Greek Anthology Book 16 Planudean

ToposText · Greek Anthology · 394 sections

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§ 95 DAMAGETUS: The lion is from Nemea, but the stranger is of Argive blood; the one far the most valiant of beasts, the other of demi-gods. They come to the conflict glaring askance at each other, each about to fight for his life. Father Zeus, may the victory be the Argive man’s, that Nemea be again accessible.
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§ 96 ANONYMOUS On Heracles and the Maenalian Hind What first and what next shall my mind marvel at, what lastly shall my eyes admire in the portraiture of the man and hind? He, mounting on the beast’s loins, rests all the weight of his knee on her, grasping with his hands her beautifully branched antlers, while she, panting hard with open jaws and forced breath, tells of her heart’s anguish by her tongue. Rejoice, Heracles; the whole hind now glitters, not her horns alone golden, but fashioned all of gold by Art.
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§ 97 ANONYMOUS On Heracles and Antaeus Who moulded this bronze that groans, and by the power of his art thus figured effort and daring? The statue is alive, and' I pity him who is in distress, and shudder at Heracles the bold and mighty; for he holds Antaeus sore pressed by the grip of his hands, and the giant doubled up seems even to be groaning.
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§ 98 ANONYMOUS On Heracles in his Cups He who is now weighed down with sleep and the wine-cup, when sober slew the Centaurs heavy with wine.
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§ 99 ANONYMOUS On the same This subduer of all, of whom, telling of his twelve labours, men sing because of his mighty valour, now after the feast is heavy with wine, and rolls along unsteady in his gait from drink, conquered by soft Bacchus, the loosener of the limbs.
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§ 100 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of King Lysimachus Seeing the man’s flowing locks, and the club, and the dauntless spirit in his eyes, and the fierce frown on his brow, seek for the lion’s skin in the portrait, and if thou findest it, it is Heracles; but if not, this is the picture of Lysimachus.
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§ 101 ANONYMOUS On a Picture of Heracles As Heracles was when Theiodamas met him of old, even so did the artist portray the son of Zeus dragging off the ox from the plough and lifting up his club on high, but he did not paint the wicked murder of the ox. Yea, perchance he drew Theiodamas with a plaintive cry on his lips, hearing which Heracles spares the steer’s life.
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§ 102 ANONYMOUS On a Statue or Statues of Heracles Even as the son of Cronos sowed thee on the night of three moons; even as Eurystheus saw thee, thy labours accomplished; even as from the flame thou didst go in triumph to Olympus, so, O Alcides, hard toiler, do we look on thee in thine image. The stone's are the birth-pangs of Alcmene, and too boastful Thebes is now less worthy of belief than fables.
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§ 103 GEMINUS On a Statue of Heracles HERACLES, where is thy great club, where thy Nemean cloak and thy quiver full of arrows, where is thy stern glower? Why did Lysippus mould thee thus with dejected visage and alloy the bronze with pain? Thou art in distress, stripped of thy arms. Who was it that laid thee low? Winged Love, of a truth one of thy heavy labours.
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§ 104 PHILIPPUS On the same So Hera, then, wished for this to crown all his labours, the sight of doughty Heracles stripped of his arms! Where is the lion -skin cloak, where the quiver of loud-whizzing arrows on his shoulder and the heavy-footed branch, the slayer of beasts? Love has stripped thee of all, and it is not strange that, having made Zeus a swan, he deprived Heracles of his weapons.
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§ 105 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Theseus and the Bull of Marathon Marvellous is the art of the bull and man: lie, the man, his limbs all tense, forces down by his might the savage beast. To bend back the sinews of its neck he grasps with his left hand its nostrils, with his right its horn, and shakes up the neck-bones. The beast, its neck subdued by his strong hands, sinks down on its hindquarters. One may fancy that in this bronze Art makes the beast breathe and bathes the man in sweat.
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§ 106 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Capaneus Had Capaneus been like this when he furiously attacked the towers of Thebes, contriving to mount through the air on a ladder, he would have taken the city by force in Fate’s despite; for even the bolt of Zeus would have deemed it shame to slay such a champion.
