Wednesday, April 17, 2024

25.03.24: reading the past

Reading the past

A coward to the last?

Messalina, the wife of Claudius, has a tawdry affair with Silius which goes way too far and is a flagrant challenge to the authority of the Emperor. The affair is exposed:

In the meanwhile, not rumour only but messengers were hurrying in from all quarters, charged with the news that Claudius knew all and was on the way, hot for revenge.

She takes refuge in the Gardens of Lucullus. As the Roman historian Tacitus recounts the events, he tears her to pieces:

Life was over and done; and all that could be attempted was decency in death. But honour had no place in that lust-corrupted soul, and tears and lamentations were being prolonged in vain, when the door was driven in by the onrush of the new-comers, and over her stood the tribune in silence, and the freedman upbraiding her with a stream of slavish insults.

Now for the first time she saw her situation as it was, and took hold of the steel. In her agitation, she was applying it without result to her throat and again to her breast, when the tribune ran her through.

The grand finale of a string of offences against the Emperor is the worst of offences – the inability honourably to take one’s own life. And so the tribune does it for her.

If Tacitus didn’t like somebody, he made sure his readers knew.

Read all about it [from Paragraph 26 onwards]:

https://penelope.uchicago.edu/.../Tacitus/Annals/11b*.html

One of the principal aims of learning Latin is to read the poetry, plays, letters, speeches and historical narratives of some of the greatest writers who ever lived. And when you finally complete a text in Latin, you deserve a pat on the back because, to get there properly, can be tough work. That, however, doesn’t prevent you at the outset from reading the works in English to familiarise yourself with the content, the people and the main events.

This is just a piece of advice from my own personal experience. When I started, I knew virtually nothing about the Romans, I picked up a copy of the Annals by the historian Tacitus, read the first page … and put it back on the shelf. It was too long and too involved, there were too many names and, to be honest, I couldn’t put timelines to events or identify what was of real importance and what wasn’t.

Understanding the Romans, just like understanding their language, takes a lot of time. In the end I began – in English - with Pliny’s two letters that recount the events surrounding the eruption of Vesuvius. That interested me and I could contextualise it because I had been to Pompeii. They’re short, easy to read and not only do they give you an insight into what happened, they also tell you quite a lot about the motivation of the man who wrote them.

Here is a link to both letters in English (6.16 and 6.20)

https://www.yorku.ca/pswarney/2100/pliny-6-16-20.htm

The poet Catullus – although his language can be “raunchy” and sometimes downright obscene gives us access to the mentality and emotions of one man, not somebody who is waxing lyrical about ancient heroes and victories in battles, but who describes the world that orbits him, the people around him and his, at times, tempestuous relationships with them.

https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Catullus.php

Another way of cherry picking Roman literature is to look at the UK A and AS Level examination sites; they list works in which the students will be examined. However, they are never examined in the entire, often very lengthy text, but rather selections from them i.e. those parts which the examiners consider to be particularly relevant. When I took a look through that, and found the Tacitus extracts, I then took the book back off the shelf and read those. The UK syllabuses are available at:

https://www.ocr.org.uk/.../as.../latin-h043-h443-from-2016/

Similarly, the UK GCSE Latin examinations – for the 16-year-olds – also have some fantastic downloadable material based on different aspects of Roman life. These contain excerpts in Latin with the translations. Here is a link to one, but the whole site is worth exploring:

https://www.exams.cambridgescp.com/.../eduqas-component...

I know too that the AP Latin examination from the US will also list specific parts of the literature which include Vergil and Caesar.

Here are a few others:

Gallic Wars (Caesar):

https://penelope.uchicago.edu/.../Gallic_War/home.html

Civil Wars (Caesar):

https://penelope.uchicago.edu/.../Civil_Wars/home.html

Letters to Friends (Cicero); in Latin and English:

https://archive.org/.../letterstohisfrie.../page/92/mode/2up

Letters to Atticus (Caesar); in Latin and English:

https://archive.org/.../letterstoatticu.../page/156/mode/2up

Epistles (Horace):

https://www.poetryintranslation.com/.../HoraceEpistlesBkI...

