Two Romans Sculpt The Dying Gaul

The Dying Gaul, ca. 220 BCE¹

ROMAN I: Ah, Quintilianus! Hard at work on another masterpiece, I see…Not a citizen you’re sculpting this time? Can’t help notice your fellow is nude, but not quite classically nude. Can’t quite put my finger on it. Though I’d certainly like to, hah hah!

ROMAN II: Hah, hah!

ROMAN I: Hah, hah! Besides, your man’s sitting. Subordinate position, sitting. Not Roman. All right for women and cats and Germans. But not our sort of thing, eh, Quintilianus?

I mean to say — I can sit with the best of them, if the occasion calls for it. After a long march on hot day — nothing like a sit then. But I wouldn’t sit while I was sitting for a sculpture, if you catch my meaning. Standing’s for art. Sitting’s private. So, you’re sculpting a sitting man.

ROMAN II: Yes, I thought this time I’d depict one of our barbarous enemies dying in battle against Rome

ROMAN I: Hah hah! Our barbarous enemies do die in battle against Rome! All glory to Rome!

ROMAN II: Yes, hah hah!

ROMAN I: And their manner of speaking, of course. Preposterous! “Bar bar bar” and so on. Incomprehensible

ROMAN II: Yes, I can’t make any of it out either.

ROMAN I: And where do they live? Deranged, impossible places: Aeolia. “Mytilene.” Commagene…Sardinia…

Gaul, obviously…Rustics and knaves. And they wear mustaches.

I see you’ve given yours a nice little mustache

ROMAN II: Yes, I think it looks rather well on him

ROMAN I: Wouldn’t do for one of us, of course

ROMAN II: Not at all. Lacks dignitas, a mustache. Romans and gods have clean faces. But I think you’re right, and this little mustache suits our conquered Gaul.

ROMAN I: Can’t say much for that hairstyle they favor. Yours looks accurate, of course. But it always looks to me like they’ve chopped their hair off with rocks

ROMAN II: Yes, they don’t know a thing about hair, or roads, or aqueducts, or anything.

Just pig-killing and unbearable courage in battle

and the hammering of marvelous war-horns

and living in sublime harmony with the natural world every second of the day

ROMAN I: And I see you’ve made him astonishingly beautiful

ROMAN II: Yes, I thought that while I was at it — reminding everyone in Rome and Galatia of the crushing defeat we handed to them, and the ceaseless might of the Republic — I might as well make him very beautiful

Because you see I think it makes our victory all the more valuable, if our defeated enemy is not only brave but honorable, and not only honorable but beautiful

ROMAN I:

ROMAN II: and as you can see I’ve depicted him nude here —

ROMAN I: except for the splendid torc ringed around his neck?

ROMAN II: Yes, nude except for the splendid stiff torc around his powerful neck, with a mortice and tenon locking catch resting just above the hollow of his white throat

which I’ve imagined here as being cunningly wrought with ropes of twisted gold

and heavy, as though he bore the weight of a second head upon his mighty shoulders — free of any garment or ornament but the chain he forged himself —

I thought he ought to be nude except for a gorgeously heavy rope of knitted gold, a symbol which unites beauty with brutality

ROMAN I: Right, nude except for all that —

ROMAN II: — the better to highlight the dreadful glamor of the bleeding wound just above his right rib, here. Against the chilling marble whiteness of his otherwise unblemished skin

ROMAN I: Gosh

ROMAN II: Yes, I think so too

ROMAN I: It’s almost a shame how these beautiful provincials throw their lives so carelessly away — fighting in the nude, trusting only on Nature’s protection — savage and ruthless and reckless, seeking no quarter and offering none — when we’ve got helmets and greaves and cuirasses and things

ROMAN II: Wonderful for us, of course

ROMAN I: And in the prime of life

ROMAN II: Splendidly built

ROMAN I: Splendidly and finely built

ROMAN II: Keen and desperate to fight, laughing under the pine trees — swords smoking with blood — careless of danger —

ROMAN I: — And that small shield, like the one your lad is sitting on, scarcely protection enough against a Roman javelin —

ROMAN II: — All that protected him was honor — [Weeping a little.]

ROMAN I: [Weeping a little.]

[After a minute] Glory to Rome, of course.

ROMAN II: Yes, rather.

ROMAN I: You have to bend a little, with his face turned aside the way it is, before you can see the anguish furrowing his brow.

ROMAN II: Yes. I thought — I thought it was rather appropriate, that we should have to bow, a little bit, in order to see him all the way. To see him right through to the end, I mean. [Weeping a little.]

ROMAN I: He deserves it!

ROMAN II: He was the best of Rome!

ROMAN I: I love him!

ROMAN II: I love him, and I killed him! He was the best Gaul, and the best man, and the best Roman, who ever lived!

ROMAN I: And he’s not even living!

ROMAN II: His hands rough like sandpaper! His heart untutored, unstudied, but fine and true as an arrow shot from a bow!

ROMAN I: He’s down but not out! He’s braced his flesh against the good strong earth with his right arm — he’s looking inward, to the only real source of strength anyone has recourse to — If I ever find the centurion who struck that blow, I’ll kill him.

ROMAN II: I’ll help you do it. In death, he is not conquered; he laughs at the conqueror, and in doing so conquers himself — He’s more Roman than us all

ROMAN I: Oh, Dying Gaul, we love you — get up — !

ROMAN II: Sculpting’s very hard, you know. As soon as it starts to look like people I start crying, every time.

[Image via]

1. Never mind that it’s a copy of an earlier Greek bronze