Greek Anthology Books 1-6

ToposText · Greek Anthology · 820 sections

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§ 1.100 On Nilus the Great Hermit The stream of the river Nile can water the earth and the word of the monk Nilus can delight the mind.
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§ 1.101 BY MENANDER PROTECTOR On a Persian mage who became a Christian and suffered Martyrdom I, Isbozetes, was formerly a mage among the Persians, my hope resting on pernicious fraud. When my city was in flames I came to help, and a servant of all-powerful Christ came too. He extinguished the force of the fire, but none the less, though I was worsted I gained a more divine victory.
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§ 1.102 On our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ the Son of God O Thou who art beyond all things (for how can I celebrate Thee more), how shall I tell Thy name Who art supreme above all? How shall I sing Thee in words. Whom no words can comprehend?
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§ 1.103 On the Lintel of a House in Cyzicus which was saved from Fire Bloodthirsty Momus, thy own bitter arrow slew thee, for God delivered me, this wealthy house, from thy fury.
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§ 1.104 On the Chest containing the Relics of the Holy Martyr Acacius and of King Alexander Here lie the bodies, discovered one happy day, of the Martyr Acacius and the priest Alexander.
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§ 1.105 On Eudocia the Wife of King Theodosius The wise mistress of the world, inflamed by pious love, cometh as a servant, and she who is worshipped by all mankind worshippeth the tomb of One. For He who gave her a husband and a throne, died as a Man but lives a God. Below He played the man, but above He was as He was.
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§ 1.106 In the Golden Hall of Mazarinus (after the Restoration of Images) The light of Truth hath shone forth again, and blunts the eyes of the false teachers. Piety hath increased and Error is fallen; Faith flourisheth and Grace groweth. For behold, Christ pictured again shines above the imperial throne and overthrows the dark heresies. And above the entrance, like a holy door, is imaged the guardian Virgin. The Emperor and the Patriarch, as victorious over Error, are pictured near with their fellow-workers, and all around, as sentries of the house, are angels, disciples, martyrs, priests: whence we call this now the Christotriclinium (the hall of Christ ) instead of by its former name Chrysotriclinium (the Golden Hall), since it has the throne of the Lord Christ and of his Mother, and the images of the Apostles and of Michael, author of wisdom.
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§ 1.107 On the same O Emperor Michael, as preserving the bright preciousness of the ancient image, and as conqueror of all fleshly stains, thou dost picture the Lord in colours too, establishing by deed the word of dogma.
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§ 1.108 On Adam (Anonymous) Not without wisdom was Adam so called, for the four letters represent the four quarters of the earth. The Alpha he has from Anatole (the East), the Delta from Dysis (the West), the second Alpha is from Arctus (the North) and the Mu from Mesembria (the South).
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§ 1.109 BY IGNATIUS THE MAGISTER GRAMMATICORUM In the Church of the Holy Virgin at the Fountain Basilius, Leo, and Constantine redecorate the ruined church of the Virgin.
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§ 1.110 In the same Church on the picture of the Ascension in the Dome Ascending from Earth, O Saviour, to Thy Father's throne, Thou showest Thy Mother's house to be a spiritual source of higher gifts.
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§ 1.111 In the same Church on the Crucifixion Dead Hell vomits up the dead, being purged by the flesh of the Lord.
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§ 1.112 In the same Church on the Transfiguration Christ on Tabor, shining brighter than light, hath done away with the shadow of the old Law.
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§ 1.113 In the same Church on the Presentation The Boy now seen in the old man's arms is the ancient Creator of Time.
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§ 1.114 In the same Church on the Salutation The Lord saying “Hail” to the women presages the salvation of the world.
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§ 1.115 On the Virgin A Virgin bore a Son; after a Son she was a Virgin.
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§ 1.116 On the Saviour Blessed Christ, immortal Light of men, Son of God, receive gifts of crystal and sardonyx, incorruptible Son of a Virgin, Son of God, gifts of crystal and sardonyx.
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§ 1.117 On the Blind Man The blind, whose eyes were closed from birth, saw; for Christ came, the Grace that is all eyes.
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§ 1.118 Prayers Our wicked enemy raised a tempest of passions, rousing the sea with his winds; whence he tosses and submerges and floods the cargo of our ship the soul. But, do thou, O Christ, calm and stiller of tempest, anchoring us safely in thy harbour, show our sins dry and this our enemy soaked with disaster.
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§ 1.119 The Argument, an eloquent Apology, of a Homeric Cento The book of Patricius, the God-fearing priest, who performed a great task, composing from the works of Homer a glorious song of splendid verses, announcing the deeds of the invincible God; how He came to the company of men and took human form, and was hidden when an infant in the blameless womb of a Virgin, He whom the infinite universe cannot hold; and how He sucked from the breast of the Virgin, once great with child from God, the stream of maiden milk it spouted; how Herod, in his folly seeking the death of the immortal God, slew the still tender babes; how John washed Him in the waters of the river; how He took to Him His twelve excellent companions; the limbs of how many He made whole, driving out loathly diseases, and darkness of sight, and how He stayed the running stream of blood in the weeping woman who touched His raiment; and how many victims of the cruel fates He brought back to the light from the dark pit; and how He left us memorials of His holy Passion; how by the hands of men He was tortured by cruel bonds, by His own will, for no mortal man could war with God who ruleth on high, unless He Himself decreed it; how He died and burst the iron gates of Hell and led thence into Heaven by the immaculate command of His Father the faithful spirits, having arisen on the third morn, the primal offspring of the Father who hath no beginning.
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§ 1.120 In Blachernae, in the Church of the Virgin If thou seekest the dread throne of God on Earth, marvel as thou gazest on the house of the Virgin. For she who beareth God in her arms, beareth Him to the glory of this place. Here they who are set up to rule over the Earth believe that their sceptres are rendered victorious. Here the Patriarch, ever wakeful, averts many catastrophes in the world. The barbarians, attacking the city, on only seeing Her at the head of the army bent at once their stubborn necks.
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§ 1.121 In the same Church The house of the Virgin, like her Son, was destined to become a second gate of God. An ark hath appeared holier than that of old, not containing the tables written by God's hand but having received within it God himself. Here are fountains of purification from the flesh, here is redemption of errors of the soul. There is no evil circumstance, but from Her gusheth a miraculous gift to cure it. Here, when She overthrew the foe, She destroyed them by water, not by the spear. She hath not one method of defeat alone, who bore Christ and putteth the barbarians to flight.
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§ 1.122 MICHAEL CHARTOPHYLAX On the Virgin and Child This is she who bore a child and remained a Virgin. Wonder not thereat, for the Child is God, who consented to put on flesh.
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§ 1.123 SOPHRONIUS On the Rock of Calvary Thrice-blessed rock, who didst receive the blood that issued from God, the fiery children of Heaven guard thee around, and Kings, inhabitants of the Earth, sing thy praise.
