Lexitechnia

Vitruvius (De Architectura 10.2):

In trocleam induntur orbiculi duo per axiculos versationes habentes.

Two pulley wheels are inserted into the block, turning on its axles.

From what I can tell so far, classical Latin does not seem to have a word exactly corresponding to ‘pulley’; there was the sheave—the grooved wheel itself—orbiculus, and there was the block with the axles on which the sheave or array of sheaves was mounted, trochlea.   In English the word ‘pulley’ appears to refer originally to the sheave but often to the whole apparatus; in the former case the translation would be orbiculus, and in the latter trochlea is probably the better term.

[For trochlea.]

Cicero, against the idea of returning to a political situation (Ad Atticum 2.7):

Iam pridem gubernare me tædebat, etiam cum licebat; nunc vero cum cogar exire de navi non abiectis sed ereptis gubernaculis, cupio istorum naufragia ex terra intueri.

For a long time now I’ve been tired of steering, even while I was allowed; and now that I’m being forced to leave this ship, the helm not left behind but snatched away, I am quite eager to watch the wreckage from dry land.

Nautical metaphors like this, of course, are the reason the word ‘govern’ (gubernare, to steer or pilot) has come to mean what it has.  In addition to governing, we also have the ship of state (navis), being at the helm (gubernaculum), and the wreckage of a political career (naufragium).

For some reason, though Cicero can say istorum naufragia ‘their wreckage, the wreckage of those people’, I couldn’t find a way to make leaving the pronoun in sound natural.

[For abicio.]

On a side note, I will be updating ttt.frath.net about half as much as usual for a while as I work on designing a program to help keep better track of information for it.

Horace, against time hallowing all things (Epistulae 2.1):

Scrīptŏr ăb|hīnc ān|nōs cēn|tūm quī | dēcĭdĭt, | īntēr
pērfēc|tōs vĕtĕ|rēsquĕ rĕ|fērrī | dēbĕt ăn | īntēr
vīlīs | ātquĕ nŏ|vōs? Ēx|clūdāt | jūrgĭă | fīnīs.

The author who passed away a hundred years ago—should he be placed among the perfect and the ancient, or among the cheap and the modern? Let some limit bar any debate.

He goes on to argue that any such limit is untenable: if a hundred years is set as the limit, what about someone who only has ninety-nine under his belt, or is only short by a month? What merit is in that month, or the month before it, or the one before that one? The limit is to be reviled as arbitrary if we hold firmly to it, and as a slippery slope if we don’t.

I could probably have rendered excludat iurgia finis better. He seems to be having the same boundary (finis) that separates the classic from the modern also acting as a fence blocking out the arguments on the matter.

[For abhinc.]

Pliny on leeks (Naturalis Historia 19.33):

insigne quod, cum fimo lætoque solo gaudeat, rigua odit. et tamen proprietate quadam soli constant

It is notable that while [the leek] enjoys manure and rich soil, it despises well-watered ground—and yet they endure it, when a certain distinctive property is in the soil.

This one was difficult for some reason; the hardest part was the word constant. I couldn’t really make it fit into the sentence, or find an English equivalent that even made sense. It’s confusing to begin with, it being in the plural while gaudeat “enjoys” and odit “hates” are in the singular. I’m not sure if what I went with is the best way to have put it—I still don’t like that word, ‘endure’—but it expresses the sense that I got from the original.

The leek is still known to prefer a well-drained soil.

[For proprietas.]

Pliny on the stone of Siphnos (Naturalis Historia 36.44):

In Siphnos lapis est, qui cavatur tornaturque in vasa vel coquendis cibis utilia vel ad esculentorum usus, quod et in Comensi Italiæ lapide viridi accidere scimus, sed in Siphnio singulare quod excalfactus oleo nigrescit durescitque natura mollissimus; tanta qualitatum differentia est.

In Siphnos there is a stone which is hollowed out and lathed into vessels or utensils either for cooking food or for serving foodstuffs, which we know also happens with the green stone of Comum, Italy, but it is something unusual in the Siphnian that, though by nature it is quite soft, it blackens and hardens when it has been heated with oil; such is the difference in their qualities.

The stone described is generally taken to be soapstone or steatite, which is a very soft kind of stone (consisting chiefly of talc) still used today in kitchen counters and cookware, and which is often treated with oil for a darker color and to reduce the appearance of scratches. This use also gave the stone the (apparently medieval) name of lapis ollaris “potstone.”

Siphnos (still called Σίφνος Sifnos today) is one of the islands in the Cyclades, Greece. Besides its quarries, it was also known for its gold and silver mines, all of which, according to legend, were inundated by Apollo when they tried to pass off a gilded offering to the god as the golden one they habitually pledged.

[For qualitas.]