Tautēi

prison-of-socrates
Prison of Socrates, Athens

[ΣΩΚΡΑΤΗΣ. ΚΡΙΤΩΝ]

ΣΩΚΡ. Καὶ γὰρ ἄν, ὦ Κρίτων, πλημμελὲς εἴη ἀγανακτεῖν τηλικοῦτον ὄντα εἰ δεῖ ἤδη τελευτᾶν.
ΚΡΙΤ. καὶ ἄλλοι, ὦ Σώκρατες, τηλικοῦτοι ἐν τοιαύταις συμφοραῖς ἁλίσκονται, ἀλλ᾽ οὐδὲν αὐτοὺς ἐπιλύεται ἡ ἡλικία τὸ μὴ οὐχὶ ἀγανακτεῖν τῇ παρούσῃ τύχῃ.
ΣΩΚΡ. ἔστι ταῦτα. ἀλλὰ τί δὴ οὕτω πρῲ ἀφῖξαι;
ΚΡΙΤ. ἀγγελίαν, ὦ Σώκρατες, φέρων χαλεπήν, οὐ σοί, ὡς ἐμοὶ φαίνεται, ἀλλ’ ἐμοὶ καὶ τοῖς σοῖς ἐπιτηδείοις πᾶσιν καὶ χαλεπὴν καὶ βαρεῖαν, ἣν ἐγώ, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκῶ, ἐν τοῖς βαρύτατ’ ἂν ἐνέγκαιμι.
ΣΩΚΡ. τίνα ταύτην; ἢ τὸ πλοῖον ἀφῖκται ἐκ Δήλου, οὗ δεῖ ἀφικομένου τεθνάναι με;
ΚΡΙΤ. οὔτοι δὴ ἀφῖκται, ἀλλὰ δοκεῖν μέν μοι ἥξει τήμερον ἐξ ὧν ἀπαγγέλλουσιν ἥκοντές τινες ἀπὸ Σουνίου καὶ καταλιπόντες ἐκεῖ αὐτό. δῆλον οὖν ἐκ τούτων τῶν ἀγγέλων ὅτι ἥξει τήμερον, καὶ ἀνάγκη δὴ εἰς αὔριον ἔσται, ὦ Σώκρατες, τὸν βίον σε τελευτᾶν.
ΣΩΚΡ. ἀλλ’, ὦ Κρίτων, τύχῃ ἀγαθῇ, εἰ ταύτῃ τοῖς θεοῖς φίλον, ταύτῃ ἔστω· οὐ μέντοι οἶμαι ἥξειν αὐτὸ τήμερον.
ΚΡΙΤ. πόθεν τοῦτο τεκμαίρῃ;
ΣΩΚΡ. ἐγώ σοι ἐρῶ. τῇ γάρ που ὑστεραίᾳ δεῖ με ἀποθνῄσκειν ἢ ᾗ ἂν ἔλθῃ τὸ πλοῖον.
ΚΡΙΤ. φασί γέ τοι δὴ οἱ τούτων κύριοι.
ΣΩΚΡ. οὐ τοίνυν τῆς ἐπιούσης ἡμέρας οἶμαι αὐτὸ ἥξειν ἀλλὰ τῆς ἑτέρας. τεκμαίρομαι δὲ ἔκ τινος ἐνυπνίου ὃ ἑώρακα ὀλίγον πρότερον ταύτης τῆς νυκτός· καὶ κινδυνεύεις ἐν καιρῷ τινι οὐκ ἐγεῖραί με.
ΚΡΙΤ. ἦν δὲ δὴ τί τὸ ἐνύπνιον;
ΣΩΚΡ. ἐδόκει τίς μοι γυνὴ προσελθοῦσα καλὴ καὶ εὐειδής, λευκὰ ἱμάτια ἔχουσα, καλέσαι με καὶ εἰπεῖν· “ὦ Σώκρατες,
ἤματί κεν τριτάτῳ Φθίην ἐρίβωλον ἵκοιο”. [Homer, Il. 9.363]
ΚΡΙΤ. ἄτοπον τὸ ἐνύπνιον, ὦ Σώκρατες.
ΣΩΚΡ. ἐναργὲς μὲν οὖν, ὥς γέ μοι δοκεῖ, ὦ Κρίτων.
ΚΡΙΤ. λίαν γε, ὡς ἔοικεν. ἀλλ’, ὦ δαιμόνιε Σώκρατες, ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐμοὶ πιθοῦ καὶ σώθητι· ὡς ἐμοί, ἐὰν σὺ ἀποθάνῃς, οὐ μία συμφορά ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ χωρὶς μὲν τοῦ ἐστερῆσθαι τοιούτου ἐπιτηδείου οἷον ἐγὼ οὐδένα μή ποτε εὑρήσω, ἔτι δὲ καὶ πολλοῖς δόξω, οἳ ἐμὲ καὶ σὲ μὴ σαφῶς ἴσασιν, ὡς οἷός τ’ ὤν σε σῴζειν εἰ ἤθελον ἀναλίσκειν χρήματα, ἀμελῆσαι. καίτοι τίς ἂν αἰσχίων εἴη ταύτης δόξα ἢ δοκεῖν χρήματα περὶ πλείονος ποιεῖσθαι ἢ φίλους; οὐ γὰρ πείσονται οἱ πολλοὶ ὡς σὺ αὐτὸς οὐκ ἠθέλησας ἀπιέναι ἐνθένδε ἡμῶν προθυμουμένων.
(Plato, Crito 43b-44c)

