Hilarius, a cleric studying in Champagne, France around 1125, but supposed to have been an Englishman, [1] was the author of some Latin poetry preserved in a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris, and edited and published by J. J. Champollion-Figeac as Hilarii versus et ludi(Paris, 1838). Besides one addressed to his teacher and some religious verse, five of his surviving fourteen poems were love poems, one addressed to a nun and four to boys. The four latter are presented below.
The translation of those numbered VII, IX and XIII is by John Boswell in Appendix 2 of his Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality (Chicago, 1980), pp. 372-4, with the amendment of his translation thrice of one word, noted in a footnote. That of number X "To William of Anfonia" is by Thomas Stehling in his Medieval Latin Poems of Male Love and Friendship (New York, 1984), pp.71-75. The Latin text is that printed by Champollion-Figeac with two amendments by Boswell explained in footnotes. The enumeration of the poems follows that in Champollion-Figeac.
VII. To a Boy of Anjou
To a Boy of Anjou
Beautiful and singular boy,[2] Kindly inspect, I implore you, These writings which are sent by your admirer; Look at them, read them, and profit by what you read.
Prostrate at your knees, On bended knee, with clasped hands, As one of your suppliants, I spare neither tears nor prayers.
I am afraid to speak face to face; Speech escapes me, I am held speechless, So I admit my sickness in writing, Confident that I shall merit healing.
Enough, wretch! I barely bore it When I tried to hide my love; Now that I can no longer dissemble, I finally extend my hands, bound together.
As a patient I demand a doctor, Holding out my hands in supplication. You alone have the only medication; Therefore save me, your clerk.
Long held in a dreary jail, I found no one who would have mercy on me; Since I cannot be set free with a gift, I must lead a life worse than death.
Oh, how I wish you wanted money! Mine is the pain! Mine the suffering! It is ignorant of you[3] to have decided Such commerce constitutes vice.
Surely, boy,[5] this is foolishness, To be so unyielding, ……………………………… …..………………………….. [6]
A solemn resolve of chastity Ruined the fair Hippolytus;[7]Joseph nearly met his end When he spurned the queen's desire.[8]
A 12th-century boy of Anjou (illustrtd. by the Grahame Johnstone twins in Ida Foulis's This Land of Kings 1066-1399)
Ad Puerum Andegavensem
Puer pulcher et puer unice, Que mittuntur a tuo suplice Scripta, precor, benignus inspire, Vide , lege, lectaque perfice.
Ego tuis affusııs genibus, Genıı flexo junctisque manibus, Ut de tııis unus suplicibus, Et lacrimis utor et precibus.
Loqui presens presenti vereor; Sermo fugit, et mutus teneor. Scripto tandem morbum confiteor, Cunfitensque salutem mereor.
Satis, miser! pene sustinui Dum amorem celare volui; Cum caelare non ultra potui, Manus victas tendem exibui.
Eger ego deposco medicum Tendens manus ad modum suplicum Solus habes emplastrum unicum: Ergo serva me tuum clericum.
Gravi diu detentus carcere, Non inveni qui vellet parcere; Cum absolvi non possim munere, Vitam duco pejorem funere.
O! Quam vellem ut velles precium, Meus dolor! meum exicium! Es nescius [4] qııod esse vicium Decrevisti tale commercium.
Certe, pııer, hoc est inscicia, Quod (est) tibi tanta duricia ……………………………… Qui sit pulcris ex pudicicia.
Castitatis grave propositum Condemnavit pulcrum Ipolitum; Pene Joseph venit ad obitum, Dum regine contensit libitum.
Mediaeval English schoolboys being taught by a monk, by Peter Jackson
IX. To an English Boy
To an English Boy
Hail, fair boy,[9]who seeks no bribe, Who regards being won with a gift as the height of vice, In whom beauty and honesty have made their home, Whose comeliness draws to itself the eyes of all who see him.
