§ 1.0  BOOK I CHRISTIAN EPIGRAMS
Let the pious and godly Christian Epigrams take precedence, even if the pagans are displeased.

§ 1.1  Inscribed on the Tabernacle of Hagia Sophia
The images that the heretics took down from here our pious sovereigns replaced.

§ 1.2  Inscribed on the Apse of Blachernae
The divine Justin, the husband of Sophia, to whom Christ granted the gift of restoring everything, and glory in war, finding that the temple of the Virgin Mother was tottering, took the decayed part to pieces and built it up again securely.

§ 1.3  On the same
This lovely temple shining with beauty the earlier Justin built to the Mother of God. A later Justin during his reign endowed it with more than its former splendour.

§ 1.4  On the Temple of St. John the Baptist ("the Forerunner") in the property of Studius
Studius built this fair house to John the great servant of Christ, and quickly gained the reward of his work by obtaining the consular fasces.

§ 1.5  On the Church of St. Thomas the Apostle in the property of Amantius
This house thou didst make for God, Amantius, in the middle of the sea, combating the swirling waves. Nor south nor north wind shall shake thy holy house, guarded as it is by this divine temple. May thy days be many; for thou by invading the sea hast made New Rome more glorious.

§ 1.6  On the Church of St. Theodore in the land of Sphoracius
Sphoracius having escaped from a fire built this temple to the Martyr.

§ 1.7  On the same
Sphoracius, Antolius thy nephew rejoiced in repaying during thy life thy kindness in bringing him up, and now thou art dead ever pays thee grateful honour; so that he found for thee a new honour, and laid thee in the temple thou thyself didst build.

§ 1.8  On the Church of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul near St. Sergius in the property of Hormisdas
Honouring the King of Kings, Christ, with his works, Justinian built this glorious temple to Peter and Paul, for by giving honour to His servants a man offereth great glory to the King Himself. Here is profit for the soul and for the eyes. Let each get what he hath need of by his prayers, and take joy in looking at the beauty and splendour of the house.

§ 1.9  On the Church of St. Michael in Bothreptus
And this celebrated work too is the fruit of thy toil, skilled Gerradius. For thou didst reveal to us anew the lovely temple of the captain of the angelic host.

§ 1.10  On the Church of the Holy Martyr Polyeuctus
Eudocia the empress, eager to honour God, first built here a temple of Polyeuctus the servant of God. But she did not make it as great and beautiful as it is, not from any economy or lack of possessions — what doth a queen lack? — but because her prophetic soul told her that she should leave a family well knowing how better to adorn it. Whence Juliana, the glory of her blessed parents, inheriting their royal blood in the fourth generation, did not defeat the hopes of the Queen, the mother of a noble race, but raised this from a small temple to its present size and beauty, increasing the glory of her many-sceptred ancestors; for all that she made, she made more magnificent than they, holding the true faith of a mind devoted to Christ. Who hath not heard of Juliana, how in her pious care she glorified even her parents by fair-fashioned works? All alone by her righteous toil she built a worthy house to immortal Polyeuctus, for she had ever studied to give blameless gifts to all athletes of the Heavenly King. Every country cries, every city, that she made her parents more glorious by better works. Where do we not find that Juliana hath raised splendid temples to the Saints? Where do we not see the signs of the pious hand of thee alone? What place hath not learnt that thy mind is full of piety? The inhabitants of the whole world sing thy works, which are eternally remembered. For the works of piety are not hidden; oblivion doth not quench the labours of beneficent virtue. Not even thyself knoweth how many houses dedicated to God thy hand hath made; for thou alone, I ween, didst build innumerable temples all over the world, ever fearing the servants of God in Heaven. Following by her good works all the footsteps of her parents she made the fame of her race immortal, always walking in the whole path of piety. Therefore, all ye servants of the Heavenly King to whom she gave gifts or built temples, preserve her gladly with her son and his daughters, and may the immeasurable glory of the most beneficent family survive as long as the Sun drives his burning chariot.
At the Entrance of the same Church, outside the Narthex towards the Apse: What quire is sufficient to chant the works of Juliana, who after Constantine, the adorner of his Rome, and after the holy golden light of Theodosius, and after so many royal ancestors, in a few years accomplished a work worthy of her race, yea, more than worthy? She alone did violence to Time and surpassed the wisdom of renowned Solomon by raising a habitation for God, whose glittering and elaborate beauty the ages cannot celebrate — how it rises from its deep-rooted foundations, running up from the ground and aspiring to the stars of heaven, and how from east to west it extends itself glittering with unspeakable brightness in the sunlight on both its sides! On either side of its aisle columns standing on firm columns support the rays of the golden dome, while on each side arched recesses scattered on the dome reproduce the ever-revolving light of the moon. The opposite walls in innumerable paths are clothed in marvellous metallic veins of colour, like flowery meadows which Nature made to flower in the depth of the rock, and hid their glory, keeping them for the House of God, to be the gift of Juliana, so that she might produce a divine work, following in her toil the stainless dictates of her heart. What singer of skilful works shall now hasten to the west, armed with a hundred eyes, and read aright the various devices on the walls, gazing on the circle of the shining house, one story set on another? There you may see a marvellous creation of the holy pencils above the centre of the porch, the wise Constantine, how escaping from the idols he quenched the impious fury of the heathen and found the light of the Trinity by cleansing his limbs in water. Such is the labour that Juliana, after a countless swarm of labours, accomplished for the souls of her parents, and for her own life, and for that of those who are and shall be.

§ 1.11  On the Church of the Saints Cosmas and Damian in the district of Basiliscus
I, thy servant Sophia, O Christ, offer this gift to thy servants. Receive thine own, and to my emperor Justin give in payment therefor victory on victory over diseases and the barbarians.

§ 1.12  On St. Euphemia of Olubrius
I am the House of the Trinity, and three generations built me. First Eudoxia, the daughter of Theodosius, having escaped from war and the barbarians, erected and dedicated me to God in acknowledgement of her rescue from distress. Next her daughter Placidia with her most blessed husband adorned me. Thirdly, if perchance my beauty was at all deficient in splendour, munificent Juliana invested me with it in memory of her parents, and bestowed the height of glory on her mother and father and her mother's illustrious mother by augmenting my former adornment. Thus was I made.

§ 1.13  In the same Church, inside the Gallery
I had loveliness before, but now in addition to my former beauty I have acquired greater splendour.

§ 1.14  Another
Thus did Juliana, after her mother and grandmother, scrape off my coat of old age, and I have new bloom.

§ 1.15  Another
There was then something more beautful than beauty, since my fabric, even formerly of world-wide celebrity, was advanced to a beauty greater than its former splendour by Juliana, so that now it rivals the stars.

§ 1.16  Another
Juliana had the Martyr herself, the Patroness of the church, to inspire and help the artificers. For never would she have accomplished otherwise so vast and beautiful a work, full of heavenly splendour.

§ 1.17  Another
No longer dost thou marvel at the glory of them who are passed away: by their art they did not leave a fame so great as is the glory of wise Juliana, who by her work surpassed the skilled design of her ancestors.

§ 1.18  On an Uncertain Object
I am the good circle of good Agathonike .... and she dedicated me to the immaculate Martyr Trophimus.

§ 1.19  CLAUDIANUS
To the Saviour
O Thou Who guardest the wise womb of the everflowing fire, Who art enthroned on the revolving necessity of the Universe, Christ, vivifying Source of the divinely appointed life, first begotten Voice of God the ineffable Father, Who, after the burden of Thy Mother's pangs and the self-accomplished birth from a marriage without bridegroom, didst arrest the heterodox rage of the Syrian race, and dissolve the falsely named rites of empty idols, and then didst ascend the seven-zoned belt of heaven seated on the unspeakable angelic wings, have mercy on me, venerated Eye of God, the Maker of all things, Keeper of life, Saviour of men, Lord of Eternity.

§ 1.20  CLAUDIANUS to the Lord Christ
Newly revealed, Lord of the sky, born of old time, new-born Son, ever existing and pre-existing, highest and last, Christ, coeval with Thy immortal Father, in all ways like Him.

§ 1.21  To the same
Child, old man, born before the ages, coeval with the Father.

§ 1.22  To the same
All-wise Word of the heavenly Father, Lord of the world, Who didst honour the race of mankind by Thy image, grant us Thy grace and Thy help that bestoweth blessings; for the eyes of all look to Thee in hope.

§ 1.23  [By Marinus] To the same
Son, co-eternal with the immortal Father, Lord of all, who rulest over all things in Heaven, in Sea, and on Earth, give to Thy servant Marinus who wrote this book the grace of eloquence and wisdom of speech.

§ 1.24  To the same
Enthroned with Thy Father and the good Spirit and like unto Them without beginning, King of all that is, was, and shall be, give Thy grace unto him who wrote this, that by Thy precepts he may walk rightly in the path of his life.

§ 1.25  To the same
Christ, Wisdom of God, Ruler and Governor of the world, Creator of old of our human stock, vouchsafe to me to run the race of life in the way of Thy commandments.

§ 1.26  To the same
Son of God, who rulest on high, eternal Light that lighteneth, give me Thy grace now and after and ever, for that is the root of all for him to whom Thou shalt grant it in such manner as is best.

§ 1.27  To the same
Almighty Son of God, Christ, without beginning and existing before all, Who dost make to gush forth fountains of salvation for all mankind, listen to the prayers of Thy Virgin Mother, and grant us Thy grace in word and deed.

§ 1.28  [By Marinus] To the same
Christ, Wisdom of God, endow with the grace of eloquence and make skilled in wisdom of speech Marinus, who wrote this volume with his own hand, a medicine for folly and guide to right diction.

§ 1.29  To the same
Shed, O Christ, Thy grace on my works. Christ shall be the helper of even my works. May Christ stretch out a helping hand to my labour. Christ, send me Thy help full of blessing. Christ, Thyself give Thy grace to my work.

§ 1.30  To the same
Blessed Christ, eternal Light of men, Hope of all, give good to them who are in need of it, and keep away evil.

§ 1.31  To the Most Holy Mother of God
O Queen, holding in thy arms thy almighty Child, the Son of God, before Whom the angels tremble, and making Him merciful in mind to men, guard Him and keep therewith the whole world safe from trouble.

§ 1.32  To the Archangel Michael
Here is kept the divine help for wretched men, afflicted in mind or body. For vexing trouble at once is put to flight, Michael, by thy name, thy image, or thy house.

§ 1.33  NILUS SCHOLASTICUS
On an Image of the Archangel How daring it is to picture the incorporeal! But yet the image leads us up to spiritual recollection of celestial beings.

§ 1.34  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
On another on the Island of Plate:
Greatly daring was the wax that formed the image of the invisible Prince of the Angels, incorporeal in the essence of his form. But yet it is not without grace; for a man looking at the image directs his mind to a higher contemplation. No longer has he a confused veneration, but imprinting the image in himself he fears him as if he were present. The eyes stir up the depths of the spirit, and Art can convey by colours the prayers of the soul.

§ 1.35  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
On the Archangel in the Sosthenium:
Aemilianus of Caria and John with him, Rufinus of Alexandria and Agathias of Asia having completed the fourth year of their legal studies, O Archangel, dedicated to thee, O Blessed One, thy painted image, praying that their future may be happy. Make thyself manifest in thy direction of their hopes.

§ 1.36  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS On a picture of Theodorus the Illustrious and twice Proconsul, in which he is shown receiving the insignia of office from the Archangel in Ephesus
Forgive us, O Archangel, for picturing thee, for thy face is invisible; this is but an offering of men. For by thy grace Theodorus hath his girdle of a Magister, and twice won for his prize the Proconsular chair. The picture testifies to his gratitude, for in return he expressed the image of thy beauty in colours.

§ 1.37  On the Birth of Christ
Trumpets! Lightnings! The earth trembles! but into the Virgin's womb thou didst descend with noiseless tread.

§ 1.38  On the same
The manger is Heaven, yea, greater than Heaven. Heaven is the handiwork of this child.

§ 1.39  On the Shepherds and Angels
One dance, one song for men and angels, for man and God are become one.

§ 1.40  On the Birth of Christ
The manger is Heaven, yea, greater than Heaven, for He whom it received is the King of the Heavenly ones.

§ 1.41  On the Magi
No longer do the Magi bring presents to Fire and the Sun; for this Child made Sun and Fire.

§ 1.42  On Bethlehem
Receive Him, Bethlehem, Him who, as the good prophet foretold, would come from thee to be the Ruler of all peoples.

§ 1.43  On Rachel
Why mournest thou, Rachel, shedding bitter tears? Because I see my children slain I shed tears.

§ 1.44  On the Annunciation
Hail, Maiden, full of grace, most blessed, Bride immaculate, thou shalt have in thy womb a Son conceived without a father.

§ 1.45  On the Visitation
The prophet, while yet in the womb, saw and showed by leaping that thy child was God, and his Mother gave praise.

§ 1.46  On the Presentation
Old man, receive the child who was born before Adam, who will deliver thee from this life and bring thee to eternal life.

§ 1.47  On the Baptism
From the immortal Father the most mighty Spirit came, when the Son was being baptized in the waters of Jordan.

§ 1.48  On the Transfiguration
Adam was . . .

§ 1.49  On Lazarus
Christ said "Come here," and Lazarus left Hades, recovering the breath in his dry nostrils.

§ 1.50  On the same, in Ephesus
He made the soul, and likewise fashioned the body. He brings back Lazarus from the dead into the light.

§ 1.51  On the same
It was the fourth day, and Lazarus awoke from the tomb.

§ 1.52  On Palm Sunday
Hail, daughter of Zion, and look on Christ the King seated on a foal and going swiftly to his Passion.

§ 1.53  On Easter
Christ abolished the lamb of the law, and provided an immortal sacrifice, Himself the priest and Himself the victim.

§ 1.54  On the Crucifixion
O passion, O cross, O blood that purgeth of the passions, cleanse my soul from all wickedness.

§ 1.55  On the same
He said that the Virgin should be the Virgin's Son, another Himself: Have mercy on us, Lord of pure virginity.

§ 1.56  On the Resurrection
Christ being God took away all the dead from Hell, and left Hell the destroyer alone and soulless

§ 1.57  On the Lamb of God
On the threshold of my soul is the saving blood of the Lamb. Away, Destroyer, come not near.

§ 1.58  On Gideon's Fleece One fleece has dew; it gave dew to the bowl; the same fleece is dewless. Hide hidden things in thy mind.

§ 1.59  On Moses and Pharaoh's Daughter An Egyptian woman, a hidden child, and water near by. These things are types of the Word only to the pious.

§ 1.60  On the same when he stretched forth his hands to
discomfit Amalek Why dost thou, Moses, stretch forth thy hands in the form of a cross? By this type perish both Amaleks.

§ 1.61  On the same
Defend thy Gentile wife by the well, Moses, because thou art the type of the infallible bridegroom.

§ 1.62  On the Ark passing over Jordan
The stream yielded to the golden Ark. Have mercy on us, O Christ; the Ark is a type of thy baptism here.

§ 1.63  On Hagar
Hagar, too, is of the Gentiles. But what is the angel, what is the fountain? I, too, am of the Gentiles, therefore I know these things.

§ 1.64  On the Seventy Palms and Twelve Wells
Know that the seventy palms and twelve wells of water are types of the number of Christ's disciples.

§ 1.65  On Abraham
Abraham takes his son to be sacrificed to God. Be merciful! What sacrifice doth the mind see of which this picture is a type?

§ 1.66  On Melchisedech giving wine and Bread to
Abraham "King Melchisedech, priest, who art thou that givest bread and wine? " "A type of truth."

§ 1.67  On Abraham receiving God
Here hath God only the form of a man, but later He in truth attained a human nature.

§ 1.68  On Jacob blessing Isaac
His hands have smell for the Spirit, and skin for the Letter. The mind that seeth God is pleasing to a father.

§ 1.69  On Rebecca
Only begotten bridegroom, thy Gentile bride, loving thee, leapt down from the height of an unclean body.

§ 1.70  On the same
The lady Rebecca was wooed not far from the water, because she is the type of a Gentile bride.

§ 1.71  On the Shiuiamite
The prayer of Elisha, O Shunamite, twice gave thee thy son, first from thy womb, and next from the dead.

§ 1.72  On Elijah's Mantle This skin foretells the Lamb of God, who shall be baptized here for the life of all men.

§ 1.73  On David being Anointed
I know in my heart, but fear to utter, whose father this David was called, whom thou seest anointed here.

§ 1.74  On the Blind Man
The name of the pool is Sent, but dost thou understand who is sent by whom, so that thou mayest have a perfect view?

§ 1.75  On the Samaritan Woman
No type, but a God and bridegroom here saves his Gentile bride, whom he saw beside the water.

§ 1.76  On the Wedding
God truly made wine, but the mystery of the miracle thou understandest if the spirit of Christ possesses thee.

§ 1.77  On the Widow who fed Elijah
The cruse of oil and the barrel of meal overflow because the widow has firm faith.

§ 1.78  On Peter the Apostle
Peter is the high-priest of all the high-priests of God, having received this office by the voice of God.

§ 1.79  On Paul the Apostle
Paul, having seen face to face the divine light of Heaven, filled all the Earth with infinite light.

§ 1.80  On John the Apostle
John the Divine high-priest of Ephesus, was the first who said from God that the Word was God.

§ 1.81  On the same
John first heard the Word speak and himself said that the Word was God.

§ 1.82  On the same
John, having reached the house of heavenly wisdom in which God is well pleased, said that the Word was God.

§ 1.83  On Matthew
Matthew wrote in his pages, after leaving the house of the publican, all the high marvels of the Incarnation of God.

§ 1.84  On Luke
Luke wove skillfully into the vitals of the volume the deeds of Christ which brought about eternal life.

§ 1.85  On Mark
Night no longer covers the people of Egypt, as its name signifies, since it received the light of the voice of Mark.

§ 1.86  On St. Basil
Basil had for his lot the virginity and wisdom of John, having in this a like lot with Gregory.

§ 1.87  On St. Polycarp
This is the merciful Polycarp who occupied a high priest's throne, and won truly a martyr's crown.

§ 1.88  On St. Dionysius
Thou who didst sing the hierarchic ranks of the heavenly companies and didst bring to light the mystic meaning of visible types, lightest the torch, pleasing to God, of oracles wise unto life.

§ 1.89  On St. Nicholas
Polycarp has Nicholas near him because the hands of both were ever most prompt to deeds of mercy.

§ 1.90  SOPHRONIUS PATRIARCH OF JERUSALEM
On Cyrus and Joannes To the holy martyrs, Cyrus, a past master in the art of healing, and Joannes, did Sophronius, as a slight return for his escape from a soul-distressing complaint of the eyes, dedicate this book.

§ 1.91  On the Emperor Justinian, in Ephesus By the command of Christ did John crown Justinian and admirable Theodora.

§ 1.92  BY GREGORY OF NAZIANZUS
In Caesarea in the Church of St. Basil
While Christ once slept on the ship a natural sleep, the sea was disturbed by stormy winds, and the sailors cried out in fear, "Wake, Saviour, and help us who are perishing." Then the Lord arose and bade the winds and waves be still, and it was so; and by the miracle those present understood His divine nature.

§ 1.93  In the same Church
As thou lookest on the image of the four lifegiving Virtues, stir thy mind to willing toil; for the labour of piety can draw us to a life that knows not old age.

§ 1.94  On the Death of the Holy Virgin
The disciples, their hearts uplifted by the divine command, came calling to each other in glittering robes to the house of the immaculate and blameless woman, some from the East, some from the West, others from the South, and others came from the North, seeking to inter the body of Her, the world's saviour.

§ 1.95  In Ephesus
To thee, O blessed one, from thee, I give the spoils thou gavest me in war.

§ 1.96  On a Sceptre
Worthy Amantius obtained this dignity, because he was faithful to the Emperor and delighted Christ by his fear of God.

§ 1.97  In Mettle
I am the celebrated temple of the Emperor Justin. The Consul Theodorus, the strong, thrice a Prefect, dedicated me to the Emperor and his son Justinian, the general of the whole army. 4i

§ 1.98  In the same Place
Thou seest the famous work of the Emperor Justin and of Justinian, the mighty general, glittering with the lustre of vast store of minerals. This was made by famous Theodorus, who, glorifying the city, thrice protected it by his consular office.

§ 1.99  On the Pillar of Holy Daniel on the Bosphorus
Midmost of earth and heaven stands a man, dreading not the winds that blow from all quarters . . . both feet firmly planted on the column. He is nourished by ambrosial hunger and painless thirst, ever preaching the Son of the Immaculate Mother.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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?

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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).

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 1.111  In the same Church on the Crucifixion
Dead Hell vomits up the dead, being purged by the flesh of the Lord.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 1.114  In the same Church on the Salutation
The Lord saying "Hail" to the women presages the salvation of the world.

§ 1.115  On the Virgin
A Virgin bore a Son; after a Son she was a Virgin.

§ 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.

§ 1.117  On the Blind Man
The blind, whose eyes were closed from birth, saw; for Christ came, the Grace that is all eyes.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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:

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 3.4  Polymeries 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.

§ 3.5  Cresphontes is killing Polyphonies, the slayer of his father; Merope is there holding a staff and helping her son to slay him.
Thou didst formerly slay, O Polyphonies, 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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?

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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?

§ 5.11  Anonymous
Cypris, if thou savest those at sea, save me, beloved goddess, who perish ship-wrecked on land.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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!

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 5.29  CILLACTOR
Sweet is fruition, who denies it? but when it demands money it becomes bitterer than hellebore.

§ 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!

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 5.34  PARMENION
Zeus bought Danae for gold, and I buy you for a gold coin. I can't give more than Zeus did.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 5.45  CILLACTOR
A young girl increases her little store not by her art, but by her nature.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 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.

§ 5.49  GALLUS
Lyde, who serves three men to one end, one above the belly, one below, one behind: "I'll take a pederast, a womanizer, a pervert. If you're in a hurry, and arrive with two others, you won't have to wait."

§ 5.50  Anonymous
Poverty and Love are my two woes. Poverty I will bear easily, but the fire of Cypris I cannot.

§ 5.51  Anonymous
I fell in love, I kissed, I was favoured, I enjoyed, I am loved; but who am I, and who is she, and how it befel, Cypris alone knows.

§ 5.52  DIOSCORIDES
To Love we offered the vow we made together; by an oath Arsinoe and Sosipater plighted their troth. But false is she, and her oath was vain, while his love survives, and yet the gods have not manifested their might. For a wedding song, Hymen, chant a dirge at her door, rebuking her faithless bed.

§ 5.53  DIOSCORIDES
Winning Aristonoe wounded me, dear Adonis, tearing her breasts by thy bier. If she will do me the same honour, when I die, I hesitate not; take me away with thee on thy voyage.

§ 5.54  DIOSCORIDES
Don't take her pregnant to your bed to enjoy child-begetting Love face to face. For in the middle is a great wave and you will be not a little trouble, when she is being rowed and you are going up and down. But turn her over and enjoy her rosy bottom, pretending it is sex with a man-child bedmate.

§ 5.55  DIOSCORIDES
Stretching out rosy-bottomed Doris above the bed I became immortal in the lush blossoms. For she straddled my middle with her preternatural feet and unswerving traversed the long race course of the Cyprian, gazing with sleepy eyes while they like ruddy leaves in the wind trembled as she oscillated up and down, until the white strength was poured out on both and Doris was spent, with quivering limbs.

§ 5.56  DIOSCORIDES
They drive me mad, those rosy prattling lips, soul-melting portals of the ambrosial mouth, and the eyes that flash under thick eyebrows, nets and traps of my heart, and those milky paps well-mated, full of charm, fairly formed, more delightful than any flower. But why am I pointing out bones to dogs? Midas' reeds testify to what befalls taletellers.

§ 5.57  MELEAGER
Love, if thou burnest too often my scorched soul, she will fly away; she too, cruel boy, has wings.

§ 5.58  ARCHIAS
Little Love, thou layest me waste of a truth; empty all thy quiver on me, leave not an arrow. So shalt thou slay me alone with thy shafts, and when thou wouldst shoot at another, thou shalt not find wherewith.

§ 5.59  ARCHIAS
You say "one should fly from Love." It is labour lost; how shall I on foot escape from a winged creature that pursues me close?

§ 5.60  RUFINUS
The silver-footed maiden was bathing, letting the water fall on the golden apples of her breast, smooth like curdled milk. Her rounded buttocks, their flesh more fluid than water, rolled and tossed as she moved. Her outspread hand covered swelling Eurotas, not the whole but as much as it could.

§ 5.61  RUFINUS
Playing at Condax with dark-eyed Philippa I made her laugh sweetly with all her heart. "I have thrown you," I said, "twelve, and tomorrow I will throw you another twelve or even more, as I know how." Then when she was told she came, and laughing I said to her "I wish I had called you at night too when you were coming."

§ 5.62  RUFINUS
Time has not yet quenched your beauty, but many relics of your prime survive. Your charm has not aged, nor has the loveliness departed from your bright apples or your rose. Ah! how many hearts did that once god-like beauty burn to ashes!

§ 5.63  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Antigone, I used to think you were Sicilian, but now you have become an Aetolian I have become a Mede.