[SOCRATES. CRITO.]

SOCR. Well, Crito, it would be absurd if at my age I were disturbed because I must die now.
CRIT. Other men as old, Socrates, become involved in similar misfortunes, but their age does not in the least prevent them from being disturbed by their fate.
SOCR. That is true. But why have you come so early?
CRIT. To bring news, Socrates, sad news, though apparently not sad to you, but sad and grievous me and all your friends, and to few of them, I think, so grievous as to me.
SOCR. What is this news? Has the ship come from Delos, at the arrival of which I am to die?
CRIT. It has not exactly come, but I think it will come today from the reports of some men who have come from Sunium and left it there. Now it is clear from what they say that it will come today, and so tomorrow, Socrates, your life must end.
SOCR. Well, Crito, good luck be with us! If this is the will of the gods, so be it. However, I do not think it will come today.
CRIT. What is your reason for not thinking so?
SOCR. I will tell you. I must die on the day after the ship comes in, must I not?
CRIT. So those say who have charge of these matters.
SOCR. Well, I think it will not come in today, but tomorrow. And my reason for this is a dream which I had a little while ago in the course of this night. And perhaps you let me sleep just at the right time.
CRIT. What was the dream?
SOCR. I dreamed that a beautiful, fair woman, clothed in white raiment, came to me and called me and said, “Socrates,
on the third day thou wouldst come to fertile Phthia.”
CRIT. A strange dream, Socrates.
SOCR. No, a clear one, at any rate, I think, Crito.
CRIT. Too clear, apparently. But, my dear Socrates, even now listen to me and save yourself. Since, if you die, it will be no mere single misfortune to me, but I shall lose a friend such as I can never find again, and besides, many persons who do not know you and me well will think I could have saved you if I had been willing to spend money, but that I would not take the trouble. And yet what reputation could be more disgraceful than that of considering one’s money of more importance than one’s friends? For most people will not believe that we were eager to help you to go away from here, but you refused.
(tr. Harold North Fowler)

Eksigēsin

Sep_13_17_pastors_blog

Περὶ τῆς καθ’ Ὅμηρον ἐχεμυθίας διὰ τούτων σαφῶς δείκνυται· λέγει γάρ,
“Θερσῖτ’ ἀκριτόμυθε, λιγύς περ ἐὼν ἀγορητὴς
ἴσχεο, μηδ’ ἔθελ’ οἶος ἐριζέμεναι βασιλῆϊ.” [Homer, Il. 2.246-247, misquoted (βασιλεῦσιν)]
καὶ τοῦ Τηλεμάχου εἰπόντος,
“ἦ μάλα τις θεῶν ἔνδον, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν,” [Homer, Od. 19.40, misquoted (θεὸς)]
ἐπιλαμβανόμενος ὁ πατὴρ ἔφη,
“σίγα καὶ κατὰ σὸν νόον ἴσχανε μηδ’ ἐρέεινε·
αὕτη τοι δίκη ἐστὶ θεῶν οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσι.” [Homer, Od. 19.42-43]
τοῦτο ἐκσίγησιν οἱ Πυθαγορικοὶ καλοῦντες οὐδὲν ἀπεκρίνοντο τοῖς περὶ θεῶν ὅ τι τύχοιεν ἰταμῶς καὶ εὐχερῶς ἐρωτῶσι.
(Plutarch, fr. 207)

Homer’s approval of “holding the tongue” is clearly shown by the following lines: he writes,
“Thersites, unconsidered are your words;
Keep quiet, ready speaker though you be,
Nor wish alone to wrangle with the king.”
And when Telemachus said,
“Some god’s within, a dweller in wide heaven,”
his father restrained him with the words,
“Silence! Repress your thought and ask no questions;
The dwellers in Olympus have this right.”
The Pythagoreans called this “firm silence,” and gave no answer to those who, recklessly and without qualms, put indiscriminate questions about the gods. (tr. Francis Henry Sandbach)

