Pridie Nonae Aprilis | April 4th
Three times the sky turns on its eternal axis. Titan, the sun, three times harnesses and three times releases his horses.
Let’s keep going: a foreign flute made of curving horn will be played, and the Festival of the Trojan Mother will start. The Castrated Priests process and they beat hollow drums, their clashing copper cymbals make the air ring: the Mistress herself will be carried, sitting, on the weak necks of her attendants. They howl and scream as they march through the city streets.
The stage resounds, the games are calling you, go watch, Romans! Let the garrulous Forum be deserted by Mars Himself. It pleases the crowd to seek these pastimes, but the noise of the high-pitched air, that terrible sound from the curved reed flutes, terrifies me.
“Give to me, Goddess, those who I might consult.”
Venus considers her learnèd granddaughters, and commands them to address my questions: “Explain, you who are entrusted with remembering, Pupils of the Helicon, why the Great Goddess delights to hear such incessant noise.” And so, Erato and I return to that Venusian month, which has the name of Tender Love: “This fortune was given to Saturn: ‘Best of Tyrants, you will be driven from your Kingdom by your son.’ The fearful one devoured his own children, plunging them into his guts and holding them hostage. Rhea is always in mourning, so often pregnant yet never a mother. She curses her own fertility. Then Jupiter was born (antiquity is believed instead of a great eyewitness; stop changing the accepted truth.) The hidden rock in swaddling clothes settled in the gut of the Celestial: and so the father was ensnared in his fate.
“Immediately steep Mt. Ida echoed with ringing and noise, so that the baby might remain hidden, even when crying with his infant mouth. Part of his caretakers struck bronze shields with sticks, and the other part hit empty helmets: these caretakers and the Priests of Cybele do the same work. The baby escaped notice, and the imitations of the prior deed remain to this day: the attendants of the Goddess clash castanets and beat loud, leather drums, striking cymbals instead of helmets, drums instead of shields. The flute plays Trojan tunes, as they had been played long ago.” She finishes.
I begin: “Why do they depict her with the fierce species of lion, whose manes are unaccustomed to be yoked together?” I stop.
She starts: “It is believed that wildness is tamed through her; it seems true given the visual testimony of her own chariot.”
“But why is her head overloaded with a crown made of towers? Did she give towers to the first cities?”
Erato nods: “They come from her.”
I ask: “Where does the impulse to cut off their own cocks come from?”
When I am silent, the Muse begins to speak: “Long ago, there was a Trojan boy among the trees of the forest, remarkably beautiful. Attis was bound by a holy love to the Goddess Crowned with Towers. She wanted to keep him for Herself, so that he would protect Her temple, and so She said: ‘You must always want to remain a boy-virgin.’ He gives a guarantee in response to her command: ‘If I should lie, let Venus, who I failed, be my last lover.’
“He failed her, and lost himself in the nymph Sagaritis. It was what it was: for this reason the anger of the Goddess demanded punishment. The Mistress mowed down that Naiad in her tree-form and from those inflicted wounds, she died: the tree-form of the Naiad was doomed. Attis went crazy, and believing the ceiling of his rooms to be falling down, he fled, seeking the summit of Mt. Dindymon by running. Occasionally he would shout: ‘Raise the torches!’ and sometimes: ‘Stop the flogging!’ Frequently he swore that the local Goddess was present.
“He mangled his own body with sharp rocks, and he dragged his long hair in the filthy dirt, crying: ‘I deserve this! I surrender to my deserved punishment with my blood! Ah! Let these parts die, which so harmed me! Oh, let them die.’ He spoke to this point, then sliced off the burden of his dick, and suddenly, there was no sign left of a man.
“Their madness comes as an imitation, and so the emasculated attendants cut off their worthless cocks while tossing their hair.” With such a tale, and with the eloquent speech of a Heliconian Muse, she gave the reason for the madness I investigate.
“Might you instruct me, my Literary Guide, I beg you, on this, too: from where does the object of my questions come? Surely She has not always been in our City?”
“Mother always loved Mt. Dindymon, both Mt. Cybele and Mt. Ida, with Her source waters. She always loved Trojan strength: after Troy, Aeneas would have carried Her into Italian lands. The Goddess nearly followed on the boat carrying his Holy Things. But She had not yet felt the need to demand her Divine Will by Oracles to the Romans, and so She remained in Her original place.
