BOOKTEXT9

'ECCE HOMO AMORE!'


LYCE


INTRODUCTION

The two Odes on Lyce are separated by some years, physically as well as poetically. In the first, Lyce is seen as a courtesan who can afford to be selective in choosing a lover, keeping Horace at arm's length whenever she chooses. In the second she has become old and no longer attractive, making a pathetic show of herself at parties. In both cases we sense a deeper emotion from Horace than hitherto; in the first he uses scathing language to explain to the lady what she is and what she is about; a businesslike attitude to the service she provides. In the second, he ponders on what has been, what she has meant to him and leads us to believe that she holds a special place in his memory.

Ode III, 10 is a complaint to Lyce that even a Scythian at the extreme edge of barbarity would not treat a lover in such a way. She keeps him out in the rain and snow while she luxuriates in the comfort of her villa. He berates her, saying that she is not in the mould of Penelope, with many troublesome suitors and there is no tapestry she need unwind each night. He almost shouts out the fact that, although she cannot be moved by his plight by gifts or pleadings, there will be no husband like Odysseus to come and drive him away. He ends by claiming she is a hard woman and no softer than a snake but that if she does not relent soon she need not expect him to wait.

Ode IV, 13 is a reverie that occurs when many years have passed, having seen what has become of Lyce. He cannot gloat too much because the same thing has happened to him: age has overtaken youth. What begins as mocking soon becomes muted as he realises that time is the enemy, not Lyce. In a passionate outburst he remembers Lyce as she was and what she brought to him as an innocent youth. He muses, without cynicism, that time which took Cinara away, has left Lyce to grow into an old crow of a woman. He wonders if the young men, that she now vainly tries to attract, can have any idea of the raving beauty that she once was.

These Odes, together, encapsulate the essence of love and, being so complementary in that respect, are deeply moving. It is impossible to read them without the sense that we all have a common destiny and that all paths lead inevitably to one exit. From the wide perspective that Horace allows us to envisage, we are concentrated, at the last, to a single understanding.

 

 

ODES III, 10

 

Extremum Tanain si biberes, Lyce,

Saevo nupta viro, me tamen asperas

Porrectum ante fores obicere incolis

Plorares Aquilonibus.

Audis, quo strepitu ianua, quo memus

Inter pulchra satum tecta remugiat

Ventis, et positas ut glaciet nives

Puro numine Iuppiter?

Ingratam Veneri pone superbiam,

Ne currente retro funis eat rota;

Non te Penelopen difficilem procis

Tyrrhenus genuit parens.

O quamvis neque te munera nec preces

Nec tinctus viola pallor amantium

Nec vir Pieria paelice saucius

Curvat, supplicibus tuis

Parcas, nec rigida mollior aesculo

Nec Mauris animum mitior anguibus

Non hoc semper erit liminis aut aquae

Celestis patiens latus.

LYCE I

If you were to live by distant Tanais, Lyce,

The wife of some fierce man, you might lament me,

Extended in desire before your entrance,

Exposed to the Northern elements.

Do you hear how the front door rumbles, and how the

Lovely grove concealed within, echoes, engendered

By the wind, and that the divine will of Jupiter

Glazes the drifted pristine snow.

Place dissenting pride with Venus, no unyielding

Penelope you, with suitors, but born of Etruscan

Parentage. The thread will not go running back

On to the spinning wheel

O you, neither more pliant than inflexible winter

Oak nor, in feeling, more mellow than a Mauretanian

Snake, neither gifts, nor prayers nor the pallor

Of a lover, the colour of a violet

Sways you, yet no wounded husband, detained by love

For a Macedonian mistress, will spare you from your

Suitors. Meanwhile, this body will not always be

Enduring, the theshold or the rain.

ODES IV, 13

Audivere, Lyce, di mea vota, di

Audivere, Lyce: fis anus et tamen

Vis formosa videri

Ludisque et bibis impudens

Et cantu tremulo pota Cupidinem

Lentum sollicitas. Ille virentis et

Doctae psallere Chiae

Pulchris excubat in genis.

Importunus enim transvolat aridas

Quercus, et refugit te, quia luridi

Dentes te, quia rugae

Turpant et capitis nives.

Nec Coae referunt iam tibi purpurae

Nec cari lapides tempora, quae semel

Notis condita fastis

Inclusit volucris dies.

Quo fugit Venus, heu, quove color? Decens

Quo motus? Quid habes illius, illius,

Quae spirabat amores,

Quae me surpuerat mihi,

Felix post Cinaram notaque et artium

Gratarum facies? Sed Cinarae breves

Annos Fata dederunt,

Servatura diu parem

Cornicis vetulae temporibus Lycen,

Possent ut iuvenes visere fervidi

Multo non sine risu

Dilapsam in cineres facem.

