1. Hebrew Bible, Exodus, 11.7 (9th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
Tagged with subjects: • animals, fish, and birds • fish • fish, heart
Found in books: Gera (2014) 364; Toloni (2022) 55
11.7. וּלְכֹל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל לֹא יֶחֱרַץ־כֶּלֶב לְשֹׁנוֹ לְמֵאִישׁ וְעַד־בְּהֵמָה לְמַעַן תֵּדְעוּן אֲשֶׁר יַפְלֶה יְהוָה בֵּין מִצְרַיִם וּבֵין יִשְׂרָאֵל׃''. None | 11.7. But against any of the children of Israel shall not a dog whet his tongue, against man or beast; that ye may know how that the LORD doth put a difference between the Egyptians and Israel.''. None |
|
2. Hebrew Bible, Numbers, 27.8 (9th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
Tagged with subjects: • animals, fish, and birds • fish
Found in books: Gera (2014) 259; Toloni (2022) 49
27.8. וְאֶל־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל תְּדַבֵּר לֵאמֹר אִישׁ כִּי־יָמוּת וּבֵן אֵין לוֹ וְהַעֲבַרְתֶּם אֶת־נַחֲלָתוֹ לְבִתּוֹ׃''. None | 27.8. And thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel, saying: If a man die, and have no son, then ye shall cause his inheritance to pass unto his daughter.''. None |
|
3. Hebrew Bible, Psalms, 147.5 (9th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • animals, fish, and birds
Found in books: Gera (2014) 465; Stuckenbruck (2007) 463
147.5. גָּדוֹל אֲדוֹנֵינוּ וְרַב־כֹּחַ לִתְבוּנָתוֹ אֵין מִסְפָּר׃''. None | 147.5. Great is our Lord, and mighty in power; His understanding is infinite.''. None |
|
4. Anon., Sibylline Oracles, 8.217 (1st cent. BCE - 5th cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish
Found in books: Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 329; Lampe (2003) 29
| 8.217. Thrice blessed was, even four times happy man.''. None |
|
5. New Testament, John, 1.14, 21.9-21.11 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • eucharistia/eucharist, with fish • fish
Found in books: Berglund Crostini and Kelhoffer (2022) 399, 401; Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 331, 336, 344; McGowan (1999) 127, 128, 132
1.14. Καὶ ὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο καὶ ἐσκήνωσεν ἐν ἡμῖν, καὶ ἐθεασάμεθα τὴν δόξαν αὐτοῦ, δόξαν ὡς μονογενοῦς παρὰ πατρός, πλήρης χάριτος καὶ ἀληθείας·?̔
21.9. Ὡς οὖν ἀπέβησαν εἰς τὴν γῆν βλέπουσιν ἀνθρακιὰν κειμένην καὶ ὀψάριον ἐπικείμενον καὶ ἄρτον. 21.10. λέγει αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς Ἐνέγκατε ἀπὸ τῶν ὀψαρίων ὧν ἐπιάσατε νῦν. 21.11. ἀνέβη οὖν Σίμων Πέτρος καὶ εἵλκυσεν τὸ δίκτυον εἰς τὴν γῆν μεστὸν ἰχθύων μεγάλων ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα τριῶν· καὶ τοσούτων ὄντων οὐκ ἐσχίσθη τὸ δίκτυον.' '. None | 1.14. The Word became flesh, and lived among us. We saw his glory, such glory as of the one and only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.
21.9. So when they got out on the land, they saw a fire of coals there, and fish laid on it, and bread. 21.10. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish which you have just caught."' "21.11. Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land, full of great fish, one hundred fifty-three; and even though there were so many, the net wasn't torn. " '. None |
|
6. New Testament, Mark, 8.1-8.9 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • eucharistia/eucharist, with fish • fish
Found in books: Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 331, 344; McGowan (1999) 127, 132
8.1. Ἐν ἐκείναις ταῖς ἡμέραις πάλιν πολλοῦ ὄχλου ὄντος καὶ μὴ ἐχόντων τί φάγωσιν, προσκαλεσάμενος τοὺς μαθητὰς λέγει αὐτοῖς 8.2. Σπλαγχνίζομαι ἐπὶ τὸν ὄχλον ὅτι ἤδη ἡμέραι τρεῖς προσμένουσίν μοι καὶ οὐκ ἔχουσιν τί φάγωσιν· 8.3. καὶ ἐὰν ἀπολύσω αὐτοὺς νήστεις εἰς οἶκον αὐτῶν, ἐκλυθήσονται ἐν τῇ ὁδῷ· καί τινες αὐτῶν ἀπὸ μακρόθεν εἰσίν. 8.4. καὶ ἀπεκρίθησαν αὐτῷ οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ ὅτι Πόθεν τούτους δυνήσεταί τις ὧδε χορτάσαι ἄρτων ἐπʼ ἐρημίας; 8.5. καὶ ἠρώτα αὐτούς Πόσους ἔχετε ἄρτους; οἱ δὲ εἶπαν Ἑπτά. 8.6. καὶ παραγγέλλει τῷ ὄχλῳ ἀναπεσεῖν ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς· καὶ λαβὼν τοὺς ἑπτὰ ἄρτους εὐχαριστήσας ἔκλασεν καὶ ἐδίδου τοῖς μαθηταῖς αὐτοῦ ἵνα παρατιθῶσιν καὶ παρέθηκαν τῷ ὄχλῳ. 8.7. καὶ εἶχαν ἰχθύδια ὀλίγα· καὶ εὐλογήσας αὐτὰ εἶπεν καὶ ταῦτα παρατιθέναι. 8.8. καὶ ἔφαγον καὶ ἐχορτάσθησαν, καὶ ἦραν περισσεύματα κλασμάτων ἑπτὰ σφυρίδας. 8.9. ἦσαν δὲ ὡς τετρακισχίλιοι. καὶ ἀπέλυσεν αὐτούς.''. None | 8.1. In those days, when there was a very great multitude, and they had nothing to eat, Jesus called his disciples to himself, and said to them, 8.2. "I have compassion on the multitude, because they have stayed with me now three days, and have nothing to eat. 8.3. If I send them away fasting to their home, they will faint on the way, for some of them have come a long way." 8.4. His disciples answered him, "From where could one satisfy these people with bread here in a deserted place?" 8.5. He asked them, "How many loaves do you have?"They said, "Seven." 8.6. He commanded the multitude to sit down on the ground, and he took the seven loaves. Having given thanks, he broke them, and gave them to his disciples to serve, and they served the multitude. 8.7. They had a few small fish. Having blessed them, he said to serve these also. 8.8. They ate, and were filled. They took up seven baskets of broken pieces that were left over. 8.9. Those who had eaten were about four thousand. Then he sent them away. ''. None |
|
7. New Testament, Matthew, 14.13-14.21, 15.32-15.39 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • fish
Found in books: Berglund Crostini and Kelhoffer (2022) 398, 399; Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 331, 344
