April 25th | Fastorum Liber Quartus: Aprilis
C • ROB • NP | VII Kal. | IV.901-942, Ovid describes his own experience with the rites of the goddess Robigo.
Sex ubi, quae restant, luces Aprilis habebit,
in medio cursu tempora veris erunt,
et frustra pecudem quaeres Athamantidos Helles,
signaque dant imbres, exoriturque Canis.
hac mihi Nomento Romam cum luce redirem, 905
obstitit in media candida turba via.
flamen in antiquae lucum Robiginis ibat,
exta canis flammis, exta daturus ovis.
protinus accessi, ritus ne nescius essem:
edidit haec flamen verba, Quirine, tuus: 910
“aspera Robigo, parcas Cerialibus herbis,
et tremat in summa leve cacumen humo.
tu sata sideribus caeli nutrita secundi
crescere, dum fiant falcibus apta, sinas.
vis tua non levis est: quae tu frumenta notasti, 915
maestus in amissis illa colonus habet.
nec venti tantum Cereri nocuere nec imbres,
nec sic marmoreo pallet adusta gelu,
quantum, si culmos Titan incalfacit udos:
tunc locus est irae, diva timenda, tuae. 920
parce, precor, scabrasque manus a messibus aufer
neve noce cultis: posse nocere sat est.
nec teneras segetes, sed durum amplectere ferrum,
quodque potest alios perdere, perde prior.
utilius gladios et tela nocentia carpes: 925
nil opus est illis, otia mundus agit.
sarcula nunc durusque bidens et vomer aduncus,
ruris opes, niteant; inquinet arma situs,
conatusque aliquis vagina ducere ferrum
adstrictum longa sentiat esse mora. 930
at tu ne viola Cererem, semperque colonus
absenti possit solvere vota tibi.”
dixerat: a dextra villis mantele solutis
cumque meri patera turis acerra fuit.
tura focis vinumque dedit fibrasque bidentis 935
turpiaque obscenae (vidimus) exta canis.
tum mihi “cur detur sacris nova victima, quaeris?”
(quaesieram) “causam percipe” flamen ait.
“est Canis, Icarium dicunt, quo sidere moto
tosta sitit tellus, praecipiturque seges. 940
pro cane sidereo canis hic imponitur arae,
et, quare fiat, nil nisi nomen habet.”
901 When April shall have six days left, the season of spring will be in mid course, and in vain will you look for the ram of Helle, daughter of Athamas1; he rains will be your sign, and the constellation of the Dog will rise.2
905 On that day, as I was returning from Nomentum to Rome, a white-robed crowd blocked the middle of the road. A flamen was on his way to the grove of ancient Mildew (Robigo),3 to throw the entrails of a dog and the entrails of a sheep into the flames. Straightway I went up to him to inform myself of the rite. Thy flamen, O Quirinus, pronounced these words: “Thou scaly Mildew, spare the sprouting corn, and let the smooth top quiver on the surface of the ground. O let the crops, nursed by the stars of a propitious sky, grow till they are ripe for the sickle. No feeble power is thine: the corn on which thou hast set thy mark, the sad husbandman gives up for lost. Nor winds, nor showers, nor glistening frost, that nips the sallow corn, harm it so much as when the sun warms the wet stalks; then, dread goddess, is the hour to wreak thy wrath. O spare, I pray, and take thy scabby hands from off the harvest! Harm not the tilth; ’tis enough that thou hast the power to harm. Grip not the tender crops, but rather grip the hard iron. Forestall the destroyer. Better that thou shouldst gnaw at swords and baneful weapons. There is no need of them: the world is at peace. Now let the rustic gear, the rakes, and the hard hoe, and the curved share be burnished bright; but let rust defile the arms, and when one essays to draw the sword from the scabbard, let him feel it stick from long disuse. But do not thou profane the corn, and ever may the husbandman be able to pay his vows to thee in thine absence.” So he spoke. On his right hand hung a napkin with a loose nap, and he had a bowl of wine and a casket of incense. The incense, and wine, and sheep’s guts, and the foul entrails of a filthy dog, he put upon the hearth—we saw him do it. Then to me he said, “Thou askest why an unwonted victim4 is assigned to these rites?” Indeed, I had asked the question. “Learn the cause,” the flamen said. “There is a Dog (they call it the Icarian dog),5 and when that constellation rises the earth is parched and dry, and the crop ripens too soon. This dog is put on the altar instead of the starry dog, and the only reason why this happens is his name.”
M, the editor of Ovid Daily, has also written a translation of Liber IV.
Apparent setting was on March 20, true setting on April 5.
The Dog-star then rose in the morning of August 2, set in the evening of May 1; not in April.
The dog.
Supposed to be the dog Maera, which discovered the body of his master Icarius.