Laudator Temporis Acti

Summary of Horace, Odes 3.8, by R.G.M. Nisbet and Niall Rudd:

1–12. If you are surprised in spite of your learning that I am celebrating on Matrons’ Day, it is because I made a vow to Bacchus on my escape from the falling tree; today will uncork a jar laid down in the year of that event. 13–16 Drink, Maecenas, in honour of your friend’s deliverance, and away with all hubbub. 17–24. You can forget your worries about home affairs; our enemies have been defeated in Dacia and Parthia, Spain and Scythia. 25–8. Do not be over-anxious about the people of Rome, and enjoy the moment.

Horace, Odes 3.8 (tr. Niall Rudd):

What is a bachelor like myself doing on the first of March? What do the flowers mean, and the casket full of incense, and the charcoal laid on the altar of fresh-cut turf?

Are you, learned as you are in the discourses of both languages, wondering about this? Well, I vowed to the God of Freedom a delicious meal, including a white goat, on the occasion when I was almost sent to my grave by the blow of a tree.

As the year comes round, this festal day will remove the cork, with its seal of pitch, from a jar that was first taught to drink the smoke in Tullus’ consulship.

So quaff a hundred ladles, Maecenas, in honour of your friend’s escape, and keep the lamp burning until daylight. Away with all shouting and quarrelling.

Cast aside your worries for the capital and its citizens. The Dacian Cotiso’s army has fallen, our enemy, the Medes, are torn apart by a war that brings grief only to themselves.

The Cantabrian, our ancient foe from the coast of Spain, is our slave, tamed and in fetters at long last; now the Scythians have unstrung their bows and prepare to withdraw from their plains.

Don’t worry in case the people are in any trouble; you are a private citizen, so try not to be overanxious; gladly accept the gifts of the present hour, and let serious things go hang.

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Martiis caelebs quid agam kalendis,
quid velint flores et acerra turis
plena miraris positusque carbo in
    caespite vivo,

docte sermones utriusque linguae?        5
voveram dulcis epulas et album
Libero caprum prope funeratus
    arboris ictu.

hic dies anno redeunte festus
corticem adstrictum pice dimovebit        10
amphorae fumum bibere institutae
    consule Tullo.

sume, Maecenas, cyathos amici
sospitis centum et vigiles lucernas
perfer in lucem: procul omnis esto        15
    clamor et ira.

mitte civilis super urbe curas:
occidit Daci Cotisonis agmen,
Medus infestus sibi luctuosis
    dissidet armis,        20

servit Hispanae vetus hostis orae
Cantaber, sera domitus catena,
iam Scythae laxo meditantur arcu
    cedere campis.

neglegens, ne qua populus laboret,        25
parce privatus nimium cavere et
dona praesentis cape laetus horae,
    linque severa.

See Eduard Fraenkel, Horace (1957; rpt. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), pp. 222-223.