§ 5.64  ASCLEPIADES
Snow, hail, make darkness, lighten, thunder, shake out upon the earth all thy black clouds! If thou slayest me, then I shall cease, but if thou lettest me live, though I pass through worse than this, I will go with music to her doors; for the god compels me who is thy master too, Zeus, he at whose bidding thou, turned to gold, didst pierce the brazen chamber.

§ 5.65  Anonymous
Zeus came as an eagle to god-like Ganymede, as a swan came he to the fair-haired mother of Helen. So there is no comparison between the two things; one person likes one, another likes the other; I like both.

§ 5.66  RUFINUS
Finding Prodike happily alone, I besought her, and clasping her ambrosial knees, "Save," I said "a man who is nearly lost, and grant me the little breath that has not left me." When I said this, she wept, but wiped away the tears and with her tender hands gently repulsed me.

§ 5.67  CAPITO
Beauty without charm only pleases us, but does not hold us; it is like a bait floating without a hook.

§ 5.68  LUCILIUS or POLEMO OF PONTUS
Either put an entire stop to loving, Eros, or else add being loved, so that you may either abolish desire or temper it.

§ 5.69  RUFINUS
When Pallas and golden-sandalled Hera looked on Maeonis, they both cried out from their hearts: "We will not strip again; one decision of the shepherd is enough; it is a disgrace to be worsted twice in the contest of beauty."

§ 5.70  RUFINUS
Thou hast the beauty of Cypris, the mouth of Peitho, the form and freshness of the spring Horae, the voice of Calliope, the wisdom and virtue of Themis, the skill of Athene. With thee, my beloved, the Graces are four.

§ 5.71  PALLADAS OF ALEXANDRIA
Zenon, since you have married the daughter of Protomachus (first in fight) and of Nicomache (conquering in fight) you have war in your house. Search for a kind seducer, a Lysimachus (deliverer from fight) who will take pity on you and deliver you from Andromache (husband-fighter) the daughter of Protomachus.

§ 5.72  PALLADAS OF ALEXANDRIA
This is life, and nothing else is; life is delight; away, dull care! Brief are the years of man. To-day wine is ours, and the dance, and flowery wreaths, and women. To-day let me live well; none knows what may be tomorrow.

§ 5.73  RUFINUS
Ye gods! I knew not that Cytherea was bathing, releasing with her hands her hair to fall upon her neck. Have mercy on me, my queen, and be not wrath with my eyes that have looked on thy immortal form. Now I see! It is Rhodoclea and not Cypris. Then whence this beauty! Thou, it would seem, hast despoiled the goddess.

§ 5.74  RUFINUS
I send thee this garland, Rhodoclea, that with my own hands I wove out of beautiful flowers. There are lilies and roses and dewy anemones, and tender narcissus and purple-gleaming violets. Wear it and cease to be vain. Both thou and the garland flower and fade.

§ 5.75  RUFINUS
Know Aphrodite that Amymone, a young girl, was my neighbour and set my heart on fire not a little. She herself would jest with me, and whenever I had the opportunity I grew venturesome. She used to blush. Well! that did not help matters; she felt the pang. With great pains I succeeded; I am told now that she is with child. So what am I to do, be off or remain?

§ 5.76  RUFINUS
Once her complexion was lovely, her breasts like the spring-tide; all were good, her ankles, her height, her forehead, her hair. But time and old age and grey locks have wrought a change and now she is not the shadow of her former self, but wears false hair and has a wrinkled face, uglier even than an old monkey's.

§ 5.77  RUFINUS
If women had as much charm when all is over as before, men would never tire of intercourse with their wives, but all women are displeasing then.

§ 5.78  PLATO
My soul was on my lips as I was kissing Agathon. Poor soul! she came hoping to cross over to him.

§ 5.79  PLATO
I throw the apple at thee, and thou, if thou lovest me from thy heart, take it and give me of thy maidenhead; but if thy thoughts be what I pray they are not, take it still and reflect how short-lived is beauty.

§ 5.80  PLATO
I am an apple; one who loves thee throws me at thee. But consent, Xanthippe; both thou and I decay.

§ 5.81  DIONYSIUS THE SOPHIST
You with the roses, rosy is your charm; but what do you sell, yourself or the roses, or both?

§ 5.82  Anonymous
Proud waitress of the bath, why dost thou bathe me so fiercely? Before I have stripped I feel the fire.

§ 5.83  Anonymous
Oh, would I were the wind, that walking on the shore thou mightest bare thy bosom and take me to thee as I blow.

§ 5.84  Anonymous
Oh, would I were a pink rose, that thy hand might pluck me to give to thy snowy breasts.

§ 5.85  ASCLEPIADES
Thou grudgest thy maidenhead? What avails it? When thou goest to Hades thou shalt find none to love thee there. The joys of Love are in the land of the living, but in Acheron, dear virgin, we shall lie dust and ashes.

§ 5.86  CLAUDIANUS
Have mercy on me, dear Phoebus; for thou, drawer of the swift bow, wast wounded by the swift arrows of Love.

§ 5.87  RUFINUS
Melissias denies she is in love, but her body cries aloud that it has received a whole quiverful of arrows. Unsteady is her step and she takes her breath in snatches, and there are dark purple hollows under her eyes. But, ye Loves, by your mother, fairwreathed Cytherea, burn the rebellious maid, till she cry, "I am burning! "

§ 5.88  RUFINUS
Fire-bearer Love, if thou canst not set two equally alight, put out or transfer the flame that burns in one.

§ 5.89  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
That is not love if one, trusting his judicious eyes, wishes to possess a beauty. But he who seeing a homely face is pierced by the arrows and loves, set alight by fury of the heart — that is love, that is fire; for beauty delights equally all who are good judges of form.

§ 5.90  Anonymous
I send thee sweet perfume, ministering to scent with scent, even as one who to Bacchus offers the flowing gift of Bacchus.

§ 5.91  Anonymous
I send thee sweet perfume, not so much honouring thee as it; for thou canst perfume the perfume.

§ 5.92  RUFINUS
Rhodope is exalted by her beauty, and if I chance to say "Good day," salutes me only with her proud eyebrows. If I ever hang garlands over her door, she crushes them under her haughty heels in her wrath. Come quicker, wrinkles and pitiless old age; make haste. Do you at least unbend Rhodope.

§ 5.93  RUFINUS
I have armed my breast with wisdom against Love; nor will he conquer, if it be a single combat. I, a mortal, will stand up against an immortal. But if he has Bacchus to help him, what can I alone against two?

§ 5.94  RUFINUS
Thou hast Hera's eyes, Melite, and Athene's hands, the breasts of Aphrodite, and the feet of Thetis. Blessed is he who looks on thee, thrice blessed he who hears thee talk, a demigod he who kisses thee, and a god he who takes thee to wife.

§ 5.95  Anonymous
Four are the Graces, there are two Aphrodites and ten Muses. Dercylis is one of all, a Grace, an Aphrodite, and a Muse.

§ 5.96  MELEAGER
Timarion, thy kiss is bird-lime, thy eyes are fire. If thou lookest at me, thou burnest, if thou touchest me, thou hast caught me fast.

§ 5.97  RUFINUS
Love, if thou aimest thy bow at both of us impartially thou art a god, but if thou favourest one, no god art thou.

§ 5.98  ARCHIAS or Anonymous
Prepare thy bow, Cypris, and find at thy leisure another target; for I have no room at all left for a wound.

§ 5.99  Anonymous
I would like, Lyre-singer, standing beside you, to pluck the top string and loosen the middle one.

§ 5.100  Anonymous
If anyone blame me because, a skilled servant of Love, I go to the chase, my eyes armed with birdlime to catch ladies, let him know that Zeus and Hades and the Lord of the Sea were slaves of violent desire. If the gods are such and they bid men follow their example, what wrong do I do in learning their deeds?

§ 5.101  Anonymous
He. Good day, my dear. She. Good day. He. Who is she who is walking in front of you? She. What is that to you? He. I have a reason for asking. She. My mistress. He. May I hope? She. What do you want? He. A night. She. What have you for her? He. Gold. She. Then take heart. He. So much {shewing the amount). She. You can't.

§ 5.102  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
"You will see Dioclea, a rather slim little Venus, but blessed with a sweet disposition." "Then there won't be much between us, but falling on her thin bosom I will lie all the nearer to her heart."

§ 5.103  RUFINUS
For how long, Prodice, shall I weep at thy door? Till when shall thy hard heart be deaf to my prayers? Already the grey hairs begin to invade thee, and soon thou shalt give thyself to me as Hecuba to Priam.

§ 5.104  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Take off these nets, Lysidice, you tease, and don't roll your hips on purpose, as you walk. The folds of your thin dress cling well to you, and all your charms are visible as if naked, and yet are invisible. If this seems amusing to you, I will cover myself and my erection in linen.

§ 5.105  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
The cosmos of Menophila is called one thing by wanton women, another thing when she tastes of mixed company. Hurry near her, Chaldaeans, for her sky has both Dog and Twins in it.

§ 5.106  DIOTIMUS OF MILETUS
Granny, dear nurse, why do you bark at me when I approach; and cast me into torments twice as cruel. You accompany a lovely girl, and look how treading in her steps I go my own way, only gazing at her sweet form. Why be jealous of eyes, ill-fated nurse? We are allowed to look on the forms of even the immortals.

§ 5.107  PHILODEMUS
"I know, charming lady, how to love him who loves me, and again I know right well how to bite him who bites me. Do not vex too much one who loves thee, or try to provoke the heavy wrath of the Muses." So I ever cried to thee and warned, but thou didst hearken to my words no more than the Ionian Sea. So now thou sobbest sorely and complainest, while I sit in Naias' lap.

§ 5.108  CRINAGORAS
{Epitaph on a lady called Prote) Unhappy! what first shall I say, what last? Unhappy! that is the essence of all woe. Thou art gone, O lovely lady, excelling in the beauty of thy body, in the sweetness of thy soul. Rightly they named thee Prote (First): for all was second to the peerless charm that was thine.

§ 5.109  ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA
You can have the Attic Europa for a drachma with none to fear and no opposition on her part, and she has perfectly clean sheets and a fire in winter. It was quite superfluous for you, dear Zeus, to turn into a bull.

§ 5.110  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Pour in ten ladles of Lysidice, cup-bearer, and of charming Euphrante give me one ladle. You will say I love Lysidice best. No! I swear by sweet Bacchus, whom I drain from this cup. But Euphrante is as one to ten. Doth not the light of the moon that is single overcome that of countless stars?

§ 5.111  ANTIPHILUS
I said even formerly, when Tereina's charms were yet infantile, "She will consume us all when she grows up." They laughed at my prophecy: but lo! the time I once foretold is come, and for long I suffer myself from the wound. What am I to do? To look on her is pure fire, and to look away is trouble of heart, and if I pay my suit to her, it is "I am a maid." All is over with me.

§ 5.112  PHILODEMUS
I loved. Who hath not? I made revels in her honour. Who is uninitiated in those mysteries? But I was distraught. By whom? Was it not by a god? — Good-bye to it; for already the grey locks hurry on to replace the black, and tell me I have reached the age of discretion. While it was playtime I played; now it is over I will turn to more worthy thoughts.

§ 5.113  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
You fell in love, Sosicrates, when rich; now you are poor, you are in love no longer. What an admirable cure is hunger! And Menophila, who used to call you her sweety and her darling Adonis, now asks your name. "What man art thou, and whence, thy city where? " You have perforce learnt the meaning of the saying, "None is the friend of him who has nothing."

§ 5.114  MAECIUS
That persistently cruel Philistion, who never tolerated an admirer unless he had money, seems less insufferable now than formerly. It is not a great miracle her seeming so, but I don't believe her nature is changed. The unfeeling asp grows tamer at times, but when it bites, it always means death.

§ 5.115  PHILODEMUS
I fell in love with Demo of Paphos — nothing surprising in that: and again with Demo of Samos — well that was not so remarkable: and thirdly with Demo of Naxos — then the matter ceased to be a joke: and in the fourth place with Demo of Argos. The Fates themselves seem to have christened me Philodeme; as I always feel ardent desire for some Demo.

§ 5.116  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
The love of women is best for those men who are serious in their attachments. But if you are also fond of male desire, I know the cure by which you conquer this morbid ailment. Turn over Menophile with the beautiful hips and pretend you have the male Menophilus in your embrace.

§ 5.117  MAECIUS
Cornelius' beauty melts me; but I fear this flame, which is already becoming a fierce fire.

§ 5.118  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Isias, though thy perfumed breath be ten times sweeter than spikenard, awake, and take this garland in thy dear hands. Now it is blooming, but as dawn approaches thou wilt see it fading, a symbol of thine own fresh youth.

§ 5.119  CRINAGORAS
Crinagoras, though thou tossest now to the left, now to the right on thy empty bed, unless lovely Gemella lie by thee, thy rest will bring thee no sleep, but only weariness.

§ 5.120  PHILODEMUS By midnight, eluding my husband, and drenched by the heavy rain, I came. And do we then sit idle, not talking and sleeping, as lovers ought to sleep?

§ 5.121  By the same
Philaenion is short and rather too dark, but her hair is more curled than parsley, and her skin is more tender than down: there is more magic in her voice than in the cestus of Venus, and she never refuses me anything and often refrains from begging for a present. Such a Philaenion grant me, golden Cypris, to love, until I find another more perfect.

§ 5.122  DIODORUS
Son of illustrious Megistocles, I beseech thee, not even though he seem to thee more precious than thy two eyes, though he be glowing from the bath of the Graces, hum not around the lovely boy. Neither gentle nor simple-hearted is he, but courted by many, and no novice in love. Beware, my friend, and fan not the flame.

§ 5.123  PHILODEMOS
Shine, Moon of the night, horned Moon, who lovest to look on revels, shine through the lattice and let thy light fall on golden Callistion. It is no offence for an immortal to pry into the secrets of lovers. Thou dost bless her and me, I know, O Moon; for did not Endymion set thy soul afire?

§ 5.124  PHILODEMOS
Thy summer's flower hath not yet burst from the bud, the grape that puts forth its first virgin charm is yet green, but already the young Loves sharpen their swift arrows, Lysidice, and a hidden fire is smouldering. Let us fly, we unlucky lovers, before the arrow is on the string. I foretell right soon a vast conflagration.

§ 5.125  BASSUS
I am never going to turn into gold, and let some one else become a bull or the melodious swan of the shore. Such tricks I leave to Zeus, and instead of becoming a bird I will give Corinna my two obols.

§ 5.126  PHILODEMUS
So-and-so gives so-and-so five talents for once, and possesses her in fear and trembling, and, by Heaven, she is not even pretty. I give Lysianassa five drachmas for twelve times, and she is better looking, and there is no secret about it. Either I have lost my wits, or they ought to take off his twin parts with an axe.

§ 5.127  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
I was very fond of a young girl called Alcippe, and once, having succeeded in persuading her, I brought her secretly to my room. Both our hearts were beating, lest any superfluous person should surprise us and witness our secret love. But her mother overheard her talk, and looking in suddenly, said, "We go shares, my daughter."

§ 5.128  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Breast to breast supporting my bosom on hers, and pressing her sweet lips to mine I clasped Antigone close with naught between us. Touching the rest, of which the lamp was entered as witness, I am silent.

§ 5.129  AUTOMEDON
The dancing-girl from Asia who executes those lascivious postures, quivering from her tender fingertips, I praise not because she can express all variations of passion, or because she moves her soft arms so softly this way and that, but because she knows how to dance around a worn stake and does not flee the wrinkles of old age. She tongues, tickles, embraces; if she throws a leg on top she brings your club back up from Hades.

§ 5.130  MAECIUS
Why so gloomy, and what do these untidy ruffled locks mean, Philaenis, and those eyes suffused with tears? Did you see your lover with a rival on his lap? Tell me; I know a cure for sorrow. You cry, but don't confess; in vain you seek to deny; eyes are more to be trusted than the tongue.

§ 5.131  PHILODEMUS
Xanthippe's touch on the lyre, and her talk, and her speaking eyes, and her singing, and the fire that is just alight, will burn thee, my heart, but from what beginning or when or how I know not. Thou, unhappy heart, shalt know when thou art smouldering.

§ 5.132  PHILODEMUS
O feet, O legs, O thighs for which I justly died, O buttocks, O pubis, O flanks, O shoulders, O breasts, O slender neck, O arms, O eyes I am mad for, O accomplished movement, O admirable kisses, O exclamations that excite! If she is Italian and her name is Flora and she does not sing Sappho, yet Perseus was in love with Indian Andromeda.

§ 5.133  MAECIUS
By thy majesty, Cytherea, I swore to keep away two nights from Hedylion, and knowing the complaint of my poor heart, methinks thou didst smile. For I will not support the second, and I cast my oath to the winds. I choose rather to be impious to thee for her sake than by keeping my oath to thee to die of piety.

§ 5.134  POSEIDIPPUS
Shower on us, O Attic jug, the dewy rain of Bacchus; shower it and refresh our merry picnic. Let Zeno, the learned swan, be kept silent, and Cleanthes' Muse, and let our converse be of Love the bitter-sweet.

§ 5.135  Anonymous To his Jug
Round, well-moulded, one-eared, long-necked, babbling with thy little mouth, merry waitress of Bacchus and the Muses and Cytherea, sweetly-laughing treasuress of our club, why when I am sober are you full and when I get tipsy do you become sober? You don't keep the laws of conviviality.

§ 5.136  MELEAGER
To the Cup-bearer Fill up the cup and say again, again, again, "Heliodora's." Speak the sweet name, temper the wine with but that alone. And give me, though it be yesternight's, the garland dripping with scent to wear in memory of her. Look how the rose that favours Love is weeping, because it sees her elsewhere and not in my bosom.

§ 5.137  MELEAGER
To the Cup-bearer One ladle for Heliodora Peitho and one for Heliodora Cypris and one for Heliodora, the Grace sweet of speech. For I describe her as one goddess, whose beloved name I mix in the wine to drink.

§ 5.138  DIOSCORIDES
Athenion sang "The Horse" an evil horse for me. All Troy was in flames and I burning with it. I had braved the ten years' effort of the Greeks, but in that one blaze the Trojans and I perished.

§ 5.139  MELEAGER
Sweet is the melody, by Pan of Arcadia, that thou strikest from thy lyre, Zenophila; yea, by Pan, passing sweet is thy touch. Whither shall I fly from thee? The Loves encompass me about, and give me not even a little time to take breath; for either Beauty throws desire at me, or the Muse, or the Grace or — what shall I say? All of these! I burn with fire.

§ 5.140  MELEAGER
The melodious Muses, giving skill to thy touch, and Peitho endowing thy speech with wisdom, and Eros guiding thy beauty aright, invested thee, Zenophila, with the sovereignty of the Loves, since the Graces three gave thee three Graces.

§ 5.141  MELEAGER
By Love I swear, I had rather hear Heliodora's whisper in my ear than the harp of the son of Leto.

§ 5.142  Anonymous
Which is it? is the garland the rose of Dionysius, or is he the garland's rose? I think the garland is less lovely.

§ 5.143  MELEAGER
The flowers are fading that crown Heliodora's brow, but she glows brighter and crowns the wreath.

§ 5.144  MELEAGER
Already the white violet is in flower and narcissus that loves the rain, and the lilies that haunt the hillside, and already she is in bloom, Zenophila, love's darling, the sweet rose of Persuasion, flower of the flowers of spring. Why laugh ye joyously, ye meadows, vainglorious for your bright tresses? More to be preferred than all sweet-smelling posies is she.

§ 5.145  ASCLEPIADES
Abide here, my garlands, where I hang ye by this door, nor shake off your leaves in haste, for I have watered you with my tears — rainy are the eyes of lovers. But when the door opens and ye see him, shed my rain on his head, that at least his fair hair may drink my tears.

§ 5.146  CALLIMACHUS
The Graces are four, for beside those three standeth a new-erected one, still dripping with scent, blessed Berenice, envied by all, and without whom not even the Graces are Graces.

§ 5.147  MELEAGER
I will plait in white violets and tender narcissus mid myrtle berries, I will plait laughing lilies too and sweet crocus and purple hyacinths and the roses that take joy in love, so that the wreath set on Heliodora's brow, Heliodora with the scented curls, may scatter flowers on her lovely hair.

§ 5.148  MELEAGER
I foretell that one day in story sweet-spoken Heliodora will surpass by her Graces the Graces themselves.

§ 5.149  MELEAGER
Who pointed Zenophila out to me, my talkative mistress? Who brought to me one of the three Graces? He really did a graceful deed, giving me a present and throwing in the Grace herself gratis.

§ 5.150  ASCLEPIADES
The celebrated Nico promised to come to me for to-night and swore by solemn Demeter. She comes not and the first watch of night is past. Did she mean then to forswear herself? Servants, put out the light.

§ 5.151  MELEAGER
Ye shrill-voiced mosquitoes, ye shameless pick, suckers of men's blood, Night's winged beasts of prey, let Zenophila, I beseech ye, sleep a little in peace, and come and devour these my limbs. But why do I supplicate in vain? Even pitiless wild beasts rejoice in the warmth of her tender body. But I give ye early warning, cursed creatures: no more of this audacity, or ye shall feel the strength of jealous hands.

§ 5.152  MELEAGER
Fly for me, mosquito, swiftly on my message, and lighting on the rim of Zenophila's ear whisper thus into it: "He lies awake expecting thee, and thou sleepest, O thou sluggard, who forgettest those who love thee." Whrr! away! yea, sweet piper, away! But speak lowly to her, lest thou awake her companion of the night and arouse jealousy of me to pain her. But if thou bringest me the girl, I will hood thy head, mosquito, with the lion's skin and give thee a club to carry in thy hand.

§ 5.153  ASCLEPIADES
Nicarete's sweet face, bathed by the Loves, peeping often from her high casement, was blasted, dear Cypris, by the flame that lightened from the sweet blue eyes of Cleophon, standing by her door,

§ 5.154  MELEAGER
By Cypris, swimming through the blue waves, Tryphera is truly by right of her beauty try ph era (delicate).

§ 5.155  MELEAGER
Within my heart Love himself fashioned sweetspoken Heliodora, soul of my soul.

§ 5.156  MELEAGER
Love-loving Asclepias, with her clear blue eyes, like summer seas, persuadeth all to make the love-voyage.

§ 5.157  MELEAGER
Love made it grow and sharpened it, Heliodora's finger-nail; for her light scratching reaches to the heart.

§ 5.158  ASCLEPIADES
I played once with captivating Hermione, and she wore, O Paphian Queen, a zone of many colours bearing letters of gold; all round it was written, "Love me and be not sore at heart if I am another's."

§ 5.159  SIMONIDES
Boidion, the flute-player, and Pythias, both most lovable once upon a time, dedicate to thee, Cypris, these zones and pictures. Merchant and skipper, thy purse knows whence the zones and whence the pictures.

§ 5.160  MELEAGER
White-cheeked Demo, some one hath thee naked next him and is taking his delight, but my own heart groans within me. If thy lover is some Sabbath-keeper no great wonder! Love burns hot even on cold Sabbaths.

§ 5.161  HEDYLUS or ASCLEPIADES
Euphro, Thais and Boidion, Diomede's old women, the twenty-oared transports of ship-captains, have cast ashore, one apiece, naked and worse off than shipwrecked mariners, Agis, Cleophon and Antagoras. But fly from Aphrodite's corsairs and their ships; they are worse foes than the Sirens.

§ 5.162  ASCLEPIADES
Cruel Philaenion has bitten me; though the bite does not show, the pain reaches to my finger-tips. Dear Loves, I am gone, 'tis over with me, I am past hope; for half-asleep I trod upon a whore, I know it, and her touch was death.

§ 5.163  MELEAGER
O flower-nurtured bee, why dost thou desert the buds of spring and light on Heliodora's skin? Is it that thou wouldst signify that she hath both sweets and the sting of Love, ill to bear and ever bitter to the heart? Yea, meseems, this is what thou sayest. "Off with thee back to thy flowers, thou flirt! It is stale news thou bringest me."

§ 5.164  ASCLEPIADES
Night, for I call thee alone to witness, look how shamefully Nico's Pythias, ever loving to deceive, treats me. I came at her call and not uninvited. May she one day stand at my door and complain to thee that she suffered the like at my hands.

§ 5.165  MELEAGER.
Mother of all the gods, dear Night, one thing I beg, yea I pray to thee, holy Night, companion of my revels. If some one lies cosy beneath Heliodora's mantle, warmed by her body's touch that cheateth sleep, let the lamp close its eyes and let him, cradled on her bosom, lie there a second Endymion.

§ 5.166  By the same
O night, O longing for Heliodora that keepest me awake, O tormenting visions of the dawn full of tears and joy, is there any relic left of her love for me? Is the memory of my kiss still warm in the cold ashes of fancy? Has she no bed-fellow but her tears and does she clasp to her bosom and kiss the cheating dream of me? Or is there another new love, new dalliance? Mayst thou never look on this, dear lamp; but guard her well whom I committed to thy care.

§ 5.167  ASCLEPIADES
It was night, it was raining, and, love's third burden, I was in wine; the north wind blew cold and I was alone. But lovely Moschus overpowered all. "Would thou didst wander so, and didst not rest at one door." So much I exclaimed there, drenched through. "How long Zeus? Peace, dear Zeus! Thou too didst learn to love."