Epigrams (Martial):

https://topostext.org/work/677

Over the next few posts, we’re going to start looking at one of the “keys” to unlock Latin literature, namely the past tenses. As usual, these texts will be posted with vocabulary and notes and then more details on the points of grammar. However, I will also put a translation in the comments section, but you should try to grasp the Latin before you look there!

It took me over two years before I finally embarked on full-scale texts in Latin, but I was pleased when, having eventually read Pliny's Vesuvius letters in the original language, I thought to myself "I'm not sure he's telling the whole truth."

 





 

25.03.24: Wilkes [2]; take what you need and leave the rest

A few more notes from the Wilkes excerpts which provide us with some useful vocabulary and phrases:

[1] domine: “sir” like Fr. monsieur; Gmn. mein Herr; vocative of dominus (master); very common in Mediaeval writing e.g. Grātiās tibi agō, domine. The translation can vary depending on who precisely the person is e.g. lord; master of the house

dominula: this is an example of using (very rare) Classical Latin to convey contemporary ideas; dominulus (a little lord) does exist, and there is a feminine form dominula. Here it is being used to express “Miss” Fr. mademoiselle.

[2] longinquus, -a, -um: far

  • Estne longinquum? Is it far?

[3] Quā viā ad [popīnam] veniō? How do I get to [the restaurant]? Again, note the use of the ablative case to express by what means something is done i.e. literally: By which way do I come to the restaurant? You see the same use in “ī secundā viā sinistrōrsum”: go via the second street on the left.

[4] situs, -a, um: situated

  • Popīna ā dextrā parte / ā laevā parte sita est. The restaurant is situated on the right / left side.

[5] Other prepositions to show location:

  • prope + accusative: near
  • contrā + accusative: across from; opposite
  • circum + accusative: around

Nam nusquam alibī sī sunt, circum argentāriās / scorta et lēnōnēs quī sedent cottīdiē. (Plautus)

For, if they are nowhere else, the procurers with their harlots are around the bankers' shops each day.

  • Estne in propinquō argentāria? Is there a bank around here?
  • Ita est. Illīc ¦ contrā popīnam. Yes, there is. Over there ¦ across from the restaurant.

Illīc: over there, often, as the image shows, with the idea of indicating something at a distance

  • Estne in propinquō piscina? Is there a swimming baths around here?
  • Ita est. Illīc ¦ prope mercātum. Yes, there is. Over there ¦ near the market.

I’m leaving the Wilkes excerpts now partly because the intention of her book is to fulfil contemporary needs and if we start moving into vocabulary for “railway station” and “youth hostel”, we’ll be distracted from the aim of the Classical Latin language. Wilkes, for example, uses the word minūta to express ‘minute’. That is Mediaeval Latin; no such word for “minute” existed in Classical Latin because the Romans did not include minutes when calculating times. And, as was mentioned in the previous post, pharmacopōla was not a pharmacy, but the person who sold medicines. However, you can see the great efforts authors put in to bring Latin to the 21st century.

What we can do, however, is extract from these texts what will be of benefit. From both the Wilkes and Traupman excerpts, we have everything we need.

 


25.03.24: pharmocopola

In the next post, Wilkes gives the word pharmacopōla as meaning a pharmacy, which wasn't exactly its meaning in Ancient Rome. The term pharmacopōla referred to somebody who sold medicines, a pharmacist, but was also used in a derogatory sense to describe a "quack." The noun is actually masculine, but the image shows the relief of a woman working at the pharmacy stand.




25.03.24: Notes on Wilkes [1]: exploiting a text; how to say “excuse me”; how to tell somebody to give you something

Language teachers sometimes use the term “exploiting” a text. That doesn’t mean copying its content – which is pointless plagiarism – but identifying vocabulary, phrases and grammar which can be used in any context. The Wilkes extracts show some simple examples of that.

How did the Romans attract somebody’s attention in the street? Again, what may seem straightforward in English or other languages, takes a bit of digging in Latin.

Dā mihi veniam: excuse me

The Roman poet Catullus is well-known for his on-off love entaglements with his “fairweather” girlfriend, Lesbia. Lesbia, however, was not his only target …

I commend myself and my lover to you, Aurelius. I come with a modest request that, — if you longed for anything with your heart which you desired chaste and untouched — you will preserve my boyfriend's chastity from — I do not say from the people: I fear not at all those who hurry along the thoroughfares here and there occupied on their own business: in truth, my fear is from you…

I’ve often wondered why, if Catullus was so keen to preserve this young man’s chastity, he introduced him to his mate Aurelius who – and Catullus already knew it – would do anything but preserve it! Anyway, that group of poems called the Juventius cycle is a juicy little soap opera which is worth a read even in English. Did Aurelius grant Catullus that modest favour and keep his hands off Juventius? You’ll have to read it for yourself.

