come into mind that that very thing upon which we stand is not stable.
For this is not a defect of Campania or of Achaia but of every
soil: to cohere badly and to be dissolved from multiple causes, and
for the sum to remain, the parts to collapse.

[2,1] Quid ago? Solacium aduersus pericula rara promiseram: ecce undique timenda denuntio, nego quicquam esse quietis aeternae, quod perire possit et perdere. Ego uero hoc ipsum solacii loco pono et quidem ualentissimi, quando quidem sine remedio timor stultis est: ratio terrorem prudentibus excutit; imperitis magna fit ex desperatione securitas.

[2,1] What am I doing? I had promised a rare solace against perils:
behold, I announce things-to-be-feared from every side, I deny that there is anything of eternal quiet which can perish or be lost. I, for my part, set this very thing in the place of solace, and indeed a most potent one, since fear is without remedy for fools: reason shakes off terror for the prudent; for the unskilled, from desperation arises great security.

[2,2] Hoc itaque generi humano dictum puta quod illis subita captiuitate inter ignes et hostem stupentibus dictum est: "una salus uictis nulllam sperare salutem."

[2,2] Therefore suppose this to have been said to the human race, what was said to those in sudden captivity
between fires and the enemy, as they stood stunned:
"The one salvation for the conquered is to hope for no salvation."

[2,3] Si uultis nihil timere, cogitate omnia esse metuenda; circumspicite quam leuibus causis discutiamur: non cibus nobis, non umor, non uigilia, non somnus sine mensura quadam salubria sunt; iam intellegetis nugatoria esse nos et imbecilla corpuscula, fluida, non magna molitione perdenda. Sine dubio id unum periculi nobis est quod tremunt terrae, quod subito dissipantur ac superposita deducunt!

[2,3] If you want to fear nothing, think that all things are to be feared; look around at how by most slight causes we are scattered: neither food for us, nor moisture, nor vigil, nor sleep are salubrious without a certain measure; you will now understand that we are nugatory and imbecile little bodies, fluid, requiring no great exertion to be destroyed. Without doubt there is for us this one peril: that the lands tremble, that they are suddenly dissipated and draw down the superposed things!

[2,4] Magni se aestimat qui fulmina et motus terrarum hiatusque formidat. Uult ille imbecillitatis sibi suae conscius timere pituitam? Ita uidelicet nati sumus, tam felicia sortiti membra, in hanc magnitudinem creuimus!

[2,4] He esteems himself great who dreads thunderbolts and the motions of the earth and yawning chasms. Does he, conscious to himself of his own imbecility, wish to fear phlegm? So, forsooth, we were born, having been allotted such felicitous members, we have grown to this magnitude!

Et ob hoc, nisi mundi partibus motis, nisi caelum intonuerit, nisi terra subsederit, perire non possumus!

And on account of this, unless the parts of the world have been moved, unless the heaven has thundered, unless the earth has subsided, we cannot perish!

[2,5] Unguiculi nos et ne totius quidem dolor sed aliqua ab latere eius scissura conficit! Et ego timeam terras trementes, quem crassior saliua suffocat? Ego extimescam emotum sedibus suis mare, et ne aestus maiore quam solet cursu plus aquarum trahens superueniat, cum quosdam strangulauerit potio male lapsa per fauces?

[2,5] A little fingernail—and not even the pain of it entire, but some split from its side—lays us low! And shall I fear the earth trembling, I whom thicker saliva suffocates? Shall I be exceedingly afraid of the sea removed from its seats, and lest the tide, drawing more waters with a course greater than is usual, should supervene, when a potion, having slipped ill through the throat, has strangled some?

Quam stultum est mare horrere, cum scias stillicidio perire te posse!

How foolish it is to shudder at the sea, when you know that you can perish by stillicide!

[2,6] Nullum maius solacium est mortis quam ipsa mortalitas, nullum autem omnium istorum quae extrinsecus terrent quam quod innumerabilia pericula in ipso sinu sunt. Quid enim dementius quam ad tonitrua succidere et sub terram correpere fulminum metu? Quid stultius quam timere nutationem terrae aut subitos montium lapsus et irruptiones maris extra litus eiecti, cum mors ubique praesto sit et undique occurrat nihilque sit tam exiguum quod non in perniciem generis humani satis ualeat?

[2,6] No greater solace of death than mortality itself,
no greater, moreover, among all those things which from outside terrify,
than this: that innumerable perils are in our very bosom. For what
more demented than to sink down at thunderclaps and to crawl under the earth
for fear of lightnings? What more foolish than to fear the nodding of the earth
or the sudden slips of mountains and the inrushes of the sea cast beyond the shore,
when death is everywhere at hand and meets us from every side, and there is nothing
so slight that it does not suffice for the destruction of the human race?

[2,7] Adeo non debent nos ista confundere, tamquam plus in se mali habeant quam uulgaris mors, ut contra, cum sit necessarium e uita exire et aliquando emittere animam, maiore perire ratione iuuet. Necesse est mori ubicumque, quandoque: stet licet ista humus et se teneat suis finibus nec ulla iactetur iniuria, supra me quandoque erit. <Quid> interest, ego illam mihi an ipsa se mihi imponat?

[2,7] To such an extent these things ought not to confound us, as though they had more evil in themselves than a common death, but on the contrary, since it is necessary to go out of life and at some time to emit the soul, it should even be a joy to perish with a greater reason. It is necessary to die somewhere, sometime: though this ground stand fast and hold itself within its own boundaries and be tossed by no injury, sometime it will be above me. <What> does it matter, whether I place it upon myself or it places itself upon me?

[2,8] Diducitur et ingenti potentia nescio cuius mali rumpitur et me in immensam altitudinem abducit; quid porro? Mors leuior in plano est? Quid habeo quod querar, si rerum natura me non uult iacere ignobili leto, si mihi inicit sui partem?

[2,8] It is split asunder and by the enormous potency of I-know-not-what evil it is ruptured and carries me off into immeasurable altitude; what then? Is death lighter on the level ground? What have I to complain of, if the nature of things does not wish me to lie in an ignoble death, if she throws upon me some part of herself?

[2,9] Egregie Uagellius meus in illo inclito carmine: "Si cadendum est", inquit, "e caelo cecidisse uelim". Idem licet dicere: si cadendum est, cadam orbe concusso, non quia fas est optare publicam cladem, sed quia ingens mortis solacium est terram quoque uidere mortalem.

[2,9] Excellently my Vagellius in that illustrious song: "If there must be a fall," he says, "I would wish to have fallen from the sky." Idem the same is permitted for me to say: if there must be a fall, let me fall with the orb shaken, not because it is right to desire a public calamity, but because it is a great solace of death to see the earth too mortal.

[3,1] Illud quoque proderit praesumere animo, nihil horum deos facere, nec ira numinum aut caelum concuti aut terram: suas ista causas habent nec ex imperio saeuiunt sed quibusdam uitiis ut corpora nostra turbantur et tunc, cum facere uidentur iniuriam, accipiunt.

[3,1] It will also be useful to anticipate in mind that the gods do none of these things, nor are the heaven and the earth shaken by the wrath of the numina: these things have their own causes, nor do they rage by command, but are disturbed by certain defects, as our bodies are, and then, when they seem to be doing injury, they are receiving it.

[3,2] Nobis autem ignorantibus uerum omnia terribiliora sunt, utique quorum metum raritas auget: leuius accidunt familiaria, at ex insolito formido maior est. Quare autem quicquam nobis insolitum est? Quia naturam oculis, non ratione, comprehendimus nec cogitamus quid illa facere possit, sed tantum quid fecerit.

[3,2] But for us, ignorant of the truth, all things are more terrible, especially those whose fear their rarity augments: the familiar befalls us more lightly, but from the unusual the dread is greater. And why, moreover, is anything unusual for us? Because we comprehend nature with our eyes, not with reason, nor do we consider what it can do, but only what it has done.

Damus itaque huius neglegentiae poenas tamquam nouis territi, cum illa non sint noua sed insolita.

We therefore pay the penalties of this negligence, as if terrified by novelties, although those things are not new but unusual.

[3,3] Quid ergo? Non religionem incutit mentibus, et quidem publice, siue deficere sol uisus est, siue luna, cuius obscuratio frequentior, aut parte sui aut tota delituit? Longeque magis illa, actae in transuersum faces et caeli magna pars ardens et crinita sidera et plures solis orbes et stellae per diem uisae subitique transcursus ignium multam post se lucem trahentium?

[3,3] What then? Does it not strike religion into minds, and indeed in public view, whether the sun has seemed to fail, or the moon—whose obscuration is more frequent—has hidden herself, either in part or wholly? And far more those: torches driven crosswise, and a great part of the sky burning, and crinite stars (comets), and several solar orbs, and stars seen by day, and sudden transits of fires dragging much light behind them?

[3,4] Nihil horum sine timore miramur: et cum timendi sit causa nescire, non est tanti scire, ne timeas? Quanto satius est causas inquirere, et quidem toto in hoc intentum animo! Neque enim illo quicquam inueniri dignius potest, cui se non tantum commodet sed impendat.

[3,4] None of these do we marvel at without fear; and since not-knowing is the cause of fearing, is it not worth the price to know, so that you may not fear? How much more advisable it is to inquire into the causes, and indeed with the whole mind intent upon this! For nothing more worthy can be found than that, to which one not only accommodates himself but also expends himself.

[4,1] Quaeramus ergo quid sit quod terram ab infimo moueat, quod tanti molem ponderis pellat; quid sit illa ualentius quod tantum onus ui sua labefactet; cur modo tremat, modo laxata subsidat, nunc in partes diuisa discedat et alias interuallum ruinae suae diu seruet, alias cito comprimat; nunc amnes magnitudinis notae conuertat introrsum, nunc nouos exprimat; aperiat aliquando aquarum calentium uenas, aliquando refrigeret, ignesque nonnumquam per aliquod ignotum antea montis aut rupis foramen emittat, aliquando notos et per saecula nobiles comprimat. Mille miracula mouet faciemque mutat locis et defert montes, subrigit plana, ualles extuberat, nouas in profundo insulas erigit: haec ex quibus causis accidant, digna res excuti.

[4,1] Let us therefore inquire what it is that moves the earth from its lowest depth, what it is that drives the mass of so great a weight; what that more potent thing is which by its own force shakes so great a burden; why at one time it trembles, at another loosened it subsides, now, divided into parts, it separates and in some places long preserves the interval of its ruin, in others it quickly compresses; now it turns back rivers of notable size, now it presses out new ones; at times it opens veins of hot waters, at times it cools them, and sometimes it emits fires through some previously unknown opening of a mountain or a cliff, at times it compresses those known and renowned through the ages. It sets a thousand marvels in motion and changes the face in places, and carries away mountains, raises level-lands, makes valleys bulge, raises new islands in the deep: from what causes these things happen, a matter worthy to be examined.

[4,2] Quod, inquis, erit pretium operae? Quo nullum maius est, nosse naturam. Neque enim quicquam habet in se huius materiae tractatio pulchrius, cum multa habeat futura usui, quam quod hominem magnificentia sui detinet nec mercede sed miraculo colitur.

[4,2] “What,” you ask, “will be the reward of the effort?” Than which none greater exists: to know nature. For the treatment of this material has nothing in it more beautiful, though it has many things that will be for future use, than that it detains man by its own magnificence and is cultivated not for a wage but for a miracle.

Inspiciamus ergo quid sit propter quod haec accidant: quorum adeo est mihi dulcis inspectio ut, quamuis aliquando de motu terrarum uolumen iuuenis ediderim, tamen temptare me uoluerim et experiri, <si> aetas aliquid nobis aut ad scientiam aut certe ad diligentiam adiecerit.

Let us therefore inspect what it is on account of which
these things happen: the inspection of which is so sweet to me that, although
as a young man I once published a volume on the motion of the earth,
yet I have wished to attempt and to experiment, if age has added anything to us
either to knowledge or at least to diligence.

[5,1] Causam qua terra concutitur alii in aqua esse, alii in ignibus, alii in ipsa terra, alii in spiritu putauerunt, alii in pluribus, alii in omnibus his; quidam liquere ipsis aliquam ex istis causam esse dixerunt, sed non liquere quae esset.

[5,1] The cause by which the earth is shaken, some have thought to be in water, some in
fires, some in the earth itself, some in spirit, some in several,
some in all these; certain people said it was clear to them that some
cause out of these existed, but that it was not clear which it was.

[5,2] Nunc singula persequar. Illud ante omnia mihi dicendum est, opiniones ueteres parum exactas esse et rudes: circa uerum adhuc errabatur; tur; noua omnia erant primo temptantibus; postea eadem illa limata sunt et, si quid inuentum est, illis nihilominus referri debet acceptum: magni animi res fuit rerum naturae latebras dimouere nec contentum exteriore eius aspectu introspicere et in deorum secreta descendere. Plurimum ad inueniendum contulit qui sperauit posse reperiri.