14.13. Ἀκούσας δὲ ὁ Ἰησοῦς ἀνεχώρησεν ἐκεῖθεν ἐν πλοίῳ εἰς ἔρημον τόπον κατʼ ἰδίαν· καὶ ἀκούσαντες οἱ ὄχλοι ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ πεζῇ ἀπὸ τῶν πόλεων. 14.14. Καὶ ἐξελθὼν εἶδεν πολὺν ὄχλον, καὶ ἐσπλαγχνίσθη ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς καὶ ἐθεράπευσεν τοὺς ἀρρώστους αὐτῶν. 14.15. Ὀψίας δὲ γενομένης προσῆλθαν αὐτῷ οἱ μαθηταὶ λέγοντες Ἔρημός ἐστιν ὁ τόπος καὶ ἡ ὥρα ἤδη παρῆλθεν· ἀπόλυσον τοὺς ὄχλους, ἵνα ἀπελθόντες εἰς τὰς κώμας ἀγοράσωσιν ἑαυτοῖς βρώματα. 14.16. ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς εἶπεν αὐτοῖς Οὐ χρείαν ἔχουσιν ἀπελθεῖν· δότε αὐτοῖς ὑμεῖς φαγεῖν. 14.17. οἱ δὲ λέγουσιν αὐτῷ Οὐκ ἔχομεν ὧδε εἰ μὴ πέντε ἄρτους καὶ δύο ἰχθύας. 14.18. ὁ δὲ εἶπεν Φέρετέ μοι ὧδε αὐτούς. 14.19. καὶ κελεύσας τοὺς ὄχλους ἀνακλιθῆναι ἐπὶ τοῦ χόρτου, λαβὼν τοὺς πέντε ἄρτους καὶ τοὺς δύο ἰχθύας, ἀναβλέψας εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν εὐλόγησεν καὶ κλάσας ἔδωκεν τοῖς μαθηταῖς τοὺς ἄρτους οἱ δὲ μαθηταὶ τοῖς ὄχλοις. 14.20. καὶ ἔφαγον πάντες καὶ ἐχορτάσθησαν, καὶ ἦραν τὸ περισσεῦον τῶν κλασμάτων δώδεκα κοφίνους πλήρεις. 14.21. οἱ δὲ ἐσθίοντες ἦσαν ἄνδρες ὡσεὶ πεντακισχίλιοι χωρὶς γυναικῶν καὶ παιδίων.
15.32. Ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς προσκαλεσάμενος τοὺς μαθητὰς αὐτοῦ εἶπεν Σπλαγχνίζομαι ἐπὶ τὸν ὄχλον, ὅτι ἤδη ἡμέραι τρεῖς προσμένουσίν μοι καὶ οὐκ ἔχουσιν τί φάγωσιν· καὶ ἀπολῦσαι αὐτοὺς νήστεις οὐ θέλω, μή ποτε ἐκλυθῶσιν ἐν τῇ ὁδῷ. 15.33. καὶ λέγουσιν αὐτῷ οἱ μαθηταί Πόθεν ἡμῖν ἐν ἐρημίᾳ ἄρτοι τοσοῦτοι ὥστε χορτάσαι ὄχλον τοσοῦτον; 15.34. καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς Πόσους ἄρτους ἔχετε; οἱ δὲ εἶπαν Ἑπτά, καὶ ὀλίγα ἰχθύδια. 15.35. καὶ παραγγείλας τῷ ὄχλῳ ἀναπεσεῖν ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν 15.36. ἔλαβεν τοὺς ἑπτὰ ἄρτους καὶ τοὺς ἰχθύας καὶ εὐχαριστήσας ἔκλασεν καὶ ἐδίδου τοῖς μαθηταῖς οἱ δὲ μαθηταὶ τοῖς ὄχλοις. 15.37. καὶ ἔφαγον πάντες καὶ ἐχορτάσθησαν, καὶ τὸ περισσεῦον τῶν κλασμάτων ἦραν ἑπτὰ σφυρίδας πλήρεις. 15.38. οἱ δὲ ἐσθίοντες ἦσαν τετρακισχίλιοι ἄνδρες χωρὶς γυναικῶν καὶ παιδίων. 15.39. Καὶ ἀπολύσας τοὺς ὄχλους ἐνέβη εἰς τὸ πλοῖον, καὶ ἦλθεν εἰς τὰ ὅρια Μαγαδάν.''. None | 14.13. Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat, to a deserted place apart. When the multitudes heard it, they followed him on foot from the cities. 14.14. Jesus went out, and he saw a great multitude. He had compassion on them, and healed their sick. 14.15. When evening had come, his disciples came to him, saying, "This place is deserted, and the hour is already late. Send the multitudes away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves food." 14.16. But Jesus said to them, "They don\'t need to go away. You give them something to eat." 14.17. They told him, "We only have here five loaves and two fish." 14.18. He said, "Bring them here to me." 14.19. He commanded the multitudes to sit down on the grass; and he took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he blessed, broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave to the multitudes. 14.20. They all ate, and were filled. They took up twelve baskets full of that which remained left over from the broken pieces. 14.21. Those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
15.32. Jesus summoned his disciples and said, "I have compassion on the multitude, because they continue with me now three days and have nothing to eat. I don\'t want to send them away fasting, or they might faint on the way." 15.33. The disciples said to him, "Where should we get so many loaves in a deserted place as to satisfy so great a multitude?" 15.34. Jesus said to them, "How many loaves do you have?"They said, "Seven, and a few small fish." 15.35. He commanded the multitude to sit down on the ground; 15.36. and he took the seven loaves and the fish. He gave thanks and broke them, and gave to the disciples, and the disciples to the multitudes. 15.37. They all ate, and were filled. They took up seven baskets full of the broken pieces that were left over. 15.38. Those who ate were four thousand men, besides women and children. 15.39. Then he sent away the multitudes, got into the boat, and came into the borders of Magdala. ''. None |
|
8. Lucian, The Syrian Goddess, 45 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • fish • fish, bejeweled • fish, sacred • fish, that respond to human sounds
Found in books: Hitch (2017) 75; Rojas(2019) 109
| 45. There is too a lake in the same place, not far from the temple in which many sacred fishes of different kinds are reared. Some of these grow to a great size; they are called by names, and approach when called. I saw one of these ornamented with gold, and on its back fin a golden design was dedicated to the temple. I have often seen this fish, and he certainly carried this design.''. None |
|
9. Pliny The Younger, Letters, 2.17, 5.6. (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • fishing
Found in books: Hanghan (2019) 44; Hitch (2017) 44
| 2.17. To Gallus. You are surprised, you say, at my infatuation for my Laurentine estate, or Laurentian if you prefer it so. * You will cease to wonder when you are told the charms of the villa, the handiness of its site, and the stretch of shore it commands. It is seventeen miles distant from Rome, so that after getting through all your business, and without loss or curtailment of your working hours, you can go and stay there. It can be reached by more than one route, for the roads to Laurentum and Ostia both lead in the same direction, but you must branch off on the former at the eleventh, and on the latter at the fourteenth milestone. From both of these points onward the road is for the most part rather sandy, which makes it a tedious and lengthy journey if you drive, but if you ride it is easy going and quickly covered. The scenery on either hand is full of variety. At places the path is a narrow one with woods running down to it on both sides, at other points it passes through spreading meadows and is wide and open. You will see abundant flocks of sheep and many herds of cattle and horses, which are driven down from the high ground in the winter and grow sleek in a pasturage and a temperature like those of spring. The villa is large enough for all requirements, and is not expensive to keep in repair. At its entrance there is a modest but by no means mean-looking hall; then come the cloisters, which are rounded into the likeness of the letter D, and these enclose a smallish but handsome courtyard. They make a fine place of refuge in a storm, for they are protected by glazed windows and deep overhanging eaves. Facing the middle of the cloisters is a cheerful inner court, then comes