[Previous: lines 15-31]
Christ, having entered Jerusalem, gathers his disciples around him. They go to a grove where Peter tries to talk Christ out of his sacrifice.
Tum vero numero socios seiunxit ab omni
bis senos, sibi quos olim delegit, ut essent
tantorum memores operum, testesque laborum
atque ubi secretos nemora in seclusa vocavit, [35]
procerae innitens cedro, moestissisimus ore,
eque imo rumpens suspiria pectore fatur:
“Ventum ad supremum, socii; data tempora vitae
exegi in terris: lux nunc infanda propinquat
meque pii manes expectant: illius ergo [40]
en ultro infensam Solymorum ascendimus urbem.
Illic informis leti mihi dira parantur
supplicia: immeritum me nunc coniurat in unum
saeva sacerdotum manus; ut, non inscius ipse
praedixi toties ac vobis cuncta retexi. [45]
Ibo: morte mea veterum scelus omne piabo.
His me prime malis oneras pater; ipse tulisti
dulcia poma; mihi sed nunc tua furta luendum.
Cum tamen expulerit tenebras lux tertia rebus,
aereas caede abluta revocabor in auras. [50]
Vos etiam, quos non pertæsum denique nostri,
funera acerba manent; audete, et lucis amori
istius æternum vitae immortalis honorem
mecum omnes praeferte. Domus non haec data, non hae
sunt vobis propriæ sedes. Vos aetheris alti [55]
lucida templa vocant, stellis florentia regna,
pax ubi secura, ac requies optata laborum.
Hic domus, hic patria. Huc omnes contendite laeti
angustum per iter; vestras hic figite sedes.”
Dixerat: at socii defixi lumina mœstis [60]
hærebant animis, ac tristia multa putabant.
Tum senior, Petrus haud linguae, vocive pepercit,
et tali Divum affatus sermone precatur:
“Nate Deo, quæ tanta Deum te denique cœli
vis agit, ut libeat letum crudele pacisci [65]
pro quoquam, aut certis ultro te offerre periclis?
Quin age, te incolumi potius (potes omnia quando,
nec tibi nequicquam Pater est, qui sidera torquet)
perficias, quodcunque tibi nunc instat agendum,
non adeo exosus lucem ingratusque salutis. [70]
Hos animos, hanc confestim, precor, exue mentem.
Ipse tui miserere, tuum miserere, nec ultro
proiice nos, qui te, tendis quocunque, scquemur.”
Sic ille: increpuit dictis quem talibus heros:
“Non pudet, o nunquam sapiens, mortalia semper [75]
volvere, nube oculos pressum, cœlestium inanem?
Nec potis es vanis unquam desuescere curis?
Haecne tibi consulta mei suasere labores?
Non hoc consiliis, non hoc auctoribus istis
tempus eget; genitor iussis haud mollibus urget [80]
At vos o, rebus spretis mortalibus, omnes
ferte viri, et duros animo tolerate labores;
oblitique hominem, coelo altas tollite mentes,
et cum mortales linguas in iurgia solvent
vos contra, falsis onerantes nomina vestra [85]
criminibus, gaudete, ac firmo pectore ferte,
indignamque ignominiam contemnite læti.
Hinc fortunatos vos dicite; præmia quando
certa manent, oriturque ingens hinc gloria vestra.”
And now from amongst this number he picked outIt’s a little dull, this exchange, despite the rather attractively kitsch of the vision of heaven in lines 55-57. It does follow the gospel account [Matthew 16:21-8; Mark 8:31-9:1 and Luke 9:18-27] but in a rather padded, flabby way. There's nothing here that matches the vigour of Christ's rebuke to Peter, ‘get thee behind me, Satan’ (‘unwise man’ is weak beer by comparison, I'd say). Nor is there anything that corresponds to the promise of transcendent imminence recorded by the three evangelists: ‘Verily I say unto you, That there be some of them that stand here, which shall not taste of death, till they have seen the kingdom of God come with power.’ Perhaps it seemed, fifteen centuries after an assurance that the end times were just around the corner, not the thing to dwell on.
his twelve, the disciples he had already chosen
to witness his mission and testify to his works.