That was a roundabout way of introducing a word:

Commendō tibi mē ac meōs amōrēs, / Aurēlī. Veniam petō pudentem, ¦ I commend myself and my lover to you, Aurelius. / I come with a modest request.

[i] Mī gnāte, dā veniam hanc mihi: redūce illam. (Terence) ¦ My son, do grant me this indulgence: take her back.

[ii] Date nōbis hanc veniam. (Cicero) ¦ Give us this indulgence. [Cicero often wrote “we / us” when referring to himself]

Two for the price of one!

[iii] Dā mihi hanc veniam, [ii] ignōsce, īrāta nē siēs(Plautus) ¦ [i] Grant me pardon; [ii] forgive (me), don't be angry.

So, the phrase dā mihi veniam can be used to ask somebody for a favour. Whether or not it was actually used in the street is another matter. Wilkes, however, writing for modern needs, uses it as an equivalent of “Pardon me” or along the lines of “Would you do me a favour?”

Traupman, on the other hand, uses ignōsco, ignōscere[3]: forgive; pardon. The verb takes the dative:

  • ignōsce mihi: pardon me

Of course, unless we accidentally step on somebody’s foot, the English phrase “Pardon me” is just a polite way of attracting somebody’s attention whereas in Classical Latin it generally refers to a request for forgiveness if you’ve done something wrong. But, again, if your aim is purely to speak Latin, then it’s perfectly acceptable, but the verb crops up a lot in the literature and so it's useful to know.

And so, have we reached a definitive conclusion? Probably not, but what does matter is that you can get some important points out of the two extracts, and we’ll focus on one here:

Dā mihi … Give (to) me …

  • Dā mihi, quaesō, illum librum. Please give me that book.
  • Dā mihi, quaesō, pōculum vīnī. Please give me a glass of wine.
  • Dā mihi ducentōs nummōs … tē obsecrō. (Plautus) ¦ Give me two hundred … coins, I implore you.
  • Dā mihi argentum. (Plautus) ¦ Give me the silver (i.e. money; Fr. argent: money or silver)

And here’s a spot of upset from Plautus where the phrase is used. In bold are some handy words to say in the bank when they refuse to give you a loan!

“Vir summē populī, stabulum servitūtium, / scortōrum līberātor, sūduculum flagrī, / compedium trītor, pistrīnōrum cīvitās, / perenniserve, lurcōedāxfūrāx, fugāx, / cedo sīs mī argentum, dā mihi argentum, impudēns, / possum ā tē exigere argentum?”

“Fellow, dregs of the populace, you stable for she-slaves, you liberator of harlots, you surface for the lash, you wearer-out of the fetters, you citizen of the treadmill, you slave everlastingly, you gormandizergluttonpilfererrunaway, give me the money, will you. Give me the money, impudence. Can I get the money out of you?”

And another jig-saw piece: Possum ¦ ā tē ¦ exigere [infinitive] ¦ argentum? Can I get = Am I able ¦ to get ¦ the money ¦ from you?

And if you regret having called the bank manager a liberator of harlots, you can say: ignōsce mihi (forgive me).

There are far stronger insults - including doing unspeakable things with vegetables - but you need to ask Catullus about them!






 

25.03.24: Wilkes [1]

We've taken a look at a couple of dialogues from Traupman. Here are two from Wilkes. I'll talk about them a bit more in the next post.







25.03.24: Traupman [2]; omnis

A: Quō vīs īre?  Where do you want to go to?

B: Ubi est stadium, quaesō?  Where’s the stadium please?

A: [i] Rēctā perge per trēs vīcōs usque ad theātrum; [ii] dein tē verte dextrōrsum [iii] et prōcēde usque ad secundum compitum. [iv] Stadium est ab laevā.

[i] Go straight ahead for three blocks* as far as the theatre; [ii] then turn right [iii] and go on to the second intersection.** [iv] The stadium is on the left.

