Notesale: Turn your study into money

Document Preview

Extracts from the notes are below, to see the PDF you'll receive please use the links above

---

Catullus 64
The pine trees born on top of Pelion are said once to have swum through the liquid waves of
Neptuneto the rivers of Phasos and the country of Aeetes, when chosen young men, the strength of
Argive youth, wanting to steal the golden fleece from Colchis, dared to traverse the salty deep with
swift ship , sweeping the dark blue waters with fir-wood palms
...

That ship first touched inexperienced Amphitrite with course, which, at the same time as she
ploughed the windy water with her beak, and turned the waves white with foam, with turned oar,
faces emerged from the glittering whirlpool of the sea, the marine Nereids, admiring the marvel
...

Then Peleus is said to have burned with love for Thetis, then Thetis did not scorn human marriage,
then the father himself felt Peleus ought to be joined to Thetis
...

I will often address you with my song
...

Did Thetis, most beautiful of the Nereids, embrace you? Did Tethys consent for you to marry her
granddaughter, and Oceanus, who embraces the whole world with sea?
As soon as the longed for day arrived, with the time finished (ie with the wait over?), with a
meeting all Thessaly comes together at the hosue, the halls are filled with a happy gathering; they
bear gifts before themselves, they show joy with their face
...

Noone tends the fields, the necks of the heifers soften, the lowly vine is not cut back by the curved
rake, the bull does not break up the soil with sideways plough, the scythe does not diminish the
shade of the leafy trees, squalid rust creeps over deserted ploughs
...

Ivory thrones shine white, cups gleam on tables, the whole splendid house rejoices with royal
treasure
...
This cloth, adorned with ancient figures of men,
shows the virtues of heroes with marvellous art
...
Not yet does she even believe that she sees
what she sees, when first roused from deceiving sleep, she sees herself, miserable, deserted on the
lonely sand
...

The Minoan girl looks out from the seaweed far off with sad eyes, like a stone image of a bacchant,
alas, she looks out and moves with great waves of care, not retaining her delicate headband on her
blonde head, her breast not covered by her light cloak wrapped around, nor are her milky breasts
encircled by the smooth girdle
...

But not then caring for her headband, nor then for her flowing dress, she in turn hangs on you
Theseus, with all her heart, all her soul, all her mind, lost
...

For they say that once, forced by cruel plague to pay the penalty for Androgeos' slaughter, Athens
was accustomed to give chosen young men, along with the glory of unmarried girls as a feast for the
Minotaur
...

And thus, pressing on with light ship and gentle breezes, he came to greathearted Minos and his
proud halls
...

Alas, wretchedly stirring passions with pitiless heart, holy boy, who mixes the joys of men with
cares, and you who rule Golgos and leafy Idalia, with what waves you scattered the incensed girl
with mind, often sighing over a blond guest
...

For like, on the top of Mount Taurus the untameable hurricane, twisting the strength of the limbshaking oak with wind, or of the cone-bearing pine with sweating bark, uproots it (and having been
wrenched up far off from the root it falls sideways, breaking whatever it meets widely) thus Theseus
laid low the savage monster with tamed body, throwing its horns to the empty winds in vain
...

But why, having digressed much from my first story, should I recall how the daughter, leaving her
father's face, the embrace of her sister and even her mother, destroyed, happy in her miserable child,
chose the sweet love of Theseus over all these
...

Often they say her, with burning rage in her heart, to have poured out clear-sounding voices from
her deepest heart, and then, sad, to have climbed the rugged mountains, from where she would
extend her sight to the vast tossing of the ocean, then to have run into the incoming waves of the
quivering sea, raising soft coverings from bare calves, and, sad, to have said her final complaints,
chilly sobbing moving her tear-stained face
...

From now on, let no woman believe a man swearing, let no woman hope a man's speeches to be

true
...

Certainly, I snatched you out from the middle of the turning whirlpool of death, and resolved rather
to lose my brother than to be lacking for you at the critical time, deceitful one
...

What lioness birthed you beneath a lonely cliff, what sea having conceived you, threw you out from
foamy waves, what Syrtis, what grasping Scylla, what vast Charybdis, you who return such gifts for
sweet life?
If our wedding was not for your heart (ie to your liking), because you were frightened by the savage
precepts of a strict father, however you could have led me to your palace, I would have been used as
a slave girl for you with pleasant work, stroking your white feet with clear waters, or spreading your
couch with purple cover
...
Thus savage fortune, too much abusing in my last hour, even grudges ears for
my complaints
...

Or shall I hope for my father's help? Whom I myself left behind, having followed a young man
sprinkled with my brother's blood?
Shall I console myself with the faithful love of my husband? Who flees, bending flexible oars in the
whirlpool?
Moreover, the lonely island is cultivated with no shelter, nor does an escape lie open with the waves
surrounding
...

However, my eyes will not grow faint with death, nor will sense leave my tired body, before I,
betrayed, demand much justice from the gods, and pray the faith of those in heaven in my last hour
...

Which since they are born true from my deepest heart, do not wish to suffer my grief to disappear,
but just as Theseus left me alone with his mind, with such a mind, goddesses, may he disgrace
himself and his own
...

