Book 4, lines 879-967

[Previous: lines 844-878]

John narrates a sermon Jesus delivered from a boat on the Sea of Galilee to a crowd on the shore.

“Namque docebat humi fœdè in tenebrisque volutas
ad cœlum mortale genus sustollere mentes,                    [880]
et lucem aspicere, et vanis desuescere curis.
Tum pacem hortari: ‘Placidam super omnia mites
pacem optate, viri, tumidosque remittite flatus;
demissique animis, nil vanae laudis egentes,
mortales contemnite opes, contemnite honores;              [885]
et duris vitam assueti, parvoque beati
pauperiem tolerate: brevis quaecunque voluptas
ista adeò, atque diu mihil est mortalibus aegris.
Vobis haud propriae hïc sedes; concessaque longùm
regna manent meliora : graves ubi solverit artus            [890]
mors anima, vos stelligera pater optimus aula
protinus excipiet laetos melioribus oris;
pax ubi tranquilla, et cunctarum opulentia rerum,
et secura quies, nunquam peritura voluptas.
et dubitet tanta quisquam mercede laborem                    [895]
ferre brevem, terrisque sequi me sponte relictis?
Ad veras emergere opes, emergere honores
tendite, quos nulli casus, nulla auferat aetas.
Este pii; inter vos mentem exercete benignam,
inque vicem placati animis miserescite vestrî.                [900]
Tum longè prohibete iras, odiisque ferendo
parcite, rumoresque vagos contemnite vulgi.
Nulli fas ideo accepto pro vulnere vulnus
reddere: praestiterit verò pulsantibus ultro
sese offerre, genisque ictum expectare secundum.          [905]
Vana alii certent armis pro laude, nocensque
ferrum acuant, pulchramque petant per vulnera mortem:
at tu mortales nullo discrimine amare
disce omnes, pacemque inglorius hostibus opta,
nec tibi ventosae sint tanti murmura famae.                    [910]
Omnibus in primis sit mens interrita leti;
nullaque vos animis duros vis avocet aequo.
Terrenos artus homines, moribundaque membra
interdum extinxisse queant et perdere ferro:
tuta anima ipsa manet, durae haud obnoxia morti.         [915]
Et vos omnipotens cœlo Pater aspicit alto,
avertitque malis; cuius sine numine vestrum
haud hominum quisquam valeat divellere crinem.
summissos vos hunc unum fas usque vereri;
huic ô rite preces, huic digna piacula ferte,                     [920]
cui mare, cui tellus, campisque patentibus aer
obsequitur, nitidique tremit plaga lucida cœli:
huic procumbite humi, prostrati huic pandite vota.
Vos siquidem aeternis, etiam post funera, pœnis
ipse potest sontes sub tetro urgere barathro.                    [925]
Nec timor admissos cuiquam sit adire leones,
seclaque pictarum saevissima pantherarum.
Ite, mei obiectu protecti nominis, ite
Adversùm intrepidi: mansuescent protinus ursi,
vestraque parcentes allambent vulnera linguâ.                [930]
Quin humiles victûs animis secludite curas:
observate genus pecudum, genus altivolantum;
nullae illis artes, nulla illis cura futuri:
non tamen aut tegimen, victûs aut copia defit.
Omnia dives alit rerum sator, omnia curat.                      [935]
Ille etiam iniusso tellurem gramine vestit,
floribus appingens sata versicoloribus arva;
arboribusque comas, atque umbras montibus addit.
Fraudes, insidiaeque absint, ac fœda libido;
neve modum supra mensis gaudete paratis;                     [940]
desidiasque animis atque otia pellite vestris;
nec vetitos thalamos, inconcessumque cubile
affectate; sitisque alieni desinat auri.
Quisque suis opibus contenti vivite, et ultrò
spes interdictas et inania ponite vota.                               [945]
Neve autem scelerum facies nunc persequar omnes:
quid dicam, quibus est cordi fraus, atque libido
dira iuvat, ficto simulant tamen ore latentes
virtutem, subeuntque dolis, et crimina obumbrant?
Ne, iubeo, ne talem animis assuescite pestem:                  [950]
nil adeô latet, ipsa dies quin detegat ultrò.
Praeterea cohibete oculos: ne quaerite vestris
vulnera sponte animis: fandi hinc compescite amorem;
saepè olim incautos non lingua coercita mersit.
Discite iamque ideo posthac haud falsa profari;               [955]
iamque novos purgati animis inducite mores.
Siqua tamen veteris culpae vestigia restant,
diluite, et sacris contagia vincite lymphis.
Ipse ego fons veluti liquidam purissimus undam.
Sufficiam: properate ad aquas, haurite liquentem,            [960]
matres atque viri sitientes, protinus amnem.
Ferte pedem huc omnes, nec opus potantibus auro,
argentove : mei fontis patet omnibus unda.
Sic leti vitate vias ; ita sidera aditur,
sidereasque domos, mutari nescia regna.                            [965]
Haec mihi praedixit Genitor, quae voce monerem
veridica: sunt fonte mihi verba omnia ab illo.’”