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§ 2.1 BOOK II CHRISTODORUS OF THEBES IN EGYPT Description of the Statues in the public gymnasium called Zeuxippos. DEIPHOBUS: First Deiphobus stood on a well-carved pedestal, daring all, in armour, a valiant hero, even as he was when he met the onrush of Menelaus before his house that they were pillaging. He stood even as one who was advancing, side-ways, in right fighting attitude. Crouching in fury with bent back, he was collecting all his fierce strength, while he turned his eyes hither and thither as if on his guard against an attack of the enemy. In his left hand he held before him a broad shield and in his right his uplifted sword, and his furious hand was even on the point of transpiercing his adversary, but the nature of the brass would not let it serve his rage. Aeschines and Aristotle: And there shone Athenian Aeschines, the flower of wise Persuasion, his bearded face gathered as if he were engaged in struggle with the tumultuous crowd, looking sore beset by anxiety. And near him was Aristotle, the prince of Wisdom: he stood with clasped hands, and not even in the voiceless bronze was his mind idle, but he was like one deliberating; his puckered face indicated that he was solving some doubtful problem, while his mobile eyes revealed his collected mind. Demosthenes: And the trumpet-speaker of the Paeanians stood there conspicuous, the sage father of well-sounding eloquence, who erst in Athens set alight the wise torch of entrancing Persuasion. He did not seem to be resting, but his mind was in action and he seemed to be revolving some subtle plan, even as when he had sharpened his wit against the warlike Macedonians. Fain would he have let escape in his anger the torrent of his speech, endowing his dumb statue with voice, but Art kept him fettered under the seal of her brazen silence. Euripides: There stood he who bears the name of the Euripus, and methought he was conversing secretly in his heart with the Tragic Muses, reflecting on the virtue of Chastity; for he looked even as if he were shaking the thyrsus on the Attic stage. PALAEPHATUS: Palaephatus the prophet stood forth, his long hair crowned with laurel, and he seemed to be pouring forth the voice of prophecy. Hesiod, Polyidus, and Simonides: Hesiod of Ascra seemed to be calling to the mountain Muses, and in his divine fury he did violence to the bronze by his longing to utter his inspired verse. And near him stood another prophet, Polyidus, crowned with the laurel of Phoebus, eager to break into prophetic song, but restrained by the gagging fetter of the artist. Nor hadst thou, Simonides, laid to rest thy tender love, but still dost yearn for the strings; yet hast thou no sacred lyre to touch. He who made thee, Simonides, should have mixed sweet music with the bronze, and the dumb bronze had reverenced thee, and responded to the strains of thy lyre. ANAXIMENES: Anaximenes the wise philosopher was there, and in deep absorption he was revolving the subtle thoughts of his divine intellect. CALCHAS: And Calchas, son of Thestor, stood there, the clearsighted prophet, as if prophesying, and he seemed to be concealing his message, either pitying the Greek host or still dreading the king of golden Mycenae. PYRRHUS: Look on the cub of the Aeacidae, Pyrrhus the son of Achilles the sacker of cities, how he longed to handle the bronze weapons that the artist did not give him; for he had wrought him naked: he seemed to be gazing up, as if directing his eyes to windswept Ilion. Amymone and Poseidon: There sat rosy-fingered Amymone. She was gathering up her unfilleted hair behind, while her face was unveiled, and with upturned glance she was gazing at her black-haired lord the Sea-King. For near her stood Poseidon, naked, with flowing hair, holding out to her a dripping dolphin, bringing a suitor's gifts for the hand of the much-sought maiden. SAPPHO: And the clear-toned Pierian bee sat there at rest, Sappho of Lesbos. She seemed to be weaving some lovely melody, with her mind devoted to the silent Muses. APOLLO: There stood Phoebus who speaketh from the tripod. He had bound up behind his loosely flowing hair. In the bronze he was naked, because Apollo knoweth how to make naked to them who enquire of him the true decrees of Fate, or because he appeareth to all alike, for King Phoebus is the Sun and his pure brilliancy is seen from far. Aphrodite: And near shone Cypris, shedding drops of beauty on the bright bronze. Her bust was naked, but her dress was gathered about her rounded thighs and she had bound her hair with a golden kerchief. Alcibiades: And I marvelled at the son of Cleinias, seeing him glistening with glory, for he had interwoven with the bronze the rays of his beauty. Such was he as when in Attica, the mother of story, he awoke wise counsel. Chryses: Near him stood the priest Chryses, holding in his right hand the sceptre of Phoebus and wearing on his head a fillet. Of surpassing stature was he, as being one of the holy race of heroes. Methinks he was imploring Agamemnon. His thick beard bloomed in abundance, and down his back trailed the clusters of his unplaited hair. Julius Caesar: Near him shone forth Julius, who once adorned Rome with innumerable shields of her foes. He wore on his shoulders a grisly-faced aegis, and carried exulting in his right hand a thunder-bolt, as one bearing in Italy the title of a second Zeus. Plato: There stood god-like Plato, who erst in Athens revealed the secret paths of heaven-taught virtue. Aphrodite: And another high born Aphrodite I saw all of gold, naked, all glittering; and on the breast of the goddess, hanging from her neck, fell in coils the flowing cestus. Hermaphroditus: There stood lovely Hermaphroditus, nor wholly a man, nor wholly a woman, for the statue was of mixed form: readily couldst thou tell him to be the son of fair-bosomed Aphrodite and of Hermes. His breasts were swelling like a girl's, but he plainly had the procreative organs of a man, and he showed features of the beauty of both sexes.