§ 5.168  Anonymous
Hurl fire and snow upon me, and if thou wilt, strike me with thy bolt, or sweep me to the cliffs or to the deep. For he who is worn out by battle with Desire and utterly overcome by Love, feels not even the blast of Jove's fire.

§ 5.169  ASCLEPIADES
Sweet in summer a draught of snow to him who thirsts, and sweet for sailors after winter's storms to feel the Zephyr of the spring. But sweeter still when one cloak doth cover two lovers and Cypris hath honour from both

§ 5.170  NOSSIS
"Nothing is sweeter than love; all delightful things are second to it, and even the honey I spat from my mouth." Thus saith Nossis, but if there be one whom Cypris hath not kissed, she at least knows not what flowers roses are.

§ 5.171  MELEAGER
The wine-cup feels sweet joy and tells me how it touches the prattling mouth of Zenophila the friend of love. Happy cup! Would she would set her lips to mine and drink up my soul at one draught.

§ 5.172  MELEAGER
Why dost thou, Morning Star, the foe of love, look down on my bed so early, just as I lie warm in dear Demo's arms? Would that thou couldst reverse thy swift course and be the Star of Eve again, thou whose sweet rays fall on me most bitter. Once of old, when he lay with Alcmena, thou didst turn back in sight of Zeus; thou art not unpractised in returning on thy track.

§ 5.173  MELEAGER
O Morning-star, the foe of love, slowly dost thou revolve around the world, now that another lies warm beneath Demo's mantle. But when my slender love lay in my bosom, quickly thou earnest to stand over us, as if shedding on me a light that rejoiced at my grief.

§ 5.174  MELEAGER
Thou sleepest, Zenophila, tender flower. Would I were Sleep, though wingless, to creep under thy lashes, so that not even he who lulls the eyes of Zeus, might visit thee, but I might have thee all to myself.

§ 5.175  MELEAGER
I know thy oath is void, for they betray thy wantonness, these locks still moist with scented essences. They betray thee, thy eyes all heavy for want of sleep, and the garland's track all round thy head. Thy ringlets are in unchaste disorder all freshly touzled, and all thy limbs are tottering with the wine. Away from me, public woman; they are calling thee, the lyre that loves the revel and the clatter of the castanets rattled by the fingers.

§ 5.176  MELEAGER
Dreadful is Love, dreadful! But what avails it though I say it again and yet again and with many a sigh, "Love is dreadful "? For verily the boy laughs at this, and delights in being ever reproached, and if I curse, he even grows apace. It is a wonder to me, Cypris, how thou, who didst rise from the green sea, didst bring forth fire from water.

§ 5.177  MELEAGER
The town-crier is supposed to speak Lost! Love, wild Love! Even now at dawn he went his way, taking wing from his bed. The boy is thus, — sweetly-tearful, ever chattering, quick and impudent, laughing with a sneer, with wings on his back, and a quiver slung on it. As for his father's name I can't give it you; for neither Sky nor Earth nor Sea confess to the rascal's parentage. For everywhere and by all he is hated; but look to it in case he is setting now new springes for hearts. But wait! there he is near his nest! Ah! little archer, so you thought to hide from me there in Zenophila's eyes!

§ 5.178  MELEAGER
Sell it! though it is still sleeping on its mother's breast. Sell it! why should I bring up such a little devil? For it is snub-nosed, and has little wings, and scratches lightly with its nails, and while it is crying often begins to laugh. Besides, it is impossible to suckle it; it is always chattering and has the keenest of eyes, and it is savage and even its dear mother can't tame it. It is a monster all round; so it shall be sold. If any trader who is just leaving wants to buy a baby, let him come hither. But look! it is supplicating, all in tears. Well! I will not sell thee then. Be not afraid; thou shalt stay here to keep Zenophila company.

§ 5.179  MELEAGER
By Cypris, Love, I will throw them all in the fire, thy bow and Scythian quiver charged with arrows. Yea, I will burn them, by — . Why laugh so sillily and snicker, turning up thy nose? I will soon make thee laugh to another tune. I will cut those rapid wings that show Desire the way, and chain thy feet with brazen fetters. But a sorry victory shall I gain if I chain thee next my heart, like a wolf by a sheep-fold. No! be off! thou art ill to conquer; take besides these light, winged shoes, and spreading thy swift wings go visit others.

§ 5.180  MELEAGER
What wonder if murderous Love shoots those arrows that breathe fire, and laughs bitterly with cruel eyes! Is not Ares his mother's lover, and Hephaestus her lord, the fire and the sword sharing her? And his mother's mother the Sea, does she not roar savagely flogged by the winds? And his father has neither name nor pedigree. So hath he Hephaestus' fire, and yearns for anger like the waves, and loveth Ares' shafts dipped in blood.

§ 5.181  ASCLEPIADES
Buy us some . . . (but when will he come?) and five rose wreaths. — Why do you say "pax "? You say you have no change! We are ruined; won't someone string up the Lapith beast! I have a brigand not a servant. So you are not at fault! Not at all! Bring your account. Phryne, fetch me my reckoning counters. Oh the rascal! Wine, five drachmae! Sausage, two! ormers you say, mackerel .... honeycombs! We will reckon them up correctly tomorrow; now go to Aeschra's perfumery and get five silver bottles (?) Tell her as a token that Bacchon kissed her five times right off", of which fact her bed was entered as a witness.

§ 5.182  MELEAGER
Give her this message, Dorcas; look! tell her it twice and repeat the whole a third time. Off with you! don't delay, fly! — just wait a moment, Dorcas! Dorcas, where are you off to before I've told you all? Just add to what I told you before — or rather (what a fool I am!) don't say anything at all — only that — Tell her everything, don't hesitate to say everything. But why am I sending you, Dorcas? Don't you see I am going with you — in front of you?

§ 5.183  POSIDIPPUS
We are four at the party, and each brings his mistress; since that makes eight, one jar of Chian is not enough. Go, my lad, to Aristius and tell him the first he sent was only half full; it is two gallons short certainly; I think more. But look sharp, for we all meet at five.

§ 5.184  MELEAGER
I know it; you did not take me in; why call on the gods? I have found you out; I am certain; don't go on swearing you didn't; I know all about it. That was what it was then, you perjured girl! Once more you sleep alone, do you, alone? Oh her brazen impudence! still she continues to say "Alone." Did not that fine gallant Cleon, eh? — and if not he — but why threaten? Away with you, get out double quick, you evil beast of my bed! Nay but I shall do just what will please you best; I know you long to see him; so stay where you are my prisoner.

§ 5.185  ASCLEPIADES
Go to the market, Demetrius, and get from Amyntas three small herrings and ten little lemon-soles 1; and get two dozen fresh prawns (he will count them for you) and come straight back. And from Thauborius get six rose-wreaths — and, as it is on your way, just look in and invite Tryphera.

§ 5.186  POSIDIPPUS
Don't think to deceive me, Philaenis, with your plausible tears. I know; you love absolutely no one more than me, as long as you are lying beside me; but if you were with someone else, you would say you loved him more than me.

§ 5.187  MELEAGER
Tell to Lycaenis, Dorcas, "See how thy kisses are proved to be false coin. Time will ever reveal a counterfeit love."

§ 5.188  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM It is not I who wrong Love. I am gentle, I call Cypris to witness; but he shot me from a treacherous bow, and I am all being consumed to ashes. One burning arrow after another he speeds at me and not for a moment does his fire slacken. Now I, a mortal, shall avenge myself on the transgressor though the god be winged. Can I be blamed for self-defence?

§ 5.189  ASCLEPIADES
The night is long, and it is winter weather, and night sets when the Pleiads are half-way up the sky. I pass and repass her door, drenched by the rain, smitten by desire of her, the deceiver. It is not love that Cypris smote me with, but a tormenting arrow red-hot from the fire.

§ 5.190  MELEAGER
O briny wave of Love, and sleepless gales of Jealousy, and wintry sea of song and wine, whither am I borne? This way and that shifts the abandoned rudder of my judgement. Shall we ever set eyes again on tender Scylla?

§ 5.191  MELEAGER
O stars, and moon, that lightest well Love's friends on their way, and Night, and thou, my little mandoline, companion of my serenades, shall I see her, the wanton one, yet lying awake and crying much to her lamp; or has she some companion of the night? Then will I hang at her door my suppliant garlands, all wilted with my tears, and inscribe thereon but these words, "Cypris, to thee doth Meleager, he to whom thou hast revealed the secrets of thy revels, suspend these spoils of his love."

§ 5.192  MELEAGER
Stranger, were you to see Callistion naked, you would say that the double letter of the Syracusans L has been changed into T.

§ 5.193  DIOSCORIDES
Tender Cleo took me captive, Adonis, as she beat her breasts white as milk at thy night funeral feast. Will she but do me the same honour, if I die. I hesitate not; take me with thee on thy voyage.

§ 5.194  POSEIDIPPUS or ASCLEPIADES
The Loves themselves escorted soft Irene as she issued from the golden chamber of Cypris, a holy flower of beauty from head to foot, as though carved of white marble, laden with virgin Graces. Full many an arrow to a young man's heart did they let fly from their purple bow-strings.

§ 5.195  MELEAGER
The Graces three wove a triple crown for Zenophila, a badge of her triple beauty. One laid desire on her skin and one gave love-longing to her shape, and one to her speech sweetness of words. Thrice blessed she, whose bed Cypris made, whose words were wrought by Peitho (Persuasion) and her sweet beauty by Love.

§ 5.196  MELEAGER
Zenophila's beauty is Love's gift, Cypris charmed her bed, and the Graces gave her grace.

§ 5.197  MELEAGER
Yea! by Timo's fair-curling love-loving ringlets, by Demo's fragrant skin that cheateth sleep, by the dear dalliance of Ilias, and my wakeful lamp, that looked often on the mysteries of my love-revels, I swear to thee, Love, I have but a little breath left on my lips, and if thou wouldst have this too, speak but the word and I will spit it forth.

§ 5.198  MELEAGER
No, by Timo's locks, by Heliodora's sandal, by Demo's door that drips with scent, by great-eyed Anticlea's gentle smile, by the fresh garlands on Dorothea's brow, I swear it, Love, thy quiver hath no winged arrows left hidden; for all thy shafts are fixed in me.

§ 5.199  HEDYLUS
Wine and treacherous toasts and the sweet love of Nicagoras sent Aglaonice to sleep; and here hath she dedicated to Cypris these spoils of her maiden love still all dripping with scent, her sandals and the soft band that held her bosom, witnesses to her sleep and his violence then.

§ 5.200  Anonymous
The saffron robe of Alexo, and her dark green ivy crown, still smelling of myrrh, with her snood she dedicates to sweet Priapus with the effeminate melting eyes, in memory of his holy night-festival.

§ 5.201  Anonymous
Leontis lay awake till the lovely star of morn, taking her delight with golden Sthenius, and ever since that vigil it hangs here in the shrine of Cypris, the lyre the Muses helped her then to play.

§ 5.202  ASCLEPIADES or POSEIDIPPUS
Plango dedicated on the portals of the equestrian god her purple whip and her polished reins, after winning as a jockey her race with Philaenis, her practised rival, when the horses of the evening had just begun to neigh. Dear Cypris, give her unquestioned glory for her victory, stablishing for her this favour not to be forgotten.

§ 5.203  ASCLEPIADES
Lysidice dedicated to thee, Cypris, her spur, the golden goad of her shapely leg, with which she trained many a horse on its back, while her own thighs were never reddened, so lightly did she ride; for she ever finished the race without a touch of the spur, and therefore hung on the great gate of thy temple this her weapon of gold.

§ 5.204  MELEAGER
No longer, Timo, do the timbers of your spruce corsair hold out against the strokes of Cypris' oarsmen, but your back is bent like a yard-arm lowered, and your grey forestays are slack, and your relaxed breasts are like flapping sails, and the belly of your ship is wrinkled by the tossing of the waves, and below she is all full of bilgewater and flooded with the sea, and her joints are shaky. Unhappy he who has to sail still alive across the lake of Acheron on this old coffin-galley.

§ 5.205  Anonymous
Nico's love-charm, that can compel a man to come from oversea and boys from their rooms, carved of transparent amethyst, set in gold and hung upon a soft thread of purple wool, she, the witch of Larissa presents to thee Cypris, to possess and treasure.

§ 5.206  LEONIDAS
Melo and Satyra, the daughters of Antigenides, now advanced in age, the willing work-women of the Muses, dedicate to the Pimpleian Muses, the one her swift-lipped flute and this its box-wood case, and Satyra, the friend of love, her pipe that she joined with wax, the evening companion of banqueters, the sweet whistler, with which all night long she waited to see the day dawn, fretting not because the portals would not open.

§ 5.207  ASCLEPIADES
Bitto and Nannion of Samus will not go to the house of Cypris by the road the goddess ordains, but desert to other things which are not seemly. O Lady Cypris, look with hate on the truants from thy bed.

§ 5.208  MELEAGER
I do not have a boy-mad heart. What pleasure is there, Loves, in mounting a man, if he wants to take something without giving anything? For one hand washes the other. Let a lovely wife remain for me; begone, all you men with your masculine pincers.

§ 5.209  POSEIDIPPUS or ASCLEPIADES
By thy strand, O Paphian Cytherea, Cleander saw Nico swimming in the blue sea, and burning with love he took to his heart dry coals from the wet maiden. He, standing on the land, was shipwrecked, but she in the sea was received gently by the beach. Now they are both equally in love, for the prayers were not in vain that he breathed on that strand.

§ 5.210  ASCLEPIADES
Didyme by the branch she waved at me has carried me clean away, alas! and looking on her beauty, I melt like wax before the fire. And if she is dusky, what is that to me? So are the coals, but when we light them, they shine as bright as roses.

§ 5.211  POSEIDIPPUS
Tears and revel, why do you incite me before my feet are out of the name to rush into another of Cypris' fires? Never do I cease from love, and tireless desire ever brings me some new pain from Aphrodite.

§ 5.212  MELEAGER
The noise of Love is ever in my ears, and my eyes in silence bring their tribute of sweet tears to Desire. Nor night nor daylight lays love to rest, and already the spell has set its well-known stamp on my heart. O winged Loves, is it that ye are able to fly to us, but have no strength at all to fly away?

§ 5.213  POSEIDIPPUS
If anyone is with Pythias, I am off, but if she sleeps alone, for God's sake admit me for a little, and say for a token that drunk, and through thieves, I came with daring Love for my guide.

§ 5.214  MELEAGER
This Love that dwells with me is fond of playing at ball, and to thee, Heliodora, he throws the heart that quivers in me. But come, consent to play with him, for if thou throwest me away from thee he will not brook this wanton transgression of the courtesies of sport.

§ 5.215  MELEAGER
I pray thee, Love, reverence the Muse who intercedes for me and lull to rest this my sleepless passion for Heliodora. I swear it by thy bow that hath learnt to shoot none else, but ever pours the winged shafts upon me, even if thou slayest me I will leave letters speaking thus: "Look, O stranger, on the murderous work of Love."

§ 5.216  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
If you love, do not wholly let your spirit bend the knee and cringe full of oily supplication, but be a little proof against approaches, so far at least as to draw up your eyebrows and look on her with a scanting air. For it is more or less the business of women to slight the proud, and to make fun of those who are too exceedingly pitiful. He is the best lover who mixes the two, tempering piteousness with just a little manly pride.

§ 5.217  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Zeus, turned to gold, piercing the brazen chamber of Danae, cut the knot of intact virginity. I think the meaning of the story is this, "Gold, the subduer of all things, gets the better of brazen walls and fetters; gold loosens all reins and opens every lock, gold makes the ladies with scornful eyes bend the knee. It was gold that bent the will of Danae. No need for a lover to pray to Aphrodite, if he brings money to offer."

§ 5.218  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
The arrogant Polemo, who in Menander's drama cut off his wife's sweet locks, has found an imitator in a younger Polemo, who with audacious hands despoiled Rhodanthe of her locks, and even turning the comic punishment into a tragic one flogged the limbs of the slender girl. It was an act of jealous madness, for what great wrong did she do if she chose to take pity on my affliction? The villain! and he has separated us, his burning jealousy going so far as to prevent us even looking at each other. Well, at any rate, he is "The Hated Man" and I am "The Ill-Tempered Man," as I don't see "The Clipped Lady." l

§ 5.219  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Let us steal our kisses, Rhodope, and the lovely and precious work of Cypris. It is sweet not to be found out, and to avoid the all-entrapping eyes of guardians: furtive amours are more honied than open ones.

§ 5.220  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
If grey hairs now have lulled your desires, Cleobulus, and that glowing goad of love-madness is blunted, you should, when you reflect on the passions of your youth, take pity now on the pains of younger people, and not be so very wroth at weaknesses common to all mankind, robbing the slender girl of all the glory of her hair. The poor child formerly looked upon you as a father, (anti patros), and now all at once you have become a foe (antipalos).

§ 5.221  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
How long shall we continue to exchange stolen glances, endeavouring to veil their fire. We must speak out and reveal our suffering, and if anyone hinders that tender union which will end our pain, the sword shall be the cure for both of us; for sweeter for us, if we cannot live ever together, to go together to death.

§ 5.222  AGATHIAS
To a harp-player and tragic actress called Ariadne Whenever she strikes her harp with the plectrum, it seems to be the echo of Terpsichore's strings, and if she tunes her voice to the high tragic strain, it is the hum of Melpomene that she reproduces. Were there a new contest for beauty too, Cypris herself were more likely to lose the prize than she, and Paris would revise his judgement. But hush! let us keep it to our own selves, lest Bacchus overhear and long for the embraces of this Ariadne too.

§ 5.223  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
O star of the morning, press not hard on Love, nor because thou movest near to Mars learn from him to be pitiless. But as once when thou sawest the Sun in Clymene's chamber, thou wentest more slowly down to the west, so on this night that I longed for, scarce hoping, tarry in thy coming, as in the Cimmerian land.

§ 5.224  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Cease Love to aim at my heart and liver, and if thou must shoot, let it be at some other part of me.

§ 5.225  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
My love is a running sore that ever discharges tears for the wound stancheth not; I am in evil case and find no cure, nor have I any Machaon to apply the gentle salve that I need. I am Telephus, my child; be thou faithful Achilles and staunch with thy beauty the desire wherewith thy beauty smote me.

§ 5.226  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
How long, O eyes, quaffing boldly beauty's untempered wine, will ye drain the nectar of the Loves! Let us flee far away, far as we have the strength, and in the calm to a milder Cypris I will pour a sober offering. But if haply even there the fury possesses me, I will bid ye be wet with icy tears, and suffer for ever the pain ye deserve; for it was you alas! who cast me into such a fiery furnace.

§ 5.227  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Every year is the vintage, and none in gathering the grapes looks with reluctance on the curling tendrils. But thee, the rosy-armed, the crown of my devotion, I hold enchained in the gentle knot of my arms, and gather the vintage of love. No other summer, no spring do I hope to see, for thou art entirely full of delight. So may thy prime endure for ever, and if some crooked tendril of a wrinkle comes, I will suffer it, for that I love thee.

§ 5.228  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Tell me for whose sake shalt thou still tire thy hair, and make thy hands bright, paring thy finger nails? Why shalt thou adorn thy raiment with the purple bloom of the sea, now that no longer thou art near lovely Rhodope? With eyes that look not on Rhodope I do not even care to watch bright Aurora dawn in gold.

§ 5.229  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
A herdsman, looking on Niobe weeping, wondered how a rock could shed tears. But Euippe's heart, the living stone, takes no pity on me lamenting through the misty darkness of so long a night. In both cases the fault is Love's, who brought pain to Niobe for her children and to me the pain of passion.

§ 5.230  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Doris pulled one thread from her golden hair and bound my hands with it, as if I were her prisoner. At first I laughed, thinking it easy to shake off charming Doris' fetters. But finding I had not strength to break them, I presently began to moan, as one held tight by galling irons. And now most ill-fated of men, I am hung on a hair and must ever follow where my mistress chooses to drag me.

§ 5.231  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Thy mouth blossoms with grace and thy cheeks bloom with flowers, thy eyes are bright with Love, and thy hands aglow with music. Thou takest captive eyes with eyes and ears with song; with thy every part thou trappest unhappy young men.

§ 5.232  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Kissing Hippomenes, my heart was fixed on Leander; clinging to Leander's lips, I bear the image of Xanthus in my mind; and embracing Xanthus my heart goes back to Hippomenes. Thus ever I refuse him I have in my grasp, and receiving one after another in my ever shifting arms, I court wealth of Love. Let whoso blames me remain in single poverty.

§ 5.233  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
"Tomorrow I will see thee." Yet tomorrow never comes, but ever, as thy way is, deferment is heaped upon deferment. That is all thou grantest to me who love thee; for others thou hast many gifts, for me but perfidy. "I will see thee in the evening." But what is the evening of women? Old age full of countless wrinkles.

§ 5.234  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
I who formerly in my youth with stubborn heart refused to yield to the sweet empire of Cypris, wielder of the goad, I who was proof against the consuming arrows of the Loves, now grown half grey, bend the neck to thee, O Paphian queen. Receive me and laugh elate that thou conquerest wise Pallas now even more than when ye contended for the apple of the Hesperides.

§ 5.235  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Against my hope thou art come to me, who longed for thee, and by the shock of wonder didst empty my soul of all its vain imagining. I tremble, and my heart in its depths quivers with passion; my soul is drowned by the wave of Love. But save me, the shipwrecked mariner, now near come to land, receiving me into thy harbour.

§ 5.236  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Yea, maybe it is lighter than mine, the pain that Tantalus suffers in hell. Never did he see thy beauty and never was denied the touch of thy lips, more tender than an opening rose — Tantalus ever in tears. He dreads the rock over his head but he cannot die a second time. But I, not yet dead, am wasted away by passion, and am enfeebled even unto death.

§ 5.237  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS of MYRINA
All the night long I complain, and when dawn comes to give me a little rest, the swallows twitter around and move me again to tears chasing sweet slumber away. I keep my eyes sightless, but again the thought of Rhodanthe haunts my heart. Hush ye spiteful babblers! It was not I who shore the tongue of Philomela. Go weep for Itylus on the hills, and lament sitting by the hoopoe's nest amid the crags; that I may sleep for a little season, and perchance some dream may come and cast Rhodanthe's arms about me.

§ 5.238  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Why do I draw my sword from the scabbard? It is not, dear, I swear it by thyself, to do aught foreign to Love's service, but to show thee that Ares though he be of stubborn steel yields to soft Cypris. This is the companion of my love, and I need no mirror, but look at myself in it, though, being in love, I am blind. But if thou forgettest me, the sword shall pierce my flank.

§ 5.239  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
The raging flame is extinct; I suffer no longer, O Cypris; but I am dying of cold. For after having devoured my flesh, this bitter love, panting hard in his greed, creeps through my bones and vitals. So the altar fire, when it hath lapped up all the sacrifice, cools down of its own accord for lack of fuel to feed it.

§ 5.240  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
I pursue Love with gold; for bees do not work with spade or plough, but with the fresh flowers of spring. Gold, however, is the resourceful toiler that wins Aphrodite's honey.

§ 5.241  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
"Farewell" is on my tongue, but I hold in the word with a wrench and still abide near thee. For I shudder at this horrid parting as at the bitter night of hell. Indeed thy light is like the daylight; but that is mute, while thou bringest me that talk, sweeter than the Sirens, on which all my soul's hopes hang.

§ 5.242  ERATOSTHENES SCHOLASTICUS
When I saw Melite, I grew pale, for her husband was with her, but I said to her trembling, "May I push back the bolts of your door, loosening the boltpin, and fixing in the middle the tip of my key pierce the damp base of the folding door? " But she, laughing and glancing at her husband, said, "You had better keep away from my door, or the dog may worry you."

§ 5.243  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
I held the laughter-loving girl clasped in my arms in a dream. She yielded herself entirely to me and offered no protest to any of my caprices. But some jealous Love lay in ambush for me even at night, and frightening sleep away spilt my cup of bliss. So even in the dreams of my sleep Love envies me the sweet attainment of my desire.

§ 5.244  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Galatea's kisses are long and smack, Demo's are soft, and Doris bites one. Which excites most? Let not ears be judges of kisses; but I will taste the three and vote. My heart, thou wert wrong; thou knewest already Demo's soft kiss and the sweet honey of her fresh mouth. Cleave to that; she wins without a bribe; if any take pleasure in another, he will not tear me away from Demo.

§ 5.245  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
You titter and neigh like a mare that courts the male; you make quiet signs to me; you do everything to excite me, but in vain. I swore, I swore with three stones in my hand that I would never look with kindly eyes on the hard-hearted girl. Practise kissing by yourself and smack your lips, that pout in naked shamelessness, but are linked to no man's. But I go another way, for there are other better partners in the sports of Cypris.

§ 5.246  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Soft are Sappho's kisses, soft the clasp of her snowy limbs, every part of her is soft. But her heart is of unyielding adamant. Her love reaches but to her lips, the rest is forbidden fruit. Who can support this? Perhaps, perhaps he who has borne it will find it easy to support the thirst of Tantalus.

