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Link to an image of this page Link to an image of this page [N5v p202]

In receptatores sicariorum.[1]

Those who harbour cut-throats

XCIIII.

Latronum furumque manus tibi Scaeva[2] per urbem
It comes, & diris cincta cohors gladiis.
Atque ita te mentis generosum prodige censes,
Qud tua complureis allicit olla malos.
En novus Actaeon, qui postqum cornua sumpsit,
In praedam canibus se dedit ipse suis.[3]

An evil-minded band of ruffians and thieves accompanies you about the city, a gang of supporters armed with lethal swords. And so, you wastrel, you consider yourself a fine lordly fellow because your cooking pot draws in crowds of scoundrels. - Here’s a fresh Actaeon - he, after he grew his horns, became the prey of his own hunting dogs.

Link to an image of this page Link to an image of this page [N6r p203]

Receptateurs d’homicides.

XCIIII.

Gens apres toy avecq’ espees,
(Dont plusieurs ont gaign le pendre,
Ou d’avoir oreilles coppees)
Te font cornes au chef extendre,
Mais il t’en pourra ainsi prendre,
En nourrissant telz ruffiens,
Que a Acteon: qui (faict cerf tendre)
Fust devor de tous ses chiens.

Notes:

1. Before the 1536 edition, Wechel editions used an earlier version of the woodcut in which the horns were more like a goat than a deer’s antlers.

2. Scaeva, ‘evil-minded’. The capital letter suggests that the Latin word could be taken as a proper name in the vocative case, i.e addressing one Scaeva.

3. For the story of Actaeon turned into a stag and killed by his own hounds, see Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.138ff. Similarly, the hangers-on will destroy the one who has fed them.


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Link to an image of this page Link to an image of this page [F7v p94]
Link to an image of this page Link to an image of this page [F8r p95]

FERE SIMILE EX THEOCRITO.[1]

Something more or less the same from Theocritus

Alveolis dum mella legit, percussit Amorem
Furacem mala apes, & summis spicula liquit
In digitis, tumido gemit at puer anxius ungue,
Et quatit errabundus humum, Venerique dolorem
Indicat, & graviter queritur qud apicula parvum
Ipsa inferre animal tam noxia vulnera possit.
Cui ridens Venus, hanc imitaris tu quoque dixit
Nate feram, qui das tot noxia vulnera parvus.[2]

While he was taking honey from the hives, a vicious bee stung thieving Amor, and left its sting in the end of his finger. The boy in distress cried out as his finger-end swelled up. He ran about, stamping his foot, showed his hurt to Venus, and complained bitterly that a little bee, that tiny creature, could inflict such grievous wounds. Venus smiled at him and said, “You are like this creature, my son; small as you are you deal many a grievous wound”.

Notes:

1. 3rd-century BC bucolic poet, who may or may not have wrriten the Idylls (19, The Honey Stealer), of which this is a fairly close translation, in dactylic hexameters, as in the Greek original.


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