February 24th | Fastorum Liber Secundus: Februarius
G • REGIF • N | VI Kal. | II.685-856, Ovid describes the events that led to the expulsion of the final king of Rome.
Nunc mihi dicenda est regis fuga: traxit ab illa 685
sextus ab extremo nomina mense dies.
ultima Tarquinius Romanae gentis habebat
regna, vir iniustus, fortis ad arma tamen.
ceperat hic alias, alias everterat urbes,
et Gabios turpi fecerat arte suos. 690
namque trium minimus, proles manifesta Superbi,
in medios hostes nocte silente venit.
nudarant gladios: “occidite” dixit “inermem!
hoc cupiant fratres Tarquiniusque pater,
qui mea crudeli laceravit verbere terga.” 695
dicere ut hoc posset, verbera passus erat.
luna fuit: spectant iuvenem gladiosque recondunt
tergaque deducta veste notata vident.
flent quoque et, ut secum tueatur bella, precantur:
callidus ignaris adnuit ille viris. 700
iamque potens misso genitorem appellat amico,
perdendi Gabios quod sibi monstret iter.
hortus odoratis suberat cultissimus herbis
sectus humum rivo lene sonantis aquae:
illic Tarquinius mandata latentia nati 705
accipit et virga lilia summa metit.
nuntius ut rediit decussaque lilia dixit,
filius “agnosco iussa parentis” ait.
nec mora, principibus caesis ex urbe Gabina
traduntur ducibus moenia nuda suis. 710
ecce, nefas visu, mediis altaribus anguis
exit et exstinctis ignibus exta rapit.
consulitur Phoebus: sors est ita reddita: “matri
qui dederit princeps oscula, victor erit.”
oscula quisque suae matri properata tulerunt, 715
non intellecto credula turba deo.
Brutus erat stulti sapiens imitator, ut esset
tutus ab insidiis, dire Superbe, tuis;
ille iacens pronus matri dedit oscula Terrae,
creditus offenso procubuisse pede. 720
cingitur interea Romanis Ardea signis
et patitur longas obsidione moras.
dum vacat et metuunt hostes committere pugnam,
luditur in castris; otia miles agit.
Tarquinius iuvenis socios dapibusque meroque 725
accipit; ex illis rege creatus ait:
“dum nos sollicitos pigro tenet Ardea bello
nec sinit ad patrios arma referre deos,
ecquid in officio torus est socialis? et ecquid
coniugibus nostris mutua cura sumus?” 730
quisque suam laudat: studiis certamina crescunt,
et fervet multo linguaque corque mero.
surgit, cui dederat clarum Collatia nomen:
“non opus est verbis, credite rebus!” ait.
“nox superest: tollamur equis Urbemque petamus!” 735
dicta placent, frenis impediuntur equi,
pertulerant dominos. regalia protinus illi
tecta petunt: custos in fore nullus erat.
ecce nurus regis fusis per colla coronis
inveniunt posito pervigilare mero. 740
inde cito passu petitur Lucretia, cuius
ante torum calathi lanaque mollis erat.
lumen ad exiguum famulae data pensa trahebant,
inter quas tenui sic ait illa sono:
“mittenda est domino (nunc, nunc properate, puellae!) 745
quam primum nostra facta lacerna manu.
quid tamen auditis? nam plura audire potestis:
quantum de bello dicitur esse super?
postmodo victa cades: melioribus, Ardea, restas,
improba, quae nostros cogis abesse viros. 750
sint tantum reduces! sed enim temerarius ille
est meus et stricto qualibet ense ruit.
mens abit, et morior, quotiens pugnantis imago
me subit, et gelidum pectora frigus habet.”
desinit in lacrimas intentaque fila remittit, 755
in gremio voltum deposuitque suum.
hoc ipsum decuit: lacrimae decuere pudicam,
et facies animo dignaque parque fuit.