§ 5.247  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Constance (Parmenis) in name but not in deed! When I heard your pretty name I thought you might be, but to me you are more cruel than death. You fly from him who loves you and you pursue him who loves you not, that when he loves you, you may fly from him too in turn. Your mouth is a hook with madness in its tip: I bit, and straight it holds me hanging from its rosy lips.

§ 5.248  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
O all-daring hand, how could you seize her tightly by her all-golden hair and drag her about? How could you? Did not her piteous cries soften you, her torn hair, her meekly bent neck? Now in vain you beat my forehead again and again. Nevermore shall your palm be allowed to touch her breasts. Nay, I pray thee, my lady, punish me not so cruelly: rather than that I would gladly die by the sword.

§ 5.249  IRENAEUS REFERENDARIUS
O haughty Rhodope, now yielding to the arrows of Cypris, and forswearing thy insufferable pride, you hold me in your arms by your bed, and I lie, it seems, in chains with no desire for liberty. Thus do souls and languid bodies meet, mingled by the streams of love.

§ 5.250  PAULUS SJLENTIARIUS
Sweet, my friends, is Lais' smile, and sweet again the tears she sheds from her gently waving eyes. Yesterday, after long resting her head on my shoulder, she sighed without a cause. She wept as I kissed her, and the tears flowing as from a cool fountain fell on our united lips. When I questioned her, "Why are you crying? " She said, "I am afraid of your leaving me, for all you men are forsworn."

§ 5.251  IRENAEUS REFERENDARIUS
You roll your eyes to express hidden fires and you grimace, twisting and protruding your reddened lips; you giggle constantly and shake the glory of your curls, and your haughty hands, I see, are stretched out in despair. But your disdainful heart is not bent, and even in your decline you are not softened.

§ 5.252  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Let us throw off these cloaks, my pretty one, and lie naked, knotted in each other's embrace. Let nothing be between us; even that thin tissue you wear seems thick to me as the wall of Babylon. Let our breasts and our lips be linked; the rest must be veiled in silence. I hate a babbling tongue.

§ 5.253  IRENAEUS REFERENDARIUS
Why, Chrysilla, do you bend your head and gaze at the floor, and why do your fingers trifle with your girdle's knot? Shame mates not with Cypris, and if you must be silent, by some sign at least tell me that you submit to the Paphian goddess.

§ 5.254  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Ye gods! I swore to stay away from thee, bright maiden, till the twelfth day dawned, but I, the longenduring, could not endure it. Yea, by thyself I swear, the morrow seemed more than a twelvemonth. But pray to the gods, dear, not to engrave this oath of mine on the surface of the page that records my sins, and comfort my heart, too, with thy charm. Let not thy burning scourge, gracious lady, as well as the immortals' flay me.

§ 5.255  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
I saw the lovers. In the ungovernable fury of their passion they glued their lips together in a long kiss; but that did not sate the infinite thirst of love. Longing, if it could be, to enter into each other's hearts, they sought to appease to a little extent the torment of the impossible by interchanging their soft raiment. Then he was just like Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, and she, her tunic girt up to her silver knee, counterfeited the form of Artemis. Again their lips met close, for the inappeasable hunger of passion yet devoured them. 'Twere easier to tear apart two vine stems that have grown round each other for years than to separate them as they kiss and with their opposed arms knot their pliant limbs in a close embrace. Thrice blessed he, my love, who is entwined by such fetters, thrice blessed! but we must burn far from each other.

§ 5.256  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Galatea last evening slammed her door in my face, and added this insulting phrase; " Scorn breaks up love." A foolish phrase that idly goes from mouth to mouth! Scorn but inflames my passion all the more. I swore to remain a year away from her, but ye gods! in the. morning I went straightway to supplicate at her door.

§ 5.257  PALLADAS
Now I condemn Zeus as a tepid lover, since he did not transform himself for this haughty fair's sake. She is not second in beauty to Europa or Danae or tender Leda. But perhaps he disdains courtesans, for I know they were maiden princesses he used to seduce.

§ 5.258  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Your wrinkles, Philinna, are preferable to the juice of all youthful prime, and I desire more to clasp in my hands your apples nodding with the weight of their clusters, than the firm breasts of a young girl. Your autumn excels another's spring, and your winter is warmer than another's summer

§ 5.259  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Thy eyes, Chariclo, that breathe love, are heavy, as if thou hadst just risen from bed, thy hair is dishevelled, thy cheeks, wont to be so bright and rosy, are pale, and thy whole body is relaxed. If all this is a sign of thy having spent the night in Love's arena, then the bliss of him who held thee clasped in his arms transcends all other, but if it is burning love that wastes thee, may thy wasting be for me.

§ 5.260  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Does a caul confine your hair, I waste away with passion, as I look on the image of turreted Cybele. Do you wear nothing on your head, its flaxen locks make me scare my mind from its throne in my bosom. Is your hair let down and covered by a white kerchief, the fire burns just as fierce in my heart. The three Graces dwell in the three aspects of your beauty, and each aspect sheds for me its particular flame.

§ 5.261  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
I care not for wine, but if thou wouldst make me drunk, taste the cup first and I will receive it when thou offerest it. For, once thou wilt touch it with thy lips, it is no longer easy to abstain or to fly from the sweet cup-bearer. The cup ferries thy kiss to me, and tells me what joy it tasted.

§ 5.262  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Alack, alack! envy forbids even thy sweet speech and the secret language of thy eyes. I am in dread of the eye of thy old nurse, who stands close to thee like the many-eyed herdsman of the Argive maiden. "Stand there and keep watch; but you gnaw your heart in vain, for your eye cannot reach to the soul."

§ 5.263  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Never, my lamp, mayest thou wear a snuff or arouse the rain, lest thou hold my bridegroom from coming. Ever dost thou grudge Cypris; for when Hero was plighted to Leander — no more, my heart, no more! Thou art Hephaestus's, and I believe that, by vexing Cypris, thou fawnest on her suffering lord.

§ 5.264  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Why find fault with my locks grown grey so early and my eyes wet with tears? These are the pranks my love for thee plays; these are the care-marks of unfulfilled desire; these are the traces the arrows left; these are the work of many sleepless nights. Yes, and my sides are already wrinkled all before their time, and the skin hangs loose upon my neck. The more fresh and young the flame is, the older grows my body devoured by care. But take pity on me, and grant me thy favour, and at once it will recover its freshness and my locks their raven tint.

§ 5.265  COMETAS CHARTULARIUS
Phyllis sent her eyes to sea to seek Demophoon, but his oath he had flung to the winds and he was false to her. Now, dear, I thy Demophoon keep my tryst to thee on the sea-shore; but how is it, Phyllis, that thou are false?

§ 5.266  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
They say a man bitten by a mad dog sees the brute's image in the water. I ask myself, "Did Love go rabid, and fix his bitter fangs in me, and lay my heart waste with madness? For thy beloved image meets my eyes in the sea and in the eddying stream and in the wine-cup."

§ 5.267  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
A. Why do you sigh? B. I am in love. A. With whom? B. A girl. A. Is she pretty? B. In my eyes. A. Where did you notice her? B. There, where I went to dinner, I saw her reclining with the rest. A. Do you hope to succeed? B. Yes, yes, my friend, but I want a secret affair and not an open one. A. You are averse then from lawful wedlock? B. I learnt for certain that she is very poorly off. A. You learnt! you lie, you are not in love; how can a heart that reckons correctly be touched with love's madness?

§ 5.268  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Let none fear any more the darts of desire; for raging Love has emptied his whole quiver on me. Let none dread the coming of his wings; for ever since he hath set his cruel feet on me, trampling on my heart, there he remains unmoved and unshaken and departs not, for on me he hath shed the feathers of his two wings

§ 5.269  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
I once sat between two ladies, of one of whom I was fond, while to the other I did it as a favour. She who loved me drew me towards her but I, like a thief, kissed the other, with lips that seemed to grudge the kisses, thus deceiving the jealous fears of the first one, whose reproach, and the reports she might make to sever us, I dreaded. Sighing I said, "It seems that I suffer double pain, in that both loving and being loved are a torture to me."

§ 5.270  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
A rose requires no wreath, and thou, my lady, no robes, nor hair-cauls set with gems. Pearls yield in beauty to thy skin, and gold has not the glory of thy uncombed hair. Indian jacynth has the charm of sparkling splendour, but far surpassed by that of thy eyes. Thy dewy lips and the honeyed harmony of thy breasts are the magic cestus of Venus itself. By all those I am utterly vanquished, and am comforted only by thy eyes which kind hope makes his home.

§ 5.271  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
She who once frolicked among the fairest of her sex, dancing with her golden castanettes and displaying her finery, is now worn by old age and pitiless disease. Her lovers, who once ran to welcome her, the eagerly desired, now shudder at her, and that waxing moon has waned away, since it never comes into conjunction.

§ 5.272  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
I press her breasts, our mouths are joined, and I feed in unrestrained fury round her silver neck, but not yet is my conquest complete; I still toil wooing a maiden who refuses me her bed. Half of herself she has given to Aphrodite and half to Pallas, and I waste away between the two.

§ 5.273  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
She who once held herself so high in her beauty, and used to shake her plaited tresses in her pride, she who used to vaunt herself proof against my doleful passion, is now old and wrinkled and her charm is gone. Her breasts are pendent and her eyebrows are fallen, the fire of her eyes is dead and her speech is trembling and senile. I call grey hairs the Nemesis of Love, because they judge justly, coming soonest to those who are proudest.

§ 5.274  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
The image of me that Love stamped in the hot depths of thy heart, thou dost now, alas! as I never dreamt, disown; but I have the picture of thy beauty engraved on my soul. That, O cruel one, I will show to the Sun, and show to the Lord of Hell, that the judgement of Minos may fall quicker on thy head.

§ 5.275  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
One afternoon pretty Menecratis lay outstretched in sleep with her arm twined round her head. Boldly I entered her bed and had to my delight accomplished half the journey of love, when she woke up, and with her white hands set to tearing out all my hair. She struggled till all was over, and then said, her eyes filled with tears: "Wretch, you have had your will, and taken that for which I often refused your gold; and now you will leave me and take another to your breast; for you all are servants of insatiable Cypris."

§ 5.276  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
This coif, bright with patterns worked in gold, I bring for thee, my bride to be. Set it on thy hair, and putting this tucker over thy shoulders, draw it round thy white bosom. Yea, pin it lower, that it may cincture thy breasts, wound close around thee. These wear as a maiden, but mayest thou soon be a matron with fair fruit of offspring, that I may get thee a silver head-band, and a hair-caul set with precious stones.

§ 5.277  ERATOSTHENES SCHOLASTICUS
Let males be for others. I can love but women, whose charms are more enduring. There is no beauty in youths at the age of puberty; I hate the unkind hair that begins to grow too soon.

§ 5.278  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICS S
May Aphrodite herself and the darling Loves melt my empty heart for hate of me, if I ever am inclined to love males. May I never make such conquests or fall into the graver sin. It is enough to sin with women. This I will indulge in, but leave young men to foolish Pittalacus.

§ 5.279  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Cleophantis delays, and for the third time the wick of the lamp begins to droop and rapidly fade. Would that the flame in my heart would sink with the lamp and did not this long while burn me with sleepless desire. Ah! how often she swore to Cytherea to come in the evening, but she scruples not to offend men and gods alike.

§ 5.280  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Art thou too in pain, Philinna, art thou too sick, and dost thou waste away, with burning eyes? Or dost thou enjoy sweetest sleep, with no thought, no count of my suffering? The same shall be one day thy lot, and I shall see thy cheeks, wretched girl, drenched with floods of tears. Cypris is in all else a malignant goddess, but one virtue is hers, that she hates a prude.

§ 5.281  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Yesterday Hermonassa, as after a carouse I was hanging a wreath on her outer door, poured a jug of water on me, and flattened my hair, which I had taken such pains to curl that it would have lasted three days. But the water set me all the more aglow, for the hidden fire of her sweet lips was in the jug.

§ 5.282  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Slender Melite, though now on the threshold of old age, has not lost the grace of youth; still her cheeks are polished, and her eye has not forgotten to charm. Yet her decades are not few. Her girlish high spirit survives too. This taught me that time cannot subdue nature.

§ 5.283  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
I had loveable Theano all night with me, but she never ceased from weeping piteously. From the hour when the evening star began to mount the heaven, she cursed it for being herald of the morrow's dawn. Nothing is just as mortals would have it; a servant of Love requires Cimmerian nights.

§ 5.284  RUFINUS DOMESTICUS
I love everything in you. I hate only your undiscerning eye which is pleased by odious men.

§ 5.285  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Divine Rhodanthe, being prevented from kissing me, held her maiden girdle stretched out between us, and kept kissing it, while I, like a gardener, diverted the stream of love to another point, sucking up the kiss, and so returned it from a distance, smacking with my lips on her girdle. Even this a little eased my pain, for the sweet girdle was like a ferry plying from lip to lip.

§ 5.286  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Think, Cleophantis, what joy it is when the storm of love descends with fury on two hearts equally, to toss them. What war, or extremity of fear, or what shame shall sunder them as they entwine their limbs? Would mine were the fetters that the Lemnian smith, Hephaestus, cunningly forged. Let me only clasp thee to me, my sweet, and feed on thy limbs to my heart's content. Then, for all I care, let a stranger see me or my own countryman, or a traveller, dear, or a clergyman, or even my wife.

§ 5.287  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Curious to find out if lovely Ereutho were fond of me, I tested her heart by a subtle falsehood. I said, "I am going abroad, but remain, my dear, faithful and ever mindful of my love." But she gave a great cry, and leapt up, and beat her face with her hands, and tore the clusters of her braided hair, begging me to remain. Then, as one not easily persuaded and with a dissatisfied expression, I just consented. I am happy in my love, for what I wished to do in any case, that I granted as a great favour.

§ 5.288  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Ever since Chariklo, playing with me at the feast, put her wreath slyly on my head, a deadly fire devours me; for the wreath, it seems, had in it something of the poison that burnt Glauce, the daughter of Creon.

§ 5.289  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
The old hag, thrice as old as the oldest crow, who has often for my sorrow got a new lease of life, has a savage heart, and will not be softened either by gold or by greater and stronger cups, but is watching all round the girl. If she ever sees her eyes wandering to me furtively, she actually dares to slap the tender darling's face and make her cry piteously. If it be true, Persephone, that thou didst love Adonis, pity the pain of our mutual passion and grant us both one favour. Deliver the girl from the old woman before she meets with some mischance.

§ 5.290  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Eluding her mother's apprehensive eyes, the charming girl gave me a pair of rosy apples. I think she had secretly ensorcelled those red apples with the torch of love, for I, alack! am wrapped in flame, and instead of two breasts, ye gods, my purposeless hands grasp two apples.

§ 5.291  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
If, my sweet, you gave me these two apples as tokens of your breasts, I bless you for your great favour; but if your gift does not go beyond the apples, you do me wrong in refusing to quench the fierce fire you lit. Telephus was healed by him who hurt him; do not, dear, be crueller than an enemy to me.

§ 5.292  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Lines written to Paulus Silenliarius by Agathias while staying on the opposite bank of the Bosporus for the purpose of studying law
Here the land, clothing itself in greenery, has revealed the full beauty of the rich foliage, and here warble under shady cypresses the birds, now mothers of tender chicks. The gold-finches sing shrilly, and the turtle-dove moans from its home in the thorny thicket. But what joy have I in all this, I who would rather hear your voice than the notes of Apollo's harp? Two loves beset me; I long to see you, my happy friend, and to see the sweet heifer, the thoughts of whom consume me; but the Law keeps me here far from that slender fawn.

§ 5.293  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Reply on the same subject to his friend Agathias
Love, the violent, knows not Law, nor does any other work tear a man away from true passion. If the labour of your law studies holds you back, then fierce love dwells not in your breast. What love is that, when a narrow strait of the sea can keep you apart from your beloved? Leander showed the power of love by swimming fearless of the billows and the night. And you, my friend, can take the ferry; but the fact is you have renounced Cypris, and pay more attention to Athene. To Pallas belongs law, to Cypris desire. Tell me! what man can serve both at once?

§ 5.294  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
The envious old woman slept next the girl, lying athwart the bed like an insurmountable projecting rampart, and like a tower an ample blanket covered the girl. The pretentious waiting woman had closed the door of the room, and lay asleep heavy with untempered wine. But I was not afraid of them. I slightly raised with noiseless hands the latch of the door, and blowing out the blazing torch by waving my cloak, I made my way sideways across the room avoiding the sleeping sentry. Then crawling softly on my belly under the girths of the bed, I gradually raised myself, there where the wall was surmountable, and resting my chest near the girl I clasped her breasts and wantoned on her face, feeding my lips on the softness of hers. So her lovely mouth was my sole trophy and her kiss the sole token of my night assault. I have not yet stormed the tower of her virginity, but it is still firmly closed, the assault delayed. Yet, if I deliver another attack, perchance I may carry the walls of her maidenhead, and no longer be held back by the ramparts. If I succeed I will weave a wreath for thee, Cypris the Conqueror.

§ 5.295  LEONTIUS
Touch, O cup, the lips that drop honey, suck now thou hast the chance. I envy not, but would thy luck were mine.

§ 5.296  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Ever since the prophetic bowl pealed aloud in response to the touch of the far-away love-splash, I know that you love me, but you will convince me completely by passing the night with me. This will show that you are wholly sincere, and I will leave the tipplers to enjoy the strokes of the wine-dregs.

§ 5.297  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Young men have not so much suffering as is the lot of us poor tender-hearted girls. They have friends of their own age to whom they confidently tell their cares and sorrows, and they have games to cheer them, and they can stroll in the streets and let their eyes wander from one picture to another. We on the contrary are not even allowed to see the daylight, but are kept hidden in our chambers, the prey of dismal thoughts.

§ 5.298  JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT Charming Maria is too exalted: but do thou, holy Justice, punish her arrogance, yet not by death, my Queen, but on the contrary may she reach grey old age, may her hard face grow wrinkled. May the grey hairs avenge these tears, and beauty, the cause of her soul's transgression, suffer for it.

§ 5.299  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
"Naught in excess " said the sage; and I, believing myself to be comely and loveable, was puffed up by pride, and fancied that this, it would seem, crafty girl's heart lay entirely in my hands. But she now holds herself very high and her brow looks down on me with scorn, as if she found fault with her previous lenity. Now I, formerly so fierce-looking, so brazen, so obdurate, I who flew so high have had a sudden fall. Everything is reversed, and throwing myself on my knees I cried to her: "Forgive me, my youth was at fault."

§ 5.300  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
He who was so confident and held his head so high and gathered his brow, lies low now, the plaything of a feeble girl; he who thought formerly to crush the child with his overbearing manner, is himself subdued and has lost his hope. He now falls on his knees and supplicates and laments like a girl, while she has the angry look of a man. Lion-hearted maid, though thou burnest with just anger, quench thy pride; so near hast thou looked on Nemesis.

§ 5.301  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Though thou settest thy foot far beyond Meroe; winged love shall carry me there with winged power, though thou hiest to the dawn as rose-red as thyself, I will follow thee on foot a myriad miles. If I send thee now this gift from the deep, forgive me, my lady. It is Aphrodite of the sea who offers it to thee, vanquished by the loveliness of thy fair body and abandoning her old confidence in her beauty.

§ 5.302  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS By what road shall one go to the Land of Love? If you seek him in the streets, you will repent the courtesan's greed for gold and luxury. If you approach a maiden's bed, it must end in lawful wedlock or punishment for seduction. Who would endure to awake reluctant desire for his lawful wife, forced to do a duty? Adulterous intercourse is the worst of all and has no part in love, and unnatural sin should be ranked with it. As for widows, if one of them is ill-conducted, she is anyone's mistress, and knows all the arts of harlotry, while if she is chaste she with difficulty consents, she is pricked by loveless remorse, hates what she has done, and having a remnant of shame shrinks from the union till she is disposed to announce its end. If you associate with your own servant, you must make up your mind to change places and become hers, and if with someone else's, the law which prosecutes for outrage on slaves not one's own will mark you with infamy. Diogenes escaped all this and sang the marriage hymn to his palm, not craving for Lais.

§ 5.303  Anonymous
There is a noise of loud shouting and great tumult in the street, and why takest thou no heed, Cypris? It is thy boy arrested on his way by all who have the fire of love in their hearts.

§ 5.304  Anonymous
When you were a green grape you refused me, when you were ripe you bade me be off, at least grudge me not a little of your raisin.

§ 5.305  Anonymous
A girl kissed me in the evening with wet lips. The kiss was nectar, for her mouth smelt sweet of nectar; and I am drunk with the kiss, I have drunk love in abundance.

§ 5.306  PHILODEMUS
(Addressed by a girl to a man) You weep, you speak in piteous accents, you look strangely at me, you are jealous, you touch me often and go on kissing me. That is like a lover; but when I say "Here I am next you" and you dawdle, you have absolutely nothing of the lover in you.

§ 5.307  ANTIPHILUS
(On a Picture of Zeus and Leda) This is the Laconian river Eurotas, and that is Leda with nothing on, and he who is hidden in the swan is Zeus. And you little Cupids, who are luring me so little disposed to love, what bird am I to become? If Zeus is a swan, I suppose I must be a lark.

§ 5.308  ANTIPHILUS or PHILODEMUS
O you pretty creature, wait for me. What is your name? Where can I see you? I will give what you choose. You don't even speak. Where do you live? I will send someone with you. Do you possibly belong to anyone? Well, you stuck-up thing, goodbye. You won't even say "goodbye." But again and again I will accost you. I know how to soften even more hard-hearted beauties; and for the present, "goodbye, madam! "

§ 5.309  DIOPHANES OF MYRINA
Love may justly be called thrice a brigand. He is wakeful, reckless, and he strips us bare.

§ 6.1a  BOOK VI THE DEDICATORY EPIGRAMS
From one stone lighten the varied rites of Bacchus' worship and above the company of winged Cupids plucking grapes. {This should perhaps be transferred to the end of the previous book. It refers no doubt to a carved gem.)

§ 6.1  PLATO
I, Lais, whose haughty beauty made mock of Greece, I who once had a swarm of young lovers at my doors, dedicate my mirror to Aphrodite, since I wish not to look on myself as I am, and cannot look on myself as I once was.

§ 6.2  SIMONIDES
This bow, resting from tearful war, hangs here under the roof of Athenaia's temple. Often mid the roar of battle, in the struggle of men, was it washed in the blood of Persian cavaliers.

§ 6.3  DIONYSIUS
Heracles, who treadest stony Trachis and Oeta and the headland of Pholoe clothed in deep forest, to thee Dionysius offers this club yet green, which he cut himself with his sickle from a wild olive-tree.

§ 6.4  LEONIDAS
Diophantus the fisherman, as is fit, dedicates to the patron of his craft these relics of his old calling, his hook, easily gulped down, his long poles, his line, his creels, this weel, device of sea-faring netsmen for trapping fishes, his sharp trident, weapon of Poseidon, and the two oars of his boat.

§ 6.5  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Piso the fisherman, weighed down by long toil and his right hand already shaky, gives to Hermes these his rods with the lines hanging from their tips, his oar that swam through the sea, his curved hooks whose points bite the fishes' throats, his net fringed with lead, the float that announced where his weel lay, his two wicker creels, the flint pregnant with fire that sets the tinder alight, and his anchor, the trap that holds fast wandering ships.

§ 6.6  On a Caldron in Delphi
Amphitryon dedicated me, having won me from the Teleboi.

§ 6.7  On Another
Scaeus, having conquered in the boxing contest, dedicated me a beautiful ornament to thee, Apollo the Far-shooter.

§ 6.8  On Another
Laodamas himself during his reign dedicated to thee, Apollo the Archer, this tripod as a beautiful ornament.

§ 6.9  MNASALCAS
Here hang as gifts from Promachus to thee, Phoebus, his crooked bow and quiver that delights in arrows; but his winged shafts, the deadly gifts he sent his foes, are in the hearts of men on the field of battle.

§ 6.10  ANTIPATER
Trito-born Saviour, daughter of Zeus, who hatest wedlock, Pallas, queen of childless virginity, Seleucus built thee this horned altar at the bidding of Apollo (P).

§ 6.11  SATYRIUS
The three brothers, skilled in three crafts, dedicate to Pan, Damis the huntsman this long net, Pigres his light-meshed fowling net, and Clitor, the night-rower, his tunic for red mullet. Look kindly on the pious brethren, O Pan, and grant them gain from fowl, fish and venison.

§ 6.12  JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT Receive, Pan, the nets of the three brothers for three kinds of chase. Pigres brings his from fowl, Damis from beast, and Clitor from sea. Grant them good sport from air, earth, and water.

§ 6.13  LEONIDAS
Huntsman Pan, the three brothers dedicated these nets to thee, each from a different chase: Pigres these from fowl, Damis these from beast, and Clitor his from the denizens of the deep. In return for which send them easily caught game, to the first through the air, to the second through the woods, and to the third through the shore-water.

§ 6.14  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
The three brothers dedicated to Pan these implements of their craft: Damis his net for trapping the beasts of the mountain, Clitor this net for fish, and Pigres this untearable net that fetters birds' necks. For they never returned home with empty nets, the one from the copses, the second from the air, the third from the sea.