[5,2] Now I will pursue the particulars one by one. This before all I must say, that the ancient opinions
are too little exact and crude: around the true there was still erring;
all things were new to those first attempting; afterwards those same
were polished, and, if anything has been discovered, the credit must nonetheless be referred to them
as received: it was a matter of great spirit to dislodge the hiding-places of the nature of things
and, not content with its exterior aspect, to look within and to
descend into the secrets of the gods. He contributed very much to invention
who hoped that it could be discovered.

[5,3] Cum excusatione itaque ueteres audiendi sunt: nulla res consummata est, dum incipit; nec in hac tantum re omnium maxima atque inuolutissima (in qua, etiam cum multum acti erit, omnis tamen aetas quod agat inueniet) sed et in omni alio negotio longe semper a perfecto fuere principia.

[5,3] With an excuse, therefore, the ancients are to be listened to: nothing is consummated while it begins; nor in this matter only, the greatest and most involuted of all (in which, even when much will have been done, yet every age will find something to do), but also in every other business the beginnings have always been far from the perfect.

[6,1] In aqua causam esse nec ab uno dictum est nec uno modo. Thales Milesius totam terram subiecto iudicat umore portari et innare, siue illud oceanum uocas, siue magnum mare, siue alterius naturae simplicem adhuc aquam et umidum elementum. Hac, inquit, unda sustinetur orbis uelut aliquod grande nauigium et graue his aquis quas premit.

[6,1] That the cause is in water has been said not by a single person nor in a single
way. Thales of Miletus judges that the whole earth is borne and floats upon an underlying
moisture, whether you call it Ocean, or the great sea, or a water of another nature, still simple,
and the humid element. By this wave, he says, the orb is supported, like some great
ship, and is heavy upon those waters which it presses.

[6,2] Superuacuum est reddere causas propter quas existimat grauissimam partem mundi non posse spiritu tam tenui fugacique gestari; non enim nunc de situ terrarum sed de motu agitur. Illud argumenti loco ponit aquas esse in causa quibus hic orbis agitetur, quod in omni maiore motu erumpunt fere noui fontes (sicut in nauigiis quoque euenit ut, si inclinata sunt et abierunt in latus, aquam sorbeant, quae enormi eorum onere quae uehit, si immodice depressa sunt, aut superfunditur aut certe dextra sinistraque solito magis surgit).

[6,2] It is superfluous to render the causes on account of which he thinks the most weighty part of the world cannot be borne by so thin and fugitive a spirit; for now it is not about the site of the lands but about motion that the matter is treated. He puts this in place of an argument—that waters are the cause by which this orb is agitated—because in every greater motion new springs almost burst forth (just as it also happens in ships that, if they are inclined and have gone over to one side, they suck in water, and, under the enormous burden of the things they carry, if they are excessively pressed down, it either is poured over them or at any rate rises to the right and left more than usual).

[6,3] Hanc opinionem falsam esse non est diu colligendum: nam si terra aqua sustineretur, et ea aliquando concuteretur <et> semper moueretur, nec agitari illam miraremur sed manere; deinde tota concuteretur, non ex parte (numquam enim nauis dimidia iactatur); nunc uero terrarum non uniuersarum sed ex parte motus est: quomodo ergo fieri potest ut, quod totum uehitur, totum non agitetur, si eo quo uehitur agitatum est?

[6,3] It need not take long to infer that this opinion is false: for if the earth were sustained by water, and that were at some time shaken and were always in motion, we should not marvel that it is agitated but that it remains at rest; then too it would be shaken as a whole, not in part (for a ship is never tossed by halves); but as it is, the motion of the lands is not of all but of a part: how then can it come about that what is as a whole carried is not as a whole agitated, if that by which it is carried is agitated?

[6,4] "At quare aquae erumpunt?". Primum omnium saepe tremuit terra et nihil umoris noui fluxit; deinde si ex hac causa unda prorumperet, a lateribus terrae circumfunderetur (sicut in fluminibus ac mari uidemus incidere, ut incrementum aquarum, quotiens nauigia desidunt, in lateribus maxime appareat); ad ultimum non tam exigua fieret quam tu dicis eruptio nec uelut per rimam sentina subreperet, sed fieret ingens inundatio ut ex infinito liquore et ferente uniuersa.

[6,4] "But why do waters burst forth?". First of all the earth has often trembled and no new moisture has flowed; then, if from this cause a wave were to break forth, it would be poured around along the sides of the earth (as we see to occur in rivers and in the sea, that the increase of the waters, whenever ships settle down, appears most of all at the sides); finally, the eruption would not be so exiguous as you say, nor would bilge-water creep in as if through a crack, but there would be a vast inundation as from an infinite liquid, and one that bears everything along.

[7,1] Quidam motum terrarum aquae imputauerunt, sed non ex eadem causa. Per omnem, inquit, terram multa aquarum genera decurrunt: aliubi perpetui amnes, quorum nauigabilis etiam sine adiutorio imbrium magnitudo est: hinc Nilus, per aestatem ingentes aquas inuehit; hinc, qui medius inter pacata et hostilia fluit, Danuuius ac Rhenus, alter Sarmaticos impetus cohibens et Europam Asiamque disterminans, alter Germanos, auidam belli gentem, repellens.

[7,1] Certain people have attributed the earth’s movement to water, but not for the same reason. “Throughout the whole earth,” he says, “many kinds of waters run: elsewhere perpetual rivers, whose magnitude is navigable even without the aid of rains; here the Nile, which in summer conveys vast waters; and here, flowing midway between the pacified and the hostile, the Danube and the Rhine—the former restraining Sarmatian assaults and demarcating Europe and Asia, the latter repelling the Germans, a people greedy for war.”

[7,2] Adice nunc patentissimos lacus et stagna populis inter se ignotis circumdata et ineluctabiles nauigio paludes, ne ipsis quidem inter se peruias quibus incoluntur; deinde tot fontes, tot capita fluminum subitos et ex occulto amnes uomentia, tot deinde ad tempus collectos torrentium impetus, quorum uires quam repentinae tam breues.

[7,2] Add now the widest lakes and stagnant pools surrounded by peoples unknown to one another and marshes ineluctable to navigation, not even passable among themselves to the very people by whom they are inhabited; then so many springs, so many sudden heads of rivers and from concealment spewing forth rivers, then so many onrushes of torrents gathered for a time whose forces are as sudden as they are brief.

[7,3] Omnis aquarum et intra terram natura faciesque est: illic quoque aliae uasto cursu deferuntur et in praeceps uolutae cadunt, aliae languidiores in uadis refunduntur et leniter ac quiete fluunt; quis autem neget uastis illas receptaculis concipi et cessare multis inertes locis? Non est diu probandum ibi multas aquas esse, unde omnes sunt; neque enim sufficeret tellus ad tot flumina edenda, nisi ex reposito multoque funderet.

[7,3] All the nature and aspect of waters is also within the earth: there too some are borne along in a vast course and, rolled headlong, fall; others, more languid, are poured back into the shallows and flow gently and in quiet; and who would deny that they are taken up into vast receptacles and linger, inert, in many places? It does not need a long proof that there are many waters there whence all come; for the earth would not suffice to bring forth so many rivers, unless it poured from a stored-up and abundant supply.

[7,4] Si hoc uerum est, necesse est aliquando illic amnis excrescat et relictis ripis uiolentus in obstantia incurrat: sic fiet motus alicuius partis in quam flumen impetum dedit et quam, donec decrescat, uerberabit. Potest fieri ut aliquam regionem riuus affluens exedat ac secum trahat aliquam molem, qua lapsa superposita quatiantur.

[7,4] If this is true, it is necessary that at some time there the river swell and, its banks left behind, violently run upon the obstacles: thus there will be a movement of some part into which the river has given its impetus and which, until it subsides, it will lash. It can come about that an affluent stream eats away some region and drags along with itself some mass, by whose fall the superposed things are shaken.

[7,5] Iam uero nimis oculis permittit nec ultra illos scit producere animum, qui non credit esse in abdito terrae sinus maris uasti. Nec enim uideo quid prohibeat aut obstet quo minus habeat aliquod etiam in abdito litus et per occultos aditus receptum mare, quod illic quoque tantundem loci teneat aut fortassis hoc amplius quod superiora cum tot animalibus erant diuidenda: abstrusa enim et sine possessore deserta liberius undis uacant.

[7,5] Now indeed he allows too much to the eyes and does not know how to project his mind beyond them, who does not believe that in the hidden places of the earth there are bays of the vast sea. Nor do I see what forbids or obstructs, so that it should not have some shore even in the hidden depths, and a sea received through occult entrances, which there too might hold just as much space, or perhaps even more, because the upper regions had to be divided with so many animals: for hidden and ownerless deserts are more freely vacant for the waves.

[7,6] Quas quid uetat illic fluctuare et uentis, quos omne interuallum terrarum et omnis aer creat, impelli? Potest ergo maior solito exorta tempestas aliquam partem terrarum impulsam uehementius commouere. Nam apud nos quoque multa quae procul a mari fuerant subito eius accessu uapulauerunt et uillas in prospectu collocatas fluctus qui longe audiebatur inuasit; illic quoque potest accedere ac recedere pelagus infernum: quorum neutrum fit sine motu superstantium.

[7,6] What forbids those waves to billow there and to be driven by winds, which the whole interval of lands and all the air creates? Therefore a tempest greater than usual, having arisen, can more vehemently move some part of the lands it has struck. For among us too many things which had been far from the sea were suddenly battered by its approach, and a wave which was heard from afar invaded villas placed in prospect; there too the nether sea can advance and recede: neither of which happens without movement of the things standing above.

[8,1] Non quidem existimo diu te haesitaturum an credas esse subterraneos amnes et mare absconditum: unde enim ista prorepunt, unde ad nos ueniunt, nisi quod origo umoris inclusa est?

[8,1] I do not indeed suppose you will long hesitate whether to believe that there are
subterranean rivers and a hidden sea: for whence do these things creep forth,
whence do they come to us, unless that the origin of moisture is enclosed?

[8,2] Age, cum uides interruptum Tigrin in medio itinere siccari et non uniuersum auerti, sed paulatim non apparentibus damnis minui primum, deinde consumi, quo illum putas abire nisi in obscura terrarum, utique cum uideas emergere iterum non minorem eo qui prius fluxerat? Quid, cum uides Alpheon, celebratum poetis, in Achaia mergi et in Sicilia rursus traiecto mari effundere amoenissimum fontem Arethusam?

[8,2] Come now, when you see the Tigris, interrupted in the middle of its journey,
dry up and not be wholly diverted, but little by little, with losses not apparent,
first be diminished, then be consumed, where do you think it goes
except into the obscurities of the earth, especially since you see it emerge again
no smaller than that which had flowed before? What of when you see Alpheus,
celebrated by the poets, sink in Achaia and in Sicily in turn, the sea having been traversed,
pour forth the most delightful spring Arethusa?

[8,3] Nescis autem inter opiniones, quibus enarratur Nili aestiua inundatio, et hanc esse, a terra illum erumpere et augeri non supernis aquis sed ex intimo redditis? Ego quidem centuriones duos, quos Nero Caesar, ut aliarum uirtutum ita ueritatis in primis amantissimus, ad inuestigandum caput Nili miserat, audiui narrantes longum illos iter peregisse, cum a rege Aethiopiae instructi auxilio commendatique proximis regibus penetrassent ad ulteriorem.

[8,3] Do you not know that, among the opinions by which the Nile’s summer inundation is explained,
this too is one: that it bursts forth from the earth and is increased not by waters from above
but by those returned from the depths? I, for my part, heard two centurions, whom Nero
Caesar—most loving of truth above all, as of his other virtues—had sent
to investigate the head of the Nile, telling that they had completed a long journey,
when, furnished with aid by the king of Ethiopia and commended to the neighboring kings,
they had penetrated to a more remote one.

[8,4] Inde, ut quidam aiebant, peruenimus ad immensas paludes, quarum exitum nec incolae nouerant nec sperare quisquam potest: ita implicatae aquis herbae sunt et aquae nec pediti eluctabiles nec nauigio, quod nisi paruum et unius capax limosa et obsita palus non fert. Ibi, inquit, uidimus duas petras, ex quibus ingens uis fluminis excidebat.

[8,4] Thence, as certain men were saying, we came to immense
marshes, whose outlet neither the inhabitants knew nor can anyone hope for:
so entangled with the waters are the grasses, and the waters are passable
neither to one on foot nor to a vessel, which, unless small and capable of one man,
the muddy and overgrown marsh does not bear. There, he says, we saw two
rocks, from which an immense force of the river was pouring down.

