Greek Anthology Book 16 PlanudeanThe Greek Anthology, Book 16 (from Volume 5 (of five), translated by William Roger Paton (1857-1921), Loeb/Heinemann edition of 1916, a work in the public domain, placed online by the Internet Archive, text cleaned up and reformatted by Brady Kiesling. This text has 267 tagged references to 120 ancient places.
CTS URN: urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001; Wikidata ID: Q8934183; Trismegistos: authorwork/578 [Open Greek text in new tab]
§ 1 DAMAGETUS: I am no wrestler from Messene or from Argos; Sparta, Sparta famous for her men, is my country. Those others are skilled in the art, but I, as becomes the boys of Lacedaemon, prevail by strength.
§ 2 SIMONIDES: Know Theognetus when thou lookest on him, the boy who conquered at Olympia, the dexterous charioteer of wrestling, most lovely to behold, but in combat nowise inferior to his beauty. He won a crown for the city of his noble fathers.
§ 3 BY the SAME: Diophon, the son of Philo, was victor at the Isthmian and Pythian games in jumping, fleetness of foot, throwing the quoit, throwing the javelin, and wrestling.
§ 4 ANONYMOUS: What Hector would say when wounded by the Greeks
Strike my body now after my death, for the very hares insult the body of a dead lion.
§ 5 ALCAEUS OF MESSENE: Both Xerxes led a Persian host to the land of Hellas, and Titus, too, led there a host from broad Italy, but the one meant to set the yoke of slavery on the neck of Europe, the other to put an end to the servitude of Hellas.
§ 6 ANONYMOUS: The sovereign lord of Europe, who by sea and land is as much the King of mortals as Zeus of immortals, the son of Demetrius, wielder of the strong spear, dedicated to Hecate of the roadside this booty won from bold Ciroadas, his children, and all the land of the Odrysians. Once more has the glory of Philip mounted near to the thrones of the gods.
§ 6A PANTELEUS On Callimachus and Cynaegirus
O empty toil and ineffective war! What shall we say when we meet our King? O King, why didst thou send me against immortal warriors? We shoot them and they fall not, we wound them and they fear not. A single man laid low a whole host, and covered with blood he stands in the midst, the image of tireless Ares; he stands like a tree with iron roots and will not fall, and .soon he will be in the ships. Loose the cable, captain; let us escape from the dead man’s threats.
§ 7 ALCAEUS OF MESSENE: Mixing in harmony with the singer’s voice the notes of his soft flute, Dorotheus, having come in touch with the deathless Graces, piped the mournful Trojans and Semele, slain in her labour by the levin-brand, and he piped the exploit of the horse. He alone among the holy prophets of Dionysus escaped the nimble wings of Blame. By birth he was a Theban, son of Sosicles, and in the temple of Dionysus he dedicated his mouth-band and reed-pipes.
§ 8 By the same: On Marsyas
No longer in Phrygia, the nurse of pines, as ere while, shalt thou play, speaking music through thy deftly-pierced reeds; nor in thy hands shall the craftsmanship of Tritonian Athena bloom again as erst it did, O Satyr, son of a Nymph. For now thy wrists are bound tight with gyves, for that thou, a mortal, didst encounter Phoebus in a strife meet but for gods. And the flutes that shrill a note as honeyed as his lyre’s won for thee from the contest no crown but death.
§ 9 ANONYMOUS O Dog-fly belly, through whom parasite fawners sell for a sop the law of liberty. (for poem 10 see Book IX 118
§ 11 HERMOCREON: Seat thee, stranger, as thou passest by, under this shady plane-tree, whose leaves the west wind shakes with its gentle blast; here where Nicagoras set me up, Hermes, the famous son of Maia, to be the guardian of his fruitful field and his cattle.
§ 12 Anonymous On a Statue of Pan
Come and sit under my pine that murmurs thus sweetly, bending to the soft west wind. And see, too, this fountain that drops honey, beside which, playing on my reeds in the solitude, I bring sweet sleep.
§ 13 PLATO: Sit down by this high-foliaged vocal pine that quivers in the constant western breeze, and beside my plashing stream Pan’s pipe shall bring slumber to thy charmed eyelids.
§ 14 ZENODOTUS: Who carved Love and placed him by the fountain, thinking to still this fire with water?
§ 15 ANONYMOUS: The goat-footed Satyr, once ever tipsy with the winy fount of Bromius, once the comrade of the Bacchanals, now, both his ankles bound fast in fetters, works in brass the arms for the son of goddess Thetis, not practising the skilled labour of an artist, but sustaining by toil his needy, drudging life.
§ 15A ANONYMOUS: A. Where are those cups of thine, thou tippler, where the thyrses beautifully entwined, and thy revels, O nimble-footed Satyr? Who set thee to the chisel, making fast thy feet in welded fetters, thee who didst once wrap Bacchus in swaddling-bands? B. Hideous want and all-enduring necessity, which have put me beside Hephaestus to drink coal-dust.
§ 16 ANONYMOUS: All that is superfluous is inopportune; for there is an old saying that too much of even honey is gall.
§ 17 ANONYMOUS: O Pan, sound a holy air to the feeding flocks, running thy curved lips over the golden reeds, that they may often bring home to Clymenus teeming gifts of white milk in their udders, and that the lord of the she-goats, standing in comely wise at thy altar, may belch the red blood from his shaggy breast.
§ 18 ANONYMOUS: Delight thy soul by borrowing, and leave to the lenders the cramp they get in their fingers by bending them to handle the reckoning counters.
§ 19 ANONYMOUS: “Peace (Irene) be to all” said the bishop on his appearance. How can she accompany all, when he alone has her within?
§ 19A HERODICUS OF BABYLON: Away with you from Greece, ye scholars of Aristarchus; take flight over the broad back of the sea, more fearful than the brown antelope, ye who buzz in corners and talk of monosyllables, whose business is “sphin” and “sphoin” and “min” and “nin” Let these things be yours, ye fretful men, but may Hellas and divine Babylon ever remain for Herodicus.
§ 20 AMMIANUS I MARVELLED when I saw the rhetor Maurus, the heavy-lipped and white-robed demon of the art of Rhetoric.
§ 21 ANONYMOUS On Nicolaus, Patriarch of Alexandria
He who subdued kings and put an end to the arrogance of the enemy, defending the orthodoxy of the Fathers, Nicolaus, the high-priest of Christ, lies under this little monument. But his most rich virtue took wing to the ends of the world, and his spirit dwells in the chambers of the blest. For such a blessed life he desired while yet on earth, afflicting his comely body by glorious labours.
§ 22 ANONYMOUS: Gregorius set up the image of Nicolaus, a pillar testifying to his orthodoxy and a tribute to his temperance.
§ 23 SIMONIDES: A. SAY who thou art, whose son, from what country, and in what a victor. B. Casmylus, son of Evagoras, a Rhodian, victor in boxing at the Pythian games.
§ 24 BY THE SAME: This is a beautiful statue of beautiful Milo, who, by the banks of Pisa, conquered seven times and never once fell on his knees.
§ 25 PHILIPPUS: If thou hast ever heard of Demostratus from Sinope, who twice won the Isthmian pine-wreath, it is he whom thou lookest on, he whose back never left its seal on the sand from a fall in limber wrestling bouts. Gaze at his countenance animated by pluck like a savage beast’s, how it preserves its ancient look of keenness to win. And the bronze says, “Let my base set me free, and like a living man I will dight me again for the combat.”
§ 26 SIMONIDES: We fell under the fold of Dirphys, and our funeral mound was raised near the Euripus by our country. And not undeservedly: for we lost our delightful youth facing the rugged cloud of battle.
§ 26A Anonymous On Philopoemen
His valour and his glory are known throughout Greece, this man who wrought many things by his might and many by his counsels, the Arcadian warrior Philopoemen, the captain of the spearmen, whom great fame followed in the war. The two trophies from the tyrants of Sparta speak to this; he did away with the growing servitude. Therefore did Tegea set up the statue of the great-souled son of Craugis, the establisher of perfect freedom.
§ 26B PHILIP, KING OF MACEDON
Barkless and leafless, traveller, on this ridge a lofty cross is planted by Alcaeus.