§ 6.15  ANTIPATER OF SIDON or by ZOSIMUS
The blessed triad of brothers dedicated these nets to Pan: Clitor his fishing nets, Damis his hunting nets, Pigres his fowling nets. But do thou grant them sport in air, sea, and land.

§ 6.16  ARCHIAS
To thee, Pan the scout, the three brothers from three kinds of netting gave these manifold gifts: Damis his net for beasts, Pigres his neck-fetters for birds, Clitor his drift-nets. Make the first again successful in the air, the second in the sea, and the third in the thickets.

§ 6.17  LUCIAN
(On the above Exercises)
Three courtesans dedicated their playthings to you, blessed Cyprian, each from a different task. From her bottom Euphro offered this, from the proper place Cleio that, the third Atthis from the heavens. In exchange send the first, Mistress, boyish profits, to the second feminine ones, to the third, of neither.

§ 6.18  JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On Lais' Mirror
Lais, her loveliness laid low by time, hates whatever witnesses to her wrinkled age. Therefore, detesting the cruel evidence of her mirror, she dedicates it to the queen of her former glory. "Receive, Cytherea, the circle, the companion of youth, since thy beauty dreads not time."

§ 6.19  By the same on the same
Thou grantest beauty, Cytherea, but creeping time withers thy gift, my Queen. Now since thy gift has passed me by and flown away, receive, gracious goddess, this mirror that bore witness to it.

§ 6.20  By the same on the same
Lais took captive by her beauty Greece, which had laid in the dust the proud shield of Persia. Only old age conquered her, and the proof of her fall, the friend of her youth, she dedicates to thee, Cypris. She hates to see even the shadowy image of those grey hairs, whose actual sight she cannot bear.

§ 6.21  Anonymous
To thee, Priapus the gardener, did Potamon, who gained wealth by this calling, dedicate the hoe that dug his thirsty garden, and his curved sickle for cutting vegetables, the ragged cloak that kept the rain off his back, his strong boots of untanned hide, the dibble for planting out young cabbages going straight into the easily pierced soil, and his mattock that never ceased during the dry summer to refresh the thirsty beds with draughts from the channels.

§ 6.22  Anonymous
The fruit-watcher dedicated to rustic Priapus, carved out of a trunk, this sacrifice from the trees, a newly split pomegranate, this quince covered with fresh down, a navelled fig with wrinkled skin, a purple cluster of thick-set grapes, fountain of wine, and a walnut just out of its green rind.

§ 6.23  Anonymous
Hermes, who dwellest in this wave-beaten rock-cave, that gives good footing to fisher gulls, accept this fragment of the great seine worn by the sea and scraped often by the rough beach; this little purse-seine, the round weel that entraps fishes, the float whose task it is to mark where the weels are concealed, and the long cane rod, the child of the marsh, with its horse-hair line, not unfurnished with hooks, wound round it.

§ 6.24  Anonymous
Heliodorus dedicates to the Syrian Daimon in the porch [propylon] of this temple his net worn out in vain. It is untainted by any catch of fish, but he hauled out plenty of sea-weed in it on the spacious beach of the anchorage.

§ 6.25  JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT Old Cinyras, weary of long fishing, dedicates to the Nymphs this worn sweep-net; for no longer could his trembling hand cast it freely to open in an enfolding circle. If the gift is but a small one, it is not his fault, ye Nymphs, for this was all Cinyras had to live on.

§ 6.26  By the same
Cinyras dedicates to the nymphs this net, for his old age cannot support the labour of casting it. Feed, ye fish, happily, since Cinyras old age has given freedom to the sea.

§ 6.27  THEAETETUS SCHOLASTICUS
{This and the next two are Exercises on the Theme of No. 5) Baeto the fisherman, now his hand is heavy with ailing old age, gives to the gods who grant good catches his many-eyed net that caught him many a fish, his pair of rods with their hooks, his float, the faithful indicator of the weels set in the depths, his flint that gives birth to fire when struck, the anchor besides, fetter of the storm, that held his boat fast, and the jaws of his curved hooks that pierce fishes.

§ 6.28  JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT Baeto the fisherman, having reached trembling old age, offers thee, Hermes, these gifts, his pliant rods, his oar, whip of his boat, his curved, pointed hooks, his encompassing circular net weighted with lead, the floats that testify to where the weels lie in the sea, a pair of well-woven creels, this stone, the mother of fire, and his anchor, the stay of his unstable boat.

§ 6.29  By the same
To Hermes Baeto, fearing the weakness of old age, gives the implements of his sea-faring craft, his anchor, his round flint, his creel and float, his hook, oar, nets and rods.

§ 6.30  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL {after No. 38) Old Amyntichus, his toil on the deep over, bound his lead-weighted net round his fishing spear, and to Poseidon and the salt sea wave said, shedding tears, "Thou knowest. Lord, that I am weary with toil, and now in my evil old age wasting Poverty, from whom there is no release, is in her youthful prime. Feed the old man while he yet breathes, but from the land as he wishes, thou who art Lord over both land and sea."

§ 6.31  NICARCHUS (?) I have offered this as a common gift to Pan the goattreader, to Dionysus the giver of good fruit, and to Demeter the Earth-goddess, and I beg from them fine flocks, good wine and to gather good grain from the ears.

§ 6.32  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Charicles by the wooded hill offered to Pan who loves the rock this yellow, bearded goat, a horned creature to the horned, a hairy one to the hairylegged, a bounding one to the deft leaper, a denizen of the woods to the forest god.

§ 6.33  MAECIUS
Priapus of the beach, the fishermen, after surrounding with their deep-sunk net the circling shoal of tunnies in the green narrows of the sea, dedicated to thee these gifts out of the profits of the rich catch they made on this strand — a bowl of beech wood, a stool roughly carved of heath, and a glass wine-cup, so that when thy weary limbs are broken by the dance thou mayest rest them and drive away dry thirst.

§ 6.34  RHIANUS
Polyaenus hung here as a gift to Pan the club, the bow and these boar's feet. Also to the Lord of the hills he dedicated this quiver and the dog-collar, gifts of thanks for his success in boar-hunting. But do thou, O Pan the scout, send home Polyaenus, the son of Symilas, in future, too, laden with spoils of the chase.

§ 6.35  LEONIDAS
This skin did Teleso stretch on the woodland plane-tree, an offering to goat-hoofed Pan the goat-treader, and the crutched, well-pointed staff, with which he used to bring down red-eyed wolves, the cheese-pails, too, and the leash and collars of his keen-scented hounds.

§ 6.36  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
These trusses from the furrows of his little field did Sosicles the husbandman dedicate to thee, Demeter, who lovest the corn; for this is a rich harvest of grain he hath gathered. But another time, too, may he bring back his sickle blunted by reaping.

§ 6.37  Anonymous
The rustic herdsmen cut on the mountain this beech-branch which old age had bent as it bends us, and having trimmed it, set it up by the road, a pretty toy for Pan who protects the glossy cattle.

§ 6.38  PHILIPPUS
To thee Poseidon, Lord of the sea, did Amyntichus give these his last gifts, when he ceased from his toil on the deep — his nets edged with lead that plunge into the sea, his oar still drunk with the brine, his spear for killing sea-monsters, strong lanee of the waters, his weel ever betrayed by floats, his anchor, firm hand of his boat, and the flint, dear to sailors, that has the art of guarding the seed of fire.

§ 6.39  ARCHIAS
The three Samian sisters Satyra, Heraclea, and Euphro, daughters of Xuthus and Melite, dedicate to thee, Lady Athene, whose workwomen they were, the implements with which they long supported themselves in their poverty, the first her spindle, twirling servant of the spidery thread, together with its long distaff, the other her musical comb, busy maker of close-woven cloth, and the third the basket that loved to hold her wool.

§ 6.40  MACEDONIUS
The two oxen are mine and they helped to grow the corn. Be kind, Demeter, and receive them, though they be of dough and not from the herd. Grant that my real oxen may live, and fill thou my fields with sheaves, returning me richest thanks. For the years of thy husbandman, who loves the truth, are already four-score and four. He never reaped rich Corinthian harvests, but never tasted bitter poverty, stranger to corn.

§ 6.41  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
His brazen share that breaks the clods and cuts the fallows, the leather thong that passes under the neck of the ox, the goad with which he pricks it, and his plough-bolt doth the husbandman Callimenes dedicate to thee, Demeter, after cutting the back of his well-ploughed field. Grant me to reap the corn, and I will bring thee a sickle, too.

§ 6.42  Anonymous
Poor Alcimenes, having tasted the gifts of fruitful summer in a little garden, when he brought to Pan as a present an apple, a fig, and some water, said: "Thou givest me from thy treasury the good things of life; so accept these, the fruits from the garden and the water from thy rock, and give me in return more than thou hast received."

§ 6.43  PLATO (?) Some traveller, who stilled here his tormenting thirst in the heat, moulded in bronze and dedicated ex voto this servant of the Nymphs, the damp songster who loves the rain, the frog who takes joy in light fountains; for it guided him to the water, as he wandered, singing opportunely with its amphibious mouth from the damp hollow. Then, not deserting the guiding voice, he found the drink he longed for.

§ 6.44  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM(?) To the must-bibbing Satyrs and to Bacchus the planter of the vine did Heronax consecrate these three casks of fresh wine filled from three vineyards, the first-fruits of his planting. We, having first poured what is right from them to purple Bacchus and the Satyrs, will drink more than the Satyrs.

§ 6.45  Anonymous
Comaulus hung up alive to Bacchus this hedgehog, its body bristling with sharp spines, the grape-gatherer, the spoiler of the sweet vineyards, having caught it curled up in a ball and rolling on the grapes.

§ 6.46  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
Pherenicus, having quitted the wars and the altar, presented to Athene his brazen trumpet, erst the spokesman of peace and war, sending forth a barbarous clamour from its mouth.

§ 6.47  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
Bitto dedicated to Athene her melodious loomcomb, implement of the work that was her scanty livelihood, saying, "Hail, goddess, and take this; for I, a widow in my fortieth year, forswear thy gifts and on the contrary take to the works of Cypris; I see that the wish is stronger than age."

§ 6.48  Anonymous
Bitto dedicated to Athene her industrious loomcomb, the implement of her scanty livelihood, for then she conceived a hatred for all toil among workfolk, and for the weaver's wretched cares. To Athene she said, "I will take to the works of Cypris, voting like Paris against thee."

§ 6.49  On a Tripod at Delphi
I am a bronze tripod, dedicated at Delphi to adorn the shrine; swift-footed Achilles offered me as a prize at Patroclus' funeral feast, and Diomed the warlike son of Tydeus dedicated me, having conquered in the horse-race by the broad Hellespont.

§ 6.50  SIMONIDES
On the Altar at Plataea commemorating the battle
This altar of Zeus Eleutherios did the Hellenes erect, an ornament for Hellas such as becomes a free land, after that, obeying their brave hearts' impulse, they had driven out the Persians by the might of their hands and by the toil of battle.

§ 6.51  Anonymous
To thee, my mother Rhea, nurse of Phrygian lions, whose devotees tread the heights of Dindymus, did womanish Alexis, ceasing from furious clashing of the brass, dedicate these stimulants of his madness — his shrill-toned cymbals, the noise of his deep-voiced flute, to which the crooked horn of a young steer gave a curved form, his echoing tambourines, his knives reddened with blood, and the yellow hair which once tossed on his shoulders. Be kind, O Queen, and give rest in his old age from his former wildness to him who went mad in his youth.

§ 6.52  SIMONIDES
Rest, my long lance, thus against the high column and remain sacred to Panomphaean Zeus. For now thy point is old, and thou art worn by long brandishing in the battle.

§ 6.53  BACCHYLIDES
Eudemus dedicated this temple in his field to Zephyr the richest of all winds; for he came in answer to his prayer to help him winnow quickly the grain from the ripe ears.

§ 6.54  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
To Lycorean Apollo doth Locrian Eunomus dedicate the brazen cicada, in memory of his contest for the crown. The contest was in lyre-playing, and opposite him stood his competitor, Parthis. But when the Locrian shell rang to the stroke of the plectrum, the string cracked with a hoarse cry. But before the running melody could go lame, a cicada lighted on the lyre chirping tenderly and caught up the vanishing note of the chord, adapting to the fashion of our playing its wild music that used to echo in the woods. Therefore, divine Son of Leto, doth he honour thee with the gift of thy cicada, perching the brazen songster upon thy lyre.

§ 6.55  JOHANNES BARBOCALLUS
I, Hermophiles the herdsman, the bridegroom of rosy-wreathed Eurynome, dedicate curdled milk and honey-combs to Peitho and Aphrodite. Receive the curds in place of her, the honey in place of me.

§ 6.56  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Lenagoras, a vine-dresser, dedicated to Bacchus an ivy-crowned Satyr overloaded with wine. His head is nodding and you would say that everything in him is drunk, everything is unsteady, the fawnskin, his hair, the ivy, his eyes. Art with her mute moulding imitates even Nature, and Matter does not venture to oppose her.

§ 6.57  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
To thee, goat-footed Pan, did Teucer, the Arab, dedicate on the pine-tree this lion's skin, armed with five-pointed claws, flenched with its tawny, gaping head, and the very lance he slew it with. On the half eaten lance-head on which the brute vented its roaring anger, remain the marks of its teeth. But the Nymphs of the streams and woods celebrated its death by a dance, since it often used to terrify them too.

§ 6.58  ISIDORUS SCHOLASTICUS of Bolbytine(?) Thy friend Endymion, O Moon, dedicates to thee, ashamed, his bed that survives in vain and its futile cover; for grey hair reigns over his whole head and no trace of his former beauty is left.

§ 6.59  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Callirrhoe dedicates to Aphrodite her garland, to Pallas her tress and to Artemis her girdle; for she found the husband she wanted, she grew up in virtue and she gave birth to boys.

§ 6.60  PALLADAS
Pamphile, in place of an ox and a golden offering, dedicated to Isis these glossy locks; and the goddess takes more pleasure in them than Apollo in the gold that Croesus sent him from Lydia.

§ 6.61  PALLADAS
O heavenly razor, happy razor with which Pamphile shore her plaited tresses to dedicate them. It was no human smith that wrought thee, but beside the forge of Hephaestus the bright-snooded Grace (to use Homer's words) took up the golden hammer and fashioned thee with her own hands.

§ 6.62  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Callimenes, on giving up his work, now old age has veiled his eyes, dedicates to the Muses his circular lead which marks off the margin of the pages, and the knife that sharpens his pointed pens, his longest ruler, and the pumice from the beach, the dry porous stone of the sea.

§ 6.63  DAMOCHARIS
Weary Menedemus, his old eyes misty, dedicates to thee, Hermes (and feed ever thy labourer), these implements of his calling, the round lead full of black matter giving birth to lines, the ruler that with a sharp edge, rotating on its axis, and fixed to a holder keeps the pens very straight, the receptacle of the black writing fluid, his well-cut reed-pens split at the top, the rough stone that sharpens and improves the pens when they are worn and the writing is too scratchy, and the flat steel penknife with sharp point.

§ 6.64  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Philodemus, now that his wrinkled brows owing to old age come to hang over his eyes, dedicates to Hermes the round lead that draws dark lines, the pumice, rough whet-stone of hard pens, the knife, flat sharpener of the split reed-pens, the ruler that takes charge of the straightness of lines, the ink long kept in hollowed caverns and the notched pens blackened at the point.

§ 6.65  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Callimenes, resting from its long labour his sluggish hand that trembles with age, dedicates to Hermes his disc of lead that running correctly close to the straight ruler can deftly mark its track, the hard steel that eats the pens, the ruler itself, too, guide of the undeviating line, the rough stone on which the double-tooth of the pen is sharpened when blunted by long use, the sponge, wandering Triton's couch in the deep, healer of the pen's errors, and the ink-box with many cavities that holds in one all the implements of calligraphy.

§ 6.66  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Here Callimenes, his eye and hand enfeebled by age, dedicates to the laughter-loving Muses the never-moistened lead which draws that undeviating line on which is based the regularity of the script, the ruler which guides the course of this revolving lead, the porous stone like a sponge, the receptacle of the permanent ink, the pens themselves, too, their tips dyed black, the sponge, flower of the sea, forming the meadows of the liquid deep, and the knife, brazen artificer of slender pens.

§ 6.67  JULIAN PREFECT OF EGYPT
Philodemus, now that Time has dulled his eyesight and set his hand at liberty, dedicates to Hermes this lead, that keeps straight for pens their undeviating path, the ruler, the lead's companion and guide, the porous stone which sharpens the blunt lip of the pen, the pens and ink, mystic implements of the human voice, and the pen-knife sharp as a chopper.

§ 6.68  JULIAN PREFECT OF EGYPT
I dedicate to thee this lead disc that, by its revolutions, marks the furrows for the straight-travelling pen to run in, the ruler which assures that the mark of the staining lead shall be straight, the stone that sharpens the deftly split pens, the inkstand and pens, by which Time guards for future generations the voice of the departed. Receive, too, the steel chisel, to which bold Ares and the Muses assigned its proper task. These all, Hermes, are thy tools, and do thou set straight the life of feeble Philodemus, whose livelihood is failing him.

§ 6.69  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Crantas, after his many voyages, dedicates his ship to Poseidon, fixing it firmly on the floor of the temple. It cares not for the winds now it is on the earth, the earth on which Crantas, stretching himself at his ease, sleeps a fearless sleep.

§ 6.70  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
O King of the sea and lord of the land, I, Crantas, dedicate to thee this my ship, no longer immerged in the sea — my ship, bird blown by the wandering winds, in which I, poor wretch, often thought I was being driven to Hades. Now, having renounced them all, fear, hope, sea, storms, I plant my steps confidently on dry land.

§ 6.71  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Here in the dust lie dedicated to thee, Lais, all these spoils of love-smitten Anaxagoras. To thee he gives the leaves of his wreaths torn into a thousand pieces, to thee the shattered cups from which he quaffed the maddening wine, to thee his locks dripping with scent. For at these doors, poor wretch, full oft he passed the night with the young men his companions, but could never draw from thee one word, one sweet promise, not even a word of scorn for honeyed hope. Alas! Alas! all wasted away he leaves here these tokens of his love-revelling, and curses the beauty of the unbending fair.

§ 6.72  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
I saw the hare sitting near the vine, nibbling off many grapes. I called the farmer, who saw it, and surprising it he knocked out its brains with a stone. He said in triumph, "It seems I have given a double gift to Bacchus, a libation and a sacrifice."

§ 6.73  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
I, Daphnis the piper, in my shaky old age, my idle hand now heavy, dedicate, now I have ceased from the labours of the fold, my shepherd's crook to rustic Pan. For still I play on the pipes, still in my trembling body my voice dwells unshaken. But let no goatherd tell the ravenous wolves in the mountains of the feebleness of my old years.

§ 6.74  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
I, Eurynome the Bacchant, who used to race over the rocks, who formerly tore the breasts of many long-horned bulls, who boasted of the lions I had overcome and slain, and made toys of the heads of irresistible beasts, have now (and pardon me), Dionysus, abandoned thy dance, and am eager rather to join the revels of Cypris. This club I dedicate to thee, and throwing aside my ivy crown, I will clasp rich gold bracelets round my wrists.

§ 6.75  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Androclus, O Apollo, gives to thee this bow, with which, hunting successfully, he shot full many a beast. For never did the archer's hand send the arrow to leap amiss, all in vain, from the curved horn, but as often as the string, fatal to every quarry, twanged, so often he slew some game in the air or in the wood, So now he brings thee, Phoebus, this Lyctian weapon, enclasping his gift with golden rings.

§ 6.76  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Cypris, thy husband Anchises, for whose sake thou didst often hasten of old to the Trojan shore, now just managed to find a black hair to cut from his temple, and dedicates it to thee as a relic of his former beauty. But, goddess, (for thou canst), either make me young again, or accept my age as youth.

§ 6.77  ERATOSTHENES SCHOLASTICUS
Xenophon, the toper, dedicates his empty cask to thee, Bacchus. Receive it kindly, for it is all he has.

§ 6.78  ERATOSTHENES SCHOLASTICUS
Daphnis, lover of women, dedicates to dear Pan the pierced reed-pipe, and this skin and club. Accept O Pan, the gifts of Daphnis, for like him thou lovest music and art unhappy in love.

§ 6.79  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
O Pan of the hills, Stratonicus the husbandman, in thanks for thy kindness, dedicates this unsown precinct and says, "Feed thy flocks here and be welcome, looking on thy plot of land, that the plough never more shall cut. Thy little country domain will bring thee luck, for Echo will be pleased with it, and will even celebrate here her marriage with thee."

§ 6.80  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
I am the nine books of Agathias' Daphniad, and he who composed me dedicates me to thee, Aphrodite. For I am not so dear to the Muses as to Love., since I treat of the mysteries of so many loves. In return for his pains he begs thee to grant him either not to love or to love one who soon consents.

§ 6.81  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Lysimachus, who has now exchanged his armour for an old man's staff, presents to Ares his oxhide shield, the protector of his body, his spear that often tasted the entrails of his foes, his coat of mail that warded off missiles from his breast, and his helmet with thick horse-hair plume.

§ 6.82  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
Meliscus would dedicate his reed-flute to Pan, but Pan says he will not accept the gift in these words: "It was from the reeds I was infected with love-madness."

§ 6.83  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
Eumolpus, finding fault with his aged hands, laid his lyre on the tripod as an offering to Phoebus. He said, "May I never touch a lyre again or carry the instrument of the music I made of old. Let young men love the lyre-string, but I, instead of holding the plectrum, support my shaky hands on a staff."

§ 6.84  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
This bossed fragment of his shield, which, when fighting gloriously, he held on his left arm, did Nicagoras dedicate to Zeus; but all the rest of it the darts and stones as thick as hail and the edge of the sword cut away. Yet though thus hacked all round in his martial hand it was preserved by Nicagoras and preserved Nicagoras. Looking on this shield one shall read the perfect observance of the Spartan law, "Meet undaunted the battle shock."

§ 6.85  PALLADAS
His breaster and leggers and shield and spear and heller Captain Gordi dedicates to Timothy.

§ 6.86  EUTOLMIUS SCHOLASTICUS
(allusion to the above) Rufus Gellius, son of Memmias, suspended here to Athene his greaves, breastplate, shield, helmet and spear.

§ 6.87  Anonymous
Thy Pan, Bacchus, dedicates to thee his fawn-skin and club, seduced away from thy dance by Venus; for he loves Echo and wanders up and down. But do thou, Bacchus, forgive him, for the like hath befallen thee.

§ 6.88  ANTIPHANES OF MACEDONIA
Cytherea herself loosed from her breast her delightful cestus and gave it to thee, Ino, for thine own, so that ever with love-charms that melt the heart thou mayest subdue men; and surely thou hast spent them all on me alone.

§ 6.89  MAECIUS QUINTUS
Priapus, who dost delight in the sea-worn rocks of this island near the coast, and in its rugged peak, to thee doth Paris the fisherman dedicate this hardshelled lobster which he overcame by his lucky rod. Its flesh he roasted and enjoyed munching with his half-decayed teeth, but this its shell he gave to thee. Therefore give him no great gift, kind god, but enough catch from his nets to still his barking belly.

§ 6.90  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Poseidon, King of the sea, to thee doth Archides, now he hath ceased to wander along the beach, dedicate his anchor that rests in the seaweed and secures his boat, his two oars that repel the water, the leads over which his net forms a vault, his weels marked by floats, his broad-brimmed rainproof hat, and the flint that generates light for mariners at even.

§ 6.91  THALLUS OF MILETUS
The shield is the offering of Promachus, the spears of Aconteus, the sword of Eumedes, and this bow is Cydon's. Hippomedon offers the reins, Melantas the helmet, Nico the greaves, Aristomachus the pike, and Philinus the cuirass. Grant to them all, Ares, spoiler of men, ever to win trophies from the foemen.

§ 6.92  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Demophon the goldsmith, his eyes misty with age, dedicates to Hermes the windy bellows of his forge, the keen-biting file that scrapes the gold, the doubleclawed fire-tongs, and these hare's pads that gather up the shavings.

§ 6.93  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
Harpalion the huntsman, the old man nothing but wrinkles, offered me, this hunting spear, to Heracles; for by reason of many years his hands would no longer support my weight and his head is now grey.

§ 6.94  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Clytosthenes, his feet that raced in fury now enfeebled by age, dedicates to thee, Rhea of the lioncar, his tambourines beaten by the hand, his shrill hollow-rimmed cymbals, his double-flute that calls through its horn, on which he once made shrieking music, twisting his neck about, and the two-edged knife with which he opened his veins.

§ 6.95  ANTIPHILUS
Parmis the husbandman, resting from his sore toil, dedicates to Demeter his ox-turning iron-tipped, threatening goad, his bag, measure of the seedcorn, his curved sickle, husbandry's weapon, that cuts off the corn-ears, his winnowing fork, threefingered hand of the harvest, that throws the corn up against the wind, and his laced boots.

§ 6.96  ERYCIUS
Glaucon and Corydon, who keep their cattle on the hills, Arcadians both, drawing back its neck slaughtered for Cyllenian Pan, the mountain-lover, a horned steer, and fixed by a long nail to the goodly plane-tree its horns, twelve palms long, a fair ornament for the pastoral god.

