Martial 1.13

Latin Learning Latin
1

I borrowed this from the Latin Library, it is also on page 281 of Wheelock’s (6th Edition). I didn’t use the Wheelock’s edition because I wanted to see how I would do without any footnotes. I would like someone (or a few people) to look over my translation, please. It’s a very nice poem, both in rhythm and in meaning.

Martial 1.13
Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto,
quem de uisceribus strinxerat ipsa suis,
‘Si qua fides, uulnus quod feci non dolet,’ inquit,
‘sed tu quod facies, hoc mihi, Paete, dolet.’

When loyal Arria handed the sword to her own Paetus,
which she herself had drawn out of her own viscera,
“Believe me, the wound I have made does not hurt,” she said,
“but what you will do, this to me, Paetus, is painful.”

  • If you don’t know, it’s a poem about a wife who kills herself before handing the very same sword to her husband who has already decided to commit suicide after being exposed for the role he played in a conspiracy against Emperor Claudius. An exemplary display of the Roman ideas of feminine virtue.
2

Your translation is all right.

quod tu facies, hoc : here you can imply another vulnus : “the wound that you will make…”

3

He knew, it were right.

4

then why did he ask for people to look over it Episcopus :wink: ?

5

A question to which the answer is evident.

6

Episcopus: What? I may be a bit arrogant at times, but I am not ostentatious.

Thanks, Skylax.

7

we should thank the Atlantic Ocean which divides Episcopus and Benissimus otherwise I don’t know what would happen

8

Is it that obvious? :laughing:

Actually, I think we get along ok in a different setting… sometimes.

9

…

10

I chanced across this thread while searching for something else, and thought I’d resurrect it.

When I was working on Wheelock a number of years ago, some muse possessed me to compose a limerick. And then another. And then another. :blush:

I’ll post here one a day until I run out.


Chaste Arria gives her Paetus the gimlet,
Drawn fresh from her personal giblets,
“It’s just a scratch, see?
This wound don’t hurt me,
Like the one you must take, you big dimwit!”

tee

11

Chaste Arria – a picture so sorro’ful,
Slides the blade, dripping her offal,
To Paetus, her love,
“A mild wound I drove,
But the one you must strike will be awful.”


tee

12

Chaste Arria her abdomen cut,
Hands her Paetus the sword by the butt,
“My own wound is slight,
But I fear that I might,
When I witness your stab, spill my gut.”


tee

13

Chaste Arria, dissected, laid barren,
Passed the sword to Paetus, her dear 'un.
“Pain in store for me
From your hara-kiri
Shall o’er-shadow self-service Cesarean.”


tee

14

Higgledum Piggledum
Caecina Paetus
Plotted 'gainst Claudius;
Fell on his sword,
After loyal Arria’s
Self-drawn-and-quarterning
Supersensational
re’ssuring word.


tee
(Okay, that’s the end – We now return you to your regularly scheduled stodgy Latin)