Haplōs

toppic

Ἑνὸς οὖν ἄξιον ἐπιμνησθῆναι βασιλέως καὶ ἤθους καὶ ἔργου· καὶ γὰρ ἀποχρῶν ὁτιοῦν πάντα συνεφελκύσασθαι. λέγεται δή τινα τῶν οὐ λίαν ἀρχαίων, ἀλλ’ ὃν ἂν εἰδεῖεν καὶ τῶν γερόντων οἱ πάπποι, εἰ μὴ νέοι τοὺς παῖδας ἐτέκνωσαν, καὶ παρὰ νέων τῶν παίδων ἐγένοντο πάπποι· λέγεται δή τινα ἐκείνων στρατείαν μὲν ἄγειν ἐπὶ τὸν Ἀρσακίδην εἰς Ῥωμαίους ὑβρίσαντα· ἐπειδὴ δὲ πρὸς ταῖς ὑπερβολαῖς τῶν Ἀρμενίων γενέσθαι, πρὶν ἐπιχειρῆσαι τῇ πολεμίᾳ, δείπνου τε αὐτὸν ἐρασθῆναι, καὶ ἐπιτάξαι τῇ στρατιᾷ τοῖς ἀπὸ τῶν σκευοφόρων ἀγαθοῖς χρῆσθαι, ὡς ἐγγύθεν ἐπισιτιουμένοις, ἢν δέῃ. ἐδείκνυε δὲ ἄρα τοὺς Παρθυαίων ἀγρούς· ἐν τούτῳ δὲ ὄντων, πρεσβείαν ἐκ τῶν πολεμίων παρεῖναι καὶ οἴεσθαι μὲν ἥκουσαν προεντεύξεσθαι τοῖς βασιλεῖ παραδυναστεύουσι, καὶ τούτων γε αὖ πελάταις τισὶ καὶ εἰσαγγελεῦσιν, ὡς εἰς ἡμέραν πολλοστὴν ἀπ’ ἐκείνης τοῦ βασιλέως τῇ πρεσβείᾳ χρηματιοῦντος· συνενεχθῆναι δὲ κατ’ αὐτόν πως γενέσθαι τὸν βασιλέα δειπνοῦντα. οὐ γὰρ ἦν πω τὸ τῶν δορυφόρων τοιοῦτον, ἀπὸ τῆς στρατιᾶς στρατιά τις ἔκκριτος, νέοι πάντες, πάντες εὐμήκεις, τὰς κόμας ξανθοί τε καὶ περιττοί, “αἰεὶ δὲ λιπαροὶ κεφαλὰς καὶ καλὰ πρόσωπα” [Homer, Od. 15.332], χρυσάσπιδες καὶ χρυσεολόγχαι, οἷς, ὅταν ποτὲ ὀφθῶσι, τὸν βασιλέα σημαινόμεθα, καθάπερ, οἶμαι, ταῖς προανισχούσαις ἀκτῖσι τὸν ἥλιον· ἀλλὰ πᾶσα φάλαγξ τὸ οἰκεῖον ποιοῦσα, δορυφόρος ἦν τοῦ βασιλέως τε καὶ τῆς βασιλείας. οἱ δὲ ἁπλῶς ἑαυτῶν εἶχον, οὐκ ἀπὸ τῆς σκευῆς, ἀλλ’ ἀπὸ τῆς ψυχῆς βασιλεῖς ὄντες, καὶ τἄνδον τοῦ πλήθους διέφερον· τὰ δὲ ἐκτὸς ὅμοιοι τοῖς ἀγελαίοις ἐφαίνοντο, ὥσπερ ἔχοντά φασι τὸν Καρῖνον ὑπὸ τῆς πρεσβείας ὀφθῆναι. φοινικοβαφὴς χιτών, καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς πόας ἐκέκλιτο· τὸ δὲ δεῖπνον ἦν πίσινον ἕωλον ἔτνος, καὶ ἐν αὐτῷ τεμάχια ἄττα ταρίχη κρεῶν ὑείων, ἀπολελαυκότα τοῦ χρόνου. ἰδόντα δὲ αὐτόν, οὔτε ἀναθορεῖν οὔτε μεταποιῆσαί τι λέγεται· καλέσαντα δὲ αὐτόθεν τοὺς ἄνδρας, εἰδέναι τε φάναι παρ’ αὐτὸν ἥκοντας· αὐτὸς γὰρ εἶναι Καρῖνος· καὶ κελεύειν ἀπαγγεῖλαι τῷ νέῳ βασιλεῖ τήμερον, εἰ μὴ σωφρονήσοι, προσδέχεσθαι πᾶν μὲν ἄλσος αὐτῷ, πᾶν δὲ πεδίον ἐν μιᾷ σελήνῃ ψιλότερον ἔσεσθαι τῆς Καρίνου κεφαλῆς· ἅμα δὲ λέγοντά φασιν ἐκδῦναι τοῦ πίλου, δεικνύντα τὴν κεφαλὴν οὐδέν τι δασυτέραν παρακειμένου τοῦ κράνους· καὶ εἰ μὲν πεινῷεν, ἐφεῖναι συνεμβαλεῖν τῇ χύτρᾳ· μὴ δεομένους δέ, κελεύειν αὐθωρὸν ἀπηλλάχθαι καὶ ἔξω τοῦ Ῥωμαϊκοῦ χάρακος εἶναι, ὡς τῆς πρεσβείας αὐτοῖς τέλος εὑρούσης. λέγεται τοίνυν καὶ τούτων ἀνενεχθέντων ἐπὶ τὸ πλῆθος καὶ τὸν ἡγεμόνα τῶν πολεμίων, ὧν τε εἶδον ὧν τε ἤκουσαν, ὅπερ εἰκὸς ἦν συμβῆναι, φρίκην καὶ δέος ἐπιπεσεῖν ἅπασιν, εἰ πρὸς ἄνδρας μαχοῦνται τοιούτους, ὧν ὁ βασιλεὺς οὔτε βασιλεὺς ὢν οὔτε φαλακρὸς αἰσχύνεται, καὶ χύτραν παρατιθέμενος συνδείπνους καλεῖ· ἀφικέσθαι δὲ τὸν βασιλέα τὸν ἀλαζόνα κατορρωδήσαντα, πάντα εἴκειν ἕτοιμον ὄντα, τὸν ἐν τιάρᾳ καὶ κάνδυι τῷ μετὰ χιτῶνος φαύλων ἐρίων καὶ πίλου.
(Synesius, Peri Basileias 12.3-7)