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§ 2.1b ERINNA: The clear-voiced maiden Erinna sat there, not plying the involved thread, but in silence distilling drops of Pierian honey. TERPANDER: Pass not over sweet-voiced Terpander, whose image thou wouldst say was alive, not dumb; for, as it seemed to me, he was composing, with deeply stirred spirit, the mystic song; even as once by the eddying Eurotas he soothed, singing to his consecrated lyre, the evil spite of Sparta's neighbour-foes of Amyclae. Pericles and Pythagoras: I marvelled beholding thee, Pericles, that even in the dumb brass thou kindlest the spirit of thy eloquence, as if thou didst still preside over the citizens of Athens, or prepare the Peloponnesian War. There stood, too, Pythagoras the Samian sage, but he seemed to dwell in Olympus, and did violence to the nature of the bronze, overflowing with intellectual thought, for methinks with his pure eyes he was measuring Heaven alone. STESICHORUS: There saw I clear-voiced Stesichorus, whom of old the Sicilian land nurtured, to whom Apollo taught the harmony of the lyre while he was yet in his mother's womb. For but just after his birth a creature of the air, a nightingale from somewhere, settled secretly on his lips and struck up its clear song. DEMOCRITUS: Hail, Democritus, glory of the land of Abdera; for thou didst explore the laws of Nature, the mother of beautiful children, discerning the subtle mysteries of the Muse of Science: and ever didst thou laugh at the slippery paths of life, well aware that ancient Time outstrippeth all. Heracles, Auge and Aeneas: Heracles, no down yet visible on the circle of his chin, was holding in the hand that had slain the lion the golden apples, rich fruit of the Libyan land, and by him stood the priestess of Pallas, the maiden Auge, her mantle thrown over her head and shoulders, for her hair was not done up with a kerchief. Her hands were uplifted as if she were calling on the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus under the hill of Tegea. Hail! warrior son of Troy, glittering counsellor of the Trojans, Aeneas! for wise modesty redolent of beauty is shed on thy eyes, proclaiming thee the divine son of golden Aphrodite. CREUSA: And I wondered looking on Creusa, the wife of Aeneas, overshadowed in mourning raiment. She had drawn her veil over both her cheeks, her form was draped in a long gown, as if she were lamenting, and her bronze tears signified that Troy, her nurse, was captive after its siege by the Greek warriors. HELENUS: Nor did Helenus cease from wrath, but seemed pitiless to his country, still stirring his wrath. In his right hand he raised a cup for libations, and I deem he was foretelling good to the Greeks and praying to the gods to bring his nurse to the extremity of woe. ANDROMACHE: And Andromache, the rosy-ankled daughter of Eetion, stood there not weeping or lamenting, for not yet, I deem, had Hector with the glancing helm fallen in the war, nor had the exultant sons of the shieldbearing Greeks laid waste entirely her Dardan nurse. Menelaus and Helen: There one might see Menelaus warlike, but rejoicing in the victory, for his heart was warmed with great joy, as he saw near him rosy-armed Helen reconciled. I marvelled at her lovely image, that gave the bronze a grace most desirable, for het beauty even in that soulless work breathed warm love. Ulysses and Hecuba: Goodly Ulysses was rejoicing in his wily mind, for he was not devoid of his versatile wits, but still wore the guise of subtlety. And he was laughing in his heart, for he gloried in having laid Troy low by his cunning. But do thou tell me, mother of Hector, unhappy Hecuba, which of the immortals taught thee to shed tears in this thy dumb presentment? Not even the bronze made thee cease from wailing, nor did lifeless Art have pity on thee and stop thee from thy irremediable fury; but still thou standest by weeping, and, as I guess, no longer dost thou lament the death of unhappy Hector or the deep grief of poor Andromache, but the fall of thy city; for thy cloak drawn over thy face indicates thy sorrow, and thy gown ungirt and descending to thy feet announces the mourning thou hast within. Extreme anguish hath bound thy spirit, the tears ran down thy cheeks, but Art hath dried them, proclaiming how searching is the drought of thy incurable woe. CASSANDRA: There saw I the prophetess Cassandra, who, blaming her father in silence, seemed filled with prescient fury as if prophesying the last woes of her city. Pyrrhus and Polyxena: Here was another Pyrrhus, sacker of cities, not wearing on his locks a plumed helmet or shaking a spear, but naked he glittered, his face beardless, and raising his right hand in testimony of victory he looked askance on weeping Polyxena. Tell me, Polyxena, unhappy virgin, what forces thee to shed hidden tears now thou art of mute bronze, why dost thou draw thy veil over thy face, and stand like one ashamed, but sorry at heart? Is it for fear lest Pyrrhus of Phthia won thee for his spoil after destroying thy city? Nor did the arrows of thy beauty save thee — thy beauty which once entrapped his father, leading him of his own will into the net of unexpected death. Yea, by thy brazen image I swear had Prince Pyrrhus seen thee as thou here art, he would have taken thee to wife and abandoned the memory of his father's fate.
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§ 2.1c Locrian Ajax: And at Ajax I marvelled, whom valorous Oeleus begat, the huge bulwark of the Locrian land. He seemed in the flower of youth, for the surface of his chin was not yet marked with the bloom of hair. His whole well-knit body was naked, but weighty with valour he wielded the goad of war. Oenone and Paris: Oenone was boiling over with anger — boiling, eating out her heart with bitter jealousy. She was furtively watching Paris with her wild eyes and conveyed to him secret threats, spurning her ill-fated lord with her right hand. The cowherd seemed ashamed, and he was looking the other way, unfortunate lover, for he feared to look on Oenone in tears, his bride of Kebrene. DARES, ENTELLUS: Dares was fastening on his hands his leather boxing-straps and arming himself with wrath, the herald of the fight; with mobile eyes he breathed the hot breath of valour. Entellus opposite gazed at him in fury, handling too the cestus that pierceth the flesh, his spirit big with blood-thirsty menace. A WRESTLER: And there was a strong man skilled in wrestling, Apollo knows if his name were Philo or Philammon, or Milo, the bulwark of Sicily; for I could not learn it to tell you, the famous name of this man of might; but in any case he was full of valour. He had a shaggy trailing beard, and his face proclaimed him one to be feared in the arena. His locks were fretful, and the hard stretched muscles of his sturdy limbs projected, and when his fists were clenched his two thick arms were as firm as stone. On his robust back stood out a powerful muscle running up on each side of the hollow of his flexible neck. CHARIDEMUS: Look, I beg, on Charidemus the Attic chief, who had their army under his command. MELAMPUS: And thou wouldst marvel looking on Melampus; he bore the holy semblance of a prophet, and with his silent lips he seemed to be breathing intensely the divine breath of inspiration. PANTHOUS, THYMOETES, LAMPON, AND CLYTIUS: There was Panthous the Trojan senator; he had not yet ceased from menacing the safety of the Greeks. And Thymoetes the counsellor was thinking of some elaborate plan, plunged in the sea of silence. Verily he seemed to be yet meditating some design to help the Trojans. Lampon was like one vexed; for his mind had no more the power of giving birth to healing counsel to keep off from the sore-worn Trojans the wave of war that was to overwhelm them. Clytius stood at a loss, his clasped hands heralding hidden trouble. ISOCRATES: Hail, Isocrates, light of rhetoric! For thou adornest the bronze, seeming to be revealing some wise counsels even though thou art wrought of mute brass. AMPHIARAUS: Amphiaraus, his fiery hair crowned with laurel, was sighing, musing on a secret sorrow, foreseeing that Thebes, founded where lay the heifer, shall be the death of the Argives' home-coming. AGLAUS: The prophet Aglaus stood there, who, they say, was the father of the inspired seer Polyidus: he was crowned with leafy laurel. Apollo: There I saw the far-shooter with unshorn hair, I saw the lord of song, his head adorned with locks that bloomed in freedom: for a naturally-curling tress hung on each shoulder. He rolled his prophetic eyes as if he were freeing men from trouble by his oracular power. AJAX: All naked was stout-hearted Telamonian Ajax, beardless as yet, the bloom of his native beauty all his ornament; his hair was bound with a diadem, for he wore not his helmet, and wielded no sword, nor was his seven-hide shield on his shoulders, but he exhibited the dauntless valour of his father Telamon. SARPEDON: There stood Sarpedon, the Lycian leader; terrible was he in his might; his chin was just marked with tender down at the point. Over his hair he wore a helmet. He was nude, but his beauty indicated the parentage of Zeus, for from his eyes shone the light of a noble