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§ 107 JULIANUS On a Bronze Statue of Icarus which stood in a Bath Icarus, wax caused thy death, and now by wax the worker in bronze has restored thee to thy shape. But beat not thy wings in the air, lest thou fall from the sky and give thy name to the bath.
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§ 108 BY THE SAME On the same Icarus, remember thou art of bronze, and let neither art nor the pair of wings on thy shoulders delude thee; for if, when alive, thou didst fall into the depths of the sea, how canst thou wish to fly when formed of bronze?
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§ 109 AGATHIAS on Hippolytus conversing with Phaedra's Nurse Hippolytus speaks into the old wife’s ear pitiless words, but we cannot hear them. But as far as we can understand from the fury in his eyes, he enjoins her not to say again unlawful words.
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§ 109 11O. PHILOSTRATUS On a Picture of Telephus Wounded THIS, the irresistible chieftain of Teuthrania; this Telephus who once bathed in blood the terrible host of the Greeks when he filled Mysian Caycus to overflowing with slaughter; this, the champion who faced the spear of Peleus, now bearing hidden deep in his thigh a heavy and deadly wound, wastes away as if his life were leaving him, dragging himself along with his living flesh. Even though he be sore hurt the Greeks tremble at him, and depart in disorder from the Teuthranian shore.
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§ 111 GLAUCUS On a Picture of Philoctetes Parrhasius painted this, Philoctetes’ likeness, after verily seeing the long-suffering hero from Trachis. For in his dry eyes there lurks a mute tear, and the wearing pain dwells inside. O best of painters, great is thy skill, but it was time to give rest from his pains to the much tried man.
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§ 112 ANONYMOUS On a Bronze Statue of the same My foe, more than the Greeks, was my maker, a second Odysseus, who put me in mind again of my evil, accursed hurt. They were not enough, the rock-cave, the rags, the pus, the sore, the misery, but he wrought in the brass even the pain.
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§ 113 JULIANUS On a Picture of the same I KNOW Philoctetes when I look on him, for he makes manifest his pain to all, even to those who gaze on him from a distance. He is all shaggy like a wild man; look at the locks of his head, squalid and harsh-coloured. His skin is parched and shrunk to look at, and perchance feels dry even to the finger’s touch. Beneath his dry eyes the tears stand frozen, the sign of sleepless agony.
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§ 114 COSMAS On Pyrrhus about to butcher Polyxena I AM Pyrrhus, and am urgent for my fathers sake; but she, the shameless girl, calls on Pallas, though her brother be Paris.
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§ 115 ANONYMOUS On the Centaur Chiron A horse is shed forth from a man, and a man springs up from a horse; a man without feet and a swift horse without a head; a horse belches out a man, and a man farts out a horse.
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§ 116 EVODUS On the same There were a horse without a head and a man lying unfinished: Nature, in sport, grafted him on the swift horse.
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§ 117 CORNELIUS LONGINUS On a Painting of Cynaegirus Phasis did not paint thee, blest Cynaegirus, as Cynaegirus, since thou hast sturdy hands in this his offering. Yet the painter was a skilful one, and did not deprive of thy hands thee who art immortal because of thy hands.
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§ 118 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS On the same The hands that dealt death to the Medes were hewn off by axes as they rested on the curved stern of the ship which was hastening away, then, Cynaegirus, when that flying vessel was held by thy hand as if by a cable. But even so, gripping tight the ship’s timber, they accompanied the Persians, a lifeless terror to them. Some barbarian took the hands, but their victory remained with the inhabitants of Mopsopia.
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§ 119 POSIDIPPUS On a Statue of Alexander of Macedon LYSIPPUS, sculptor of Sicyon, bold hand, cunning craftsman, its glance is of fire, that bronze thou didst cast in the form of Alexander. No longer do we blame the Persians: cattle may be pardoned for flying before a lion.
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§ 120 ARCHELAUS OR ASCLEPIADES On the same Lysippus modelled Alexander’s daring and his whole form. How great is the power of this bronze! The brazen king seems to be gazing at Zeus and about to say, “I set Earth under my feet; thyself, Zeus, possess Olympus.”
