Reading Ovid
Page 30
796–803: To introduce the story of Procris’ death, Cephalus recapitulates and expands on 752 (especially concorditer), sketching the loving and harmonious existence they enjoyed: gaudia (796), beātī (797) and fēlīx (twice, 799) describe the result, which is explained by their mūtua cūra and amor sociālis (800). Sexually (801 thalamōs), even gods like Jupiter and Venus would have failed to lure them away (801–2; cf. Cephalus’ earlier brush with Aurora). aequālēs . . . flammae (803) summarises the shared, mutual nature of such feelings for each other.
804–20: Cephalus now describes his early-morning hunting routine. He did not hunt with the crowd but, going solo, put his trust in the magic hunting-spear which Procris had given him (804–8, cf. 756). Satisfied with the morning’s exertions, he would then seek the cool and the shade and the breeze (808–10) – especially the breeze, aura, which he waited for to cool him down and bring him rest (810–12). Cephalus remembers summoning the breeze aloud for this purpose (813–15); he remembers adding playful blandishments, addressing aura almost as if it were human in its ability to respond to his needs and look after him (816–20) – something he now realises was fatal (fāta, 816). Orders like intrēs sinus (814) and words like releuāre, ūrō, uoluptās, foueō, spīritus + ōs all have alternative, quasi-amorous connotations, as do sentiments about aura’s ability to make him love woods and lonely places.
821–34: uōcibus ambiguīs indeed (821): someone hears him, thinks he is in love with a woman called Aura (is the fact that Aur(or)a earlier abducted him significant?), and reports it to Procris (821–5). Love is gullible (826, cf. 719) and Procris’ first reaction is physical collapse (826–7), followed by recovery, lament, and fear of the consequences (827–30). Nevertheless, she is not wholly convinced: doubt, hope and mistrust play their part (spēratque miserrima fallī is a brilliant description of a state of mind) and she decides the evidence of her own eyes is needed before she will condemn her husband (832–4). We are in the same situation as in the first half of the story, only with different players: there Cephalus was suspicious, sought personal evidence and was proved wrong; now it is Procris’ turn, but her search for personal evidence will prove fatal.
835–50: Next morning (835: is the mention of Aurora here significant?), Cephalus goes through the same routine: hunt, rest (836) and summoning of aura (837). But Procris is in hiding, listening; she makes a noise which could be interpreted as that of an animal, Cephalus summons aura again, hears leaves rustling, thinks it is a wild beast and lets fly, hitting his wife (838–43). Distraught, he runs to her cries: he finds her nearly dead, bloodied, and pulling his ‘gift’ out of her body, a line full of pathos (844–7). Frantically, he lifts her up, cuts away her clothes, binds the wound, tries to stop the bleeding, curses himself and begs her to live (847–50). All this is told in pacy, urgent, narrative style.
851–62: Procris’ last plea makes for moving reading: in the name of their marriage vows, the gods, her deserts and their love – four passionate appeals – she calls on Cephalus not to marry Aura (851–6). So Cephalus is brought to realise what he has done. But it is all too late; his only, scant, consolation is that he is able to tell her the truth before she dies (857–8), and that she breathes her last in his arms, at peace (859–62).
This is a tale of the misunderstandings to which, because of human weakness, a certain type of ‘true love’ is subject: the greater one’s ‘love’, the more one is subject to jealousy and fear of betrayal. It is constructed in a quasi-tragic form. ‘Tragedy’ is popularly used nowadays to mean ‘someone dying young or in unusual circumstances’. This is a sad corruption of a literary concept, which is generally characterised by a number of typical – though not necessarily exclusive – markers. These include divine prophecies, ignorance of the true state of affairs (generating irony), self-delusion, misunderstanding and understanding too late to avoid disaster, all of which are present here. But this tale stops short of full-blown tragedy because of the character of the suspicious and somewhat self-regarding Cephalus, who is not exactly that ‘great man’ capable of eliciting our full sympathies.