sire. APOLLO: Next was a third Apollo, the fair-haired speaker from the tripod, beautiful to see; for his curls fell over both his shoulders, and the lovely beauty of a god was manifest in him, adorning the bronze; his eyes were intent, as if he were gazing from his seat on the mantic tripod. APHRODITE: And here was a third Aphrodite to marvel at, her bosom draped: on her breasts rested the twisted cestus, and in it beauty swam. ACHILLES: Divine Achilles was beardless and not clothed in armour, but the artist had given him the gesture of brandishing a spear in his right hand and of holding a shield in his left. Whetted by daring courage he seemed to be scattering the threatening cloud of battle, for his eyes shone with the genuine light of a son of Aeacus. HERMES: There, too, was Hermes with his rod of gold. He was standing, but was tying with his right hand the lace of his winged shoe, eager to start on his way. His right leg was already bent, over it was extended his left hand and his face was upturned to the sky, as if he were listening to the orders of his father. APULEIUS: Apuleius was seated considering the unuttered secrets of the Latin intellectual Muse. Him the Italian Siren nourished, a devotee of ineffable wisdom. ARTEMIS: There stood maiden Artemis, the sister of Phoebus, who haunteth the mountains: but she carried no bow, no quiver on her back. She had girt up to her knees her maiden tunic with its rich border, and her unsnooded hair floated loose in the wind. HOMER: Homer's statue seemed alive, not lacking thought and intellect, but only it would seem his ambrosial voice; the poetic frenzy was revealed in him. Verily some god cast the bronze and wrought this portrait; for I do not believe that any man seated by the forge was its smith, but that wise Athene herself wrought it with her hands, knowing the form which she once inhabited; for she herself dwelt in Homeland uttered his skilled song. The companion of Apollo, my father, the godlike being, divine Homer stood there in the semblance of an old man, but his old age was sweet, and shed more grace on him. He was endued with a reverend and kind bearing, and majesty shone forth from his form. His clustering grey hair, tossed back, trailed over his bent neck, and wandered loose about his ears, and he wore a broad beard, soft and round; for it was not pointed, but hung down in all its breadth, weaving an ornament for his naked bosom and his loveable face. His forehead was bare, and on it sat Temperance, the nurse of Youth. The discerning artist had made his eyebrows prominent, and not without reason, for his eyes were sightless. Yet to look at he was not like a blind man; for grace dwelt in his empty eyes. As I think, the artist made him so, that it might be evident to all that he bore the inextinguishable light of wisdom in his heart. His two cheeks were somewhat fallen in owing to the action of wrinkling eld; but on them sat innate Modesty, the fellow of the Graces, and a Pierian bee wandered round his divine mouth, producing a dripping honey-comb. With both his hands he rested on a staff, even as when alive, and had bent his right ear to listen, It seemed, to Apollo or one of the Muses hard by. He looked like one in thought, his mind carried hither and thither from the sanctuary of contemplation, as he wove some martial lay of the Pierian Siren. PHERECYDES: Pherecydes of Syra stood there resplendent with holiness. Plying the holy compasses of wisdom, he was gazing at the heavens, his eyes turned upwards. HERACLITUS: And Heraclitus the sage was there, a god-like man, the inspired glory of ancient Ephesus, who once alone wept for the works of weak humanity. CRATINUS: And there shone the delicate form of gifted Cratinus, who once sharpened the biting shafts of his iambics against the Athenian political leaders, devourers of the people. He brought sprightly comedy to greater perfection. MENANDER: There stood Menander, at fair-towered Athens, the bright star of the later comedy. Many loves of virgins did he invent, and produced iambics which were servants of the Graces, and furious ravishers of unwedded maidenhoods, mixing as he did with love the graver flower of his honeyed song. AMPHITRYON: Amphitryon glittered there, his hair crowned with virginal laurel. In all he looked like a clear-seeing prophet; yet he was no prophet, but being the martial spouse of Alcmena, mother of a great son, he had set the crown on his pleated tresses to signify his victory over the Taphians. THUCYDIDES: Thucydides was wielding his intellect, weaving, as it seemed, one of the speeches of his history. His right hand was raised to signify that he once sang the bitter struggle of Sparta and Athens, that cut down so many of the sons of populous Greece.
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§ 2.1d HERODOTUS: Nor did I fail to notice the divine nightingale of Halicarnassus, learned Herodotus, who dedicated to the nine Muses, intermingling in his eloquence the flowers of Ionic speech, all the exploits of men of old that two continents produced, all that creeping Time witnessed. PINDAR: There stood the Heliconian swan of ancient Thebes, sweet-voiced Pindar, whom silver-bowed Apollo nurtured by the peak of Boeotian Helicon, and taught him music; for at his birth bees settled on his melodious mouth, and made a honey-comb testifying to his skill in song. XENOPHON: Xenophon stood there shining bright, the citizen of Athena who wields the shield, he who once proclaiming the might of Cyrus the Achaemenid, followed the sonorous genius of Plato's Muse, mixing the fruit rich in exploits of History, mother of noble deeds, with the drops of the industrious bee. Alcmaeon, or Alcman There stood one named Alcmaeon the prophet; but he was not the famous prophet, nor wore the laurel berries on his hair. I conjecture he was Alcman, who formerly practised the lyric art, weaving a Doric song on his sweet-toned strings. POMPEY: Pompey, the leader of the successful Romans in their campaign against the Isaurians, was treading under foot the Isaurian swords, signifying that he had imposed on the neck of Taurus the yoke of bondage, and bound it with the strong chains of victory. He was the man who was a light to all and the father of the noble race of the Emperor Anastasius. This my excellent Emperor showed to all, himself vanquishing by his arms the inhabitants of Isauria. HOMER: A second Homer stood there, not I think the prince of epic song, the divine son of fair-flowing Meles, but one who by the shore of Thrace was the son of the famous Byzantine Moero, her whom the Muses nurtured and made skilful while yet a child in heroic verse. He himself practised the tragic art, adorning by his verses his city Byzantium. VIRGIL: And he stood forth — the clear-voiced swan dear to the Italians, Virgil breathing eloquence, whom his native Echo of Tiber nourished to be another Homer.
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§ 3.0 BOOK III THE CYZICENE EPIGRAMS In the temple at Cyzicus of Apollonis the mother of Attalus and Eumenes, inscribed on the tablets of the columns, contained scenes in relief, as follows:
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§ 3.1 On Dionysus conducting his mother Semele, to Heaven, preceded by Hermes, Satyrs, and Sileni escorting them with Torches. The fair-haired daughter of Cadmus and Harmonia, slain in childbirth by the bolt of Zeus, is being led up from Acheron by her son Dionysus, the thyrsus-lover, who avengeth the godless insolence of Pentheus.
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§ 3.2 Telephus recognised by his Mother. Leaving the valleys of Arcadia because of my mother Auge, I Telephus, myself the dear son of Heracles, set foot on this Teuthranian land, that I might bring her back to Arcadia.
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§ 3.3 Phoenix blinded by his father Amyntor, whom his own wife Alcimede attempts to restrain. Alcimede is holding back her husband Amyntor from their son Phoenix, wishing to appease his father's wrath. He quarrelled with his father for his virtuous mother's sake, because he desired to lie with a slave concubine. His father, listening to crafty whispered slander, was wrath with the young man, and approached him with a torch to burn out his eyes.
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§ 3.4 Polymedes and Clytius, the sons of Phineus the Thracian, who slew their father's Phrygian wife, because he took her to wife while still married to their mother Cleopatra. Clytius and Polymedes, renowned for wisdom, are slaying their Phrygian stepmother for their own mother's sake. Cleopatra therefore is glad of heart, having seen the wife of Phineus justly slain.
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§ 3.5 Cresphontes is killing Polyphontes, the slayer of his father; Merope is there holding a staff and helping her son to slay him. Thou didst formerly slay, O Polyphontes, the father of Cresphontes, desiring to defile the bed of his wedded wife. And long after came his son to avenge his father's murder, and slew thee for the sake of his mother Merope. Therefore hath he planted his spear in thy back, and she is helping, striking thee on the forehead with a heavy staff.
