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If e’er to worthy’s lot befell The grievance of a goatish smell;
If e’er poor mortal limp’d about A martyr to the racking gout;
Your lucky rival, on my oath, Has got a glorious share of both.
So, oft as with your love he’s lain, You’ve had your vengeance on the twain
His odour well-nigh chokes the fair, His gout is more than man can bear.
[Si cui iure bono sacer alarum obstitit hircus,
aut si quem merito tarda podagra secat,
Aemulus iste tuus, qui vestrum exercet amorem,
mirifice est a te nactus utrumque malum.
nam quotiens futuit totiens ulciscitur ambos:
illam adfligit odore, ipse perit podagra.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 71 “To Virro” [tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
(Source)
"To Virro" or "To Verro". Not surprisingly, many 19th and early 20th Century translators skip over this one.
If gouty pangs, or a rank goatish smell, Did ever with poor mortal justly dwell;
Thy rival, Virro, to console thy care, Hath got of each disease an ample share:
For, when in hot embrace the lovers burn, She's choak'd with stench, and he with gout is torn.
[tr. Nott (1795) #68]
An of a goat-stink damned from armpits fusty one suffer,
Or if a crippling gout worthily any one rack,
'Tis that rival o' thine who lief in loves of you meddles,
And, by a wondrous fate, gains him the twain of such ills.
For that, oft as he ..., so oft that penance be two-fold;
Stifles her stench of goat, he too is kilt by his gout.
[tr. Burton (1893)]
If ever anyone was deservedly cursed with an atrocious goat-stench from armpits, or if limping gout did justly gnaw one, it is your rival, who occupies himself with your love, and who wondrously has obtained each these ills from you. For as often as he takes his pleasure, he just as often takes vengeance on both; herself he prostrates by his stink, he is slain by his gout.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
If there ever was a good fellow afflicted with rankness, or one who was racked for his sins with the gout, your rival who shares your privileges has got both from you to a marvel. Whenever they meet, they both pay dear for it; she is overwhelmed with the gust, he half dead with the gout.
[tr. Warre Cornish (1913)]
If ever honest fellow was afflicted With goatish armpits, or a worthy dame
In all her limbs by gout was held constricted, Then, my good Virro, Mr. What's his name,
Who shares your mistress with you, now must see
That he in both is made your legatee.
He pays a double price for every bout:
His smell offends her, she gives him her gout.
[tr. Wright (1926)]
My friend, your rival (if anyone) deserves the curses that have fallen upon him,
for the smell of a goat leaps from his armpits and he is woe fully lamed by fiery sciatica.
But here's a double miracle: since he has inherited your diseases
when he sleeps with your lady she faints away (killed maybe) by the vicious
goat hidden in his arms, while he, poor bastard, lies impotent, weak with the frantic pain
rising from his sciatica.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
If anyone ever deserved such underarm goatodor or ever merited gout's terrible swellings,
it's that rival of yours, who's sharing not only your mistress but -- quite miraculously -- your diseases also!
Whenever he fucks her, both of them suffer your vengeance: she gets your goat & he's the one that your gout gets.
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
If a goat’s smell under the arms rightly prevents anyone,
or if a slow gout deservedly cripples them,
your rival, who keeps your lover busy,
is discovered by you to be wonderfully sick with both.
Now whenever he fucks her, you’re revenged on the pair:
she’s troubled by the smell, he’s ruined by the gout.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
If the damnable goat in the armpits justly hurt anyone, or limping gout ever rightfully caused pain,
that rival of yours, busy humping your shared lover, by contracting both maladies wonderfully fits the bill:
Every time that he fucks, he punishes both parties: the odor sickens her, the gout slays him.
[tr. Green (2005)]
Therefore ye Furies who with vengeful ire
Visit men’s deeds, whose brows with serpents crowned
Show the heart’s blast of wrath, haste hither, haste,
And listen to the words of my complaint
Forced from the depths of my unhappy heart,
O! helpless, burning, blinded, frenzied me!
But since it is God’s truth my heart reveals,
Suffer not yet my woe to come to nought,
But ev’n as Theseus left me desolate,
Such desolation whelm his life, his home.
[Quare, facta virum multantes vindice poena
Eumenides, quibus anguino redimita capillo
frons exspirantis praeportat pectoris iras,
huc huc adventate, meas audite querelas,
quas ego, vae miserae, 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.]
Catullus (c. 84 BC – c. 54 BC) Latin poet [Gaius Valerius Catullus]
Carmina # 64 “The Nuptuals of Peleus and Thetis,” ll. 193-202 [tr. MacNaghten (1925)]
(Source)
Ariadne's curse on Theseus, who abandoned her on a desert island after she eloped with him.