§ 6.97  ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM
The spear of Alexander; the inscription on thee tells that after the war he dedicated thee to Artemis as a token thereof, the weapon of his invincible arm. O good spear, before the shaking of which earth and sea yielded! Hail, fearless spear! and ever all who look on thee will tremble, mindful of that mighty hand.

§ 6.98  ZONAS
To Demeter the Winnower and the Horae (seasons) that tread in the furrows Heronax from his scanty tilth offers a portion of the corn from his threshing-floor and these various vegetables on a wooden tripod — very little from a small store; for he owns but this little glebe on the barren hill-side.

§ 6.99  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
Philoxenides the worthy goatherd dedicated thee, the Pan he carved from an unbarked beech trunk, after sacrificing an old he-goat and making thy holy altar drunk with the first milk of a she-goat. In reward for which the goats in his fold shall all bear twins in the womb and escape the sharp tooth of the wolf.

§ 6.100  CRINAGORAS
Antiphanes, whose father bore the same name, dedicated to Hermes, still burning in his hand, the torch, object of the young men's holy strife, the glorious meed of victory, having run swiftly with it, as if mindful of how Prometheus stole the fire.

§ 6.101  PHILIPPUS
Timasion, whose limbs have now lost their lustiness, dedicated to thee, slow-footed Hephaestus, his knives that have slaughtered many beasts, his windy bellows that feed the fire, his pierced tammy and that four-footed bridge of fire, the charcoal pan on which the meat is set, his ladle that skims off the foaming fat, together with his iron-fingered flesh-hook.

§ 6.102  PHILIPPUS
To thee, Priapus, who lovest the wayfarer, did the gardener Lamon, praying that his trees and his own limbs may flourish, dedicate a yellow-coated pomegranate, figs wrinkled like old men, half-ripe reddening grapes plucked from a cluster, a sweet-scented quince with a fleece of fine down, a walnut peeping from its green outer skin, a cucumber wont to lie embedded in its leaves with the bloom on it, and a goldensmocked olive already ripe.

§ 6.103  PHILIPPUS
Leontichus, when time had stripped from his limbs all bloom, gave to thee, grey-eyed Athene, his taut plumb-line weighted with lead, his hammer that strikes planks, his curved bow-drill with its string attached to it at both ends, his sturdy axe for hewing tree-trunks, his straight-running saw that follows the drops of red ochre, his augers worked by the hand, his gimlets, and his taut ochre-stained line just touched by the extreme edge of the rule.

§ 6.104  PHILIPPUS
Lysixenus, deprived of the use of his limbs by much ploughing, suspends to Demeter with the wreath of corn, his seed-bag carried on the shoulder, his mallet for breaking clods, his curved sickle that gathers the corn, his sharp-toothed threshing "trebbia," his plough-tree with the curved plough and the share that loves the earth, his goad that pricks the oxen in the rear, the traces attached to their legs that make them turn, and his wooden winnowing-fork, the hand of the husbandman.

§ 6.105  APOLLONIDES
I, Menis the net-fisher, give to thee, Artemis of the harbour, a grilled red-mullet and a hake, a cup of wine filled to the brim with a piece of dry bread broken into it, a poor sacrifice, in return for which grant that my nets may be always full of fish; for all nets, gracious goddess, are given to thy keeping.

§ 6.106  ZONAS
This skin, O woodland god, did Telamon, the slayer of wolves, suspend to thee on the plane-tree in the field, also his staff of wild olive wood winch he often sent whirling from his hand. But do thou, Pan, god of the hills, receive these not very rich gifts, and open to him this mountain, thy domain, to hunt thereon with success.

§ 6.107  PHILIPPUS
The huntsman Gelo dedicates to Pan, the ranger of the forest, me, his spear, the edge of which time hath worn by use, also the old rags of his twisted hunting-nets, his nooses that throttle the neck, his foot-traps, made of sinews, quick to nip beasts by the leg, and the collars, masters of his dogs' necks; for Time has overcome his strength, and he has now renounced wandering over the hills.

§ 6.108  MYRINUS
Ye Pans, keepers of the high mountains, ye jolly horned dancers, lords of grassy Arcady, make Diotimus rich in sheep and goats, accepting the gifts of his splendid sacrifice.

§ 6.109  ANTIPATER
Craugis the huntsman, son of Neolaidas, an Arcadian of Orchomenus, gives to thee, Pan the Scout, this scrap of his old fowling-net, his triple-twisted snare for the feet, his spring-traps made of sinews, his latticed cages, his nooses for the throat which one draws up, his sharp stakes hardened in the fire, the sticky moisture of the oak, the cane wet with it that catches birds, the triple cord which is pulled to close the hidden spring-net, and the net for catching by the neck the clamorous cranes.

§ 6.110  LEONIDAS or MNASALCAS
Cleolaus killed with his sharp spear, from his ambush under the hill, this hind by the winding water of Maeander, and nailed to the lofty pine the eight-tyned defence of its forehead.

§ 6.111  ANTIPATER
Lycormas, the son of Thearidas of Lasion, slew with the butt end of his whirled spear the hind that used to feed about the Ladon and the waters of Erymanthus and the heights of Pholoe, home of wild beasts. Its skin and two spiked homs he flenched, and hung up by the shrine of Artemis the Huntress.

§ 6.112  PERSES
These three heads of Maenalian stags with vast antlers hang in thy portico, Apollo. They were shot from horseback by the hands of Gyges, Dailochos and Promenes, the children of valiant Leontiades.

§ 6.113  SIMMIAS GRAMMATICUS
I was formerly one of the two horns of a wild long-haired ibex, and was garlanded with green leaves; but now the worker in horn has adapted me for Nicomachus, stretching on me the strong sinew of a crumple-horned ox.

§ 6.114  PHILIPPUS OF THESSALONICA
We hang in the porch, a gift of the king to Heracles, the skin and mighty horns, fourteen palms long, of a wild bull, which when it confronted Philip, glorying in its strength, his terrible spear brought to ground, on the spurs of Orbelus, the land of wild cattle. Blest indeed is Macedon, which is ruled by such a chief.

§ 6.115  ANTIPATER
The bull that bellowed erst on the heights of Orbelus, the brute that laid Macedonia waste, Philip, the wielder of the thunder-bolt, the destroyer of the Dardanians, hath slain, piercing its forehead with his hunting-spear; and to thee, Heracles, he hath dedicated with its strong hide these horns, the defence of its monstrous head. From thy race he sprung, and it well becomes him to emulate his ancestor's prowess in slaying cattle.

§ 6.116  SAMUS
As a gift to thee, Heracles, sacker of Orchomenus, did Philip dedicate this, the smooth hide, with its horns, of the loud-bellowing bull, whose glorying insolence he quenched in the rough foot-hills of Orbelus. Let envy pine away; but thy glory is increased, in that from thy race sprang the Beroean lord of Macedon.

§ 6.117  PANCRATES
The hammer from the fire, with the pliers and tongs, is consecrated to thee, Hephaestus, the gift of Polycrates, with which often beating on his anvil he gained substance for his children, driving away doleful poverty.

§ 6.118  ANTIPATER
The lyre, the bow, and the intricate nets are dedicated to Phoebus by Sosis, Phila and Polycrates. The archer dedicated the horn bow, she, the musician, the tortoise-shell lyre, the hunter his nets. Let the first be supreme in archery, let her be supreme in playing, and let the last be first among huntsmen.

§ 6.119  MOERO OF BYZANTIUM
Cluster, full of the juice of Dionysus, thou restest under the roof of Aphrodite's golden chamber: no longer shall the vine, thy mother, cast her lovely branch around thee, and put forth above thy head her sweet leaves.

§ 6.120  LEONIDAS
Not only do I know how to sing perched in the high trees, warm in the midsummer heat, making music for the wayfarer without payment, and feasting on delicate dew, but thou shalt see me too, the cicada, seated on helmeted Athene's spear. For as much as the Muses love me, I love Athene; she, the maiden, is the author of the flute.

§ 6.121  CALLIMACHUS
Ye denizens of Cynthus, be of good cheer; for the bow of Cretan Echemmas hangs in Ortygia in the house of Artemis, that bow with which he cleared a great mountain of you. Now he rests, ye goats, for the goddess has made him consent to a truce.

§ 6.122  NICIAS
Maenad of Ares, sustainer of war, impetuous spear, who now hath set thee here, a gift to the goddess who awakes the battle? " Menius; for springing lightly from his hand in the forefront of the fight I wrought havoc among the Odrysae on the plain."

§ 6.123  ANYTE
Stand here, thou murderous spear, no longer drip from thy brazen barb the dismal blood of foes; but resting in the high marble house of Athene, announce the bravery of Cretan Echecratidas.

§ 6.124  HEGESIPPUS
I am fixed here under the roof of warrior Pallas' temple, the shield from the mortal shoulders of Timanor, often befouled with the dust of iron war. Ever did I save my bearer from death.

§ 6.125  MNASALCAS
Now I rest here far from the battle, I who often saved my lord's fair breast by my back. Though receiving far-flying arrows and dreadful stones in thousands and long lances, I aver I never quitted Cleitus' long arm in the horrid din of battle.

§ 6.126  DIOSCORIDES
Not idly did Hyllus the son of Polyttus, the stout Cretan warrior, blazon on his shield the Gorgon, that turns men to stone, and the three legs. This is what they seem to tell his foes: "O thou who brandishest thy spear against my shield, look not on me, and fly with three legs from the swift-footed man."

§ 6.127  NICIAS
(A Shield speaks} So one day I was fated to leave the hideous field of battle and listen to the song and dance of girls round the temple of Artemis, where Epixenus set me, when white old age began to wear out his limbs.

§ 6.128  MNASALCAS
Rest in this holy house, bright shield, a gift from the wars to Artemis, Leto's child. For oft in the battle, fighting on Alexander's arm, thou didst in comely wise befoul with dust thy golden rim.

§ 6.129  LEONIDAS
Eight shields, eight helmets, eight woven coats of mail and as many blood-stained axes, these are the arms, spoil of the Lucanians, that Hagnon, son of Euanthes, the doughty fighter, dedicated to Coryphasian Athene.

§ 6.130  LEONIDAS
The shields, spoils of the brave Gauls, did Molossian Pyrrhus hang here as a gift to Itonian Athene, after destroying the whole army of Antigonus. 'Tis no great wonder! Now, as of old, the sons of Aeacus are warriors.

§ 6.131  LEONIDAS
These great shields won from the Lucanians, and the row of bridles, and the polished double-pointed spears are suspended here to Pallas, missing the horses and the men their masters; but them black death hath devoured.

§ 6.132  NOSSIS
These their shields the Bruttians threw from their doomed shoulders, smitten by the swiftly-charging Locrians. Here they hang in the temple of the gods, praising them, the brave, and regretting not the clasp of the cowards they left.

§ 6.133  ARCHILOCHUS
Alcibia dedicated to Hera the holy veil of her hair, when she entered into lawful wedlock.

§ 6.134  ANACREON (?)
Helicomas, she who holds the thyrsus, and Xanthippe next to her, and Glauce, are coming down the mountain on their way to the dance, and they are bringing for Dionysus ivy, grapes, and a fat goat.

§ 6.135  ANACREON (?)
This horse of Phidolas from spacious Corinth is dedicated to Zeus in memory of the might of its legs.

§ 6.136  ANACREON (?)
Praxioice worked and Dyseris designed this garment. It testifies to the skill of both.

§ 6.137  ANACREON (?)
Apollo of the silver bow, grant willingly thy grace to Naucrates, the son of Aeschylus, receiving these his vows.

§ 6.138  ANACREON (?)
Calliteles set me here of old, but this his descendants erected, to whom grant thy grace in return.

§ 6.139  ANACREON (?)
Praxagoras, son of Lycaeus, dedicated these gifts to the gods. Anaxagoras was the craftsman.

§ 6.140  ANACREON (?)
Melanthus, the son of Areiphilus, dedicated me to the wreath-loving son of Semele in memory of his victory in the dance.

§ 6.141  ANACREON (?)
The shield that saved Python from the dread battle-din hangs in the precinct of Athene.

§ 6.142  ANACREON (?)
Echecratidas, the ruler of Thessaly, dedicated me in honour of Bacchus and as a splendid ornament for his city.

§ 6.143  ANACREON (?)
On a Stable of Hermes Pray that the herald of the gods may be kind to Timonax, who placed me here to adorn this lovely porch, and as a gift to Hermes the Lord. In my gymnasium I receive whosoever wishes it, be he citizen or stranger.

§ 6.144  ANACREON (?)
Leocrates, son of Stroebus, when thou didst dedicate this statue to Hermes, neither the beautiful-haired Graces were heedless of it, nor joyous Academe, in whose bosom I tell of thy beneficence to all who approach.

§ 6.145  ANACREON (?)
Sophocles, who won the highest glory of the tragic Muse, first dedicated these altars to the gods.

§ 6.146  CALLIMACHUS
Once more, Ilithyia, come at Lycaenis' call, easing thus the pangs of labour. This, my Queen, she bestows on thee for a girl, but may thy perfumed temple afterwards receive from her something else for a boy.

§ 6.147  CALLIMACHUS
Thou knowest, Asclepius, that thou hast been paid the debt that Akeson incurred to thee by the vow he made for his wife Demodice; but if thou dost forget and claim it again, this tablet declares that it will bear witness.

§ 6.148  CALLIMACHUS
Kallistion, the wife of Critios, dedicated me, the lamp rich in twenty wicks, to the god of Canopus, having made the vow for her daughter Apellis. When you see my lights you will cry, "Hesperus, how art thou fallen! "

§ 6.149  CALLIMACHUS
"Euaenetus, who set me up, says (for I don't know) that I, the bronze cock, am dedicated to the Twin Brethren in thanks for his own victory."

§ 6.150  CALLIMACHUS
Aeschylis, the daughter of Thales, according to the promise of her mother Irene stands in the temple of Argive Isis.

§ 6.151  TYMNUS
Miccus of Pellene hung in the temple of Ilian Athene this deep-toned flute of Ares, the Tyrrhenian instrument by which he formerly uttered many a loud message of peace or war.

§ 6.152  AGIS
Midon, O Phoebus, dedicated to thee his stakes and winged hare-staves, together with his fowling canes — a small gift from small earnings; but if thou give him something greater he will repay thee with far richer gifts than these.

§ 6.153  ANYTE
The cauldron would hold an ox; the dedicator is Cleobotus, the son of Eriaspidas; his city is spacious Tegea. The gift is made to Athene; the artist is Aristoteles of Cleitor, who bears the same name as his father.

§ 6.154  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM or GAETULICUS
Old Biton of Arcady dedicated these things to rustic Pan, and Bacchus the reveller, and the Nymphs; to Pan a newly born kid, its mother's play-fellow, to Bacchus a branch of vagrant ivy, to the Nymphs the varied bloom of shady Autumn and blood-red roses in full flower. In return for which, bless the old man's house with abundance — ye Nymphs, of water, Pan, of milk, and Bacchus, of grapes.

§ 6.155  THEODORIDAS
Of one age are the locks and Crobylus, the locks that the four-year old boy shore for Apollo the lyre-player, and therewith a fighting cock did Hegesidicus' son sacrifice, and a rich march-pane. Bring Crobylus up, O Phoebus, to perfect manhood, holding thy hands over his house and his possessions.

§ 6.156  THEODORIDAS
To the Amarynthian Nymphs did Charixenus dedicate this shorn hair along with a beautiful hair-pin shaped like a cicada, all purified by holy water, together with an ox. The boy shines like a star, like a foal that has cast its first coat of down.

§ 6.157  THEODORIDAS
Artemis, guardian of Gorgus' possessions and his land, shoot the thieves with thy bow, and save thy friends. Then Gorgus at thy porch will sacrifice to thee the blood of a she-goat from his pastures and full-grown lambs.

§ 6.158  SABINUS GRAMMATICUS
(Exercise on the Theme of 154) A triple gift did Biton dedicate under the greenwood tree, to Pan a goat, roses to the Nymphs, and a thyrsus to Bacchus. Receive with joy his gifts, ye gods, and increase, Pan, his flock, ye Nymphs his fountain, and Bacchus his cellar.

§ 6.159  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
I, the trumpet that once poured forth the bloody notes of war in the battle, and the sweet tune of peace, hang here, Pherenicus, thy gift to the Tritonian maid, resting from my clamorous music.

§ 6.160  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
Industrious Telesilla, the daughter of good Diocles, dedicates to the Maiden who presides over workers in wool her weaving-comb, the halcyon of Pallas' loom, that sings in the morning with the swallows, her twirling spindle nodding with the weight, the agile spinner of the twisted thread, her thread and this work-basket that loves the distaff, the guardian of her well-wrought clews and balls of wool.

§ 6.161  CRINAGORAS
Marcellus, returning from the western war, laden with spoil, to the boundaries of rocky Italy, first shaved his yellow beard. Such was his country's wish, to send him forth a boy and receive him back a man.

§ 6.162  MELEAGER
Meleager dedicates to thee, dear Cypris, the lamp his play-fellow, that is initiated into the secrets of thy night festival.

§ 6.163  MELEAGER
What mortal hung here on the wall these spoils in which it were disgraceful for Ares to take delight? Here are set no jagged spears, no plumeless helmet, no shield stained with blood; but all are so polished, so undinted by the steel, as they were spoils of the dance and not of the battle. With these adorn a bridal chamber, but let the precinct of Ares contain arms dripping with the blood of men.

§ 6.164  LUCIAN
To Glaucus, Nereus, and Melicertes, Ino's son, to the Lord of the Depths, the son of Cronos, and to the Samothracian gods, do I, Lucillius, saved from the deep, offer these locks clipped from my head, for I have nothing else.

§ 6.165  PHALAECUS
Evanthe, when she transferred her hand from the unsteady service of the thyrsus to the steady service of the wine-cup, dedicated to Bacchus her whirling tambourine that stirs the rout of the Bacchants to fury, this dappled spoil of a flayed fawn, her clashing brass corybantic cymbals, her green thyrsus surmounted by a pine-cone, her light, but deeply-booming drum, and the winnowing-basket she often carried raised above her snooded hair.

§ 6.166  LUCILIUS
Dionysius, the only one saved out of forty sailors, dedicated here the image of his hydrocele, tying which close to his thighs he swam to shore. So even a hydrocele brings luck on some occasions.

§ 6.167  AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS
Thine, goat-legged god, for thy watch-tower by the sea, is the goat, thou who presidest over both kinds of sport. For to thee are dear both the cry of the Laconian hounds, the three-edged spear and the work of slaying the swift hare, and eke the nets spread on the waves and the toiling angler and the cable of the labouring seine-fishers. He who dedicated it was Cleonicus, since he both engaged in seafishing and often started hares from their forms.

§ 6.168  PAULUS SILENTIARIUS
The boar, the untiring spoiler of the vines, bold denizen of the reeds that toss their lofty heads, the brute that often tore up trees with its sharp tusks and put to flight the sheep-dogs, Xenophilus slew with the steel, encountering it near the river, its hair bristling, just fresh from its lair in the deep wood; and to Pan on the beech-tree he hung the hide of the grim beast.

§ 6.169  Anonymous
Comaulus, seeing the porcupine carrying grapes on its spines, slew it in this vineyard, and having dried it, he dedicated to Dionysus, who loves untempered wine, the spoiler of Dionysus' gift.

§ 6.170  THYILLUS
The elms, and these lofty willows, and the holy spreading plane, and the springs, and these shepherds' cups that cure fell thirst, are dedicated to Pan.

§ 6.171  Anonymous
To thy very self, O Sun, did the people of Dorian Rhodes raise high to heaven this colossus, then, when having laid to rest the brazen wave of war, they crowned their country with the spoils of their foes. Not only over the sea, but on the land, too, did they establish the lovely light of unfettered freedom. For to those who spring from the race of Heracles dominion is a heritage both on land and sea.

§ 6.172  Anonymous
Cnidian Porphyris suspends before thy chamber, Dionysus, these gauds of her beauty and her madness, her crowns, and this double thyrsus-spear, and her anklet, with all of which she raved her fill whenever she betook her to Dionysus, her ivy-decked fawn-skin knotted on her bosom.

§ 6.173  RHIANUS
Achrylis, Rhea's Phrygian lady-in-waiting, who often under the pines loosed her consecrated hair, who often uttered from her lips the sharp cry, painful to hear, that Cybele's votaries use, dedicated her hair here at the door of the mountain goddess, where she rested her burning feet from the mad race.

§ 6.174  ANTIPATER
The three girls all of an age, as clever as the spider at weaving delicate webs, dedicated here to Pallas, Demo her well-plaited basket, Arsinoe her spindle that produces the fine thread, and Bacchylis her well-wrought comb, the weaver's nightingale, with the skilled stroke of which she deftly parted the threads. For each of them, stranger, willed to live without reproach, gaining her living by her hands.

§ 6.175  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
This dog, trained in every kind of hunting, was carved by Leucon, and dedicated by Alcimenes. Alcimenes had no fault to find, but when he saw the statue resembling the dog in every feature he came up to it with a collar, bidding Leucon order the dog to walk, for as it looked to be barking, it persuaded him it could walk too.

§ 6.176  MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL
I dedicate to Pan and the Dryads this dog, this bag, and this barbed hunting-spear, but I will take the dog back alive to my stable to have a companion to share my dry crusts.

§ 6.177  Anonymous
White-skinned Daphnis, who plays on his pretty pipe rustic airs, dedicated to Pan his pierced reedpipe, his hare-club, his sharp spear, his fawnskin and the leather bag in which he used to carry apples.

§ 6.178  HEGESIPPUS
Accept me, Heracles, the consecrated shield of Aschestratus, so that, resting against thy polished porch I may grow old listening to song and dance. Enough of the hateful battle!

§ 6.179  ARCHIAS
(179-187 are another set of tiresome variants on the theme of 11-16) To rustic Pan three brothers dedicate these gifts each from a different kind of netting that provides sustenance — Pigres the fowling noose that catches by the neck, Damis his nets for the beasts of the forest, and Cleitor his for those of the sea. Send success to their nets by air, sea and land.

§ 6.180  ARCHIAS
The three brothers dedicate to thee, Pan, from mountain air and sea these tokens of their craft, Cleitor his net for fishes, Pigres his for birds, and Damis his for beasts. Help them as before, thou hunter god, in the chase by land, air, and sea.

§ 6.181  ARCHIAS
Pan, who dwellest in the mountains, the three brothers dedicated to thee these three nets, each from a different craft. Pigres gave his fowling nets, Damis his nets for beasts, and Cleitor his for fishes. Let the nets of the one be always lucky in the wood, those of the second in the air, and those of the third in the sea.

§ 6.182  ALEXANDER OF MAGNESIA
Pigres dedicates to thee, Pan, his nets for birds, Damis his for mountain beasts, and Cleitor his for those of the deep: a common gift from the brothers for their luck in the various kinds of chase to thee who art skilled in the things of sea and land alike. In return for which, and recognising their piety, give one dominion in the sea, the other in the air, the third in the woods.

§ 6.183  ZOSIMUS OF THASOS
The hunter brothers suspended these nets to thee, Pan, gifts from three sorts of chase; Pigres from fowls, Cleitor from the sea, and Damis, the crafty tracker, from the land. But do thou reward their toil with success in wood, sea, and air.

§ 6.184  ZOSIMUS OF THASOS
The three huntsmen, each from a different craft, dedicated these nets in Pan's temple; Pigres who set his nets for birds, Cleitor who set his for sea-fishes, and Damis who set his for the beasts of the waste. Therefore, Pan, make them more successful, the one in the air, the other in the thicket, and the third on the beach.

§ 6.185  ZOSIMUS OF THASOS
This heavy net for forest beasts did Damis dedicate, Pigres his light net that brings death to birds, and Cleitor his simple sweep-net woven of thread for the sea, praying all three to Pan the hunter's god. Therefore, Pan, grant to strong Damis good booty of beasts, to Pigres of fowls, and to Cleitor of fishes.

§ 6.186  JULIUS DIOCLES
We three brothers of one house have dedicated three nets to thee, Pan, from mountain, air, and sea. Cast his nets for this one by the shingly beach, strike the game for this one in the woods, the home of wild beasts, and look with favour on the third among the birds; for thou hast gifts, kind god, from all our netting,-.

§ 6.187  ALPHEIUS OF MYTILENE
The holy triad of brothers dedicate to Pan each a token of his own craft; Pigres a portion from his birds, Cleitor from his fish, and Damis from his straight-cut stakes. In return for which grant to the one success by land, to the second by sea, and let the third win profit from the air.

§ 6.188  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
Therimachus the Cretan suspended these his hare-staves to Lycaean Pan on the Arcadian cliff. But do thou, country god, in return for his gift, direct aright the archer's hand in battle, and in the forest dells stand beside him on his right hand, giving him supremacy in the chase and supremacy over his foes.

§ 6.189  MOERO OF BYZANTIUM
Ye Anigrian nymphs, daughters of the stream, ambrosial beings that ever tread these depths with your rosy feet, all hail, and cure Cleonymus, who set up for you under the pines these fair images.