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§ 3.6 The Pytho slain by Apollo and Artemis, because it appeared and prevented Leto from approaching the oracle at Delphi which she went to occupy. Leto in utter loathing is turning away from the earthborn Pytho, a creeping thing, all confusedly coiled; for it wishes to annoy the wise goddess: but Phoebus, shooting from the height, lays it low in its blood. He shall make the Delphian tripod inspired, but the Pytho shall yield up its life with groans and bitter hisses.
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§ 3.7 On the North side: The story of Zethus and Amphion. They are tying Dirce to the bull, because instigated by jealousy she treated with excessive harshness their mother Antiope, whom her father, Nycteus, owing to her seduction, abandoned to Lycus, Dirce's husband. Amphion and Zethus, scions of Zeus, slay this woman Dirce, the injurer of your mother Antiope, whom formerly she kept in prison owing to her jealous spite, but whom she now beseeches with tears. Attach her to the bull with a double rope, that it may drag her body through this thicket.
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§ 3.8 Ulysses in Hades questioning his mother Anticlea concerning affairs at home. Anticlea, mother of wise Ulysses, thou didst not live to receive thy son in Ithaca; but now he marvelleth, seeing thee, his sweet mother, on the shore of Acheron.
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§ 3.9 Pelias and Neleus, the sons of Poseidon, delivering from bonds their mother Tyro, whom her father Salmoneus imprisoned owing to her seduction, and whom her step-mother Sidero tortured. Let not the bonds of Sidero torment thee any longer, Tyro, crouching before this thy father, Salmoneus; for he shall not keep thee in bondage longer, now he sees Neleus and Pelias approach to restrain him.
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§ 3.10 On the West side, the recognition of Eunous and Thoas, the children of Hypsipyle, by their mother. They are showing her the golden vine, the token of their birth, and saving her from her punishment at the hands of Eurydice for the death of Archemorus. Show, Thoas, this plant of Bacchus, for so shalt thou save from death thy mother, the slave Hypsipyle, who suffered from the wrath of Eurydice, since the earth-born snake slew Archemorus. And go thou too, Eunous, leaving the borders of the Asopian land, to take thy mother to pleasant Lemnos.
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§ 3.11 Polydectes the King of Seriphus being turned into stone by Perseus with the Gorgon's head. He had sent Perseus to seek this in order to marry his mother, and the death he had designed for another he suffered himself by the providence of Justice. Thou didst dare, Polydectes, to defile the bed of Danae, succeeding Zeus in unholy wedlock. Therefore, Perseus here uncovered the Gorgon's eyes and made thy limbs stone, to do pleasure to his mother.
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§ 3.12 Ixion killing Phorbas and Polymelus, for their murder of his mother Megara. They slew her out of anger, because she would not consent to marry either of them. Ixion, whom you see, laid low Phorbas and Polymelus, taking vengeance on them for their vengeance on his mother.
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§ 3.13 Heracles leading his mother Alcmene to the Elysian Plains to wed her to Rhadamanthys, and his own reception into the number of the gods. Bold Heracles gave this his mother Alcmene in holy wedlock to Rhadamanthys.
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§ 3.14 Tityus shot down by Apollo and Artemis for daring to assault their mother Leto. Lustful and drunk with folly, why didst thou try to force the bride of Zeus, who now, as thou deservedst, bathed thee in blood and left thee righteously on the ground, food for beasts and birds.
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§ 3.15 Bellerophon saved by his son Glaucus, when having fallen from the back of Pegasus into the Aleian plain he was about to be killed by Megapenthes, the son of Proetus. No longer could Bellerophon stay the murderous hand of this son of Proetus, nor the death designed for him by his father. Glaucus, in vain thou fearest for him (?); he shall escape the plot of Iobates, for thus the Destinies decreed. Thyself, too, then didst shield thy father from death, standing near him, and wast an observant witness to the truth of the glorious story.
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§ 3.16 At the door of the temple as we approach it are Aeolus and Boeotus, the sons of Poseidon, delivering their mother Melanippe from the fetters in which she was placed by her father owing to her seduction. Aeolus and Boeotus, a clever and pious task ye performed in saving your mother from death. Therefore ye were proved to be brave men, one of you from Aeolis, the other from Boeotia.
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§ 3.17 Anapis and Amphinomus, who on the occasion of the eruption in Sicily carried through the flames to safety their parents and nought else. The epigram has perished.
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§ 3.18 Cleobis and Biton, who enabled their mother Cydippe, the priestess of Hera at Argos, to sacrifice, by putting their own necks under the yoke, when the oxen delayed. They say she was so pleased that she prayed to Hera that the highest human happiness possible for man should befall her sons; thus she prayed, and that night they died. This story of Cydippe and her sons' piety is not false, but has the beauty of truth. A delightful labour and a seasonable for men was theirs; they undertook a glorious task out of piety to their mother. Rejoice even among the dead ye men famous for your piety and may you alone have age-long story.
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§ 3.19 Romulus and Remus deliver their mother Servilia from the cruelty of Amulius. Mars had seduced her, and they were his children. They were exposed, and suckled by a wolf. When they came to man's estate, they delivered their mother from bondage. After founding Rome they re-established Numitor in the kingdom. Thou didst bear secretly this offspring to Ares, Romulus and Remus, at one birth. A she- wolf brought them up in a cave, and they delivered thee by force from woe ill to cure.
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§ 4.1 BOOK IV THE PROEMS OF THE DIFFERENT ANTHOLOGIES THE STEPHANUS OF MELEAGER To whom, dear Muse, dost thou bring these varied fruits of song, or who was it who wrought this garland of poets? The work was Meleager's, and he laboured thereat to give it as a keepsake to glorious Diocles. Many lilies of Anyte he inwove, and many of Moero, of Sappho few flowers, but they are roses; narcissus, too, heavy with the clear song of Melanippides and a young branch of the vine of Simonides; and therewith he wove in the sweetscented lovely iris of Nossis, the wax for whose writing-tablets Love himself melted; and with it marjoram from fragrant Rhianus, and Erinna's sweet crocus, maiden-hued, the hyacinth of Alcaeus, the vocal poets' flower, and a dark-leaved branch of Samius' laurel. He wove in too the luxuriant ivy-clusters of Leonidas and the sharp needles of Mnasalcas' pine; the deltoid plane-leaves of the song of Pamphilus he plucked intangled with Pancrates' walnut branches; and the graceful poplar leaves of Tymnes, the green serpolet of Nicias and the spurge of Euphemus that grows on the sands; Damagetus, the dark violet, too, and the sweet myrtle of Callimachus, ever full of harsh honey: and Euphorion's lychnis and the Muses' cyclamen which takes its name from the twin sons of Zeus. 25 And with these he inwove Hegesippus' maenad clusters and Perseus' aromatic rush, the sweet apple also from the houghs of Diotimus and the first flowers of Menecrates' pomegranate, branches of Nicaenetus' myrrh, and Phaennus' terebinth, and the tapering wild pear of Simmias; and from the meadow where grows her perfect celery he plucked but a few blooms of Parthenis to inweave with the yellow-eared corn gleaned from Bacchylides, fair fruit on which the honey of the Muses drops. 35 He plaited in too Anacreon's sweet lyric song, and a bloom that may not be sown in verse; and the flower of Archilochus' crisp-haired cardoon — a few drops from the ocean; and therewith young shoots of Alexander's olive and the blue corn-flower of Polyclitus; the amaracus of Polystratus, too, he inwove, the poet's flower, and a fresh scarlet gopher from Antipater, and the Syrian spikenard of Hermodorus; he added the wild field-flowers of Posidippus and Hedylus, and the anemones of Sicelides; yea, verily, and the golden bough of Plato, ever divine, all asheen with virtue; and Aratus therewith did he set on, wise in starlore, cutting the first-born branches from a heaven-seeking palm; and the fairtressed lotus of Chaeremon mingled with Phaedimus' phlox, and Antagoras' sweetly-turning oxeye, and Theodoridas' newly flowered thyme that loveth wine, and the blossom of Phanias' bean and the newly written buds of many others, and with all these the still early white violets of his own Muse. To my friends I make the gift, but this sweet-voiced garland of the Muses is common to all the initiated.