And you, Eumenides, with snaky hair, Who for men's crimes due chastisements prepare;
Whose inward rage sits pictur'd on your brows; O, hither come, and listen to my woes!
Woes pour'd in torture from my inmost soul, Where burning phrenzy, and wild tumult roll!
Rack'd is this breast with no fictitious pain; Then hear my pray'r, just maids, nor hear in vain!
And grant that Theseus, and his race may share Such fate accurst, as now I'm doom'd to bear!
[tr. Nott (1795)]
Ye, who avenge their crimes on all mankind, Furies, whose hair with angry snakes entwined
Paint on the threatening brow the hell-born breast, Haste, hither haste, and hear my fell request.
'Tis helpless frenzy, senseless, blind despair; Teach me, 'tis all that's left, my frantic prayer;
Rend from my secret heart each cold restraint, And pour forth all my soul in my complaint.
Since then it warmly flows from heartfelt pain, Let me not speak my rage, my grief in vain;
But grant, that still the reckless, ruthless mind Which made him fly, and leave a wretch behind,
May guide, may urge his life with headlong pace, Till Theseus curse alike himself and all his race
[tr. Lamb (1821)]
Come ye that wreak on man his guilt with retribution dire, Ye maids, whose snake-wreathed brows bespeak your bosoms' vengeful ire!
Come ye , and hearken to the curse which I, of sense forlorn, Hurl from the ruins of a heart with mighty anguish torn!
Though there be fury in my words, and madness in my brain, Let not my cry of woe and wrong assail your ears in vain!
Urge the false heart that left me here still on with head long chase From ill to worse, till Theseus curse himself and all his race!
[tr. T. Martin (1861)]
Ye powers ! who to the crimes of men dire chastisement assign; Eumenides! around whose heads the snaky ringlets twine;
Whose brows portray the hellish wrath that rankles in your breast; Oh! hither, hither haste, and list to this the sad request
Which from my inmost soul, alas! to misery consigned, I'm forced to pour -- a helpless wretch, with burning madness blind;
And since even from my bosom's depths these bursts of anguish stream, Oh, doom them not to vanish like an airy, idle dream,
But let him in that soul, in which he has abandon'd me, Bring on himself and all his race death and black infamy.
[tr. Cranstoun (1867)]
Then, O sworn to requite man's evil wrathfully, Powers Gracious, on whose grim brows, with viper tresses inorbed, Looks red-breathing forth your bosom's feverous anger;
Now, yea now come surely, to these loud miseries harken, All I cry, the afflicted, of inmost marrow arising, Desolate, hot with pain, with blinding fury bewilder'd.
Yet, for of heart they spring, grief's children truly begotten, Verily, Gods, these moans you will not idly to perish. But with counsel of evil as he forsook me deceiving,
Death to his house, to his heart, bring also counsel of evil.
[tr. Ellis (1871)]
Therefore, O you who 'venge man's deed with penalties direful,
Eumenides! aye wont to bind with viperous hairlocks
Foreheads, -- Oh, deign outspeak fierce wrath from bosom outbreathing,
Hither, Oh hither, speed, and lend you all ear to my grievance,
Which now sad I (alas!) outpour from innermost vitals
Maugre my will, sans help, blind, fired with furious madness.
And, as indeed all spring from veriest core of my bosom,
Suffer you not the cause of grief and woe to evanish;
But with the Will wherewith could Theseus leave me in loneness,
Goddesses! bid that Will lead him, lead his, to destruction.
[tr. Burton (1893)]
Wherefore you requiters of men's deeds with avenging pains, O Eumenides, whose front enwreathed with serpent-locks blazons the wrath exhaled from your bosom, come here, here, listen to my complaint, which I, sad wretch, am urged to outpour from my innermost marrow, helpless, burning, and blind with frenzied fury. And since in truth they spring from the very depths of my heart, be unwilling to allow my agony to pass unheeded, but with such mind as Theseus forsook me, with like mind, O goddesses, may he bring evil on himself and on his kin.
[tr. Smithers (1894)]
Therefore , O ye that visit the deeds of men with vengeful pains, ye Eumenides, whose foreheads bound with snaky hair bear on their front the wrath which breathes from your breast, hither, hither haste, hear my complaints which I ( ah , unhappy!) utter 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 left me desolate, so, goddesses, may he bring ruin on himself and his own!
[tr. Warre Cornish (1904)]
Wherefore, ye Furies, ye who on men's sin Due punishment inflict, whose very hair
In viper's form reveals the rage within, Hither in judgment come and hear my prayer;
The only outlet for my helpless wrath, As blind with rage I burn and pour it forth.