Golden haired, fair of face, with a small white neck, Soft-spoken and gentle - but why do I praise these singly? Everything about you is beautiful and lovely; you have no imperfection, Except that such fairness has no business devoting itself to chastity.[10]
When nature formed you, she doubted for a moment Whether to offer you as a girl or a boy, But while she sets her mind's eye to settling this, Behold! You come forth, born as a vision for all.
Afterward, she does finally extend her hand to you And is astonished that she could have created anyone like you. But it is clear that nature erred in only this one thing: That when she had bestowed on you so much, she made you mortal.
No other mortal can be compared with you, Whom nature made for herself, as if an only child; Beauty establishes its home in you, Whose sweet flesh shines as brightly as the lily.
Believe me, if those former days of Jove should return, His handservant would no longer be Ganymede But you, carried off to heaven; by day the sweet cup And by night your sweeter kisses you would administer to Jove.
You are the common desire of lasses and lads; [11] They sigh for you and hope for you, because they know you are unique. They err or, rather, sin who call you “English”: They should add letters and call you “angelic.” [12]
Ad Puerum Anglicum
Ave, puer speciose, qui non queris precium, Qui te dono conparari summum ducis vicium; In quo decor et honestas delegit hospicium; Forma cujus sibi capit oculos spectancium.
Crinis flavus, os decoruın cervixque candidula, Sermo blandııs et suavis; sed quid laudem singula? Totııs pulclıer et decorus, nec est in te macula; Sed vaccare castitati talis nequit formula.
Cum natura te creavit, dubitavit paululum Si proferret te puellam, an proferret masculum; Sed dum in hoc eligendo mentis figit oculıım, Ecce prodis, in cummune natus ad spectaculum.
Postquam vero tibi manum extremam adibuit, Est mirata quia talem te creasse potuit; Sed naturam in hoc solum erravisse patuit, Quod, cum tanta contulisset, te mortalem statuit.
Tibi nequid conparari quislibet mortalium, Quem natura sibi fecit singularem filium; In te sibi pıılcritudo legit domicilium, Cujus nitet caro cara, candens uti lilium.
Crede mihi, si redirent prisca Jovis secula, Ganimedes jam non foret ipsius vernacula; Sed tu, raptus in supernis, grata luce pocula, Gratiora quidem nocte Jovi dares oscula.
Puellarum juvenumque votum extas publicum; Te suspirant et exoptant quem noverunt unicum. Errant quidem, inmo peccant qui te vocant Anglicum; Et vocalem interponant, et dicant angelicum.
Non angli sed angeli by John Everett Millais: the future Pope Gregory I originates Hilary's pun by quipping that these pretty English boys ("Angli") for sale would be angels ("angeli") if only they were Christian
X. To William of Anfonia
To William of Anfonia
Hail, splendor of England, Highest glory, unique beauty! Rumor testifies publicly How extravagantly generous you are. I extend to rumor the well-earned thanks I ought to give it; By its gift I have you in my mind And what I already possess is no small thing.
Rumor is a good thing: by its tidings I know a great deal about who you are, But nonetheless I thirst to know more: Whether you have need for my service. “Rumor is a bad thing,” said Virgil; He spoke well, never spoke better. “Rumor is a good thing,” said Hilary; He spoke true, never spoke truer.
Virgil had just cause To call rumor bad; But such a situation presents itself to Hilary That he rightly gives rumor a good name. Nature did not make you suddenly But took extraordinary pains with you. She gave of herself to you, and rightly so, For you amply repay the debt.
She gave you wealth which you use so Generously that you surpass everyone. You are robust in appearance, strong in learning, And arrogant about neither one nor the other. Certainly if Jupiter now reigned - Jupiter who wickedly became a bull for a girl - He would likewise become a bird for you So that you might be joined with him forever.[13]
Rumor speaks the truth about you But is still conquered by truth. The reality is so great that rumor is overcome; And thus the greater part of truth is lost. Rumor grows and may it never stop, But still it cannot suffice. Though it usually conquers, here it is defeated Because it cannot say all.