§ 6.190  GAETULICUS
Take, honoured Cytherea, these poor gifts from poor Leonidas the poet, a bunch of five fine grapes, an early fig, sweet as honey, from the leafy branches, this leafless olive that swam in brine, a little handful of frugal barley-cake, and the libation that ever accompanies sacrifice, a wee drop of wine, lurking in the bottom of the tiny cup. But if, as thou hast driven away the disease that weighed sore on me, so thou dost drive away my poverty, I will give thee a fat goat.

§ 6.191  CORNELIUS LONGUS
Receive, Cypris, these gifts of Leonidas out of a poverty which is, as thou knowest, untempered but honest, these purple gleanings from the vine, this pickled olive, the prescribed sacrifice of barley-cake, a libation of wine which I strained off without shaking the vessel, and the sweet figs. Save me from want, as thou hast saved me from sickness, and then thou shalt see me sacrificing cattle. But hasten, goddess, to earn and receive my thanks.

§ 6.192  ARCHIAS
Phintylus suspended to Priapus these old remains of his seine, his weels, the crooked hook attached to a horse-hair line, hidden trap for fishes, his very long cane-rod, his float that sinks not in the water, ever serving as the indicator of his hidden casts; for no longer does he walk on the rocks or sleep on the beach, now he is worn by troublesome old age.

§ 6.193  FLACCUS
Priapus of the beach, neighbour of the seaweed, Damoetas the fisherman, the fathomer of the deep, the very image of a sea-worn crag, the leech of the rocks, the sea-hunter, dedicates to thee this sweep-net, with which he comforted his old age.

§ 6.194  Anonymous on a Trumpet
Preserve, Tritonian goddess, the offerings and the offerer.

§ 6.195  ARCHIAS
To Athene of Troy Miccus of Pallene suspended the deep-toned trumpet of the War-God which formerly he sounded by the altars and on the field of battle, here a sign of civic order, and there of the death-cry.

§ 6.196  STATYLLIUS FLACCUS
The bandy-legged, two-clawed sand-diver, the retrograde, neckless, eight-footed, the solid-backed, hard-skinned swimmer, the crab, does Copasus the line-fisher offer to Pan, as the first-fruits of his catch.

§ 6.197  SIMONIDES
I, Pausanias, the leader of the Greeks, dedicated this monument to Phoebus, when I destroyed the army of the Medes.

§ 6.198  ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA
Lycon, having shaved the down that flowered in its season under his temples, the manly ornament of his cheeks, dedicated it to Phoebus, a first gift, and therewith prayed that so he might also shave the gray hairs from his temples. Grant him an old age such as his youth, and as thou hast made him now thus, may he remain thus when the snow of hoary eld falls on his head.

§ 6.199  ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM
Artemis, goddess of the road, Antiphilus dedicates to thee this hat from his head, a token of his wayfaring; for thou hast hearkened to his vows, thou hast blessed his paths. The gift is not great, but given in piety, and let no covetous traveller lay his hand on my offering; it is not safe to despoil a shrine of even little gifts.

§ 6.200  LEONIDAS
Ilithyia, at thy glorious feet Ambrosia, saved from the bitter pangs of labour, laid her head-bands and her robe, because that in the tenth month she brought forth the double fruit of her womb.

§ 6.201  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
Euphrante, when she was happily delivered of the burden of her womb, dedicated in the temple of Artemis her sandals and beautiful head-band, and this scented curl cut from her lovely locks, her zone, too, and this fine under-vest, and the bright band that encompassed her bosom.

§ 6.202  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
Atthis hung over thy virginal portals, O daughter of Leto, her tasselled zone and this her frock, when thou didst deliver her heavy womb of a live child.

§ 6.203  LACON or PHILIPPUS OF
THESSALONICA The old lame serving-woman, hearing the good news of the healing water, came limping with an oaken staff that propped her stricken body. Pity seized the Nymphs who dwelt on the skirts of bellowing Etna in the watery house of their father, eddying Symaethus. The hot spring of Etna restored the strength of her lame legs, and to the Nymphs, who granted her prayer that they would send her back unsupported, she left her staff, and they rejoiced in the gift.

§ 6.204  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
Theris, the cunning worker, on abandoning his craft, dedicates to Pallas his straight cubit-rule, his stiff saw with curved handle, his bright axe and plane, and his revolving gimlet.

§ 6.205  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
These are the tools of the carpenter Leontichus, the grooved file, the plane, rapid devourer of wood, the line and ochre-box, the hammer lying next them that strikes with both ends, the rule stained with ochre, the drill-bow and rasp, and this heavy axe with its handle, the president of the craft; his revolving augers and quick gimlets too, and these four screwdrivers and his double-edged adze — all these on ceasing from his calling he dedicated to Athene who gives grace to work.

§ 6.206  ANTIPATER OF SIDON
To Aphrodite the Heavenly we girl companions, all of one age, give these gifts: Bitinna these sandals, a comfort to her feet, the pretty work of skilled shoemakers, Philaenis the net, dyed with sea-purple, that confined her straying hair, Anticlea her fan, lovely Heraclea her veil, fine as a spider's web, and the daughter of Aristotle, who bears her father's name, her coiled snake, the gold ornament of her slender ankles.

§ 6.207  ARCHIAS
Bitinna gives these sandals, Philaenis the purple net that confines her vagrant hair, fair-haired Anticlea her fan in which lurks bastard wind, her defence against the violent heat, Heraclea this fine veil for her face, wrought like unto a spider's web, and Aristoteleia, who bears her father's name, the snake, her beautiful anklet. Girls all of one age, dwelling in low-lying Naucratis, they offer these rich gifts to thee, Aphrodite, who presidest over weddings.

§ 6.208  ANTIPATER
(It would seem on a Picture.) She who brings the shoes is Menecratis, she with the cloak is Phemonoe, and Praxo she who holds the goblet. The temple and statue are Aphrodite's. The offering is their joint one and it is the work of Aristomachus of the Strymonian land. They were all free-born courtesans, but chancing on more temperate love are now each the wife of one.

§ 6.209  ANTIPATER
Bithynian Cythere dedicated me to thee, Cypris, according to her vow, the marble image of thy form. But do thou, as is thy wont, give her a great gift in return for this little one; she asks no more than that her husband may be of one heart and soul with her.

§ 6.210  PHILETAS OF SAMOS
Now past her fiftieth year doth amorous Nicias hang in the fane of Cypris her sandals, locks of her uncoiled hair, her bronze mirror that lacketh not accuracy, her precious zone, and the things of which a man may not speak. But here you see the whole pageant of Cypris.

§ 6.211  LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM
Calliclea, her wish having been granted, dedicates in thy porch, true Cypris, the silver statuette of Love, her anklet, the purple caul of her Lesbian hair, her pale-blue bosom-band, her bronze mirror, and the broad box-wood comb that gathered in her locks.

§ 6.212  SIMONIDES
Pray, Cyton, that the god, the son of Leto, who presides over the market-place, scene of beautiful dances, may take joy in thy gifts as great as is the praise thou receivest by the gifts to thee of crowns loaded with gratitude from strangers and citizens of Corinth.

§ 6.213  SIMONIDES
Six and fifty bulls and as many tripods didst thou win, Simonides, ere thou didst dedicate this tablet. Even so many times, after teaching thy odes to the delightsome chorus of men, didst thou mount the splendid chariot of glorious victory.

§ 6.214  SIMONIDES
I say that Gelo, Hiero, Polyzelus, and Thrasybulus, the sons of Dinomenes, dedicated the tripod weighing fifty talents and six hundred litrae of Damaretian gold, a tithe of the tithe.

§ 6.215  SIMONIDES
These shields, won from their foes the Medes, the sailors of Diodorus dedicated to Leto in memory of the sea-fight.

§ 6.216  SIMONIDES
Sosus and Soso dedicated this (tripod) in thanks for being so saved, Sosus because he was so saved and Soso because Sosus was so saved.

§ 6.217  SIMONIDES
The priest of Rhea, when taking shelter from the winter snow-storm he entered the lonely cave, had just wiped the snow off his hair, when following on his steps came a lion, devourer of cattle, into the hollow way. But he with outspread hand beat the great tambour he held and the whole cave rang with the sound. Nor did that woodland beast dare to support the holy boom of Cybele, but rushed straight up the forest-clad hill, in dread of the half-girlish servant of the goddess, who hath dedicated to her these robes and this his yellow hair.

§ 6.218  ALCAEUS
A begging eunuch priest of Cybele was wandering through the upland forests of Ida, and there met him a huge lion, its hungry throat dreadfully gaping as though to devour him. Then in fear of the death that faced him in its ravening jaws, he beat his tambour from the holy grove. The lion shut its murderous mouth, and as if itself full of divine frenzy, began to toss and whirl its mane about its neck. But he thus escaping a dreadful death dedicated to Rhea the beast that had taught itself her dance.

§ 6.219  ANTIPATER
Goaded by the fury of the dreadful goddess, tossing his locks in wild frenzy, clothed in woman's raiment with well-plaited tresses and a dainty netted hair-caul, a eunuch once took shelter in a mountain cavern, driven by the numbing snow of Zeus. But behind him rushed in unshivering a lion, slayer of bulls, returning to his den in the evening, who looking on the man, snuffing in his shapely nostrils the smell of human flesh, stood still on his sturdy feet, but rolling his eyes roared loudly from his greedy jaws. The cave, his den, thunders around him and the wooded peak that mounts nigh to the clouds echoes loud. But the priest startled by the deep voice felt all his stirred spirit broken in his breast. Yet he uttered from his lips the piercing shriek they use, and tossed his whirling locks, and holding up his great tambour, the revolving instrument of Olympian Rhea, he beat it, and it was the saviour of his life; for the lion hearing the unaccustomed hollow boom of the bull's hide was afraid and took to flight. See how all-wise necessity taught a means of escape from death!

§ 6.220  DIOSCORIDES
Chaste Atys, the gelded servant of Cybele, in frenzy giving his wild hair to the wind, wished to reach Sardis from Phrygian Pessinus; but when the dark of evening fell upon him in his course, the fierce fervour of his bitter ecstasy was cooled and he took shelter in a descending cavern, turning aside a little from the road. But a lion came swiftly on his track, a terror to brave men and to him an inexpressible woe. He stood speechless from fear and by some divine inspiration put his hand to his sounding tambour. At its deep roar the most courageous of beasts ran off quicker than a deer, unable to bear the deep note in its ears, and he cried out, "Great Mother, by the banks of the Sangarias I dedicate to thee, in thanks for my life, my holy thalame and this noisy instrument that caused the lion to fly."

§ 6.221  LEONIDAS
Through the wintry night and driving hail, flying from the snow and bitter frost, a lion old and solitary and indeed stricken in all its limbs came to the fold of the goat-herds who haunt the cliffs. They, no longer anxious for their goats, but for themselves, sat calling on Zeus the Saviour. But the beast, the beast of the night, waiting till the storm was past, went away from the fold without hurting man or beast. To Pan the god of the mountain peaks they dedicated on this thick-stemmed oak this well-limned picture of what befel them.

§ 6.222  THEODORIDAS
The sea disturbed under the rays of Orion washed ashore this thousand-footed scolopendra on the rocks of Iapygia, and the masters of the deep-laden twenty-oared galleys dedicated to the gods this vast rib of the hideous monster.

§ 6.223  ANTIPATER
This mutilated body of a sea-wandering scolopendra eight fathoms long, all foul with foam and torn by the rocks, was found lying on this sandy beach by Hermonax when, in pursuit of his calling as a fisherman, he was drawing in his haul of fish, and having found it he hung it up as a gift to Ino and her son Palaemon, offering to the deities of the sea a monster of the sea.

§ 6.224  THEODORIDAS
Shell, labyrinth of the deep, tell me who found thee, a booty won from the gray sea, and dedicated thee here. — Dionysius son of Protarchus dedicated me as a plaything for the Nymphs of the grotto. I am a gift from the holy Pelorian coast, and the waves of the winding channel cast me ashore to be the plaything of the sleek Nymphs of the grotto.

§ 6.225  NICAENETUS
Heroines of the Libyans, girt with tufted goat-skins, who haunt this mountain chain, daughters of the gods, accept from Philetis these consecrated sheaves and fresh garlands of straw, the full tithe of his threshing; but even so, all hail to ye, Heroines, sovereign ladies of the Libyans.

§ 6.226  LEONIDAS
This is Clito's little cottage, this his little strip of land to sow, and the scanty vineyard hard by, this is his patch of brushwood, but here Clito passed eighty years.

§ 6.227  CRINAGORAS OF MYTILENE
This silver pen-nib, with its newly polished holder, nicely moulded with two easily dividing tips, running glib with even flow over the rapidly written page, Crinagoras sends you, Proclus, for your birthday, a little token of great affection, which will sympathize with your newly acquired readiness in learning.

§ 6.228  ADDAEUS OF MACEDON
Alcon did not lead to the bloody axe his labouring ox worn out by the furrows and old age, for he reverenced it for its service; and now somewhere in the deep meadow grass it lows rejoicing in its release from the plough.

§ 6.229  CRINAGORAS
This quill of a crooked-beaked eagle, sharpened to a point by the steel and dyed with purple lacquer, which skilfully removes with its gentle pick any fragments that may be concealed in the teeth after dinner, Crinagoras, your devoted friend, sends you, Lucius, a little token of no small affection, just a mere convivial gift.

§ 6.230  QUINTUS
To thee, Phoebus of the cape, who rulest this fringe of the Bithynian land near the beach, did Damis the fisherman who ever rests his horn on the sand give this well protected trumpet-shell with its natural spikes, a humble present from a pious heart. The old man prays to thee that he may see death without disease.

§ 6.231  PHILIPPUS
Queen of black-soiled Egypt, goddess with the linen robe, come to my well-appointed sacrifice. On the wood ashes a crumbling cake is laid for thee and there is a white pair of water-haunting geese, and powdery nard round many-grained figs, and wrinkled raisins and sweet-scented frankincense. But if, O queen, thou savest Damis from poverty, as thou didst from the deep, he will sacrifice a kid with gilded horns.

§ 6.232  CRINAGORAS
Philoxenides offers a modest feast to Pan with the sheperd's crook, and Priapus with the beautiful horns. There are grapes ripe for wine-making, and fragments of the pomegranate easily split, and the yellow marrow of the pine cone, and almonds afraid of being cracked, and the bees' ambrosia, and shortcakes of sesame, and relishing heads of garlic and pears with shining pips, (?) abundant little diversions for the stomach of the wine-drinker.

§ 6.233  MAECIUS
The bit that rattles in the teeth, the constraining muzzle pierced on both sides, the well-sewn curbstrap that presses on the jaw, also this correcting whip which urges to violent speed, the crooked biting "epipselion," the bloody pricks of the spur and the scraping saw-like curry-comb iron-bound — these, Isthmian Poseidon, who delightest in the roar of the waves on both shores, are the gifts thou hast from Stratius.

§ 6.234  ERYCIUS
The long-haired priest of Rhea, the newly gelded, the dancer from Lydian Tmolus whose shriek is heard afar, dedicates, now he rests from his frenzy, to the solemn Mother who dwells by the banks of Sangarius these tambourines, his scourge armed with bones, these noisy brazen cymbals, and a scented lock of his hair.

§ 6.235  THALLUS
Caesar, offspring of the unconquered race of Romulus, joy of the farthest East and West, we sing thy divine birth, and round the altars pour glad libations to the gods. But mayest thou, treading in thy grandsire's steps, abide with us, even as we pray, for many years.

§ 6.236  PHILIPPUS See how the brazen beaks, voyage-loving weapons of ships, here preserved as relics of the fight at Actium, shelter, like a hive, the waxy gift of the bees, weighted all round by the humming swarm. Beneficent indeed is the righteous rule of Caesar; he hath taught the arms of the enemy to bear the fruits of peace, not war.

§ 6.237  ANTISTIUS
The priest of Rhea dedicated to the mountain-Mother of the gods this raiment and these locks owing to an adventure such as this. As he was walking alone in the wood a savage lion met him and a struggle for his life was imminent. But the goddess put it in his mind to beat his tambourine and he made the ravening brute take flight, dreading the awful din. For this reason his locks hang from the whistling branches.

§ 6.238  APOLLONIDAS
I, old Euphron, farm no many-furrowed plain or vineyard rich in wine, but I plough a little shallow soil just scraped by the share, and I get but the juice that Hows from a few grapes. From my little my gift can be but little, but if, kind god, thou givest me more, thou shalt have the first fruits of my plenty likewise.

§ 6.239  APOLLONIDAS
Old Cliton, the bee-keeper, cut me out, the sweet harvest of his swarm, and instead of a victim from the herd offers me, pressing much honey from the ambrosial combs of the spring, the gift of his unshepherded far-flying flock. But make his swarm-bearing company innumerable and fill full the wax-built cells with sweetest nectar.

§ 6.210  PHILIPPUS
Archer daughter of Zeus and Leto, Artemis, watcher of wild creatures, who dwellest in the recesses of the hills, this very day send the hated sickness from our best of emperors forth even unto the Hyperboreans. For Philippus will offer o'er thy altars smoke of frankincense, sacrificing a mountain boar.

§ 6.241  ANTIPATER
I, the helm, am graced by two gifts. I am lovely to look on for friends and a terror to foes. Piso hath me from Pylaemenes. No other helmet was fit to sit on his head, no other head fit to wear me.

§ 6.242  CRINAGORAS
On the long-desired morn we offer this sacrifice to Zeus Teleius and Artemis who soothes the pangs of child-bed. For to them did my brother while yet beardless vow to offer the first spring-bloom that clothes the cheeks of young men. Accept it, ye gods, and from this season of his tender beard lead Eucleides straight on to the season of grey hairs.

§ 6.243  DIODORUS
"Hera, who watchest over Samos and whose is Imbrasus, accept, gracious goddess, this birthday sacrifice, these heifer victims, dearest of all to thee, if we priests know the law of the blessed gods." Thus Maximus prayed as he poured the libation, and she granted his prayer without fail, nor did the spinning Fates grudge it.

§ 6.244  CRINAGORAS
Hera, mother of the Ilithyiae, and thou, Hera Perfectress, and Zeus, the common father of all who are born, hear my prayer and grant that gentle pangs may come to Antonia in the tender hands of Hepione, so that her husband may rejoice and her mother and her mother-in-law. Her womb bears the blood of great houses.

§ 6.245  DIODORUS
Diogenes, when he saw his yard-arm broken by the blast of Boreas, as the tempest lashed the Carpathian sea by night, vowed, if he escaped death, to hang me, this little cloak, in thy holy propylon, Boeotian Cabirus, in memory of that stormy voyage; and I pray thee keep poverty too from his door.

§ 6.246  PHILODEMUS or ARGENTARIUS
Charmus from his Isthmian victory dedicates in thy porch, Poseidon, his spurs that urge the horse on its way, the muzzle that fits on its nose, its necklace of teeth, and his willow wand, also the comb that drags the horse's hair, the whip for its flanks, rough mother of smacking blows. Accept these gifts, god of the steel-blue locks, and crown the son of Lychnis in the great Olympian contest too.

§ 6.247  PHILIPPUS
Pallantian Maid who lovest the loom, Aesione, now bowed with age, suspends to thee the gift of her poverty, her weaving-comb that sings like the early-chattering swallows, with the prongs of which weaver Pallas smooths the thread, her comb for dressing the wool, her spindle worn by the fingers, swimming (?) with the twirling thread, and her wicker basket which the wool dressed by her teeth once filled.

§ 6.248  ARGENTARIUS
Rest here, consecrated to Cypris henceforth, my tipsy flagon, sister of the sweet wine-cup, devotee of Bacchus, liquid-voiced, boon-companion in the "equal feast," slim-necked daughter of our dining club, self-taught minister of men, sweetest confidant of lovers, ever ready to serve at the banquet; rest here, a lordly gift from Marcus who sang thy praises, thou tippler, when he dedicated thee, the old companion of his wanderings.

§ 6.249  ANTIPATER
This wax-robed candle, the rush lamp of Cronos, formed of the pith held together by a strip of thin bark, Antipater brings as a present to Piso; if he lights me and prays, I will give a light signifying that the god hears.

§ 6.250  ANTIPHILUS
My circumstances are slender, madam, but I maintain that he who is yours from his heart looks down on the wealth of many. But accept this garment like the bright purple of a deep-piled carpet soft as moss, and this pink wool, and spikenard for your dark hair contained in a gray glass bottle, so that the tunic may cover you, the woollen work may testify to the skill of your hands, and the sweet vapour may pervade your hair.

§ 6.251  PHILIPPUS
Phoebus, who dwellest on the sheer height of Leucas visible from afar to sailors, and washed by the Ionian sea, accept from the seamen a feast of barley cake kneaded by the hand, and a libation mixed in a small cup, the poor light too of this lamp, imbibed by its half-satisfied mouth from a parsimonious oil-flask. In return for which be kind to us, and send to our sails a favourable breeze carrying us with it to the shore of Actium.

§ 6.252  ANTIPHILUS
I am a quince of last year kept fresh in my young skin, unspotted, unwrinkled, as downy as newly-born ones, still attached to my leafy stalk, a rare gift in the winter season; but for such as thou, my queen, even the cold and snow bear fruit.

§ 6.253  CRINAGORAS
Caves of the Nymphs with many springs, from which such abundance of water trickles down this winding slope; and thou, echoing shrine of Pan crowned with pine-leaves, the home that is his at the foot of the woodland rock; ye stumps of the ancient juniper, holy to hunters, and thou, stone-heap raised in Hermes' honour, be gracious unto us and accept the spoil of fortunate Sosander's swift chase of the deer.

§ 6.254  MYRINUS
When Time was about to drag down to Hades pathic Statyllius, the effeminate old stump of Aphrodite, he dedicated in the porch of Priapus his light summer dresses dyed in scarlet and crimson, his false hair greasy with spikenard, his white shoes that shone on his shapely ankles, the chest in which reposed his bombasine frippery, and his flute that breathed sweet music in the revels of the harlot tribe.

§ 6.255  ERYCIUS
Saon of Ambracia, the herdsman, broke off this his straying bull's mutilated horn two cubits long, when, searching for him on the hill-side and leafy gullies, he spied him on the river-bank cooling his feet and sides. The bull rushed straight at him from one side, but he with his club knocked off his curving horn, and put it up on this wild pear-tree by the byre, musical with the lowing of the herd.

§ 6.256  ANTIPATER The thick bull neck, the iron shoulders like Atlas, the hair and reverend beard like Heracles, and the lion-eyes of the Milesian giant not even Olympian Zeus saw without trembling, when Nicophon won the men's boxing contest in the Olympian games.

§ 6.257  ANTIPHILUS
Who filled me with the gifts of Demeter, the amphora fashioned for Bacchus, the recipient of Adriatic wine sweet as nectar? Why should he grudge me to Bacchus, or what scarcity was there of proper vessels for corn? He insulted both divinities; Bacchus has been robbed, and Demeter does not receive Methe into her society.

§ 6.258  ADDAEUS
This ewe, Demeter, who presidest over the furrows, and this hornless heifer, and the round cake in a basket, upon this threshing-floor on which he winnowed a huge pile of sheaves and saw a goodly harvest, doth Crethon consecrate to thee, Lady of the many heaps. Every year make his field rich in wheat and barley.

§ 6.259  PHILIPPUS
A. Who set thee up, the beardless Hermes, by the starting point of the course? B. Hermogenes. A. Who'se son? B. Daimenes'. A. From whence? B. From Antioch. A. Why did he honour thee? B. As his helper in the race. A. What race? B. At Isthmus and Nemea. A. He ran there, then? B. Yes, and came in first. A. Whom did he beat? B. Nine other boys, and he flew as if he had my feet.

§ 6.260  GEMINUS
Phryne dedicated to the Thespians the winged Love beautifully wrought, the price of her favours. The work is the gift of Cypris, a gift to envy, with which no fault can be found, and Love was a fitting payment for both. I praise for two forms of art the man who, giving a god to others, had a more perfect god in his soul.

§ 6.261  CRINAGORAS
Son of Simon, since this is your birthday, Crinagoras sends me with the rejoicings of his heart as a gift to the house of his sweetest friend. I am a bronze flask, just like silver, of Indian workmanship

§ 6.262  LEONIDAS
The beast which wrought havoc on the flock and the cattle-pen and the herdsmen, and feared not the loud noise of the dogs, Eualces the Cretan slew while shepherding his flock at night, and hung on this pine.

§ 6.263  LEONIDAS
Sosus, rich in cattle, flenched this tawny lion, which he slew with his spear just as it had begun to devour the suckling calf, nor went it back from the sheepfold to the wood. To the calf the brute transpierced paid blood for blood, and sorrowful to it was the murder it wrought.

§ 6.264  MNASALCAS
I am the shield of Alexander, Phylleus' son, and hang here a holy gift to golden-haired Apollo. My edge is old and war-worn, old and worn is my boss, but I shine by the valour I attained going forth to the battle with the bravest of men, him who dedicated me. From the day of my birth up I have remained unconquered.

§ 6.265  NOSSIS
Hera revered, who oft descending from heaven lookest on thy Lacinian shrine fragrant with frankincense, accept the linen garment which Theophilis, daughter of Cleocha, wove for thee with her noble daughter Nossis.