“Then, when Rome was full of power and wealth, by now She had seen five centuries and lifted Her head over Her conquered world, the Priest inspected the fateful words of foreign Prophesy; such Oracles brought this news:
“‘Mother is away: I order you to seek Mother, Roman. When She arrives, She must be received by Holy Hands.’
“The Senators quibbled over the enigma of the obscure Prophesy; what Parent could be away? In what place must their seek Her? Apollo was consulted, and the God told them: ‘Go fetch Mother, She must be found on the summit of Mt. Ida.’
“Aristocrat-diplomats were sent. At that time, King Attalus held the scepter of Troy. He rejected the quest of the Italian men, but, let me rhapsodize about a miracle: the Earth shook with long rumbles and immediately after the Goddess spoke from Her sanctuary: ‘I myself want to be sought. Let there be no delay, send what I desire. Rome is a worthy place, to which the God of All might go.’
“The King quaked in fear at the noise.
“‘You all can proceed,’ he said. 'You will be part of us: Rome is brought back into Trojan ancestry.’
“Right away countless axes felled the pines, which Religious Aeneas had also used to flee. One thousand hands worked in tandem, and the hollow ship was painted with encaustic colors, holding the Mother of the Heavens. She was carried safely through the same waterways as Her son; She sailed near the vast swamp of Her foreign sister, and crossed both Troy’s greedy promontory and its stuck-out coast, both the little island and the one that held the former Kingdom of Eetion. They welcome the Cyclades, leaving Lesbos behind their back. What waves shatter in the Isle of Marble’s shallows! And She crosses the sea where Icarus drowned when he destroyed his gliding wings, and gave his name to the desolate water. Then, at the left is Crete, to the right the homelands of Pelops lift out of the waves, and She seeks Cythera, sacred to Venus. From here they reach the Sicilian Sea, where Brontes, Steropes, and Acmonides (Cyclopes) usually dip their iron, white hot from the forge. She traverses the African Sea, looking at the Sardinian Kingdom to her left; and finally they head for Italy, using the oars.
“She had reached Ostia, where the Tiber dissolves itself into the Sea and flows into the Open Ocean. Every Knight and influential Senator, alongside a dense crowd, came, looking at the mouth of the Tuscan River. As one, mothers, daughters, and brides processed, each cherished the Holy Hearth by keeping their chastity. The men tired their busy arms with tight rigging and ropes: with difficulty the foreign ship entered upstream waters. For a long time the ground had been parched, drought burning the grasses and herbs: the ship sat sinking into the muddy shallows.
“Everyone was present for the ordeal, working extra hard for their part, helping with strong hands and celebratory voices, just as the ferryboat stuck fast, sitting on an island in the middle of the river. The shocked men just stood there, afraid of the portent.
“Claudia Quinta, her family descended from the noble Claudian line (her beauty was not unequal to her nobility!), was indeed chaste, but was not believed. Unfair Rumor had hurt her, she was a defendant in a public trial of false accusation. She walked against the crowd to push forward, beautifully dressed and with diversely embellished hair, a speech ready at hand against the strict Senators. The knowledge of her innocence laughed at the well-known lie of Rumor; but we, the credulous crowd, are at fault.
“When she emerged from the procession of Chaste Mothers, she drank the pure water of the river with her hands, spilling it three times on her head, each time raising her palms to the sky (everyone that saw this thought she had lost her mind). On humble knees she fastened her gaze on the image of the Goddess and she spoke these words: ‘Kindly, Fertile Mother of the Gods, of Your suppliant, accept these prayers on a certain term: I am denied innocence. If You condemn me, I will admit to deserving it. May I, having been defeated, undergo punishment by death, by judge, by Goddess. But if there is no guilt, You will give confirmation, by Your actions, of my innocence. The Chaste Goddess will follow my Clean Hands!’ She said this, and with little effort dragged the rigging (a Miracle! But I vouch for it publicly.) The Goddess was moved, and followed Her leader, and showed Her approval by following. The Witness of Joy was hauled up and a shout was sent to the stars!