It is therefore worthwhile to make mention of the character and achievements of a certain king, for any particular story will suffice to draw all others along in its wake. It is told of one of no great antiquity but such an one as even the grandfathers of our own elders might have known if only they had not begotten their children when young, and not become grandparents during the youth of their own children. It is said, then, that a certain monarch of those days was leading an expedition against the Parthians, who had behaved towards the Romans in an insulting manner. Now when they had reached the mountain frontiers of Armenia, before entering the enemy country, he was eager to dine, and gave orders to the army to make use of the provisions in the supply column, as they were now in a position to live off the neighboring country should it be necessary. He was then pointing out to them the land of the Parthians. Now, while they were so engaged, an embassy appeared from the enemy lines, thinking on their arrival to have the first conversation with the influential men who surrounded the king, and after these with some dependants and gentleman ushers, but supposing that only on a much later day would the king himself give audience to the embassy. However, it turned out somehow that the king was dining at the moment. Such a thing did not exist at that time as the Guards’ regiment, a sort of picked force detached from the army itself, of men all young, tall, fair-haired and superb, “their heads ever anointed and their faces fair,” equipped with golden shields and golden lances. At the sight of these we are made aware beforehand of the king’s approach, much as, I imagine, we recognize the sun by the rays that rise above the horizon. Here, in contrast, every phalanx doing its duty, was the guard of the king and kingdom. And these kings held themselves in simple fashion, for they were kings not in pomp but in spirit, and it was only within that they differed from other people. Externally they appeared in the likeness of the herd, and it was in such guise, they say, that Carinus was seen by the embassy. A tunic dyed in purple was lying on the grass, and for repast he had a soup of yesterday’s peas, and in some bits of salted pork that had grown old in the service. Now when he saw them, according to the story, he did not spring up, nor did he change anything; but called out to these men from the very spot and said that he knew that they had come to see him, for that he was Carinus; and he bade them tell the young king [Bahram II] that very day, that unless he conducted himself wisely, he might expect that the whole of their forest and plain would be in a single month barer than the head of Carinus. And as he spoke, they say that he took off his cap and showed his head, which was no more hairy than the helmet lying at his side. And he gave them leave if they were hungry to attack the stew-pot with him, but if not in need, he ordered them to depart at once, and to leave the Roman lines, as their mission was at an end. Now it is said that when these messages were reported to the rank and file and to the leader of the enemy, namely all that had been seen and heard, at once -as might have been expected- shuddering and fear fell upon everyone at the thought of fighting men such as these, whose very king was neither ashamed of being king nor of being bald, and who, offering them a stew-pot, invited them to share his meal. And their braggart king arrived in a state of terror and was ready to yield in everything, he of the tiara and robes, to one in a simple woolen tunic and cap. (tr. Augustine Fitzgerald)