And as I launch my curses from my soul, I charge you guard them till they reach their goal;
God grant the shallow heart that left me here Bring death on those that Theseus holds most dear.
[tr. Symons-Jeune (1923)]
Ye, then, who vindicate their deeds of shame On guilty men; whose vengeance-breathing breast
Speaks in the snaky hair, the withering flame: Come, Furies, come! Give ear to the request An injured woman makes, with maddening woe oppressed.
Since forced by sad misfortune I complain; Since deep and true the sorrows that I bear;
Ah, let not my petition be in vain! Let the vile author of my misery share As sad a fate, as gloomy a despair,
As brought his cruel deed on wretched me!
[tr. Wright (1926)]
Hear me gods whose antiquity flows backward beyond the time of man, whose vengeance falls on all, O wake again with snakes circling your foreheads and now releasing rivers of blood pouring from sightless eyes, make these the signals of the anger (red coals in your breasts) that brings you out of the forgotten womb of time. Hear what I say, look at my heart, wrapped round with flames, my soul in madness, O remember these last words spoken from my heart, O gods! And as Theseus has now forgotten me, make him a stranger to his own soul, so that the architecture of his mind falls to ruin.
[tr. Gregory (1931)]
O Furies, charged with vengeance that punishes evil,
you whose bleak foreheads are girded with writhing serpents
which clearly display the outrage yo7ur cold hearts keep hidden,
come here to me quickly, listen to my lamentation,
which I deliver in pain from the depths of my passion,
unwilling forced to, afire, blinded with madness!
-- Since what I say is the truth, since I say it sincerely,
do not allow my lament to fade with out issue:
but just as Theseus carelessly left me to die here,
may that same carelessness ruin him and his dearest!
[tr. C. Martin (1979)]
Therefore, you that punish with avenging price men's crimes,
Furies, Eumenides, whose brows, bound with serpents for tresses,
announce the rages of your panting chests,
Be here! Be here! Respond to my complaints
which I -- pitiful I -- am forced to bring out from my very bones,
helpless, burning, blind with mindless rage.
Since those are true-born from my deepest heart,
do not allow my suffering to gutter out.
Goddesses, may the same intent that left me behind, alone,
defile Theseus himself and his own with death.
[tr. Banks (1997)]
So you Eumenides who punish by avenging
the crimes of men, your foreheads crowned
with snaky hair, bearing anger in your breath,
here, here, come to me, listen to my complaints,
that I, wretched alas, force, weakened, burning,
out of the marrow of my bones, blind with mad rage.
Since these truths are born in the depths of my breast,
you won’t allow my lament to pass you by,
but as Theseus left me alone, through his intent,
goddesses, by that will, pursue him and his with murder.
[tr. Kline (2001)]
So, you whose vengeful exactions answer men's crimes, you Furies whose snake-wreathed brows announce the wrath gusting up from your secret hearts, I summon you here to me now: give ear to the complaints which I in my misery am forced to dredge up from the inmost core of my being -- helpless, burning, blinded by mindless frenzy. But since they're the true products of my private heart, don't let my grief all go for nothing; rather in just such a mood as Theseus abandoned me to my lonely fate, let him, goddesses, now doom both himnself and his!
[tr. Green (2005)]
Wherefore, Eumenides, punishing the deeds of men with avenging penalty,
to whom the forehead having been encircled with snaky hair
carries forth angers breathing out of the chest,
here come here, hear my complaints,
which I , alas wretched, have been compelled to bring forth
from the bottom marrows helpless, burning, blind with crazy fury.
Since such things are being born from the deepest chest,
you don't suffer our grief to wane,
but with what type of mind Theseus left me alone,
let him pollute both himself and his own with death, goddesses
[tr. Wikisource (2018)]
People complain about the bad things that happen to em that they don’t deserve but they seldom mention the good. About what they done to deserve them things. I don’t recall that I ever give the good Lord all that much cause to smile on me. But he did.
Cormac McCarthy (1933-2023) American novelist, playwright, screenwriter No Country for Old Men, ch. 4 (2005)
(Source)
This said, the thief lifted his hands on high, Making the figs with both his thumbs, and shrieking: “The fico for Thee, God! take that, say I!”
At once I liked the snakes; for one came sneaking About his throat, and wreathed itself around As though to say: “I will not have thee speaking.”
[Al fine de le sue parole il ladro le mani alzò con amendue le fiche, gridando: “Togli, Dio, ch’a te le squadro!”.
Da indi in qua mi fuor le serpi amiche, perch’una li s’avvolse allora al collo, come dicesse ’Non vo’ che più diche’.]
Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet The Divine Comedy [Divina Commedia], Book 1 “Inferno,” Canto 25, l. 1ff (25.1-6) (1320) [tr. Sayers (1949)]
(Source)
In Circle 8, the 7th Bolgia, where thieves are tormented by snakes. After chatting with Dante, one of the damned souls makes obscene gestures toward God.
The "fig" is generally thought to be poking the thumb between the index and middle finger, a gesture still found around the Mediterranean and Latin America, and carries the same sentiment as flipping someone off. The precise gesture is debated (with relish) by Dante scholars, all of whom agree at the very least that it is a naughty one.
When thus the Thief had spoken, he his hands
Lifted aloft with mocking signs, and cried;
"See these, O God, for pointed they're to you."
The Serpents now were to me friends become;
For one entiwn'd himself about this neck,
As if he'd say, You shall not more blaspheme.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]
Sternly he ceas'd, with execrations dire;
And, loud blaspheming Heav'n's Eternal Sire, He rais'd his ruffian hands, and dare his wrath!
But soon a spiny snake his members binds,
Another round his vocal passage winds, And stops with many a fold the felon's breath.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1]
When he had spoke, the sinner rais’d his hands
Pointed in mockery, and cried: “Take them, God!
I level them at thee!” From that day forth
The serpents were my friends; for round his neck
One of then rolling twisted, as it said,
“Be silent, tongue!”
[tr. Cary (1814)]
The plunderer ceased, and twisting both his thumbs
Between the fingers, tossed his hands on high,
Crying, "Take mine homage, God, to thee it comes!"
Thenceforth befriended me the serpent fry.
For one around his neck that moment twined.
As it had said, "None other word will I
From him."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]
At the conclusion of his words, the thief raised up his hands with both the figs, shouting: "Take them, God, for at thee I aim them!" From this time forth, the serpents were my friends; for one of them then coiled itself about his neck, as if saying: "Thou shalt speak no farther!"
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]
And when his words were ended, there the thief
Upraises his hands in mockery on high --
"Take them, O God! I level them at thee."
Henceforth the serpent race and I were friends;
One, at the point, his neck entwining o'er,
As if -- "I do not wish thee to say more."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]
He spoke, and when he ended then the thief His hands uplifted, and with sign obscene, Exclaim'd -- "Thus I defy thee, oh, thou God!"
Henceforth as friends I held that serpent brood, For one of them coil'd instant round his neck, As if he would have said -- "Speak thou no more!"
[tr. Johnston (1867)]
At the conclusion of his words, the thief Lifted his hands aloft with both the figs, Crying: "Take that, God, for at thee I aim them."
From that time forth the serpents were my friends; For one entwined itself about his neck
As if it said: "I will not thou speak more"
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]
At the end of his speech the robber raised his hands with both their figs, crying, 'Take them, God, for at thee I show them.' From that time to this have the serpents been my friends, seeing that one wound itself then about his neck, as though it said: 'I will not that thou say more.'
[tr. Butler (1885)]
When he had closed his speech the robber there Raised his clenched fingers with the thumb thrust through, Shouting: "God take him, him to thee I bare."
Then did the serpents prove my guardians true, For one entwined himself around his neck. As though it said. Thou shalt not speak anew.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]
At the end of his words the thief raised his hands with both the figs, crying, “Take that, God! for at thee I square them.” Thenceforth the serpents were my friends, for then one coiled around his neck, as if it said, “I will not that thou say more.”
[tr. Norton (1892)]
His words came to an end, the thief held both his hands aloft with scornful gesture, the while he cried aloud: " Take it, God, for it is at Thee I aim it." From thenceforth were the snakes my friends, for at that moment one of them entwined himself about his neck, as if to say," 'Tis not my will that thou shouldst utter more."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]
When he had made an end of words, the robber Upraised his hands with both the figs of insult, Crying out: "Take it, God, at thee I square them."
Serpents have been endeared to me thenceforward; For on his neck one coiled itself that moment, As who should say: "I let thee not speak further."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]
At the end of his words the thief lifted up his hands with both the figs, crying, "Take that, God, for at Thee I square them!" From that time forth the serpents were my friends, for one coiled itself then about his neck, as if to say: I will not have thee say more."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]
When he had made an end, the thief exclaimed, Raising his hands with both the figs on high: "Take thou them, God; at thee, at thee they are aimed."
Thenceforth the serpents were no enemy To me; for round his neck, as if it hissed Thou speak'st no more! one coiled and clung thereby.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]
When he had finished, the thief -- to his disgrace -- raised his hands with both fists making figs, and cried: "Here, God! I throw them in your face!"
Thereat the snakes became my friends, for one coiled itself about the wretch's neck as if it were saying: "You shall not go on!"