I am not strong enough finally to remain silent Because I burn with a malignant flame. Can this suffering be just, That I no longer am what I used to be? Not long ago I foolishly believed That no one could take anything from me. I thought - I am not ashamed to admit – That fortune could not wound me.
While I confidently held such hope And diligently pursued love, See, a heap of troubles fell on me, Heavy misfortunes, envious of my happiness. For a long time the wheel of fortune lifted me higher And higher, but now I know from experience The sweeter a standing, The harder the fall from it.
Ad Guillelmum de Anfonia
Ave, splendor telluris Anglice, Decus summum et decor unice, De te fama testatur publice, Largitatis quam sis inmodice! Fame grates dignas exibeo Exibere quas sibi debeo, Dono cujus te mente teneo; Nec est parum quod jam obtineo.
Fama bonum, ex cujus nuncio Magna, qui sis, ex parte sencio; Sed plus tamen sentire sicio, Si sit opus meo servitio. “Fama malum” dixit Virgilius; Bene, dixit nil unquam melius. “Fama bonum” dixit Hilarius; Verum, dixit nil unqııam verius.
Ille causam honestam habuit Ex qua malam vocare debuit; Huic se locus talis exibuit Boni nomen quod jure tribuit. Te non fecit natura sııbito; Laboravit in te plus solilo, Sua tibi dedit, et merito , Reddis enim vicem pro debito.
Dedit opes, quibus sic uteris Largitate quod omnes preteris; Vales forma, vales in litteris; Nec superbis nec his, nec ceteris. Si nunc certe regnaret Jupiter, Pro puella bos factus turpiter, Avis foret (tibi) similiter, Aput illum ut fores jııgiter.
De te verum a fama dicitur; Fama tamen a vero vincitur. Res est tanta, quod fama premitur Sic de vero pars magna demitur. Crescit fama, ne cessat crescere , Neqııe tamen valet sufficere; Sic est victa que solet vincere, Quia totum non valet dicere.
Reticere tandem non valeo, Quia flama maligna caleo: Videatur si jure doleo, Quia non sum quod esse soleo. Nuper enim credebam temere Qııemqııam mihi nil posse demere; Extimabam, ne pudet edere, Me fortıınam noın posse ledere.
Dum spem talem haberem credulus, Dum instarem amori sedulus, Ecce venit malorum cumulus, Casus gravis et letis emulus. Me fortııne rota superior Diu tulit, sed nunc experior Quia status quanto suavior, Tanto casus est factus gravior.
The Oratory of the Paraclete in Champagne, the Benedictine monastery where Hilary lived when he wrote his poems (18th century lithograph, following restoration)
XIII. To an English Boy
To an English Boy
Beautiful boy, flower fair, Glittering jewel, if only you knew That the loveliness of your face Was the torch of my love.
The moment I saw you, Cupid struck me; but I hesitate, For my Dido holds me, And I fear her wrath. [14]
Oh, how happy would I be If for a new favorite I could abandon this love[15] In the ordinary way.
I will win, as I believe, For I will yield to you in the hunt: I am the hunted, you are the hunter, And I yield to any hunter like you.
Even the ruler of heaven, Once the ravisher of boys, If he were here now would carry off Such beauty to his heavenly bower.
Then, in the chambers of heaven, You would be equally ready for either task: Sometimes in bed, other times as cupbearer - And Jove's delight as both.
Ad Puerum Anglicum
Puer decens, decens floris, Genma micans, velim noris Quia tui decus oris Fuit mihi fax amoris.
Ut te vidi, ınos cupido Me percussit; sed diffido; Nam me tenet mea Dido Cujus iram reformido.
O Quam felix ego forem, Si per novum suscessorem, Asuetum juxta morem, Declinarem hunc amorem.
Inpetrabo, sicut credo; Nam in predam tibi cedo. Ego preda tuque predo: Me predoni tali dedo.
