Aestus erat, mediamque dies exegerat horam;
adposui medio membra levanda toro.
pars adaperta fuit, pars altera clausa fenestrae;
quale fere silvae lumen habere solent,
qualia sublucent fugiente crepuscula Phoebo,
aut ubi nox abiit, nec tamen orta dies.
illa verecundis lux est praebenda puellis,
qua timidus latebras speret habere pudor.
It was hot, and the day had passed its middle hour; I laid my limbs down to rest on my bed. Part of the window was open, part was closed; like the kind of light woods usually have, like twilight glimmers when Phoebus is fleeing, or when night has departed but day has not yet risen. That light is suitable for modest girls, where timid modesty might hope to find hiding places.
This passage explores Roman attitudes toward feminine modesty (pudor), a crucial virtue in ancient Roman society. The imagery of half-light and concealment reflects the cultural expectations placed on well-bred Roman women, particularly young unmarried girls (puellae), who were expected to maintain a demure and modest demeanor.
The description of light conditions serves both a practical and metaphorical purpose. Practically, Roman homes often managed light through adjustable window coverings, as glass windows were rare and expensive. Metaphorically, the half-light represents the ideal state of feminine visibility in Roman society - neither completely hidden nor fully exposed.
The concept of pudor was central to Roman morality, especially for women of the upper classes. It encompassed not just sexual modesty but also proper behavior, dress, and social conduct. The poet’s appreciation of the dim light’s ability to provide “hiding places” for modesty reflects the Roman preoccupation with maintaining appropriate boundaries between public and private life, particularly for women.
ecce, Corinna venit, tunica velata recincta,
candida dividua colla tegente coma—
qualiter in thalamos famosa Semiramis isse
dicitur, et multis Lais amata viris.
Deripui tunicam—nec multum rara nocebat;
pugnabat tunica sed tamen illa tegi.
quae cum ita pugnaret, tamquam quae vincere nollet,
victa est non aegre proditione sua.
Look, Corinna comes, veiled in an ungirt tunic, her fair neck covered by parted hair—just as the famous Semiramis is said to have gone to her chambers, and Lais, beloved by many men. I tore off her tunic—the thin fabric wasn’t much hindrance; yet she fought to stay covered by the tunic. Though she fought thus, like one who didn’t wish to win, she was conquered without difficulty by her own betrayal.
The passage draws on complex literary and cultural references to frame an erotic encounter. Semiramis was a legendary Assyrian queen known for her beauty and sexual appetite, while Lais was a famous courtesan of Corinth whose name became synonymous with sophisticated courtesans. These comparisons elevate the scene by placing it within a tradition of famous seductions.
The description of clothing is significant. The tunica recincta (ungirt tunic) was considered improper dress for a Roman woman - normally, the tunic would be belted to provide proper shape and modesty. The thin, loose fabric (rara) suggests a expensive, possibly imported material like silk or fine linen, marking Corinna as a woman of means. The parted hair covering her neck presents another sensual detail, as a woman’s neck was considered particularly alluring in Roman culture.
The mock battle that follows employs the common literary trope of militia amoris (love as warfare), but with a knowing wink at the convention of “token resistance” - the woman’s apparent reluctance that actually signals consent. This complex interplay of resistance and acquiescence reflects Roman attitudes about female sexuality, where direct expression of desire was considered unbecoming.
ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros,
in toto nusquam corpore menda fuit.
quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos!
forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi!
quam castigato planus sub pectore venter!
quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur!
As she stood before my eyes with her covering removed, there was not a flaw anywhere on her whole body. What shoulders, what arms I saw and touched! How suitable for caressing was the shape of her breasts! How flat her stomach beneath her trim chest! What size and beauty of hip! How youthful her thigh!
The passage presents a male gaze assessment of the female form that reflects Roman aesthetic ideals. The systematic head-to-toe description (shoulders to thighs) follows conventions of ancient erotic poetry, but also mirrors artistic practices in sculpture where proportional perfection was paramount.
The emphasis on physical flawlessness (nusquam menda) reflects both literary convention and actual Roman beauty standards. Women of means used various cosmetics and treatments to maintain smooth, unblemished skin. The “trim” chest (castigato pectore) and flat stomach (planus venter) indicate an ideal of controlled, athletic femininity rather than softness - quite different from some later European ideals of feminine beauty.
The term lacertus specifically refers to the upper arm, considered an especially attractive feature when well-formed. The attention to the firmness of the breasts (papillarum) and youthfulness of the thigh (iuvenale femur) emphasizes the subject’s youth and fertility, key components of Roman concepts of female beauty.
Singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi
et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum.
Cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo.
proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies!
Why should I describe each detail? I saw nothing that wasn’t praiseworthy, and I pressed her naked body against my own. Who doesn’t know the rest? We both rested, exhausted. May such middays often come to me!
The deliberate discretion shown in this erotic scene (“Cetera quis nescit?”) reflects Roman literary conventions about explicit sexual content. While Romans weren’t prudish about sexuality, educated poetry maintained certain boundaries of taste and decorum. The rhetorical questions engage the reader while tactfully drawing a veil over the more intimate details.
The mention of midday (medii dies) places this encounter during the traditional Roman siesta time, when businesses closed and people retired to their homes during the hottest part of the day. This timing was practical for assignations, as it was normal for people to be in bed at this hour, and the usual activities of daily life were suspended.
The final line’s optative subjunctive (proveniant) transforms a personal experience into a prayer-like wish, a common poetic device that elevates the mundane to the realm of divine favor. This reflects the Roman tendency to find religious resonance even in thoroughly human activities.