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§ 121 Anonymous On the same Imagine that thou seest Alexander himself; so flash his very eyes in the bronze, so lives his dauntless mien. He alone subjected to the throne of Pella all the earth which the rays of Zeus look on from heaven.
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§ 122 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the same as a Child Here seest thou newly-born Alexander, the son of great-hearted Philip, him the bold-spirited to whom Olympias of old gave birth, to whom from his cradle Ares taught the labours of war and whom Fortune called to the throne.
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§ 123 ANONYMOUS: No, by Heracles the ox -eater, ye country lads, no longer shall wily wolves set their feet here, and thieves shall refuse to tread the path of pilfering, even if the villagers lie in imprudent sleep. For Dionysius withal, not without a vow, hath set me, Heracles, here to be the place’s good defender.
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§ 124 Anonymous On a Statue of Heracles Tremble not, traveller, at this, that I have unsheathed my bow and newly sharpened arrows and laid them at my feet, nor that I bear a club in my hand and wear round my shoulders the skin of a tawny lion. It is not my task to hurt all men, but only evil-doers, and I also can deliver the good from sorrow.
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§ 125 ANONYMOUS Oh a Picture of Ulysses Ever is the sea unkind to the son of Laertes; the flood hath bathed the picture and washed off the figure from the wood. What did it gain thereby? For in Homer’s verse the image of him is painted on immortal pages.
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§ 126 ANONYMOUS On the Minotaur The bull -boy, in no respect complete, he who betrays his mother’s passion, the man half-beast, the double nature, the bull -headed, the freak of bodies, who is neither a whole ox nor a whole man.
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§ 127 ANONYMOUS: Who moulded in bronze this one-shoed Thracian Lycurgus, the chieftain of the Edones? 2 Look how, in his insolent fury, standing by the stem of Bacchus’ vine, he holds high over his head his heavy axe. His pose speaks of his old overboldness, and even in the brass his insolent fury has that bitterness we look for.
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§ 128 ANONYMOUS On Iphigenia Iphigenia rageth furiously, but the face of Orestes recalls her to the sweet memory of kinship. Being stirred by wrath, and gazing, too, at her brother, her glance is as of one carried away by mixed fury and pity.
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§ 129 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Niobe From a living being the gods made me a stone, but Praxiteles from a stone made me alive again.
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§ 130 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On a Picture of the same Thou seest the veritable shape of unhappy Niobe as if she were still bewailing the fate of her children. But if it is not given to her to have a soul, blame not the artist for this: he portrayed a woman of stone.
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§ 131 ANTIPATER (OF THESSALONICA?) On the same This is the daughter of Tantalus, who of old bore from a single womb twice seven children, victims of Phoebus and Artemis: for the Maiden sent untimely death to the maiden, the male god to the boys, the two slaying two companies of seven. She, once the mother of such a flock, the mother of lovely children, was not left with one to tend her age. The mother was not, as was meet, buried by her children, but the children all were carried by their mother to the sorrowful tomb. Tantalus, thy tongue was fatal to thee and to thy daughter; she became a rock, and over thee hangs a stone to terrify thee.
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§ 132 THEODORIDAS On the same Stand near, stranger, and weep when thou lookest on the infinite mourning of Niobe, the daughter of Tantalus, who held not her tongue under lock and key; whose brood of twelve children is laid low now on earth, these by the arrows of Phoebus, and those by the arrows of Artemis. Now, her form compounded of stone and flesh, she is become a rock, and high-built Sipylus groans. A guileful plague to mortals is the tongue whose unbridled madness gives birth often to calamity.
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§ 133 ANTIPATER (OF SIDON) On the same WHY, woman, dost thou lift up to Olympus thy shameless hand, and let thy divine hair fall loose from thy godless head? Looking now on the heavy wrath of Leto, O mother of many children, bemoan thy bitter and froward strife. One of thy daughters is gasping beside thee, one lies lifeless, and heavy death is nigh descending on another. Yea, and this is not yet the end of thy woe, but the swarm of thy male children lies low likewise in death. O Niobe, weeping for the heavy day that gave thee birth, thou shalt be a lifeless rock consumed by sorrow.
