[Julie Steiner]

Here we go again, thus thoroughly debunking the notion that Opportunity, once flown, doesn't return.

Ausonius lived about six centuries after Posidippus (310–240 BCE) and about eleven centuries before Machiavelli (1469-1527). Unlike the others, this version refers to talaria (winged sandals) rather than winged feet. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talaria


Decimus Magnus Ausonius (c. 310 – c. 395)

On an Image of Opportunity (Occasio) and Regret (Paenitentia)

“Artwork by...?” “Phidias. His was the image of Pallas Minerva.
     Jove he made, also. And me. I am his Feat Number Three.
I am the goddess Occasio, noticed by few, and quite rarely.”
     “Why do you stand on a wheel?” “Since I can never stand still.”
“Why do your sandals have wings?” “I am volatile. Mercury scatters
     prizes at random; I choose—whimfully—which could be whose.”
“Why hide your face with your hair?” “I dislike being recognized.” “Wow! You’re
     bald at the back of your head!” “Thus, I’m not caught when I’ve fled.”
“Who’s your companion?” “Let her do the talking.” “Explain who you are, please.”
     “I am that goddess—the same—Cicero never would name.
I am that goddess who punishes deeds that are done, or are not, by
     making emotions upset. That’s why I’m nicknamed Regret.”
“Over to you again—why does she join you?” “Whenever I fly from
     those I pass by, she’ll remain. Her, they will have to retain.
Likewise will you. Though you’re still getting answers, still stalling with questions,
     now I am slipping away—right through your hands, you will say.


LATIN ORIGINAL
LITERAL ENGLISH PROSE CRIB

In Simulacrum Occasionis et Paenitentiae
On an Image of Opportunity and Regret

Cuius opus? Phidiae: qui signum Pallados, eius
     quique Iovem fecit; tertia palma ego sum.
“Whose work?” “Phidias’s: who made (fecit, L2) the image of Pallas (Minerva, Athena), his
     Jove (Zeus) as well; I am his third triumph.

sum dea quae rara et paucis OCCASIO nota.
     quid rotulae insistis? stare loco nequeo.
I am a goddess who is rare and noticed by few, Opportunity/Chance.”
     “Why are you treading a small wheel?” “I cannot stand in place.”

quid talaria habes? volucris sum. Mercurius quae
     fortunare solet, trado ego, cum volui.
“Why do you have winged sandals?” “I am volatile. What things Mercury
     tends to give at random, I deliver as I wish.”

crine tegis faciem. cognosci nolo. sed heus tu
     occipiti calvo es? ne tenear fugiens.
“You hide your face with your hair.” “I don’t want to be recognized.” “But — oh! — you
     bald at the back of your head?” “So as not to be caught escaping.”

quae tibi iuncta comes? dicat tibi. dic rogo, quae sis.
     sum dea, cui nomen nec Cicero ipse dedit.
“What woman (is) joined with you as a companion?” “Let (her) tell you.” “Tell, I beg, who you are.”
     “I am the goddess to whom not even Cicero himself gave a name.

sum dea, quae factique et non facti exigo poenas,
     nempe ut paeniteat, sic METANOEA vocor.
I am the goddess who exacts penalties for what is done and not done,
     so that she makes (people feel) utterly sorry, thus I am called Regret.”

tu modo dic, quid agat tecum. quandoque volavi,
     haec manet; hanc retinent, quos ego praeterii.
“You again, tell what she doing with you.” “Whenever I have flown,
     she remains. Her they retain, whom I have passed by.

tu quoque dum rogitas, dum percontando moraris,
     elapsam dices me tibi de manibus.
And you too, while/though you persistently question now, while/though you linger, interrogating,
     will say I have slipped out from your hands.”



Text:
https://dn790000.ca.archive.org/0/it...o.pdf#page=186
The dictionary-linked text at the Perseus Project has several typos in it, but it still might still come in handy if you want to click on a word:
https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper...section%3 D33

[Carl Copeland]

I’m thoroughly enjoying this series, Julie, and those who read it in print will too. Initial thoughts:

“Artwork by...?” “Phidias.