Nam et rector superorum, Ractor olim puerorum, Si nunc esset, tam decorum Ad celeste ferret torum.
Aula tandem in superna, Satis prontus ad alterna, Nunc in toro, nunc pincerna, Jovi fores gratus una.
by Gaston Goor
[1] This attribution goes back at least to Jean Mabillon’s Annales ordinis S. Benedicti, vol. 5 (1713), p. 315. In its favour, five of his lyric poems were addressed to English people: three boys and two women.
[2] Boswell’s translation of “puer” as “youth” has here been amended to “boy”. Whilst it would be entirely legitimate to point out that the Latin “puer” could encompass youths as well as literal boys, just as its English equivalent “boy” can (or at least could), this cannot justify translating the word in such a way as to imply that Hilary must have meant “youths” rather than "boys”. This sort of license is one important way by which Greek love has typically been misrepresented as androphile in translations since the 1980s.
[3] Reading “es nescius" (with Herkenrath) instead of the “sed melius” printed by Champollion-Figeac. [Translator’s note]
[4] Reading “es nescius" (with Herkenrath) instead of the “sed melius” printed by Champollion-Figeac. [Translator’s note]
[5] Boswell’s translation of “puer” as “youth” has here been amended to “boy”. Whilst it would be entirely legitimate to point out that the Latin “puer” could encompass youths as well as literal boys, just as its English equivalent “boy” can (or at least could), this cannot justify translating the word in such a way as to imply that Hilary must have meant “youths” rather than "boys”. This sort of license is typical of one important way by which Greek love has typically been misrepresented as androphile in translations since the 1980s.
[6] Two lines are omitted here; the first is missing from the manuscript, leaving the next (“Qui sit pulcris ex pudiciciae”) ambiguous. [Translator’s note]
[7] The account in Seneca's Phaedra might have been familiar to Hilary [Translator’s note]. In this play, the Hippolytus’s spurning of Phaedra, who had fallen in love with him, led to his doom.
[8] The biblical Joseph’s spurning of the advances of his master’s wife (not actually a queen) led to his imprisonment (Genesis 39: 7-20).
[9] Boswell’s translation of “puer” as “youth” has here been amended to “boy”. Whilst it would be entirely legitimate to point out that the Latin “puer” could encompass youths as well as literal boys, just as its English equivalent “boy” can (or at least could), this cannot justify translating the word in such a way as to imply that Hilary must have meant “youths” rather than "boys”. This sort of license is typical of one important way by which Greek love has typically been misrepresented as androphile in translations since the 1980s.
[10] For “nequid " I read “nequit," … as does Fuller. [Translator’s note]
[11] Note the particularly firm assertion of the general assumption in pre-modern Europe that such a beautiful boy would be desired by both sexes.
[12] A Latin pun on “anglicus" and “angelicus,” doubtless copied from Bede’s famous anecdote explaining why Pope Gregory the Great launched a mission to convert the English to Christianity in AD 597. Long before, Gregory had seen for sale in the market in Rome some particularly beautiful slave-boys whom he was told were “Angli” (English) and heathen. “Non angli sed angeli si forent Christiani (Not English but angels if only they were Christians)” he said. (Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People II 1, though he does not actually quote Gregory’s famous words).
[13] In classical mythology, Jupiter became a bull in order to abduct Europa, a woman, and became an eagle in order to take away Ganymede, a boy, to live with him forever.
[14] Dido was the ancient Queen of Carthage who according to Virgil’s Aeneid (IV 642) cursed the lover who abandoned her and his descendants, with ultimately fatal consequences.
[15] I.e., if I could leave my “Dido” for you, as other men leave one woman for another. The Latin is tortuous. [Translator’s note]
Comments
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Helen, 01 April 2020
Wonderful. Ad Puerum Anglicum XIII can be sung to the tune of "In Taberna Quando Sumus" from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana!