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§ 134 MELEAGER On the same: Niobe, daughter of Tantalus, hearken to my word, the announcer of woe; receive the most mournful tale of thy sorrows. Loose the fillet of thy hair; thy male children, alas! thou didst bear but to fall by the woe-working arrows of Phoebus. Thy boys are no more. But what is this other thing? What do I see? Alack! alack! the flood of blood has overtaken the maidens. One clasps her mother’s knees, one rests on her lap, one on the ground, and the head of one has fallen on her breast. Another is smitten with terror at the shaft flying straight to her, and one stoops before the arrows, while the rest still live and see the light. And the mother, who erst took pleasure in her tongue’s chatter, now for horror stands like a rock built of flesh.
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§ 135 ANONYMOUS On the Picture of Medea in Rome The art of Timomachus mingled the love and jealousy of Medea as she drags her children to death. She half consents as she looks at the sword, and half refuses, wishing both to save and to slay her children.
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§ 136 ANTIPHILUS On the same When the hand of Timomachus painted baleful Medea, pulled in diverse directions by jealousy and love of her children, he undertook vast labour in trying to draw her two characters, the one inclined to wrath, the other to pity. But he showed both to the full; look at the picture: in her threat dwell tears, and wrath dwells in her pity. The intention is enough, as the sage said. The blood of the children befitted Medea, not the hand of Timomachus.
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§ 137 PHILIPPUS On the same Who, lawless Colchian, chronicled thy wrath in the picture? Who wrought thee, thus barbarous even in thy image? Dost thou yet thirst for thy babes’ blood? Is some second Jason or another Glauce thy pretext? Out on thee, murderess of thy children, even in the painted wax. For the very picture feels that jealousy of thine that passed all bounds.
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§ 138 ANONYMOUS On the same Come, look on the child-murderess in a picture; look on her image, the Colchian’s, drawn by the hand of Timomachus. The sword is in her hand, great is her wrath, wild is her eye, the tears are falling for her most unhappy children. The painter has made a medley of all, uniting things most uncombinable, but he refrained from reddening his hand with blood.
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§ 139 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the same Timomachus, when he painted Medea, put two souls into the soulless image of her form. For joining her jealousy of her husband and her love for her children he shows her to our eyes dragged in diverse directions.
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§ 140 Anonymous On the same COME, look and marvel at the pity and wrath that dwell under her brow; look at the fiery orbs of her eyes; look at the mother’s hand, the hand of the bitterly suffering wife, drawn towards slaughter by a relenting impulse. The painter rightly hid from us the accomplishment of the murder, not wishing to blunt by mourning our admiration as we look on his work.
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§ 141 PHILIPPUS On the same How, twittering swallow, didst thou suffer to have as nurse of thy children the Colchian woman, the vengeful destroyer of her babes, from whose bloodshot eye still flashes murderous fire, from whose jaws white foam still drips, whose sword is freshly bathed in blood? Fly from the fatal mother, who even in the wax is still slaying her children.
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§ 142 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the same Though of stone thou art frenzied, and the fury of thy heart has hollowed thy eyes and made them meet to. express thy anger. Yet not even thy base shall hold thee back, but thou shalt leap forward in thy wrath, mad because of thy children. Oh! who was the artist or sculptor who moulded this, who by his skill sent a stone mad?
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§ 143 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA On the Picture of the same This is the picture of Medea. See how one eye is raised in wrath, but the other is softened by affection for her children.
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§ 144 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On Atalanta and Hippomenes Hast thou thrown this golden gift to the maiden, Hippomenes, as a wedding present, or to delay her fleet feet? The apple accomplished both, since it both delayed the girl in her course and was a token of Aphrodite, who links in wedlock.
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§ 145 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Ariadne No mortal was thy sculptor, but he carved thee even as thy lover Bacchus saw thee reclining on the rock.
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§ 146 ANONYMOUS On the same STRANGERS, touch not this stone Ariadne, lest she leap up seeking Theseus.
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§ 147 ANTIPHILUS On a Painting of Andromeda The land is Ethiopian; he with the winged sandals is Perseus; she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda; the face is the Gorgon’s, whose glance turns men to stone; the sea-monster is the task set by Love, she who boasted of her child’s beauty is Cassiopea. Andromeda releases from the rock her feet inured to numbness and dead, and her suitor carries off the bride his prize.