13 Minos, Ariadne, Daedalus and Icarus, Metamorphōsēs 8.152–235
Background
While Minos was attempting to take Athens (see the Background to passage 12), he had left trouble back home in Crete – the Minotaur, the product of a union between his wife Pasiphae and a bull with whom she had fallen in love (Minos-taurus: Minos-bull). Minos now returns to Crete and decides to rid the family of this blot. For this he turns to the world-famous inventor Daedalus, who had taken refuge in, or been exiled to, Crete after murdering his nephew (and had helped Pasiphae achieve union with the bull).
8.152–68: Minos arrives home and tells Daedalus to construct the winding labyrinth
uōta Iouī Mīnōs †taurōrum corpora centum
soluit, ut ēgressus †ratibus Cūrētida terram
contigit, et †spoliīs decorāta est rēgia fīxīs.
crēuerat †opprobrium generis, foedumque patēbat
155
†mātris adulterium mōnstrī nouitāte bifōrmis;
†dēstinat hunc Mīnōs thalamō remouēre pudōrem,
†multiplicīque domō caecīsque inclūdere tēctīs.
†Daedalus, ingeniō fabrae celeberrimus artis,
pōnit †opus, turbatque notās, et lūmina flexā^
160
dūcit in errōrem uariārum †^ambāge uiārum,
†nōn secus ac liquidīs Phrygius Maeandrus in aruīs
lūdit, et †ambiguō lāpsū refluitque fluitque,
†occurrēnsque sibī uentūrās aspicit undās,
et nunc ad fontēs, nunc ad mare †uersus apertum
165
incertās †exercet aquās: ita Daedalus implet
†innumerās errōre uiās, uixque ipse reuertī
ad †līmen potuit. tanta est fallācia tēctī.
8.169–82: Theseus kills the Minotaur with the help of Ariadne, whom he later deserts
quō postquam †geminam taurī iuuenisque figūram
clausit, et †Actaeō bis pāstum sanguine mōnstrum
170
tertia sors annīs †domuit repetīta nouēnīs,
utque ope †uirgineā nūllīs iterāta^ priōrum
iānua^difficilis †fīlō est inuenta relectō,
prōtinus †Aegīdēs raptā Mīnōide Dīam
†uēla dedit, comitemque suam crūdēlis in illō
175
lītore †dēstituit. dēsertae et multa querentī
†amplexūs et opem Līber tulit, utque perennī
sīdere clāra foret, sūmptam dē fronte †corōnam
†immīsit caelō. tenuēs uolat illa per aurās,
dumque uolat, †gemmae nitidōs uertuntur in ignēs,
180
cōnsistuntque locō, †speciē remanente corōnae,
†quī medius Nīxīque genu est Anguemque tenentis.
8.183–7: Daedalus decides that he and his son shall escape from Crete by flight
Daedalus intereā, †Crētēn longumque perōsus
exilium, tāctusque locī †nātālis amōre,
clausus erat †pelagō. ‘terrās licet’ inquit ‘et undās
185
†obstruat, at caelum certē patet; ībimus illāc!
omnia possideat, nōn possidet āera Mīnōs.’
8.188–202: Daedalus makes and tests the wings; Icarus is thrilled
dīxit, et †ignōtās animum dīmittit in artēs,
nātūramque †nouat. nam pōnit in ōrdine pennās
†ā minimā coeptās, longam breuiōre sequentī,
190
ut clīuō †crēuisse putēs. sīc rūstica^ quondam
†^fistula disparibus paulātim surgit auēnīs.
tum līnō †mediās et cērīs alligat īmās
atque ita †compositās paruō curuāmine flectit,
ut uērās imitētur auēs. puer †Īcarus ūnā
195
&nb
sp; stābat et, ignārus sua sē †tractāre perīcla,
ōre †renīdentī modo quās uaga mōuerat aura,
captābat †plūmās, flāuam modo pollice cēram
†mollībat, lūsūque suō mīrābile^ patris
impediēbat ^opus. postquam manus ultima coeptō
200
†imposita est, geminās opifex lībrāuit in alās
ipse suum corpus, mōtāque pependit in aurā.