Paidagōgos

Paedagogus en jongen, 3e-2e eeuw vC

Ἐμὲ δὲ ὑγρὸν βλέπειν ῥιπτοῦντα πανταχοῦ τὰ ὄμματα, ὅπως ὑμῖν καλός, οὔτι τὴν ψυχήν, ἀλλὰ τὸ πρόσωπον ὀφθείην, ὁ τρόπος οὐ συγχωρεῖ. ἔστι γάρ, ὡς ὑμεῖς κρίνετε, ψυχῆς ἀληθινὸν κάλλος ὑγρότης βίου. ἐμὲ δὲ ὁ παιδαγωγὸς ἐδίδασκεν εἰς γῆν βλέπειν ἐς διδασκάλου φοιτῶντα· θέατρον δ’ οὐκ εἶδον πρὶν μᾶλλον κομῆσαι τῆς κεφαλῆς τὸ γένειον, ἐν ἐκείνῳ δὲ τῆς ἡλικίας ἰδίᾳ μὲν καὶ κατ̓ ἐμαυτὸν οὐδέποτε, τρίτον δὲ ἢ τέταρτον, εὖ ἴστε, Πατρόκλῳ ἐπίηρα φέρων ἅρχων ἐπέταττεν οἰκεῖος ὢν ἐμοὶ καὶ ἀναγκαῖος· ἐτύγχανον δὲ ἰδιώτης ἔτι· σύγγνωτε οὖν ἐμοί· δίδωμι γὰρ ὃν ἀντ’ ἐμοῦ δικαιότερον μισήσετε τὸν φιλαπεχθήμονα παιδαγωγόν, ὅς με καὶ τότε ἐλύπει μίαν ὁδὸν ἰέναι διδάσκων καὶ νῦν αἴτιός ἐστί μοι τῆς πρὸς ὑμᾶς ἀπεχθείας, ἐνεργασάμενος τῇ ψυχῇ καὶ ὥσπερ ἐντυπώσας ὅπερ ἐγὼ μὲν οὐκ ἐβουλόμην τότε, ὁ δὲ ὡς δή τι χαρίεν ποιῶν μάλα προθύμως ἐνετίθει, καλῶν οἶμαι σεμνότητα τὴν ἀγροικίαν καὶ σωφροσύνην τὴν ἀναισθησίαν, ἀνδρείαν δὲ τὸ μὴ εἴκειν ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις μηδ’ εὐδαίμονα ταύτῃ γίνεσθαι. ἔφη δέ μοι πολλάκις, εὖ ἴστε, ναὶ μὰ Δία καὶ μούσας, ὁ παιδαγωγὸς ἔτι παιδαρίῳ κομιδῇ, Μή σε παραπειθέτω τὸ πλῆθος τῶν ἡλικιωτῶν ἐπὶ τὰ θέατρα φερόμενον ὀρεχθῆναί ποτε ταυτησὶ τῆς θέας. ἱπποδρομίας ἐπιθυμεῖς; ἔστι παρ’ Ὁμήρῳ δεξιώτατα πεποιημένη· λαβὼν ἐπέξιθι τὸ βιβλίον. τοὺς παντομίμους ἀκούεις ὀρχηστάς; ἔα χαίρειν αὐτούς· ἀνδρικώτερον παρὰ τοῖς Φαίαξιν ὀρχεῖται τὰ μειράκια· σὺ δ’ ἔχεις κιθαρῳδὸν τὸν Φήμιον καὶ ᾠδὸν τὸν Δημόδοκον. ἔστι καὶ φυτὰ παῤ αὐτῷ πολλὰ τερπνότερα ἀκοῦσαι τῶν ὁρωμένων·
Δήλῳ δή ποτε τοῖον Ἀπόλλωνος παρὰ βωμὸν
Φοίνικος νέον ἔρνος ἀνερχόμενον ἐνόησα. [Homer, Od. 6.162-163]
καὶ ἡ δενδρήεσσα τῆς Καλυψοῦς νῆσος καὶ τὰ τῆς Κίρκης σπήλαια καὶ ὁ Ἀλκίνου κῆπος· εὖ ἴσθι, τούτων οὐδὲν ὄψει τερπνότερον. ἆρα ποθεῖτε καὶ τοὔνομα ὑμῖν φράσω τοῦ παιδαγωγοῦ, καὶ ὅστις ὢν γένος ταῦτα ἔλεγε; βάρβαρος νὴ θεοὺς καὶ θεάς, Σκύθης μὲν τὸ γένος, ὁμώνυμος δὲ τοῦ τὸν Ξέρξην ἀναπείσαντος ἐπὶ τὴν Ἑλλάδα στρατεῦσαι, καὶ τὸ πολυθρύλητον τοῦτο δὴ πρὸ μηνῶν μὲν εἴκοσι προσκυνούμενον ὄνομα, νυνὶ δὲ προφερόμενον ἀντ̓ ἀδικήματος καὶ ὀνείδους, εὐνοῦχος ἦν, ὑπὸ τὠμῷ τεθραμμένος πάππῳ, τὴν μητέρα τὴν ἐμὴν ὅπως ἀγάγοι διὰ τῶν Ὁμήρου καὶ Ἡσιόδου ποιημάτων. ἐπεὶ δ’ ἐκείνη πρῶτον ἐμὲ καὶ μόνον τεκοῦσα μησὶν ὕστερον ὀλίγοις ἐτελεύτησεν ὑπὸ τῆς ἀμήτορος παρθένου πολλῶν συμφορῶν ἐκκλαπεῖσα κόρη καὶ νέα, μετ’ ἐνιαυτὸν ἕβδομον αὐτῷ παρεδόθην. οὗτος ἐξ ἐκείνου ταῦτα ἀνέπεισεν ἄγων ἐς διδασκάλου μίαν ὁδόν· ἄλλην δ’ οὔτ’ αὐτὸς εἰδέναι θέλων οὔτ’ ἐμοὶ βαδίζειν ξυγχωρῶν ἐποίησεν ἀπεχθάνεσθαί με πᾶσιν ὑμῖν.
(Julian, Misopōgōn 351a-352c)