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§ 148 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On the same Did Cepheus or the painter expose Andromeda on the rocks, for the judgment of the eye is indecisive? And was the monster drawn as we see it on the curving crag, or did it rise out of the neighbouring sea? I see: a skilled man made these things; he was indeed clever thus to deceive our eyes and our wits.
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§ 149 Bv THE SAME On a Picture of Helen This is the lovely form of Argive Helen, whom of old the cowherd carried away, spurning Zeus who protects host and guest.
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§ 150 POLLIANUS: This is the Polyxena of Polycleitus, and no other hand touched this divine picture. It is a twin sister of his Hera. See how, her robe being torn, she covers her nakedness with her modest hand. The unhappy maiden is supplicating for her life, and in her eyes lies all the Trojan War.
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§ 151 ANONYMOUS On a Painting of Dido Thou seest, O stranger, the exact likeness of far-famed Dido, a portrait shining with divine beauty. Even so I was, but had not such a character as thou hearest, having gained glory rather for reputable things. For neither did I ever set eyes on Aeneas nor did I reach Libya at the time of the sack of Troy, but to escape a forced marriage with Iarbas I plunged the two-edged sword into my heart. Ye Muses, why did ye arm chaste Virgil against me to slander thus falsely my virtue?
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§ 152 GAURADAS: Dear Echo, grant me somewhat. What? I love a girl, but do not think she loves. She loves. But to do it Time gives me not good chance. Good chance. Do thou then tell her I love her, if so be thy will. I will. And here is a pledge in the shape of cash I beg thee to hand over. Hand over. Echo, what remains but to succeed?—Succeed.
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§ 153 SATYR US On a Statue of Echo Tongueless Echo sings in the shepherd’s meadow, her voice taking up and responding to the notes of the birds.
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§ 154 LUCIAN OR ARCHIAS On the same'Tis Echo of the rocks thou seest, my friend, the companion of Pan, singing back to us a responsive note, the garrulous counterfeit of every kind of tongue, the shepherds’ sweet toy. After hearing every word thou utterest, begone.
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§ 155 EVODUS On the same Echo the mimic, the lees of the voice, the tail of a word.
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§ 156 ANONYMOUS On the same An Arcadian goddess am I, and I dwell by the portals of Dionysus, returning vocal responses. For no longer, dear Bacchus, do I hate thy companion. Come, Pan, let us talk in unison.
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§ 157 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the Statue of the armed Athena at Athens Why', Tritogeneia, dost thou put on armour in the middle of the city? Poseidon has yielded to thee. Spare the land of Cecrops.
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§ 158 DIOTIMUS: I am Artemis fashioned in the form that befits me, and well does the brass itself tell that I am the daughter of Zeus and of no other. Consider the maiden’s audacity. Verily thou wouldst say that the whole earth is a hunting-ground too small for her.
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§ 159 ANONYMOUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite of Praxiteles Who gave a soul to marble? Who saw Cypris on earth? Who wrought such love-longing in a stone? This must be the work of Praxiteles * hands, or else perchance Olympus is bereaved since the Paphian has descended to Cnidus.
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§ 160 PLATO On the same Paphian Cytherea came through the waves to Cnidus, wishing to see her own image, and having viewed it from all sides in its open shrine, she cried, “Where did Praxiteles see me naked?” Praxiteles did not look on forbidden things, but the steel carved the Paphian as Ares would have her.
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§ 161 BY THE SAME On the same Neither did Praxiteles nor the chisel work thee, but so thou standest as of old when thou earnest to judgment.
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§ 162 ANONYMOUS On the same CYPRIS, seeing Cypris in Cnidus, said, “Alas! alas! where did Praxiteles see me naked?”
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§ 163 LUCIAN On the same None ever saw the Paphian naked, but if anyone did, it is this man who here erected the naked Paphian.
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§ 164 BY THE SAME: To thee, Cypris, I dedicate the beautiful image of thy form, since I have nothing better than thy form.
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§ 165 EVENUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite Pallas and the consort of Zeus said, when they saw the Cnidian, “We are wrong in finding fault with Paris.”