He took them to a secluded grove and spoke [35]
beneath a tall cedar tree, most sad his words,
sighs breaking from the very depths of his heart:
“This is the end, comrades; the time given to me
on earth is passing: an ineffable light approaches,
the spirits of the holy await me: now we go up [40]
to the hostile city of Jerusalem.
Here my hideous, shameful death is prepared
penalties I have not deserved. They conspire,
that cruel band of priests—it is no secret to me!
I've foretold it so often, revealed it all to you. [45]
I shall go: a death atoning all the old sins.
You weigh misery on me, first father! you who took
those sweet apples; I’m to expiate your crime.
When light expels earth's darkness at the third dawn,
my wounds washed clean, I'll return to heaven's bronze skies.[50]
And for you, who've never failed in togetherness,
sharp deaths await. Be brave! may the light of love’s
eternity, and the honour of immortal life
be the choice you all make. This is not your house,
this earth not your home. High heaven awaits you [55]
its glittering temple sings out, realms crowded with stars,
where all is settled peace and long-sought rest from toil.
There's your home, that is your country. Hurry, all of you:
go through that strait gate, seek out your haven.
He spoke: but the disciples cast their eyes down [60]
their heavy hearts weighing many sorrowful thoughts,
until the oldest, Peter, couldn't hold back speech
imploring his divine leader with these words:
“Son of God, a god yourself, what heavenly force
acts upon you that you choose such a cruel death [65]
for others' sake, freely embracing such ghastly danger?
why not, since you have power (the power behind all things—
son of a Father who revolves the mighty stars)
finish it, complete the task, without wasting your life,
as if hating the light, refusing all escape? [70]
Put such thoughts, I beg you—just this once—aside.
Take pity on your people, pity yourself, and do not
cast us away, we who follow you wherever you lead.”
He spoke: but in reply the hero rebuked him:
“Are you not ashamed, man unwise, that mortal life [75]
so dizzies you, your eyes clouded, blind to heaven?
Can’t you free yourself from such empty obsessions?
Have your really learned nothing from my teachings?
The time for such counsel, for this temptation,
is not now. My father’s command is no mere suggestion! [80]
Rather, I tell you all: despise the things of this world,
accept with courage the durance of your souls,
forget humankind, focus on following heaven,
And when the human tongue breaks in slanders
against you, fortify yourself against such false [85]
accusation, rejoice, and shore-up your spirits!
joyfully repudiate your undeserved disgrace!
This I tell you: you are the fortunate ones; such rewards
are waiting for you, such vast assurances of glory!”
Vida's Christ addresses his disciples as ‘socii’ [eg line 38] which Gardner quite properly translates as ‘friends’. I’m being a touch unreasonable by baulking at this, although the different gradations of friendship mattered a lot to the Romans, and a socius (‘associate, companion, comrade, ally, confederate’) was assuredly not the same thing as an amicus. I’m well aware that my translation gives his speech a vaguely Soviet feel, and although I tend to think that’s not entirely inappropriate you’re free to disregard it.
Line 50’s ‘aereas auras’ puzzled me: aereus is ‘bronze’, and aura means ‘air’ or ‘gentle breeze’ (auras is plural; breezes, airs). I suppose bronze is used to mean eternal, imperishable, and ‘aura’ can mean ‘the upper air, Heaven, on high’ (L&S gives as examples ‘assurgere in auras’ Vergil’s Georgics 3, 109 and Aeneid. 4, 176, fittingly enough), so the general sense is presumably that Christ will return to his imperishable heaven. The question is how to keep the airy vibe, and what to do with the bronze (coming immediately after a line about a new dawn, the colour is going to signify, don’t you think?). Of course, it’s possible I may just have misunderstood the Latin. It's not a very euphonious line, I'm afraid. My translation, I mean.
In line 74 Vida uses ‘hero’ to describe Christ; a standard strategy in classicising Christian verse, although one that strikes a slightly odd tone to modern ears. But there you go.
[Next: lines 90-99]
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