LYCE II

The Gods have heard, Lyce, the Gods have heard

My vow, Lyce; you are becoming an old woman yet

You frolic and drink without shame

And wish to seem beautiful and impudent

And, with quivering, drunken song, solicit

Phlegmatic Cupid. He keeps watch over vibrant

Chia with the beautiful cheeks

Said to be skilled in playing the cithara.

For, indifferent, he passes quickly over withered

Oak trees and shrinks from you because of wrinkled

Skin and yellow teeth and

The snowy head that make you seem unsightly.

Neither Coan purple silk nor precious jewels will

Bring back time for you now, which, once it marks

The days belonging to the calendar

Imprisons forever those you may have wanted back.

Alas where has Venus fled with the faultless beauty?

Where the elegance? What have you now of her,

Of her, that once breathed

Love's wonder and took from me my innocence,

Having been known, after Cinara, for perfect beauty?

The fates decreed Cinara a brief span in years, but,

By way of a balance, Lyce,

You were made, by inexorable time,

Into a little old woman the image of an ancient crow

That youth, not without much laughter, might be able

To see only ashes made

From what was once the flame of love.

 

ANALYSIS & COMMENTARY

ODES III, 10

Horace is once again about the business of seduction and uses contrasted images to gain entrance to the lady's house and her charms. He suggests, Extremum Tanian si biberes, Lyce, saevo nupto viro 'If you were living on the banks of extremely distant Tanais, Lyce, the wife to a savagely jealous man'. Having set the supposition, Horace attemps to cash in upon it, me tamen asperas porrectum ante fores obicere incolis plorares Aquilonibus 'nevertheless, you might lament with me, extended, before the stormy threshold, exposed to the native north winds.' He embroiders the theme, extending imagination further, Audis, quo strepitu ianua, quo nemus inter pulchra satum recta remugiat ventis 'you hear, how with the main gate, the grove of trees, planted within the walls, might echo in the winds.' Then, loading it to extreme, et positas ut glaciet nives puro numine Iuppiter? 'and that Jupiter with pristine majesty, glazes the fallen snow?'

Horace now changes his direction and addresses Lyce specifically on her own merits: Ingratam Veneri pone superbiam, ne currente retro funis eat rota. 'Place unprofitable pride with Venus, the thread may not go back on to the spinning wheel. And draws a parallel, non te Penelopen difficilem procis Tyrrhenus genuit parens. 'No obstinate Penelope you with suitors but born of Etruscan father'. So Horace introduces an Homeric dimension to his entreaties; Lyce should not be like Penelope, undoing her tapestry each night to fool her suitors. Although the meaning of ne currente retro funis eat rota; can be taken, obliquely, to mean 'lest the tables be turned on you' or 'that all your labours may be in vain' there is undoubtedly a connection to be made with the reference to Penelope and her suitors that follows. The introduction of some mechanical device to explain this passage is really not neccesary; the unwinding of the thread from the tapestry would have involved the rewinding of it back on to its original spool, or spinning wheel, else Penelope's strategy would have been obvious. Horace then renews his plea, describing Lyce unflatteringly,

O quamvis ... te ... nec rigida mollior aesculo nec Mauris animum mitior anguibus 'O you, although neither more pliant than inflexible oak nor, in feeling, more mellow than a Mauretanian snake'. Then he goes on to read the riot act, neque munera nec preces nec tinctus viola pallor amantium nec vir Pieria paelice sucius curvat, supplicibus tuis. 'Neither gifts nor prayers nor the pallor of a lover, the colour of a violet, sways you; yet no wounded husband, detained by love for a Macedonian mistress, will spare you from your suitors.' Horace, pursuing the Homeric theme further, with a slighting reference to Odysseus and his love affair with Circe, emphasises that, unlike Penelope, Lyce has no husband to stave off her suitors

In a final couplet, Horace returns to the opening theme, where he is still before the threshold, by now, becoming more plaintive. non hoc semper erit liminis aut aquae caelestis patiens latus 'Suffering the heavenly water on the threshold, this side (of his body) will not endure for ever.'

Without wishing to introduce a diverse interpretation, there are puzzling features about the use of asperas porrectum ante fores in the opening stanza being complimented bypatiens latus in the final stanza. There is a sense that Horace is labouring a point here, not entirely about physical discomfort. Both statements are connected with objects being extended, rigid, full or enduring. We cannot know now what was the Roman euphemism for the male tumescent arousal, but one might assume that Horace, indulging in a play on words, might be constructing a double–entendre.on the subject.

Fraenkel does not mention this Ode and Quinn accepts the usual meaning ascribed to the translation of the Ode, especially in lines 8 to 10 and 15 to 16 and 19 to 20. However one is convinced that the Homeric references to the Odyssey hold good and make more sense of what Horace wishes to say. Lyce is not married, she is a courtesan at the very least, but is being difficult and selective about whom she entertains. That Horace knows her well and has visited her many times cannot really be doubted.