8.203–9: Daedalus instructs Icarus on how to fly
†īnstruit et nātum, ‘mediō’ que ‘ut līmite currās,
Īcare,’ ait ‘moneō, nē, sī †dēmissior ībis,
unda †grauet pennās, sī celsior, ignis adūrat.
205
inter utrumque uolā! nec tē spectāre †Boōtēn
aut †Helicēn iubeō strictumque Ōrīonis ēnsem;
mē duce, carpe uiam!’ †pariter praecepta uolandī
trādit, et †ignōtās umerīs accommodat ālās.
What if . . . ? Herewith a digression on a problem:
1. The feathers are laid side by side (189), and Ovid says that they are graded in length, shorter ones following behind longer ones (190); the image of a slope (Ovid invites his audience to imagine it with putēs) and of pan-pipes is used to illustrate it (191–2).
2. But how do the feathers cohere into wings? Ovid tells us that the feathers are bound together down the middle with thread: so that keeps them together. But where does the wax come into it? The wax is īmās, ‘at the base/end/bottom’. Do we then imagine a row of feathers, held together with twine, with the quills stuck into (as it were) a long bar or arm of wax? If so, the finished wing could certainly then be curved slightly, like a real bird’s (194–5).
3. How then, and where on the body, are the wings fitted? Along the arms would be the obvious place, but 201–2 tells us that Daedalus fits his body into the wings (as if into a harness of some sort), and at 209 Ovid tells us the wings are attached to Icarus’ shoulders. This squares with their depiction in Pompeian art (see Figure 3).
4. But how do the wings work? Are they flapped? Possibly: they are certainly moved (216). But to judge from 202, where Daedalus hangs in the wind (‘moved breeze’), 212 where he is elevated on the wings, and 228, their purpose seems to be to catch the breezes: i.e. the escapees are gliding. They would need to adjust their wings to do that efficiently, and that accounts for mouet of 216; note that the wings have already been given a slight curve at 194. Note also that uolō means ‘move through the air’ (cf. 179); it does not necessarily imply ‘flapping one’s wings’. If this is what Ovid had in mind, then when the long bar of wax melts (226–7), the wings (whose feathers are held together by twine) free themselves from the wax as a whole and drop away completely (again, see fig. 3, where Icarus lies on the shore with one wing still attached, the other in one piece next to him). The desperate and terrified Icarus then tries to use his arms as wings, but since arms do not have feathers (nūdōs 227) and ‘lack oarage’ (228: because they have never had ‘oarage’), they are useless. This seems to me the best way of interpreting how Ovid imagined the scene (the passage cited in the Study section should also be consulted on the matter).
5. But to end with a caveat: Daedalus is not a god but a real human being, altering his own and his son’s body so that they can fly. Fantasy and reality, in other words, collide starkly here. Ovid can see how wings could be made, but how they could actually work – how a human body could be adapted so that one could fly using them – is a serious problem. The static-wing gliding theory (rather like a sailing ship, with which Ovid contrasts an oared ship at 228) is the easiest solution.
Back to the text. Icarus is with his father, watching (195). We picture the sort of boy he is by what he is doing; with shining face (197), clearly captivated by the present miracle his father is working (mīrābile, 199), he gets in the way all the time by playing with feathers and wax (197–200). The picture moves onto a quite different level with the narratorial comment ignārus – what Icarus does not realise is that he is in fact handling the means of his death. Job done, Daedalus fits himself into the wings, and hangs there in the breeze.
Figure 3 Daedalus and Icarus. Wall-painting from Pompeii.