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]
At the end of his words the thief raised up his hands with both the figs, crying, “Take them, God, for I aim them at you!” From this time forth the serpents were my friends, for one then coiled itself about his neck, as if it said, “You shall say no more.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]
When he had finished saying this, the thief shaped his fists into figs and raised them high and cried: "Here, God, I've shaped them just for you!"
From then on all those snakes became my friends, for one of them at once coiled round his neck as if to say, "That's all you're going to say."
[tr. Musa (1971)]
When he had finished with his words, the thief raised high his fists with both figs cocked and cried: “Take that, o God; I square them off for you!”
From that time on, those serpents were my friends, for one of them coiled then around his neck, as if to say, “I'll have you speak no more."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]
When he had finished speaking the thief Raised both his hands, making obscene gestures, And called out: ‘There you are God, so much for you!’
From that moment the serpents were my friends, Because one of them wound about his neck As if to say: ‘I want you to say no more.'
[tr. Sisson (1981)]
The thief held up his hands when he was through, And "God," he cried, making the fig with both -- "Take these: I aim them squarely up at you!"
The serpents were my friends from that time forth. For then one coiled itself about his neck As if to say, "That's all then, from your mouth."
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]
At the end of his words the thief raised his hands with both the figs, crying: “Take them, God, I’m aiming at you!” From then on snakes have been my friends, because one of them wrapped itself around his neck, as if to say “I won’t let him say more.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]
At the end of his speech, the thief raised his hands, both making the fig, the obscene gesture, with thumb between fingers, shouting: ‘Take this, God, I aim it at you.’ From that moment the snakes were my friends, since one of them coiled itself round his neck, as if hissing: ‘You will not be able to speak again.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]
His words now reached their end. And then the robber hoisted hands on high -- a fig-fuck formed in each -- and screamed: "Take that! I'm aiming, God, at you!"
From that point on, the serpents were my friends. For one entwined its length around his neck as if to say: "I'd have him speak no more."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]
Then, making the figs with both his thumbs,
the thief raised up his fists and cried:
'Take that, God! It's aimed at you!'
From that time on the serpents were my friends,
for one of them coiled itself around his neck
as if to say, 'Now you shall speak no more.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]
His words thrown down, the thief held up his hands, Making an obscene gesture with both his thumbs And crying: "For you, O God, I aim this at you!"
And then I began to like the snakes, for one Of them was quickly coiling around his neck, As if saying" "You've talked as much as you're allowed to."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]
The thief raised both his hands when he said this,
Two fingers up from each, the figs: and cried
“You get it, God? You know what you can kiss?”
From then on, all the snakes were on my side,
For one looped round his neck, as if to say
“You've said enough.”
[tr. James (2013)]
And you, my Tyrians,
harry with hatred all his line, his race to come:
make that offering to my ashes, send it down below.
No love between our peoples, ever, no pacts of peace!
Come rising up from my bones, you avenger still unknown,
to stalk those Trojan settlers, hunt with fire and iron,
now or in time to come, whenever the power is yours.
Shore clash with shore, sea against sea, and sword
against sword — this is my curse — war between all
our peoples, all their children, endless war!
[Tum vos, o Tyrii, stirpem et genus omne futurum
exercete odiis, cinerique haec mittite nostro
munera. Nullus amor populis, nec foedera sunto.
Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor,
qui face Dardanios ferroque sequare colonos,
nunc, olim, quocumque dabunt se tempore vires.
Litora litoribus contraria, fluctibus undas
imprecor, arma armis; pugnent ipsique nepotesque.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 4, l. 622ff (4.622-629) [Dido] (29-19 BC) [tr. Fagles (2006), l. 775ff]
(Source)
Dido's deathbed curse, "foretelling" the Punic Wars between her Carthage and Aeneas' descendants in Rome.
O Tyrians, strive this Nation to supplant
With restless wars this to my ashes grant:
Never joyn leagues, contract no amities,
And from our bones let some revenger rise,
Who Trojans may pursue with fire, and sword,
Ah, may when ever time shall strength afford,
Shores shores oppose, seas seas, our stocks debate
With arms gainst arms maintaine, I imprecate.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
And you, my Tyrians, ev'ry curse fulfil.
Perpetual hate and mortal wars proclaim,
Against the prince, the people, and the name.
These grateful off'rings on my grave bestow;
Nor league, nor love, the hostile nations know!
Now, and from hence, in ev'ry future age,
When rage excites your arms, and strength supplies the rage
Rise some avenger of our Libyan blood,
With fire and sword pursue the perjur'd brood;
Our arms, our seas, our shores, oppos'd to theirs;
And the same hate descend on all our heirs!
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
And, Tyrians, you through time to come His seed with deathless hatred chase:
Be that your gift to Dido's tomb: No love, no league 'twixt race and race.