No, my temperament does not allow me to look wanton, casting my eyes in all directions in order that in your sight I may appear beautiful, not indeed in soul but in face. For, in your judgment, true beauty of soul consists in a wanton life. I, however, was taught by my tutor to look on the ground when I was on my way to school; and as for a theatre, I never saw one until I had more hair on my chin than on my head, and even at that age it was never on my own account and by my own wish, but three or four times, you must know, the governor who was my kinsman and near relative, “doing a favour to Patroclus,” ordered me to attend; it was while I was still a private individual. Therefore forgive me. For I hand over to you instead of myself one whom you will more justly detest, I mean that curmudgeon my tutor who even used to harass me by teaching me to walk in one straight path and now he is responsible for my quarrel with you. It was he who wrought in my soul and as it were carved therein what I did not then desire, though he was very zealous in implanting it, as though he were producing some charming characteristic; and boorishness he called dignity, lack of taste he called sobriety, and not yielding to one’s desires or achieving happiness by that means he called manliness. I assure you, by Zeus and the Muses, that while I was still a mere boy my tutor would often say to me: “Never let the crowd of your playmates who flock to the theatres lead you into the mistake of craving for such spectacles as these. Have you a passion for horse races? There is one in Homer, very cleverly described. Take the book and study it. Do you hear them talking about dancers in pantomime? Leave them alone! Among the Phaeacians the youths dance in more manly fashion. And for citharode you have Phemius; for singer Demodocus. Moreover there are in Homer many plants more delightful to hear of than those that we can see: ‘Even so did I once see the young shoot of a date palm springing up near the altar of Apollo on Delos.’ And consider the wooded island of Calypso and the caves of Circe and the garden of Alcinous; be assured that you will never see anything more delightful than these.” And now do you want me to tell you also my tutor’s name and the nationality of the man who used to say these things? He was a barbarian, by the gods and goddesses; by birth he was a Scythian, and he had the same name as the man who persuaded Xerxes to invade Greece. Moreover he was a eunuch, a word which, twenty months ago, was constantly heard and revered, though it is now applied as an insult and a term of abuse. He had been brought up under the patronage of my grandfather, in order that he might instruct my mother in the poems of Homer and Hesiod. And since she, after giving birth to me her first and only child, died a few months later, snatched away while she was still a young girl by the motherless maiden from so many misfortunes that were to come, I was handed over to him after my seventh year. From that time he won me over to these views of his, and led me to school by one straight path; and since neither he himself desired to know any other nor allowed me to travel by any other path, it is he who has caused me to be hated by all of you. (tr. Wilmer Cave Wright)

Aspermos

Henry Howard (kopie naar), Poseidon komt tussenbeide in de Trojaanse oorlog, 1805