a dining-room running down towards the shore, which is handsome enough for any one, and when the sea is disturbed by the south-west wind the room is just flecked by the spray of the spent waves. There are folding doors on all sides of it, or windows that are quite as large as such doors, and so from the two sides and the front it commands a prospect as it were of three seas, while at the back one can see through the inner court, the cloisters, the courtyard, then more cloisters and the hall, and through them the woods and the distant hills. A little farther back, on the left-hand side, is a spacious chamber; then a smaller one which admits the rising sun by one window and by another enjoys his last lingering rays as he sets, and this room also commands a view of the sea that lies beneath it, at a longer but more secure distance. An angle is formed by this chamber and the dining-room, which catches and concentrates the purest rays of the sun. This forms the winter apartments and exercise ground for my household. No wind penetrates thither except those which bring up rain-clouds and only prevent the place being used when they take away the fine weather. Adjoining this angle is a chamber with one wall rounded like a bay, which catches the sun on all its windows as he moves through the heavens. In the wall of this room I have had shelves placed like a library, which contains the volumes which I not only read, but read over and over again. Next to it is a sleeping chamber, through a passage supported by pillars and fitted with pipes which catch the hot air and circulate it from place to place, keeping the rooms at a healthy temperature. The remaining part of this side of the villa is appropriated to the use of my slaves and freedmen, most of the rooms being sufficiently well furnished for the reception of guests. On the other side of the building there is a nicely decorated chamber, then another room which would serve either as a large bed-chamber or a moderate sized dining-room, as it enjoys plenty of sunshine and an extensive sea-view. Behind this is an apartment with an ante-room, suitable for summer use because of its height, and for winter use owing to it sheltered position, for it is out of reach of all winds. Another room with an ante-room is joined to this by a common wall. Next to it is the cold bath room, a spacious and wide chamber, with two curved swimming baths thrown out as it were from opposite sides of the room and facing one another. They hold plenty of water if you consider how close the sea is. ** Adjoining this room is the anointing room, then the sweating room, and then the heating room, from which you pass to two chambers of graceful rather than sumptuous proportions. Attached to these is a warm swimming bath which everybody admires, and from it those who are taking a swim can command a view of the sea. Close by is the ball court, which receives the warmest rays of the afternoon sun; on one side a tower has been built with two sitting rooms on the ground floor, two more on the first floor, and above them a dining-room commanding a wide expanse of sea, a long stretch of shore, and the pleasantest villas of the neighbourhood. There is also a second tower, containing a bedroom which gets the sun morning and evening, and a spacious wine cellar and store-room at the back of it. On the floor beneath is a sitting-room where, even when the sea is stormy, you hear the roar and thunder only in subdued and dying murmurs. It looks out upon the exercise ground, which runs round the garden. This exercise ground has a border of boxwood, or rosemary where the box does not grow well - for box thrives admirably when it is sheltered by buildings, but where it is fully exposed to wind and weather and to the spray of the sea, though it stands at a great distance therefrom, it is apt to shrivel. On the inside ring of the exercise ground is a pretty and shady alley of vines, which is soft and yielding even to the bare foot. The garden itself is clad with a number of mulberry and fig-trees, the soil being especially suitable for the former trees, though it is not so kindly to the others. On this side, the dining-room away from the sea commands as fine a view as that of the sea itself. It is closed in behind by two day-rooms, from the windows of which can be seen the entrance to the villa from the road and another garden as rich as the first one but not so ornamental. Along its side stretches a covered portico, almost long enough for a public building. It has windows on both sides, most of them facing the sea; those looking on the garden are single ones, and less numerous than those on the other side, as every alternate window was left out. All these are kept open when it is a fine day and there is no wind; when the wind is high, the windows only on the sheltered side are opened and no harm is done. † In front of the portico is a terrace walk that is fragrant with violets. The portico increases the warmth of the sun by radiation, and retains the heat just as it keeps off and breaks the force of the north wind. Hence it is as warm in front as it is cool behind. In the same way it checks the south-west winds, and similarly with all winds from whatever quarter they blow - it tempers them and stops them dead. This is its charm in winter, but in summer it is even greater, for in the mornings its shade tempers the heat of the terrace walk, and in the afternoon the heat of the exercise ground and the nearest part of the garden, the shadows falling longer and shorter on the two sides respectively as the sun rises to his meridian and sinks to his setting. Indeed, the portico has least sunshine when the sun is blazing down upon its roof. Consequently it receives the west winds through its open windows and circulates them through the building, and so never becomes oppressive through the stuffy air remaining within it. At the head of the terrace and portico successively is a garden suite of rooms, my favourite spot and well worthy of being so. I had them built myself. In this is a sunny chamber which commands the terrace on one side, the sea on another, and the sun on both; besides an apartment which looks on the portico through folding doors and on the sea through a window. In the middle of the wall is a neat recess, which by means of glazed windows and curtains can either be thrown into the adjoining room or be cut off from it. It holds a couch and two easy-chairs, and as you lie on the couch you have the sea at your feet, the villa at your back, and the woods at your head, and all these views may be looked at separately from each window or blended into one prospect. Adjoining is a chamber for passing the night in or taking a nap, and unless the windows are open, you do not hear a sound either of your slaves talking, or the murmur of the sea, or the raging of the storms; nor do you see the flashes of the lightning or know that it is day. This deep seclusion and remoteness is due to the fact that an intervening passage separates the wall of the chamber from that of the garden, and so all the sound is dissipated in the empty space between. A very small heating apparatus has been fitted to the room, which, by means of a narrow trap-door, either diffuses or retains the hot air as may be required. Adjoining it is an ante-room and a chamber projected towards the sun, which the latter room catches immediately upon his rising, and retains his rays beyond mid-day though they fall aslant upon it. When I betake myself into this sitting-room, I seem to be quite away even from my villa, and I find it delightful to sit there, especially during the Saturnalia, when all the rest of the house rings with the merriment and shouts of the festival-makers; for then I do not interfere with their amusements, and they do not distract me from my studies. The convenience and charm of the situation of my villa have one drawback in that it contains no running water, but I draw my supply from wells or rather fountains, for they are situated at a high level. Indeed, it is one of the curious characteristics of the shore here that wherever you dig you find moisture ready to hand, and the water is quite fresh and not even brackish in the slightest degree, though the sea is so close by. The neighbouring woods furnish us with abundance of fuel, and other supplies we get from the colony of Ostia. The village, which is separated only by one residence from my own, supplies my modest wants; it boasts of three public baths, which are a great convenience, when you do not feel inclined to heat your own bath at home, if you arrive unexpectedly or wish to save time. The shore is beautified by a most pleasing variety of villa buildings, some of which are close together, while others have great intervals between them. They give the appearance of a number of cities, whether you view them from the sea or from the shore itself, and the sands of the latter are sometimes loosened by a long spell of quiet weather, or - as more often happens - are hardened by the constant beating of the waves. The sea does not indeed abound with fish of any value, but it yields excellent soles and prawns. Yet our villa provides us with plenty of inland produce and especially milk, for the herds come down to us from the pastures whenever they seek water or shade. Well, do you think that I have just reasons for living here, for passing my time here, and for loving a retreat for which your mouth must be watering, unless you are a confirmed town-bird? I wish that your mouth did water! If it did, the many great charms of my little villa would be enhanced in the highest degree by your company. Farewell. ' "
5.6.. To Domitius Apollinaris. I was charmed with the kind consideration which led you, when you heard that I was about to visit my Tuscan villa in the summer, to advise me not to do so during the season when you consider the district unhealthy. Undoubtedly, the region along the Tuscan coast is trying and dangerous to the health, but my property lies well back from the sea; indeed, it is just under the Apennines, which are the healthiest of our mountain ranges. However, that you may not have the slightest anxiety on my account, let me tell you all about the climatic conditions, the lie of the land, and the charms of my villa. It will be as pleasant reading for you as it is pleasant writing for me. In winter the air is cold and frosty The contour of the district is most beautiful. Picture to yourself an immense amphitheatre, such as only Nature can create, with a wide-spreading plain ringed with hills, and the summits of the hills themselves covered with tall and ancient forests. There is plentiful and varied hunting to be had. Down the mountain slopes there are stretches of timber woods, and among these are rich, deep-soiled hillocks - where if you look for a stone you will have hard work to find one - which are just as fertile as the most level plains, and ripen just as rich harvests, though later in the season. Below these, along the whole hillsides, stretch the vineyards which present an unbroken line far and wide, on the borders and lowest level of which comes a fringe of trees. Then you reach the meadows and the fields - fields which only the most powerful oxen and the stoutest ploughs can turn. The soil is so tough and composed of such thick clods that when it is first broken up it has to be furrowed nine times before it is subdued. The meadows are jewelled with flowers, and produce trefoil and other herbs, always tender and soft, and looking as though they were always fresh. For all parts are well nourished by never-failing streams, and even where there is most water there are no swamps, for the slope of the land drains off into the Tiber all the moisture that it receives and cannot itself absorb. The Tiber runs through the middle of the plain; it is navigable for ships, and all the grain is carried downstream to the city, at least in winter and spring. In summer the volume of water dwindles away, leaving but the name of a great river to the dried-up bed, but in the autumn it recovers its flood. You would be delighted if you could obtain a view of the district from the mountain height, for you would think you were looking not so much at earth and fields as at a beautiful landscape picture of wonderful loveliness. Such is the variety, such the arrangement of the scene, that wherever the eyes fall they are sure to be refreshed. My villa, though it lies at the foot of the hill, enjoys as fine a prospect as though it stood on the summit; the ascent is so gentle and easy, and the gradient so unnoticeable, that you find yourself at the top without feeling that you are ascending. The Apennines lie behind it, but at a considerable distance, and even on a cloudless and still day it gets a breeze from this range, never boisterous and rough, for its strength is broken and lost in the distance it has to travel. Most of the house faces south; in summer it gets the sun from the sixth hour, and in winter considerably earlier, inviting it as it were into the portico, which is broad and long to correspond, and contains a number of apartments and an old-fashioned hall. In front, there is a terrace laid out in different patterns and bounded with an edging of box; then comes a sloping ridge with figures of animals on both sides cut out of the box-trees, while on the level ground stands an acanthus-tree, with leaves so soft that I might almost call them liquid. Round this is a walk bordered by evergreens pressed and trimmed into various shapes; then comes an exercise ground, round like a circus, which surrounds the box-trees that are cut into different forms, and the dwarf shrubs that are kept clipped. Everything is protected by an enclosure, which is hidden and withdrawn from sight by the tiers of box-trees. Beyond is a meadow, as well worth seeing for its natural charm as the features just described are for their artificial beauty, and beyond that there stretches an expanse of fields and a number of other meadows and thickets. At the head of the portico there runs out the dining-room, from the doors of which can be seen the end of the terrace with the meadow and a good expanse of country beyond it, while from the windows the view on the one hand commands one side of the terrace and the part of the villa which juts out, and on the other the grove and foliage of the adjoining riding-school. Almost opposite to the middle of the portico is a summer-house standing back a little, with a small open space in the middle shaded by four plane-trees. Among them is a marble fountain, from which the water plays upon and lightly sprinkles the roots of the plane-trees and the grass plot beneath them. In this summer-house there is a bed-chamber which excludes all light, noise, and sound, and adjoining it is a dining-room for my friends, which faces upon the small court and the other portico, and commands the view enjoyed by the latter. There is another bed-chamber, which is leafy and shaded by the nearest plane-tree and built of marble up to the balcony; above is a picture of a tree with birds perched in the branches equally beautiful with the marble. Here there is a small fountain with a basin around the latter, and the water runs into it from a number of small pipes, which produce a most agreeable sound. In the corner of the portico is a spacious bed-chamber leading out of the dining-room, some of its windows looking out upon the terrace, others upon the meadow, while the windows in front face the fish-pond which lies just beneath them, and is pleasant both to eye and ear, as the water falls from a considerable elevation and glistens white as it is caught in the marble basin. This bed-chamber is beautifully warm even in winter, for it is flooded with an abundance of sunshine. The heating chamber for the bath adjoins it, and on a cloudy day we turn in steam to take the place of the sun's warmth. Next comes a roomy and cheerful undressing room for the bath, from which you pass into a cool chamber containing a large and shady swimming bath. If you prefer more room or warmer water to swim in, there is a pond in the court with a well adjoining it, from which you can make the water colder when you are tired of the warm. Adjoining the cold bath is one of medium warmth, for the sun shines lavishly upon it, but not so much as upon the hot bath which is built farther out. There are three sets of steps leading to it, two exposed to the sun, and the third out of the sun though quite as light. Above the dressing-room is a ball court where various kinds of exercise can be taken, and a number of games can be played at once. Not far from the bath-room is a staircase leading to a covered passage, at the head of which are three rooms, one looking out upon the courtyard with the four plane-trees, the second upon the meadow, and the third upon the vineyards, so each therefore enjoys a different view. At the end of the passage is a bed-chamber constructed out of the passage itself, which looks out upon the riding-course, the vineyards, and the mountains. Connected with it is another bed-chamber open to the sun, and especially so in winter time. Leading out of this is an apartment which adjoins the riding-course of the villa. Such is the appearance and the use to which the front of my house is put. At the side is a raised covered gallery, which seems not so much to look out upon the vineyards as to touch them; in the middle is a dining-room which gets the invigorating breezes from the valleys of the Apennines, while at the other side, through the spacious windows and the folding doors, you seem to be close upon the vineyards again with the gallery between. On the side of the room where there are no windows is a private winding staircase by which the servants bring up the requisites for a meal. At the end of the gallery is a bed-chamber, and the gallery itself affords as pleasant a prospect from there as the vineyards. Underneath runs a sort of subterranean gallery, which in summer time remains perfectly cool, and as it has sufficient air within it, it neither admits any from without nor needs any. Next to both these galleries the portico commences where the dining-room ends, and this is cold before mid-day, and summery when the sun has reached his zenith. This gives the approach to two apartments, one of which contains four beds and the other three, and they are bathed in sunshine or steeped in shadow, according to the position of the sun. But though the arrangements of the house itself are charming, they are far and away surpassed by the riding-course. It is quite open in the centre, and the moment you enter your eye ranges over the whole of it. Around its borders are plane-trees clothed with ivy, and so while the foliage at the top belongs to the trees themselves, that on the lower parts belongs to the ivy, which creeps along the trunk and branches, and spreading across to the neighbouring trees, joins them together. Between the plane-trees are box shrubs, and on the farther side of the shrubs is a ring of laurels which mingle their shade with that of the plane-trees. At the far end, the straight boundary of the riding-course is curved into semi-circular form, which quite changes its appearance. It is enclosed and covered with cypress-trees, the deeper shade of which makes it darker and gloomier than at the sides, but the inner circles - for there are more than one - are quite open to the sunshine. Even roses grow there, and the warmth of the sun is delightful as a change from the cool of the shade. When you come to the end of these various winding alleys, the boundary again runs straight, or should I say boundaries, for there are a number of paths with box shrubs between them. In places there are grass plots intervening, in others box shrubs, which are trimmed to a great variety of patterns, some of them being cut into letters forming my name as owner and that of the gardener. Here and there are small pyramids and apple-trees, and now and then in the midst of all this graceful artificial work you suddenly come upon what looks like a real bit of the country planted there. The intervening space is beautified on both sides with dwarf plane-trees; beyond these is the acanthus-tree that is supple and flexible to the hand, and there are more boxwood figures and names. At the upper end is a couch of white marble covered with a vine, the latter being supported by four small pillars of Carystian marble. Jets of water flow from the couch through small pipes and look as if they were forced out by the weight of persons reclining thereon, and the water is caught in a stone cistern and then retained in a graceful marble basin, regulated by pipes out of sight, so that the basin, while always full, never overflows. The heavier dishes and plates are placed at the side of the basin when I dine there, but the lighter ones, formed into the shapes of little boats and birds, float on the surface and travel round and round. Facing this is a fountain which receives back the water it expels, for the water is thrown up to a considerable height and then falls down again, and the pipes that perform the two processes are connected. Directly opposite the couch is a bed-chamber, and each lends a grace to the other. It is formed of glistening marble, and through the projecting folding doors you pass at once among the foliage, while both from the upper and lower windows you look out upon the same green picture. Within is a little cabinet which seems to belong at once to the same and yet another bed-chamber. This contains a bed and it has windows on every side, yet the shade is so thick outside that very little light enters, for a wonderfully luxuriant vine has climbed up to the roof and covers the whole building. You can fancy you are in a grove as you lie there, only that you do not feel the rain as you do among trees. Here too a fountain rises and immediately loses itself underground. There are a number of marble chairs placed up and down, which are as restful for persons tired with walking as the bed-chamber itself. Near these chairs are little fountains, and throughout the whole riding-course you hear the murmur of tiny streams carried through pipes, which run wherever you please to direct them. These are used to water the shrubs, sometimes in one part, sometimes in another, and at other times all are watered together. I should long since have been afraid of boring you, had I not set out in this letter to take you with me round every corner of my estate. For I am not at all apprehensive that you will find it tedious to read about a place which certainly would not tire you to look at, especially as you can get a little rest whenever you desire, and can sit down, so to speak, by laying down the letter. Moreover, I have been indulging my affection for the place, for I am greatly attached to anything that is mainly the work of my own hands or that someone else has begun and I have taken up. In short - for there is no reason is there? why I should not be frank with you, whether my judgments are sound or unsound - I consider that it is the first duty of a writer to select the title of his work and constantly ask himself what he has begun to write about. He may be sure that so long as he keeps to his subject-matter he will not be tedious, but that he will bore his readers to distraction if he starts dragging in extraneous matter to make weight. Observe the length with which Homer describes the arms of Achilles, and Virgil the arms of Aeneas - yet in both cases the description seems short, because the author only carries out what he intended to. Observe how Aratus hunts up and brings together even the tiniest stars - yet he does not exceed due limits. For his description is not an excursus, but the end and aim of the whole work. It is the same with myself, if I may compare my lowly efforts with their great ones. I have been trying to give you a bird's eye view of the whole of my villa, and if I have introduced no extraneous matter and have never wandered off my subject, it is not the letter containing the description which is to be considered of excessive size, but rather the villa which has been described. However, let me get back to the point I started from, lest I give you an opportunity of justly condemning me by my own law, by not pursuing this digression any farther. I have explained to you why I prefer my Tuscan house to my other places at Tusculum, Tibur and Praeneste. For in addition to all the beauties I have described above, my repose here is more profound and more comfortable, and therefore all the freer from anxiety. There is no necessity to don the toga, no neighbour ever calls to drag me out; everything is placid and quiet; and this peace adds to the healthiness of the place, by giving it, so to speak, a purer sky and a more liquid air. I enjoy better health both in mind and body here than anywhere else, for I exercise the former by study and the latter by hunting. Besides, there is no place where my household keep in better trim, and up to the present I have not lost a single one of all whom I brought with me. I hope Heaven will forgive the boast, and that the gods will continue my happiness to me and preserve this place in all its beauty. Farewell. "'. None |
|
10. Tertullian, On Baptism, 1 (2nd cent. CE - 3rd cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • eucharistia/eucharist, with fish • fish
Found in books: Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 329, 330; McGowan (1999) 136; Vinzent (2013) 21
| 1. Happy is our sacrament of water, in that, by washing away the sins of our early blindness, we are set free and admitted into eternal life! A treatise on this matter will not be superfluous; instructing not only such as are just becoming formed (in the faith), but them who, content with having simply believed, without full examination of the grounds of the traditions, carry (in mind), through ignorance, an untried though probable faith. The consequence is, that a viper of the Cainite heresy, lately conversant in this quarter, has carried away a great number with her most venomous doctrine, making it her first aim to destroy baptism. Which is quite in accordance with nature; for vipers and asps and basilisks themselves generally do affect arid and waterless places. But we, little fishes, after the example of our &'. None |
|
11. None, None, nan (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • fish image, in Halieutica (Oppian) • pilot-fish
Found in books: Greensmith (2021) 289; Kneebone (2020) 105, 106, 107, 403
|
12. None, None, nan (4th cent. CE - 4th cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • fishing
Found in books: Hanghan (2019) 44; Hitch (2017) 44
|
13. None, None, nan (5th cent. CE - 5th cent. CE)
Tagged with subjects: • fishing
Found in books: Hanghan (2019) 44, 46, 50, 78, 80, 82; Hitch (2017) 44, 46, 50, 78, 80, 82
|
14. Anon., 4 Ezra, 6.52
Tagged with subjects: • Fish • Leviathan, as a huge fish
Found in books: Bull Lied and Turner (2011) 331, 334; Sneed (2022) 135
| 6.52. but to Leviathan thou didst give the seventh part, the watery part; and thou hast kept them to be eaten by whom thou wilt, and when thou wilt.''. None |
|
15. Vergil, Aeneis, 5.151-5.169, 5.171-5.243
Tagged with subjects: • fishing
Found in books: Hanghan (2019) 46; Hitch (2017) 46
5.151. Effugit ante alios primisque elabitur undis 5.152. turbam inter fremitumque Gyas; quem deinde Cloanthus 5.153. consequitur, melior remis, sed pondere pinus 5.154. tarda tenet. Post hos aequo discrimine Pristis 5.155. Centaurusque locum tendunt superare priorem; 5.157. Centaurus, nunc una ambae iunctisque feruntur 5.158. frontibus, et longa sulcant vada salsa carina. 5.159. Iamque propinquabant scopulo metamque tenebant, 5.160. cum princeps medioque Gyas in gurgite victor 5.161. rectorem navis compellat voce Menoeten: 5.162. Quo tantum mihi dexter abis? Huc dirige gressum; 5.163. litus ama, et laevas stringat sine palmula cautes; 5.164. altum alii teneant. Dixit; sed caeca Menoetes 5.165. saxa timens proram pelagi detorquet ad undas. 5.166. Quo diversus abis? iterum Pete saxa, Menoete! 5.167. cum clamore Gyas revocabat; et ecce Cloanthum 5.168. respicit instantem tergo, et propiora tenentem. 5.169. Ille inter navemque Gyae scopulosque sotes
5.171. praeterit, et metis tenet aequora tuta relictis. 5.172. Tum vero exarsit iuveni dolor ossibus ingens, 5.173. nec lacrimis caruere genae, segnemque Menoeten, 5.174. oblitus decorisque sui sociumque salutis, 5.175. in mare praecipitem puppi deturbat ab alta; 5.176. ipse gubernaclo rector subit, ipse magister, 5.177. hortaturque viros, clavumque ad litora torquet. 5.178. At gravis, ut fundo vix tandem redditus imo est, 5.179. iam senior madidaque fluens in veste Menoetes 5.180. summa petit scopuli siccaque in rupe resedit. 5.181. Ilium et labentem Teucri et risere natantem, 5.182. et salsos rident revomentem pectore fluctus. 5.183. Hic laeta extremis spes est accensa duobus, 5.184. Sergesto Mnestheique, Gyan superare morantem. 5.185. Sergestus capit ante locum scopuloque propinquat, 5.186. nec tota tamen ille prior praeeunte carina; 5.187. parte prior, partem rostro premit aemula Pristis. 5.188. At media socios incedens nave per ipsos 5.189. hortatur Mnestheus: Nunc, nunc insurgite remis, 5.190. Hectorei socii, Troiae quos sorte suprema 5.191. delegi comites; nunc illas promite vires, 5.192. nunc animos, quibus in Gaetulis Syrtibus usi, 5.193. Ionioque mari Maleaeque sequacibus undis. 5.194. Non iam prima peto Mnestheus, neque vincere certo; 5.195. quamquam O!—sed superent, quibus hoc, Neptune, dedisti; 5.196. extremos pudeat rediisse; hoc vincite, cives, 5.197. et prohibete nefas. Olli certamine summo 5.198. procumbunt; vastis tremit ictibus aerea puppis, 5.199. subtrahiturque solum; tum creber anhelitus artus 5.200. aridaque ora quatit, sudor fluit undique rivis. 5.201. Attulit ipse viris optatum casus honorem. 5.202. Namque furens animi dum proram ad saxa suburguet 5.203. interior, spatioque subit Sergestus iniquo, 5.204. infelix saxis in procurrentibus haesit. 5.205. Concussae cautes, et acuto in murice remi 5.206. obnixi crepuere, inlisaque prora pependit. 5.207. Consurgunt nautae et magno clamore morantur, 5.208. ferratasque trudes et acuta cuspide contos 5.209. expediunt, fractosque legunt in gurgite remos. 5.210. At laetus Mnestheus successuque acrior ipso 5.211. agmine remorum celeri ventisque vocatis 5.212. prona petit maria et pelago decurrit aperto. 5.213. Qualis spelunca subito commota columba, 5.214. cui domus et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi, 5.215. fertur in ana volans, plausumque exterrita pennis 5.216. dat tecto ingentem, mox aere lapsa quieto 5.217. radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas: 5.218. sic Mnestheus, sic ipsa fuga secat ultima Pristis 5.219. aequora, sic illam fert impetus ipse volantem. 