Complete Works of Catullus

by Catullus

  lectulus in molli complexu matris alebat,

  quales Eurotae praecingunt flumina myrtus

  aurave distinctos educit verna colores,

  non prius ex illo flagrantia declinavit

  lumina, quam cuncto concepit corpore flammam

  funditus atque imis exarsit tota medullis.

  For they tell how of old, driven by a cruel pestilence to pay a penalty for the slaughter of Androgeos, Cecropia was wont to give as a feast to the Minotaur chosen youths, and with them the flower of unwedded maids. Now when his narrow walls were troubled by these evils, Theseus himself for his dear Athens chose to offer his own body, rather than that such deaths, living deaths, of Cecropia should be borne to Crete. Thus then, speeding his course with light bark and gentle gales, he comes to lordly Minos and his haughty halls. Him when the damsel beheld with eager eye, the princess, whom her chaste couch breathing sweet odours still nursed in her mother’s soft embrace, like myrtles which spring by the streams of Eurotas, or the flowers of varied hue which the breath of spring draws forth, she turned not her burning eyes away from him, till she had caught fire in all her heart deep within, and glowed all flame in her inmost marrow.

  heu misere exagitans immiti corde furores

  sancte puer, curis hominum qui gaudia misces,

  quaeque regis Golgos quaeque Idalium frondosum,

  qualibus incensam iactastis mente puellam

  fluctibus, in flavo saepe hospite suspirantem!

  quantos illa tulit languenti corde timores!

  quanto saepe magis fulgore expalluit auri,

  cum saevum cupiens contra contendere monstrum

  aut mortem appeteret Theseus aut praemia laudis!

  non ingrata tamen frustra munuscula divis

  promittens tacito succepit vota labello.

  nam velut in summo quatientem brachia Tauro

  quercum aut conigeram sudanti cortice pinum

  indomitus turbo contorquens flamine robur,

  eruit (illa procul radicitus exturbata

  prona cadit, late quaevis cumque obuia frangens,)

  sic domito saevum prostravit corpore Theseus

  nequiquam vanis iactantem cornua ventis.

  inde pedem sospes multa cum laude reflexit

  errabunda regens tenui vestigia filo,

  ne labyrintheis e flexibus egredientem

  tecti frustraretur inobservabilis error.

  Ah! thou that stirrest cruel madness with ruthless heart, divine boy, who minglest joys of men with cares, and thou, who reignest over Golgi and leafy Idalium, on what billows did ye toss the burning heart of the maiden, often sighing for the golden-headed stranger! what fears did she endure with fainting heart! how often did she then grow paler than the gleam of gold, when Theseus, eager to contend with the savage monster, was setting forth to win either death or the meed of valour! Yet not unsweet were the gifts, though vainly promised to the gods, which she offered with silent lip. For as a tree which waves its boughs on Taurus’ top, an oak or a cone-bearing pine with sweating bark, when a vehement storm twists the grain with its blast, and tears it up; — afar, wrenched up by the roots it lies prone, breaking away all that meets its fall — so did Theseus overcome and lay low the bulk of the monster, vainly tossing his horns to the empty winds. Thence he retraced his way, unharmed and with much glory, guiding his devious footsteps by the fine clew, lest as he came forth from the mazy windings of the labyrinth the inextricable entanglement of the building should bewilder him.

  sed quid ego a primo digressus carmine plura

  commemorem, ut linquens genitoris filia vultum,

  ut consanguineae complexum, ut denique matris,

  quae misera in gnata deperdita laeta

  omnibus his Thesei dulcem praeoptarit amorem:

  aut ut vecta rati spumosa ad litora Diae

  aut ut eam devinctam lumina somno

  liquerit immemori discedens pectore coniunx?

  saepe illam perhibent ardenti corde furentem

  clarisonas imo fudisse e pectore voces,

  ac tum praeruptos tristem conscendere montes,

  unde aciem pelagi vastos protenderet aestus,

  tum tremuli salis adversas procurrere in undas

  mollia nudatae tollentem tegmina surae,

  atque haec extremis maestam dixisse querellis,

  frigidulos udo singultus ore cientem:

  But why should I leave the first subject of my song and tell of more; how the daughter, flying from her father’s face, the embrace of her sister, then of her mother last, who lamented, lost in grief for her daughter — how she chose before all these the sweet love of Theseus; or how the ship was borne to the foaming shores of Dia; or how when her eyes were bound with soft sleep her spouse left her, departing with forgetful mind? Often in the madness of her burning heart they say that she uttered piercing cries from her inmost breast; and now would she sadly climb the rugged mountains, thence to strain her eyes over the waste of ocean-tide; now run out to meet the waters of the rippling brine, lifting the soft vesture of her bared knee. And thus said she mournfully in her last laments, uttering chilly sobs with tearful face:

  ‘sicine me patriis avectam, perfide, ab aris

  perfide, deserto liquisti in litore, Theseu?

  sicine discedens neglecto numine divum,

  immemor a! devota domum periuria portas?

  nullane res potuit crudelis flectere mentis

  consilium? tibi nulla fuit clementia praesto,

  immite ut nostri vellet miserescere pectus?

  at non haec quondam blanda promissa dedisti

  voce mihi, non haec miserae sperare iubebas,

  sed conubia laeta, sed optatos hymenaeos,

  quae cuncta aereii discerpunt irrita venti.

  nunc iam nulla viro iuranti femina credat,

  nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles;

  quis dum aliquid cupiens animus praegestit apisci,

  nil metuunt iurare, nihil promittere parcunt:

  sed simul ac cupidae mentis satiata libido est,

  dicta nihil metuere, nihil periuria curant.

  certe ego te in medio versantem turbine leti

  eripui, et potius germanum amittere crevi,

  quam tibi fallaci supremo in tempore dessem.

  pro quo dilaceranda feris dabor alitibusque

  praeda, neque iniacta tumulabor mortua terra.

  quaenam te genuit sola sub rupe leaena,

  quod mare conceptum spumantibus exspuit undis,

  quae Syrtis, quae Scylla rapax, quae vasta Carybdis,

  talia qui reddis pro dulci praemia vita?

  si tibi non cordi fuerant conubia nostra,

  saeva quod horrebas prisci praecepta parentis,

  attamen in vestras potuisti ducere sedes,

  quae tibi iucundo famularer serva labore,

  candida permulcens liquidis vestigia lymphis,

  purpureave tuum consternens veste cubile.

  “Thus then, having borne me afar from my father’s home, thus hast thou left me, faithless, faithless Theseus, on the lonely shore? thus departing, unmindful of the will of the gods, forgetful, ah! dost thou carry to thy home the curse of perjury? could nothing bend the purpose of thy cruel mind? was no mercy present in thy soul, to bid thy ruthless heart incline to pity for me? Not such were the promises thou gavest me once with winning voice, not this didst thou bid me hope, ah me! no, but a joyful wedlock, but a desired espousal; all which the winds of heaven now blow abroad in vain. Henceforth let no woman believe a man’s oath, let none believe that a man’s speeches can be trustworthy. They, while their mind desires something and longs eagerly to gain it, nothing fear to swear, nothing spare to promise; but as soon as the lust of their greedy mind is satisfied, they fear not then their words, they heed not their perjuries. I — thou knowest it — when thou wert tossing in the very whirl of death, saved thee, and set my heart rather to let my brother go than to fail thee, now faithless found, in thy utmost need. And for this I shall be given
to beasts and birds to tear as a prey; my corpse shall have no sepulture, shall be sprinkled with no earth. What lioness bore thee under a desert rock? what sea conceived thee and vomited thee forth from its foaming waves? what Syrtis, what ravening Scylla, what waste Charybdis bore thee, who for sweet life returnest such meed as this? If thou hadst no mind to wed with me for dread of the harsh bidding of thy stern father, yet thou couldst have led me into thy dwellings to serve thee as a slave with labour of love, laving thy white feet with liquid water, or with purple coverlet spreading thy bed.

  sed quid ego ignaris nequiquam conquerar auris,

  externata malo, quae nullis sensibus auctae

  nec missas audire queunt nec reddere voces?

  ille autem prope iam mediis versatur in undis,

  nec quisquam apparet vacua mortalis in alga.

  sic nimis insultans extremo tempore saeva

  fors etiam nostris invidit questibus auris.

  Iuppiter omnipotens, utinam ne tempore primo

  Gnosia Cecropiae tetigissent litora puppes,

  indomito nec dira ferens stipendia tauro

  perfidus in Cretam religasset navita funem,

  nec malus hic celans dulci crudelia forma

  consilia in nostris requiesset sedibus hospes!

  nam quo me referam? quali spe perdita nitor?