[8,5] Sed siue caput illa siue accessio est Nili, siue tunc nascitur siue in terras ex priore recepta cursu redit, nonne tu credis illam, quicquid est, ex magno terrarum lacu ascendere? Habeant enim oportet pluribus locis sparsum umorem et in uno coactum, ut eructare tanto impetu possint.

[8,5] But whether that is the head or an accession of the Nile, whether it then is born or into the lands from its prior course, once taken up again, it returns, do you not believe that it, whatever it is, ascends from a great lake of the earth? For there must be moisture scattered in several places and gathered into one, so that they can eructate with so great an impetus.

[9,1] Ignem causam motus quidam iudicant, imprimis Anaxagoras, qui existimat simili paene ex causa et aera concuti et terram: cum in inferiore parte spiritus crassum aera et in nubes coactum eadem ui qua apud nos quoque nubila frangi solent rupit et ignis ex hoc collisu nubium cursuque elisi aeris emicuit, hic ipse in obuia incurrit exitum quaerens ac diuellit repugnantia, donec per angustum aut nactus est uiam exeundi ad caelum aut ui et iniuria fecit.

[9,1] Some judge fire the cause of the motion, especially
Anaxagoras, who thinks that from an almost similar cause both the air is shaken and
the earth: when in the lower part a breath broke through the thick air and into clouds
compacted, by the same force by which among us too clouds are wont to be broken, and fire
from this collision of the clouds and the rush of the driven-out air flashed forth; this
very thing runs into what meets it, seeking an exit, and tears apart what resists,
until through a narrow place it either has found a way of going out to the sky, or
by force and violence has made one.

[9,2] Alii in igne causam quidam esse, sed non ob hoc iudicant, sed quia pluribus obrutus locis ardeat et proxima quaeque consumat; quae si quando exesa ceciderint, tunc sequi motum earum partium quae subiectis adminiculis destitutae labant, donec corruerunt nullo occurrente quod onus exciperet; tunc chasmata, tunc hiatus uasti aperiuntur aut, cum diu dubitauerunt, super ea se quae supersunt stantque componunt.

[9,2] Others judge that the cause is in fire, to be sure, but not on account of this, rather because, being smothered in many places, it burns and consumes whatever is nearest; when these things, eaten away, have at some time fallen, then follows the movement of those parts which, deprived of the props lying beneath, wobble, until they collapse, with nothing meeting them to take up the burden; then chasms, then vast yawning gaps are opened, or, when they have long hesitated, they set and compose themselves upon those remnants which survive and stand.

[9,3] Hoc apud nos quoque uidemus accidere, quotiens incendio laborat pars ciuitatis: cum exustae trabes sunt aut corrupta quae superioribus firmamentum dabant, tunc diu agitata fastigia concidunt et tam diu deferuntur atque incerta sunt, donec in solido resederunt.

[9,3] We see this happen among us too, whenever a part of the city labors under a conflagration: when the beams have been burned up, or those things have been corrupted which gave support to the upper stories, then the long-agitated gables collapse and are borne down and are uncertain for just so long, until they have settled upon solid ground.

[10,1] Anaximenes ait terram ipsam sibi causam esse motus nec extrinsecus incurrere quod illam impellat, sed intra ipsam et ex ipsa: quasdam enim partes eius decidere, quas aut umor resoluerit aut ignis exederit aut spiritus uiolentia excusserit. Sed his quoque cessantibus non deesse propter quod aliquid abscedat aut reuellatur; nam primum omnia uetustate labuntur nec quicquam tutum a senectute est; haec solida quoque et magni roboris carpit.

[10,1] Anaximenes says that the earth itself is the cause of its own motion, and that there does not run in from outside anything to impel it, but within itself and from itself: for certain parts of it fall away, which either moisture has dissolved or fire has eaten out or a spirit/wind by its violence has shaken loose. But even these failing, there is not lacking a reason why something should withdraw or be torn away; for, in the first place, all things slip by age, nor is anything safe from old age; this too nibbles at even things solid and of great strength.

[10,2] Itaque quemadmodum in aedificiis ueteribus quasdam non percussa tamen decidunt, cum plus ponderis habuere quam uirium, ita in hoc uniuerso terrae corpore euenit ut partes eius uetustate soluantur, solutae cadant et tremorem superioribus afferant: primum, dum abscedunt (nihil enim utique magnum sine motu eius cui haesit absciditur); deinde, cum deciderunt, solido exceptae resiliunt pilae more (quae, cum cecidit, exultat ac saepius pellitur, totiens a solo in nouum impetum missa); si uero in stagnantibus aquis delatae sunt, hic ipse casus uicina concutit fluctu, quem subitum uastumque illisum ex alto pondus eiecit.

[10,2] And so, just as in old buildings some parts, though not struck, nevertheless fall, when they have had more weight than strength, so in this universal body of earth it happens that its parts are loosened by age, loosened they fall and bring a tremor to the things above: first, while they are detaching (for nothing, to be sure, that is great is cut off from that to which it clung without the movement of it); then, when they have fallen, caught by the solid, they rebound in the manner of a ball (which, when it has fallen, bounds and is more often driven back, as often sent from the ground into a new impetus); if indeed they have been borne into standing waters, this very fall shakes the neighboring places with a swell, which a sudden and vast weight, dashed from on high, has cast up.

[11,1] Quidam ignibus quidem assignant hunc tremorem, sed aliter. Nam cum pluribus locis ferueant, necesse est ingentem uaporem sine exitu uoluant, qui ui sua spiritum intendit et, si acrius institit, opposita diffindit, si uero remissior fuit, nihil amplius quam mouet. Uidemus aquam spumare igne subiecto: quod in hac aqua facit inclusa et angusta, multo magis illum facere credamus, cum uiolentus ac uastus ingentes aquas excitat: tunc illa euaporatione fluctuantium undarum quicquid pulsauit, agitatur.

[11,1] Certain people do indeed assign this tremor to fires, but otherwise. For when they are seething in several places, it is necessary that they roll a huge vapor without an exit, which by its own force stretches the spirit, and, if it pressed more sharply, splits what is opposed; but if it was more remiss, it does nothing more than move it. We see water foam with fire placed beneath: what, in this water, enclosed and narrow, it brings about, let us believe that that brings about much more, when, violent and vast, it excites immense waters: then, by that evaporation of the fluctuating waves, whatever it has struck is agitated.

[12,1] Spiritum esse qui moueat et plurimis et maximis auctoribus placet. Archelaus, uir quidem satis diligens, ait ita: Uenti in concaua terrarum deferuntur; deinde, ubi iam omnia spatia plena sunt et in quantum aer potuit densatus est, is qui superuertit spiritus priorem premit et elidit ac frequentibus plagis primo cogit, deinde proturbat;

[12,1] That it is a spirit which moves is acceptable to very many and very great authorities. Archelaus, a man indeed sufficiently diligent, says thus: Winds are carried down into the concave places of the lands; then, when already all the spaces are full and the air has been condensed as far as it could, the spirit which comes over presses the former and squeezes it out, and with frequent blows at first compels it, then drives it forward;

[12,2] tunc ille quaerens locum omnes angustias dimouet et claustra sua conatur effringere: sic euenit ut terrae, spiritu luctante et fugam quaerente, moueantur. Itaque cum terrae motus futurus est, praecedit aeris tranquillitas et quies, uidelicet quia uis spiritus, quae concitare uentos solet, in inferna sede retinetur. Nunc quoque, cum hic motus in Campania fuit, quamuis hiberno tempore et inquieto, per superiores dies caelo aer stetit.

[12,2] then it, seeking a place, displaces all narrowings and tries to break its own barriers: thus it comes about that the lands, with the spirit wrestling and seeking flight, are moved. And so, when an earth-movement is about to occur, a tranquility and quiet of the air precedes, clearly because the force of the spirit, which is accustomed to incite winds, is held back in the infernal seat. Now too, when this motion was in Campania, although at a wintry and unquiet season, during the preceding days the air stood still in the sky.

[12,3] Quid ergo? Numquam flante uento terra concussa est? Admodum raro; duo <si> simul flauere uenti fieri; tamen et potest et solet.

[12,3] What then? Has the earth never been shaken when
the wind is blowing? Very rarely; it can happen <if> two winds blow at the same time
; nevertheless it both can and is wont to happen.

Quod si recipimus et constat duos uentos rem simul gerere, quidni accidere possit ut alter superiorem aera agitet, alter infernum?

But if we admit, and it is established, that two winds carry on the matter simultaneously, why should it not be able to occur that the one agitates the upper air, the other the lower?

[13,1] In hac sententia licet portas Aristotelem et discipulum eius Theophrastum (non, ut Graecis uisum est, diuini, tamen et dulcis eloquii uirum et nitidi sine labore). Quid utrique placeat exponam. Semper aliqua euaporatio est e terra, quae modo arida est, modo umido mixta; haec ab infimo edita et in quantum potuit elata, cum ulteriorem locum in quem exeat non habet, retro fertur atque in se reuoluitur; deinde rixa spiritus reciprocantis iactat obstantia et, siue interclusus siue per angusta enisus est, motum ac tumultum ciet.

[13,1] In this opinion you may summon Aristotle and his disciple Theophrastus (not, as it seemed to the Greeks, divine, yet a man of sweet eloquence and polished without labor). What pleases each I will set forth. There is always some evaporation from the earth, which is at one time arid, at another mixed with the humid; this, emitted from below and elevated as far as it could, when it has no ulterior place into which it may exit, is borne back and revolves upon itself; then the strife of the reciprocating spirit/breath tosses the obstacles, and, whether it has been intercluded or has struggled through narrows, it stirs up motion and tumult.

[13,2] Straton ex eadem schola est, qui hanc partem philosophiae maxime coluit et rerum naturae inquisitor fuit; huius tale decretum est. Frigidum et calidum semper in contraria abeunt, una esse non possunt: eo frigidum confluit unde uis calidi discessit, et inuicem ibi calidum est unde frigus expulsum est. Hoc quod dico uerum esse et utrumque in contrarium agi ex hoc tibi appareat:

[13,2] Straton is from the same
school, who most cultivated this part of philosophy and
was an inquisitor of the nature of things; his decree is of this sort. The cold
and the hot always go off into contraries, they cannot be together: to that place
the cold flows together from which the force of the hot has departed, and in turn it is hot
there from which the cold has been driven out. That what I say is true and
that each is driven into its contrary, let it appear to you from this:

[13,3] hiberno tempore, cum supra terram frigus est, calent putei nec minus specus atque omnes sub terra recessus, quia illo se calor contulit superiora possidenti frigori cedens; qui, cum in inferiora peruenit et eo se quantum poterat ingessit, quo densior, hoc ualidior est. Frigori cal<idi> uis superuenit, cui necessario congregatus ille iam et in angustum pressus loco cedit.

[13,3] in wintertime, when above the ground it is cold, wells are warm, and no less the caves and all the recesses under the earth, because heat has betaken itself thither, yielding to the cold that holds the upper regions; which, when it has come down into the lower parts and has forced itself in there as much as it could, the denser it is, the stronger it is. Upon the cold there comes the force of the hot, to which, necessarily gathered together now and pressed into a narrow place, that one yields in place.

[13,4] Idem contrario euenit: cum uis maior frigidi illata in cauernis est, quicquid illic calidi latet, frigori cedens abit in angustum et magno impetu agitur, quia non patitur utriusque natura concordiam nec in uno moram. Fugiens ergo et omni modo cupiens excedere proxima quaeque remolitur ac iactat.

[13,4] The same happens contrariwise: when a greater force of cold is brought to bear in the caverns, whatever heat lies hidden there, ceding to the cold, withdraws into a narrow place and is driven with great impetus, because the nature of both does not suffer concord nor delay in one. Therefore, fleeing and in every way desiring to go out, it drags back and flings each nearest thing.

[13,5] Ideoque antequam terra moueatur, solet mugitus s audiri uentis in abdito tumultuantibus. Nec enim aliter posset, ut ait noster Uergilius, "sub pedibus mugire solum et iuga celsa moueri", nisi hoc esset uentorum opus. v [13,6] Uices deinde huius pugnae sunt eaedem: fit calidi congregatio ac rursus eruptio; tunc frigida compescuntur et secedunt mox futura potentiora.

[13,5] And therefore, before the earth is moved, a bellowing is wont to be heard, with the winds tumultuating in hiding. For it could not be otherwise, as our Vergil says, "for the soil to bellow beneath the feet and the lofty ridges to be moved," unless this were the work of the winds. v
[13,6] The vicissitudes then of this combat are the same: there is a congregation of the hot and again an eruption; then the cold are restrained and withdraw, soon to be more potent.

