Transition — ergō
Temporal Clause — ubi
Elevated Diction — caelicolae
Syncopated Perfect — tetigēre
Ablative Absolute — summissō vertice
Periphrasis — senex
Transferred Epithet — sēdula Baucis
Narrative Pace — inde
Temporal Adjective — hesternōs
Paronomasia — animā... anīlī
Compound Adjective — multifidās
Affectionate Term — coniūnx
Hyperbaton — furcā... bicornī
Sensory Detail — sordida terga
Emphasis — servātō diū
Participial Phrase — sectam
Metonymy — ferventibus undīs
Transition — ergō
Line 12
What's happening: ergō ("therefore") signals the logical consequence of the previous section. After describing how the gods were rejected everywhere else, we now see what happens when they finally find welcome. It's a satisfying narrative pivot.
In an exam: "The conjunction ergō ('therefore') creates a logical transition, signalling the consequence of the gods' search for hospitality. This marks the narrative shift from rejection to acceptance."
Temporal Clause — ubi
Line 12
What's happening: ubi ("when") opens a temporal clause that sets the scene. Combined with ergō, it creates a sense of "and so, when..." — building anticipation for what the gods will find.
In an exam: "The temporal conjunction ubi ('when') establishes the moment of arrival, creating narrative suspense as the reader anticipates the hosts' reaction to these divine visitors."
Elevated Diction — caelicolae
Line 12
What's happening: caelicolae ("heaven-dwellers") is a grand, poetic compound word for the gods. It's elevated, almost epic diction — and there's irony in using such a lofty word when these gods are stooping to enter a humble cottage.
In an exam: "The compound noun caelicolae ('heaven-dwellers') employs elevated, epic diction to describe the gods. This creates ironic contrast with the humble setting they are about to enter, emphasising their condescension."
Syncopated Perfect — tetigēre
Line 12
What's happening: tetigēre is the contracted form of tetigērunt — a poetic shortening common in verse. It gives the line a crisp, decisive feel: they touched, they arrived, done.
In an exam: "The syncopated perfect tetigēre (for tetigērunt, 'they touched/arrived') is a poetic contraction that creates metrical economy while lending a decisive, swift quality to the gods' arrival."
Ablative Absolute — summissō vertice
Line 13
What's happening: summissō vertice ("with bowed head") is an ablative absolute describing how the gods had to stoop to enter. It's a vivid physical detail — these towering divine beings literally lowering themselves to enter a peasant's doorway.
In an exam: "The ablative absolute summissō vertice ('with head bowed') provides vivid physical detail. The image of gods stooping to enter symbolises their humility and willingness to meet mortals on their level."
Periphrasis — senex
Line 14
What's happening: senex ("the old man") refers to Philemon without naming him directly. This periphrasis emphasises his age and the respect due to him, while also creating variety in how the characters are referred to.
In an exam: "The periphrasis senex ('the old man') for Philemon emphasises his venerable age while providing narrative variation. His age will prove significant to the theme of pious simplicity."
Transferred Epithet — sēdula Baucis
Line 15
What's happening: sēdula ("busy, attentive") describes Baucis herself, but really it's her actions that are busy. The epithet transferred to the person captures her whole character — she IS busy, that's her essence as a hostess.
In an exam: "The epithet sēdula ('busy, attentive') characterises Baucis as inherently industrious. This transferred epithet suggests her diligent hospitality is not merely an action but a fundamental aspect of her character."
Narrative Pace — inde
Line 16
What's happening: inde ("then, next") propels the narrative forward into a rapid sequence of actions. What follows is Baucis in constant motion — separating ash, rousing flames, feeding the fire, blowing on embers. The adverb kicks off this bustling domestic flurry, and Ovid maintains the pace with a string of verbs: dīmōvit, suscitat, nūtrit, prōdūcit, dētulit, minuit, admōvit. We're watching someone who knows exactly what she's doing.
In an exam: "The adverb inde ('then') accelerates the narrative pace, introducing a sequence of rapid domestic actions conveyed through multiple verbs in quick succession. This creates a vivid impression of Baucis's energetic, practised hospitality."
Temporal Adjective — hesternōs
Line 17
What's happening: hesternōs ("yesterday's") applied to the fires is a lovely domestic detail. The fire has been banked overnight and kept smouldering — it's not dead, just sleeping. This speaks to careful household management: in a world without matches, you don't let your fire go out completely. It also suggests routine and continuity — this is how every day begins in this cottage, coaxing yesterday's embers back to life.
