atque ibi semianimi verba exsecrantia linguā M.5.105
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edidit et medios animam exspiravit in ignes.
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I found a rather challenging line to scan (the first of the two lines above). I made an assumption I hope someone can confirm to be correct, namely that it would be necessary to treat the first ‘i’ in “semianimis” as a glide consonant as if it were spelled “semjanimis” because the dictionary has the middle 3 syllables all short which is impossible for dactylic hexameter. Right? And also there are two elisions. I think I scanned the line right, but I’m looking for confirmation.
Also is there any rule that governs what is the quantity of the syllable left over from an elision? Is it pretty much just what the poet needs there, metrically, or are there rules that govern that?
(The Metamorphoses truly is a fun read! “and there (on the altar) [the newly-severed head] emitted curse-words with its half-dead tongue and exhaled his spirit into the middle of the flames”.)
Hi Dave,
If you check the note on A&G 603.c, it talks about uniting two syllables by Synaeresis without contraction (if they were contracted the resulting syllable would be long) and gives parietibus as an example, where it’s pronounced paryetibus. I think the same is happening with semianimis in this line.
Rather than taking the -i- of semi- as a glide it may be best to take sem(i)animi as a case of internal elision, i.e. simply to elide sem(i) just as atqu(e) and anim(am) are elided.
The rule is that any elided vowel, even an elided long vowel, leaves no metrical residue. As far as the meter goes it disappears entirely. This is no doubt an artificial stylization—and Greek practice is different—but it is how elision works in classical Latin verse (and even in Latin prose to an extent).
You’ll have registered the artistic structuring of each verse, with the adjective and noun at caesura and verse-end respectively:
… semanimi | … lingua ||
… medios | … ignes ||
This is a characteristic patterning—and one that translation completely destroys.
(It’s also a reminder to aim for the caesura rather than painstakingly scanning foot by foot as you do.)
And yes, the Metamorphoses (unlike the Aeneid) are indeed a fun read! Good to turn to when downhearted, I find.
—And the tongue is not (already) half-dead, it’s (still) half-alive—just as my glass of beer is half full when I’ve only drunk half of it. (Cf. Cicero’s tongue!)
OK well, then there’s something else I need to understand: there’s a vowel “on either side” of the elision. Which one gets the axe? Are you implying it’s always the one “on the left”? If not, then how do you tell?
Aha! How to tell the pessimist-Latinist from the optimist-Latinist! Ask him how to translate “semianimis”!
No doubt there are some, but I can’t think any offhand. Anyway, I think you’re inventing a problem. The elided vowel is the vowel that ends the word, regardless of what precedes it.
PS. OK, here’s one from Catullus 64:
teque ade(o) eximie taedis felicibus aucte
Either I’m misunderstanding you in some respect, or vice versa. Particularly the phrases “no doubt there are some” and “regardless of what precedes it”.
So far my understanding of elisions was that each one was: “…xxxxxV1 (space, new word) V2yyyyy”…(m’s and h’s ignored when they should be, we understand that)…x’s and y’s non-participating parts of the two adjacent words. All I knew was that V1 and V2 blended or slurred together somehow and finally reached an agreement to output some hybrid sound constituting ONE syllable, I knew not what. From what you said earlier I understood that they fought it out and one was left, and the other vanquished without a trace. But which one vanished, that was what I didn’t know. Now I’m thinking the so-called V1 is the one which vanishes without a trace, and never(?) V2. Does that clarify what I meant?
If you thought I was concerned about xxxxx itself (before V1) ending in a vowel which would then become a concern, that’s not what I was thinking.
Yes you seem to be close to understanding now, Dave. To make it absolutely clear, V1 and V2 don’t fight it out, V2 instantaneously triumphs over V1 and kills it stone dead on the spot. There’s no blending or slurring, no mutual accommodation, no hybridizing, as far as the meter is concerned. V1 is simply obliterated, gone in a puff of smoke. V2 is all that remains, even if it’s short and V1 was long. There’s no indication that V1 left any trace at all. That may be hard to believe (and perhaps others have told you different), but it’s true. If you read over my posts, and/or read more verse, you should be able to understand more clearly.
Consider e.g. illa vicem curans toto ex te pectore, Theseu, toto animo, tota pendebat perdita mente. (70)
In your earlier post you were asking about elisions with a vowel either side. That should no longer be a concern, but in case it is, here’s more from Catullus 64, that wonderful groundbreaking poem that I thank you for leading me to read through once again:
eripu(i) et potius germanum amittere crevi
and
consilia in nostris requiesset sedibus hospes
and
cum intere(a) infirmo quatientes corpora motu
and
hero(um) et sese mortali ostendere coetu.
OK. It sounds like for a while you thought I was worried what would occur if, after deleting V1 in an elision, there remained another vowel BEFORE V1 in the same word, ending a syllable with that vowel. I think that’s why you quoted this line from Catullus:
Where “ade(o)” has such a “problem”. In fact, I was never considering that. But I am now! I presume this particular situation automatically introduces a hiatus? I guess I’ve scanned it right. It seems that we then get a hiatus between the “e” in “ade(o)” and the “e” beginning the next word “eximie”? Would that be correct?