Dum ergo alterna uis cursat et ultro citroque spiritus commeat, terra concutitur.

While therefore the alternate force courses, and the spirit goes hither and thither, the earth is shaken.

[14,1] Sunt qui existiment spiritu quidem et nulla alia ratione tremere terram, sed ex alia causa quam Aristoteli placuit. Quid sit quod ab his dicatur audi: corpus nostrum et sanguine irrigatur et spiritu, qui per sua itinera decurrit. Habemus autem quaedam angustiora receptacula animae per quae nihil amplius quam meat, quaedam patentiora in quibus colligitur et unde diuiditur in partes.

[14,1] There are those who think that the earth does indeed tremble by spirit and by no other reason, but from a different cause than pleased Aristotle. Listen to what it is that is said by them: our body is irrigated both with blood and with spirit, which runs down through its own paths. We have, moreover, certain narrower receptacles of the soul through which it does nothing more than pass, certain more patent ones in which it is gathered and whence it is divided into parts.

Sic hoc totum terrarum omnium corpus et aquis, quae uicem sanguinis tenent, et uentis, quos nihil aliud quis quam animam uocauerit, peruium est. Haec duo aliubi currunt, aliubi consistunt.

Thus this whole body of all the lands is pervious both to the waters, which hold the place of blood, and to the winds, which one would call nothing else than the soul. These two in some places run, in other places stand still.

[14,2] Sed quemadmodum in corpore nostro, dum bona ualetudo est, uenarum quoque imperturbata mobilitas modum seruat; ubi aliquid aduersi est, micat crebrius et suspiria atque anhelitus laborantis ac fessi signa sunt: ita terrae quoque, dum illis positio naturalis est, inconcussae manent; cum aliquid peccatur, tunc uelut aegri corporis motus est, spiritu illo qui modestius perfluebat icto uehementius et quassante uenas suas. Nec, ut illi paulo ante dicebant, quibus animal placet esse terram. Nisi hoc est, quemadmodum animal totum uexationem sentiet; neque enim in nobis febris alias partes moratius, alias citius impellit, sed per omnes pari aequalitate discurrit.

[14,2] But just as in our body, while good health stands, the unperturbed mobility of the veins also keeps its measure; when something adverse is present, it beats more frequently, and sighs and pantings are the signs of one toiling and weary: so the earth too, while its natural position is in place, remains unshaken; when something goes wrong, then it is as the movement of a sick body, with that breath which had flowed more moderately being struck to a greater vehemence and shaking its veins. Nor, as those a little before were saying, to whom it pleases to make the earth an animal. Unless it is this, how will an animal as a whole feel a vexation? For in us a fever does not drive some parts more slowly, others more quickly, but runs through all with equal parity.

[14,3] Uide ergo num quid intret in illam spiritus ex circumfuso aere. Qui, quamdiu habet exitum, sine iniuria labitur; si offendit aliquid et incidit quod uiam clauderet, tunc oneratur primo infundente se a tergo aere, deinde per aliquam rimam maligne fugit et hoc acrius fertur, quo angustius. Id sine pugna non potest fieri, nec pugna sine motu.

[14,3] See then whether any spirit enters into it from the surrounding air. Which, so long as it has an exit, glides without injury; if it strikes something and falls upon what would close the way, then it is burdened, first with the air pouring itself in from behind, then through some crack it escapes with difficulty and is borne the more sharply, the narrower it is. That cannot be done without a struggle, nor a struggle without motion.

[14,4] At si ne rimam quidem per quam efflueret inuenit, conglobatus illic furit et hoc atque illo circumagitur aliaque deicit, alia intercidit, cum tenuissimus idemque fortissimus et irrepat quamuis in obstructa et quicquid intrauit ui sua diducat ac dissipet. Tunc terra iactatur: aut enim datura uento locum discedit, aut, cum dedit, in ipsam qua illum emisit cauernam fundamento spoliata considit.

[14,4] But if it finds not even a crack through
which it might efflux, conglobated there it rages and is whirled hither and thither,
and it throws down some things, cuts through others, since it is most tenuous
and yet most strong, and it creeps even into obstructed places, and whatever
it has entered it draws apart and dissipates by its own force. Then the earth is tossed: for either
about to give place to the wind it parts, or, when it has given, despoiled of its foundation it subsides
into the very cavern through which it sent that out.

[15,1] Quidam ita existimant: terra multis locis perforata est nec tantum primos illos aditus habet quos uelut spiramenta ab initio sui recepit, sed multos illi casus imposuit. Aliubi deduxit quicquid superne terreni erat aqua, alia torrentes cecidere, alia aestibus magnis disrupta patuerunt. Per haec interualla intrat spiritus: quem si inclusit mare et altius adegit nec fluctus retro abire permisit, tunc ille exitu simul redituque praecluso uolutatur et, quia in rectum non potest tendere, quod illi naturale est, in sublime se intendit et terram prementem diuerberat.

[15,1] Certain men think thus: the earth is perforated in many places, and it has not only those first inlets which, as it were breathing-holes, it received from the beginning of its being, but many accidents have been laid upon it. Elsewhere water has led down whatever of earthy matter was above; in other places torrents have collapsed; others, torn asunder by great surges, have lain open. Through these intervals spirit enters: which, if the sea has enclosed and driven deeper and has not permitted the waves to go back, then, with both exit and return shut off, it is rolled about; and, because it cannot stretch in a straight line—which is natural to it—it stretches itself on high and smites asunder the earth that presses it.

[16,1] Etiamnunc dicendum est quod plerisque auctoribus placet et in quod fortasse fiet discessio. Non esse terram sine spiritu palam est, non tantum illo dico quo se tenet ac partes sui iungit, qui inest etiam saxis mortuisque corporibus, sed illo dico uitali et uegeto et alente omnia. Hunc nisi haberet, quomodo tot arbustis spiritum infunderet non aliunde uiuentibus et tot satis?

[16,1] Even now it must be said what pleases most authors, and about which perhaps there will be a dissension. That the earth is not without spirit is plain, not only do I mean that by which it holds itself and joins its parts, which is present even in stones and dead bodies, but I mean that vital and vegetative one, nourishing all things. Unless it had this, how would it infuse spirit into so many orchards, living from no other source, and into so many crops?

Quemadmodum tam diuersas radices aliter atque aliter in se mersas foueret, quasdam summa receptas parte, quasdam altius tractas, nisi multum haberet animae tam multa tam uaria generantis et haustu atque alimento sui educantis?

How would it foster such diverse roots, plunged into itself in one way and another,
some received in the topmost part, some drawn deeper,
unless it had much of soul, generating so many and so various things
and rearing them by its own draught and aliment?

[16,2] Leuibus adhuc argumentis ago: totum hoc caelum, quod igneus aether, mundi summa pars, claudit, omnes hae stellae, quarum iniri non potest numerus, omnis hic caelestium coetus et, ut alia praeteream, hic tam prope a nobis agens cursum sol, omni terrarum ambitu non semel maior, alimentum ex terreno trahunt et inter se partiuntur nec ullo alio scilicet quam halitu terrarum sustinentur: hoc illis alimentum, hic pastus est.

[16,2] I am still proceeding with light arguments: this whole heaven, which the fiery aether, the topmost part of the world, encloses, all these stars, whose number cannot be computed, this whole concourse of the celestials and, to pass over other things, this sun here, driving his course so close to us, more than once greater than the whole circuit of the lands, draw aliment from the terrestrial and share it among themselves, and are sustained, to wit, by no other thing than the exhalation of the lands: this is nourishment for them, this is pasturage.

[16,3] Non posset autem tam multa tantoque se ipsa maiora nutrire, nisi plena esset animae, quam per diem ac noctem ab omnibus partibus sui fundit; fieri enim non potest ut non multum illi supersit, ex qua tantum petitur ac sumitur. Et ad tempus quidem quod exeat nascitur (nec enim esset perennis illi copia suffecturi in tot caelestia spiritus, nisi inuicem elementa recurrerent et in aliud alia soluerentur), sed tamen necesse est abundet ac plena sit et ex condito proferat:

[16,3] But it would not be able to nourish so many things and things so much greater than itself, unless it were full of soul, which by day and night it pours forth from all its parts; for it cannot be that much does not remain over to it, from which so much is sought and taken. And for a time indeed that which goes out is generated (for there would not be for it a perennial supply sufficient of spirit for so many celestial things, unless the elements in turn recurred and some were dissolved into others), yet nevertheless it is necessary that it abound and be full and bring forth from what has been stored up:

[16,4] non est ergo dubium quin multum spiritus intus lateat et caeca sub terra spatia aer latus obtineat. Quod si uerum est, necesse est id saepe moueatur quod re mobilissima plenum est: numquid enim dubium esse cuiquam potest quin nihil sit tam inquietum quam aer, tam uersabile et agitatione gaudens?

[16,4] there is therefore no doubt that much spirit lies hidden within, and that beneath the earth the air occupies broad blind spaces. But if this is true, it is necessary that what is full of the most mobile thing is often moved: for can it be doubtful to anyone that nothing is so restless as air, so versatile and rejoicing in agitation?

[17,1] Sequitur ergo ut naturam suam exerceat et quod semper moueri uult, aliquando et alia moueat. Id quando fit? Quando illi cursus interdictus est. Nam quamdiu non impeditur, it placide; cum offenditur et retinetur, insanit et moras suas abripit, non aliter quam ille "pontem indignatus Araxes":

[17,1] It follows, therefore, that it should exercise its own nature and that what always wants to be moved should at times also move other things. When does that happen? When its course has been interdicted. For as long as it is not impeded, it goes placidly; when it is offended and held back, it raves and snatches away its own delays, no otherwise than that Araxes, "indignant at the bridge":

[17,2] quamdiu illi facilis et liber est alueus, primas quasque aquas explicat; ubi saxa manu uel casu illata repressere uenientem, tunc impetum mora quaerit et, quo plura opposita sunt, plus inuenit uirium: omnis enim illa unda, quae a tergo superuenit et in se crescit, cum onus suum sustinere non potuit, uim ruina parat et prona cum ipsis quae obiacebant fugit. Idem spiritu fit, qui quo ualentior agiliorque est, citius eripitur et uehementius saeptum omne disturbat: ex quo motus fit, scilicet eius partis sub qua pugnatum est.

[17,2] so long as its channel is easy and free, it carries off whatever waters first arrive; when
stones, brought in by hand or by chance, have checked the oncoming flow, then it seeks momentum
from delay, and the more things are set in opposition, the more strength it finds:
for all that wave which comes up from behind and grows upon itself,
when it could not bear its burden, prepares force in a ruin and rushes headlong downward
together with the very things that were lying in the way. The same happens with spirit (air), which, the
stronger and more agile it is, is snatched away more quickly and more vehemently disturbs every
enclosure: whence motion arises, namely of that part under which the battle took place.

[17,3] Quod dicitur uerum esse et illo probatur: saepe, cum terrae motus fuit, si modo pars eius aliqua disrupta est, inde uentus per multos dies fluxit, ut traditur factum eo motu quo Chalcis laborauit: quod apud Asclepiodotum inuenies, auditorem Posidonii, in his ipsis quaestionum naturalium causis. Inuenies et apud alios auctores hiasse uno loto terram et inde non exiguo tempore spirasse uentum, qui scilicet illud iter ipse sibi fecerat per quod ferebatur.

[17,3] That what is said is true is also proven by this: often, when an earthquake has occurred, if only some part of it has been ruptured, from there a wind flowed for many days, as it is reported to have happened in that shock whereby Chalcis suffered: which you will find in Asclepiodotus, an auditor of Posidonius, in these very causes of natural questions. You will also find among other authors that the earth gaped in one place and from there for no small time a wind breathed, which, to be sure, had made for itself that path along which it was being borne.

[18,1] Maxima ergo causa est propter quam terra moueatur spiritus natura citus et locum e loto mutans. Hic quamdiu non impellitur et in uacanti spatio latet, iacet innoxius nec circum iectis molestus est;

[18,1] The greatest cause, then, on account of which the earth is moved, is a spirit/breath by nature swift and shifting its place from its place. This, so long as it is not driven and lies hidden in empty space, lies harmless and is not troublesome to the things around it;

[18,2] ubi illum extrinsecus superueniens causa sollicite compellitque et in artum agit, si licet adhuc, cedit tantum et uagatur: ubi erepta discedendi facultas est et undique obsistitur, tunc "magno cum murmure montis circum claustra" fremit, quae diu pulsata conuellit ac iactat, eo acrior quo cum mora ualentiore luctatus est.