“pone metum, veni!” coniunx ait. illa revixit
deque viri collo dulce pependit onus. 760
interea iuvenis furiales regius ignes
concipit et caeco raptus amore furit.
forma placet niveusque color flavique capilli,
quique aderat nulla factus ab arte decor;
verba placent et vox, et quod corrumpere non est, 765
quoque minor spes est, hoc magis ille cupit.
iam dederat cantus lucis praenuntius ales,
cum referunt iuvenes in sua castra pedem.
carpitur adtonitos absentis imagine sensus
ille. recordanti plura magisque placent: 770
“sic sedit, sic culta fuit, sic stamina nevit,
iniectae collo sic iacuere comae,
hos habuit voltus, haec illi verba fuerunt,
hic color, haec facies, hic decor oris erat.”
ut solet a magno fluctus languescere flatu, 775
sed tamen a vento, qui fuit, unda tumet,
sic, quamvis aberat placitae praesentia formae,
quem dederat praesens forma, manebat amor.
ardet et iniusti stimulis agitatus amoris
comparat indigno vimque dolumque toro. 780
“exitus in dubio est: audebimus ultima!” dixit,
“viderit! audentes forsque deusque iuvat.
cepimus audendo Gabios quoque.” talia fatus
ense latus cinxit tergaque pressit equi.
accipit aerata iuvenem Collatia porta 785
condere iam voltus sole parante suos.
hostis ut hospes init penetralia Collatini:
comiter excipitur; sanguine iunctus erat.
quantum animis erroris inest! parat inscia rerum
infelix epulas hostibus illa suis. 790
functus erat dapibus: poscunt sua tempora somnum;
nox erat et tota lumina nulla domo:
surgit et aurata vagina liberat ensem
et venit in thalamos, nupta pudica, tuos.
utque torum pressit, “ferrum, Lucretia, mecum est” 795
natus ait regis, “Tarquiniusque loquor!”
illa nihil: neque enim vocem viresque loquendi
aut aliquid toto pectore mentis habet,
sed tremit, ut quondam stabulis deprensa relictis
parva sub infesto cum iacet agna lupo. 800
quid faciat? pugnet? vincetur femina pugnans.
clamet? at in dextra, qui vetet, ensis erat.
effugiat? positis urgentur pectora palmis,
tunc primum externa pectora tacta manu.
instat amans hostis precibus pretioque minisque: 805
nec prece nec pretio nec movet ille minis.
“nil agis: eripiam” dixit “per crimina vitam:
falsus adulterii testis adulter ero:
interimam famulum, cum quo deprensa fereris.”
succubuit famae victa puella metu. 810
quid, victor, gaudes? haec te victoria perdet.
heu quanto regnis nox stetit una tuis!
iamque erat orta dies: passis sedet illa capillis,
ut solet ad nati mater itura rogum,
grandaevumque patrem fido cum coniuge castris 815
evocat, et posita venit uterque mora.
utque vident habitum, quae luctus causa, requirunt,
cui paret exsequias, quove sit icta malo?
illa diu reticet pudibundaque celat amictu
ora: fluunt lacrimae more perennis aquae. 820
hinc pater, hinc coniunx lacrimas solantur et orant,
indicet, et caeco flentque paventque metu.
ter conata loqui ter destitit, ausaque quarto
non oculos ideo sustulit illa suos.
“hoc quoque Tarquinio debebimus? eloquar,” inquit, 825
“eloquar infelix dedecus ipsa meum?”
quaeque potest, narrat. restabant ultima: flevit,
et matronales erubuere genae.
dant veniam facto genitor coniunxque coacto:
“quam” dixit “veniam vos datis, ipsa nego.” 830
nec mora, celato fixit sua pectora ferro
et cadit in patrios sanguinulenta pedes.
tum quoque iam moriens ne non procumbat honeste,
respicit; haec etiam cura cadentis erat.
ecce super corpus communia damna gementes 835
obliti decoris virque paterque iacent.
Brutus adest tandemque animo sua nomina fallit
fixaque semianimi corpore tela rapit
stillantemque tenens generoso sanguine cultrum
edidit impavidos ore minante sonos: 840
“per tibi ego hunc iuro fortem castumque cruorem
perque tuos manes, qui mihi numen erunt,
Tarquinium profuga poenas cum stirpe daturum.
iam satis est virtus dissimulata diu.”
illa iacens ad verba oculos sine lumine movit 845
visaque concussa dicta probare coma.
fertur in exsequias animi matrona virilis
et secum lacrimas invidiamque trahit.
volnus inane patet. Brutus clamore Quirites
concitat et regis facta nefanda refert. 850
Tarquinius cum prole fugit, capit annua consul
iura: dies regnis illa suprema fuit.
fallimur, an veris praenuntia venit hirundo
nec metuit, ne qua versa recurrat hiems?
saepe tamen, Procne, nimium properasse quereris, 855
virque tuo Tereus frigore laetus erit.