§ 27 ANONYMOUS: The Epitaph of Sardanapalus
Knowing well that thou wast born mortal, lift up thy heart, taking thy pleasure in feasting. Once dead, no enjoyment shall be thine. For I, too, who ruled over great Nineveh, am dust. I have what I ate, and my wanton frolics and the joys I learnt in Love’s company, but those many and rich possessions are left behind. This is wise counsel for men concerning life.
§ 28 ANONYMOUS: Hellas judged Thebes to be first in flute-playing, and Thebes Pronomus the son of Oeniades.
§ 29 ANONYMOUS: If thou didst ever hear of a certain dear son of Ares, both powerful in bodily strength and bold in fight, think it was none other than Hector, son of Priam, whom once the husband of Diomede slew in combat, as he made war on the Greeks for the land of the Trojans, and whom in death this tomb here covers.
§ 30 GEMINUS: The hand of Thasian Polygnotus made me, and I am that Salmoneus who madly imitated the thunder of Zeus, Zeus who in Hades again destroys me and strikes me with his bolts, hating even my mute presentment. Hold back thy fiery blast, Zeus, and abate thy wrath, for I, thy mark, am lifeless. War not with soulless images.
§ 31 SPEUSIPPUS: The earth holds in its bosom this, the body of Plato, but his soul is equal in rank to the blessed gods.
§ 32 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Portrait of Gabriel the Prefect in Byzantium
The Sun, too, is represented in pictures, but Art draws the Sun with his light hidden. And thee, Gabriel, learned prefect of the city, doth Art paint without thy virtues and without all thy achievements.
§ 32A THEAETETUS SCHOLASTICUS ROME and Beroe, when they saw this Julianus, the light of the Law, said, “Nature can do all.”
§ 33 By THE SAME AS poem 32 On a Portrait of Callinicus the Cubicularius
Thou conquerest in beauty of soul as much as in beauty of face, for thou possessest everything that is worthy of thy name, and ever in the bed-chamber, sending the emperor to sleep, thou dost sow all gentleness in his ears.
§ 34 THEODORETUS GRAMMATICUS On the Portrait of Philippus, Prefect of Smyrna
This is the gift of Philadelphia to Philippus. Mark how well the city remembers his just rule.
§ 35 ANONYMOUS: The Carians, mindful of many benefits, set here just Palmas whom they venerated so much.
§ 36 AGATHIAS On the Picture of a certain Sophist at Pergamus
Forgive our delay in offering the portrait long due to you on account of your discourses and well-running, honeyed speech; but now, Heraclamon, we have set up this picture of you in return for your labours and care for the city’s weal. If the gift be little, blame us not; for with such gifts we ever reward good men.
§ 37 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS MINOTAURUS: Thou seest Peter in his golden robes, and the Provinces that stand by him witness to his successive labours; the first is a witness of the East, and the pair after her are witnesses of the purple shell, and again of the East.
§ 38 JOANNES BARBOCALLUS On a Portrait of Synesius Scholasticus set up in Berytus to commemorate his victory in battle
Not only by Eurotas are there warriors, and not only by Ilissus are there men mindful of Justice. Victory and Themis reverenced Synesius as if he were from Sparta, as if he were a citizen of Athens herself.
§ 39 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Portrait of Longinus the Prefect in Byzantium
The Nile, Persia, the Iberian, the Lycians, the West, Armenia, the Indians, the Colchians near the crags of Caucasus, and the burning plains of the widely-scattered Arabians, are witnesses to the rapidly executed labours of Longinus; and as he was on his journeys a swift minister of the Emperor, so likewise was he swift in giving us peace which had lain in hiding.
§ 40 CRINAGORAS: Not only three Fortunes should be thy neighbours, Crispus, because of the great riches of thy heart, but all the fortunes of all the world; for to so great a man what honour shall suffice for his infinite benevolence to his friends? But now may Caesar, who is even more powerful than these Fortunes, raise thee to higher dignities. What fortune stands firm without him?
§ 41 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS On a Portrait dedicated in the Property of Placidia by the new Curators of the Treasury
Those who are entering on the new office dedicated Thomas, the universal Emperor’s blameless Curator, close to the sacred Pair, that by his very portrait also he may have a place next Majesty. For he raised higher the thrones of the divine Palace by increasing their wealth, but with piety. The work is one of gratitude; for what can the pencil give, if it give not the memory due to good men?
§ 42 ANONYMOUS: We erected here in marble the statue of Theodosius, great in counsel, the Proconsul, ruler of Asia, because he raised Smyrna from ruin and brought her to light again, the city much besung for her beautiful edifices.
§ 43 ANONYMOUS: Damocharis, judge famous for thy skill, this glory is thine, that labouring vigorously, thou didst completely rebuild Smyrna after the fatal disaster of the earthquake.
§ 44 ANONYMOUS: All Nature, O Queen, ever sings thy might, for that thou didst destroy the ranks of the enemy, for that after the evil broils thou didst kindle a light for prudent men and didst scatter the civil troubles of the strife that loosed the horses.
§ 45 ANONYMOUS: We orators would have combined to honour Theodorus with golden portraits of eternal memory, had he not avoided gold even when it is in paintings.
§ 46 ANONYMOUS: The Emperor, the Army, the cities, and the People erected the statue of Nicetas, bold in war, for his great exploits in slaying the Persians.
§ 47 ANONYMOUS: The Green Faction erected, because of his merits, the statue of Nicetas the great in war, the fearless leader. e
§ 48 ANONYMOUS: I am Proclus, the son of Paul, a Byzantine whom the Imperial Court stole from the Courts of Law where I flourished, to be the faithful mouth of our mighty Emperor. This bronze announces what reward my labours had. Son and father held all the same offices, but the son surpassed the father by his consular fasces.
§ 49 APOLLONIDES: The olden time admired Cinyras or both the Phrygians, but we, Leo, will sing thy beauty, O renowned son of Cercaphus. Most blessed of islands, then, is Rhodes, on which such a sun shines.
§ 50 BY THE SAME: If such a Leo (lion) had chanced to face Heracles, this would not have been his twelfth labour.
§ 51 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL: We honour the boy Thyonichus with this statue, not that thou mayst see by the beauty of this monument how comely he was, but, good Sir, that thou mayst learn his achievement, and be emulous of such enthusiasm. This is he whose legs never gave way owing to fatigue, and who vanquished every adversary, him of his own age, the younger one, and the elder one.
§ 52 PHILIPPUS: Perhaps, O stranger, seeing me thus with a belly like a bull and with solidly built limbs, like a second Atlas, thou marvellest, doubting if I am of mortal nature. But know that I am Heras of Laodicea, the all-round fighter, crowned by Smyrna and the oak of Pergamus, by Delphi, Corinth, Elis, Argos, and Actium. But if thou enquirest as to my victories in other contests thou shalt number also the sands of Libya.
§ 53 ANONYMOUS: Whether Ladas jumped the Stadion or flew over it, his fleetness was portentous and not easy to express in words.
§ 54 ANONYMOUS: Just as thou wert in life, Ladas, flying before wind-footed Thymus, just touching the ground with the tips of thy toes, so did Myron mould thee in bronze, stamping on all thy body thy expectation of the Olympian crown.
§ 54A ANONYMOUS: Full of hope is he, and he shows that the breath on the tip of his lips comes from deep within the hollow of his sides. The bronze is ready to leap forth to gain the crown, and the base shall not hold it back. O Art, swifter than the wind! 3
§ 55 TROILUS GRAMMATICUS: A. Statue, who dedicated thee, and because of what, and to whom? B. The city to Lyron for his wrestling.
§ 56 ANONYMOUS: Byzantine Rome set up this statue, in addition to two others, to Eusebius for his horsemanship. For he was crowned after gaining no disputed victory, but far excelling in fleetness of foot1 and valour. Therefore he quenched the light of his adversaries’ rivalry; but also he put a stop to the former dissensions of the people.
§ 57 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS On a Bacchant in Byzantium
Not Nature, but Art, made the Bacchant frenzied, mixing madness with the stone.