[18,2] when a cause supervening from without
anxiously both compels it and drives it into a narrow place, if it is still permitted, it merely yields
and wanders; when the faculty of departing has been snatched away and it is resisted on all sides,
then "with a great murmur of the mountain around the barriers"
it roars, and the fastenings, long beaten, it convulses and tosses, the fiercer in proportion as it has
wrestled with a stronger delay.

[18,3] Deinde cum circa perlustrauit omne quo tenebatur, nec potuit euadere, inde, quo maxime impactus est, resilit et aut per occulta diuiditur ipso terrae motu raritate facta, aut per nouum uulnus emicuit: ita eius non potest uis tanta cohiberi nec uentum tenet ulla compages. Soluit enim quodcumque uinculum et onus omne fert secum infususque per minima laxamentum sibi parat et indomita naturae potentia liberat se, utique cum concitatus sibi ius suum uindicat.

[18,3] Then when it has surveyed all around
everything wherein it was held, and could not escape, from there, to where it has been most
impacted, it springs back, and either it is divided through hidden places, rarefaction having been made by the very movement of the earth, or it has flashed forth through a new wound: thus so great a force of it cannot be confined, nor does any framework hold the wind. For it loosens whatever bond and carries every burden with itself, and, infused through the smallest things, it prepares relaxation for itself, and the untamed potency of its nature frees itself, especially when, incited, it vindicates its own right.

[18,4] Spiritus ueto inuicta res est: nihil erit quod "luctantes uentos tempestatesque sonoras imperio premat ac uinclis et carcere frenet."

[18,4] The wind, indeed, is an unconquered thing: there will be nothing which "will press the struggling winds and the sonorous tempests by command, and bridle them with bonds and with prison."

[18,5] Sine dubio poetae hunc uoluerunt uideri carcerem in quo sub terra clausi laterent, sed hoc non intellexerunt, nec id quod clausum est esse adhuc uentum nec id quod uentus est posse iam claudi. Nam quod in clauso est quiescit et aeris statio est; omnis in fuga uentus est.

[18,5] Without a doubt the poets wanted this to seem the prison in which, shut beneath the earth, they would lie hidden; but they did not understand this, neither that what is enclosed is not yet wind, nor that what is wind can now be enclosed. For what is in an enclosure rests and is a station of air; every wind is in flight.

[18,6] Etiamnunc et illud accedit his argumentis per quod appareat motum effici spiritu, quod corpora quoque nostra non aliter tremunt quam si spiritum aliqua causa perturbat, cum timore contractus est, cum senectute languescit et uenis torpentibus marcet, cum frigore inhibetur aut sub accessionem cursu suo deicitur.

[18,6] Even now this too is added to these arguments, whereby it may appear that motion is effected by spirit, that our bodies also tremble in no other way than if some cause perturbs the spirit, when with fear it is contracted, when with old age it languishes and, the veins being torpid, it withers, when by cold it is inhibited or under a paroxysm it is cast down from its course.

[18,7] Nam quamdiu sine iniuria perfluit et ex more procedit, nullus est tremor corpori: cum aliquid occurrit quod inhibeat eius officium, tunc parum potens in perferendis his quae integer tulerat, deficiens concutit quicquid suo uigore tendebat.

[18,7] For as long as it flows through without injury and proceeds as usual, there is no tremor for the body: when something encounters it that inhibits its function, then, not potent enough to carry through those things which, when whole, it had borne, failing, it shakes whatever was extended by its own vigor.

[19,1] Metrodorum Chium, quia necesse est, audiamus, quod uult sententiae loco dicentem. Non enim permitto mihi ne eas quidem opiniones praeterire quas improbo, cum satius sit omnium copiam fieri et quae improbamus damnare potius quam praeterire.

[19,1] Let us hear Metrodorus the Chian, since it is necessary,
speaking what he wishes in the place of an opinion. For I do not permit myself
to pass over not even those opinions which I disapprove, since it is better that
there be a full supply of all, and that we condemn rather those which we disapprove
than pass them over.

[19,2] Quid ergo dicit? Quomodo, cum in dolio cantatur, uox illa per totum cum quadam discussione percurrit ac resonat et tam leuiter mota tamen circumit non sine tactu eius tumultuque quo inclusa est, sic speluncarum sub terra pendentium uastitas habet aera suum, quem, simul alius superne incidens percussit, agitat, non aliter quam illa, de quibus paulo ante rettuli, inania indito clamore sonuerunt.

[19,2] What then does he say? Just as, when one sings in a cask,
that voice runs through the whole with a certain concussion and resounds,
and though moved so lightly nevertheless it goes around not without the touch
and the tumult of that in which it is enclosed, so the vastness of caves hanging under the earth
has its own air, which, as soon as another, falling from above, has struck it, agitates it,
no otherwise than those empty spaces, of which I reported a little before,
sounded when a shout was put into them.

[20,1] Ueniamus nunc ad eos qui omnia ista quae rettuli in causa esse dixerunt aut ex his plura. Democritus plura putat. Ait enim motum aliquando spiritu fieri, aliquando aqua, aliquando utroque, et id hoc modo prosequitur.

[20,1] Let us now come to those who said that all those things which I have related are in the cause, or more of these. Democritus thinks more. For he says that motion is sometimes brought about by spirit, sometimes by water, sometimes by both, and he prosecutes it in this way.

Aliqua pars terrae concaua est; in hanc aquae magna uis confluit. Ex hac est aliquid tenue et ceteris liquidius. Hoc, cum superueniente grauitate reiectum est, illiditur terris et illas mouet, nec enim fluctuari potest sine motu eius in quod impingitur.

Some part of the earth is concave; into this a great force of waters flows together. From this there is something tenuous and more liquid than the rest. This, when by supervening gravity it is cast back, is dashed against the lands and moves them; for it cannot fluctuate without movement of that into which it impinges.

[20,2] Etiamnunc quomodo de spiritu dicebamus, de aqua quoque dicendum est. Ubi in unum locum congesta est et capere se desiit, aliquo incumbit et primo uiam pondere aperit, deinde impetu; nec enim exire nisi per deuexum potest diu inclusa nec in directum cadere moderate aut sine concussione eorum per quae uel in quae cadit.

[20,2] Even now, just as we were speaking about spirit, about water too it must be said. When
it has been congested into one place and has ceased to be contained, it
bears down upon something and first opens a way by its weight, then by its impetus; for
long enclosed it cannot go out except by a declivity, nor fall straight down
moderately or without concussion of the things through which or into which it falls.

[20,3] Si uero, cum iam rapi coepit, aliquo loco substitit et illa uis fluminis in se reuoluta est, in continentem terram repellitur et illam, qua parte maxime pendet, exagitat. Praeterea aliquando madefacta tellus liquore penitus accepto altius sedit et fundus ipse uitiatur: tunc ea pars premitur in quam maxime aquarum uergentium pondus inclinat.

[20,3] If, however, when it has already begun to be swept away, it halted in some place and that force of the river has been rolled back upon itself, it is driven back onto the mainland and buffets it in that part where it is most pendent. Moreover, sometimes the moistened earth, with the liquid received deep within, has settled lower and the very foundation is vitiated: then that part is pressed upon toward which the weight of the verging waters most inclines.

[20,4] Spiritus uero nonnumquam impellit undas et, si uehementius institit, eam scilicet partem terrae mouet in quam coactas aquas intulit; nonnumquam in terrena itinera coniectus et exitum quaerens mouet omnia. Terra autem tem penetrabilis uentis est et spiritus subtilior est quam ut possit excludi, uehementior quam ut sustineri concitatus ac rapidus.

[20,4] But the wind sometimes
drives the waves, and, if it has pressed more vehemently, it moves, namely, that part of the land
into which it has brought the waters massed together; sometimes, hurled into terrene
passages and seeking an exit, it moves everything. Moreover the earth
is penetrable to winds, and the spirit is subtler than that it can be
shut out, more vehement than that, when aroused and rapid, it can be withstood.

[20,5] Omnes istas esse posse causas Epicurus ait pluresque alias temptat et illos qui aliquid unum ex istis esse affirmauerunt corripit, cum sit arduum de his quae coniectura assequenda sunt aliquid certi promittere.

[20,5] Epicurus says that all those can be causes and he attempts still more besides, and he reproves those who have affirmed that any one of these is the case, since it is arduous, concerning those things which are to be attained by conjecture, to promise anything certain.

[20,6] Ergo, ut ait, potest terram mouere aqua, si partes aliquas eluit et adrosit, quibus desiit posse extenuatis sustineri quod integris ferebatur. Potest terram mouere impressio spiritus: fortasse enim aer extrinsecus alio intrante aere agitatur, fortasse aliqua parte subito decidente percutitur et inde motum capit. Fortasse aliqua pars terrae uelut columnis quibusdam ac pilis sustinetur, quibus uitiatis ac recedentibus tremit pondus impositum.

[20,6] Therefore, as he says, water can move the earth, if it washes out and erodes certain parts, on which, once attenuated, what was borne by them when intact ceases to be able to be sustained. The impression of the spirit can move the earth: for perhaps the air from outside is agitated as another air enters, perhaps it is struck by some part suddenly subsiding and from there takes motion. Perhaps some part of the earth is supported as if by certain columns and piles, and when these are vitiated and recede, the imposed weight trembles.

[20,7] Fortasse calida uis spiritus in ignem uersa et fulmini similis cum magna strage obstantium fertur. Fortasse palustres et iacentes aquas aliquis flatus impellit et inde aut ictus terram quatit aut spiritus agitatio ipso motu crescens et se incitans ab imo in summa usque perfertur. Nullam tamen illi placet causam motus esse maiorem quam spiritum.

[20,7] Perhaps the hot force of spirit, turned into fire and like lightning, is borne along with great havoc of what stands in the way. Perhaps some gust impels the marshy and standing waters, and from that either a stroke shakes the earth, or the agitation of the spirit, growing by the very motion and urging itself on, is carried from the bottom even to the highest parts. Yet no cause of the motion seems to him greater than spirit.

[21,1] Nobis quoque placet hune spiritum esse qui possit tanta conari, quo nihil est in rerum natura potentius, nihil acrius, sine quo ne illa quidem quae uehementissima sunt ualent: ignem spiritus concitat; aquae, si uentum detrahas, inertes sunt: tunc demum impetum sumunt, cum illas agit flatus. Et potest dissipare magna terrarum spatia et nouos montes subiectus extollere et insulas non ante uisas in medio mari ponere: Theren et Therasiam et hanc nostrae aetatis insulam, spectantibus nobis in Aegaeo mari natam, quis dubitat quin in lucem spiritus uexerit?

[21,1] It pleases us too that this spirit is the one that can attempt such great things, than which nothing in the nature of things is more powerful, nothing more acute, without which not even those things which are most vehement have strength: the spirit stirs up fire; waters, if you take away the wind, are inert: only then do they take on an impetus, when a blowing drives them. And it can scatter great expanses of lands and, being underneath, raise up new mountains and set islands not seen before in the middle of the sea: who doubts that Thera and Therasia and that island of our own age, born before our eyes in the Aegean Sea, the spirit has brought into the light?

[21,2] Duo genera sunt, ut Posidonio placet, quibus mouetur terra. Utrique nomen est proprium: altera succussio est, cum terra quatitur et sursum ac deorsum mouetur, altera inclinatio, qua in latera nutat alternis nauigii more. Ego et tertium illud existimo quod nostro uocabulo signatum est; non enim sine causa tremorem terrae dixere maiores, qui utrique dissimilis est; nam nec succutiuntur tunc omnia nec inclinantur sed uibrantur, res minime in eiusmodi casu noxia; sicut longe perniciosior est inclinatio concussione: nam nisi celeriter ex altera parte properabit motus qui inclinata restituat, ruina necessario sequitur.

[21,2] There are two kinds, as Posidonius thinks, by which the earth is moved. Each has its proper name: the one is succussion, when the earth is shaken and moved upward and downward; the other is inclination, whereby it nods to the sides alternately in the manner of a ship. I also suppose that third kind which is marked by our own term; for not without cause did the ancestors call it the trembling of the earth, which is dissimilar to both; for then not all things are succussed nor inclined, but vibrated, a condition least noxious in a case of this sort; just as inclination is far more pernicious than concussion: for unless there quickly hastens from the other side a motion to restore the things inclined, collapse necessarily follows.

[22,1] Cum dissimiles hi motus inter se sint, causae quoque eorum diuersae sunt. Prius ergo de motu quatiente dicamus. Si quando magna onera per uices uehiculorum plurium tracta sunt et rotae maiore nisu in salebras inciderunt, terram concuti senties.

[22,1] Since these motions are dissimilar among themselves, their causes also are diverse. Therefore let us first speak of the shaking motion. If ever great burdens have been dragged by turns by several vehicles and the wheels, with greater exertion, have fallen into ruts, you will feel the earth concussed.