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§ 4.2 THE STEPHANUS OF PHILIPPUS Plucking for thee flowers of Helicon and the firstborn blooms of the famous Pierian forests, reaping the ears of a newer page, I have in my turn plaited a garland to be like that of Meleager. Thou knowest, excellent Camillus, the famous writers of old; learn to know the less abundant verses of our younger ones. Antipater will beautify the garland like an ear of corn, Crinagoras like a cluster of ivy-berries; Antiphilus shall shine like a bunch of grapes, Tullius like melilot and Philodemus like amaracus, Parmenion like myrtle and Antiphanes like a rose; Automedon is ivy, Zonas a lily, Bianor oak-leaves, Antigonus olive leaves, and Diodorus a violet. You may compare Evenus to a laurel, and many others whom I have inwoven to what freshly flowered blooms you like.
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§ 4.3 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS OF MYRINA His collection of new epigrams presented in Constantinople to Theodorus, son of Cosmas, the decurion. The proems were spoken after the frequent recitations given at that time. I suppose, Sirs, that you are so glutted with this banquet of various literary dishes that the food you eat continues to rise. Indeed ye sit crammed with dainties, for many have served up to you a mixed feast of precious and varied discourse and persuade you to look with contempt on ordinary fare. What shall I do now? Shall I allow what I had prepared to lie uneaten and spoil, or shall I expose it in the middle of the market for sale to retail dealers at any price it will fetch? Who in that case will want any part of my wares or who would give twopence for my writings, unless his ears were stopped up? But I have a hope that you may partake of my work kindly and not indifferently; for it is a habit with you to estimate the fare of a feast by the host's desire to please alone. Besides, I am going to serve you a meal to which many new flavourings contribute. For since it is not possible for you to enjoy food worthy of you by my own exertions alone, I have persuaded many to share the trouble and expense and join with me in feasting you more sumptuously. Indeed the rich gave me abundantly of their affluence, and accepting this I take quite sincere pride in their dainties. And one of them pointing at me may say aptly to another, “I recently kneaded fresh poetical dough, and what he serves is of my kneading.” Thus one but not the wisest of those skilled cooks may say, thanks to whom I alone am thought to be the lord of such a rich feast. For I myself have had the courage to make a slender contribution from my own resources so as not to seem an entire stranger to my guests. I introduce a small portion of each poet, just to taste; but if anyone wishes to have all the rest and take his fill of it, he must seek it in the market. To add ornament to my work I will begin my preface with the Emperor's praise, for thus all will continue under good auspices. As I sing of very great matters, may it be mine to find words equally exalted. (Praise of Justinian ) Let no barbarian, freeing himself from the yokestrap that passes under his neck, dare to fix his gaze on our King, the mighty warrior; nor let any weak Persian woman raise her veil and look straight at him, but, kneeling on the ground and bending the proud arch of her neck, let her come uncalled and submit to Roman justice. And thou, handmaid of the west, by farthest Cadiz and the Spanish Strait and Ocean Thule, breathe freely, and counting the heads of the successive tyrants that are buried in thy dust, embrace thy beloved Rome with trustful arms. By the ridge of the Caucasus and on the Colchian shore, where once the hard back of the iron soil was broken by the resounding hoofs of the brazen bulls, let the Phasian bride, weaving a measure in company with the Hamadryads, wheel in the dance she loves, and casting away her dread of the race of giants, sing the labours of our manysceptred prince. Let not the prow of Thessalian Argo any longer boast that the Colchian land, in awe of the exploits of the Pagasaean hero, ceased to be fertilized by the seed of giants and bear a harvest of warriors. This is either the invention of fable, or was brought about by unholy art, when the crafty maiden, maddened by love, set the force of her magic in motion. But without fraud or the dark hell-broth the Bactrian giant fell before our shafts. No land is now inaccessible to me, but in the waters of the Caspian and far as the Persian Gulf the vanquished seas are beaten by Italian oars. Go now, thou Roman traveller, unescorted over the whole continent and leap in triumph. Traversing the recesses of Scythia and the inhospitable glen of Susa, descend on the plains of India, and on thy road, if thou art athirst, draw water from enslaved Hydaspes. Yea, and walk fearless too over the dark lands of the west, and seek the Pillars of Heracles; rest unalarmed on the sands of Spain where, above the threshold of the lovely sea, the twain horns of the continents meet and silence men's hope of progress by land. Traversing the extremity of Libya, the land of the Nasamones, reach also the Syrtis, where the sea, driven back by southerly gales towards the adverse slope of the north, affords passage for men on foot over the soft sands from which it has ebbed, on a beach that ships sail over. The regions of no foreign land shall receive you, but you will be amid the possessions of our wise King, whichever way you progress, since he has encompassed the world in his dominion. In vain now would the Tanais in its course through Scythia to Maeotis attempt to limit the continents of Europe and Asia. So now that the whole earth is full of beloved peace, now that the hopes of disturbers at home and abroad have been shattered by our Emperor, come, blest Theodorus, and let us institute a contest of poetic skill and start the music of the singer's dance. I performed this task for you; for you I prepared this work, collecting in one volume the sweet merchandise of the bee that visits many blossoms; gathering such a bunch of varied flowers from the elegy, I planted a wreath of poetic eloquence to offer you, as one offering beech-leaves to Jove or ships to the Earth -shaker, or a breastplate to Ares or a quiver to Apollo, or a lyre to Hermes or grapes to Dionysus. For I know that the dedication to Theodorus will instil eternal glory into this work of my study. I will first select for you, competing with men of old time, all that the parents of the new song wrote as an offering to the old gods. For it was meet to adhere to the wise model of the ancient writers. After those again comes a more ambitious collection of all our pens wrote either in places or on wellwrought statues or on the other widely distributed performances of laborious Art. The third starting-point of the young book is occupied, as far as it was allowed us, by what God granted us to write on tombs in verse but adhering to the truth. Next what we wrote on the devious paths of life and the deceitful balance of inconstant Fortune, behold at the fourth base-line of the book. Yea, and perhaps you may be pleased by the charm of a fifth contest, where waxing abusive we wrote scurrilous rhyme, and Cytherea may steal a sixth book of verse, turning our path aside to elegiac converse and sweet love. Finally in a seventh honey-comb you will find the joys of Bacchus and tipsy dances and wine and cups and rich banquets.