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§ 166 BY THE SAME On the same The neatherd alone saw of old on the mountains of Ida her who gained the prize of beauty, but Praxiteles has set her in full view of the Cnidians, having the vote of Paris to attest his skill.
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§ 167 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the same and on Praxiteles’ Statue of Eros at Thespiae You will say, when you look on Cypris in rocky Cnidus, that she, though of stone, may set a stone on fire; but when you see the sweet Love in Thespiae you will say that he will not only set fire to a stone, but to cold adamant. Such were the gods Praxiteles made, each in a different continent, that everything should not be burnt up by the double fire.
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§ 168 ANONYMOUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite Paris, Anchises, and Adonis saw me naked. Those are all I know of, but how did Praxiteles contrive it?
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§ 169 ANONYMOUS On the same and on the Athena in Athens Gaze from every side at the divine beauty of the foam-born Paphian and you will say, “I applaud the Phrygian’s judgment.” Again when you look at the Attic Pallas you will cry out, “It was just like a neatherd for Paris to pass her by.”
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§ 170 HERMODORUS On the same When you see, stranger, the Cnidian Cytherea, you would say this, “Rule alone over mortals and immortals/* but when you look at Pallas in the city of Cecrops boldly brandishing her spear you will exclaim, “ Paris was really a bumpkin.”
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§ 171 LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA On Armed Aphrodite WHY, Cytherea, hast thou put on these arms of Ares, bearing this useless weight? For, naked thyself, thou didst disarm Ares himself, and if a god has been vanquished by thee it is in vain that thou takest up arms against mortals.
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§ 172 ALEXANDER OF AETOLIA On a Statue of Aphrodite Pallas herself, I think, wrought Aphrodite to perfection, forgetting the judgment of Paris.
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§ 173 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the Armed Aphrodite in Sparta Cypris has ever learnt to carry a quiver and bow, and to ply the far-shooting archer’s craft. Is it from reverence for the laws of warlike Lycurgus that, bringing her love-charms to Sparta, she comes clad in armour for close combat? But ye, daughters of Sparta, venerating in your chambers the arms of Cytherea, bring forth courageous sons.
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§ 174 ANONYMOUS On the same PALLAS, seeing Cytherea in arms, said, “ Cypris, wouldst thou that we went to the judgment so?” But she, with a gentle smile, answered, “Why should I lift up a shield in combat? If I conquer when naked, how will it be when I arm myself?”
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§ 175 ANTIPATER On the same Either the stone statue, as being Aphrodite, armed itself, or perhaps rather Aphrodite saw the statue and swore, “Would I were it.”
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§ 176 By THE SAME On the same Cypris belongs to Sparta too, but her statue is not, as in other cities, draped in soft folds. No, on her head she wears a helmet instead of a veil, and bears a spear instead of golden branches. For it is not meet that she should be without arms, who is the spouse of Thracian Ares and a Lacedaemonian.
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§ 177 PHILIPPUS On the same Laughter-loving Aphrodite, minister of the bridal chamber, who girt thee, honey-sweet goddess that thou art, with the weapons of war? To thee the Paean is dear, and golden-haired Hymenaeus and the dulcet charm of shrill-voiced flutes. Why hast thou put on these engines of murder? Is it that thou hast despoiled bold Ares to boast how great is the might of Cypris?
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§ 178 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the Aphrodite Anadyomene of Apelles Look on the work of Apelles' pencil: Cypris, just rising from the sea, her mother; how, grasping her dripping hair with her hand, she wrings the foam from the wet locks. Athena and Hera themselves will now say, “No longer do we enter the contest of beauty with thee.’*
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§ 179 ARCHIAS On the same Apelles saw Cypris herself brought forth by the sea, her nurse; and so he drew her, still wringing with her fresh hands her locks soaked with the foam of the waters.
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§ 180 DEMOCRITUS On the same When Cypris, her hair dripping with the salt foam, rose naked from the purple waves, even in this wise holding her tresses with both hands close to her white cheeks, she wrung out the brine of the Aegean, showing only her bosom, that indeed it is lawful to look on; but if she be like this, let the wrath of Ares be confounded.