8.210–35: Icarus flies too close to the sun and plunges to his death
inter opus †monitūsque genae maduēre senīlēs,
210
et patriae †tremuēre manūs; dedit ōscula^ nātō*
nōn iterum ^repetenda *suō, pennīsque leuātus
ante uolat comitīque timet, uelut †āles, ab altō^
quae teneram †prōlem prōdūxit in āera ^nīdō,
hortāturque sequī, †damnōsāsque ērudit artēs,
215
et mouet ipse suās et nātī †respicit ālās.
hōs, aliquis †tremulā dum captat harundine piscēs,
aut pāstor †baculō stīuāue innīxus arātor,
uīdit et †obstipuit, quīque aethera carpere possent,
crēdidit esse deōs. et iam †Iūnōnia laeuā
220
parte †Samos (fuerant Dēlosque Parosque relictae),
dextra †Lebinthos erat fēcundaque melle Calymnē,
cum puer audācī coepit gaudēre †uolātū
dēseruitque ducem, caelīque †cupīdine tractus
altius ēgit iter. †rapidī uīcīnia sōlis
225
mollit †odōrātās, pennārum uincula, cērās;
†tābuerant cērae; nūdōs quatit ille lacertōs,
†rēmigiōque carēns nōn ūllās percipit aurās,
ōraque †caeruleā^ patrium clāmantia nōmen
excipiuntur ^aquā, quae nōmen trāxit ab illō.
230
at pater īnfēlīx, nec iam pater, †‘Īcare,’ dīxit,
‘Īcare,’ dīxit ‘ubi es? quā tē †regiōne requīram?’
‘Īcare’ dīcēbat: pennās †aspexit in undīs,
†dēuōuitque suās artēs, corpusque sepulcrō
condidit, et tellūs ā nōmine dicta †sepultī.
235
Learning vocabulary for Passage 13, Minos, Ariadne, Daedalus and Icarus
corōn-a ae 1f. crown
mōnstr-um ī 2n. monstrosity
pateō 2 be exposed, come to light; be open
pisc-is is 3m. fish
taur-us ī 2m. bull
tēct-um ī 2n. building
uolō 1 move through the air, fly
Study Section
1. What image does Ovid present to us of Daedalus? Is it condemnatory in any sense?
2. Compare Icarus with Phaethon (passage 4).
3. How does Ovid generate pathos in this story?
4. Compare this passage with Ovid’s alternative and in interesting ways very different version of the story in his Ars Amātōria 2.19–98, where Ovid uses the myth to illustrate that one cannot restrain or pin down any creature with wings, e.g. Amor!
5. What moral would you care to draw from this story? Do not aspire too high? The dangers of new technologies? Always obey father? Or would you rather avoid moralising from it?
Vocabulary and grammar
152 *taur-us ī 2m. bull. Minos promised the sacrifice to Jupiter if he was successful in his campaign to punish the Athenians for the death of his son Androgeos. The sacrifice of one hundred oxen is a hecatomb (Greek hekaton 100, bous ox)
taurōrum corpora centum: in apposition to uōta
153 rat-is is 3f. boat
Cūrētida: Greek acc. of Cūrētis ‘belonging to the Curetes’, agreeing with terram; it means ‘Cretan’, the Curetes being an ancient C(u)retan people who worshipped Zeus by beating shields, etc. (they saved the baby Zeus from death at the hands of his father Cronus by beating their shields and so drowning the infant cries that would have given him away)
154 spoli-a ōrum 2n. pl. spoils (arms, equipment etc.)
decorō 1 adorn
rēgi-a ae 1f. palace
fīx-us a um hung up (fīg�
�). Hanging up spoils of war at home – rather than in a temple – was a particularly Roman thing to do
155 opprobri-um ī 2n. shame, disgrace (referring to the Minotaur; the point is that the Minotaur has now grown up and cannot be ignored or hidden any longer)
foed-us a um disgusting
*pateō 2 be exposed, come to light; be open
156 mātris: i.e. Pasiphae, mother of the Minotaur
adulteri-um ī 2n. adultery
*mōnstr-um ī 2n. monstrosity
nouitās nouitāt-is 3f. phenomenon
bifōrm-is e two-formed (i.e. man and bull)
157 dēstinō 1 determine
thalamō: i.e. from his marriage
158 multiplex multiplic-is complex
caec-us a um dark, treacherous
inclūdō 3 shut up
*tēct-um ī 2n. building (the ‘labyrinth’)
159 Daedal-us ī 2m. Daedalus
faber fabr-a um of the craftsman