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"He taught us to reject this filthy world
and to lift human hearts heavenward;                          [880]
to look towards the light and leave vain cares.
Then he urged peace: ‘above all be gentle
choose the work of peace, men; put pride aside.
Humble your hearts. Abandon empty praise.
Despise equally mortal wealth and honours.                [885]
Accustom yourself to blessed hardships.
Accept poverty—for brief are the pleasures
of this world, and tired mortals hold nothing long.
They were never yours, these houses; instead
a better kingdom awaits when your body                    [890]
releases your soul in death, and the Father’s
glad starry halls receive you, a better place
where there is peace, calm, and an abundance
of safe rest, free from corrupting desire.
Who would refuse such wages, great reward              [895]
for little work, to leave earth and follow me?
Come into your true wealth, come to honours—
reach for that which time can never take away.
Be faithful and kind to one another;
with peaceful souls take pity on each other.                [900]
Stay far from rage, respond to provocation
with patience, and ignore the mob’s clamour.
It’s not right to return a wound for a wound:
rather you should offer yourself willingly
when struck on the cheek, invite the second blow.     [905]
Let others take us arms for futile glory
sharpening their sword and seeking glorious death.
You should aim to love without discrimination,
to live in peace and humble honesty
ignoring the allure of vacuous fame.                           [910]
Above all, look on death without misgiving.
Let no force sap your discipline for justice.
For though men's harshness may destroy the flesh,
and put your mortal body to the sword:
the soul, unharmed, is not touched by sharp death.     [915]
Heaven’s omnipotent Father looks on
and will save you from evil; without His consent
no man can harm even one hair on your head.
Submit yourself to God; fear only him;
direct all your prayers towards Him to whom              [920]
the sea, earth, fruitful fields and open air
obey; and the bright plains of heaven too.
So prostrate yourself before him and pray
knowing he can punish you after death, pains
inflicted on the guilty in Hell’s foul depths.                 [925]
Let no-one fear encountering hungry lions
or the savage breed of spotted panthers.
Go forth, protected by my name, go forth
fearlessly; bears will prove tame before you
and mercifully lick your lingering wounds.                 [930]
Don’t trouble your souls with life’s necessities.
Observe the schools of fish, the flocking birds;
not master no arts, took no care for the future:
yet they never lack shelter or abundant food.
The Creator feeds and cares for all things.                  [935]
He clothes the planet in grass unbidden,
bejewels fields with blooms of every hue.
He enleaves the trees and gives the mountains shade.

Shun fraud and treachery, and base libido;
and don’t take too much pleasure in fine food;            [940]
banish sloth and ease from your human hearts,
fight the forbidden lusts of the bedroom
and suppress all craving for others’ gold.
Let each live with their own resources, and
set aside forbidden hopes and vain wishes.                   [945]
I will not now catalogue all forms of sin;
but what shall I say of those, false of heart
and slaves to low desire, yet imitate virtue
and conceal their criminality through deceit?
Don’t allow such a plague to take your soul.               [950]
Nothing can hide; time brings all things to light.
Also, curb your gaze: don’t go looking for
things to wound your soul. Restrain your chatter;
often has an unchecked tongue brought trouble.
Train yourself never to speak any falsehood.               [955]
Having cleansed your soul, learn new manners.
And if any trace of your former sins return,
wash that pollution off with holy water.
Like the clear stream, mine is the pure fountain:
hurry to these waters; drink from its stream                [960]
all you women and men who are thirsty.
All can come! It is not purchased with gold
or silver, this water is for everyone.
That way you’ll evade death and reach the stars,
and the changeless houses of the starry heavens.         [965]
For so my Father taught me, that my voice
might pass on this truth from his source.’”

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‘Faithful’ in line 899 translates pius, a word I’ve had occasion to note before is really tricky to render into English.