“They came to a bend in the river. Our forefathers say it was the Forecourt of the Tiber, where the river turns away to the left. Night was present: so they tied up the rigging to an oak stump and they gave food and easy sleep to their overworked bodies. Daylight was present: they loosened the rigging from the oak stump, however, before they did so, they set out an altar and burned incense. In front of this, they garlanded the stern of the ship and sacrificed a heifer without blemish, ignorant of work or sex.
“There is a place, where the slippery Almo flows into the Tiber, and the little stream destroys His name in the big river. There, a white-haired priest with a purple-red outfit bathed the Mistress and her Holy Items in the waters of the Almo. His attendants howled and screamed, and the frantic flute was blown, and emasculated hands struck bull-leather drums. Claudia, the most honored and famous, led the crowd, her face beaming. After such difficulty, at long last, her innocence was believed by the witnesses, by the Goddess; who Herself was seated on a wagon, as She was brought in through the Northern gate. Fresh flowers were strewn over the yoked cows that pulled Her. Nasica (a line of the Scipio clan) brought Her in, though the actual name of the founder of the temple did not stand the test of time. Now it is Augustus, before it was Metellus.”
Here Erato stopped, and a pause arose, so I asked the rest of my questions:
“Tell me,” I said. “Why might She seek wealth by small donations?”
“The people gathered their pennies, thanks to which Metellus was able to build Her Temples,” she replied. “The custom of devoting donations has continued ever since.”
“Why might everyone attend banquets, having exchanged letters and invitations,” I ask. “At this time more than others? Why might they frequent publicized feasts?”
“Because luckily the Priests changed Her home,” she said. “Guests chase the same luck by changing houses.”
I press on: “Why might the First Games start with the Megalesia in Our City?”
Since the Goddess in fact felt my question coming, she answered: “She gave birth to the Gods, they yield to Her, and Mother has been given the honor of the Beginning.”
“Why then do we call those who raze themselves Galli, when Gallic ground is so distant from Troy?”
“Between,” she said. “Verdant Mt. Cybele and the high Celaenan peaks flows a river from a frantic spring, by the name ‘Gallus’. Those who drink from there go insane. Stay far from here, you who are anxious about your sane mind: those who drink from there go insane.”
“He is not ashamed to devote,” I said. “A herbaceous salad for the Mistress of the month. Perhaps Her own reasons underlie this?”
“It is said the Ancients enjoyed undiluted milk and herbs voluntarily and on their own if the land was producing something,” she replied. “White cheese is combined with crushed herbs, so that the Ancient Goddess might recognize ancient foods.”
Ter sine perpetuo caelum versetur in axe,
ter iungat Titan terque resolvat equos,
protinus inflexo Berecyntia tibia cornu
flabit, et Idaeae festa parentis erunt.
ibunt semimares et inania tympana tundent,
aeraque tinnitus aere repulsa dabunt:
ipsa sedens molli comitum cervice feretur
urbis per medias exululata vias.
scaena sonat, ludi que vocant, spectate, Quirites,
et fora Marte suo litigiosa vacent,
quaerere multa libet, sed me sonus aeris acuti
terret et horrendo lotos adunca sono.
‘da, dea, quem sciter.’ doctas Cybeleia neptes
vidit et has curae iussit adesse meae.
‘pandite, mandati memores, Heliconis alumnae,
gaudeat assiduo cur dea Magna sono.’
sic ego, sic Erato (mensis Cythereius illi
cessit, quod teneri nomen amoris habet):
‘reddita Saturno sors haec erat, ‘optime regum,
a nato sceptris excutiere tuis.’
ille suam metuens, ut quaeque erat edita, prolem
devorat, immersam visceribusque tenet.
saepe Rhea questa est, totiens fecunda nec umquam
mater, et indoluit fertilitate sua.
Iuppiter ortus erat (pro magno teste vetustas
creditur; acceptam parce movere fidem):
veste latens saxum caelesti gutture sedit:
sic genitor fatis decipiendus erat.
ardua iamdudum resonat tinnitibus Ide,
tutus ut infanti vagiat ore puer.
pars clipeos rudibus, galeas pars tundit inanes:
hoc Curetes habent, hoc Corybantes opus.
res latuit, priscique manent imitamina facti;
aera deae comites raucaque terga movent,
cymbala pro galeis, pro scutis tympana pulsant;
tibia dat Phrygios, ut dedit ante, modos.’
desierat. coepi: ‘cur huic genus acre leonum
praebent insolitas ad iuga curva iubas?’
desieram. coepit: ‘feritas mollita per illam
creditur; id curru testificata suo est.’