§ 58 ANONYMOUS On the same
Hold the Bacchant, lest, though she be stone, she leap over the threshold and escape from the temple.
§ 59 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS On the same
The sculptor set up a statue of a Bacchant, yet ignorant of how to beat the swift cymbals with her hands and ashamed. For so does she bend forward, and looks as if she were crying, “Go ye out, and I will strike them with none standing by.”
§ 60 SIMONIDES A. Who is this?
B. A Bacchant.
A. And who carved her?
A. And who made her frenzied,
Bacchus or Scopas?
§ 61 CRINAGORAS: East and West are the limits of the world, and through both ends of the earth passed the exploits of Nero. The Sun as he rose saw Armenia subdued by his hands and Germany as he went down the sky. Let us sing his double victory in war; Araxes knows it and Rhine, drunk now by enslaved peoples.
§ 62 ANONYMOUS On the Statue of Justinian in the Hippodrome
These gifts, O King, slayer of the Persians, are brought to thee by Eustathius, the father and son of thy Rome:2 a horse for thy victory, another laurelled Victory, and thyself seated on the horse swift as the wind. Thy might, Justinian, is set on high, but may the champions of the Persians and Scythians lie ever in chains on the ground.
§ 63 ANONYMOUS On the same
The bronze from the Assyrian spoils moulded the horse and the monarch and Babylon perishing. This is Justinian, whom Julian us, holding the balance of the East, erected, his own witness to his slaying of the Persians.
§ 64 ANONYMOUS On the Statue of the Emperor Justin by the Harbour
I, THE Prefect Theodorus, erected by the shore this splendid statue to Justin the Emperor, so that he might spread abroad his calm in the harbour also.
§ 65 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the Emperor Theodosius
Thou didst spring from the East to mid heaven, gentle-hearted Theodosius, a second sun, giver of light to mortals, with Ocean at thy feet as well as the boundless land, resplendent on all sides, helmeted, reining in easily, O great-hearted King, thy magnificent horse, though he strives to break away.
§ 66 ANONYMOUS Calliades, fashioning them in a single group, dedicated here mighty Byzas and lovable Phidalia.
§ 67 ANONYMOUS I, lovable Phidalia, was the wife of Byzas, and I am a gift commemorating a mighty contest.
§ 68 ASCLEPIADES OR POSIDIPPUS: This is a statue of Cypris. But come let us see if it be not Berenice’s. I am in doubt of which one should say it is the better likeness.
§ 69 ANONYMOUS: Julianus, the Prefect of the city, dedicates Zeno, the Emperor. Julianus dedicates Ariadne, the consort of Zeno.
§ 70 ANONYMOUS: The Emperor, seeing that the house of Helicon was rejuvenated by the glorious labour of Julianus, the ruler of the city, stationed himself, all of gold, before the habitation of the Muses.
§ 71 ANONYMOUS: It is everywhere the theme of song, the glory of Julianus, who, after adorning the house of the Muses, erected the golden statue of Anastasia.
§ 72 ANONYMOUS Another statue loaded with spoils shall the bold Persian erect within Susa to the Emperor for his victory, and yet another the host of the long-haired Avares beyond the Danube shearing the locks from their squalid heads. But this one here was erected for the righteousness of his rule by the Sovereign City after the consular fillet. But mayst thou stand firm, O fortunate Byzantine Rome, who hast rewarded the god-given might of Justin.
§ 73 ANONYMOUS: This golden Aurelianus, who stands here, is he who adorned the consular throne, whom our greatest emperors styled thrice Prefect and their father. The work is the Senate’s, to the troubles of which he willingly put an end.
§ 74 ANONYMOUS: To a Magistrate
Mix with mildness a little terror, for the buzzing bee herself is armed with a sharp sting, the noble horse is not guided without a whip, nor does a herd of swine obey the swineherd before they hear the sound of the far-booming crook.
§ 75 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA: Son of Kings, like to Zeus, Apollo, and Ares, lovely offspring granted to a mother’s prayers, from the Fates all kingly, all perfect things have come to thee, and thou art become the theme of Poets. Zeus has his royal sceptre, Ares his spear, and Phoebus his beauty, but thine, Cotys, are all three together.
§ 77 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS: Scarcely has the pencil portrayed the girl’s eyes, but not at all her hair nor the supreme lustre of her skin. If any can paint the sheen of the sun, he will paint the sheen of Theodora.
§ 78 By the same: (?)
Thou art envious, O pencil, and grudgest us who look, hiding her golden hair in a caul. But if in the picture thou hidest the supreme grace of her supreme head, thou canst not be trusted touching the rest of her beauty. Every pencil is favourable to form, but thou alone hast stolen from the loveliness of Theodora.
§ 79 SYNESIUS THE PHILOSOPHER On his Sister
The statue is of golden Cypris or of golden Stratonice.
§ 80 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS: I was a harlot in Byzantine Rome, granting my venal favours to all. I am Callirhoe the versatile, whom Thomas, goaded by love, set in this picture, showing what great desire he has in his soul; for even as his wax melts, so melts his heart.
§ 81 PHILIPPUS On the statue of Zeus at Olympia
Either God came from Heaven to Earth to show thee His image, Phidias, or thou didst go to see God.
§ 83 ANONYMOUS On the Picture of Ajax by Timomachus?
Ajax, more the son of Timomachus than thine own father's, Art seized on thee as thou really wert; the painter saw thee in thy frenzy; his hand grew mad as the madman, and the tears he mixed on his palette were a compound of all the griefs that made up thy sorrow.
§ 84 ANONYMOUS: With no ignorant hand did Cimon paint these things; but no work is without blame, which not even Daedalus of blessed memory escaped.
§ 85 ANONYMOUS On a Headless Statue
This work of art has lost what was required for judging it; for even it itself cannot inform us to whom it gave its head.
§ 86 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Priapus
Beware from afar off of the guardian set up in the kitchen-garden. I am such as thou seest me, O thou who goest past me, made of fig-wood, not polished with shagreen, nor carved by rule and measure, but by a shepherd’s self-taught chisel. Laugh foolishly at me, but take care not to damage Eucles’ property or you may have to laugh grimly too.
§ 87 JULIANUS: The flame that gives life to Art was my gift, and now from Art and fire I get the semblance of ceaseless pain. Ungrateful of a truth is the race of mankind, since in return for his benefit to them this is what Prometheus gets from workers in bronze.
§ 88 BY THE SAME: Homer's book calls brass a metal that is inconsumable by age, but the sculptor has visibly confuted it. For come here and look at Prometheus groaning; look at the torments of the brass consumed from its inmOst vitals. Wax wrath, O Heracles, that after the deed of thy quiver the son of Iapetos suffers ceaseless pain.
§ 89 GALLUS On Tantalus carved on a Cup
He who once sat at the table of the gods, he who often filled his belly with nectar, now lusts for a mortal liquor, but the envious brew is ever lower than his lips. “Drink,” says the carving, “and learn the secret of silence; thus are we punished who are loose of tongue.”
§ 90 ANONYMOUS: Crush, sturdy Heracles, the long necks of the snakes; choke the deep throats of the venomous brutes. Even from thy babyhood toil to defeat the spite of envious Hera, learn to labour from thy cradle up. For thy prize was no bowl of beaten brass, no cauldrons, but the road to the court of Zeus.
§ 91 ANONYMOUS On a Monument on the Acropolis of Pergamus with Reliefs of the Labours of Heracles
LOOK, Heracles, thou of the countless labours, at these thy emprises, after achieving which thou didst go to Olympus, the house of the immortals: Geryon, the famous apples, the great task of Augeas, the horses, Hippolyte, the many-headed snake, the boar, the baying hound of Chaos, the wild beast of Nemea, the birds, the bull, the Maenalian hind. But now, standing on the height of Pergamus, the inexpugnable city, defend the great sons of Telephus.
