Ovid, Tristia

LCL 151: 168-169

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Ovid

“hic, qui Sidonio fulget sublimis in ostro, dux fuerat belli, proximus ille duci. hic, qui nunc in humo lumen miserabile fixit, 30non isto vultu, cum tulit arma, fuit. ille ferox et adhuc oculis hostilibus ardens hortator pugnae consiliumque fuit. perfidus hic nostros inclusit fraude locorum, squalida promissis qui tegit ora comis. 35illo, qui sequitur, dicunt mactata ministro saepe recusanti corpora capta deo. hic lacus, hi montes, haec tot castella, tot amnes plena ferae caedis, plena cruoris erant. Drusus in his meruit quondam cognomina terris, 40quae bene1 progenies, digna parente, tulit.2 cornibus hic fractis viridi male tectus ab ulva decolor ipse suo sanguine Rhenus erat. crinibus en etiam fertur Germania passis, et ducis invicti sub pede maesta sedet, 45collaque Romanae praebens animosa securi vincula fert illa, qua tulit arma, manu.” hos super in curru, Caesar, victore veheris purpureus populi rite per ora tui, quaque ibis, manibus circumplaudere tuorum, 50undique iactato flore tegente vias. tempora Phoebea lauro cingetur “io” que miles “io” magna voce “triumphe” canet. ipse sono plausuque simul fremituque calentes3 quadriiugos cernes saepe resistere equos. 55inde petes arcem et delubra faventia votis, et dabitur merito laurea vota Iovi.

  • 1bona corr. Heinsius
  • 2fuit corr. Faber
  • 3canentum
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Tristia, IV.II

27 “This one who gleams aloft in Sidonian purple, was the leader in war, that other his next in command. This who now has fixed his sad gaze upon the ground, had not such countenance when he bore arms. That fierce fellow with hostile eyes still ablaze was at once the instigator and planner of the fight. This traitor here trapped our men in a treacherous place—the one who now conceals his unkempt face with his long hair. That one following him they say was the priest who sacrificed captives to a god who often refused them. This lake, these mountains, these many forts,1 all the rivers were filled with wild slaughter, filled with gore. Drusus once earned in this land a surname, which his son,2 one worthy of his father, justly adopted. This thing with broken horns and sorry covering of green sedge was the Rhine himself, discoloured with his own blood. See! even Germany is borne along with streaming locks, seated in grief at the feet of the unconquered leader. Offering her proud neck to the Roman axe she wears chains on that hand in which she carried arms.”

47 High above them in the car of victory, thou wilt ride, O Caesar, clad in purple before the faces of thy people as old rite bids. Throughout thy course thou wilt be applauded by the hands of thy subjects, from all sides flowers will fall and cover thy path. With their temples all garlanded in the laurel of Phoebus the soldiers will chant “io, io triumphe”3 in loud voices. Thou wilt thyself often see the four steeds rear in confusion at the song, the applause, and the din all at once. Then thou wilt seek the citadel and shrines that favour prayers and thou wilt give the votive laurel to deserving Jupiter.

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DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.ovid-tristia.1924