[22,2] Asclepiodotus tradit: cum petra e latere montis abrupta cecidisset, aedificia uicina tremore collapsa sunt. Idem sub terris fieri potest, ut ex his quae impendent rupibus aliqua resoluta magno pondere ac sono in subiacentem cauernam cadat, eo uehementius quo aut plus ponderis uenit aut altius: et sic commouetur omne tectum cauatae uallis.

[22,2] Asclepiodotus records: when a rock, torn off from the side of a mountain, had fallen, the neighboring buildings collapsed from the tremor. The same can happen beneath the earth, as when from those things which hang over from the cliffs something, loosened, with great weight and sound falls into an underlying cavern—so much the more vehemently in proportion as either more weight comes or it comes from higher up—and thus the whole covering of a hollowed valley is shaken.

[22,3] Nec tantum pondere suo abscindi saxa credibile est sed cum flumina supra ferantur, assiduus umor commissuras lapidis extenuat et cotidie aliquid his ad quae religatus est aufert et illam, ut ita dicam, glutem, qua continetur, abradit. Deinde longa per aeuum deminutio usque eo infirmat illa quae cotidie attriuit, ut desinant esse oneri ferendo:

[22,3] Nor is it believable that rocks are cut off only by their own weight, but when rivers flow above, assiduous moisture attenuates the commissures of the stone and daily takes away something from those parts to which it is bound, and abrades that, so to speak, glue by which it is held together. Then the long diminution through the age so weakens those things which it has daily worn away that they cease to be fit for bearing a burden:

[22,4] tunc saxa uasti ponderis decidunt; tunc illa praecipitata rupes quicquid ab imo repercussit non passura consistere "<cum> sonitu uenit, et ruere omnia uisa repente", ut ait Uergilius noster.

[22,4] then rocks of vast weight fall; then that cliff, hurled headlong, not going to allow to stand whatever it has struck and driven back from below, “it comes with a roar, and all things seemed suddenly to rush down,” as our Vergil says.

[23,1] Huius motus succutientis terras haec erit causa: ad alteram transeo. Rara terrae natura est multumque habens uacui: per has raritates spiritus fertur, qui, ubi maior influxit nec emittitur, concutit terram.

[23,1] Of this motion shaking the lands, this will be the cause: I pass to the other. The earth’s nature is rare and has much of void; through these rarities the spirit is borne, which, when a greater inflow has flowed in and is not emitted, concusses the earth.

[23,2] Haec placet et aliis, ut paulo ante rettuli, causa, si quid apud te profectura testium turba est: hanc etiam Callisthenes probat, non contemptus uir: fuit enim illi nobile ingenium et furibundi regis impatiens. Hic est Alexandri crimen aeternum, quod nulla uirtus, nulla bellorum felicitas redimet;

[23,2] This cause pleases others also, as I related a little before, if the throng of witnesses is going to effect anything with you: Callisthenes also approves it, a man not to be despised; for he had a noble ingenium and was impatient of a raving king. This is Alexander’s eternal crimen, which no virtus, no felicity of wars will redeem;

[23,3] nam quotiens quis dixerit: "Occidit Persarum multa milia", opponetur ei "et Callisthenen"; quotiens dictum erit: "Occidit Darium, penes quem tum maximum regnum erat", opponetur ei "et Callisthenen"; quotiens dictum erit: "Omnia oceano tenus uicit, ipsum quoque temptauit nouis classibus et imperium ex angulo Thraciae usque ad Orientis terminos protulit", dicetur: "Sed Callisthenen occidit": omnia licet antiqua ducum regumque exempla transierit, ex his quae fecit nihil tam magnum erit quam scelus.

[23,3] for as often as someone will have said: "He killed many thousands of Persians," there will be set against him "and Callisthenes"; as often as it will be said: "He killed Darius, in whose power at that time was the greatest kingdom," there will be set against him "and Callisthenes"; as often as it will be said: "He conquered everything up to the ocean, and even tried it itself with new fleets and extended his empire from a corner of Thrace to the boundaries of the Orient," it will be said: "But he killed Callisthenes": although he may have surpassed all the ancient examples of leaders and kings, among the things he did nothing will be so great as the crime.

[23,4] Hic Callisthenes in libris quibus describit quemadmodum Helice Burisque mersae sint, quis illas casus in mare uel in illas mare immiserit, dicit id quod in priore parte dictum est: Spiritus intrat terram per occulta foramina, quemadmodum ubique, ita et sub mari; deinde, cum obstructus ille est trames per quem descenderat, reditum autem illi a tergo resistens aqua abstulit, huc et illuc refertur et sibi ipse occurrens terram labefactat. Ideo frequentissime mari apposita uexantur et inde Neptuno haec assignata est terras mouendi potentia. Quisquis primas litteras didicit, scit illum apud Homerum G-enosichthona uocari.

[23,4] Here Callisthenes, in the books in which he describes how Helice and Bura were submerged, what chance cast them into the sea or cast the sea into them, says that which was said in the earlier part: A breath enters the earth through hidden foramina, as everywhere, so also beneath the sea; then, when the trames by which it had descended is obstructed, and the water resisting from behind has taken away its return, it is carried hither and thither and, meeting itself, makes the earth totter. Therefore places apposed to the sea are most frequently vexed, and hence to Neptune this potency of moving the lands has been assigned. Whoever has learned his first letters knows that in Homer he is called G-enosichthona.

[24,1] Spiritum esse huius mali causam et ipse consentio. De illo disputabo: quomodo intret hic spiritus, utrum per tenuia foramina nec oculis comprehensibilia an per maiora ac patentiora, et utrum ab imo an etiam per summa terrarum.

[24,1] That a spirit is the cause of this evil I myself also consent. Of that I shall dispute: how this spirit enters, whether through fine openings not comprehensible to the eyes or through larger and more patent ones, and whether from below or even through the uppermost parts of the earth.

[24,2] Hoc incredibile est. Nam in nostris quoque corporibus cutis spiritum respuit nec est illi introitus nisi per quae trahitur, nec consistere quidem a nobis receptus potest nisi in laxiore corporis parte: non enim inter neruos pulpasue sed in uisceribus et patulo interioris partis recessu commoratur.

[24,2] This is incredible. For in our bodies too the skin rejects the breath, and there is for it no entrance except through those by which it is drawn in; nor indeed, once received by us, can it even settle unless in a looser part of the body: for it does not dwell among the nerves or the flesh, but abides in the viscera and in the wide recess of the inner part.

[24,3] Idem de terra suspicari licet uel ex hoc quod motus non in summa terra circaue summam est sed subter et ab imo. Huius indicium est quod altitudinis profundae maria iactantur, motis scilicet his supra quae fusa sunt: ergo uerisimile est terram ex alto moueri et illic spiritum in cauernis ingentibus concipi.

[24,3] The same about the earth it is permitted to suspect, even from this: that the motion is not on the top of the earth or around the surface, but beneath and from the bottom. An indication of this is that the seas of profound depth are tossed, with, namely, those things moved over which they are poured: therefore it is likely that the earth is moved from the deep, and that there the spirit is conceived in enormous caverns.

[24,4] "Immo", inquit', "ceu, cum frigore inhorruimus, tremor sequitur, sic terras quoque spiritus extrinsecus accidens quassat". Quod nullo modo potest fieri. Algere enim debet, ut idem illi accidat quod nobis, quos externa causa in horrorem agit. Accidere autem terrae simile quiddam nostrae affectioni, sed non ex simili causa concesserim.

[24,4] “Nay,” he says, “just as, when we have shuddered with cold, a tremor follows, so too a spirit coming from without shakes the earth.” Which can by no means be done. For it must grow cold, in order that the same thing may befall it as befalls us, whom an external cause drives into shivering. That something similar happens to the earth to our affection I would concede, but not from a similar cause.

Illam interior et altior iniuria debet impellere:

It should be impelled by an interior and deeper injury:

[24,5] cuius rei argumentum uel maximum hoc potest esse quod, cum uehementi motu adapertum ingenti ruina solum est, totas nonnumquam urbes et recipit hiatus ille et abscondit.

[24,5] an argument of this,
indeed the very greatest, can be this: that, when by vehement motion the ground has been laid open
by a huge ruin, that yawning chasm sometimes both receives whole cities
and hides them.

[24,6] Thucydides ait circa Peloponnesiaci belli tempus Atalanten insulam aut totam aut certe maxima ex parte suppressam. Idem Sidone accidisse Posidonio crede. Nec ad hoc testibus opus est: meminimus enim terris interno motu diuulsis loca disiecta et campos interisse.

[24,6] Thucydides says around the time of the Peloponnesian War that the island Atalante was either wholly, or at any rate for the greatest part, submerged. Believe Posidonius that the same happened at Sidon. Nor is there need of witnesses for this: for we remember lands torn asunder by internal motion, places scattered and plains to have perished.

Quod iam dicam quemadmodum existimem fieri.

What I will now say is in what manner I estimate it to come about.

[25,1]Cum spiritus magna ui uacuum terrarum locum penitus oppleuit coepitque rixari et de exitu cogitare, latera ipsa inter quae latet saepius percutit, supra quae urbes interdum sitae sunt. Haec nonnumquam adeo concutiuntur ut aedificia superposita procumbant, nonnumquam in tantum ut parietes quibus fertur omne tegimen caui, decidant in illum subteruacantem locum totaeque urbes in immensam altitudinem uergant.

[25,1]When a wind with great force has completely filled a vacuum space of the earth and has begun to wrestle and to think about an exit, it more and more strikes the very sides between which it lies hidden, above which cities are sometimes situated. These are sometimes so shaken that the edifices set above topple, sometimes to such an extent that the walls, hollow, by which all the covering is borne, fall down into that place lying empty beneath, and whole cities sink into an immense depth.

[25,2] Si uelis credere, aiunt aliquando Ossam Olympo cohaesisse, deinde terrarum motu recessisse et fissam unius magnitudinem montis in duas partes. Tunc effluxisse Peneon, qui paludes quibus laborabat Thessalia siccauit, abductis in se quae sine exitu stagnauerant aquis. Ladon flumen inter Elin et Megalenpolin medius est, quem terrarum motus effudit.

[25,2] If you are willing to believe it, they say that at some time Ossa adhered to Olympus, then
by an earthquake it receded and, being split, made the single mass of the mountain
into two parts. Then the Peneus flowed out, which dried the marshes with which
Thessaly was laboring, drawing into itself the waters which, without an outlet,
had stagnated. The river Ladon lies between Elis and Megalopolis,
which an earthquake poured forth.

[25,3] Per haec quid probo? In laxos specus (quid enim aliud appellem loca uacua?) sub terras spiritum conuenire; quod nisi esset, magna terrarum spatia commouerentur et una multa titubarent: nunc exiguae partes laborant nec umquam per ducenta milia motus extenditur. Ecce hic, qui impleuit fabulis orbem, non transcendit Campaniam.

[25,3] By these things what do I prove? Into roomy caverns (for what else should I call empty places?) beneath the earth the air converges; and if this were not so, great spaces of the lands would be set in commotion and many would totter at once: now slight parts labor, nor does the motion ever extend over 200 miles. Behold, this quake, which has filled the world with tales, does not transcend Campania.

[25,4] Quid dicam; cum Chalcis tremuit, Thebas stetisse? cum laborauit Aegium, tam propinquas illi Patras de motu audisse? Illa uasta concussio quae duas suppressit urbes, Helicen et Burin, circa Aegium constitit.

[25,4] What shall I say? when Chalcis trembled, that Thebes stood fast? when Aegium suffered, that Patras, so near to it, only heard of the motion? That vast concussion which swallowed up two cities, Helice and Bura, was confined to the area around Aegium.

Apparet ergo in tantum spatium motum pertendere quantum illa sub terris uacantis loci inanitas pateat.

Therefore it appears that into so great a space the motion reaches as far as the emptiness of that vacant place beneath the earth lies open.

[26,1] Poteram ad hoc probandum abuti auctoritate magnorum uirorum, qui Aegyptum numquam tremuisse tradunt. Rationem autem huius rei hanc reddunt, quod ex limo tota concreuerit. Tantum enim, si Homero fides est, aberat a continenti Pharos quantum nauis diurno cursu metiri plenis lata uelis potest; sed continenti ammota est: turbidus enim defluens Nilus multumque secum caeni trahens et id subinde apponens prioribus terris Aegyptum annuo incremento semper ultra tulit.

[26,1] I could, to prove this, abuse the authority of great men, who hand down that Egypt has never trembled. The rationale of this matter they render thus: that it has altogether grown together from silt. For Pharos, if faith is owed to Homer, was so far from the continent as a ship can measure in a day’s course with its sails spread full; but it has been brought up to the mainland: for the turbid Nile, flowing down and dragging much mud with it, and continually adding it to the former lands, has always carried Egypt farther out by yearly increment.