Δεύτερος αὖτ’ Ἀχιλεὺς προΐει δολιχόσκιον ἔγχος,
καὶ βάλεν Αἰνείαο κατ’ ἀσπίδα πάντοσ’ ἐΐσην
ἄντυγ’ ὕπο πρώτην, ᾗ λεπτότατος θέε χαλκός,
λεπτοτάτη δ’ ἐπέην ῥινὸς βοός· ἣ δὲ διὰ πρὸ
Πηλιὰς ἤϊξεν μελίη, λάκε δ’ ἀσπὶς ὑπ᾽ αὐτῆς.
Αἰνείας δ’ ἐάλη καὶ ἀπὸ ἕθεν ἀσπίδ’ ἀνέσχε
δείσας· ἐγχείη δ᾽ ἄρ’ ὑπὲρ νώτου ἐνὶ γαίῃ
ἔστη ἱεμένη, διὰ δ’ ἀμφοτέρους ἕλε κύκλους
ἀσπίδος ἀμφιβρότης· ὃ δ’ ἀλευάμενος δόρυ μακρὸν
ἔστη, κὰδ δ’ ἄχος οἱ χύτο μυρίον ὀφθαλμοῖσι,
ταρβήσας ὅ οἱ ἄγχι πάγη βέλος. αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς
ἐμμεμαὼς ἐπόρουσεν ἐρυσσάμενος ξίφος ὀξὺ
σμερδαλέα ἰάχων· ὃ δὲ χερμάδιον λάβε χειρὶ
Αἰνείας, μέγα ἔργον, ὃ οὐ δύο γ’ ἄνδρε φέροιεν,
οἷοι νῦν βροτοί εἰσ’· ὃ δέ μιν ῥέα πάλλε καὶ οἶος.
ἔνθά κεν Αἰνείας μὲν ἐπεσσύμενον βάλε πέτρῳ
ἢ κόρυθ’ ἠὲ σάκος, τό οἱ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,
τὸν δέ κε Πηλεΐδης σχεδὸν ἄορι θυμὸν ἀπηύρα,
εἰ μὴ ἄρ’ ὀξὺ νόησε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων·
αὐτίκα δ’ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπεν·
“ὢ πόποι ἦ μοι ἄχος μεγαλήτορος Αἰνείαο,
ὃς τάχα Πηλεΐωνι δαμεὶς Ἄϊδος δὲ κάτεισι
πειθόμενος μύθοισιν Ἀπόλλωνος ἑκάτοιο
νήπιος, οὐδέ τί οἱ χραισμήσει λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον.
ἀλλὰ τί ἢ νῦν οὗτος ἀναίτιος ἄλγεα πάσχει
μὰψ ἕνεκ’ ἀλλοτρίων ἀχέων, κεχαρισμένα δ’ αἰεὶ
δῶρα θεοῖσι δίδωσι τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν;
ἀλλ’ ἄγεθ’ ἡμεῖς πέρ μιν ὑπὲκ θανάτου ἀγάγωμεν,
μή πως καὶ Κρονίδης κεχολώσεται, αἴ κεν Ἀχιλλεὺς
τόνδε κατακτείνῃ· μόριμον δέ οἵ ἐστ’ ἀλέασθαι,
ὄφρα μὴ ἄσπερμος γενεὴ καὶ ἄφαντος ὄληται
Δαρδάνου, ὃν Κρονίδης περὶ πάντων φίλατο παίδων
οἳ ἕθεν ἐξεγένοντο γυναικῶν τε θνητάων.
ἤδη γὰρ Πριάμου γενεὴν ἔχθηρε Κρονίων·
νῦν δὲ δὴ Αἰνείαο βίη Τρώεσσιν ἀνάξει
καὶ παίδων παῖδες, τοί κεν μετόπισθε γένωνται.”
(Homer, Iliad 20.273-308)