In an exam: "The temporal adjective hesternōs ('yesterday's') applied to ignēs ('fires') provides realistic domestic detail. The banked overnight fire suggests careful resource management, established routine, and the practical reality of maintaining fire in the ancient world."
Paronomasia — animā... anīlī
Line 18
What's happening: animā anīlī ("with an old woman's breath") — the similar sounds create a gentle wordplay. There's something tender about this image: an old woman's breath, not strong but patient, coaxing flames to life.
In an exam: "The paronomasia (sound-play) in animā anīlī ('with an old woman's breath') creates phonetic harmony. The phrase tenderly depicts Baucis's patient effort, her gentle breath nurturing the flames."
Compound Adjective — multifidās
Line 19
What's happening: multifidās ("split into many pieces") is a vivid compound adjective describing the torches. It's precise — these aren't just sticks, they're specifically prepared kindling, split to catch fire easily. The compound itself (multus + findō) packs a lot of information into one word: many + split. Ovid loves these compound adjectives for their efficiency and their slightly elevated, poetic flavour. It also shows us Baucis's competence — she knows how to prepare kindling properly.
In an exam: "The compound adjective multifidās ('split into many pieces', from multus + findō) provides precise visual detail with poetic economy. The carefully prepared kindling suggests both poverty (using scraps) and domestic expertise in fire-making."
Affectionate Term — coniūnx
Line 21
What's happening: suus coniūnx ("her husband") — the term coniūnx emphasises the marital bond, the partnership. It's warmer than just saying "Philemon" or "the man" — they're a team working together. The word literally means "yoked together" (con- + iugum), like oxen pulling in harness. There's something beautiful about this: after a lifetime together, they still work in perfect coordination, she preparing vegetables, he fetching the meat.
In an exam: "The term coniūnx ('spouse', literally 'yoked together') emphasises the marital partnership between Baucis and Philemon. Combined with suus ('her own'), it underscores the affectionate, cooperative bond central to the story's celebration of faithful marriage."
Hyperbaton — furcā... bicornī
Line 22
What's happening: The adjective bicornī ("two-pronged") is separated from its noun furcā ("fork") by the verb and subject. This hyperbaton draws attention to both words — we see Philemon lifting, then get the vivid detail of the fork's distinctive shape. It's also a humble, rustic tool — not fancy kitchen equipment but a simple two-pronged implement, emphasising the couple's modest means even as they prepare their best for the guests.
In an exam: "The hyperbaton separating furcā ('fork') from bicornī ('two-pronged') emphasises both elements and creates suspense around the action. The specific detail of the humble two-pronged fork adds authenticity to the domestic scene while underscoring the couple's poverty."
Sensory Detail — sordida terga
Line 23
What's happening: sordida terga ("sooty back") — the bacon has been hanging in the smoke of the cottage, getting blackened. It's not pristine supermarket meat; it's real, smoke-cured, peasant food with visible evidence of its preservation.
In an exam: "The adjective sordida ('sooty, dirty') applied to terga ('back [of pork]') provides realistic sensory detail. The smoke-blackened meat reflects authentic peasant food preservation and the cottage's simple cooking arrangements."
Emphasis — servātō diū
Line 24
What's happening: servātō diū ("preserved for a long time") emphasises how precious this meat is. It's been carefully saved, probably for a special occasion. Now they're using it for these strangers — that's real generosity.
In an exam: "The phrase servātō diū ('preserved for a long time') emphasises the value of this stored food. By using their carefully saved provisions for strangers, the couple demonstrates exceptional pietas and generosity."
Participial Phrase — sectam
Line 25
What's happening: sectam ("having been cut") shows the sequential preparation — first cut, then softened in boiling water. The perfect participle captures methodical, step-by-step cooking. There's also something touching here: they're cutting off just a small portion (partem exiguam) from their precious preserved meat. Every action is careful, measured — they're making the most of limited resources while still being generous.
In an exam: "The perfect participle sectam ('having been cut') indicates sequential action in the cooking process. Combined with partem exiguam ('a small portion'), this methodical description emphasises both careful domestic work and the couple's limited but generously shared resources."
Metonymy — ferventibus undīs
Line 25
What's happening: ferventibus undīs ("in boiling waters") — undīs literally means "waves," used poetically for water. There's something almost elevated about this description of simple boiling water, giving dignity to humble cooking.
In an exam: "The phrase ferventibus undīs ('in boiling waters') employs undīs ('waves'), typically used of seas, for cooking water. This metonymy elevates the humble domestic scene, lending poetic dignity to peasant food preparation."