B: Et ubi est gymansium?  And where is the gymnasium?

A: [i] Haud procul est ā stadiō. [ii] Ubi stadium praeterieris, [iii] rēctā perge per duōs vīcōs; [iv] ibi stat templum in angulō. [vi] Tē verte sinistrōrsum et [vii] ambulā per trēs vīcōs. [viii] Cōnspiciēsdein gymnasium prope moenia.

[i] It’s not far from the stadium. [ii] When you’ve passed the stadium, [iii] carry straight on for two blocks; [iv] a temple stands on the corner there. [vi] Turn left and [vii] walk for three blocks. [viii] You’ll then see the gymnasium near the walls.

B: Estne popīna in vīcīniā?  Is there a restaurant in the vicinity?

Ā: Est popīna in omnī ferē angulō.  There’s a restaurant on almost every corner.

[1] ubi? where? (no movement); quō? to where? (movement towards); unde? from where? (movement from)

[2] vicus: Traupman uses this word to refer to the equivalent of US city blocks, but in Ancient Rome it can refer to a neighbourhood or a row of houses. The word also means ‘village’.

[3] usque ad + accusative: as far as; all the way up to; Fr. jusqu’à; Gmn. bis zu

[4] dein; deinde: then

[5] prōcēdō, prōcēdere [3]: proceed; advance; go forward

[6] **competum: intersection; again, Traupman is using this in a contemporary context. In Classical Latin compitum is usually plural i.e. compita meaning ‘crossroads’.

[7] laevus, -a, -um, a synonym for sinistersinistrasinistrum: left

  • ā / ab laevā; ā sinistrā: on the left
  • ā dextrā: on the right

[8] procul [ā + ablative]: far [from]; haud procul [ā + ablative]: not far [from]

[9] praetereō, praeterīre [irr.]: go past; this is simply a compound of the verb īre [irr.]: go + praeter- (‘past’)

  • Vīllam praetereō sciēns. (Terence) ¦ I purposely pass by the house.

In The Captives by Plautus, the character Ergasilus complains about the pigs being fed by the baker …

  • … quārum odōre praeterīre nēmō pistrīnum potest ¦ through the stench of which nobody can pass by a baker’s shop.

Again, note the form of the verb in the text: Ubi stadium praeterieris, literally: When you will have passed by the stadium [= when you’ve passed by]; don’t be concerned by the tense at the moment.

[10] angulus: corner

[11] cōnspiciō, cōnspicere [3-iō]: see; watch; catch sight of

The future tense is used here: Cōnspiciēs dein gymnasium ¦ You’ll then see the gymnasium. We will start looking at different tenses in the upcoming posts, and so, again, I wouldn’t be distracted by it at this stage.

[12] omnis [masc. / fem.], omne [neut.]: all; every. Here it is in the ablative case: in omnī ferē angulō ¦ on almost every corner. This is the kind of word that, when you see it in a table, it can seem overwhelming, but it is so important and so common that I’ve posted the forms of it for reference so that you can spot them when reading. It will come up again. Knowledge of words like omnis will come gradually with reading and I certainly wouldn’t recommend learning to ‘recite’ it just now. Its endings, however, do matter a lot as you'll see when we begin looking at other noun declensions.

But you have probably see this word elsewhere:

  • Labor omnia vincit: work conquers all things

If somebody is omniscient, they know everything; from Latin omnis (everything) and sciēns (knowing) < sciō, scīre [4]: know

And the next time you’re travelling on a “bus”, you’re travelling on a Latin word: omnibus (for everybody)

The word compitum (compita) generally refers to "a place where several ways meet"; the image posted is the closest we'll get to one in Pompeii. The second image shows a house and workshop (fabrica) on a street corner.

I've posted the declension of omnis for reference rather than rote learning. And, if you want to learn it, you can wear it!










 

24.03.24: Traupman [1]; irregular verb possum, posse (to be able)

A: Potesne mē addūcere in oppidum?  Can you take me into town?

B: Certē. Quid vīs facere in oppidō?  Of course, what do you want to do in town?

A: Multa. Prīmum volō īre in tabernam sūtrīnam.  A lot of things. First, I want to go to [into] the shoe shop.