§ 92 ANONYMOUS: The Labours of Heracles
FIRST, in Nemea he slew the mighty lion. Secondly, in Lerna he destroyed the many-necked hydra. Thirdly, after this he killed the Erymanthian boar. Next, in the fourth place, he captured the hind with the golden horns. Fifthly, he chased away the Stymphalian birds. Sixthly, he won the Amazon’s bright girdle. Seventhly, he cleaned out the abundant dung of Augeas. Eighthly, he drove away from Crete the fire-breathing bull. Ninthly, he carried off from Thrace the horses of Diomedes. Tenthly, he brought from Erythea the oxen of Geryon. Eleventhly, he led up from Hades the dog Cerberus. Twelfthly, he brought to Greece the golden apples. In the thirteenth place he had this terrible labour: in one night he lay with fifty maidens.
§ 93 PHILIPPUS On the same
I SLEW the vast wild beast of Nemea, I slew the hydra and the bull, and smashed the jaw of the boar; when I had torn off the girdle 2 I took the horses of Diomedes. After plucking the golden apples I captured Geryon. Augeas learnt to know me, the hind did not escape me, and I killed the birds. I led Cerberus, and myself dwell in Olympus.
§ 94 ARCHIAS: Ye rustic ploughmen of Nemea, tremble no more at the deep roaring of the lion, slayer of bulls. It has fallen by the hands of Heracles, the supreme achiever of emprises, its throat strangled by his death-dealing hands. Drive out your flocks to pasture; let Echo, the denizen of the lonely glen, again hear the sound of bleating. And do thou, clothed in the lion-skin, again arm thee with the pelt, appeasing the spite of Hera who hateth her lord’s bastards.
§ 95 DAMAGETUS: The lion is from Nemea, but the stranger is of Argive blood; the one far the most valiant of beasts, the other of demi-gods. They come to the conflict glaring askance at each other, each about to fight for his life. Father Zeus, may the victory be the Argive man’s, that Nemea be again accessible.
§ 96 ANONYMOUS On Heracles and the Maenalian Hind
What first and what next shall my mind marvel at, what lastly shall my eyes admire in the portraiture of the man and hind? He, mounting on the beast’s loins, rests all the weight of his knee on her, grasping with his hands her beautifully branched antlers, while she, panting hard with open jaws and forced breath, tells of her heart’s anguish by her tongue. Rejoice, Heracles; the whole hind now glitters, not her horns alone golden, but fashioned all of gold by Art.
§ 97 ANONYMOUS On Heracles and Antaeus
Who moulded this bronze that groans, and by the power of his art thus figured effort and daring? The statue is alive, and' I pity him who is in distress, and shudder at Heracles the bold and mighty; for he holds Antaeus sore pressed by the grip of his hands, and the giant doubled up seems even to be groaning.
§ 98 ANONYMOUS On Heracles in his Cups
He who is now weighed down with sleep and the wine-cup, when sober slew the Centaurs heavy with wine.
§ 99 ANONYMOUS On the same
This subduer of all, of whom, telling of his twelve labours, men sing because of his mighty valour, now after the feast is heavy with wine, and rolls along unsteady in his gait from drink, conquered by soft Bacchus, the loosener of the limbs.
§ 100 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of King Lysimachus
Seeing the man’s flowing locks, and the club, and the dauntless spirit in his eyes, and the fierce frown on his brow, seek for the lion’s skin in the portrait, and if thou findest it, it is Heracles; but if not, this is the picture of Lysimachus.
§ 101 ANONYMOUS On a Picture of Heracles
As Heracles was when Theiodamas met him of old, even so did the artist portray the son of Zeus dragging off the ox from the plough and lifting up his club on high, but he did not paint the wicked murder of the ox. Yea, perchance he drew Theiodamas with a plaintive cry on his lips, hearing which Heracles spares the steer’s life.
§ 102 ANONYMOUS On a Statue or Statues of Heracles
Even as the son of Cronos sowed thee on the night of three moons; even as Eurystheus saw thee, thy labours accomplished; even as from the flame thou didst go in triumph to Olympus, so, O Alcides, hard toiler, do we look on thee in thine image. The stone's are the birth-pangs of Alcmene, and too boastful Thebes is now less worthy of belief than fables.
§ 103 GEMINUS On a Statue of Heracles
HERACLES, where is thy great club, where thy Nemean cloak and thy quiver full of arrows, where is thy stern glower? Why did Lysippus mould thee thus with dejected visage and alloy the bronze with pain? Thou art in distress, stripped of thy arms. Who was it that laid thee low? Winged Love, of a truth one of thy heavy labours.
§ 104 PHILIPPUS On the same
So Hera, then, wished for this to crown all his labours, the sight of doughty Heracles stripped of his arms! Where is the lion-skin cloak, where the quiver of loud-whizzing arrows on his shoulder and the heavy-footed branch, the slayer of beasts? Love has stripped thee of all, and it is not strange that, having made Zeus a swan, he deprived Heracles of his weapons.
§ 105 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Theseus and the Bull of Marathon
Marvellous is the art of the bull and man: lie, the man, his limbs all tense, forces down by his might the savage beast. To bend back the sinews of its neck he grasps with his left hand its nostrils, with his right its horn, and shakes up the neck-bones. The beast, its neck subdued by his strong hands, sinks down on its hindquarters. One may fancy that in this bronze Art makes the beast breathe and bathes the man in sweat.
§ 106 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Capaneus
Had Capaneus been like this when he furiously attacked the towers of Thebes, contriving to mount through the air on a ladder, he would have taken the city by force in Fate’s despite; for even the bolt of Zeus would have deemed it shame to slay such a champion.
§ 107 JULIANUS On a Bronze Statue of Icarus which stood in a Bath
Icarus, wax caused thy death, and now by wax the worker in bronze has restored thee to thy shape. But beat not thy wings in the air, lest thou fall from the sky and give thy name to the bath.
§ 108 BY THE SAME On the same
Icarus, remember thou art of bronze, and let neither art nor the pair of wings on thy shoulders delude thee; for if, when alive, thou didst fall into the depths of the sea, how canst thou wish to fly when formed of bronze?
§ 109 AGATHIAS on Hippolytus conversing with Phaedra's Nurse
Hippolytus speaks into the old wife’s ear pitiless words, but we cannot hear them. But as far as we can understand from the fury in his eyes, he enjoins her not to say again unlawful words.
§ 109 11O. PHILOSTRATUS On a Picture of Telephus Wounded
THIS, the irresistible chieftain of Teuthrania; this Telephus who once bathed in blood the terrible host of the Greeks when he filled Mysian Caycus to overflowing with slaughter; this, the champion who faced the spear of Peleus, now bearing hidden deep in his thigh a heavy and deadly wound, wastes away as if his life were leaving him, dragging himself along with his living flesh. Even though he be sore hurt the Greeks tremble at him, and depart in disorder from the Teuthranian shore.
§ 111 GLAUCUS On a Picture of Philoctetes
Parrhasius painted this, Philoctetes’ likeness, after verily seeing the long-suffering hero from Trachis. For in his dry eyes there lurks a mute tear, and the wearing pain dwells inside.
O best of painters, great is thy skill, but it was time to give rest from his pains to the much tried man.
§ 112 ANONYMOUS On a Bronze Statue of the same
My foe, more than the Greeks, was my maker, a second Odysseus, who put me in mind again of my evil, accursed hurt. They were not enough, the rock-cave, the rags, the pus, the sore, the misery, but he wrought in the brass even the pain.
§ 113 JULIANUS On a Picture of the same
I KNOW Philoctetes when I look on him, for he makes manifest his pain to all, even to those who gaze on him from a distance. He is all shaggy like a wild man; look at the locks of his head, squalid and harsh-coloured. His skin is parched and shrunk to look at, and perchance feels dry even to the finger’s touch. Beneath his dry eyes the tears stand frozen, the sign of sleepless agony.
§ 114 COSMAS On Pyrrhus about to butcher Polyxena
I AM Pyrrhus, and am urgent for my fathers sake; but she, the shameless girl, calls on Pallas, though her brother be Paris.
§ 115 ANONYMOUS On the Centaur Chiron
A horse is shed forth from a man, and a man springs up from a horse; a man without feet and a swift horse without a head; a horse belches out a man, and a man farts out a horse.
§ 116 EVODUS On the same
There were a horse without a head and a man lying unfinished: Nature, in sport, grafted him on the swift horse.