Rise from my ashes, scourge of crime, Born to pursue the Dardan horde
To-day, to-morrow, through all time, Oft as our hands can wield the sword:
Fight shore with shore, fight sea with sea, Fight all that are or e'er shall be!
[tr. Conington (1866)]
And ye, O Tyrians, follow with your hate
His seed, and all his future race! Be this
Your offering on my tomb! No love, no league
Between you ! Oh, may some avenger rise
From out my ashes, who with fire and sword
Shall chase these Dardan settlers, now, and in
The coming time, wherever strength is given;
Shores with shores fighting, waves with waves, and
arms With arms, -- they and their last posterity
[tr. Cranch (1872)]
And you, O Tyrians, hunt his seed with your hatred for all ages to come; send this guerdon to our ashes. Let no kindness nor truce be between the nations. Arise out of our dust, O unnamed avenger, to pursue the Dardanian settlement with firebrand and steel. Now, then, whensoever strength shall be given, I invoke the enmity of shore to shore, wave to water, sword to sword; let their battles go down to their children's children.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
And ye, O Tyrians, 'gainst his race that is, and is to be,
Feed full your hate! When I am dead send down this gift to me:
No love betwixt the peoples twain, no troth for anything!
And thou, Avenger of my wrongs, from my dead bones outspring,
To bear the fire and the sword o'er Dardan-peopled earth
Now or hereafter; whensoe'er the day brings might to birth.
I pray the shore against the shore, the sea against the sea,
The sword 'gainst sword -- fight ye that are, and ye that are to be!
[tr. Morris (1900)]
Them and their children's children evermore
Ye Tyrians, with immortal hate outwear.
This gift -- 'twill please me best -- for Dido's shade prepare.
This heritage be yours; no truce nor trust
'Twixt theirs and ours, no union or accord
Arise, unknown Avenger from our dust;
With fire and steel upon the Dardan horde
Mete out the measure of their crimes' reward.
To-day, to-morrow, for eternity
Fight, oft as ye are able -- sword with sword,
Shore with opposing shore, and sea with sea;
Fight, Tyrians, all that are, and all that e'er shall be!
[tr. Taylor (1907)], st. 81-82, l. 720ff]
And -- O ye Tyrians! I
sting with your hatred all his seed and tribe
forevermore. This is the offering
my ashes ask. Betwixt our nations twain,
No love! No truce or amity! Arise,
Out of my dust, unknown Avenger, rise!
To harry and lay waste with sword and flame
those Dardan settlers, and to vex them sore,
to-day, to-morrow, and as long as power
is thine to use! My dying curse arrays
shore against shore and the opposing seas
in shock of arms with arms. May living foes
pass down from sire to son insatiate war
[tr. Williams (1910)]
Then do ye, O Tyrians, pursue with hate his whole stock and the race to come, and to my dust offer this tribute! Let no love nor league be between the nations. Arise from my ashes, unknown avenger! to chase with fire and sword the Dardan settlers, to-day, hereafter, whenever strength be given! May shore with shore clash, I pray, waters with waters, arms with arms; may they have war, they and their children's children!
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
And you, O Tyrians, hate, and hate forever
The Trojan stock. Offer my dust this homage.
No love, no peace, between these nations, ever!
Rise from my bones, O great unknown avenger,
Hunt them with fire and sword, the Dardan settlers,
Now, then, here, there, wherever strength is given.
Shore against shore, wave against wave, and war,
War after war, for all the generations.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
Let you, my Tyrians, sharpen your hatred upon his children
And all their seed for ever: send this as a present to
My ghost. Between my people and his, no love, no alliance!
Rise up from my dead bones, avenger! Rise up, one
To hound the Trojan settlers with fire and steel remorselessly,
Now, some day, whenever the strength for it shall be granted!
Shore to shore, sea to sea, weapon to weapon opposed --
I call down a feud between them and us to the last generation!
[tr. Day-Lewis (1952)]
Then, Tyrians, hunt down
with hatred all his sons and race to come;
send this as offering unto my ashes.
Do not let love or treaty tie our peoples.
May an avenger rise up from my bones,
one who will track with firebrand and sword
the Dardan settlers, now and in the future,
at any time that ways present themselves.
I call your shores to war against their shores,
your waves against their waves, arms with their arms.
Let them and their sons' sons learn what is war.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]
Then, O my Tyrians, besiege with hate
His progeny and all his race to come:
Make this your offering to my dust. No love,
No pact must be between our peoples; No,
But rise up from my bones, avenging spirit!
Harry with fire and sword the Dardan countrymen
Now, or hereafter, at whatever time
The strength will be afforded. Coast with coast
In conflict, I implore, and sea with sea,
And arms with arms: may they contend in war,
Themselves and all the children of their children!
