[Previous: lines 919-968]
Joseph narrates. Jesus has now grown into an adult man. Now read on!
“Prima mali fuit hinc nobis scintilla; puerque------------
ex illo formidata primoribus urbis [970]
virtute invisus fuit, et corda aspera movit;
atque hoc deinde ingens succensa est fomite flamma,
inque dies gliscens furor atque insania crevit:
omnia quæ porrò ipse videns, metuensque futuri,
orabam impavidum ne, vitæ prodigus, hosti [975]
obiiceret, ne se perdendum proderet ultro.
Verùm luce priùs lateant in montibus arces,
aut nocte in summis celetur turribus ignis,
obruta quàm longùm jaceat sine nomine virtus.
Non tamen ille odiis magis ussit pectora acerbis, [980]
quam cùm ter denis iam vir volventibus annis
fontis aquam latices Bacchi convertit in atros.
Forte Canam mecum Galilææ advenerat urbem,
mater et ipsa aderat; veteri dum accitus amico
obsequor, intactam genero qui jungere natam, [985]
conventu procerum magno, de more parabat.
Iamque omnes circumpositis discumbere mensis,
atque alacres epulari, et vina reposcere læti.
Necdum finis erat dapibus, cum murmur ubique
exoritur, totasque auditur triste per ædes, [990]
lætitiæ causam exhaustis liquentia vina
defecisse cadis, turbarique omnia visa.
Tum res alma parens tenues miserata puellæ
innuit, et natum summissa voce precata est,
ferret opem: vidi hic iuvenem primum ore moveri [995]
turbatum; caræ precibus tamen inde parentis
innuit, et fesso rerum succurrit amico.
Sex, ut erant ibi tot numero, carchesia lymphis
impleri iubet actutum, mensisque reponi:
quæ simul aspexit propiùs Deus, omnibus, ecce! [1000]
Mutatus subitò nigrescere cernitur humor;
vinaque pro pura mirantes hausimus unda.
“Audisti, dux, et genus, et cunabula nati,
primitiasque Dei: ne cætera deinde requiras,
hanc omnem erexit factis florentibus oram. [1005]
Quæ si audire tamen tibi nunc fert corde voluptas,
is longè memoret melior, (simul ore sedentem
Signat Ioannem ) vidit namque omnia præsens,
errabunda ducis semper vestigia servans,
dum mihi cura domi servandæ virginis hæret.” [1010]
Dixit; et hìc facto defessus fine quievit.
“Immo,” ait, “istius causas ab origine partus
exequere, aut quæ relligio: si vera per oram
percepi, Iudæa Deum non ampliùs unum
aeternum colit, haud mortali semine cretum, [1015]
indigetesque suis divos altaribus arcet.
Inde tibi noti recolens ex ordine divi
Cætera mira refer: namque hunc in corpore vires
deficiunt; teque auxilio iubet ipse subire.”
Pontius hæc: cuncti intenti simul ora tenebant.” [1020]
“This, though, was the first spark of our woes. The boy------------
became hated by many leading citizens [970]
because of his virtue—men with hardened hearts.
And from that kindling a great fire soon flared,
their rage and insanity growing by the day.
Having foreseen all this, and alarmed for his
future, I begged him—though he was fearless—not [975]
to take risks, or expose himself to enemies.
For truly a tower on a mountaintop,
or a fire blazing from a citadel at night,
would be easier to hide than his virtue.
Nothing inspired greater hatred in those hard hearts [980]
than when he, a man now of thirty, changed
water from the well into draughts of dark wine.
It happened at Cana in Galilee, where
he’d gone with his mother and me to see
one of our friends—he was marrying his daughter [985]
to a young man, before the city notables.
All took their places, reclining at the tables,
eager to eat and drink what was laid out.
But the feast was not done when a general murmur
ran in sadness throughout the house: all the wine, [990]
that source of gladness, had been drunk, and
the casks were empty—confusion everywhere!
Mary took pity on the poor girl’s sorrow,
her straitened circumstances, and asked her son,
to help: I saw that the youth was first [995]
unnerved; but soon enough he obeyed her
entreaty, and succoured her anxious friend.
Six casks of clear water were called for, and placed
on the tables to replace the empty ones.
The son of god approached and—amazing! [1000]
the water was suddenly changed, darkened,
and so we all, astonished, drank wine for water.