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§ 181 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the same The Paphian has but now come forth from the sea’s womb, delivered by Apelles * midwife hand. But back quickly from the picture, lest thou be wetted by the foam that drips from her tresses as she wrings them. If Cypris looked thus when she stripped for the apple, Pallas was unrighteous in laying Troy waste.
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§ 182 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM On the same Apelles having seen Cypris, the giver of marriage blessing, just escaped from her mother’s bosom and still wet with bubbling foam, figured her in her most delightsome loveliness, not painted, but alive. With beautiful grace doth she wring out her hair with her finger-tips, beautifully doth calm love flash from her eyes, and her paps, the heralds of her prime, are firm as quinces. Athena herself and the consort of Zeus shall say, “O Zeus, we are worsted in the judgment.”
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§ 183 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Dionysus which stood near Athena A. “Tell me what hast thou in common with Pallas; for to her javelins and wars, to thee banquets are exceeding dear.” B. “Do not rashly, O stranger, ask such questions about the gods, but learn in how many ways I am like to this goddess. For the glory of wars is dear to me likewise; all India, subdued by me as far as the Eastern Ocean, knows it. The race of mortals, too, have we gifted, she with the olive, and I with the sweet clusters of the vine. Neither again did a mother suffer the pangs of labour for me, but I burst from our father’s thigh, she from his head.”
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§ 184 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA On another Statue of the same I, DIONYSUS, the fellow-soldier of Italian Piso, am set here to guard his house and bring him good fortune. A worthy house hast thou entered, Dionysus. Meet is the house for Bacchus, and Bacchus for the house.
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§ 185 ANONYMOUS On Statues of Dionysus and Heracles Both are from Thebes, both warriors, and both sons of Zeus. The one wields well his thyrsus, the other his club. The statues of both are close together and like are the arms they bear, the one a fawn-skin, the other a lion -skin; cymbals the one, a rattle2 the other. To both Hera was a cruel goddess, and both through fire went from earth to the immortals.
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§ 186 XENOCRATES On a Statue of Hermes Swift Hermes is my name, but in the wrestling-school set me not up without arms and feet; or how shall I be swift, and how shall I spar correctly, if I stand on a base deprived of both? 8
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§ 187 ANONYMOUS On another of the same A CERTAIN man prayed for help to a wooden Hermes, and Hermes remained wooden. Then, taking him up, the man threw him on the ground, and, the sfhtue breaking, out from it poured gold. Outrage often produces profit.
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§ 188 NICIAS On Another I, HERMES, whose domain is Cyllene’s steep, forest-clad hill, stand here guarding the pleasant playground; and on me the boys often set marjoram and hyacinths and fresh wreaths of violets.
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§ 189 BY THE SAME On a Statue of Pan Having left the slopes of Maenalus I abide here, for Peristratus’ sake, to guard the hives, on the watch for him who would rob the bees. But keep clear of my hand and the nimble stride of my country-bred shanks.
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§ 190 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM On a Statue of Hermes Morichus the goatherd set me up, Hermes the overseer, to be the approved guardian of his fold. But, ye nannies who have taken your fill of green herbage on the mountains, heed not now at all the ravening wolf.
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§ 191 NICAENETUS On Another I, a Hermes of our native clay and with earthern feet, was moulded on the revolving circle of the wheel; of mud was I kneaded, I will tell no lie; but, stranger, I loved the luckless labour of the potters.
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§ 192 ANONYMOUS On a Hermes by Scopas STRANGER, deem not that thou lookest on one of the vulgar crowd of Hermae; for I am the work of Scopas.
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§ 193 PHILIPPUS A. MAY I touch the kale, Cyllenian? B. No, traveller. A. Why grudge some greens? B. It is not grudging, but it is the law to keep pilfering hands from other people’s property. A. Well! that is strange. Hermes has made a new law against stealing.
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§ 194 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Love made into a Frying-pan2 Someone has transferred this brazen Love from fire to fire, fitting a frying-pan on to him, torment to torment.

Via ToposText (topostext.org), a project of the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation created by Brady Kiesling. Translated by William Roger Paton (1857-1921). Composed ca. 500 CE. Licence: public domain. Source.