The Golden Ass (Midland Books No 36) - Softcover

Apuleius, Lucius; Apuleius

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0253200369 ISBN 13: 9780253200365

Verlag: Indiana University Press, 1962

Inhaltsangabe

A frank and vivid modern version of one of the most diverting of all classics. Lindsay’s translation captures the genuine flavor, sharp dialogue, outrageous humor, racy delight and subtle style of Apuleius’ sophisticated masterpiece.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Apuleius

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The Golden Ass

By Apuleius, Jack Lindsay

Indiana University Press

Copyright © 1960 Jack Lindsay
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-253-20036-5

CHAPTER 1

BOOK THE FIRST

Business directed me into Thessaly. For it was from Thessaly that my mother's family originated, the line being traced back to Plutarchus, – that notable man, and Sextus, his philosophic nephew – a genealogy highly honourable to us. After I had traversed the tops of mountains and the slides of valleys, the dews of the grass and the furrows of the fields, I noticed that my horse, a milk-white thoroughbred of the country, was somewhat blown. Feeling sore from the ride myself, I leaped out of the saddle, to shake the stiffness from my limbs by walking. I carefully wiped the sweat from the horse with a handful of greenery, and stroked his ears, and unbridled him, and walked him along at a quiet pace to give nature a chance to muster her usual resources.

And now while the horse, bending down his head and sideways crunching the grass, was engaged in this ambling breakfast, I saw a short way ahead two fellow-travellers, with whom I presently made a third. I pricked up my ears to learn the theme of their conversation, when one of them with a pointed laugh explained, 'Enough of this. Please don't tell me any more such ridiculous monstrous lies.'

At this I, always thirsty for every sip of novelty, interrupted, 'Excuse me, but I should like very much to be informed what you are discussing – not because I mean to pry, but because I want to know everything in the world ... or at least a good part of it. Besides, a light gay-tale will carry us more smoothly over the ruggedness of this hill that we are just ascending.'

The man who had laughed answered me, 'This fabrication is about as true as if a man should choose to assert that mutterings of magic can make swift rivers run backwards, the ripples be flattened out of the sea, the winds dribble and die, the sun stop dead, the moon drop her venomfoam1 upon the earth, the stars be plucked-out, day vanish, and night fall over all things.'

I replied to this in rather a confident tone, 'Come on, you the story-teller, don't feel sorry you've started, and don't flinch at going on.' And turning to the other, I said, 'But for you, sir, with the dense ears and the firm prejudice, you are rejecting a story which may very well be true. By Hercules, you are ignorant that man's debased intelligence calls all those matters lies which are either seldom seen or heard, or which exist on heights beyond the narrow cast of his reason. And yet if you probe these matters closely, you will find them not only understandable and clear, but even easily beheld. Why, last evening I was trying to out-eat the others who were with me at supper, and I took a large bite at a barley-cheesecake in my hurry. It was so soft and glutinous that it stuck in the bottom of my windpipe and all but choked me. And yet not long ago at Athens, before the Porch named the Poecile, I saw with these identical two eyes a juggler who swallowed a horseman's sharp double-edged broadsword, tip-first, right down to the hilt-and then, for a few miserable coppers, he rammed home a hunting-spear until he had the point with all its deadly threat buried deep in his entrails. But you should have seen our gapes of surprise when over the spear blade, about the place towards the back of the head where the weapon had been shoved in down his throat, there climbed a pretty little boy, who wriggled and turned about as if he hadn't any bone or gristle in his body. He looked like that noble Serpent which clings with slippery coils to the knotted staff, with its half-clipped twigs, that the God of Physic bears. So, you that were telling the story, begin anew. I shall believe you, even if your friend won't, and in return for your trouble I should like you to dine with me at the first inn we encounter.'

The man replied, 'Thanks. It's a fair offer and I'll be pleased to begin my story all over again for you. And first I swear to you by the light of this Sun, the all-seeing God, that every word I relate is my true experience. Indeed, you won't have any doubt left when you come to the next Thessalian city. You'll find the tale on everybody's lips there, for the events are publicly known.'

The Tale of Aristomenes

First, as to who and what I am – I am from Aegina – and as to my business, I travel the country in every direction through Thessaly and Aetolia and Boeotia, to buy honey and cheese and other foodstuffs for retail to the shopkeepers. Now, hearing that at Hypata, the capital of Thessaly, there were available fresh cheeses of a particularly fine flavour at a very moderate rate, I dashed off to see if I couldn't snap up the whole market.

But – the usual bad luck – I'd put my worst foot forward, for Lupus, a wholesale merchant, had cleared the stock on the day before. I was fatigued by the unprofitable speed of my journey; and so, early in the evening, I proceeded to the baths. There, whom did I see but my old comrade Socrates. He was sitting on the ground, barely covered with a ragged apology for a cloak, almost wanned into another man, and so disfigured by emaciation that he looked like one of those parings of fortune who whine for alms at street corners. I was still in doubt as I approached him, although he had once been a bosom friend and daily companion.

'My Socrates,' I cried, 'what does this mean? this change! What is your sin? Lord, how you've been lamented at home. You're counted as dead. The provincial magistrate has appointed guardians for your children; and now that your wife has completed her mourning-period – wasted away she was by grievous and continual sorrow, and her eyes all but wept into utter blindness – she is being solicited by her parents to brighten up the benighted house with the pleasures of a new marriage. And here you rise up like a ghastly ghost to the unseemly confusion of our plans.'

'Aristomenes,' he answered, 'now I see indeed that you are unaware of the sliddery twists, the freakish whirligigs, the ceaseless vicissitudes of Fortune.'

And with that he hid his face, which was blushing for shame, in his darned patch-work cloak, leaving his body naked from the navel downwards. I couldn't bear to see this spectacle of calamitous misery another moment-I caught hold of him and tried to lift him from the ground. But, with his face still hidden, he wailed, 'Leave me alone, leave me alone. Let Fortune still gloat over the trophy she has erected.'

However, I compelled him to follow me. I pulled off one of my two garments and clothed – or rather covered him – and haled him at once to a bath. There I took on myself the jobs of anointing and scrubbing him. Diligently I peeled off the scurf of dirt; and then, having tended him properly, tottering with my own weariness, I supported his debilitated steps till we reached my inn. I laid him to rest on a bed, I filled him with food, I slaked him with wine, and I soothed him with the news. At last our conversation began to flow freely, and we bandied jests and witticisms. Our banter was going fast and furious, when he fetched a tormented sigh from the depths of his breast and beat his forehead with demented fist.

'Wretch that I am,' he cried, 'I rushed eagerly to see some widely canvassed Gladiatorial Games, and I fell into this Misfortune. For as you know very well, I had gone on a business-trip to Macedonia, and I was on my way back, flush with cash, after having been detained there some ten months. Well, just before I came to Larissa, while making a detour to bring these...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Indiana University Press
• Erscheinungsdatum: 1962
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0253200369
• ISBN 13: 9780253200365
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 256
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland