Fear

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  There was an old man somewhat bald, with long and gray haire, one of the number of those that go from door to door, throughout all the villages, bearing the Image of the goddesse Syria, and playing with Cimbals to get the almes of good and charitable folks, this old man came hastely towards the cryer, and demanded where I was bred: Marry (quoth he) in Cappadocia: Then he enquired what age I was of, the cryer answered as a Mathematician, which disposed to me my Planets, that I was five yeares old, and willed the old man to looke in my mouth: For I would not willingly (quoth he) incur the penalty of the law Cornelia, in selling a free Citizen for a servile slave, buy a Gods name this faire beast to ride home on, and about in the countrey: But this curious buier did never stint to question of my qualities, and at length he demanded whether I were gentle or no: Gentle (quoth the crier) as gentle as a Lambe, tractable to all use, he will never bite, he will never kicke, but you would rather thinke that under the shape of an Asse there were some well advised man, which verely you may easily conject, for if you would thrust your nose in his taile you shall perceive how patient he is: Thus the cryer mocked the old man, but he perceiving his taunts and jests, waxed very angry saying, Away doting cryer, I pray the omnipotent and omniparent goddesse Syria, Saint Sabod, Bellona, with her mother Idea, and Venus, with Adonis, to strike out both thine eies, that with taunting mocks hast scoffed me in this sort: Dost thou thinke that I will put a goddesse upon the backe of any fierce beast, whereby her divine Image should be throwne downe on the ground, and so I poore miser should be compelled (tearing my haire) to looke for some Physition to helpe her? When I heard him speake thus, I thought with my selfe sodainly to leap upon him like a mad Asse, to the intent he should not buy me, but incontinently there came another Marchant that prevented my thought, and offered 17 Pence for me, then my Master was glad and received the money, and delivered me to my new Master who was called Phelibus, and he caried his new servant home, and before he came to his house, he called out his daughters saying, Behold my daughters, what a gentle servant I have bought for you: then they were marvailous glad, and comming out pratling and shouting for joy, thought verely that he had brought home a fit and conveniable servant for their purpose, but when they perceived that it was an Asse, they began to provoke him, saying that he had not bought a servant for his Maidens, but rather an Asse for himselfe.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  THE THIRTIETH CHAPTER How the boy that lead Apuleius to the field, was slaine in the wood. While I devised with my selfe in what manner I might end my life, the roperipe boy on the next morrow lead me to the same hill againe, and tied me to a bow of a great Oke, and in the meane season he tooke his hatchet and cut wood to load me withall, but behold there crept out of a cave by, a marvailous great Beare, holding out his mighty head, whom when I saw, I was sodainly stroken in feare, and (throwing all the strength of my body into my hinder heeles) lifted up my strained head and brake the halter, wherewith I was tied. Then there was no need to bid me runne away, for I scoured not only on foot, but tumbled over the stones and rocks with my body till I came into the open fields, to the intent I would escape from the terrible Beare, but especially from the boy that was worse than the Beare. Then a certaine stranger that passed by the way (espying me alone as a stray Asse) tooke me up and roade upon my backe, beating me with a staffe (which he bare in his hand) through a wide and unknowne lane, whereat I was nothing displeased, but willingly went forward to avoid the cruell paine of gelding, which the shepherds had ordained for me, but as for the stripes I was nothing moved, since I was accustomed to be beaten so every day. But evill fortune would not suffer me to continue in so good estate long: For the shepheards looking about for a Cow that they had lost (after they had sought in divers places) fortuned to come upon us unwares, who when they espied and knew me, they would have taken me by the halter, but he that rode upon my backe resisted them saying, O Lord masters, what intend you to do? Will you rob me? Then said the shepheards, What? thinkest thou we handle thee otherwise then thou deservest, which hast stollen away our Asse? Why dost thou not rather tell us where thou hast hidden the boy whom thou hast slaine? And therewithall they pulled him downe to the ground, beating him with their fists, and spurning him with their feete. Then he answered unto them saying, that he saw no manner of boy, but onely found the Asse loose and straying abroad, which he tooke up to the intent to have some reward for the finding of him and to restore him againe to his Master. And I would to God (quoth he) that this Asse (which verely was never seene) could speake as a man to give witnesse of mine innocency: Then would you be ashamed of the injury which you have done to me. Thus (reasoning for Himselfe) he nothing prevailed, for they tied the halter about my necke, and (maugre his face) pulled me quite away, and lead me backe againe through the woods of the hill to the place where the boy accustomed to resort. And after they could find him in no place, at length they found his body rent and torne in peeces, and his members dispersed in sundry places, which I well knew was done by the cruell Beare: and verely I would have told it if I might have spoken, but (which I could onely do) I greatly rejoiced at his death, although it came too late. Then they gathered together the peeces of his body and buried them. By and by they laid the fault to my new Master, that tooke me up by the way, and (bringing him home fast bound to their houses) purposed on the next morrow to accuse him of murther, and to lead him before the Justices to have judgement of death.

• From Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture (2018)

  THE FIRST TIME I WENT TO THE CRISIS CENTER, I SAT WITH the intake nurse and together we googled the man who had assaulted me, if only so I could have the satisfaction of a single other person knowing his name, knowing what he looked like, and where he is now. She slowly keyed his name in the image search as I spelled it out for her, and there among the photos was his smiling, unassuming face. A man, not a monster. I slowly raised a finger to indicate to her which one of the many men he was in the collection of images on-screen. I had done this search by myself so many times, an obsessive action with the intent of self-protection, a rather futile way to ensure he was always far enough away from me, so that I could feel safe. I remember, with that photograph of him on her computer screen, she told me that she actually knew the names and faces of so many rapists—businessmen and journalists, professional athletes and real estate agents, husbands and fathers. That nurse, who books STD tests, helps clients through reporting to the police, and sets them up with mental health care, is also the keeper of so many women’s fiercely guarded secrets. She is an initial repository for their frantic fear and shame and is so often the only other person who will ever know what happened to them. She stayed with me in her tiny office until 10 p.m., long past when she was due to go home, to make sure that I was no threat to myself. I remember apologizing to her when I realized how late I had kept her there, and she laughed kindly. “There’s no better place for me to be than here with you,” she actually said. I REMEMBER THAT I SAID NO SIXTEEN TIMES AND I REMEMBER that he accused me of being fucking dramatic. They always do that. They do that before, when you refuse, and they do that during, when you protest, and they do that after, when you cry. I remember he told me not to be so emotional, told me to relax. Maybe he didn’t actually say the word fucking but my mind remembers it that way, as if the aggression of his profanity too makes my claim of violation more valid. As if swearing at me makes him a monster and not just a man. (We always need them to be monsters.) As if his profanity reinvents him for listeners as someone to be afraid of, just as he was reinvented for me in that moment. Just as I was reinvented.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  will Venus set, to make thee let fall but one of thy sops: and think not that the keeping of thy sops is a light matter, for if thou lose one of them thou shalt be assured never to return again to this world. For there is a great and marvellous dog with three heads, huge and horrid, barking continually at the souls of such as enter in, to frighten them with vain fear, by reason he can now do them no harm; he lieth day and night before the gate of Proserpina, and keepeth the desolate house of Pluto with great diligence: to whom, if thou cast one of thy sops, thou mayest have access to Proserpina without all danger: she will make thee good cheer, and bid thee sit soft, and entertain thee with delicate meat and drink, but sit thou upon the ground and desire brown bread and eat it, and then declare thy message unto her, and when thou hast received what she giveth, in thy return appease the rage of the deg with the other sop, and give thy other halfpenny to covetous Charon, and crossing his river come the same way again as thou wentest in to the upper world of the heavenly stars : but above all things have a regard that thou look not in the box; neither be not too curious about the treasure of the divine beauty. “In this manner the high tower prophetically spake unto Psyche, and advertised her what she should do: and immediately she took two half- pence, two sops, and all things necessary and went unto Taenarus to go towards. Hell, and thence passing down in silence by the lame ass, she paid her halfpenny for passage, neglected the desire of the dead old man in the river, denied to help the wily prayers of the women weaving, and filled the ravenous mouth of the dog with a sop, and came to the chamber of Proserpina. There Psyche would 277 21 LUCIUS APULEIUS

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  Which done, in great feare I rode through many Outwayes and desart places, and as culpable of the death of Socrates, I forsooke my countrey, my wife, and my children, and came to Etolia where I married another Wife. This tale told Aristomenus, and his fellow which before obstinatly would give no credit unto him, began to say, Verily there was never so foolish a tale, nor a more absurd lie told than this. And then he spake unto me saying, Ho sir, what you are I know not, but your habit and countenance declareth that you should be some honest Gentleman, (speaking to Apuleius) doe you beleeve this tale? Yea verily (quoth I), why not? For whatsoever the fates have appointed to men, that I beleeve shall happen. For may things chance unto me and unto you, and to divers others, which beeing declared unto the ignorant be accounted as lies. But verily I give credit unto his tale, and render entire thankes unto him, in that by the pleasant relation thereof we have quickly passed and shortned our journey, and I thinke that my horse was also delighted with the same, and hath brought me to the gate of this city without any paine at all. Thus ended both our talk and our journey, for they two turned on the left hand to the next villages, and I rode into the city. THE SIXTH CHAPTER How Apuleius came unto a city named Hipate, and was lodged in one Milos house, and brought him letters from one Demeas of Corinth.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  Now when I was alone, I rubbed myne eyes, and armed my selfe to keep the corpes, and to the intent I would not sleepe, I began to sing, and so I passed the time until it was midnight, when as behold there crept in a Wesel into the chamber, and she came against me and put me in very great feare, insomuch that I marvelled greatly at the audacity of so little a beast. To whom I said, get thou hence thou whore and hie thee to thy fellowes, lest thou feele my fingers. Why wilt thou not goe? Then incontinently she ranne away, and when she was gon, I fell on the ground so fast asleepe, that Apollo himself could not discern which of us two was the dead corps, for I lay prostrat as one without life, and needed a keeper likewise. At length the cockes began to crow, declaring that it was day: wherewithall I awaked, and being greatly afeard ran to the dead body with the lamp in my hand, and I viewed him round about: and immediately came in the matron weeping with her Witnesses, and ran to the corps, and eftsoons kissing him, she turned his body and found no part diminished. Then she willed Philodespotus her steward to pay me my wages forthwith. Which when he had done he sayd, We thanke you gentle young man for your paines and verily for your diligence herein we will account you as one of the family. Whereunto I (being joyous of by unhoped gaine, and ratling my money in my hand) did answer, I pray you madam esteeme me as one of your servants, and if you want my service at any time, I am at your commandement. I had not fully declared these words, when as behold all the servants of the house were assembled with weapons to drive me away, one buffeted me about the face, another about the shoulders, some strook me in the sides, some kicked me, and some tare my garments, and so I was handled amongst them and driven from the house, as the proud young man Adonis who was torn by a Bore. And when I was come into the next street, I mused with my selfe, and remembred myne unwise and unadvised words which I had spoken, whereby I considered that I had deserved much more punishment, and that I was worthily beaten for my folly. And by and by the corps came forth, which because it was the body of one of the chiefe of the city, was carried in funeral pompe round about the market place, according to the right of the countrey there.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  Wherefore I leaped into a garden which was behinde the stable, and being well nigh perished with hunger, although I could find nothing there but raw and green fallets, yet I filled my hungry guts therwithall abundantly, and praying unto all the gods, I looked about in every place if I could espy any red roses in the gardens by, and my solitary being alone did put me in good hope, that if I could find any remedy, I should presently of an Asse be changed into Lucius out of every mans sight. And while I considered these things, I loked about, and behold I saw a farre off a shadowed valley adjoyning nigh unto a wood, where amongst divers other hearbes and pleasant verdures, me thought I saw bright flourishing Roses of bright damaske colour; and said within my bestaill minde, Verily that place is the place of Venus and the Graces, where secretly glistereth the royall hew, of so lively and delectable a floure. Then I desiring the help of the guide of my good fortune, ranne lustily towards the wood, insomuch that I felt myself that I was no more an Asse, but a swift coursing horse: but my agility and quicknes could not prevent the cruelty of my fortune, for when I came to the place I perceived that they were no roses, neither tender nor pleasant, neither moystened with the heavenly drops of dew, nor celestial liquor, which grew out of the thicket and thornes there. Neither did I perceive that there was any valley at all, but onely the bank of the river, environed with great thick trees, which had long branches like unto lawrell, and bearing a flour without any manner of sent, and the common people call them by the name of Lawrel roses, which be very poyson to all manner of beasts. Then was I so intangled with unhappy fortune that I little esteemed mine own danger, and went willingly to eat of these roses, though I knew them to be present poyson: and as I drew neere I saw a yong man that seemed to be the gardener, come upon mee, and when he perceived that I had devoured all his hearbes in the garden, he came swearing with a great staffe in his hand, and laid upon me in such sort, that I was well nigh dead, but I speedily devised some remedy my self, for I lift up my legs and kicked him with my hinder heels, that I left him lying at the hill foot wel nigh slain, and so I ran away. Incontinently came out his wife, who seeing her husband halfe dead, cried and howled in pittifull sort, and went toward her husband, to the intent that by her lowd cries shee might purchase to me present destruction. Then all the persons of the town, moved by her noise came forth, and cried for dogs to teare me down. Out came a great company of Bandogs and mastifes, more fit to pul down bears and lions than me, whom when I beheld I thought verily I should presently die: but I turned myself about, and ranne as fast as ever I might to the stable from whence I came. Then the men of the towne called in their dogs, and took me and bound mee to the staple of a post, and scourged me with a great knotted whip till I was well nigh dead, and they would undoubtedly have slaine me, had it not come to passe, that what with the paine of their beating, and the greene hearbes that lay in my guts, I caught such a laske that I all besprinkled their faces with my liquid dung, and enforced them to leave off.

• From A Boy's Own Story (1982)

  My father chose a school for me merely because it was on the route between his winter and summer houses, a convenient stopover on the long trip for him. Right after Christmas he drove me to the deserted campus, the buildings shrouded in snow like chairs in holland cloth, the rectilinear paths treacherously iced over, the wide-open square, originally designed to resemble a piazza, now an arctic court where the snow played handball with itself, white sports whirling up off the pavement and racing to slam glittering explosions on brick walls tenoned in ice. The architecture of the school had been conceived by a famous Finn and built by an army of Scots who’d stayed on as gardeners and maintenance men (they outnumbered the teachers). The school was nothing but reminiscence—of an Italian hill town, a French abbey, an English academy, the different sources improbably but convincingly melded into a fantasy about the classic sites of Europe as imagined by exiles from cold peripheral lands, nostalgia for someone else’s past. Because the school was a fantasy and not a reality, its architecture alternated as in a dream between vague, featureless expanses of wall, the ectoplasmic surround of the action, and by contrast the places the dreamer looks at, concentrates on: maniacally detailed ornaments, chiseled gargoyle heads peering down out of the odd niche, tiled Moorish arches framing a rose garden, scriptural and classical mottoes spelled out in stone along the backs of benches. Those benches circled a deep basin surmounted by a fountain as wide as a barber pole and much taller on which was balanced a stone pineapple that expressed, depending on how literally one took the conceit, either juice or water. The headmaster of Eton (yes, the name, too, had been borrowed) was a great shaggy and strangely yellowed man. He wore tweeds and smoked a pipe and had pale, glutinous hands—really as sticky and shiny as the gluten in kneaded bread—and yellowing white hair that shot straight back from his liver-spotted brow and huge yellow teeth that looked useless for eating though effective enough for polite baring in interviews with intimidated parents. He was tall and unctuous and unintelligent and lived in a rambling “cottage” with fieldstone walls, low black eaves that curled back under on themselves like ingrown toenails, and leaded panes that rattled decoratively in the winter winds in front of solid, modern, cryptically sealed storm windows. He granted us a long interview in which he spoke of the need for “balance” in the training of a young mind and (looking appraisingly over the top of his glasses) of the young male body. A little later he found a way of mentioning again the sound mind that should go with the sound (raised eyebrows) body. I was terrified that what all this meant was more athletics for me, and it did.

• From The Divine Comedy (1950)

  C A N T O X X V I I Night had already fallen on the foot of the mountain when the angel of the circle greeted the Poets and pronounced the blessing on the pure in heart. When summoned to cross the flame Dante recalls with horror the sight he had ere now witnessed of men burned to death; and remains deaf to all Virgil’s appeals, till the utterance of Beatrice’s name at last overcomes his reluctance; whereat Virgil, for reasons of his own, smiles as we smile at a child that knows not what he seeks. Then Virgil, Dante and Statius enter the awful burning, Dante comforted by Virgil’s discourse of Beatrice and by the welcome and blessing of the angel at the further side. Meanwhile the shadow of night has been creeping up the mountain, and before they have ascended many of the steps which they are now climbing, it swallows the Poet’s shadow, and he is bereft of power further to ascend. Each of the pilgrims makes a stair his couch, and Dante, like a goat between two shepherds, sees the great stars shine brighter than their wont, as he drops into such a sleep as sees the things that are to be. Towards daybreak he has a vision of Leah, the type of the active life, singing of herself and her sister Rachel, the type of the contemplative life. Now nigh to his immediate goal, he awakes with the morning, and Virgil tells him that he is at last to gather that fruit of liberty which he has so long been seeking; and when he has mounted eagerly to the summit of the stair his guide informs him that his function is now discharged, for they have reached the goal of Purgatory. Dante has recovered from the dire effects of the fall of man; his will is free, unwarped and sound; he has no further need of direction or directive institutions; he has reached the goal of all imperial and ecclesiastical organization and is king and bishop of himself. AS WHEN he shoots forth his first beams there where his Creator shed his blood, while Ebro falls beneath the lofty Scales, and Ganges’ waves by noonday heat are scorched, so stood the sun; 1 wherefore the day was passing away when God’s glad angel 2 appeared to us. Outside the flames on the bank he was standing and singing “Beati mundo corde” 3 in a voice more piercing far than ours. Then: “No farther may ye go, O hallowed souls, if first the fire bite not; enter therein and to the singing beyond be not deaf,” he said to us when we were nigh to him; wherefore I became when I heard him, such as one who is laid in the grave. I bent forward over my clasped hands, gazing at the fire, and vividly imagining human bodies once seen burnt.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  18 *'Posthaec valefacto discessimus et portam civitatis egressi monumentum quoddam conspicamur procul a via remoto et abditoloco positum, — Ibi capulos carie et vetustate semitectos, quis inhabitabant pulverei et iam cinerosi mortui, passim ad futurae praedae receptacula reseramus et, ex disciplina sectae servato noctis inlunio tempore, quo somnus obvius impetu primo corda mortalium validius invadit ac premit, cohortem nostram gladiis armatam ante ipsas fores Democharis velut expilationis vadimonium sistimus. Nec setius Thrasyleon, examussim capto noctis latro- cinali momento, prorepit cavea statimque custodes, qui propter sopiti quiescebant omnes ad unum, mox etiam ianitorem ipsum gladio conficit, clavique sub- tracta fores ianuae repandit nobisque prompte convo- lantibus et domus alveo receptis demonstrat horreum : ubi vespera sagaciter argentum copiosum recondi viderat. Quo protinus perfracto confertae manus violentia, iubeo singulos commilitonum asportare quantum quisque poterat auri vel argenti, et in illis aedibus fidelissimorum mortuorum occultare propere rursumque concito gradu recurrentes sarcinas iterare : quod enim ex usu foret omnium, me solum resis- 170 THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK IV which is tired with the heat and his long journey, and to give him meat and drink at his due hour.’ Then he answered: ‘ Verily, masters, you need not to put yourselves to such pains: for I have men, yea, almost all my family of servants, that serve for nothing but for this purpose of tending bears.’

• From In the Unlikely Event (2015)

  When he looked up he saw bodies, still strapped into their seats, hanging from trees like puppets in some kind of sick show. By then the field had turned into a muddy, bloodstained junkyard. ChristinaIn the middle of the field Christina bent over a woman on the ground. “Please, girly, loosen my girdle. I can’t breathe.” Christina knew exactly how to do it—the hooks up the side, the stays. “My mother runs a girdle shop on Broad Street,” she told the woman. “Nia’s Lingerie—maybe you know it?” Why was she making small talk while the woman moaned? “My chest hurts. My legs are cold. Am I gonna die?” “No.” Christina tried to reassure her. She took off her coat and draped it over the woman, but when her eyes closed, when she lay so still Christina didn’t know if she was unconscious or dead, she ran for help and led back a fireman, who checked the woman’s pulse. “She’s alive,” he told Christina. “We’ll get her to the hospital.” He called for a stretcher and the woman was carried away, still draped in Christina’s winter coat. A small dog ran in circles, barking. “Fred?” Dear god, it was Fred, wearing the sweater she’d knitted for him! In all the horror, in all the chaos, Fred, the miracle dog, survived. She shivered in her clingy red top and held Fred tight to her chest, running with him to the Red Cross house across the street, slipping once, turning her ankle, getting wet and muddied. A miracle, too, that the Red Cross house wasn’t hit. Christina had to call her mother, who would be worrying, who wouldn’t know what was going on. Someone gave her a nickel for the phone booth. Someone else took Fred and handed her a blanket to drape over her shoulders. “I’ve been worried sick,” Mama said. “Where are you?” “Another plane crashed.” “What?” “On Westminster Avenue.” “Come home right now, Christina!” “No, I’m not coming home. They need help here. It’s terrible.” She heard whispering, then Baba got on the line. “We’re coming,” he told her. At the sound of her father’s voice, she choked up. “I’ll meet you at the Red Cross house. Ask Mama to bring my winter jacket, dungarees, a sweater, socks and boots.” Baba came with meats and cheeses and loaves of bread, huge jars of mayo, mustard, pickles and sweets from Three Brothers. Mama came with him, carrying a bag from Nia’s filled with Christina’s warm clothes. Christina fell into their arms. “Baba…Mama!” There was no time to ask who Christina had been with or how she had wound up here, or what she was doing out so late on a Sunday night in the first place. She was safe. For now, that was all they cared about. Christina helped them set up tables. “We’ll make sandwiches,” her mother said, more to herself than Christina. “Sandwiches for the rescue crews and the families who will come once they hear.

• From A Boy's Own Story (1982)

  She let out a shriek—a coquette’s shriek, I suppose, but edged with terror. (I was glad she didn’t see me, since I felt ashamed of the way our family had treated her.) I’d planned not to sleep at all but had set the alarm should I doze off. For hours I lay in the dark and listened to the dogs barking down in the valley. Now that I was leaving this house forever, I was tiptoeing through it mentally and prizing its luxuries—the shelves lined with blocks of identical cans (my father ordered everything by the gross); the linen cupboard stacked high with ironed if snuff-specked sheets; my own bathroom with its cupboard full of soap, tissue, towels, hand towels, washclothes; the elegant helix of the front staircase descending to the living room with its deep carpets, shaded lamps and the pretty mirror bordered by tiles on which someone with a nervous touch had painted the various breeds of lapdog. This house where I’d never felt I belonged no longer belonged to me, and the future so clearly charted for me—college, career, wife and white house wavering behind green trees—was being exchanged for that eternal circulating through the restaurant, my path as clear to me as chalk marks on the floor, instructions for each foot in the tango, lines that flowed together, branched and joined, branched and joined … In my dream my father had died but I refused to kiss him though next he was pulling me up onto his lap, an ungainly teen smeared with Vicks VapoRub whom everyone inexplicably treated as a sick child. When I silenced the alarm, fear overtook me. I’d go hungry! The boardinghouse room with the toilet down the hall, blood on the linoleum, Christ in a chromo, crepe-paper flowers—I dressed and packed my gym bag with the bottle of peroxide and two changes of clothes. Had my father gone to bed yet? Would the dog bark when I tried to slip past him? And would that man be on the corner? The boardinghouse room, yes, Negro music on the radio next door, the coquette’s shriek … As I walked down the drive I felt conspicuous under the blank windows of my father’s house and half expected him to open the never-used front door to call me back. I stood on the appointed corner. It began to drizzle but a water truck crept past anyway, spraying the street a darker, slicker gray. No birds were in sight but I could hear them testing the day. A dog without a collar or master trotted past.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  Then I, being thus handled by them and driven away, got me into a corner of the stable, where (while I remembered the uncourtesy of my colleagues, and how on the morrow I should return to Lucius by the help of a rose, and then revenge myself on my own horse) I fortuned to espy, on the midmost pillar sustaining the rafters of the stable, the image of the goddess Epona, in the midst thereof in a small shrine which was prettily garnished and decked round about with fair fresh roses; then in hope of a present remedy Lleaped up with my fore feet as high as I could, and stretching out my neck and lengthening my lips, I coveted exceedingly to snatch some roses. But in an 1 The patron goddess of horses and stables. : 139 LUCIUS APULEIUS agnito salutari praesidio, pronus spei, quantum ex- tensis prioribus pedibus anniti poteram, insurgo valide et cervice prolixa nimiumque porrectis labiis, quanto maxime nisu poteram corollas appetebam. Quod me pessima scilicet sorte conantem servulus meus, cui semper equi cura mandata fuerat, repente conspiciens, indignatus exsurgit, et * Quousque tandem” inquit, *Cantherium patiemur istum paulo ante cibariis iumentorum, nunc etiam simulacris deorum infestum ? Quin iam ego istum sacrilegum debilem claudumque reddam," et statim telum aliquod quaeritans temere fascem lignorum positum offendit, rimatusque fron- dosum fustem eunctis vastiorem non prius miserum me tundere desiit, quam sonitu vehementi et largo strepitu percussis ianuis, trepido etiam rumore viciniae conclamatis latronibus profugit territus. 28 Nec mora, cum vi patefactis aedibus globus latro- num invadit omnia, et singula domus membra cingit armata factio, et auxili hinc inde convolantibus obsistit discursus hostilis: cuncti gladiis et facibus instrueti noctem illuminant; coruscat in modum ortivi solis ignis et mucro. Tune horreum quoddam satis validis claustris obsaeptum obseratumque, quod mediis aedibus constitutum gazis Milonis fuerat re- fertum, securibus validis aggressi diffindunt, quo passim recluso totas opes vehunt raptimque con- strictis sarcinis singuli partiuntür. Sed gestaminum modus numerum gerulorum excedit: tunc opulentiae nimiae nimio ad extremas incitas deducti, nos duos asinos et equum meum productos e stabulo quantum 140 THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK III evil hour did I go about that enterprise, for behold, the boy to whom I gave always charge of my horse suddenly spied me and ran in great anger towards me, and said: * How long shall we suffer this vile ass, that doth not only eat up his fellows' meat, but also would spoil the images of the gods? Why do I not make lame and weak this wretch?” Therewithal looking about for some cudgel, he espied where lay a faggot of wood, and choosing out a crabbed truncheon of the biggest he could find, did never cease beating of me, poor wretch, until such time as by great noise and rumbling, he heard the doors of the house burst open, and the neighbours crying * Thieves”’ in lamentable sort, so that, being stricken in fear, he fled away. .

• From The Divine Comedy (1950)

  Over it thou sawest the dead inscription; and already, on this side of it, comes down the steep, passing the circles without escort, one8 by whom the city shall be opened to us.” 1. No importance need be attached to the tradition based on this word, according to which the first seven cantos were written by Dante before his exile, and the composition of the work was resumed after a considerable interval.2. The others being spirits.3. Filippo Argenti’s disagreeable character is not sufficient to account for Dante’s special hatred. There is evidence to show that members of the Adimari family, to which Filippo belonged, were hostile to the poet himself. In Par. xvi Cacciaguida’s reference to them is anything but flattering.4. So far, only sins of incontinence have been punished. Within the City of Dis (or Pluto) are punished the graver sins of malice and bestiality (cf. Canto xi).5. The angels that fell with Satan (cf. Rev. xii. 9).6. Seven is not to be taken literally: cf. Psalms cxix. 164; Proverbs xxiv. 16.7. These same demons had opposed Christ at the gate of Hell (cf. Inf. iii), when he descended to Limbo (cf. Inf. iv).8. The angel whose coming is described in the next canto.C A N T O I XDante grows pale with fear when he sees his Guide come back from the gate, repulsed by the Demons, and disturbed in countenance. Virgil endeavours to encourage him, but in perplexed and broken words which only increase his fear. They cannot enter the City of Lucifer in their own strength. The three Furies suddenly appear, and threaten Dante with the head of Medusa. Virgil bids him turn round; and screens him from the sight of it. The Angel, whom Virgil has been expecting, comes across the angry marsh; puts all the Demons to flight, and opens the gates. The Poets then go in, without any opposition; and they find a wide plain, all covered with burning sepulchres. It is the Sixth Circle; and in the sepulchres are punished the Heretics, with all their followers, of every sect. The Poets turn to the right hand, and go on between the flaming tombs and the high walls of the city. [image file=image_rsrcA5N.jpg] THAT COLOUR which cowardice painted on my face, when I saw my Guide turn back, repressed in him more quickly his new colour.1 He stopped attentive, like one who listens: for his eye could not lead him far, through the black air and the dense fog. “Yet it behoves us to gain this battle,” he began; “if not … such help was offered to us. Oh! how long to me it seems till some one come!” I saw well how he covered the beginning with the other that came after, which were words differing from the first. But not the less his language gave me fear: for perhaps I drew his broken speech to a worse meaning than he held.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  When the skin was a drying we made merry with the flesh, and then we devised with our selves, that one of us being more valiant than the rest both in body and courage (so that he would consent thereto) should put on the skin, and feigning that he were a Beare, should be led to Demochares house in the night, by which means we thought to be received and let in. Many were desirous to play the Beare, but especially one Thrasileon of a couragious minde would take this enterprise in hand. Then wee put in into the Beares skin, which him finely in every point, wee buckled it fast under his belly, and covered the seam with the haire, that it might not be seen. After this we made little holes through the bears head, and through his nosthrils and eyes, for Thrasileon to see out and take wind at, in such sort that he seemed a very lively and natural beast: when this was don we went into a cave which we hired for the purpose, and he crept in after like a bear with a good courage. Thus we began our subtility, and then wee imagined thus, wee feigned letters as though they came from one Nicanor which dwelt in the Country of Thracia, which was of great acquaintance with this Demochares, wherein we wrote, that hee had sent him being his friend, the first fruits of his coursing and hunting. When night was come, which was a meet time for our purpose, we brought Thrasileon and our forged letters and presented them to Demochares. When Demochares beheld this mighty Beare, and saw the liberality of Nicanor his friend, hee commanded his servants to deliver unto us x. crowns, having great store in his coffers. Then (as the novelty of a thing doth accustom to stir mens minds to behold the same) many persons came on every side to see this bear: but Thrasileon, lest they should by curious viewing and prying perceive the truth, ran upon them to put them in feare that they durst not come nigh. The people said, Verily Demochares is right happy, in that after the death of so many beasts, hee hath gotten maugre fortunes head, so goodly a bear. Then Demochares commanded him with all care to be put in the park with all the other beasts: but immediately I spake unto him and said, Sir I pray you take heed how you put a beast tired with the heat of the sun and with long travell, among others which as I hear say have divers maladies and diseases, let him rather lie in some open place in your house nie some water, where he may take air and ease himself, for doe you not know that such kind of beasts do greatly delight to couch under the shadow of trees and hillocks neer pleasant wells and waters? Hereby Demochares admonished, and remembring how many he had before that perished, was contented that we should put the bear where we would. Moreover we said unto him, that we ourselves were determined to lie all night neer the Bear, to look unto him, and to give him meat and drink at his due houre.

• From The Divine Comedy (1950)

  C A N T O X I IThe way down to the Seventh Circle commences in a wild chasm of shattered rocks. Its entrance is occupied by the Minotaur, horror of Crete, and emblem of the bloodthirsty violence and brutality that are punished below. The monster begins to gnaw himself threateningly; but Virgil directs emphatic words to him, which instantly make him plunge about in powerless fury, and leave the passage free for some time. Dante is then led down amongst loose stones, which are lying so steep, that they give way under the weight of his feet. The river of Blood comes to view as they approach the bottom of the precipice. It goes round the whole of the Seventh Circle, and forms the First of its three divisions. All who have committed Violence against others are tormented in it; some being immersed to the eyebrows, some to the throat, &c., according to the different degrees of guilt; and troops of Centaurs are running along its outer bank, keeping each sinner at his proper depth. Nessus is appointed by Chiron, chief of the Centaurs, to guide Dante to the shallowest part of the river, and carry him across it. He names several of the tyrants, murderers, assassins, &c., that appear as they go along; and then repasses the river by himself to rejoin his companions. [image file=image_rsrcA5N.jpg] THE PLACE to which we came, in order to descend the bank, was alpine, and such, from what was there besides, that every eye would shun it. As is the ruin, which struck the Adige in its flank, on this side Trent,1 caused by earthquake or by defective prop,— for from the summit of the mountain, whence it moved, to the plain, the rock is shattered so, that it might give some passage to one that were above: such of that rocky steep was the descent; and on the top of the broken cleft lay spread the infamy of Crete,2 which was conceived in the false cow; and when he saw us he gnawed himself, like one whom anger inwardly consumes. My Sage cried towards Him: “Perhaps thou thinkest the Duke of Athens may be here, who, in the world above, gave thee thy death? Get thee gone, Monster! for this one comes not, instructed by thy sister; but passes on to see your punishments.” As a bull, that breaks loose, in the moment when he has received the fatal stroke, and cannot go, but plunges hither and thither: so I saw the Minotaur do. And my wary Guide cried: “Run to the passage; whilst he is in fury, it is good that thou descend.” Thus we took our way downwards on the ruin of those stones, which often moved beneath my feet, from the unusual weight. I went musing, and he said: “Perhaps thou art thinking of this fallen mass, guarded by that bestial rage, which I quelled just now.

• From In the Unlikely Event (2015)

  I have to go home and get ready for school.” “I’ll tell Mason you stopped by.” “Thank you.” [image "Elizabeth Daily Post" file=Image00030.jpg] [image "Elizabeth Daily Post" file=Image00030.jpg] Special EditionUMBRELLA OF DEATH HAS CLOSEDFEB. 11 — Just hours after the crash last night of a National Airlines DC-6 into the field behind the Janet Memorial Home, the third such disaster in eight weeks, the Port Authority closed down Newark Airport “pending further investigation,” and Mayor Kirk has promised it will be shut indefinitely. “The chaos, the horror, the terror is over,” he said. “The Umbrella of Death has closed.” In Washington, E. S. Hensley, director of the Civil Aero nautics Administration’s office of aviation safety, could offer no explanation why three major crashes have occurred in the same place within less than 60 days. “It could just as easily have been San Francisco, Timbuktu, or Saskatchewan,” Hensley said. “Why the Lord let it happen at Elizabeth I cannot guess. There is no earthly reason.” 22 [image "image" file=Image00005.jpg] [image file=Image00005.jpg] MiriAt school, the boys were excited. ANGELO VENETTI ( waving around the special edition of the paper ): No earthly reason. What did I tell you? But they won’t write about the unearthly reasons. They’re scared the aliens will unleash a full attack against us. PETE WOLF: Yeah, but is it a plot against America or just a plot against our city? WINKY HERKOVITZ: Either way, we’re in deep shit. DERISH GRAY: But the mayor says… WINKY HERKOVITZ: You’re going to believe him? DERISH GRAY: And Newark Airport is closed. CHARLEY KAMINSKY: Indefinitely. ELEANOR: Robo’s father knew what he was doing moving his family out of town. And just in time, too. SUZANNE: How did Robo’s father know? ELEANOR: He’s connected. SUZANNE: To the aliens? ELEANOR: To the mob. SUZANNE: This is about the mob? WINKY HERKOVITZ: Wake up, Little Suzy. Everything is about the mob. You should know, Miri thought, but she didn’t say so. She was willing to bet the kids at Robo’s new school wouldn’t be talking about the latest crash. They’d probably be talking about the latest show at the Paper Mill Playhouse. She felt like lashing out at all of them. She was sick of their stories. If only she could be sure Uncle Henry was right, that the crashes were accidents. But she’d just read a convincing article in Life magazine, “Making a Case for Interplanetary Saucers,” that made it all seem possible. Miri turned and walked away. In a minute Eleanor was by her side. “They’re imbeciles,” she said, nodding toward the boys. “They’re scared but they won’t admit it,” Miri said. “We’re all scared,” Eleanor said. “Aren’t we?” Miri nodded. They were all scared. “I’m still not convinced it isn’t sabotage,” Eleanor said. “But if it is sabotage I believe your uncle will uncover it.” Miri was glad to hear Eleanor had confidence in Uncle Henry. At lunchtime, she ducked out of the cafeteria to call Natalie’s house.

• From The Divine Comedy (1950)

  [image file=image_rsrcA5N.jpg] WHO, even with words set free, could ever fully tell, by oft relating, the blood and the wounds that I now saw? Every tongue assuredly would fail, because of our speech and our memory that have small capacity to comprehend so much. If all the people too were gathered, who of old upon Apulia’s fateful land wailed for their blood,1 by reason of the Trojans, and of that long war which made so vast a spoil of rings, as Livy writes, who errs not; with those who, by withstanding Robert Guiscard, felt the pains of blows; and the rest whose bones are gathered still at Ceperano, where each Apulian proved false; and there at Tagliacozzo, where old Alardo conquered without weapons; and one should show his limbs transpierced, and another his cut off: it were naught to equal the hideous mode of the ninth chasm. Even a cask, through loss of middle-piece or cant, yawns not so wide as one2 I saw, ripped from the chin down to the part that utters vilest sound: between his legs the entrails hung; the pluck appeared, and the wretched sack that makes excrement of what is swallowed. Whilst I stood all occupied in seeing him, he looked at me, and with his hands opened his breast, saying: “Now see how I dilacerate myself! See how Mahomet is mangled! Before me Ali weeping goes, cleft in the face from chin to forelock; and all the others, whom thou seest here, were in their lifetime sowers of scandal and of schism; and therefore are they thus cleft. A Devil is here behind, who splits us thus cruelly, reapplying each of this class to his sword’s edge, when we have wandered round the doleful road; for the wounds heal up ere any goes again before him. But who art thou, that musest on the cliff, perhaps in order to delay thy going to the punishment, adjudged upon thy accusations?” “Not yet has death come to him; nor does guilt lead him,” replied my Master, “to torment him; but to give him full experience, it behoves me, who am dead, to lead him through the Hell down here, from round to round; and this is true as that I speak to thee.” More than a hundred, when they heard him, stopped in the fosse to look at me, through wonder forgetting their torment. “Well, then, thou who perhaps shalt see the sun ere long, tell Fra Dolcino,3 if he wish not speedily to follow me down here, so to arm himself with victuals, that stress of snow may not bring victory to the Novarese, which otherwise would not be easy to attain.” After lifting up one foot to go away, Mahomet said this to me; then on the ground he stretched it to depart. Another, who had his throat pierced through, and nose cut off up to the eyebrows, and had but one single ear,

• From Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture (2018)

  I taped a towel over the window in my front door. I had never really thought about it before, that window. It was small and decorative. Who put it there? Maybe it was supposed to be charming, a decorative quirk of our postundergrad rental home. Maybe it was functional, somehow—a way to watch squirrels or make eye contact with my letter carrier. I had never thought much about this window before but, two days earlier, a man had masturbated at me at a nearby train station. Now, that window just seemed like what it was: a hole in the wall. I ripped masking tape into long strips with my teeth. I had already closed all the blinds, locked all the doors. My roommates weren’t around, so I’d spent the last two nights at my boyfriend’s house, delaying this homecoming. The encounter at the train station—I’d convinced myself of this over the previous forty-eight hours—had been targeted. It had not been a man masturbating near a train platform, but a man masturbating at me, two minutes away from my house, wedged into the familiar banalities that made up my daily routine: the smell of the nearby barbecue joint, the automated transit announcements, the bushes I stood near each morning on my way to work. He had masturbated at me near the city’s third-best cornbread. He had masturbated at me at a train platform where I’d once been kissed in high school. He had masturbated at me. He had masturbated at me. So I taped a towel over the window. It looked silly. It kept drooping, then falling down. I watched Everwood in my bedroom, going back to check on the towel every hour, feeling foolish. But I was very alone in the house that night, and the window seemed like the house’s one remaining vulnerability: the perfect spot for a man to stand, eye to glass, and continue the looking he had started two nights earlier. WHEN YOU DON’T WALK ALONE AT NIGHT, YOU ARE ROBBED OF the world’s quiet. The world is, you hear, very peaceful after 2 a.m. You’ve been told it’s pink-lit—awash in a stillness usually only achieved by plugging one’s ears. You imagine other people enjoying these pockets of quiet. You imagine them strolling the empty streets, feeling safe and solitary, having late-night insights. They must encounter raccoons, stray cats—creatures made bold by sundown. You have little experience with these creatures. Encountering these creatures is not your priority. Two Minutes After

• From In the Unlikely Event (2015)

  The smooth air had turned choppy on the final descent into Las Vegas. Miri didn’t like it. It wasn’t like riding a bucking bronco. Not that she’d ever been on a bucking bronco but she’d seen them in cowboy movies. These bumps were unpredictable. The stewardess told them to keep their seat belts fastened until they’d landed. Rusty turned to Miri. “How’re you doing, honey?” “I’m fine.” A lie. She was so terrified she dug her fingernails into the fabric of her seat cushion. “How about you?” “Good.” But Rusty didn’t look good. She was pale, with beads of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. As they came lower and lower in their descent, the scene out the window looked to Miri like a moonscape, or how she imagined a moonscape would look. Sandy and flat with tall, dark mountains rising out of nowhere. Lower and lower out of the wild blue yonder, lower and lower until the wheels hit the ground with a thud and the pilot reversed the engines, making a grinding noise. The captain spoke to them over the loudspeaker. “Welcome to McCarran Field, ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy your stay in Las Vegas. We hope you’ll join us again.” She’d survived the trip. Even if she never flew again, which she was sure she wouldn’t, at least she’d gone up into the wild blue yonder three times. At least she’d done that. The passengers applauded as if they’d been watching a show. They were all yakking, thrilled to have landed at McCarran Field or maybe thrilled just to have landed. When they were told they were free to unbuckle their seat belts, Fern jumped into Dr. O’s arms. Rusty, still looking unwell, draped an arm over Miri’s shoulder. “We made it.” Yes, they’d made it, but this was just the beginning. Las Vegas SunA-BOMB BLAST THRILLSJULY 5 — Thousands of holiday tourists on the Las Vegas strip celebrated dawn with the sight of an atomic flash at the Yucca Flat test site 78 miles away. The mushroom cloud was clearly seen, but there was disappointment at the slight shock. A thousand soldiers, positioned in foxholes only 7,000 yards away from the blast, surged forward minutes after the explosion in a simulated attack to encircle and capture the devastated area. “There were no casualties,” the Army announced. 35 [image "image" file=Image00005.jpg] [image file=Image00005.jpg] Miri and NatalieNatalie came to visit after camp, just before school started. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” she said to Miri. “I’m curious, that’s all. I still hate them. ” “What about me?” “I don’t know about you. Maybe yes, maybe no.” By then they were living in a furnished stucco ranch house east of the city in a neighborhood of other ranch houses called Rancho Circle. They were all ugly and looked the same. The three girls shared a room. Irene and Ben rented an identical house across the street. Their furniture and boxes of stuff were in storage while Rusty and Dr.