B: Quid ibi emere vīs?  What do you want to buy there?

A: Soleās emere volō. Ubi possum librōs emere?  I want to buy sandals. Where can I buy books?

B: Multae tabernae lībrāriae in Argīlētō sunt.  There are many book shops in the Argiletum*.

A: Ubi terrārum est Argīlētum?  Where in the world is the Argiletum?

B: Argīlētum exadversum macellum est.  The Argiletum is opposite the market.

*Argiletum: a street in Ancient Rome, famous for its booksellers and referred by several Roman authors.

Notes

[1] Pōtesne … ? Can you…?

And so, we can now look at another irregular verb:

possum, posse [irr.]: to be able

This verb however is a “fusion” of potis (able) + the verb you already know i.e. sumesse [irr.]: to be

  1. possum: I am able; I can
  2. potes: you (sg.) can
  3. potest: he / she / it can
  4. possumus: we can
  5. potestis: you (pl.) can
  6. possunt: they can

Like volō, velle [irr.]: want, what you are able todo is expressed by an infinitive

Potesne mē audīre? │ Can you hear me?

Ignōsce mihi, tē audīre nōn possum. │ Forgive me / I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.

Potesne mē adiuvāre? │ Can you help me?

  • Certē tē adiuvāre possum. │ Of course I can help you.

[2]

Quid vīs facere ¦ in oppidō? │ What do you want to do ¦ in town?

  • In forō dēambulāre volō. │ I want to take a walk in the market place.

Quid vīs emere? │ What do you want to buy?

  • Cibum emere volō. │ I want to buy food.

[3] exadversum [either an adverb or a preposition with the accusative]: opposite; facing e.g. other side of the street

Terence, in the same dialogue from which the previous directions were selected, also used this:

  • Priusquam ad portam venias, apud ipsum lacum est pistrilla et exadversum est fabrica.

Before you come to the gate, near the lake itself there is a small bakery and opposite there is a workshop.

[4] A nice – and polite – phrase to use when you’re completely lost, or possibly desperate: Ubi terrārum est …? Where in the world is …?

  • Ubi terrārum est lātrīna?!!

Tacitus makes a derogatory remark concerning a gladiatorial show put on by Vatinius:

  • Vatīnius inter foedissima eius aulae ostenta fuit, sūtrīnae tabernae alumnus, …

The man was one of the most conspicuously infamous sights in the imperial court, the product of a shoemaker's shop,…

The first image shows a taberna sūtrīna, a shoemaker or shoe repairer’s workshop, and the second shows you where in the world the Argiletum actually is.



24.03.24: Modern voices

What is sometimes a five minute task in a modern foreign language is a different story in Latin. If we want to know how to ask the way to the Eiffel Tower in French, or buy a Bier and Bratwurst in Berlin, it doesn’t take long to find out, and if you speak neither French nor German there will be thousands of online – reliable – references that will tell you the same thing.

Given, however, that Cicero never asked the way to the vegetable market – or, if he did, he never bothered to write it down – and, presumably, Caesar knew where Gaul was, the everyday language of the Romans can be a bit murky.

Does it matter? It depends on your perspective; I believe that, if the aim of the journey is to read the Roman authors, then being thoroughly familiar with the foundations is essential, and the way to achieve that is partly by active practice in context, hence this topic on directions. I like the topic of directions – in any language – because it combines different verb forms, a range of prepositions, and a good deal of key vocabulary.

And all of that will reemerge when you’re reading.

The two book titles I have reproduced below are focused on that. Wilkes’ Latin for Beginners is a gentle, and fun way of learning Latin in practical contexts. It’s short, about fifty pages long, and can fit neatly into a backpack to be read in Starbucks. Wilkes’ book contains vocabulary such as “post office” and “supermarket” which is not really what this group is about. Nevertheless, it has a good store of vocabulary and phrases that are relevant.

At over 400 pages, Traupman’s Conversational Latin for Oral Proficiency is a hefty work, and a monumental one in my view. Traupman’s work combines Classical and also Neo-Latin, and so, if you want to find the Latin for airconditioner, you’ll find it; I’ve checked: īnstrūmentum āerī temperandō

You can certainly apply the vocabulary of both books to your daily lives.