5.220. Et primum in scopulo luctantem deserit alto 5.221. Sergestum, brevibusque vadis frustraque vocantem 5.222. auxilia, et fractis discentem currere remis 5.223. Inde Gyan ipsamque ingenti mole Chimaeram 5.224. consequitur; cedit, quoniam spoliata magistro est. 5.225. Solus iamque ipso superest in fine Cloanthus: 5.226. quem petit, et summis adnixus viribus urguet. 5.227. Tum vero ingeminat clamor, cunctique sequentem 5.228. instigant studiis, resonatque fragoribus aether. 5.229. Hi proprium decus et partum indigtur honorem 5.230. ni teneant, vitamque volunt pro laude pacisci; 5.231. hos successus alit: possunt, quia posse videntur. 5.232. Et fors aequatis cepissent praemia rostris, 5.233. ni palmas ponto tendens utrasque Cloanthus 5.234. fudissetque preces, divosque in vota vocasset: 5.235. Di, quibus imperium est pelagi, quorum aequora curro, 5.236. vobis laetus ego hoc candentem in litore taurum 5.237. constituam ante aras, voti reus, extaque salsos 5.238. porriciam in fluctus et vina liquentia fundam. 5.239. Dixit, eumque imis sub fluctibus audiit omnis 5.240. Nereidum Phorcique chorus Panopeaque virgo, 5.241. et pater ipse manu magna Portunus euntem 5.242. impulit; illa Noto citius volucrique sagitta 5.243. ad terram fugit, et portu se condidit alto.' '. None | 5.151. in the mid-circus; wreaths of laurel green, 5.152. the honored tripod, coronals of palm ' "5.153. for conquerors' brows, accoutrements of war, " '5.154. rare robes of purple stain, and generous weight ' "5.155. of silver and of gold. The trumpet's call " '5.157. First, side by side, with sturdy, rival oars, 5.158. four noble galleys, pride of all the fleet, 5.159. come forward to contend. The straining crew 5.160. of Mnestheus bring his speedy Pristis on, — 5.161. Mnestheus in Italy erelong the sire ' "5.162. of Memmius' noble line. Brave Gyas guides " '5.163. his vast Chimaera, a colossal craft, 5.164. a floating city, by a triple row 5.165. of Dardan sailors manned, whose banks of oars 5.166. in triple order rise. Sergestus, he 5.167. of whom the Sergian house shall after spring, 5.168. rides in his mighty Centaur. Next in line, 5.169. on sky-blue Scylla proud Cloanthus rides —
5.171. Fronting the surf-beat shore, far out at sea 5.172. rises a rock, which under swollen waves 5.173. lies buffeted unseen, when wintry storms 5.174. mantle the stars; but when the deep is calm, 5.175. lifts silently above the sleeping wave 5.176. its level field,—a place where haunt and play 5.177. flocks of the sea-birds, Iovers of the sun. 5.178. Here was the goal; and here Aeneas set 5.179. a green-leaved flex-tree, to be a mark ' "5.180. for every captain's eye, from whence to veer " '5.181. the courses of their ships in sweeping curves 5.182. and speed them home. Now places in the line 5.183. are given by lot. Upon the lofty sterns 5.184. the captains ride, in beautiful array 5.185. of Tyriao purple and far-flaming gold; 5.186. the crews are poplar-crowned, the shoulders bare 5.187. rubbed well with glittering oil; their straining arms 5.188. make long reach to the oar, as on the thwarts 5.189. they sit attentive, listening for the call 5.190. of the loud trumpet; while with pride and fear 5.191. their hot hearts throb, impassioned for renown. 5.192. Soon pealed the signal clear; from all the line 5.193. instant the galleys bounded, and the air 5.194. rang to the rowers, shouting, while their arms 5.195. pulled every inch and flung the waves in foam; 5.196. deep cut the rival strokes; the surface fair 5.197. yawned wide beneath their blades and cleaving keels. ' "5.198. Not swifter scour the chariots o'er the plain, " '5.199. ped headlong from the line behind their teams 5.200. of mated coursers, while each driver shakes 5.201. loose, rippling reins above his plunging pairs, ' "5.202. and o'er the lash leans far. With loud applause " '5.203. vociferous and many an urgent cheer 5.204. the woodlands rang, and all the concave shores 5.205. back from the mountains took the Trojan cry 5.206. in answering song. Forth-flying from his peers, ' "5.207. while all the crowd acclaims, sped Gyas' keel " '5.208. along the outmost wave. Cloanthus next 5.209. pushed hard upon, with stronger stroke of oars 5.210. but heavier ship. At equal pace behind 5.211. the Pristis and the Centaur fiercely strive 5.212. for the third place. Now Pristis seems to lead, 5.213. now mightier Centaur past her flies, then both 5.214. ride on together, prow with prow, and cleave 5.215. long lines of foaming furrow with swift keels. 5.216. Soon near the rock they drew, and either ship 5.217. was making goal,—when Gyas, in the lead, 5.218. and winner of the half-course, Ioudly hailed ' "5.219. menoetes, the ship's pilot: “Why so far " '5.220. to starboard, we? Keep her head round this way! 5.221. Hug shore! Let every oar-blade almost graze 5.222. that reef to larboard! Let the others take 5.223. the deep-sea course outside!” But while he spoke, 5.224. Menoetes, dreading unknown rocks below, 5.225. veered off to open sea. “Why steer so wide? 5.226. Round to the rock, Menoetes!” Gyas roared, — 5.227. again in vain, for looking back he saw 5.228. cloanthus hard astern, and ever nearer, 5.229. who, in a trice, betwixt the booming reef ' "5.230. and Gyas' galley, lightly forward thrust " '5.231. the beak of Scylla to the inside course, 5.232. and, quickly taking lead, flew past the goal 5.233. to the smooth seas beyond. Then wrathful grief ' "5.234. flamed in the warrior's heart, nor was his cheek " '5.235. unwet with tears; and, reckless utterly 5.236. of his own honor and his comrades, lives, 5.237. he hurled poor, slack Menoetes from the poop 5.238. headlong upon the waters, while himself, 5.239. pilot and master both, the helm assuming, 5.240. urged on his crew, and landward took his way. 5.241. But now, with heavy limbs that hardly won 5.242. his rescue from the deep, engulfing wave, 5.243. up the rude rock graybeard Menoetes climbed ' '. None |
|
16. None, None, nan
Tagged with subjects: • Fish, Jeffrey • fish
Found in books: Gordon (2012) 6, 32, 47, 90, 127, 134; Yona (2018) 27
|