685 Now have I to tell of the Flight of the King1: from it the sixth day from the end of the month has taken its name. The last to reign over the Roman people was Tarquin, a man unjust, yet puissant in arms. He had taken some cities and overturned others, and had made Gabii his own by foul play.2 For the king’s three sons the youngest, true scion of his proud sire, came in the silent night into the midst of the foes. They drew their swords. “Slay an unarmed man!” said he. “’Tis what my brothers would desire, aye and Tarquin, my sire, who gashed my back with cruel scourge.” In order that he might urge this plea, he had submitted to a scourging. The moon shone. They beheld the youth and sheathed their swords, for they saw the scars on his back, where he drew down his robe. They even wept and begged that he would side with them in war. The cunning knave assented to their unwary suit. No sooner was he installed in power than he sent a friend to ask his father to show him the way of destroying Gabii. Below the palace lay a garden trim of odoriferous plants, whereof the ground was cleft by a brook of purling water: there Tarquin received the secret message of his son, and with his staff he mowed the tallest lilies. When the messenger returned and told of the cropped lilies, “I take,” quoth the son, “my father’s bidding.” Without delay, he put to the sword the chief men of the city of Gabii and surrendered the walls, now bereft of their native leaders.
711 Behold, Ο horrid sight! from between the altars a snake came forth and snatched the sacrificial meat from the dead fires. Phoebus was consulted.3 An oracle was delivered in these terms: “He who shall first have kissed his mother will be victorious.” Each one of the credulous company, not understanding the god, hasted to kiss his mother. The prudent Brutus feigned to be a fool, in order that from thy snares, Tarquin the Proud, dread king, he might be safe; lying prone he kissed his mother Earth, but they thought he had stumbled and fallen. Meantime the Roman legions had compassed Ardea, and the city suffered a long and lingering siege. While there was naught to do, and the foe feared to join battle, they made merry in the camp; the soldiers took their ease. Young Tarquin4 entertained his comrades with feast and wine: among them the king’s son spake: “While Ardea keeps us here on tenterhooks with sluggish war, and suffers us not to carry back our arms to the gods of our fathers, what of the loyalty of the marriage-bed? and are we as dear to our wives as they to us?” Each praised his wife: in their eagerness dispute ran high, and every tongue and heart grew hot with the deep draughts of wine. Then up and spake the man who from Collatia took his famous name5: “No need of words! Trust deeds! There’s night enough. To horse! and ride we to the City.” The saying pleased them; the steeds are bridled and bear their masters to the journey’s end. The royal palace first they seek: no sentinel was at the door. Lo, they find the king’s daughters-in-law, their necks draped with garlands, keeping their vigils over the wine. Thence they galloped to Lucretia, before whose bed were baskets full of soft wool. By a dim light the handmaids were spinning their allotted stints of yarn. Amongst them the lady spoke on accents soft: “Haste ye now, haste, my girls! The cloak our hands have wrought must to your master be instantly dispatched. But what news have ye? For more news comes your way. How much do they say of the war is yet to come? Hereafter thou shalt be vanquished and fall: Ardea, thou dost resist thy betters, thou jade, that keepest perforce our husbands far away! If only they came back! But mine is rash, and with drawn sword he rushes anywhere. I faint, I die, oft as the image of my soldier spouse steals on my mind and strikes a chill into my breast.” She ended weeping, dropped the stretched yarn, and buried her face in her lap. The gesture was becoming; becoming, too, her modest tears; her face was worthy of its peer, her soul. “Fear not, I’ve come,” her husband said. She revived and on her spouse’s neck she hung, a burden sweet.
761 Meantime the royal youth caught fire and fury, and transported by blind love he raved. Her figure pleased him, and that snowy hue, that yellow hair, and artless grace; pleasing, too, her words and voice and virtue incorruptible; and the less hope he had, the hotter his desire. Now had the bird, the herald of the dawn, uttered his chant, when the young men retraced their steps to camp. Meantime the image of his absent love preyed on his senses crazed. In memory’s light more fair and fair she grew. “’Twas thus she sat, ’twas thus she dressed, ’twas thus she spun the yarn, ’twas thus her tresses lay fallen on her neck; that was her look, these were her words, that was her colour, that her form, and that her lovely face.” As after a great gale the surge subsides, and yet the billow heaves, lashed by the wind now fallen, so, though absent now that winsome form and far away, the love which by its presence it had struck into his heart remained. He burned, and, goaded by the pricks of an unrighteous love, he plotted violence and guile against an innocent bed. “The issue is in doubt. We’ll dare the utmost,” said he. “Let her look to it! God and fortune help the daring. By daring we captured Gabii too.”