What’s interesting – and admirable – about both of them is the amount of research that has been done, and both writers have obviously consulted the Roman authors to find constructions which, even if the original writings are not exactly what we want to say, can be reworked according to accurate grammar, sentence structure and vocabulary to create it.

In the next post I will look at one dialogue from Traupman which suits our needs.







 

24.03.24: Ancient voices

The term “old” Latin or “early” Latin is used to refer to the Latin language before 75BCE. However, although there are differences, the works of the Roman dramatists Plautus and Terence are regularly studied.

An interesting note on Terence is given in Wikipedia:

“His plays were heavily used to learn to speak and write in Latin during the Middle Ages and Renaissance Period, and in some instances were imitated by William Shakespeare.”

In fact, if you obtain a copy of Reading Latin by Jones and Sidwell – a book that is highly recommended – it begins with excerpts from those comic plays. Some excerpts from these works are very useful for this topic. The command forms introduced are in the singular; previous notes refer to the plural forms, which are straightforward to do.

[1] eō, īre [irr.]: go > ī: go!

  • Ī …ī ad forum (Plautus) ¦ Go…go to the forum

[2]

[i] dexter, dext(e)ra, dext(e)rum: right

[ii] sinister, sinstra, sinistrum: left

  • ī ad sinistram ¦ hāc rēctā platēā; ubi ad templum Diānae vēneris, ī ad dextram. (Terence) ¦
  • Go to the left ¦ straight along the “broad” street; when you’ve come to the temple of Diana, go to the right.
  • ī ad sinistram: go to the left
  • ī ad dextram: go to the right

platēa: “The principal street in a town, suggesting the Broad Street and Broadway of modern cities” (Thurston Peck); in the UK we would most likely say “High Street”.

hāc rēctā platēā: this phrase is in the ablative, the character saying to go by means of this straight road

A small point to note that is still quite a long way off is: “Ubi ad templum Dianae veneris”; veniō, venīre [4]: come + ad (to) with accusative. However, a feature of Latin that differs from English is the use of tenses. What the character actually says is “When you will have come to the temple” i.e. “When you’ve reached…” French would create a similar construction, but English doesn’t.

As always, you don’t have to wait for a grammar explanation to be able to use it:

  • Ubi ad macellum vēneris, ī ad dextram. When you get to the market, go to the right.

[3] Later writers also give us information. The poet Horace, talking about those who stray from the path in error states:

  • ille sinistrōrsum, hic dextrōrsum abit ¦ one goes off to the left, another to the right

Describing a forest, Caesar says:

  • hinc sē flectit sinistrōrsus ¦ from there it bends to the left

And in the works of Livy, we read:

  • Sp. Furius M. Horatius dextrōrsus in maritimam oram atque Antium… pergunt. ¦ Sp. Furius and M. Horatius continue / go on to the right in the direction of Antium and the coast

[i] sinistrōrsus; sinistrōrsum [adverbs; they don’t change]: to the left

[ii] dextrōrsus; dextrōrsum [adverbs; they don’t change]: to the right

And so, there is more than one way of saying the same thing.

[5] Go back to the Caesar quotation where he says that the river bends or turns itself (sē) to the left. It’s possible to use that:

  • Flecte tē sinistrōrsus / sinistrōrsum: turn (yourself) to the left
  • Flecte tē dextrōrsus / dextrōrsum: turn (yourself) to the right

You will also come across verte tē which has the same meaning as ‘turn (yourself)’:

  • Verte tē dextrōrsum: turn (yourself) to the right

[6] In the Livy quotation, they are continuing to the coast.

pergō, pergere [3]: continue; go on

We can say:

  • Perge rēctā [rectā was in the Terence quotation]: Carry on straight ahead.
  • Perge īre: keep on going

And [image] although Terence was based in Rome, we can use his instructions to take a short walk around Pompeii, with a few alternatives.



 

23.03.24: Back to school ... in 1649.

Back to school ... in 1649.

Who needs an app when you can learn the Latin command forms from Charles Hoole?

“An easie entrance to the Latine tongue ... a work tending to the school-masters's eas, and the weaker scholar's encouragement in the first and most wearisome steps to learning.”

Apart from teaching a bit of Latin here, it also shows us the rather odd way we wrote in 1649! But the other point of interest is that Hoole – and he wasn’t the only one in the 17th century – still emphasised practice in speaking the language. And you can see that, regardless of how old the book is, it still contains some very useful vocabulary.