§ 117 CORNELIUS LONGINUS On a Painting of Cynaegirus
Phasis did not paint thee, blest Cynaegirus, as Cynaegirus, since thou hast sturdy hands in this his offering. Yet the painter was a skilful one, and did not deprive of thy hands thee who art immortal because of thy hands.
§ 118 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS On the same
The hands that dealt death to the Medes were hewn off by axes as they rested on the curved stern of the ship which was hastening away, then, Cynaegirus, when that flying vessel was held by thy hand as if by a cable. But even so, gripping tight the ship’s timber, they accompanied the Persians, a lifeless terror to them. Some barbarian took the hands, but their victory remained with the inhabitants of Mopsopia.
§ 119 POSIDIPPUS On a Statue of Alexander of Macedon
LYSIPPUS, sculptor of Sicyon, bold hand, cunning craftsman, its glance is of fire, that bronze thou didst cast in the form of Alexander. No longer do we blame the Persians: cattle may be pardoned for flying before a lion.
§ 120 ARCHELAUS OR ASCLEPIADES On the same
Lysippus modelled Alexander’s daring and his whole form. How great is the power of this bronze ! The brazen king seems to be gazing at Zeus and about to say, “I set Earth under my feet; thyself, Zeus, possess Olympus.”
§ 121 Anonymous On the same
Imagine that thou seest Alexander himself; so flash his very eyes in the bronze, so lives his dauntless mien. He alone subjected to the throne of Pella all the earth which the rays of Zeus look on from heaven.
§ 122 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the same as a Child
Here seest thou newly-born Alexander, the son of great-hearted Philip, him the bold-spirited to whom Olympias of old gave birth, to whom from his cradle Ares taught the labours of war and whom Fortune called to the throne.
§ 123 ANONYMOUS: No, by Heracles the ox-eater, ye country lads, no longer shall wily wolves set their feet here, and thieves shall refuse to tread the path of pilfering, even if the villagers lie in imprudent sleep. For Dionysius withal, not without a vow, hath set me, Heracles, here to be the place’s good defender.
§ 124 Anonymous On a Statue of Heracles
Tremble not, traveller, at this, that I have unsheathed my bow and newly sharpened arrows and laid them at my feet, nor that I bear a club in my hand and wear round my shoulders the skin of a tawny lion. It is not my task to hurt all men, but only evil-doers, and I also can deliver the good from sorrow.
§ 125 ANONYMOUS Oh a Picture of Ulysses
Ever is the sea unkind to the son of Laertes; the flood hath bathed the picture and washed off the figure from the wood. What did it gain thereby? For in Homer’s verse the image of him is painted on immortal pages.
§ 126 ANONYMOUS On the Minotaur
The bull-boy, in no respect complete, he who betrays his mother’s passion, the man half-beast, the double nature, the bull-headed, the freak of bodies, who is neither a whole ox nor a whole man.
§ 127 ANONYMOUS: Who moulded in bronze this one-shoed Thracian Lycurgus, the chieftain of the Edones? 2 Look how, in his insolent fury, standing by the stem of Bacchus’ vine, he holds high over his head his heavy axe. His pose speaks of his old overboldness, and even in the brass his insolent fury has that bitterness we look for.
§ 128 ANONYMOUS On Iphigenia
Iphigenia rageth furiously, but the face of Orestes recalls her to the sweet memory of kinship. Being stirred by wrath, and gazing, too, at her brother, her glance is as of one carried away by mixed fury and pity.
§ 129 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Niobe
From a living being the gods made me a stone, but Praxiteles from a stone made me alive again.
§ 130 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On a Picture of the same
Thou seest the veritable shape of unhappy Niobe as if she were still bewailing the fate of her children. But if it is not given to her to have a soul, blame not the artist for this: he portrayed a woman of stone.
§ 131 ANTIPATER (OF THESSALONICA?) On the same
This is the daughter of Tantalus, who of old bore from a single womb twice seven children, victims of Phoebus and Artemis: for the Maiden sent untimely death to the maiden, the male god to the boys, the two slaying two companies of seven. She, once the mother of such a flock, the mother of lovely children, was not left with one to tend her age. The mother was not, as was meet, buried by her children, but the children all were carried by their mother to the sorrowful tomb. Tantalus, thy tongue was fatal to thee and to thy daughter; she became a rock, and over thee hangs a stone to terrify thee.
§ 132 THEODORIDAS On the same
Stand near, stranger, and weep when thou lookest on the infinite mourning of Niobe, the daughter of Tantalus, who held not her tongue under lock and key; whose brood of twelve children is laid low now on earth, these by the arrows of Phoebus, and those by the arrows of Artemis. Now, her form compounded of stone and flesh, she is become a rock, and high-built Sipylus groans. A guileful plague to mortals is the tongue whose unbridled madness gives birth often to calamity.
§ 133 ANTIPATER (OF SIDON) On the same
WHY, woman, dost thou lift up to Olympus thy shameless hand, and let thy divine hair fall loose from thy godless head? Looking now on the heavy wrath of Leto, O mother of many children, bemoan thy bitter and froward strife. One of thy daughters is gasping beside thee, one lies lifeless, and heavy death is nigh descending on another. Yea, and this is not yet the end of thy woe, but the swarm of thy male children lies low likewise in death. O Niobe, weeping for the heavy day that gave thee birth, thou shalt be a lifeless rock consumed by sorrow.
§ 134 MELEAGER On the same:
Niobe, daughter of Tantalus, hearken to my word, the announcer of woe; receive the most mournful tale of thy sorrows. Loose the fillet of thy hair; thy male children, alas! thou didst bear but to fall by the woe-working arrows of Phoebus. Thy boys are no more. But what is this other thing? What do I see? Alack! alack! the flood of blood has overtaken the maidens. One clasps her mother’s knees, one rests on her lap, one on the ground, and the head of one has fallen on her breast. Another is smitten with terror at the shaft flying straight to her, and one stoops before the arrows, while the rest still live and see the light. And the mother, who erst took pleasure in her tongue’s chatter, now for horror stands like a rock built of flesh.
§ 135 ANONYMOUS On the Picture of Medea in Rome
The art of Timomachus mingled the love and jealousy of Medea as she drags her children to death. She half consents as she looks at the sword, and half refuses, wishing both to save and to slay her children.
§ 136 ANTIPHILUS On the same
When the hand of Timomachus painted baleful Medea, pulled in diverse directions by jealousy and love of her children, he undertook vast labour in trying to draw her two characters, the one inclined to wrath, the other to pity. But he showed both to the full; look at the picture: in her threat dwell tears, and wrath dwells in her pity. The intention is enough, as the sage said. The blood of the children befitted Medea, not the hand of Timomachus.
§ 137 PHILIPPUS On the same
Who, lawless Colchian, chronicled thy wrath in the picture? Who wrought thee, thus barbarous even in thy image? Dost thou yet thirst for thy babes’ blood? Is some second Jason or another Glauce thy pretext? Out on thee, murderess of thy children, even in the painted wax. For the very picture feels that jealousy of thine that passed all bounds.
§ 138 ANONYMOUS On the same
Come, look on the child-murderess in a picture; look on her image, the Colchian’s, drawn by the hand of Timomachus. The sword is in her hand, great is her wrath, wild is her eye, the tears are falling for her most unhappy children. The painter has made a medley of all, uniting things most uncombinable, but he refrained from reddening his hand with blood.
§ 139 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the same
Timomachus, when he painted Medea, put two souls into the soulless image of her form. For joining her jealousy of her husband and her love for her children he shows her to our eyes dragged in diverse directions.
§ 140 Anonymous On the same
COME, look and marvel at the pity and wrath that dwell under her brow; look at the fiery orbs of her eyes; look at the mother’s hand, the hand of the bitterly suffering wife, drawn towards slaughter by a relenting impulse. The painter rightly hid from us the accomplishment of the murder, not wishing to blunt by mourning our admiration as we look on his work.
§ 141 PHILIPPUS On the same
How, twittering swallow, didst thou suffer to have as nurse of thy children the Colchian woman, the vengeful destroyer of her babes, from whose bloodshot eye still flashes murderous fire, from whose jaws white foam still drips, whose sword is freshly bathed in blood? Fly from the fatal mother, who even in the wax is still slaying her children.