“You have heard, sir, of the race and birth of
my divine son, and his early years: in brief,
he has roused this land with his flourishing deeds. [1005]
If you wish to know more about it, this man,
can explain better,” (he indicated the seated
John) “for he witnessed them all first hand,
followed his lead through all his travels
while I stayed home to look after the virgin.” [1010]
He finished speaking and wearily fell silent.
“Surely,” he replied, “tell me all of it, from
the start—describe your religion: for I’ve heard
Judea worships only one single god,
eternal, not born of mortal flesh, whilst [1015]
indigenous gods are kept from your altars.
Inde tibi noti recolens ex ordine divi
Tell me of these miracles: for the old man
if weary; and asks youth’s help to continue.”
So Pilate spoke: and all waited on the reply.” [1020]
The ‘he’ of line 1012 is Pilate, of course. Book 3, then, closes with the miracle of the marriage feast at Cana: another one of the Gospel episodes that’s widely known, if only because it’s always mentioned in sermons at church weddings (so that even people who don’t attend services regularly are likely to come across it). Vida’s treatment of it here feels a bit tacked-on: the rest of Book 3 is the conception, birth and boyhood of Jesus; now suddenly he’s 30 and performing adult miracles—since Book 4 is all about the adult miracles he performs, you wonder if Vida couldn’t have hived this passage off and put it in there instead. I suppose the point is: Book 3 is narrated by Joseph, who might be supposed to have witnessed this miracle. Book 4 is John’s, and arguably this miracle precedes him, since it happens before Jesus assembles his disciples—although in fact the NT account of the miracle is from John's gospel, and the way he phrases it strongly suggests that, by this stage, Joseph is dead, actually:
On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Now both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding. And when they ran out of wine, the mother of Jesus said to Him, “They have no wine.”At any rate, ending this chapter of the epic with this slightly anomalous narrative addition does, I suppose, give us something positive to finish on. It also spins the rubik’s colours of what we might think of the conventional narrative pattern: courtship, marriage, sex, pregnancy, child—here we have no courtship and no sex, then pregnancy—child—marriage. That's interesting I think.
Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does your concern have to do with Me? My hour has not yet come.”
His mother said to the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.”
Now there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of purification of the Jews, containing twenty or thirty gallons apiece. Jesus said to them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, “Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast.” And they took it. When the master of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom. And he said to him, “Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine, and when the guests have well drunk, then the inferior. You have kept the good wine until now!”
This beginning of signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and manifested His glory; and His disciples believed in Him.
After this He went down to Capernaum, He, His mother, His brothers, and His disciples; and they did not stay there many days. [John 2:1-12]
A couple of notes on the Latin. Line 987’s discumbere gives the feast a Roman vibe: discumbo means ‘I recline at table (to eat)’, as was the Roman way. Whole books have been written on this topic. Matthew Roller cites an incident mentioned in Suetonius:
As a young poet on the verge of producing his first play (the Andria, staged in 166 BC), Terence was instructed by the aediles to submit the work to the venerable playwright Caecilius Statius for approval. He duly called upon the great poet, by chance arriving at his house while he was dining. Terence was admitted but was made to sit on a bench “because he was poorly clothed,” while Caecilius himself reclined on a couch. But upon reading the opening verses Terence so impressed his hoat that he was invited to recline on a couch and share the meal, after which he read off the remainder of the play to Caecilius’s great admiration. [Matthew B. Roller, Dining Posture in Ancient Rome: Bodies, Values, and Status (Princeton University Press 2006), 1]Roller notes that dining postures ‘were differently marked for status … the reclining posture is correlated with higher status and privilege, and the seated posture with lower.’ How far we have fallen!
But if Vida’s diners are assuming the posture of wealthy Romans, they don’t have the cash to back up their façade, at least in terms of purchasing enough wine. In line 997 Mary’s wineless friend is fessus ‘tired, weary, weak, enfeebled’; I’ve gone with anxious. And the last line of the passage—the last line, indeed, of Book 3—is adapted from Aeneid 2:1: Conticuere omnes, intentique ora tenebant, ‘A general silence fell; and all gave ear.’
So: that's Book 3 finished. Next up, Book 4. Having finished it, I can't really say my opinion improved from this, slightly grumpy blog I posted at the halfway point of translating it. But, here we are. I now need to decide whether to dive straight into Book 4, or to give myself a bit of a rest.
The image at the head of this post is The Marriage at Cana by Maerten de Vos (c. 1596).
[Next: Book 4]
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