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§ 4.4 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS OF MYRINA Columns and pictures and inscribed tablets are a source of great delight to those who possess them, but only during their life; for the empty glory of man does not much benefit the spirits of the dead. But virtue and the grace of wisdom both accompany us there and survive here attracting memory. So neither Plato nor Homer takes pride in pictures or monuments, but in wisdom alone. Blessed are they whose memory is enshrined in wise volumes and not in empty images.
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§ 5.1 BOOK V THE AMATORY EPIGRAMS Prooemion of Constantine Cephalas Warming the hearts of youth with learned fervour, I will make Love the beginning of my discourse, for it is he who lighteth the torch for youth.
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§ 5.2 Anonymous She who sets the town on fire, Sthenelais, the high-priced whore, whose breath smells of gold for those who desire her, lay by me naked in my dream all night long until the sweet dawn, giving herself to me for nothing. No longer shall I implore the cruel beauty, nor mourn for myself, now I have Sleep to grant me what he granted.
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§ 5.3 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA The day has broken, Chrysilla, and for long early-rising chanticleer is crowing to summon envious Dawn. A curse on thee, most jealous of fowls, who drivest me from home to the tireless chatter of the young men. Thou art growing old, Tithonus, or why dost thou chase thy consort Aurora so early from thy bed?
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§ 5.4 PHILODEIMUS Philaenis, make drunk with oil the lamp, the silent confidant of things we may not speak of, and then go out: for Love alone loves no living witness; and, Philaenis, shut the door close. And then, dear Xantho, — but thou, my bed, the lovers' friend, learn now the rest of Aphrodite's secrets.
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§ 5.5 STATYLLIUS FLACCUS To faithless Nape Flaccus gave myself, this silver lamp, the faithful confidant of the loves of the night; and now I droop at her bedside, looking on the lewdness of the forsworn girl. But thou, Flaccus, liest awake, tormented by cruel care, and both of us are burning far away from each other.
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§ 5.6 CALLIMACHUS Callignotus swore to Ionis that never man nor woman would be dearer to him than she. He swore, but it is true what they say, that Lovers' oaths do not penetrate the ears of the immortals. Now he is glowing with love for a youth, and of the poor girl, as of the Megarians, there is neither word nor count.
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§ 5.7 ASCLEPIADES Dear lamp, thrice Heraclea here present swore by thee to come and cometh not. Lamp, if thou art a god, take vengeance on the deceitful girl. When she has a friend at home and is sporting with him, go out; and give them no more light.
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§ 5.8 MELEAGER O holy Night, and Lamp, we both chose no confidants but you of our oaths: and he swore to love me and I never to leave him; and ye were joint witnesses. But now he says those oaths were written in running water, and thou, O Lamp, seest him in the bosom of others.
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§ 5.9 RUFINUS Written from Ephesus in the form of a letter I, thy Rufinus, wish all joy to my sweetest Elpis, if she can have joy away from me. By thy eyes, I can support no longer this desolate separation and my lonely bed without thee. Ever bathed in tears I go to Coressus hill or to the temple of Artemis the Great. But tomorrow my own city shall receive me back and I shall fly to the light of thy eyes wishing thee a thousand blessings.
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§ 5.10 ALCAEUS I hate Love. Why doth not his heavy godship attack wild beasts, but shooteth ever at my heart? What gain is it for a god to burn up a man, or what trophies of price shall he win from my head?
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§ 5.11 Anonymous Cypris, if thou savest those at sea, save me, beloved goddess, who perish ship-wrecked on land.
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§ 5.12 RUFINUS Let us bathe, Prodike, and crown our heads, and quaff untempered wine, lifting up greater cups. Short is the season of rejoicing, and then old age conies to forbid it any longer, and at the last death.
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§ 5.13 PHILODEMUS Charito has completed sixty years, but still the mass of her dark hair is as it was, and still upheld by no encircling band those marble cones of her bosom stand firm. Still her skin without a wrinkle distils ambrosia, distils fascination and ten thousand Graces. Ye lovers who shrink not from fierce desire, come hither, unmindful of her decades.
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§ 5.14 RUFINUS Europa's kiss is sweet though it reach only to the lips, though it but lightly touch the mouth. But she touches not with the edge of the lips; with her mouth cleaving close she drains the soul from the finger-tips.
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§ 5.15 RUFINUS Where is now Praxiteles? Where are the hands of Polycleitus, that gave life to the works of ancient art? Who shall mould Melite's scented ringlets, or her fiery eyes and the splendour of her neck? Where are the modellers, the carvers in stone? Such beauty, like the image of a god, deserved a temple.
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§ 5.16 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Golden-horned Moon, and all ye stars that shine around and sink into the bosom of Ocean, look on this! Perfumed Ariste is gone and hath left me alone, and for six days I seek the witch in vain. But we shall catch her notwithstanding, if I put the silver hounds of Cypris on her track.
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§ 5.17 GAETULICUS Guardian of the surf-beaten shore, I send thee, Cypris, these little cakes and simple gifts of sacrifice. For tomorrow I shall cross the broad Ionian Sea, hasting to the bosom of my Idothea. Shine favourable on my love, and on my bark, thou who art queen alike of the chamber and of the shore.
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§ 5.18 RUFINUS We, who take no pleasure in costly intrigues, prefer servants to ladies of high station. The latter smell of scent, and give themselves the airs of their class, and they are attended even at the rendezvous (?). The charm and fragrance of a servant are her own, and her bed is always ready without any prodigal display. I imitate Pyrrhus the son of Achilles, who preferred Andromache the slave to his wife Hermione.
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§ 5.19 RUFINUS I am not said to rave about boys as before, but now they say I am mad about women, and my quoit has become a rattle. Instead of the unadulterated complexion of boys I am now fond of powder and rouge and colours that are laid on. Dolphins shall feed in the forests of Erymanthus, and fleet deer in the grey sea.
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§ 5.20 HONESTUS I neither wish to marry a young girl nor an old woman. The one I pity, the other I revere. Neither sour grape nor raisin would I have, but a beauty ripe for the chamber of Love.
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§ 5.21 RUFINUS Did I not tell thee, Prodike, that we are growing old, did I not foretell that the dissolvers of love shall come soon? Now they are here, the wrinkles and the grey hairs, a shrivelled body, and a mouth lacking all its former charm. Does anyone approach thee now, thou haughty beauty, or flatter and beseech thee? No! like a wayside tomb we now pass thee by.
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§ 5.22 RUFINUS Love, the giver of sweet gifts, gave me to thee, Boopis, for a servant, yoking the steer that came himself to bend his neck to Desire, all of his own free will, at his own bidding, an abject slave who will never ask for bitter freedom, never, my dear, till he grows grey and old. May no evil eye ever look on our hopes to blight them!
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§ 5.23 CALLIMACHUS Mayest thou so sleep, Conopion, as thou makest me sleep by these cold portals; mayest thou sleep even so, cruel one, as thou sendest him who loves thee to sleep. Not a shadow of pity touched thee. The neighbours take pity on me, but thou not a shadow. One day shall the grey hairs come to remind thee of all this.