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981), l. 865ff]
As for you, my Tyrians, you must pursue with hatred the whole line of his descendants in time to come. Make that your offering to my shade. Let there be no love between our peoples and no treaties. Arise from my dead bones, O my unknown avenger, and harry the race of Dardanus with fire and sword wherever they may settle, now and in the future, whenever our strength allows it. I pray that we may stand opposed, shore against shore, sea against sea, and sword against sword. Let there be war between the nations and between their sons forever.
[tr. West (1990)]
Then, O Tyrians, pursue my hatred against his whole line
and the race to come, and offer it as a tribute to my ashes.
Let there be no love or treaties between our peoples.
Rise, some unknown avenger, from my dust, who will pursue
the Trojan colonists with fire and sword, now, or in time
to come, whenever the strength is granted him.
I pray that shore be opposed to shore, water to wave,
weapon to weapon: let them fight, them and their descendants.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
And you, my Tyrians, must persecute his line
Throughout the generations -- this your tribute
To Dido's ashes. May treaties never unite
These nations, may no love ever be lost between them
And from my bones may some avenger rise up
To harry the Trojans with fire and sword,
Now and whenever we have the power.
May coast oppose coast, waves batter waves,
Arms clash with arms, may they be ever at war,
They themselves and their children forever.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
Tyrians, you must torment his sons
and all his future race. Make this offering to my ashes.
Let there be no love or treaties between us.
Rise from my bones, unknown avenger,
hunt the Dardan colonists with flames and swords,
now or any times there's strength to strike!
My curse is this: our lands, our seas, our swords will clash.
The Trojans will fight wars for generations.
[tr. Bartsch (2021)]
But I’d sooner have the depths of earth gape open,
and almighty Father hurl me down to Hades
with his bolt, to the pallid shades and inky night,
before I disobey my conscience or its laws.
[Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dehiscat
Vel pater omnipotens adigat me fulmine ad umbras,
Pallentis umbras Erebo noctemque profundam,
Ante, pudor, quam te violo aut tua iura resolvo.]
Virgil (70-19 BC) Roman poet [b. Publius Vergilius Maro; also Vergil] The Aeneid [Ænē̆is], Book 4, l. 24ff (4.24-29) [Dido] (29-19 BC) [tr. Bartsch (2021)]
(Source)
Dido, regarding her loyalty to her dead husband even as she falls in love with Aeneas.
But first earth swallow me, or mighty Jove
Shall to the shades with dreadfull thunder smite,
Pale shades of Erebus and deepest night,
Ere shame I violate thee, or wrong thy rites.
[tr. Ogilby (1649)]
But first let yawning earth a passage rend,
And let me thro' the dark abyss descend;
First let avenging Jove, with flames from high,
Drive down this body to the nether sky,
Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie,
Before I break the plighted faith I gave!
[tr. Dryden (1697)]
But sooner may earth from her lowest depths yawn for me, or the almighty Sire hurl me by his thunder to the shades, the pale shades of Erebus and deep night, than I violate thee, modesty, or break they laws.
[tr. Davidson/Buckley (1854)]
But first for me may Earth unseal The horrors of her womb,
Or Jove with awful thunderpeal Dismiss me into gloom,
The gloom of Orcus' dim twilight,
Or deeper still, primeval night,
Ere wound I thee, my woman's fame,
Or disallow thy sacred claim.
[tr. Conington (1866)]
But I would rather that the steadfast earth
Should yawn beneath me, from its lowest depths,
Or the Omnipotent Father hurl me down
With thunder to the shades, the pallid shades
Of Erebus, and night profound, ere thee,
O sacred shame, I violate, or break
Thy laws.
[tr. Cranch (1872)]
But rather, I pray, may earth first yawn deep for me, or the Lord omnipotent hurl me with his thunderbolt into gloom, the pallid gloom and profound night of Erebus, ere I soil thee, mine honour, or unloose thy laws.
[tr. Mackail (1885)]
And yet I pray the deeps of earth beneath my feet may yawn,
I pray the Father send me down bolt-smitten to the shades,
The pallid shades of Erebus, the night that never fades,
Before, O Shame, I shame thy face, or loose what thou hast tied!
[tr. Morris (1900)]
But O! gape Earth, or may the Sire of might
Hurl me with lightning to the Shades amain,
Pale shades of Erebus and abysmal Night,
Ere, wifely modesty, thy name I stain,
Or dare thy sacred precepts to profane.
[tr. Taylor (1907), st. 4, l. 28ff]
But may the earth gape open where I tread,
and may almighty Jove with thunder-scourge
hurl me to Erebus' abysmal shade,
to pallid ghosts and midnight fathomless,
before, O Chastity! I shall offend
thy holy power, or cast thy bonds away!