§ 142 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the same
Though of stone thou art frenzied, and the fury of thy heart has hollowed thy eyes and made them meet to. express thy anger. Yet not even thy base shall hold thee back, but thou shalt leap forward in thy wrath, mad because of thy children. Oh ! who was the artist or sculptor who moulded this, who by his skill sent a stone mad?
§ 143 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA On the Picture of the same
This is the picture of Medea. See how one eye is raised in wrath, but the other is softened by affection for her children.
§ 144 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On Atalanta and Hippomenes
Hast thou thrown this golden gift to the maiden, Hippomenes, as a wedding present, or to delay her fleet feet? The apple accomplished both, since it both delayed the girl in her course and was a token of Aphrodite, who links in wedlock.
§ 145 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Ariadne
No mortal was thy sculptor, but he carved thee even as thy lover Bacchus saw thee reclining on the rock.
§ 146 ANONYMOUS On the same
STRANGERS, touch not this stone Ariadne, lest she leap up seeking Theseus.
§ 147 ANTIPHILUS On a Painting of Andromeda
The land is Ethiopian; he with the winged sandals is Perseus; she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda; the face is the Gorgon’s, whose glance turns men to stone; the sea-monster is the task set by Love, she who boasted of her child’s beauty is Cassiopea. Andromeda releases from the rock her feet inured to numbness and dead, and her suitor carries off the bride his prize.
§ 148 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On the same
Did Cepheus or the painter expose Andromeda on the rocks, for the judgment of the eye is indecisive? And was the monster drawn as we see it on the curving crag, or did it rise out of the neighbouring sea? I see: a skilled man made these things; he was indeed clever thus to deceive our eyes and our wits.
§ 149 Bv THE SAME On a Picture of Helen
This is the lovely form of Argive Helen, whom of old the cowherd carried away, spurning Zeus who protects host and guest.
§ 150 POLLIANUS: This is the Polyxena of Polycleitus, and no other hand touched this divine picture. It is a twin sister of his Hera. See how, her robe being torn, she covers her nakedness with her modest hand. The unhappy maiden is supplicating for her life, and in her eyes lies all the Trojan War.
§ 151 ANONYMOUS On a Painting of Dido
Thou seest, O stranger, the exact likeness of far-famed Dido, a portrait shining with divine beauty. Even so I was, but had not such a character as thou hearest, having gained glory rather for reputable things. For neither did I ever set eyes on Aeneas nor did I reach Libya at the time of the sack of Troy, but to escape a forced marriage with Iarbas I plunged the two-edged sword into my heart. Ye Muses, why did ye arm chaste Virgil against me to slander thus falsely my virtue?
§ 152 GAURADAS: Dear Echo, grant me somewhat. What? I love a girl, but do not think she loves. She loves. But to do it Time gives me not good chance. Good chance. Do thou then tell her I love her, if so be thy will. I will. And here is a pledge in the shape of cash I beg thee to hand over. Hand over. Echo, what remains but to succeed?—Succeed.
§ 153 SATYR US On a Statue of Echo
Tongueless Echo sings in the shepherd’s meadow, her voice taking up and responding to the notes of the birds.
§ 154 LUCIAN OR ARCHIAS On the same
'Tis Echo of the rocks thou seest, my friend, the companion of Pan, singing back to us a responsive note, the garrulous counterfeit of every kind of tongue, the shepherds’ sweet toy. After hearing every word thou utterest, begone.
§ 155 EVODUS On the same
Echo the mimic, the lees of the voice, the tail of a word.
§ 156 ANONYMOUS On the same
An Arcadian goddess am I, and I dwell by the portals of Dionysus, returning vocal responses. For no longer, dear Bacchus, do I hate thy companion. Come, Pan, let us talk in unison.
§ 157 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the Statue of the armed Athena at Athens
Why', Tritogeneia, dost thou put on armour in the middle of the city? Poseidon has yielded to thee. Spare the land of Cecrops.
§ 158 DIOTIMUS: I am Artemis fashioned in the form that befits me, and well does the brass itself tell that I am the daughter of Zeus and of no other. Consider the maiden’s audacity. Verily thou wouldst say that the whole earth is a hunting-ground too small for her.
§ 159 ANONYMOUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite of Praxiteles
Who gave a soul to marble? Who saw Cypris on earth? Who wrought such love-longing in a stone? This must be the work of Praxiteles* hands, or else perchance Olympus is bereaved since the Paphian has descended to Cnidus.
§ 160 PLATO On the same
Paphian Cytherea came through the waves to Cnidus, wishing to see her own image, and having viewed it from all sides in its open shrine, she cried, “Where did Praxiteles see me naked?” Praxiteles did not look on forbidden things, but the steel carved the Paphian as Ares would have her.
§ 161 BY THE SAME On the same
Neither did Praxiteles nor the chisel work thee, but so thou standest as of old when thou earnest to judgment.
§ 162 ANONYMOUS On the same
CYPRIS, seeing Cypris in Cnidus, said, “Alas! alas! where did Praxiteles see me naked?”
§ 163 LUCIAN On the same
None ever saw the Paphian naked, but if anyone did, it is this man who here erected the naked Paphian.
§ 164 BY THE SAME: To thee, Cypris, I dedicate the beautiful image of thy form, since I have nothing better than thy form.
§ 165 EVENUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite
Pallas and the consort of Zeus said, when they saw the Cnidian, “We are wrong in finding fault with Paris.”
§ 166 BY THE SAME On the same
The neatherd alone saw of old on the mountains of Ida her who gained the prize of beauty, but Praxiteles has set her in full view of the Cnidians, having the vote of Paris to attest his skill.
§ 167 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the same and on Praxiteles’ Statue of Eros at Thespiae
You will say, when you look on Cypris in rocky Cnidus, that she, though of stone, may set a stone on fire; but when you see the sweet Love in Thespiae you will say that he will not only set fire to a stone, but to cold adamant. Such were the gods Praxiteles made, each in a different continent, that everything should not be burnt up by the double fire.
§ 168 ANONYMOUS On the Cnidian Aphrodite
Paris, Anchises, and Adonis saw me naked. Those are all I know of, but how did Praxiteles contrive it?
§ 169 ANONYMOUS On the same and on the Athena in Athens
Gaze from every side at the divine beauty of the foam-born Paphian and you will say, “I applaud the Phrygian’s judgment.” Again when you look at the Attic Pallas you will cry out, “It was just like a neatherd for Paris to pass her by.”
§ 170 HERMODORUS On the same
When you see, stranger, the Cnidian Cytherea, you would say this, “Rule alone over mortals and immortals/* but when you look at Pallas in the city of Cecrops boldly brandishing her spear you will exclaim, “Paris was really a bumpkin.”
§ 171 LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA On Armed Aphrodite
WHY, Cytherea, hast thou put on these arms of Ares, bearing this useless weight? For, naked thyself, thou didst disarm Ares himself, and if a god has been vanquished by thee it is in vain that thou takest up arms against mortals.
§ 172 ALEXANDER OF AETOLIA On a Statue of Aphrodite
Pallas herself, I think, wrought Aphrodite to perfection, forgetting the judgment of Paris.
§ 173 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the Armed Aphrodite in Sparta
Cypris has ever learnt to carry a quiver and bow, and to ply the far-shooting archer’s craft. Is it from reverence for the laws of warlike Lycurgus that, bringing her love-charms to Sparta, she comes clad in armour for close combat? But ye, daughters of Sparta, venerating in your chambers the arms of Cytherea, bring forth courageous sons.
§ 174 ANONYMOUS On the same
PALLAS, seeing Cytherea in arms, said, “Cypris, wouldst thou that we went to the judgment so?” But she, with a gentle smile, answered, “Why should I lift up a shield in combat? If I conquer when naked, how will it be when I arm myself?”
§ 175 ANTIPATER On the same
Either the stone statue, as being Aphrodite, armed itself, or perhaps rather Aphrodite saw the statue and swore, “Would I were it.”