For centuries the most revered name in the Western literary canon, Vergil, has interpreted the culture and polity to which European civilisation traces its origins. At the centre of this interpretation is pietas, an idea that long sustains the highest claims of value even as it is accommodated to conditions and assumptions widely divergent from those articulated in the Aeneid. This divergence is eventually reflected in the European vernaculars, creating a notoriously vexed problem for Vergil’s translators. In the preface to his 1697 Aeneis John Dryden calls attention to the difficulty of translation … [insisting] “the word in Latin is more full than it can possibly be exprest in any Modern Language.” Dryden then defines the Latin word in English: “Piety alone comprehends the whole Duty of Man towards the Gods; towards his Country; and towards his Relations.” [James D Garrison, Pietas from Vergil to Dryden (Wayne State University Press 1987), 1]

Garrison’s large book explores the complexifications of the term as it works its way through several European languages, tracing both the ways it worked, and the trajectory by which its high status in the 16th and 17th-centuries was followed by a falling away (by the 20th-C, Garrison argues, ‘the decline of the word in modern discourse has been decisive’; despite some attempts to revive it ‘it is no longer a “pivotal” or “key” term’ [20]). There’s an added layer in Vida, where Christian ideas of piety tangle in eddying ways with the older Vergilian original. But the Christiad is intensely Vergilian, all the way through. This is what I said about pietas earlier on this very blog:

Christ tells his disciples to be ‘pious’, pius, a Latin word with a notoriously tricky semantic field. It’s Vergil’s favoured epithet for Aeneas; the jangling almost-rhyme ‘pius Aeneas’ chimes all the way through the Aeneid. But although the English word ‘pious’ does derive from the Latin pius (just as ‘piety’ derives from the Latin pietās) these modern words mean rather different things. In today's usage ‘piety’ has an inescapable whiff of sanctimoniousness about it, a holier-than-thou stiffness. But for a Roman, pietas meant a particularly engaged kind of goodness: a duty to respect and uphold your nation, your family and your household gods. For them it described a certain relationship to one's parents (especially) but also to one’s children and other relatives, as to benefactors and friends: a mode of affection, love, loyalty, gratitude, and putting their needs before your own, a mode of gentleness, kindness, tenderness, pity, compassion. How to translate that into English with one word? Not easy. I’ve seen translations of the Aeneid that use “good Aeneas” (smacks, rather, of the patronising “good boy!” we bestow on a well-behaved dog I think) or “dutiful Aeneas” which is much too strenuous and Kantian. ‘Kosher Aeneas’ has a pleasant cultural-cross-current gnarliness (not inappropriate to Vida’s poem, actually) although it makes the Trojan hero sound a bit like a sausage. ‘Decent Aeneas’ is probably too bland, too passive; ‘good-bloke Aeneas’; ‘upright Aeneas’—perhaps we need to adopt a surfer-dude accent and call him ‘righteous Aeneas.’ I don’t know what the answer is to this translation conundrum, to be honest. It’s a different fight, for a different arena, but I’ve often thought we should battle to reclaim nice as a positive descriptor, to purge it of its weak-tea and mimsy overtones. Being nice is a profound and (yes) righteous business, much harder than it might seem (since it requires us to learn how to muzzle our nastiness, our anger and spite) and very potent as a means of cleansing and shining sunlight onto social interactions. Plus ‘nice Aeneas’ reproduces something of the near-rhyme of Vergil’s original.

Ay any rate, ‘pietas’, in the largest sense, is the whole point of this lengthy speech of Jesus’s, recalled by John for Pilate’s benefit. The various sentiments here are collected from various bits of the NT, but largely from the Sermon on the Mount. Why Vida decided to decant large portions of this, the most famous (arguably) part of Jesus mnistry prior to the crucifixion, and have him deliver it instead from a boat is not clear to me. There's something almost literally flattening in the reduction in height. Ah well: the Sermo in monte occupies chapters 5, 6 and 7 of Matthew's gospel. According to Matthew 4:23, Jesus prior to this sermon went preaching ‘all about Galilee’ and ‘great crowds followed him’. In Matthew 5:1-2, Jesus goes up into the mountain, is followed by his disciples, and begins to preach. It's all over by Matthew 8:1, which tells us that Jesus ‘came down from the mountain followed by great multitudes’. Has Vida relocated this to the sea of Galilee because so much of his speech, here, is to do with baptism, with water and the water of life? But Galilee is salty, and one does not baptise with brine. Perhaps his concern was more formal? Book 1 of the Christiad ended with an account of Jesus's trasfiguration on Mount Tabor; this, the end of Book 4, brings us back from a lengthy narrative detour, via lengthy embedded monologue accounts of Christ's birth and ministry to the grim truth of his incarceration and impending crucifixion. Perhaps Vida thought it looked wrong to match the early triumphant mountain scene with another. Bringing Jesus down to sea-level, as it were, was a way to cap-off his ministry, to sum-up his teachings, before diving into the depths of his torture and death. I don't know.

At the head of this post: a poster for the spaghetti western Don't Turn the Other Cheek! (1971; the movie's original, Italian title was Viva la muerte... tua!, directed by Duccio Tessari). For obvious reasons.

[Next: lines 968-980]