‘at cur turrifera caput est onerata corona?
an primis turres urbibus illa dedit?’
annuit. ‘unde venit’ dixi ‘sua membra secandi
impetus?’ ut tacui, Pieris orsa loqui:
‘Phryx puer in silvis, facie spectabilis, Attis
turrigeram casto vinxit amore deam.
hunc sibi servari voluit, sua templa tueri,
et dixit ‘semper fac puer esse velis.’
ille fidem iussis dedit et ‘si mentiar,’ inquit
‘ultima, qua fallam, sit Venus illa mihi.’
fallit et in nympha Sagaritide desinit esse
quod fuit: hinc poenas exigit ira deae.
Naida volneribus succidit in arbore factis,
illa perit: fatum Naidos arbor erat.
hic furit et credens thalami procumbere tectum
effugit et cursu Dindyma summa petit
et modo ‘tolle faces!’‘remove’ modo ‘verbera!’ clamat;
saepe Palaestinas iurat adesse deas.
ille etiam saxo corpus laniavit acuto,
longaque in immundo pulvere tracta coma est,
voxque fuit ‘merui! meritas do sanguine poenas.
a! pereant partes, quae nocuere mihi!
a! pereant’ dicebat adhuc, onus inguinis aufert,
nullaque sunt subito signa relicta viri.
venit in exemplum furor hic, mollesque ministri
caedunt iactatis vilia membra comis.’
talibus Aoniae facunda voce Camenae
reddita quaesiti causa furoris erat.
‘hoc quoque, dux operis, moneas, precor, unde petita
venerit, an nostra semper in urbe fuit?’
‘Dindymon et Cybelen et amoenam fontibus Iden
semper et Iliacas Mater amavit opes:
cum Troiam Aeneas Italos portaret in agros,
est dea sacriferas paene secuta rates,
sed nondum fatis Latio sua numina posci
senserat, adsuetis substiteratque locis.
post, ut Roma potens opibus iam saecula quinque
vidit et edomito sustulit orbe caput,
carminis Euboici fatalia verba sacerdos
inspicit; inspectum tale fuisse ferunt:
‘mater abest: matrem iubeo, Romane, requiras.
cum veniet, casta est accipienda manu.
‘obscurae sortis patres ambagibus errant,
quaeve parens absit, quove petenda loco.
consulitur Paean,’ divum ‘que arcessite Matrem,’
inquit ‘in Idaeo est invenienda iugo.’
mittuntur proceres. Phrygiae tunc sceptra tenebat
Attalus: Ausoniis rem negat ille viris,
mira canam, longo tremuit cum murmure tellus,
et sic est adytis diva locuta suis:
ipsa peti volui, nec sit mora, mitte volentem.
dignus Roma locus, quo deus omnis eat.’
ille soni terrore pavens ‘proficiscere,’ dixit
‘nostra eris: in Phrygios Roma refertur avos.’
protinus innumerae caedunt pineta secures
illa, quibus fugiens Phryx pius usus erat:
mille manus coeunt, et picta coloribus ustis
caelestum Matrem concava puppis habet,
illa sui per aquas fertur tutissima nati
longaque Phrixeae stagna sororis adit
Rhoeteumque rapax Sigeaque litora transit
et Tenedum et veteres Eetionis opes.
Cyclades excipiunt, Lesbo post terga relicta,
quaeque Carysteis frangitur unda vadis.
transit et Icarium, lapsas ubi perdidit alas
Icarus et vastae nomina fecit aquae.
tum laeva Creten, dextra Pelopeidas undas
deserit et Veneris sacra Cythera petit,
hinc mare Trinacrium, candens ubi tinguere ferrum
Brontes et Steropes Acmonidesque solent,
aequoraque Afra legit Sardoaque regna sinistris
respicit a remis Ausoniamque tenet.
