Ashlyn Tollison

furman university

Apuleius: Metamorphoses 5.28./ Ashlyn Tollison

Ashlyn Tollison /
  • Created on 2021-11-17 02:13:17
  • Modified on 2021-11-17 22:51:51
  • Translated by Ruden vs. A.S. Kline
  • Aligned by Ashlyn Tollison
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he’s with trash in the mountains , while she splashes in the sea , and that’s why there’s no pleasure or charm or wit left in the world ; book 5•111everything is tasteless , uncouth , and coarse . There are no bonds of matrimony or friendship any more , and no cherished children , but instead a big lake of muck , with only these disgusting- nasty- dirty kinds of relationships . " This is what that garrulous , officious bird whispered in Venus’s ear , taking her offspring down several pegs in her estimation . Venus was good and furious , and burst out : ‘So that fine son of mine has a girlfriend ? Come on , spit it out—since you’re the only servant I have who cares about me . Tell me the name of that child molester . My son doesn’t know what’s what—he’s under age ! Maybe she’s in that tribe of nymphs , or that squad of Hours , or maybe the Muses’ choir , or she’s one of my Graces ,
ille quidem montano scortatu , tu vero marino natatu secesseritis ac per hoc non voluptas ulla , non gratia , non lepos , sed incompta et agrestia et horrida cuncta sint , non nuptiae coniugales , non amicitiae sociales , non liberum caritates , sed enormis eluvies et squalentium foederum insuave fastidium . " Haec illa verbosa et satis curiosa avis in auribus Veneris , filii lacerans existimationem , ganniebat : at Venus irata solidum exclamat repente : " Ergo iam ille bonus filius meus habet amicam aliquam ! Prome agedum , quae sola mihi servis amanter , nomen eius quae puerum ingenuum et investem sollicitavit , sive illa de Nympharum populo seu de Horarum numero seu de Musarum choro vel de mearum Gratiarum ministerio .
he to dally in the mountains , she to sport in the sea ; that all delight , grace and charm was gone ; that all was boorish , rough , unkempt ; no nuptial rites , no friendly gatherings , no love of children ; only a vast confusion , and a squalid disregard for the chafing bonds of marriage . So that loquacious , meddlesome bird cackled on in Venus’ ear , tearing her son to shreds before her eyes . Venus at once grew angry , crying : " So now that fine son of mine has a girlfriend has he ? Come tell me then , my only loving servant , the name of the creature that’s seduced a simple innocent child , Is she one of the host of Nymphs , or the troop of Hours , or the Muses’ choir , or my own companions the Graces ? "

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