Rise betimes [early] ¦ Surge manē

Go to bed betime ¦ Dēcumbe mātūrē

Light a candle ¦ Accende candēlam

Put out the candle ¦ Extingue candēlam

Sweep the chamber-floor ¦ Verre solum cubiculī

Brush my coat ¦ Verre tunicam

Doff you [doff: take off (clothes); get undressed] ¦ Exue vestēs

Don you [dress yourself; get dressed] ¦ Indue tē

  • accendo, accendere [3]: light (a fire)
  • dēcumbō, dēcumbere [3]: lie down; recline
  • extinguō, extinguere [3]: put out (a fire)
  • exuō, exuere [3]: take off
  • induō, induere [3]: put on
  • verrō, verrere [3]: brush; sweep up / out

And so, if your teenage son or daughter has an untidy bedroom, you can say “Verre solum cubiculī!” and know that the Latin teachers of the mid-17th century were saying it to their pupils!

And the bizarre letter that looks like an /f/ is a seventeenth century /s/.








 

23.03.24: Asking for directions; irregular verb volō, velle (want)

We can use the topic of directions to do further practice in command forms and learn some new verbs and phrases.

[1] Asking where something is

[dīc mihi [dative] ... Tell me [Say to me]

  • dīc mihi, quaesō, ... Tell me, please, …
  • dīc mihi, amābō tē, ... Tell me, please …

dīcō, dīcere [3]: say; tell. You need the command form which, in the singular, is a little irregular because it does not end in -e; the plural is regular

  • dīc! (talking to one person)
  • dīcite! (talking to more than one person)

quaesō, quaesere [3]: ask (for); seek, but here in the 1st person, it translates as ‘please’

amābō tē: it may sound odd but another way of saying ‘please’ literally means “I shall love you”.

  • Dīc mihi, quaesō, ubi est forum? Tell me, please, where is the market?
  • Dīc mihi, amābō tē, ubi sunt thermae? Tell me, please, where are the baths?

Think of other places in a town you already know in Latin. How would you ask where they are? Here are some examples:

  • amphitheātrum
  • fluvius
  • forum holitōrium
  • forum piscātōrium
  • taberna lībrāria
  • tabernae
  • templum
  • thermopōlium

[2] Asking if something is nearby:

“Cōnsulis castra in propinquō sunt” (Livy): The consul’s camp is near (at hand).

“Vīcī erant in propinquō.” (Curtius Rufus): There were villages near by.

  • Estne in propinquō caupōna? Is there a pub around here?

[3] How to say that you want to go somewhere.

Here we can look at a new and important irregular verb: vōlō, velle: want

  1. volō: I want
  2. vīs: you (sg.) want
  3. vult: he / she / it wants
  4. volumus: we want
  5. vultis: you (pl.) want
  6. volunt: they want

The verb functions in the same way as English i.e. if you say that you want to do something, then what you want to do is in the infinitive. Although Latin word order is flexible, stick to the pattern of putting the main verb at the end:

  • Domum īre volōI want to go home.
  • Rōmam īre volō. I want to go to Rome.
  • In Ītaliam īre volō. I want to go to Italy.

You can see that there are different ways of expressing ‘to’:

There are a handful of words, including domus that don’t need a preposition; the accusative alone is enough.

Place names e.g. Rōma also don’t require a preposition; again, the accusative is enough: Rōmam (to Rome)

  • In Ītaliam īre volō: Italy’s a pretty big place and so you go ‘into’ it! And you would do the same with the names of other countries.
  • Ad Ītaliam navigāre volō: I want to sail to Italy i.e. towards it, in the direction of it

The preposition may vary depending on precisely what you want to say, but with most places you can simply use ad + accusative.

  • Ad tabernam īre volō. I want to go to the shop.
  • Ad forum īre volō. I want to go to the market.
  • Vīsne ad forum īre? Do you want to go to the market?
  • Volō illūc īre. I want to go (to) there. [illūc is an adverb meaning ‘to there’ or ‘to that place’]

In the next post, with the help of Plautus, we’ll look at how you give directions.

  • Ī … ī ad forum” (Plautus). Go …go to the forum!