But Theseus himself, blind with fog sown in his mind, sent out everything from his forgetful heart,
which orders he was holding with constant mind before, and not raising the sweet signal to his sad
parent did not show himself to see the Erecthean port, safe
...

Then I will hang dyed sails from the wandering mast, as linen darkened with Hiberian rust befits my
grief and burning mind
...

That as soon as your eyes see our hills, let the yardarms put down the funereal cloth on all sides,
and let the twisted ropes raise white sails, so that seeing them first I may recognise joy with a happy
heart, when a fortunate age will place you, having been brought back
...

But his father, as he was seeking a lookout from the highest point of the citadel, wasting away his
anxious eyes in constant weeping, when he first caught sight of the canvas with filled sail, threw
himself headlong from the top of the crags, believing Theseus lost to pitiless fate
...

She then, looking out, sad, at the elaving ship, was turning many cares with her wounded soul
...

Then eager bacchants were raving in every direction with frantic mind, crying euhoe, crying euhoe
shaking their heads
...

Others were beating drums with upraised palms, or stirring ringing with delicate rounded bronze
...

The cloth, decorated splendidly such images, embracing the wedding couch, was covering it like a
garment
...

Just like in the morning the West Wind , ruffling the calm sea with blowing, stirs up sloping waves,
which, with Aurora rising beneath the threshold of the wandering sun, proceed, first slowly driven
by a gentle breeze, and sound lightly with the striking of laughter, later, with the wind growing, they
grow more and more, and reflect from purple light, floating far off
...

After their departure, Chiron came first from the top of Pelion, carrying woodland gifts: for

whatever flowers the plains bear, which the region of Thessaly creates on great mountains, which
the fertile breezes of Favonius flowers near the waves of rivers, these he brought himself, woven in
mixed garlands, by which pleasant odour the house, sweetened, smiled
...

These he placed widely woven around the palace, so that the porch was green, covered with soft
leaves
...

Then the father of the gods arrived from heaven with his holy wife and children, leaving behind you
alone Phoebus, and your sister together with you, the cultivator of the mountains of Idrus: for your
sister spurned Peleus equally with you, and did not wish to celebrate the nuptual torches of Thetis
...

A garment, white on all sides, embracing their trembling body, circled their ankles with a purple
border, but rosy headbands were resting on their snowy heads, and solemnly their hands were
plucking the eternal work
...

Then beating these fleeces with clear-sounding voice they poured out such fates with divine song,
song which will prove unfaithful after no ages
...

Now Hesperus will arrive for you, bearing things longed for by husbands, your wife will come with
favourable star, who will pour heart-bending love on your mind, and will prepare to join with you in
languid sleep, spreading her light arms beneath your strong neck
...

No home ever contained such loves, no love joined lovers with such a bond, as the union which is
here for Thetis, which is here for Peleus
...

Achilles will be born to you, unaware of fear, known to his enemies not by his back, but by his
brave chest, who very often the victor in the race with wandering struggle outstrips the flaming
footsteps of the swift deer
...

Not any hero will compare to him in war, when Phrygian lands will flow with Trojan blood, and
with the long war remaining, the third heir of oath-breaking Pelops will lay waste the Trojan walls
...


The outstanding virtues of him, and famous deeds, mothers will often confess at the funerals of their
sons, when they untie their unkempt hair from their white heads, and beat their bruised breasts with
infirm palms
...

For, like the reaper, gathering the dense ears of corn prematurely, harvests the golden yellow fields
beneath the burning sun, he will cast down the bodies of the sons of Troy with hostile iron
...

The waves of the Scamander will be witness to his great virtues, which is poured everywhere into
the rapid Hellespont, whose way, making it narrow with slaughtered heaps of bodies, he will make
warm its deep rivers with mixed slaughter
...

Finally, the prize given back in death will also be witness, when the rounded funeral pyre, heaped
up in a lofty heap will receive the snowy limbs of the pierced maiden
...

For as soon as fortune will grant power to the tired Argives to loose Neptune's chains from the
Dardanian city, the high tomb will be wet with the slaughter of Polyxena, who, like a sacrificial
victim, succumbing to the two-edged iron, will let her mangled body fall with lowered knee
...

Therefore, come, unite chosen loves of the soul
...

Run, spindles, leading the woof-threads, run
...

Run, spindles, leading the woof-threads, run
...

For the deities were accustomed, with piety not yet spurned, to visit the pure homes of heroes in
former days, being present, and to show themselves to a mortal throng
...

Often Liber, wandering the highest peak of Parnasus, drove the bacchants with flowing hair crying
euoe, when rushing zealously from the whole city, the received the god, happy, with smoking altars
...

But after the earth was stained with unmentionable crime and all chased away justice from their
greedy mind, brother sprinkled their hands with brothers' blood, and son ceased to mourn dead
parents, and father desired the death of youthful son, so that he might freely obtain the flower of an
unmarried stepmother, and impious mother stretching herself beneath unknowing son, impious, did
not fear to pollute the household gods
...

Therefore they do not deign to visit such company, nor suffer themselves to be touched by clear
light

---