Odes 1.27

Horace the peacemaker

This dramatic monologue is a purely literary exercise: with the exception of the Falernian wine, the names and atmosphere are more Greek than Roman. The metre is Alcaics.

See the illustrated blog post here.

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Natis in usum laetitiae scyphis
pugnare Thracum est: tollite barbarum
morem verecundumque Bacchum
sanguineis prohibete rixis.

vino et lucernis Medus acinaces
immane quantum discrepat: inpium
lenite clamorem sodales
et cubito remanete presso.

voltis severi me quoque sumere
partem Falerni? dicat Opuntiae
frater Megillae, quo beatus
volnere, qua pereat sagitta.

cessat voluntas? non alia bibam
mercede. quae te cumque domat Venus,
non erubescendis adurit
ignibus ingenuoque semper

amore peccas. quidquid habes, age,
depone tutis auribus. a miser,
quanta laborabas Charybdi,
digne puer meliore flamma.

quae saga, quis te solvere Thessalis
magus venenis, quis poterit deus?
vix inligatum te triformi
Pegasus expediet Chimaera.

To fight with cups that were made for gaiety is for the Thracians – stop these barbarous goings-on and keep bashful Bacchus away from bloodthirsty brawls! A Persian shortsword is colossally out of place with wine and lanterns: leave off your disrespectful racket, my friends, and keep your elbows on the couch. You want me, too, to drink some of this powerful Falernian, do you? Then let our friend here, Megilla from Opuntia’s brother, tell whose love-wound, whose arrow, he is dying happy from! I will not drink at any other price. Whatever love has mastered you, it doesn’t burn with shameful fires, you always stray with people of the proper sort. Here, whisper in my ear, it’s safe with me … oh, you poor boy, what a tremendous whirlpool you have been floundering in, a real Charybdis! You deserved a better object for your passion! Who, what witch or enchanter with Thessalian drugs, what god even, will free you? Pegasus himself will scarcely disentangle you from that three-formed Chimaera!

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