[tr. Williams (1910)]
But rather, I would pray, may earth yawn for me to its depths, or may the Almighty Father hurl me with his bolt to the shades -- the pale shades and abysmal night of Erebus -- before, O Shame, I violate thee or break thy laws!
[tr. Fairclough (1916)]
But I pray, rather,
That earth engulf me, lightning strike me down
To the pale shades and everlasting night
Before I break the laws of decency.
[tr. Humphries (1951)]
But no, I would rather the earth should open and swallow me
Or the Father of heaven strike me with lightning down to the shades --
The pale shades and deep night of the Underworld -- before
I violate or deny pure widowhood's claim upon me.
[tr. Day Lewis (1952)]
But I should call upon the earth to gape
and close above me, or on the almighty
Father to take his thunderbolt, to hurl
me down to the shades, the pallid shadows
and deepest night of Erebus, before
I'd violate you, Shame, or break your laws!
[tr. Mandelbaum (1971)]
But O chaste life, before I break your laws,
I pray that Earth may open, gape for me
Down to its depth, or the omnipotent
With one stroke blast me to the shades, pale shades
Of Erebus and the deep world of night!
[tr. Fitzgerald (1981)]
But I would pray that the earth open to its depths and swallow me or that the All-powerful Father of the Gods blast me with his thunderbolt and hurl me down to the pale shades of Erebus and its bottomless night before I go against my conscience and rescind its laws.
[tr. West (1990)]
But I pray rather that earth might gape wide for me, to its depths,
or the all-powerful father hurl me with his lightning-bolt
down to the shadows, to the pale ghosts, and deepest night
of Erebus, before I violate you, Honour, or break your laws.
[tr. Kline (2002)]
But may the earth gape open and swallow me,
May the Father Almighty blast me
Down to the shades of Erebus below
And Night profound, before I violate you,
O Modesty, and break your vows.
[tr. Lombardo (2005)]
I pray that the earth gape deep enough to take me down
or the almighty Father blast me with one bolt to the shades,
the pale, glimmering shades in hell, the pit of night,
before I dishonor you, my conscience, break your laws.
[tr. Fagles (2006), l. 30ff]
After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all — the trouble is, humans do have a knack for choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.
Joanne "Jo" Rowling (b. 1965) British novelist [writes as J. K. Rowling and Robert Galbraith] Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, ch. 17 [Dumbledore] (1997)
As for language, almost everything goes now. That is not to say that verbal taboos have disappeared, but merely that they have shifted somewhat. In my youth, for example, there were certain words you couldn’t say in front of a girl; now you can say them, but you can’t say “girl.”
Tom Lehrer (b. 1928) American mathematician, satirist, songwriter
“In His Own Words: On Life, Lyrics and Liberals,” Washington Post (3 Jan 1982)
Elisha left Jericho to go to Bethel, and on the way some boys came out of a town and made fun of him. “Get out of here, baldy!” they shouted. Elisha turned around, glared at them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord. Then two she-bears came out of the woods and tore forty-two of the boys to pieces.
The Bible (The Old Testament) (14th - 2nd C BC) Judeo-Christian sacred scripture [Tanakh, Hebrew Bible], incl. the Apocrypha (Deuterocanonicals)
2 Kings 2:23-24 [GNT (1976)]
(Source)
Alternate translations:
And he went up from thence unto Bethel: and as he was going up by the way, there came forth little children out of the city, and mocked him, and said unto him, Go up, thou bald head; go up, thou bald head. And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them.
[KJV (1611)]
From there he went up to Bethel, and while he was on the road up, some small boys came out of the town and jeered at him. ‘Go up, baldhead!’ they shouted ‘Go up, baldhead!’ He turned round and looked at them; and he cursed them in the name of Yahweh. And two she-bears came out of the wood and savaged forty-two of the boys.
[JB (1966)]
He went up from there to Bethel, and while he was going up on the way, some small boys came out of the city and jeered at him, saying, “Go away, baldhead! Go away, baldhead!” When he turned around and saw them, he cursed them in the name of the Lord. Then two she-bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys.
[NRSV (1989 ed.)]
From there he went up to Bethel. As he was going up the road, some little boys came out of the town and jeered at him, saying, “Go away, baldhead! Go away, baldhead!” He turned around and looked at them and cursed them in the name of GOD. Thereupon, two she-bears came out of the woods and mangled forty-two of the children.
[RJPS (2006)]
From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. "Go on up, you baldhead!" they said. "Go on up, you baldhead!" He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the youths.
[NIV (2011 ed.)]