This works, though another possibility would be “Sculpted by …?” The images of Athena and Zeus are statues, so I assume Occasio’s is as well.

     “Why do you stand on a wheel?” “Since I can never stand still.”

For some reason, I want “Because” (which doesn’t fit) or nothing at all in place of “Since,” though I can’t fault it grammatically, so never mind. The answer isn’t terribly logical, btw, but the oddness should be retained if it’s in the original.

“Why do your sandals have wings?” “I am volatile. Mercury scatters
     prizes at random; I choose—whimfully—which could be whose.”

My spellchecker doesn’t care for the neologism, and neither do I, especially as an addition to the original. Also, “could” may be too hypothetical. How about:

     prizes at random; I choose which, at my whim, will be whose.

or

     prizes at random; I choose which of his gifts/boons will be whose.

“Why hide your face with your hair?” “I dislike being recognized.” “Wow! You’re
     bald at the back of your head!” “Thus, I’m not caught when I’ve fled.”

Modern colloquialisms such as “Let her do the talking,” “Over to you again” and “stalling” work surprisingly well, but I think I’d prefer “Wait!” or “Hey!” to “Wow!” which implies that the speaker is favorably impressed as well as surprised. The jumpy enjambment here livens things up.

     “I am that goddess—the same—Cicero never would name.

This gave me the idea that Cicero would never admit regret. The crib, though, got me thinking that Cicero named lots of gods in his writings, but this one is so rare that even he didn’t name her. Do we know what’s up here?

I am that goddess who punishes deeds that are done, or are not, by
     making emotions upset. That’s why I’m nicknamed Regret.”

Another enjambment that keeps things hopping. “Making emotions upset” seems awkward, though. Maybe you could get away with “the doers” in place of “emotions” if you put “or are not” in parentheses. You could also replace “I’m nicknamed” with “they call me” to avoid the implication that she has a more official name.

“Over to you again—why does she join you?” “Whenever I fly from
     those I pass by, she’ll remain. Her, they will have to retain.

“Whenever I fly from those I pass by” seems borderline redundant, but I don’t suppose it’ll ever be noticed on a galloping horse.

Over to you again, Julie.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Julie—
Like Carl, I am enjoying your deep dive into Classical, medieval, and Renaissance literature pursuing the allegorical figure of Opportunity. I am particularly impressed with the skill, cleverness, and seeming effortlessness of your ability to render elegiac couplets in English—with internal rhymes in the pentameter lines, no less. Here are a few thoughts:

Ausonius gives Occasio a rotula as an attribute. I’m used to seeing the wheel as an attribute of Fortuna, as in Boethius’ Consolatio Philosophiae. Was there some confusion on Ausonius’ part, or is the “wheel of fortune” commonly also given to Opportunity?

The word “volatile” in line 5 has a long and complicated etymological journey from its origin in the Latin verb volo. I suspect Ausonius is indulging in some wordplay with the two meanings of volo (to fly/to want), but in spite of its origins, in no context can I imagine the modern English word “volatile” meaning “able to fly,” which is the meaning of volucer -is -e. Could you replace “volatile” with “flightworthy” or some other dactyl that answers the speaker’s question more clearly?

I thought Occasio’s point was that her decisions about awarding favors are more considered and based on her will, where by contrast Mercury simply throws out favors like Mardi Gras beads with no thought or desire to reward. By calling herself “volatile,” Occasio seems to suggest that she is unstable or capricious, when in fact Mercury is the “volatile” (or mercurial) one.

As much as I loved the word “whimfully,” (which I was surprised to find in the dictionary in its adjective form), I think that volui implies more than whim or caprice. In the perfect indicative, Occasio is suggesting, with some pride it seems to me, that she has decided whom to reward with more care and consideration than her similarly winged colleague, Mercury. How about replacing “whimfully” with “willfully?”

Percontor literally means “to probe with a stick,” even though it came to mean “to ask” and was the ancestor of the Spanish preguntar. It seems to me that by the next-to-last line, Occasio has grown impatient with the speaker’s rude and intrusive questions. To convey this, you might consider replacing “stalling” with “probing.”

I always learn a lot from studying your work. Thanks, Julie.