Inde pinguis et limosi soli est nec ulla interualla in se habet sed creuit in solidum arescente limo; cuius pressa erat et sedens structura, cum partes glutinarentur, nec quicquam inane interuenire poterat, cum solido liquidum ac molle semper accederet.

Thence it is a rich and muddy soil and has no intervals within itself but grew into a solid as the mud dried; whose structure was pressed and settling, as the parts were being glued together, and nothing void could intervene, since to the solid the liquid and the soft was always being added.

[26,2] Sed mouetur et Aegyptus et Delos, quam Uergilius stare iussit: "immotamque coli dedit et contemnere uentos"; hanc philosophi quoque, credula natio, dixerunt non moueri auctore Pindaro. Thucydides ait antea quidem immotam fuisse sed circa Peloponnesiacum bellum tremuisse;

[26,2] But both Egypt and Delos are moved, which Vergil ordered to stand:
"and he granted it, immobile, to be inhabited and to contemn the winds";
the philosophers too, a credulous nation, said that this does not move, with Pindar as authority. Thucydides says that formerly indeed it was immobile, but around the Peloponnesian war it trembled;

[26,3] Callisthenes et alio tempore ait hoc accidisse: "Inter multa", inquit, "prodigia, quibus denuntiata est duarum urbium, Helices et Buris, euersio, fuere maxime notabilia columna ignis immensi et Delos agitata"; quam ideo stabilem uideri uult, quia mari imposita sit habeatque concauas rupes et saxa peruia, quae dent deprehenso aeri reditum: ob hoc et insulas esse certioris soli urbesque eo tutiores quo propius ad mare accesserint.

[26,3] Callisthenes also says that at another time this happened: "Among the many," he says, "prodigies, by which the overturning of two cities, Helice and Bura, was denounced, the most notable were a column of immense fire and Delos agitated"; which he therefore wants to seem stable, because, being set upon the sea, it has concave cliffs and pervious rocks, which give a return to the trapped air: on this account also islands are of more certain soil, and cities are the safer the nearer they have approached the sea.

[26,4] Falsa haec esse Pompei et Herculaneum sensere. Adice nunc quod omnis ora maris obnoxia est motibus: sic Paphos non semel corruit; sic mobilis et huic iam familiaris malo Nicopolis; Cyprum ambit altum mare et agitatur; Tyros et ipsa tam mouetur quam diluitur. Hae fere causae redduntur propter quas tremat terra.

[26,4] These things have been found false by Pompeii and Herculaneum. Add now that every sea-coast is subject to motions: thus Paphos has not once collapsed; thus Nicopolis, mobile and already familiar with this calamity; Cyprus the deep sea encircles and it is agitated; Tyre itself is as much moved as it is washed away. These are generally the causes rendered on account of which the earth trembles.

[27,1] Quaedam tamen propria in hoc Campano motu accidisse narrantur, quorum ratio reddenda est. Diximus sexcentarum ouium gregem exanimatum in Pompeiana regione. Non est quare hoc putes ouibus illis timore accidisse.

[27,1] Certain things, however, are reported to have occurred peculiar to this Campanian quake, the account of which must be rendered. We have said that a flock of six hundred sheep was struck dead in the Pompeian region. There is no reason for you to think that this happened to those sheep from fear.

[27,2] Aiuni enim solere post magnos terrarum motus pestilentiam fieri, nec id mirum est. Multa enim mortifera in alto latent: aer ipse, qui uel terrarum culpa uel pigritia et aeterna nocte torpescit, grauis haurientibus est, uel corruptus internorum ignium uitio, cum e longo situ emissus est, purum hunc liquidumque maculat ac polluit insuetumque ducentibus spiritum affert noua genera morborum.

[27,2] They say indeed that after great earthquakes pestilence is wont to occur, nor is that a marvel. For many mortiferous things lie hidden in the deep: the air itself, which either through the earth’s fault or through sluggishness and eternal night grows torpid, is heavy to those who draw it in; or, corrupted by the vice of internal fires, when it has been released from a long stagnation, it maculates and pollutes this pure and limpid air, and, unwonted to those drawing breath, brings new kinds of diseases.

[27,3] Quid, quod aquae quoque inutiles pestilentesque in abdito latent, ut quas numquam usus exerceat, numquam aura liberior euerberet? Crassae itaque et graui caligine sempiternaque tectae nihil nisi pestiferum in se et corporibus nostris contrarium habent. Aer quoque, qui mixtus est illis quique inter illas paludes iacet, cum emersit, late uitium suum spargit et haurientes necat.

[27,3] What of the fact that waters too,
useless and pestilential, lie hidden in the depths—such as those which use never
exercises, which a freer breeze never lashes? Therefore, thick and covered with heavy and
everlasting murk, they have in themselves nothing except what is pestiferous and contrary to our
bodies. The air also, which is mixed with them and which lies among those marshes, when it has
emerged, widely spreads its taint and kills those who inhale it.

[27,4] Facilius autem pecora sentiunt, in quae primum pestilentia incurrere solet, quo auidiora sunt: aperto caelo plurimum utuntur et aquis, quarum maxima in pestilentia culpa est. Oues uero mollioris naturae, quo propiora terris ferunt capita, correptas esse non miror, cum afflatus aeris diri circa ipsam humum exceperint. Nocuisset ille et hominibus, si maior exisset; sed illum sinceri aeris copia extinxit, antequam ut ab homine posset trahi surgeret.

[27,4] More easily, however, the herd-beasts perceive it,
upon which pestilence is accustomed first to run, because they are more avid:
they use the open sky very much and the waters, to which the greatest blame
in pestilence belongs. Sheep indeed, of a softer nature, because
they bear their heads nearer to the earth, I do not wonder that they are seized, since they have taken in the afflatus
of dire air right around the ground itself. That would have harmed men, too,
if it had come forth in greater measure; but a supply of pure air extinguished it,
before it could rise so as to be drawn by man.

[28,1] Multa autem terras habere mortifera uel ex hoc intellege, quod tot uenena nascuntur non manu sparsa sed sponte, solo scilicet habente ut boni ita mali semina. Quid, quod pluribus Italiae locis per quaedam foramina pestilens exhalatur uapor, quem non homini ducere, non ferae tutum est? Aues quoque si in illum inciderunt, antequam caelo meliore leniatur, in ipso uolatu cadunt liuentque corpora et non aliter quam per uim elisae fauces tument.

[28,1] But understand from this too that the lands have many mortiferous things that so many venoms are born not sown by hand but spontaneously, the soil, to be sure, having seeds of good as likewise of evil. What of the fact that in several places of Italy through certain openings a pestilent vapor is exhaled which it is safe neither for a man to draw in, nor for a wild beast? Birds also, if they have fallen into it, before it is softened by a better sky, in the very flight fall, and the bodies grow livid, and no otherwise than as if by force their crushed throats swell.

[28,2] Hic spiritus, quamdiu terra se continet, tenui foramine fluens non plus potentiae habet quam ut despectantia et ultro sibi illata conficiat; ubi per saecula conditus tenebris ac tristitia loci creuit in uitium, ipsa ingrauescit mora, peior quo segnior: cum exitum nactus est, aeternum illud umbrosi frigoris malum et infernam noctem euomit ac regionis nostrae aera infuscat; uincuntur enim meliora peioribus.

[28,2] This breath, so long as the earth holds it within itself,
flowing through a slender aperture has no more power than
to dispatch those looking down and what is of its own accord brought upon it; when for ages stored
in the darkness and dreariness of the place it has grown into a vice, the very delay makes it heavier, the slower, the worse:
when it has found an exit, it vomits forth that eternal evil of shadowy frigidity and an infernal night and darkens the air of our region;
for better things are overcome by worse.

[28,3] Tunc etiam ille spiritus purior transit in noxium: inde subitae continuaeque mortes et monstruosa genera morborum, ut ex nouis orta causis. Breuis autem aut longa clades est, prout uitia ualuere, nec prius pestilentia desinit quam spiritum illum grauem exercuit laxitas caeli uentorumque iactatio.

[28,3] Then even that purer spirit passes into the noxious: thence
sudden and continual deaths and monstrous kinds of diseases, as if
arisen from new causes. But the devastation is brief or long, according as the corruptions
have prevailed, nor does the pestilence cease before the laxity of the sky and the tossing of the winds
has worn down that heavy spirit.

[29,1] Nam aliquos insanis attonitisque similes discurrere fecit metus, qui excutit mentes, ubi priuatus ac modicus est: quid? ubi publice terret, ubi cadunt urbes, populi opprimuntur, terra concutitur, quid mirum est animos inter dolorem et metum destitutos aberrasse?

[29,1] For fear has made some run about like the insane and as if thunderstruck, a fear which shakes the minds when it is private and moderate: what? when it terrifies publicly, when cities fall, peoples are oppressed, the earth is shaken, what wonder is it that minds, left destitute between grief and fear, have gone astray?

[29,2] Non est facile inter magna mala consipere. Itaque leuissima fere ingenia in tantum uenere formidinis ut sibi exciderent. Nemo quidem sine aliqua iactura sanitatis expauit, similisque est furentis quisquis timet: sed alios cito timor sibi reddit, alios uehementius perturbat et in dementiam transfert.

[29,2] It is not easy to perceive amid great evils. And so almost the very lightest minds came to such a pitch of dread that they fell out of themselves. No one indeed took fright without some loss of sanity, and whoever fears is like one raving: but fear quickly gives some back to themselves, others it more violently perturbs and transfers into dementia.

[29,3] Inde inter bella errauere lymphatici, nec usquam plura exempla uaticinantium inuenies quam ubi formido mentes religione mixta percussit.

[29,3] Thence, amid wars, the frenzied wandered, nor anywhere
will you find more examples of vaticinators than where dread,
mingled with religion, has struck minds.

[30,1] Statuam diuisam non miror, cum dixerim montes a montibus recessisse et ipsum disruptum esse ab imo solum. "Haec loca ui quondam et uasta conuulsa ruina (tantum aeui longinqua ualet mutare uetustas) dissiluisse ferunt, cum protinus utraque tellus una foret. Uenit ingenti ui pontus et ingens Hesperium Siculo latus abscidit aruaque et urbes aequore diductas angusto interluit aestu."

[30,1] I do not marvel at a statue split, since I have said that mountains have receded from mountains and that the very ground itself has been torn asunder from the depth. "These places once, convulsed by force and by a vast ruin (so greatly does long-remote age avail to change by antiquity) they say burst asunder, when before both lands were one. The sea came with immense force and, immense, cut off the Hesperian side from the Sicilian, and fields and cities, separated by the sea, it flows between with a narrow tide."

[30,2] Uides totas regiones a suis sedibus reuelli et trans mare iacere quod in confinio fuerat; uides et urbium fieri gentiumque discidium, cum pars naturae concita est dehiscens et aliquo mare, ignem, spiritum impegit; quorum mira ut ex toto uis est: quamuis enim parte saeuiat, mundi tamen uiribus saeuit.

[30,2] You see whole regions torn from their own seats and lying across the sea
what had been on the confine; you see also the sundering of cities and of peoples,
when a part of nature, incited and dehiscent, has driven somewhere sea,
fire, or spirit; whose marvel is that its force is as if from the whole: although
indeed it rages in a part, yet it rages with the powers of the world.

[30,3] Sic et Hispanias a contextu Africae mare eripuit, sic per hanc inundationem, quam poetarum maximi celebrant, ab Italia Sicilia reiecta est. Aliquanto autem plus impetus habent quae ex infimo ueniunt: acriora enim sunt quibus nisus est per angusta.

[30,3] Thus too the sea snatched the Spains from the contexture with Africa, thus by this inundation, which the greatest of the poets celebrate, Sicily was cast off from Italy. Somewhat more impetus, however, is had by things that come from below: for fiercer are they whose thrust is through narrows.

[30,4] Quantas res hi terrarum tremores quamque mira spectacula ediderint, satis dictum est: cur ergo aliquis ad hoc stupet quod aes unius statuae, ne solidum quidem sed concauum ac tenue, disruptum est, cum fortasse in illud se spiritus quaerens fugam incluserit? Illud uero quis nescit? Diductis aedificia angulis uidimus moueri iterumque componi.

[30,4] What great things these earth-tremors and how wondrous spectacles have produced has been said enough: why, then, does anyone marvel at this, that the bronze of a single statue, not even solid but concave and thin, has been ruptured, since perhaps into it a current of air, seeking escape, shut itself in? Who, indeed, does not know this? With the corners drawn asunder, we have seen edifices move and then be recomposed.

Quaedam uero parum aptata positu suo et a fabris neglegentius solutiusque composita terrae motus saepius agitata compegit.

