Summer of Horace: Ode 1.15: Back from the Dead

Hello again, dear readers! I am back from another one of my famous unannounced hiati. I would have updated regularly but, uh... I was on a spirit quest. Yeah sure, we'll go with that. Anyway, here is the next ode for you to read!

The Latin:

Pastor cum traheret per freta nauibus
Idaeis Helenen perfidus hospitam,
ingrato celeris obruit otio
     uentos ut caneret fera

Nereus fata: 'Mala ducis aui domum
quam multo repetet Graecia milite,
coniurata tuas rumpere nuptias
     et regnum Priami uetus.

Heu, heu, quantus equis, quantus adest uiris
sudor! Quanta moues funera Dardanae
genti! Iam galeam Pallas et aegida
     currusque et rabiem parat.

Nequicquam Veneris praesidio ferox
pectes caesariem grataque feminis
inbelli cithara carmina diuides;
     nequicquam thalamo grauis

hastas et calami spicula Cnosii
uitabis strepitumque et celerem sequi
Aiacem: tamen, heu serus, adulteros
      crines puluere collines.

Non Laertiaden, exitium tuae
gentis, non Pylium Nestora respicis?
Vrgent inpauidi te Salaminius
     Teucer, te Sthenelus sciens

pugnae, siue opus est imperitare equis,
non auriga piger; Merionen quoque
nosces. Ecce furit te reperire atrox
     Tydides melior patre,

quem tu, ceruus uti uallis in altera
uisum parte lupum graminis inmemor,
sublimi fugies mollis anhelitu,
     non hoc pollicitus tuae.

Iracunda diem proferet Ilio
matronisque Phrygum classis Achillei;
post certas hiemes uret Achaicus
     ignis Iliacas domos.'

The Translation:

When Paris the treacherous shepard hauled

his hostess Helen over the sea on a Trojan ship

Nereus stayed the quick winds with

an unwelcome stillness to recount

their savage fate:  “You bring evil to your grandfather’s home

Which the Greeks will claim with a martial mass,

Having conspired to destroy your wedlock

And the venerable kingdom of Priam.

Alas, alas, how much toil will there be, how much sweat

of men and horses! How many deaths of the Dardan people

will move you? Already, Pallas Minerva prepares

her helmet and shield, her chariot and her wrath.

This daring is fruitless: under Venus’ protection

you will comb your hair and share the tranquil lyre

and songs with women. You will hide away in your

love-chamber,

far from the heavy spear and the spines of Cretan arrows

and the clamor of war, and swift Ajax will follow you

However, you will wash your lecherous hair in dust

(too late though, pity).

Do you not recall Ulysses, the ruin of your nation

Nor Pylian Nestor? Salaminian Teucer

Presses you fearlessly, as does Sthenelus

Smart in a fight, nor dull as a charioteer

In the business of commanding horses;

You’ll also learn of Meriones. Look, bloody Tydides

 and his more skillful father, he burns to find you

You little bitch, you will flee him, high headed and wheezing

just as a deer flees, heedless of his forage

having seen the wolf in the adjacent vale,

You didn’t promise this to your girl.

The choler of Achilles’ fleet may delay

the Phyrgian day for Ilium and its women;

But after a certain winter, the Achaian fires

will burn Trojan homes.

This is an interesting poem, I think, because under most circumstances, Romans were firmly under team Trojan. Romans prided themselves on being the descendants of Aeneas (though to be perfectly fair, there's not exactly a 1:1 causation there), and in any case were not going to associate themselves with a bunch of tricksy Greeks. However, whoever you are, be you on the side of Trojans or Greeks, and whether you idealize, humanize or demonize the other side, there is one thing that all Trojan war fans can agree on: Paris is a snotty little bitch. This little cunt breaks sacred hospitality to stow away Helen (who, depending on whom you ask, may or may not be okay with this) and proceeds to dick around in the citadel of Troy while his brother, Hector, deals with the giant Greek Army which came frothing at the mouth thirsty for Trojan blood (well, most of them). At no point does he offer to recompense to the Greeks, and the one time he does duel Menelaus, which could have ended the war with both sides standing, Venus bails him out right after he got his ass handed to him. Later, he kills Achilles with a poisoned arrow, like a cunt. To top it all off, the entire thing was because he said that Venus was the prettiest between her, Juno and Minerva. This, of course is contrary to all common sense, as everyone knows that when asked to mediate between a dispute among gods, the correct thing to do is kill yourself.