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§ 5.24 [PHILODEMUS ] My soul warns me to fly from the love of Heliodora, for well it knows the tears and jealousies of the past. It commands, but I have no strength to fly, for the shameless girl herself warns me to leave her, and even while she warns she kisses me.
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§ 5.25 By the same As often as I come to Cydilla's embrace, whether I come in the day time, or more venturesome still in the evening, I know that I hold my path on the edge of a precipice, I know that each time I recklessly stake my life. But what advantage is it to me to know that? My heart is bold (?), and when Love ever leads it, it knows not at all even the shadow of fear.
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§ 5.26 Anonymous Whether I see thee, my queen, with glossy raven locks, or again with fair hair, the same charm illumines thy head. Verily Love shall lodge still in this hair when it is grey.
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§ 5.27 RUFINUS Where, Melissa, now is the golden and admired brilliance of thy renowned beauty? Where are they, thy disdainful brow and thy proud spirit, thy long slender neck, and the rich gold clasps of thy haughty ankles? Now thy hair is unadorned and unkempt and rags hang about thy feet. Such is the end of prodigal harlots.
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§ 5.28 RUFINUS Now, you so chary of your favours, you bid me good-day, when the more than marble smoothness of your cheeks is gone; now you dally with me, when you have done away with the ringlets that tossed on your haughty neck. Come not near me, meet me not, scorner! I don't accept a bramble for a rose.
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§ 5.29 CILLACTOR Sweet is fruition, who denies it? but when it demands money it becomes bitterer than hellebore.
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§ 5.30 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA All Homer says is well said, but this most excellently that Aphrodite is golden. For if, my friend, you bring the coin, there is neither a porter in the way, nor a dog chained before the door. But if you come without it, there is Cerberus himself there. Oh! grasping code of wealth, how dost thou oppress poverty!
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§ 5.31 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA Formerly there were three ages, a golden, a silver, and a brazen, but Cytherea is now all three. She honours the man of gold, and she kisses the brazen man and she never turns her back on the silver men. She is a very Nestor 3; I even think that Zeus came to Danae, not turned to gold, but bringing a hundred gold sovereigns.
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§ 5.32 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS You do everything, Melissa, that your namesake the flower-loving bee does. I know this and take it to heart. You drop honey from your lips, when you sweetly kiss, and when you ask for money you sting me most unkindly.
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§ 5.33 PARMENION Thou didst fall in rain of gold on Danae, Olympian Zeus, that the child might yield to thee as to a gift, and not tremble before thee as before a god.
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§ 5.34 PARMENION Zeus bought Danae for gold, and I buy you for a gold coin. I can't give more than Zeus did.
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§ 5.35 RUFINUS I judged the hinder charms of three; for they themselves chose me, showing me the naked splendour of their limbs. One, marked by rounded dimples blossomed with cheeks both gleaming and soft. However, the snowy flesh of the second blushed crimson in the parted cleft, redder than the purest rose. The third, like a tranquil sea, was split by silent waves, rippling over her soft skin of their own accord. If Paris who judged the goddesses had seen three such, he would not have wished to look again on the former ones.
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§ 5.36 RUFINUS Rhodope, Melita, and Rhodoclea strove with each other, which of the three had the best groin. They picked me to be judge. Just like goddesses these naked women stood there on display, dripping with nectar. And the midpoint between Rhodope’s thighs gleamed, richly, like a bed of roses ruffled by the gentle west wind. That of Rhodoclea was transparent alabaster, with a melting brow, like a freshly sculpted statue in a temple. But as I knew well what Paris suffered owing to his judgment, I at once gave the prize to all the three goddesses.
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§ 5.37 By the same Take not to your arms a woman who is too slender nor one too stout, but choose the mean between the two. The first has not enough abundance of flesh, and the second has too much. Choose neither deficiency nor excess.
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§ 5.38 NICARCHUS A fine and largely built woman attracts me, Similus, whether she be in her prime, or elderly. If she be young she will clasp me, if she be old and wrinkled, me fellabit.
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§ 5.39 NICARCHUS Must I not die? What care I if I go to Hades with gouty legs or in training for a race? I shall have many to carry me; so let me become lame, if I wish. As far as that goes, as you see, I am quite easy, and never miss a banquet.
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§ 5.40 NICARCHUS Don't listen to your mother, Philumena; for once I am off and out of the town, pay no attention to those who make fun of us, but give them tit for tat, and try to be more successful than I was. Leave no stone unturned, make your own living, and write and tell me what pleasances you have visited. Try and behave with propriety. If you have anything over, pay the rent and get a coat for me. If you get with child, bring it to the birth, I entreat you. Don't be troubled about that: when it grows up it will find out who its father was.
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§ 5.41 RUFINUS Who beat you and turned you out half-naked like this? Who had so stony a heart and no eyes to see? Perhaps he arrived inopportunely and found you with a lover. That is a thing that happens; all women do it, my child. But henceforth when someone is in, and he is out, bolt the outer door, lest the same thing happen to you again.
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§ 5.42 RUFINUS I dislike a woman who is too facile and I dislike one who is too prudish. The one consents too quickly, the other too slowly.
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§ 5.43 RUFINUS Does any man turn his girl out of doors half-dressed, just because he finds a lover with her, — just as if he had never been guilty of adultery, as if he were a Pythagorean? And, so, my dear child, you will spoil your face with crying, will you, and shiver outside the maniac's door? Wipe your eyes and stop crying, my dear, and we'll find another who is not so good at seeing things and at beating.
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§ 5.44 RUFINUS Lembion and Kerkurion, the two whores, are always riding off the harbour of Samos. Fly, all ye youth, from Aphrodite's corsairs; he who engages, and is sunk, is swallowed up.
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§ 5.45 CILLACTOR A young girl increases her little store not by her art, but by her nature.
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§ 5.46 PHILODEMUS He. Good-evening. She. Good-evening. He. What may your name be? She. And yours? He. Don't be so inquisitive all at once. She. Well don't you. He. Are you engaged? She. To anyone that likes me. He. Will you come to supper tonight? She. If you like. He. Very well! How much shall it be? She. Don't give me anything in advance. He. That is strange. She. Give me what you think right after sleeping with me. He. That is quite fair. Where do you live? I will send. She. I will tell you. He. And when will you come? She. Any time you like. He. I would like now. She. Then go on in front.
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§ 5.47 RUFINUS I often prayed, Thalia, to have you with me at night and satisfy my passion by fervent caresses. And, now you are close to me naked with your sweet limbs, I am all languid and drowsy. O wretched spirit, what hath befallen thee? Awake and faint not. Some day shalt thou seek in vain this supreme felicity.
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§ 5.48 RUFINUS Golden are her eyes and her cheeks like crystal, and her mouth more delightful than a red rose. Her neck is of marble and her bosom polished; her feet are whiter than silver Thetis. If here and there the thistle-down glistens amid her dark locks, I heed not the white aftermath.

Via ToposText (topostext.org), a project of the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation created by Brady Kiesling. Translated by William Roger Paton (1857-1921). Composed ca. 900 CE. Licence: public domain. Source.