§ 6.266  HEGESIPPUS
This Artemis in the cross-ways did Hagelochia, the daughter of Damaretus, erect while still a virgin in her father's house; for the goddess herself appeared to her, by the weft of her loom, like a flame of fire.

§ 6.267  DIOTIMUS
Stand here, Artemis the Saviour, with thy torch on the land of Pollis, and give thy delightful light to him and to his children. The task is easy; for no feeble knowledge hath he from Zeus of the unerring scales of Justice. And, Artemis, let the Graces too race over this grove, treading on the flowers with their light sandals.

§ 6.268  MNASALCAS
This image, Holy Artemis, Cleonymus set up to thee. Bestow thy blessing on this upland chase when thy feet, our lady, tread the forest-clad mountain, as thou followest eagerly the dreadful panting of thy pack.

§ 6.269  Said to be by SAPPHO
Children, though I am a dumb stone, if any ask, then I answer clearly, having set down at my feet the words I am never weary of speaking: "Arista, daughter of Hermoclides the son of Sauneus, dedicated me to Artemis Aethopia. Thy ministrant is she, sovereign lady of women; rejoice in this her gift of herself, and be willing to glorify our race."

§ 6.270  NICIAS
The head-kerchief and water-blue veil of Amphareta rest on thy head, Ilithyia; for them she vowed to thee when she prayed thee to keep dreadful death far away from her in her labour.

§ 6.271  PHAEDIMUS
Artemis, the son of Cichesias dedicated the shoes to thee, and Themistodice the simple folds of her gown, because that coming in gentle guise without thy bow thou didst hold thy two hands over her in her labour. But Artemis, vouchsafe to see this baby boy of Leon's grow great and strong.

§ 6.272  PERSES
Her zone and flowered frock, and the band that clasps her breasts tight, did Timaessa dedicate, Artemis, to thee, when in the tenth month she was freed from the burden and pain of difficult travail.

§ 6.273  Like NOSSIS
Artemis, lady of Delos and lovely Ortygia, lay by thy stainless bow in the bosom of the Graces, wash thee clean in Inopus, and come to Locri to deliver Alcetis from the hard pangs of childbirth.

§ 6.274  PERSES
Goddess, saviour of children, blest Ilithyia, receive and keep as thy fee for delivering Tisis, who well remembers, from her pangs, this bridal brooch and the diadem from her glossy hair.

§ 6.275  NOSSIS
With joy, methinks, Aphrodite will receive this offering from Symaetha, the caul that bound her hair; for it is delicately wrought and hath a certain sweet smell of nectar, that nectar with which she, too, anoints lovely Adonis.

§ 6.276  ANTIPATER
Hippe, the maiden, has put up her abundant curly hair, brushing it from her perfumed temples, for the solemn time when she must wed has come, and I the snood that used to rest there require in my wearer the grace of virginity. But, Artemis, in thy lovingkindness grant to Lycomedes' child, who has bidden farewell to her knuckle-bones, both a husband and children.

§ 6.277  DAMAGETUS
Artemis, who wieldest the bow and the arrows of might, by thy fragrant temple hath Arsinoe, the maiden daughter of Ptolemy, left this lock of her own hair, cutting it from her lovely tresses.

§ 6.278  RHIANUS
Gorgus, son of Asclepiades, dedicates to Phoebus the fair this fair lock, a gift from his lovely head. But, Delphinian Phoebus, be gracious to the boy, and stablish him in good fortune till his hair be grey.

§ 6.279  EUPHORION
When Eudoxus first shore his beautiful hair, he gave to Phoebus the glory of his boyhood; and now vouchsafe, O Far-shooter, that instead of these tresses the ivy of Acharnae may ever rest on his head as he grows.

§ 6.280  Anonymous
Timareta, the daughter of Timaretus, before her wedding, hath dedicated to thee, Artemis of the lake, her tambourine and her pretty ball, and the caul that kept up her hair, and her dolls, too, and their dresses; a virgin's gift, as is fit, to virgin Dian. But, daughter of Leto, hold thy hand over the girl, and purely keep her in her purity.

§ 6.281  LEONIDAS
Great Mother, who watchest over Dindyma and the hills of Burnt Phrygia, bring, O sovereign lady, little Aristodike, Silene's daughter, up to an age ripe for marriage and the hymn of Hymen, the due end of girlhood. For this, dancing at many a festival held in thy courts and before thy altar, she tossed this way and that her virgin hair.

§ 6.282  THEODORUS
To thee, Hermes, did Calliteles suspend his felt hat made of well-carded sheep's wool, his double pin, his strigil, his unstrung bow, his worn chlamys soaked with sweat, his arrows, and the ball he never tired of throwing. Accept, I pray thee, friend of youth, these gifts, the souvenirs of a well-conducted adolescence.

§ 6.283  Anonymous
She who formerly boasted of her wealthy lovers and never bowed the knee to Nemesis, the dread goddess, now weaves on a poor loom cloth she is paid for. Late in the day hath Athene despoiled Cypris.

§ 6.284  Anonymous
Philaenion, by sleeping secretly in Agamedes' bosom, wrought for herself the grey robe. Cypris herself was the weaver; but may women's well-spun thread and spindles lie idle in the work-basket.

§ 6.285  By NICARCHUS, it would seem Nicarete, who formerly was in the service of Athene's shuttle, and stretched out many a warp on the loom, made in honour of Cypris a bonfire in front of her house of her work-basket and bobbins and her other gear, crying, "Away with ye, starving work of wretched women, that have power to waste away the bloom of youth." Instead the girl chose garlands and the lyre, and a gay life spent in revel and festivity. "Cypris," she said, "I will pay thee tithe of all my gains. Give me work and take from it thy due."

§ 6.286  LEONIDAS
The right end of the border, measuring a span and a whole palm, is the work of Bitto; the other extremity was added by Antianira, while Bitie worked the girls and the Maeander in the middle. Artemis, fairest of the daughters of Jove, take to thy heart this piece of woven work which the three vied in making.

§ 6.287  ANTIPATER
Artemis, fairest of virgins, sovereign lady of women, we three wove this border for thee. Bitie wrought the dancing girls and the crooked stream of winding Maeander. Blonde Antianira devised the decoration that lies on the left side of the river, and Bittion that on the right, measuring a span and a palm.

§ 6.288  LEONIDAS
We, the industrious daughters of Lycomedes, Atheno, Melitea, Phinto, and Glenis, offer from the tithe of our work, as a gift to please thee, a little part of the little we have in our poverty, the laborious spindle, the weaving-comb that passes between the threads of the warp, sweet songster of the loom, our round spools, our . . . ., and our heavy weaving-blade. Fill our hands, Athene, ever after, and make us rich in meal instead of poor in meal.

§ 6.289  LEONIDAS
Autonoma, Melite, and Boiscion, the three Cretan daughters of Philolaides and Nico, dedicated in this temple, O stranger, as a gift to Athene of the spool on ceasing from the labours of Athene, the first her thread-making ever-twirling spindle, the second her wool-basket that loves the night, and the third her weaving-comb, the industrious creator of raiment, that watched over the bed of Penelope.

§ 6.290  DIOSCORIDES
With sweetest Urania did Parmenis leave her fan, the ever gentle ministrant of soft breezes, a tithe from her bed; but now the goddess averts from her by tender zephyrs the heavy heat of the sun.

§ 6.291  ANTIPATER
Bacchylis, the sponge of the cups of Bacchus, once when she fell sick, addressed Demeter something in this way. "If I escape from the wave of this pernicious fever, for the space of a hundred suns I will drink but fresh spring water and avoid Bacchus and wine." But when she was quit of her illness, on the very first day she devised this dodge. She took a sieve, and looking through its close meshes, saw even more than a hundred suns.

§ 6.292  HEDYLUS
The snood and purple vest, and the Laconian robes, and the gold piping for the tunic, all fell to (?) Niconoe, for the girl was an ambrosial blossom of the Loves and Graces. Therefore to Priapus, who was judge in the beauty-contest, she dedicates the fawn-skin and this golden jug.

§ 6.293  LEONIDAS
The staff and these slippers hang here, Cypris, the spoils won from Sochares the cynic; his grimy oil-flask, too, and the remains of his wallet all in holes, stuffed full of ancient wisdom. They were dedicated here, on thy begarlanded porch, by comely Rhodon, when he caught the all-wise greybeard.

§ 6.294  PHANIAS
Callon, his limbs fettered by senile fatigue, dedicates to Hermes the Lord these tokens of his career as a schoolmaster: the staff that guided his feet, his tawse, and the fennel-rod that lay ever ready to his hand to tap little boys with on the head, his lithe whistling bull's pizzle, his one-soled slipper, and the skull-cap of his hairless pate.

§ 6.295  PHANIAS
Ascondas, when he came in for an exciseman's lickerish sop, hung up here to the Muses the implements of his penury: his penknife, the sponge he used to line to wipe his Cnidian pens, the ruler for marking off the margins, his paper-weight that marks the place (?), his ink-horn, his compasses that draw circles, his pumice for smoothing, and his blue spectacles (?) that give sweet light.

§ 6.296  LEONIDAS
Sosippus gives to Hermes, now that he has outswum the greater part of his strength and the feebleness of old age fetters him, his securely fixed trap, his cane springes, his nets, this curved hareclub, his quiver, this quail-call, and the well-woven net for throwing over wild fowl.

§ 6.297  PHANIAS
Alcimus hung up in Athene's porch, when he found a treasure (for otherwise his often-bent back would perhaps have gone down curved to Hades), his toothless rake, a piece of his noisy hoe wanting its olive-wood handle, his . . . ., his mallet that destroys the clods, his one-pronged pickaxe, his rake, and his sewn baskets for carrying earth.

§ 6.298  LEONIDAS
A wallet, a hard untanned goat-skin, this walking-stick, an oil-flask never scraped clean, a dog-skin purse without a copper in it, and the hat, the covering of his impious head, these are the spoils of Sochares that Famine hung on a tamarisk bush when he died.

§ 6.299  PHANIAS
To thee, wayside Hermes, I offer this portion of a noble cluster of grapes, this piece of a rich cake from the oven, this black fig, this soft olive that does not hurt the gums, some scrapings of round cheeses, some Cretan meal, a heap of crumbling . . . ., and an after-dinner glass of wine. Let Cypris, my goddess, enjoy them too, and I promise to sacrifice to you both on the beach a white-footed kid.

§ 6.300  LEONIDAS
Lathrian goddess, accept these offerings from Leonidas the wanderer, the pauper, the flour-less: rich barley-cakes, olives easy to store, and this green fig from the tree. Take, too, lady, these five grapes picked from a rich cluster, and this libation of the dregs of the cup. But if, as thou hast saved me from sickness so thou savest me from hateful penury, await a sacrifice of a kid.

§ 6.301  CALLIMACHUS
Eudemus dedicated to the Samothracian gods his salt-cellar, by eating much plain salt out of which he escaped dreadful storms of debts. "O great gods," he said, "according to my vow I dedicate this here, saved from the brine."

§ 6.302  LEONIDAS
Out of my hut, ye mice that love the dark! Leonidas' poor meal-tub has not wherewith to feed mice. The old man is contented if he has salt and two barley-cakes. This is the life I have learnt to acquiesce in from my fathers. So why dost thou dig for treasure in that corner, thou glutton, where thou shalt not taste even of the leavings of my dinner? Haste and be off to other houses (here is but scanty fare), where thou shalt win greater store.

§ 6.303  ARISTON
Mice, if you have come for bread, go to some other corner (my hut is ill-supplied), where ye shall nibble fat cheese and dried figs, and get a plentiful dinner from the scraps. But if ye sharpen your teeth again on my books ye shall suffer for it and find that ye come to no pleasant banquet.

§ 6.304  PHANIAS
Fisher of the beach, come from the rock on to the dry land and begin the day well with this early buyer. If you have caught in your weel black-tails or some mormyre, or wrasse, or sparus, or small fry, you will call me lucky, who prefer not flesh but the fruit of the sea to make me forget I am munching a dry crust. But if you bring me bony chalcides or some thrissa, good-bye and better luck! I have not got a throat made of stone.

§ 6.305  LEONIDAS
To Gluttony and Voracity, the deities who love well flavoured sauces, did Dorieus who stinks of . . . dedicate these enormous Larissean boiling cauldrons, the pots and the wide-gaping cup, the well-wrought curved flesh-hook, the cheese-scraper, and the soup-stirrer. Gluttony, receive these evil gifts of an evil giver, and never grant him temperance.

§ 6.306  ARISTON
Spinther, the cook, when he shook oft the burden of slavery, gave these tokens of his calling to Hermes: his pipkin, this flesh-hook, his highly-curved pork-spit (?), the stirrer for soup, his feather fan, and his bronze cauldron, together with his axe and slaughtering-knife, his soup-ladle beside the spits, his sponge for wiping, resting beneath the strong chopper, this two-headed pestle, and with it the stone mortar and the trough for holding meat.

§ 6.307  PHANIAS
Eugethes of Lapithe cast away with scorn his mirror, his sheet that loves hair, a fragment of his shaving-bowl, his reed scraper, his scissors that have deserted their work, and his pointed nail-file. He cast away, too, his scissors, razors, and barber's chair, and leaving his shop ran prancing off to Epicurus to be a garden-student. There he listened as a donkey listens to the lyre, and he would have died of hunger if he had not thought better of it and run home.

§ 6.308  ASCLEPIADES
Connarus, on winning the boys' contest, since he wrote such a pretty hand, received eighty knucklebones, and in gratitude to the Muses he hung me up here, the comic mask of old Chares, amid the applause of the boys.

§ 6.309  LEONIDAS
To Hermes Philocles here hangs up these toys of his boyhood: his noiseless ball, this lively boxwood rattle, his knuckle-bones he had such a mania for, and his spinning-top.

§ 6.310  CALLIMACHUS
Simos, son of Miccus, when he gave me to the Muses, prayed for learning, and they gave it him like Glaucus, a great gift in return for a little. hang dedicated here (in the school), the tragic mask of Dionysus, yawning twice as much as the Samian's letter as I listen to the boys, and they go on saying "My hair is holy," telling me my own dream.

§ 6.311  CALLIMACHUS
Tell, stranger, that I, the mask of Pamphilus, am dedicated here as a truly comic witness of the victory of Agoranax the Rhodian in the theatre. I am not like Pamphilus, bitten by love, but one side of me is wrinkled like a roast fig and the colour of Isis' lamps.

§ 6.312  ANYTE
The children, billy-goat, have put purple reins on you and a muzzle on your bearded face, and they train you to race like a horse round the god's temple that he may look on their childish joy.

§ 6.313  BACCHYLIDES
Famous daughter of Pallas, holy Victory, look ever with good will on the beauteous chorus of the Carthaeans, and crown Ceian Bacchylides with many wreaths at the sports of the Muses.

§ 6.314  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
Odysseus, his long road finished, brought thee this cloak and robe, Penelope. (314-320 can be read backwards)

§ 6.315  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
In thanks for my help Ophelion painted me the
goat-footed Pan, the friend of Bacchus and son of Arcadian Hermes.

§ 6.316  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
Ophelion painted the tears of dripping Aerope, the remains of the impious feast and the requital.

§ 6.317  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
Praxiteles carved of Parian marble Danae and the draped Nymphs, but me, Pan, he carved of Pentelic marble.

§ 6.318  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
We young men, after sacrificing a calf to Aphrodite, the Nurser of youth, conduct the brides with joy from their chambers.

§ 6.319  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
By the light of burning torches in her father's spacious house I received the maiden from the hands of Cypris.

§ 6.320  NICODEMUS OF HERACLEA
Hail, lovely Ascania, and the golden orgies of Bacchus, and the chief of his initiated.

§ 6.321  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
On thy birthday, Caesar, the Egyptian Muse of Leonidas offers thee these lines. The offering of Calliope is ever smokeless; but next year, if thou wilt, she will offer thee a larger sacrifice.

§ 6.322  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
Behold again the work of Leonidas' flourishing Muse, this playful distich, neat and well expressed. This will be a lovely plaything for Marcus at the Saturnalia, and at banquets, and among lovers of the Muses.

§ 6.323  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
(Not Isopsephon, but can be read backwards) Oedipus was the brother of his children and his mother's husband, and blinded himself by his own hands.

§ 6.324  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
Who offered to me, Ares the sacker of cities, rich cakes, and grapes, and roses? Let them offer these to the Nymphs, but I, bold Ares, accept not bloodless sacrifices on my altars.

§ 6.325  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
One sends you, Eupolis, birthday gifts from the hunting-net, another from the air, a third from the sea. From me accept a line of my Muse which will survive for ever, a token of friendship and of learned skill.

§ 6.326  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
Nicis the Libyan, son of Lysimachus, dedicates his Cretan quiver and curved bow to thee, Artemis; for he had exhausted the arrows that filled the belly of the quiver by shooting at does and dappled hinds.

§ 6.327  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
One verse here gives the same figures as the other, not a distich the same as a distich, for I no longer care to be lengthy.

§ 6.328  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
Accept from me, Caesar, the third volume of my thankful gift to thee, this token of my skill in making "isopsepha," so that the Nile may despatch through Greece to thy land this most musical gift.

§ 6.329  LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA
One will send crystal, another silver, a third topazes, rich birthday gifts. But I, look, having merely made two "isopsephon" distiches for Agrippina, am content with this my gift that envy shall not damage.

§ 6.330  AESCHINES THE ORATOR
Despairing of human art, and placing all my hope in the Divinity, I left Athens, mother of beautiful children, and was cured in three months, Asclepius, by coming to thy grove, of an ulcer on my head that had continued for a year.

§ 6.331  GAETULICUS
Alcon, seeing his child in the coils of a murderous serpent, bent his bow with trembling hand; yet he did not miss the monster, but the arrow pierced its jaws just a little above where the infant was. Relieved of his fear, he dedicated on this tree his quiver, the token of good luck and good aim.

§ 6.332  HADRIAN
To Casian Zeus did Trajan, the descendant of Aeneas, dedicate these ornaments, the king of men to the king of gods: two curiously fashioned cups and the horn of a urus mounted in shining gold, selected from his first booty when, tirelessly fighting, he had overthrown with his spear the insolent Getae. But, Lord of the black clouds, entrust to him, too, the glorious accomplishment of this Persian war, that thy heart's joy may be doubled as thou lookest on the spoils of both foes, the Getae and the Arsacidae.

§ 6.333  MARCUS ARGENTARIUS
(A Love Epigram misplaced) Thrice hast thou sneezed, dear lamp! Is it, perchance, to tell me that delightful Antigone is coming to my chamber? For if, my lord, this be true, thou shalt stand by the tripod, like Apollo, and prophesy to men.

§ 6.334  LEONIDAS
Caves and holy hill of the Nymphs, and springs at the rock's foot, and thou pine that standest by the water; thou square Hermes, son of Maia, guardian of the sheep, and thou, Pan, lord of the peak where the goats pasture, graciously receive these cakes and the cup full of wine, the gifts of Neoptolemus of the race of Aeacus.

§ 6.335  ANTIPATER I, the causia, once a serviceable head-dress for the Macedonians, a covering in the snow-storm and a helmet in war, thirsting to drink thy sweat, brave Piso, have come from my Macedonian land to thy Italian brows. But receive me kindly; may-be the felt that once routed the Persians will help thee, too, to subdue the Thracians.

§ 6.336  THEOCRITUS
The fresh roses and this thick creeping-thyme are a gift to the Heliconian Muses; the dark-leaved laurel branches are for thee, Pythian Paean, since the rocks of Delphi gave thee this bright foliage to wear. But thy altar shall be reddened by the blood of this white horned goat that is nibbling the end of the terebinth branch.

§ 6.337  THEOCRITUS
The son of Paean hath come to Miletus too, to visit the physician Nicias who every day approaches him with sacrifice, and ordered to be carved for him this statue of perfumed cedar-wood, promising the highest fee for the delicate labour of his hands to Eetion, who put all his skill into the work.

§ 6.338  THEOCRITUS
A gift to please you all, O Muses, this marble statue was dedicated by Xenocles, a musician— who will gainsay it? and as he has gained fame by this art he does not forget the Muses.

§ 6.339  THEOCRITUS
Damomenes the choregus, who dedicated the tripod, O Dionysus, and this image of thyself, sweetest of the blessed gods, was a man moderate in all things. He won the victory with his chorus of men, keeping before his eyes ever what was good and seemly.

§ 6.340  THEOCRITUS
This Cypris is not Pandemus 1; would ye gain her favour, address as Celestial this her statue, the offering of chaste Chrysogona in the house of Amphicles. With him she dwelt in wedlock blessed with children, and each year it went better with them, since from thee they began, O sovereign Lady. Mortals who cherish the gods profit themselves thereby.

§ 6.341  Anonymous Mandrocles, having bridged the fishy Bosporus, dedicated to Hera this memorial of the bridge. A crown for himself he gained and glory for Samos by executing the work as Darius the King desired.

§ 6.342  Anonymous Look on this jigger-mast of a trireme in the porch of the Graces. This is a sample of the beginnings of ship-building; it was the first ship that Pallas Athene devised, well recompensing this city of Cyzicus, because it first raised a temple to her, the supreme Tritonian maid, in the holy Asian land. The ship carried to the Delphian shore, doing this service to Phoebus, a model of itself (?) and ingots of gold.

§ 6.343  Anonymous The sons of Athens having subdued in the work of war the peoples of Boeotia and Chalcis, quenched their arrogance in sorrowful iron bondage. These statues of the horses of their foes, they dedicated to Pallas as a tithe of the ransom.

§ 6.344  Anonymous
(On the Altar in Thespiae) Spacious Thespiae once sent these men-at-arms to barbarous Asia to avenge their ancestors, and having sacked with Alexander the cities of Persia, they set up to Zeus the Thunderer this curiously-wrought tripod.

§ 6.345  CRINAGORAS
Roses used to flower in spring, but we now in mid-winter burst scarlet from our buds, smiling gaily on this thy natal morn that falls so nigh to thy wedding. To be seen on the brow of the loveliest of women is better than to await the sun of spring.

§ 6.346  ANACREON
Give Tellis a pleasant life, O son of Maia, recompensing him for these sweet gifts; grant that he may dwell in the justly-ruled deme of Euonymea, enjoying good fortune all his days.

§ 6.347  CALLIMACHUS
Artemis, to thee did Phileratis erect this statue here. Accept it, sovereign Lady, and keep her safe.

§ 6.348  DIODORUS
These mournful lines from the skilled pen of Diodorus tell that this tomb was carved for one who died before her time in child-birth, in bearing a boy. I mourn her whom I received, blooming Athenais the daughter of Mela, who left sorrow to the ladies of Lesbos and to her father Jason. But thou hadst no care, then, Artemis, but for thy hounds deadly to beasts.

§ 6.349  PHILODEMUS
O Melicertes, son of Ino, and thou sea-blue queen of the sea, Leucothea, goddess that avertest evil, and ye Nereids linked in the dance, and ye waves, and thou, Poseidon, and Thracian Zephyr, gentlest of winds, be gracious unto me and bear me, escaping the broad billows, safe to the sweet beach of Piraeus.

§ 6.350  CRINAGORAS
To a Trumpet The Tyrrhenian trumpet that often over the plain of Pisa hath uttered shrilly its piercing note, past time did limit to two prizes. But for that thou hast led Demosthenes of Miletus to three victories, no brazen bell shall ever peal with fuller tone than thine.

§ 6.351  CALLIMACHUS
A. I was dedicated, this beech branch, to thee, O King, the lion-throttler, the boar-slayer. — B. By whom? A. By Archinus. B. Which? A. The Cretan one. B. I accept.

§ 6.352  ERINNA
This picture is the work of delicate hands; so, good Prometheus, there are men whose skill is equal to thine. At least if he who painted this girl thus to the life had but added speech, she would be, Agatharchis, your complete self.

§ 6.353  NOSSIS
It is Melinna herself. See how her sweet face seems to look kindly at me. How truly the daughter resembles her mother in everything! It is surely a lovely thing when children are like their parents.

§ 6.354  NOSSIS
Even from here this picture of Sabaethis is to be known by its beauty and majesty. Look at the wise house-wife. I hope to look soon from nigh on her gentle self. All hail, blessed among

§ 6.355  LEONIDAS
His mother, being poor, gives Micythus' picture to Bacchus, poorly painted indeed. Bacchus, I pray thee, exalt Micythus; if the gift be trumpery, it is all that simple poverty can offer.

§ 6.356  PANCRATES
Aristodice and Amino, the two Cretan four-year-old daughters of Clio thy priestess, Artemis, are dedicated here by their mother. See, O Queen, what fair children she hath, and make thee two priestesses instead of one.

§ 6.357  THEAETETUS
A. May ye be blest, ye children. Who are your parents, and what pretty names did they give to their pretty ones? B. I am Nicanor, and my father is Aeporietus, and my mother Hegeso, and I am a Macedonian. C. And I am Phila and this is my brother. We are both dedicated here owing to a vow of our parents.

§ 6.358  DIOTIMUS
Hail, dainty frock, that Lydian Omphale doffed to go to the bed of Heracles. Thou wert blessed then, frock, and blessed again art thou now that thou hast entered this golden house of Artemis.