 

ODES IV, 13

On first reading this Ode one might be forgiven for feeling that it has malicious overtones but reflection and re–reading may incline to the opposite view. Lyce is getting old but still clinging on to life and Horace may be casting her as a figure of fun. But then, Horace is old too and feeling it, as may be heard in Odes IV, 1. They are both survivors together and it is not a time for gloating. The content of the Ode is concerned with the thoughts that pass through the poet's mind when he encounters Lyce at a party. The opening stanza should therefore be seen, not as condemnatory, but congratulatory with a triumphant opening. Audivere, Lyce, di mea vota, di audivere: fis anus 'The Gods have heard Lyce, they have heart my vow: you are becoming an old woman.' Such a comment, by today's standards, would be uncomplimentary; by the standards of the shorter life expectancy of Horace's day, this need not be so. Then it was a question of survival that was important, not the ageing process. One should be prepared to read the remainder of the stanza in the same context. Et tamen vis formosa videri ludisque et bibis impudens 'yet you play and drink and wish to be seen beautiful and impudent'. Horace continues, et cantu tremulo pota Cupidinem lentum sollicitas 'and with a tremulous song you solicit phlegmatic Cupid'. Horace draws a gentle comparison, ille virentis et doctae psallere Chiae pulchris excubat in genis 'he keeps watch on the beautiful countenance of flourishing Chia, trained to play the cithara.'

Horace nows allows himself to make a personal observation of Lyce and the context is that her age shows and she can no longer expect to attract love.

Importunus enim transvolat aridas quercus, et refugit te 'indifferent, he avoids you and and flies past the arid oak tree.' Quia luridi dentes te, quia rugae turpant et capitis nives 'because yellow teeth, wrinkles in the face and grey hair make you unsightly.' Gently, Horace points out that time is the enemy of all, nec Coae referunt iam tibi purpurae nec cari lapides tempora 'neither purple Coan silk nor precious jewels will bring back time for you.' Quae semel notis condita fastis inclusit volucris dies, 'which, once it makes the mark establishing the calendar, imprisons forever the days you may have wanted returned.'

Suddenly, as though the previous stanza has let loose the tragedy of the scene within him, Horace shows passion himself. Quo fugit Venus, heu, quove color? Decens quo motus? 'Alas, where has Venus fled, or the faultless beauty? Where the elegant deportment?' Horace then reveals his own past involvement: quid habes illius, illius, quae spirabat amores, quae me surpuerat mihi 'What have you now of her, of her who once breathed love's wonder and took from me my innocence?' Horace continues the eulogy of use, felix post Cinaram notaque et artium gratarum facies 'fortunate and having been known, next in line to Cinara, for perfect beauty and form'. Horace reflects, sed Cinarae breves annos Fata dederunt 'but the Fates, although they only allowed Cinara a brief span of years', servatura diu parem cornicis vetulae temporibus Lycen 'as a balance they allowed Lyce many days, as though to serve the time of an old crow.' Horace concludes by remembering the past as it was, not as it now might seem. Possent ut iuvenes visere fervidi multo non sine risu dilapsam in cineres facem 'so that now, not without much amusement, passionate youth might be able to see only the ashes of decay in what was, once, the very flame of love'.

Fraenkel is deeply moved by this Ode and says so, accepting it for what it is and for what Horace has to say in it. He barely mentions any literary associations with the past but concentrates on the essence of the present. '... none of these earlier poems, ... matches the ode iv. 13 in intensity of feeling and expression, and none contains, embedded in the treatment of a rather repulsive subject, such gems of pure poetry.' (Fraenkel, Horace, 415) Fraenkel waxing lyrical indeed! One can quite forgive him the unfortunate phrase, 'rather repulsive subject', particularly those of us who are growing old ourselves, for such praise. Fraenkel agrees that what seeemingly starts out in ridicule, passes through the stages of pity, passionate grief and regret for lost years, to end on a note of only faint ridicule, 'perhaps to draw a veil over what he has let us see.' (Fraenkel, Horace, 416) Quinn, on the other hand, does not seem to see the passionate self–regret buried in the Ode but merely just another exercise in ridiculing an elderly courtesan who does not know when it is time to stop. He passes over Fraenkel's 'gems of pure poetry' without a great deal of comment and appears to accept the Ode much as the ultimate corollary of the Pyrrha Ode, I,5..

Considering that this Ode is amongst the very last that Horace wrote, when he himself must have been experiencing the same emotions himself, we should accord it as being far more self–revealing than his earlier works. It 'serves in iv. 13 ... as a mirror in which a wider picture can be seen' (Fraenkel, Horace, 415).' It is this wider picture that we must strive to perceive.