Ostia contigerat, qua se Tiberinus in altum
dividit et campo liberiore natat:
omnis eques mixtaque gravis cum plebe senatus
obvius ad Tusci fluminis ora venit.
procedunt pariter matres nataeque nurusque
quaeque colunt sanctos virginitate focos,
sedula fune viri contento brachia lassant:
vix subit adversas hospita navis aquas,
sicca diu fuerat tellus, sitis usserat herbas:
sedit limoso pressa carina vado.
quisquis adest operi, plus quam pro parte laborat,
adiuvat et fortis voce sonante manus,
illa velut medio stabilis sedet insula ponto:
attoniti monstro stantque paventque viri.
Claudia Quinta genus Clauso referebat ab alto,
nec facies impar nobilitate fuit:
casta quidem, sed non et credita: rumor iniquus
laeserat, et falsi criminis acta rea est;
cultus et ornatis varie prodisse capillis
obfuit, ad rigidos promptaque lingua senes,
conscia mens recti famae mendacia risit,
sed nos in vitium credula turba sumus,
haec ubi castarum processit ab agmine matrum
et manibus puram fluminis hausit aquam,
ter caput inrorat, ter tollit in aethera palmas (
quicumque aspiciunt, mente carere putant)
summissoque genu voltus in imagine divae
figit et hos edit crine iacente sonos:
‘supplicis, alma, tuae, genetrix fecunda deorum,
accipe sub certa condicione preces.
casta negor. si tu damnas, meruisse fatebor;
morte luam poenas iudice victa dea.
sed si crimen abest, tu nostrae pignora vitae
re dabis et castas casta sequere manus.’
dixit et exiguo funem conamine traxit (
mira, sed et scaena testificata loquar):
mota dea est sequiturque ducem laudatque sequendo:
index laetitiae fertur ad astra sonus,
fluminis ad flexum veniunt (Tiberina priores
atria dixerunt), unde sinister abit.
nox aderat: querno religant in stipite funem
dantque levi somno corpora functa cibo.
lux aderat: querno solvunt a stipite funem;
ante tamen posito tura dedere foco,
ante coronarunt puppem et sine labe iuvencam
mactarunt operum coniugiique rudem,
est locus, in Tiberim qua lubricus influit Almo
et nomen magno perdit in amne minor:
illic purpurea canus cum veste sacerdos
Almonis dominam sacraque lavit aquis,
exululant comites, furiosaque tibia flatur,
et feriunt molles taurea terga manus.
Claudia praecedit laeto celeberrima voltu,
credita vix tandem teste pudica dea;
ipsa sedens plaustro porta est invecta Capena:
sparguntur iunctae flore recente boves.
Nasica accepit, templi non perstitit auctor:
Augustus nunc est, ante Metellus erat.’
substitit hic Erato, mora fit; sic cetera quaero:
‘dic,’ inquam ‘parva cur stipe quaerat opes.’
‘contulit aes populus, de quo delubra Metellus
fecit,’ ait ‘dandae mos stipis inde manet.’
cur vicibus factis ineant convivia, quaero,
tunc magis, indictas concelebrentque dapes
‘quod bene mutant sedem Berecyntia,’ dixit
‘captant mutatis sedibus omen idem.’
institeram, quare primi Megalesia ludi
urbe forent nostra, cum dea (sensit enim)
‘illa deos’ inquit ‘peperit, cessere parenti,
principiumque dati Mater honoris habet.’
‘cur igitur Gallos, qui se excidere, vocamus,
cum tanto a Phrygia Gallica distet humus?’
‘inter’ ait ‘viridem Cybelen altasque Celaenas
amnis it insana, nomine Gallus, aqua.
qui bibit inde furit: procul hinc discedite, quis est
cura bonae mentis: qui bibit inde, furit.’,
‘non pudet herbosum’ dixi ‘posuisse moretum
in dominae mensis, an sua causa subest?’
‘lacte mero veteres usi narrantur et herbis,
sponte sua si quas terra ferebat’ ait.
‘candidus elisae miscetur caseus herbae,
cognoscat priscos ut dea prisca cibos.’
P. Ovidius Naso, “Fastorum Libri Sex,” Lib. IV 179-373