§ 176 By THE SAME On the same
Cypris belongs to Sparta too, but her statue is not, as in other cities, draped in soft folds. No, on her head she wears a helmet instead of a veil, and bears a spear instead of golden branches. For it is not meet that she should be without arms, who is the spouse of Thracian Ares and a Lacedaemonian.
§ 177 PHILIPPUS On the same
Laughter-loving Aphrodite, minister of the bridal chamber, who girt thee, honey-sweet goddess that thou art, with the weapons of war? To thee the Paean is dear, and golden-haired Hymenaeus and the dulcet charm of shrill-voiced flutes. Why hast thou put on these engines of murder? Is it that thou hast despoiled bold Ares to boast how great is the might of Cypris?
§ 178 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the Aphrodite Anadyomene of Apelles
Look on the work of Apelles' pencil: Cypris, just rising from the sea, her mother; how, grasping her dripping hair with her hand, she wrings the foam from the wet locks. Athena and Hera themselves will now say, “No longer do we enter the contest of beauty with thee.’*
§ 179 ARCHIAS On the same
Apelles saw Cypris herself brought forth by the sea, her nurse; and so he drew her, still wringing with her fresh hands her locks soaked with the foam of the waters.
§ 180 DEMOCRITUS On the same
When Cypris, her hair dripping with the salt foam, rose naked from the purple waves, even in this wise holding her tresses with both hands close to her white cheeks, she wrung out the brine of the Aegean, showing only her bosom, that indeed it is lawful to look on; but if she be like this, let the wrath of Ares be confounded.
§ 181 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the same
The Paphian has but now come forth from the sea’s womb, delivered by Apelles* midwife hand. But back quickly from the picture, lest thou be wetted by the foam that drips from her tresses as she wrings them. If Cypris looked thus when she stripped for the apple, Pallas was unrighteous in laying Troy waste.
§ 182 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM On the same
Apelles having seen Cypris, the giver of marriage blessing, just escaped from her mother’s bosom and still wet with bubbling foam, figured her in her most delightsome loveliness, not painted, but alive. With beautiful grace doth she wring out her hair with her finger-tips, beautifully doth calm love flash from her eyes, and her paps, the heralds of her prime, are firm as quinces. Athena herself and the consort of Zeus shall say, “O Zeus, we are worsted in the judgment.”
§ 183 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Dionysus which stood near Athena
A. “Tell me what hast thou in common with Pallas; for to her javelins and wars, to thee banquets are exceeding dear.” B. “Do not rashly, O stranger, ask such questions about the gods, but learn in how many ways I am like to this goddess. For the glory of wars is dear to me likewise; all India, subdued by me as far as the Eastern Ocean, knows it. The race of mortals, too, have we gifted, she with the olive, and I with the sweet clusters of the vine. Neither again did a mother suffer the pangs of labour for me, but I burst from our father’s thigh, she from his head.”
§ 184 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA On another Statue of the same
I, DIONYSUS, the fellow-soldier of Italian Piso, am set here to guard his house and bring him good fortune. A worthy house hast thou entered, Dionysus. Meet is the house for Bacchus, and Bacchus for the house.
§ 185 ANONYMOUS On Statues of Dionysus and Heracles
Both are from Thebes, both warriors, and both sons of Zeus. The one wields well his thyrsus, the other his club. The statues of both are close together and like are the arms they bear, the one a fawn-skin, the other a lion-skin; cymbals the one, a rattle2 the other. To both Hera was a cruel goddess, and both through fire went from earth to the immortals.
§ 186 XENOCRATES On a Statue of Hermes
Swift Hermes is my name, but in the wrestling-school set me not up without arms and feet; or how shall I be swift, and how shall I spar correctly, if I stand on a base deprived of both? 8
§ 187 ANONYMOUS On another of the same
A CERTAIN man prayed for help to a wooden Hermes, and Hermes remained wooden. Then, taking him up, the man threw him on the ground, and, the sfhtue breaking, out from it poured gold. Outrage often produces profit.
§ 188 NICIAS On Another
I, HERMES, whose domain is Cyllene’s steep, forest-clad hill, stand here guarding the pleasant playground; and on me the boys often set marjoram and hyacinths and fresh wreaths of violets.
§ 189 BY THE SAME On a Statue of Pan
Having left the slopes of Maenalus I abide here, for Peristratus’ sake, to guard the hives, on the watch for him who would rob the bees. But keep clear of my hand and the nimble stride of my country-bred shanks.
§ 190 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM On a Statue of Hermes
Morichus the goatherd set me up, Hermes the overseer, to be the approved guardian of his fold. But, ye nannies who have taken your fill of green herbage on the mountains, heed not now at all the ravening wolf.
§ 191 NICAENETUS On Another
I, a Hermes of our native clay and with earthern feet, was moulded on the revolving circle of the wheel; of mud was I kneaded, I will tell no lie; but, stranger, I loved the luckless labour of the potters.
§ 192 ANONYMOUS On a Hermes by Scopas
STRANGER, deem not that thou lookest on one of the vulgar crowd of Hermae; for I am the work of Scopas.
§ 193 PHILIPPUS A. MAY I touch the kale, Cyllenian? B. No, traveller. A. Why grudge some greens? B. It is not grudging, but it is the law to keep pilfering hands from other people’s property. A. Well! that is strange. Hermes has made a new law against stealing.
§ 194 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Love made into a Frying-pan2
Someone has transferred this brazen Love from fire to fire, fitting a frying-pan on to him, torment to torment.
§ 195 SATYRUS On a Statue of Love Bound
Who fettered thee, the winged boy, who bound swift fire with chains? Who laid his hand on Love's burning quiver and made fast behind his back those hands swift to shoot, tying them to a sturdy pillar? Such things are but chill consolation for men. Did not, perchance, this prisoner himself enchain once the mind of the artist?
§ 196 ALCAEUS OF MESSENE On the same
Who impiously hunted thee down and set thee here in fetters? Who crossed and bound thy hands, and wrought thee with this rueful face? Where, poor child, is thy swift bow, where the bitter quiver that held thine arrows? Of a truth in vain the sculptor laboured, making fast in this trap thee who dost tempest the gods with the fury of desire.
§ 197 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the same
Who bound thy hands to the pillar in a fast knot? Who took captive fire by fire and guile by guile? My boy, bedew not thy sweet face with tears, for thou dost take delight in the tears of young men.
§ 198 MAECIUS On the same
WEEP, thou wrong-headed god, with thy hands made fast beyond escape; weep bitterly, letting fall soul-consuming tears, scorner of chastity, thief of the mind, robber of the reason, Love, thou winged fire, thou unseen wound in the soul. Thy bands, O wrong-headed boy, are to mortals a release from complaint; remain fast bound, sending thy prayers to the deaf winds, and watch that torch that thou, eluding all vigilance, didst light in men’s hearts, being quenched now by thy tears. 199. CRINAGORAS On the same
Weep and moan, thou artful schemer, the sinews of thy hands made fast: thou hast thy desert. None will untie thee; make not those piteous faces; for thou thyself, Love, didst wring the tears from other eyes, and piercing the heart with thy bitter darts, didst instil the venom of desire that takes fast hold. The woes of mortals are thy sport. Thou hast suffered what thou hast done. An excellent thing is justice.
§ 200 MOSCHUS On Love Ploughing CURLY-HAIRED Love, laying aside his torch and bow, took an ox-driver's rod and wore a bag on his shoulders; coupling the patient necks of the oxen under the yoke, he began to sow the wheat-bearing furrow of Demeter. Looking up he said to Zeus himself, “Fill the cornfield, lest I put thee, Europe's bull, to the plough.*'
§ 201 MARIANUS SCHOLASTICUS On Love Garlanded “WHERE is that back-bent bow of thine, and the reed-arrows driven by thee into the middle of the breast? Where are thy wings, where thy torturing torch, and wherefore dost thou bear three garlands in thy arms and wear another on thy head?" “Stranger, I am not sprung from vulgar Cypris nor from the earth; I am no offspring of material joy. But I am he who lights the torch of learning in the pure minds of mortals, and leads the soul up to heaven. From the four Virtues I weave garlands, and carrying these, one of each, I crown myself with the first, the crown of Wisdom."