  Idaeosne petam montes? at gurgite lato

  discernens ponti truculentum dividit aequor.

  an patris auxilium sperem? quemne ipsa reliqui

  respersum iuvenem fraterna caede secuta?

  coniugis an fido consoler memet amore?

  quine fugit lentos incuruans gurgite remos?

  praeterea nullo colitur sola insula tecto,

  nec patet egressus pelagi cingentibus undis.

  nulla fugae ratio, nulla spes: omnia muta,

  omnia sunt deserta, ostentant omnia letum.

  non tamen ante mihi languescent lumina morte,

  nec prius a fesso secedent corpore sensus,

  quam iustam a divis exposcam prodita multam

  caelestumque fidem postrema comprecer hora.

  “But why should I, distracted with woe, cry in vain to the senseless airs — the airs that are endowed with no feeling, and can neither hear nor return the messages of my voice? He meanwhile is now tossing almost in mid-sea, and no human being is seen on the waste and weedy shore. Thus fortune too, full of spite, in this my supreme hour has cruelly grudged all ears to my complaints. Almighty Jupiter, I would the Attic ships had never touched Gnosian shores, nor ever the faithless voyager, bearing the dreadful tribute to the savage bull, had fastened his cable in Crete, nor that this evil man, hiding cruel designs under a fair outside, had reposed in our dwellings as a guest! For whither shall I return, lost, ah, lost? on what hope do I lean? shall I seek the mountains of Sidon? how broad the flood, how savage the tract of sea which divides them from me! Shall I hope for the aid of my father? — whom I deserted of my own will, to follow a lover dabbled with my brother’s blood! Or shall I console myself with the faithful love of my spouse, who is flying from me, bending his tough oars in the wave? and here too is naught but the shore, with never a house, a desert island; no way to depart opens for me; about me are the waters of the sea; no means of flight, no hope; all is dumb, all is desolate; all shows me the face of death. Yet my eyes shall not grow faint in death, nor shall the sense fail from my wearied body, before I demand from the gods just vengeance for my betrayal, and call upon the faith of the heavenly ones in my last hour.

  quare facta virum multantes vindice poena

  Eumenides, quibus anguino redimita capillo

  frons exspirantis praeportat pectoris iras,

  huc huc adventate, meas audite querellas,

  quas ego, vae misera, extremis proferre medullis

  cogor inops, ardens, amenti caeca furore.

  quae quoniam verae nascuntur pectore ab imo,

  vos nolite pati nostrum vanescere luctum,

  sed quali solam Theseus me mente reliquit,

  tali mente, deae, funestet seque suosque.’

  “Therefore, O ye that visit the deeds of men with vengeful pains, ye Eumenides, whose foreheads bound with snaky hair announce the wrath which breathes from your breast, hither, hither haste, hear my complaints which I (ah, unhappy!) bring forth from my inmost heart perforce, helpless, burning, blinded with raging frenzy. For since my woes come truthfully from the depths of my heart, suffer not ye my grief to come to nothing: but even as Theseus had the heart to leave me desolate, with such a heart, ye goddesses, may he bring ruin upon himself and his own!”

  has postquam maesto profudit pectore voces,

  supplicium saevis ecens anxia factis,

  annuit invicto caelestum numine rector;

  quo motu tellus atque horrida contremuerunt

  aequora concussitque micantia sidera mundus.

  ipse autem caeca mentem caligine Theseus

  consitus oblito dimisit pectore cuncta,

  quae mandata prius constanti mente tenebat,

  dulcia nec maesto sustollens signa parenti

  sospitem Erechtheum se ostendit visere portum.

  namque ferunt olim, classi cum moenia divae

  linquentem gnatum ventis concrederet Aegeus,

  talia complexum iuveni mandata dedisse:

  When she had poured out these words from her sad breast, earnestly demanding vengeance for cruel deeds; the Lord of the heavenly ones bowed assent with sovereign nod, and at that movement the earth and stormy seas trembled, and the heavens shook the quivering stars. But Theseus himself, darkling in his thoughts with blind dimness, let slip from his forgetful mind all the biddings which formerly he had held firm with constant heart, and raised not the welcome sign to his mourning father, nor showed that he was safely sighting the Erechthean harbour. For they say that ere while, when Aegeus was trusting his son to the winds, as with his fleet he left the walls of the goddess, he embraced the youth and gave him this charge:

  ‘gnate mihi longa iucundior unice vita,

  gnate, ego quem in dubios cogor dimittere casus,

  reddite in extrema nuper mihi fine senectae,

  quandoquidem fortuna mea ac tua feruida virtus

  eripit invito mihi te, cui languida nondum

  lumina sunt gnati cara saturata figura,

  non ego te gaudens laetanti pectore mittam,

  nec te ferre sinam fortunae signa secundae,

  sed primum multas expromam mente querellas,

  canitiem terra atque infuso puluere foedans,

  inde infecta vago suspendam lintea malo,

  nostros ut luctus nostraeque incendia mentis

  carbasus obscurata dicet ferrugine Hibera.

  quod tibi si sancti concesserit incola Itoni,

  quae nostrum genus ac sedes defendere Erecthei

  annuit, ut tauri respergas sanguine dextram,

  tum vero facito ut memori tibi condita corde

  haec vigeant mandata, nec ulla oblitteret aetas;

  ut simul ac nostros invisent lumina collis,

  funestam antennae deponant undique vestem,

  candidaque intorti sustollant vela rudentes,

  quam primum cernens ut laeta gaudia mente

  agnoscam, cum te reducem aetas prospera sistet.’

  “My son, my only son, dearer to me than all my length of days restored to me but now in the last end of old age, my son, whom I perforce let go forth to doubtful hazards, — since my fortune and thy burning valour tear thee from me, unwilling me, whose failing eyes are not yet satisfied with the dear image of my son, I will not let thee go gladly with cheerful heart, nor suffer thee to bear the tokens of prosperous fortune: but first will bring forth many laments from my heart, soiling my gray hairs with earth and showered dust: thereafter will I hang dyed sails on thy roving mast, that so the tale of my grief and the fire that burns in my heart may be marked by the canvas stained with Iberian azure. But if she who dwells in holy Itonus, who vouchsafes to defend our race and the abode
s of Erechtheus, shall grant thee to sprinkle thy right hand with the bull’s blood, then be sure that these my commands live, laid up in thy mindful heart, and that no length of time blur them: that as soon as thy eyes shall come within sight of our hills, thy yardarms may lay down from them their mourning raiment, and the twisted cordage raise a white sail: that so I may see at once and gladly welcome the signs of joy, when a happy hour shall set thee here in thy home again.”

  haec mandata prius constanti mente tenentem

  Thesea ceu pulsae ventorum flamine nubes

  aereum nivei montis liquere cacumen.

  at pater, ut summa prospectum ex arce petebat,

  anxia in assiduos absumens lumina fletus,

  cum primum infecti conspexit lintea veli,

  praecipitem sese scopulorum e vertice iecit,

  amissum credens immiti Thesea fato.

  sic funesta domus ingressus tecta paterna

  morte ferox Theseus, qualem Minoidi luctum

  obtulerat mente immemori, talem ipse recepit.

  quae tum prospectans cedentem maesta carinam

  multiplices animo voluebat saucia curas.

  These charges at first did Theseus preserve with constant mind; but then they left him, as clouds driven by the breath of the winds leave the lofty head of the snowy mountain. But the father, as he gazed out from his tower-top, wasting his longing eyes in constant tear-floods, when first he saw the canvas of the bellying sail, threw himself headlong from the summit of the rocks, believing Theseus destroyed by ruthless fate. Thus bold Theseus, as he entered the chambers of his home, darkened with mourning for his father’s death, himself received such grief as by forgetfulness of heart he had caused to the daughter of Minos. And she the while, gazing out tearfully at the receding ship, was revolving manifold cares in her wounded heart.

  at parte ex alia florens volitabat Iacchus

  cum thiaso Satyrorum et Nysigenis Silenis,

  te quaerens, Ariadna, tuoque incensus amore.

  quae tum alacres passim lymphata mente furebant

  euhoe bacchantes, euhoe capita inflectentes.

  harum pars tecta quatiebant cuspide thyrsos,

  pars e divolso iactabant membra iuvenco,

  pars sese tortis serpentibus incingebant,

  pars obscura cavis celebrabant orgia cistis,

  orgia quae frustra cupiunt audire profani;

  plangebant aliae proceris tympana palmis,