But certain things, poorly fitted
in their position and by the craftsmen more negligently and more loosely put together, the earthquake
having often agitated them, has fastened together.

[30,5] Quod si totos parietes et totas findit domos et latera magnarum turrium, quamuis solida sint, scindit et pilas operibus subditas dissipat, quid est quare quisquam dignum adnotari putet sectam esse aequaliter ab imo ad caput in partes duas statuam?

[30,5] But if it splits whole walls and whole
houses and the sides of great towers, although they be solid,
it cleaves them, and it dissipates the piers set beneath the works, what is there for which
anyone should think it worthy to be noted that a statue has been cleft evenly from the bottom
to the head into two parts?

[31,1] Quare tamen per plures dies motus fuit? Non desiit enim assidue tremere Campania, clementius quidem sed cum ingenti damno, quia quassa quatiebat, quibus ad cadendum male stantibus <opus> non erat impelli sed agitari: nondum uidelicet spiritus omnis exierat, sed adhuc, emissa sui parte maiore, oberrabat. Inter argumenta quibus probatur spiritu ista fieri, non est quod dubites et hoc ponere:

[31,1] Why, however, was the motion ongoing through more days? For Campania did not cease
to tremble assiduously, more clemently indeed but with enormous damage, because, once shaken, it kept shaking; and for structures ill-standing for collapse there was no need to be pushed, but to be agitated: plainly not all the spirit had gone out, but still, with the greater part of itself emitted,
it was wandering about. Among the arguments by which it is proved that these things are done by a spirit, there is no reason for you to hesitate to set down this also:

[31,2] cum maximus editus tremor est, quo in urbes terrasque saeuitum est, non potest par illi subsequi alius, sed post maximum lenes motus sunt, quia iam uehement<ior> uis exitum uentis luctantibus fecit; reliquiae deinde residui spiritus non idem possunt, nec illis pugna opus est, cum iam uiam inuenerint sequanturque ea qua prima uis ac maxima euasit.

[31,2] when the greatest tremor has been brought forth, by which it has raged against cities and lands, no other equal to it can follow; but after the greatest there are gentle motions, because now the more vehement force has made an exit, with the winds struggling; then the remnants of the remaining spirit cannot do the same, nor do they have need of a fight, since, once they have found a way, they follow that by which the first and greatest force escaped.

[31,3] Hoc quoque dignum memoria iudico ab eruditissimo et grauissimo uiro cognitum (forte enim, cum hoc euenit, lauabatur): uidisse se affirmat in balneo tessellas quibus solum erat stratum alteram ab altera separari iterumque committi et aquam modo recipi in commissuras pauimento recedente, modo compresso bullire et elidi. Eundem audiui narrantem uidisse se macerias mollius crebriusque tremere quam natura duri sinit.

[31,3] This too I judge worthy of remembrance, learned from a most erudite and most grave man (for by chance, when this befell, he was bathing): he affirms that he saw in the bath the little tessellae with which the floor was paved separate one from another and then be joined again, and that the water at one time was received into the joints as the pavement receded, at another, when compressed, it bubbled and was driven out. I heard the same man relating that he had seen rubble-walls tremble more softly and more frequently than the nature of a hard thing allows.

[32,1] Haec, Lucili, uirorum optime, quantum ad ipsas causas: illa nunc quae ad confirmationem animorum pertinent. Quos magis refert nostra fortiores fieri quam doctiores; sed alterum sine altero non fit: non enim aliunde animo uenit robur quam a bonis artibus, quam a contemplatione naturae.

[32,1] These things, Lucilius, best of men, so far as concerns the causes themselves: now those things which pertain to the confirmation of spirits. It matters more that our people become braver than more learned; but the one does not come about without the other: for strength does not come to the mind from anywhere else than from good arts, than from the contemplation of nature.

[32,2] Quem enim non hic ipse casus aduersus omnes firmauerit, erexerit? Quid est enim cur ego hominem aut feram, quid est cur sagittam aut lanceam tremam? Maiora me pericula expectant: fulminibus et terris et magnis naturae partibus petimur.

[32,2] Whom, indeed, would not this very accident have confirmed against all and raised up? What reason is there, then, why I should tremble at a man or a wild beast, why at an arrow or a lance? Greater perils await me: we are assailed by thunderbolts and by the earth and by the great parts of nature.

[32,3] Ingenti itaque animo mors prouocanda est, siue nos aequo uastoque impetu aggreditur, siue cotidiano et uulgari exitu. Nihil refert quam minax ueniat quantumque sit quod in nos trahat; quod a nobis petit minimum est: hoc senectus a nobis ablatura est, hoc auriculae dolor, hoc umoris in nobis corrupti abundantia, hoc cibus parum obsequens stomacho, hoc pes leuiter offensus.

[32,3] Therefore with a mighty spirit death is to be provoked, whether it assaults us with an even
and vast impetus, or with a quotidian and vulgar exit. It makes no
difference how menacing it comes and how great is that which it drags against us;
what it seeks from us is the very least: this old age is going to take from us,
this the earache, this the abundance of corrupted humor within us,
this food not sufficiently obsequious to the stomach, this a foot lightly hurt.

[32,4] Pusilla res est hominis anima, sed ingens res contemptus animae: hanc qui contempsit securus uidebit maria turbari, etiamsi illa omnes excitauerunt uenti, etiamsi aestus aliqua perturbatione mundi totum in terras uertet oceanum; securus aspiciet fulminantis caeli trucem atque horridam faciem, frangatur licet caelum et ignes suos in exitium omnium, in primis suum, misceat; securus aspiciet ruptis compagibus dehiscens solum, illa licet inferorum regna retegantur. Stabit super illam uoraginem intrepidus et fortasse quo debebit cadere desiliet.

[32,4] A small thing is the soul of man, but a huge thing is the contempt for the soul: he who has despised this will securely see the seas
stirred, even if all the winds have roused them, even if the tide by some
perturbation of the world would turn the whole ocean onto the lands; securely
he will look upon the grim and horrid face of a thunder-flashing sky,
though the heaven be shattered and mingle its fires into the destruction of all, and, in the first place,
his own; securely he will look upon the ground gaping with its fastenings broken,
though those realms of the underworld be laid bare. He will stand above that
abyss un-intrepid, and perhaps he will leap down where he ought to fall.

[32,5] Quid ad me quam magna sint quibus pereo? Ipsum perire non magnum est. Proinde si uolumus esse felices, si nec hominum nec deorum nec rerum timore uersari, si despicere fortunam superuacua promittentem, leuia minitantem, si uolumus tranquille degere et ipsis diis de felicitate controuersiam agere, anima in expedito est habenda: siue illam insidiae siue morbi petent siue hostium gladii siue insularum cadentium fragor siue ipsarum ruina terrarum siue uasta uis ignium urbes agrosque pari clade complexa, qui uolet illam accipiat.

[32,5] What is it to me how great are the things by which I perish? The perishing itself is not great. Accordingly, if we wish to be felicitous, if we would not be tossed about by fear of men nor of gods nor of things, if we would despise Fortune promising superfluities, threatening light things, if we wish to live tranquilly and to conduct a controversy about felicity even with the gods themselves, the soul is to be held in readiness: whether plots or diseases will seek it, or the swords of enemies, or the crash of falling islands, or the ruin of the lands themselves, or the vast force of fires, embracing cities and fields with an equal disaster—let whoever will take it.

[32,6] Quid aliud debeo quam exeuntem hortari et cum bonis ominibus emittere? "Uade fortiter, uade feliciter! Nihil dubitaueris: redderis.

[32,6] What else ought I to do than to exhort her as she goes out and to send her forth with good omens? "Go bravely, go felicitously! Do not doubt at all: you will be returned.

Non de re sed de tempore est quaestio, facis quod quandoque faciendum est. Nec rogaueris nec timueris nec te uelut in aliquod malum exiturum tuleris retro: rerum natura te, quae genuit, expectat et locus melior ac tutior.

Not about the matter but about the time is the question; you are doing what at some point must be done.
Neither ask nor fear nor carry yourself back, as if you were about to go forth into some evil: the nature of things, which engendered you,
awaits you, and a better and safer place.

[32,7] Illic non tremunt terrae nec inter se uenti cum magno nubium fragore concurrunt, non incendia regiones urbesque uastant, non naufragiorum totas classes sorbentium metus est, non arma contrariis disposita uexillis et in mutuam perniciem multorum milium par furor, non pestilentia et ardentes promiscue communes populis cadentibus rogi". Istud leue est: quid timemus? graue est: potius semel incidat quam semper impendeat.

[32,7] There the lands do not tremble, nor
do the winds clash among themselves with a great crash of clouds; not do conflagrations
lay waste regions and cities; there is no fear of shipwrecks swallowing whole fleets;
nor arms arrayed beneath opposing standards and an equal frenzy for the mutual ruin of many thousands; nor pestilence
and pyres burning indiscriminately, shared in common as peoples fall". This is light: what do we fear? It is grave: let it rather befall once than hang over us forever.

[32,8] Ego autem perire timeam, cum terra ante me pereat, cum ista quatiantur quae quatiunt et in iniuriam nostram non sine sua ueniant? Helicen Burinque totas mare accepit: ego de uno corpusculo timeam? Supra oppida duo nauigatur (duo autem quae nouimus, quae in nostram notitiam memoria litteris seruata perduxit: quam multa alia aliis locis mersa sunt, quot populos aut terra aut infra se mare inclusit!): ego recusem mei finem, cum sciam me sine fine non esse?

[32,8] But shall I fear to perish, when the earth perishes before me, when those things that shake are themselves shaken and, to our injury, do not come without their own? Helice and Bura the sea has taken entire: shall I be afraid on account of one little body? Over two towns one sails (two, moreover, which we know, which memory preserved in letters has brought into our notice: how many other things in other places have been submerged, how many peoples has either the earth or the sea beneath itself enclosed!): shall I refuse my end, since I know that I am not without an end?

Immo cum sciam omnia esse finita, ego ultimum suspirium timeam?

Nay rather, since I know that all things are finite, shall I fear the last sigh?

[32,9] Quantum potes itaque, ipse te cohortare, Lucili, contra metum mortis: hic est qui nos humiles facit; hic est qui uitam ipsam, cui parcit, inquietat ac perdit; hic omnia ista dilatat, terrarum motus et fulmina. Quae omnia feres constanter, si cogitaueris nihil interesse inter exiguum tempus et longum.

[32,9] Therefore, as much as you can, exhort yourself, Lucilius, against the fear of death: this is what makes us humble; this is what disquiets and destroys life itself, which it spares; this is what magnifies all those things, earthquakes and thunderbolts. All of which you will bear steadfastly, if you reflect that there is no difference between a small time and a long.

[32,10] Horae sunt quas perdimus; puta dies esse, puta menses, puta annos: perdimus illos nempe perituros. Quid, oro te, refert num perueniam ad illos? Fluit tempus et auidissimos sui deserit; nec quod futurum est meum est nec quod fuit: in puncto fugientis temporis pendeo, et magni est modicum fuisse.

[32,10] They are hours that we lose; suppose them to be days, suppose months,
suppose years: we are losing those, to be sure, destined to perish. What, I beg you, does it matter
whether I come to them? Time flows and deserts even those most avid for it;
neither what will be is mine nor what was: on the point of fleeing
time I hang, and to have been for a little is of great moment.

[32,11] Eleganter ille Laelius sapiens dicenti cuidam "Sexaginta annos habeo", "Hos", inquit, "dicis sexaginta quos non habes". Ne ex hoc quidem intellegimus incomprehensibilis uitae condicionem et sortem temporis semper alieni, quod annos numeramus amissos?

[32,11] Elegantly that wise Laelius, to a certain person saying "I have sixty years," "These," he says, "the sixty you speak of, are those which you do not have." Do we not even from this understand the condition of an incomprehensible life and the lot of time ever alien, since we enumerate the years that are lost?

[32,12] Hoc affigamus animo, hoc nobis subinde dicamus: moriendum est. Quando? Quid tua?

[32,12] Let us affix this to our mind, let us say this to ourselves repeatedly: we must die. When? What is it to you?

Mors naturae lex est, mors tributum officiumque mortalium malorumque omnium remedium est: optauit illam quisquis timet. Omnibus omissis, hoc unum, Lucili, meditare, ne mortis nomen reformides; effice illam tibi cogitatione multa familiarem, ut, si ita tulerit, possis illi et obuiam exire.

Death is the law of nature, death is the tribute and duty of mortals and the remedy of all evils: whoever fears has desired it. Setting everything else aside, meditate on this one thing, Lucilius, so that you do not dread the name of death; make it familiar to yourself by much cogitation, so that, if it so should befall, you can even go to meet it.