784 So saying he girt his sword at his side and bestrode his horse’s back. The bronze-bound gate of Collatia opened for him just as the sun was making ready to hide his face. In the guise of a guest the foe found his way into the home of Collatinus. He was welcomed kindly, for he came of kindred blood. How was her heart deceived! All unaware she, hapless dame, prepared a meal for her own foes. His repast over, the hour of slumber came. ’Twas night, and not a taper shone in the whole house. He rose, and from the gilded scabbard he drew his sword, and came into thy chamber, virtuous spouse. And when he touched the bed, “The steel is in my hand, Lucretia,” said the king’s son “and I that speak am a Tarquin.” She answered never a word. Voice and power of speech and thought itself fled from her breast. But she trembled, as trembles a little lamb that, caught straying from the fold, lies low under a ravening wolf. What could she do? Should she struggle? In a struggle a woman will always be worsted. Should she cry out? But in his clutch was a sword to silence her. Should she fly? His hands pressed heavy on her breast, the breast that till then had never known the touch of stranger hand. Her lover foe is urgent with prayers, with bribes, with threats; but still he cannot move her by prayers, by bribes, by threats. “Resistance is vain,” said he, “I’ll rob thee of honour and of life. I, the adulterer, will bear false witness to thine adultery. I’ll kill a slave, and rumour will have it that thou wert caught with him.” Overcome by fear of infamy, the dame gave way. Why, victor, dost thou joy? This victory will ruin thee. Alack, how dear a single night did cost thy kingdom! And now the day had dawned. She sat with hair dishevelled, like a mother who must attend the funeral pyre of her son. Her aged sire and faithful spouse she summoned from the camp, and both came without delay. When they saw her plight, they asked why she mourned, whose obsequies she was preparing, or what ill had befallen her. She was long silent, and for shame hid her face in her robe: her tears flowed like a running stream. On this side and on that her father and her spouse did soothe her grief and pray her to tell, and in blind fear they wept and quaked. Thrice she essayed to speak, and thrice gave o’er, and when the fourth time she summoned up courage she did not for that lift up her eyes. “Must I owe this too to Tarquin? Must I utter,” quoth she, “must I utter, woe’s me, with my own lips my own disgrace?” And what she can she tells. The end she left unsaid, but wept and a blush o’erspread her matron cheeks. Her husband and her sire pardoned the deed enforced. She said, “The pardon that you give, I do refuse myself.” Without delay, she stabbed her breast with the steel she had hidden, and weltering in her blood fell at her father’s feet. Even then in dying she took care to sink down decently: that was her thought even as she fell. Lo, heedless of appearances, the husband and father fling themselves on her body, moaning their common loss. Brutus came, and then at last belied his name; for from the half-dead body he snatched the weapon stuck in it, and holding the knife, that dripped with noble blood, he fearless spake these words of menace: “By this brave blood and chaste, and by thy ghost, who shall be god to me, I swear to be avenged on Tarquin and on his banished brood. Too long have I dissembled my manly worth.” At these words, even as she lay, she moved her lightless eyes and seemed by the stirring of her hair to ratify the speech. They bore her to burial, that matron of manly courage; and tears and indignation followed in her train. The gaping wound was exposed for all to see. With a cry Brutus assembled the Quirites and rehearsed the king’s foul deeds. Tarquin and his brood were banished. A consul undertook the government for a year. That day was the last of kingly rule.
853 Do I err? or has the swallow come, the harbinger of spring, and does she not fear lest winter should turn and come again? Yet often, Procne, wilt thou complain that thou hast made too much haste, and thy husband Tereus will be glad at the cold thou feelest.
Called Regifugium. See Appendix, p. 394. (see the entry for ‘Regifugium.’)
Sextus Tarquin took Gabii by a trick. The story is also in Livy i. 53.
Another anecdote, brought in abruptly, to introduce Brutus, author of the Regifugium. See Livy, i. 56. 4.
A third anecdote: the siege of Ardea, and the rape of Lucretia by Sextus Tarquin; Livy i. 57. 4.
Tarquinius Collatinus.