Roman Civilization

CMS 206 /History 206

 In this poem, Ovid describes accompanying his new girlfriend to the Ludi in honor of the Magna Mater. While Ovid isn't a great fan of chariot racing, the lady is. The poem describes his efforts to impress her as they go to the games and get settled in their seats, and his jealousy over any and every other man in the crowd who looks at the girl. In the poem he sometimes addresses the girl, and in this section, the gods who parade into the Circus Maximus before the start of the races.

But now the procession is coming. Hush! and pay attention!

Now's the time for applause, the golden procession is coming.

The goddess Victory, her wings outstretched, is borne first in line,

Be here for me and see, goddess, that my love conquers!

Praise Neptune, you who trust too much in the ocean's waves!

(I have no time for the sea, my homeland holds me fast.)

And soldier, praise your Mars! (For myself, I hate weapons -

Peace, and the love discovered in days of peace, commands me).

May Phoebus be here for his augurs! May Phoebe be here for the hunters.

And Minerva, direct your bands of artificing hands towards your worship!

Farmers rise up for Ceres and gentle Bacchus!

Boxers please Pollux, and the horseman pleases Castor!

To you, sweet Venus, and your sons so mighty with their bows, I

give praise; O goddess, bless my latest love affair -

Give my new girl a kindly disposition. Let her consent to be loved by me!

(She nodded and by the gesture gave me a promising sign!)

Because the goddess promised, I beg you girl, promise me.

With Venus' permission I will say: You, darling, will be greater goddess.

I swear to you, by all these witnesses and by the procession of gods,

that you will be be the mistress worshipped by me forever!

But darling, your feet are dangling. Perhaps you'd like

to rest them on the fence here.

Now the circus is cleared for the best part of the show and the praetor

has sent the chariot teams to the starting line.

I see the one you want to win. Whomever you favor will conquer.

What you desire, the horses themselves seem to know.

Oh no! He's taken the corner wide!

What are you doing? The next chariot is crowding you.

What are you doing, you idiot? You're going to lose what my girl's prayed for!

PULL, please, pull left as hard as you can.

We are rooting for a bum. Come on Quirites, call for a restart.

Everyone, throw your togas in the ring to show them what you mean.

YES! They're calling them back! (Oh darling don't let the tussle ruin your hair -

you can curl up here in my lap).

And now the starting gates, reset, are open again - they're off!

The line of teams in different colors, horses given the rein, flies.

Now, at least, clear them and rush to the open space!

See that my, my girlfriend's prayers come true!

My girl's prayers have been fulfilled. But mine remain.

That man has the trophy. Mine must still be sought.

She grins and promises me I don't know what in her glimmering eyes.

Enough of this. Give the rest in another place.