Achilles next—he hurled his spear and its long shadow flew
and the weapon struck the balanced round shield of Aeneas
under the outer rim where the bronze ran thinnest,
backed by the thinnest bull’s-hide. Straight through
the Pelian ash burst, the shield rang out with a screech—
but Aeneas crouched low, holding the buckler off his chest,
terrified as the shaft shot past his back, hurled so hard
it plunged deep in the ground, even after it tore up
two round plies of the shield that cased his body.
Dodging the big spear, Aeneas got to his feet…
a dizzying swirl of anguish rushing down his eyes,
blind with fear, the point had stuck so close.
But drawing his sharp sword, Achilles charged, wild,
hurtling toward him, loosing a savage cry as Aeneas
hefted a boulder in his hands, a tremendous feat—
no two men could hoist it, weak as men are now,
but all on his own he raised it high with ease.
Then and there he’d have struck Achilles lunging in,
the rock would have hit him square in casque or shield,
the gear would have warded off grim death, and Achilles, closing,
would have slashed his life away with a well-honed blade—
if the god of earthquakes had not marked it quickly
and called the gods at once who grouped around him:
“Now, I tell you, my heart aches for great Aeneas!
He’ll go down to the House of Death this instant,
overwhelmed by Achilles—all because he trusted
the distant deadly Archer’s urgings. Poor fool—
as if Apollo would lift a hand to save him now
from death, grim death. Aeneas the innocent!
Why should Aeneas suffer here, for no good reason,
embroiled in the quarrels of others, not his own?
He always gave us gifts to warm our hearts,
gifts for the gods who rule the vaulting skies.
So come, let us rescue him from death ourselves,
for fear the son of Cronus might just tower in rage
if Achilles kills this man. He is destined to survive.
Yes, so the generation of Dardanus will not perish,
obliterated without an heir, without a trace:
Dardanus, dearest to Zeus of all the sons
that mortal women brought to birth for Father.
Now he has come to hate the generation of Priam.
and now Aeneas will rule the men of Troy in power—
his sons’ sons and the sons born in future years.”
(tr. Robert Fagles)

Niphades

snow stones

Ὣς τώ γε προβοῶντε μάχην ὄτρυνον Ἀχαιῶν.
τῶν δ’, ὥς τε νιφάδες χιόνος πίπτωσι θαμειαὶ
ἤματι χειμερίῳ, ὅτε τ’ ὤρετο μητίετα Ζεὺς
νιφέμεν, ἀνθρώποισι πιφαυσκόμενος τὰ ἃ κῆλα·
κοιμήσας δ’ ἀνέμους χέει ἔμπεδον, ὄφρα καλύψῃ
ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων κορυφὰς καὶ πρώονας ἄκρους
καὶ πεδία λωτοῦντα καὶ ἀνδρῶν πίονα ἔργα,
καί τ’ ἐφ’ ἁλὸς πολιῆς κέχυται λιμέσιν τε καὶ ἀκταῖς,
κῦμα δέ μιν προσπλάζον ἐρύκεται· ἄλλα τε πάντα
εἴλυται καθύπερθ’, ὅτ’ ἐπιβρίσῃ Διὸς ὄμβρος·
ὣς τῶν ἀμφοτέρωσε λίθοι πωτῶντο θαμειαί,
αἱ μὲν ἄρ’ ἐς Τρῶας, αἱ δ’ ἐκ Τρώων ἐς Ἀχαιούς,
βαλλομένων· τὸ δὲ τεῖχος ὕπερ πᾶν δοῦπος ὀρώρει.
(Homer, Il. 12.277-289)

So their cries urged on the Achaeans’ war-lust.
Thick-and-fast as the snows that fall on a winter dawn
when Zeus who rules the world brings on a blizzard,
displaying to all mankind his weaponry of war…
and he puts the winds to sleep, drifting on and on
until he has shrouded over the mountains’ looming peaks
and the headlands jutting sharp, the lowlands deep in grass
and the rich plowed work of farming men, and the drifts fall
on the gray salt surf and the harbors and down along the beaches
and only breakers beating against the drifts can hold them off
but all else on the earth they cover over, snows from the sky
when Zeus comes storming down—now so thick-and-fast
they volleyed rocks from both sides, some at the Trojans,
some from Trojans against the Argives, salvos landing,
the whole long rampart thundering under blows.
(tr. Robert Fagles)

Meligērun

(c) Manchester City Galleries; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation
William Etty, The Sirens and Ulysses (1837)

“Δεῦρ᾽ ἄγ’ ἰών, πολύαιν’ Ὀδυσεῦ, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
νῆα κατάστησον, ἵνα νωϊτέρην ὄπ’ ἀκούσῃς.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
πρίν γ’ ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπ’ ἀκοῦσαι,
ἀλλ’ ὅ γε τερψάμενος νεῖται καὶ πλείονα εἰδώς.
ἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθ’ ὅσ’ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν,
ἴδμεν δ’, ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.”
(Homer, Od. 12.184-191)

‘Come closer, famous Odysseus—Achaea’s pride and glory—
moor your ship on our coast so you can hear our song!
Never has any sailor passed our shores in his black craft
until he has heard the honeyed voices pouring from our lips,
and once he hears to his heart’s content sails on, a wiser man.
We know all the pains that Achaeans and Trojans once endured
on the spreading plain of Troy when the gods willed it so—
all that comes to pass on the fertile earth, we know it all!’
(tr. Robert Fagles)