§ 202 ANONYMOUS On the same
Say not, stranger, that I am he from Lebanon, he who delights in the converse by night of youths who love the revel. I am a little Love and country-bred, the son of the Nymph who dwells hard by, and I further but the gardener’s labour. Hence from my dear fruitful plot I am crowned with four crowns by the four Horae (seasons).
§ 203 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On the Eros of Praxiteles
PRAXITELES, who stooped his proud neck for my sandals to tread on, wrought me with his captive hands. For, working me in bronze, he gave me, that very Love that was hidden within him, to Phryne, an offering of friendship. But she again brought it to give to Love; for it is lawful for lovers to bring Love himself as a gift to Love.
§ 204 PRAXITELES On the same
Praxiteles perfectly portrayed that Love he suffered, taking the model from his own heart, giving me to Phryne in payment for myself. But I give birth to passion no longer by shooting arrows, but by darting glances.
§ 205 TULLIUS GEMINUS On the same
PRAXITELES, in return for love, gave me, Love, a god to mortal Phryne, creating at once a guerdon and a god. But she repulsed not the artist, for in her mind she feared lest the god should take up his bow to fight for the sculptor’s art. She dreads no longer the son of Cypris, but thy offspring, Praxiteles, knowing that Art is his mother.
§ 206 LEONIDAS OF ALEXANDRIA (?) On the same
The Thespians venerate Love, the son of Cytherea, alone amongst the gods, and not Love copied from any other model, but the god whom Praxiteles knew, seeing whom in Phryne he gave him to her as the ransom of his desire.
§ 207 PALLADAS On a Statue of Love
Love is unarmed; therefore he smiles and is gentle, for he has not his bow and fiery arrows. And it is not without reason that he holds in his hands a dolphin and a flower, for in one he holds the earth, in the other the sea.
§ 208 GABRIEL THE PREFECT On Love Asleep on a Pepper-Castor
Neither when asleep, nor when lifeless, nor at the banquet, is Love without a fire-scattering nip.
§ 209 ANONYMOUS A: Love Couplet
THOU who dost blow on thy torch to light the lamp, come and light it from my soul. I am all aflame.
§ 210 PLATO
When we entered the deep-shadowed wood we found within it the son of Cytherea, like unto rosy apples. Nor had he the quiver that holds arrows, nor his bent bow, but they were hanging on the leafy trees, and he lay among the rose-blossoms smiling, bound fast by sleep, and above him the tawny bees were sprinkling on his dainty lips honey dripping from the comb.
§ 211 STATYLLIUS FLACCUS On Love Asleep
Thou sleepest, thou who bringest sleepless care on mortals; thou sleepest, O child of the baneful daughter of the foam, not armed with thy fiery torch, nor sending from thy backward-bent, twanging bow the dart that none may escape. Let others pluck up courage, but I fear, thou overweening boy, lest even in thy sleep thou see a dream bitter to me.
§ 212 ALPHEIUS On the same
I SHALL snatch the fiery pine-brand from thy hand, O Love, and strip thee of the quiver that hangs across thy shoulders, if in truth thou sleepest, thou child of fire, and we mortals have peace for a little season from thy arrows. But even so I fear thee, thou weaver of wiles, lest thou have one hidden for me and see a cruel dream in thy sleep.
§ 213 MELEAGER OR STRATO: Though on thy back thou hast swift outstretched wings, though thou hast thy sharp-pointed Scythian arrows, I shall escape from thee, Love, under the earth. Yet what shall that avail me? For even Hades himself, who overcometh all things, did not escape thy might.
§ 214 SECUNDUS On Statues of Loves LOOK how the Loves delight in their spoils; look how, in childish triumph, they wear the weapons of the gods on their sturdy shoulders: the tambourine and thyrse of Bacchus, the thunderbolt of Zeus, the shield of Ares and his plumed helmet, the quiver of Phoebus well stocked with arrows, the trident of the sea-god, and the club from the strong hands of Heracles. What shall men’s strength avail when Love has stormed heaven and Cypris has despoiled the immortals of their arms !
§ 215 PHILIPPUS On the same
Look how the Loves, having plundered Olympus, deck themselves in the arms of the immortals, exulting in their spoils. They bear the bow of Phoebus, the thunderbolt of Zeus, the shield and helmet of Ares, the club of Heracles, the three-pronged spear of the sea-god, the thyrse of Bacchus, Hermes’ winged sandals, and Artemis’ torches. Mortals need not grieve that they must yield to the arrows of the Loves, if the gods have given them their arms wherewith to busk themselves.
§ 216 PARMENION On a Statue of Hera
Polycleitus of Argos, who alone saw Hera with his eyes, and moulded what he saw of her, revealed her beauty to mortals as far as was lawful; but we, the unknown forms beneath her dress's folds, are reserved for Zeus.
§ 217 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Calliope
I am Calliope, and I gave to Cyrus my breast to suck, the breast which nourished divine Homer, and from whence sweet Orpheus drank.
§ 218 JOANNES BARBOCALLUS: The painter wished to portray Melpomene, but as she was absent he painted Calliope.
§ 219 BY THE SAME: This is a portrait of thee, Polymnia, and thou art a portrait of the Muse; for both have one name and one form.
§ 220 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On Statues of the Muses
Three are we, the Muses who stand here; one bears in her hands a flute, another a harp, and the third a lyre. She who is the work of Aristocles holds the lyre, Ageladas’ Muse the harp, and Canachas’s the musical reeds. The first is she who rules tone, the second makes melody of colour, and the third invented skilled harmony.
§ 221 THEAETETUS SCHOLASTICUS On the Nemesis of the Athenians
I AM a white stone which the Median sculptor quarried with his stone-cutter s tools from the mountain where the rocks grow again, and he bore me across the sea to make of me images, tokens of victory over the Athenians. But when Marathon resounded with the Persian rout, and the ships voyaged on bloody waves, Athens, the mother of beautiful works, carved of me Adrasteia, the goddess who is the foe of arrogant men. I counterbalance vain hopes, and I am still a Victory to the Athenians, a Nemesis to the Assyrians.
§ 222 PARMENION On the same
I, THE stone of whom the Medes hoped to make a trophy, was changed opportunely to the form of Nemesis, the goddess justly planted on the shore of Rhamnus to be a witness to the Attic land of victory and the skill of her artist.
§ 223 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Nemesis
Nemesis warns us by her cubit-rule and bridle neither to do anything without measure nor to be unbridled in our speech.
§ 224 ANONYMOUS On the same
I, Nemesis, hold a cubit-rule. “Why?” you will say. I proclaim to all men, “Nothing beyond due measure.”
§ 225 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Statue of Pan
We might, perhaps, have clearly heard Pan piping, for the sculptor infused breath into the statue, but left resourceless when he saw fickle Echo flying, the god renounced the unavailing voice of the pipe.
§ 226 ALCAEUS OF MESSENE On the same
O Pan, who walkest on the mountains, breathe music with thy sweet lips, delighted with thy shepherd’s reed, pouring forth melody from the sweet-toned pipe, and bring its shrill notes into tune with the words it accompanies, and round thee to the beat of the rhythm let the inspired feet of these water-nymphs move in the dance.
§ 227 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Hermes
Throw thyself down here, wayfarer, on the green meadow, and rest thy languid limbs from painful toil; here where the pine also, tossed by the western breeze, shall soothe thee as thou listenest to the song of the cicadas, and the shepherd likewise on the hills, piping at mid-day by the fountain under the leafy plane-tree. Thus, having escaped the burning heat of the autumnal dog-star, thou shalt in good time cross the hill. Take this counsel that Hermes gives thee.
§ 228 ANYTE: Stranger, rest thy weary legs under the elm; hark how sweetly the breeze murmurs in the green leaves; and drink a cold draught from the fountain; for this is indeed a resting-place dear to travellers in the burning heat.
§ 229 ANONYMOUS On a Picture of Pan
This, our dearest one, is the issue of the loins of Zeus himself and the cloud over his head testifies to it. For Zeus the cloud-gatherer begot Hermes the King, and Hermes begot Pan the goatherd.
§ 230 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM: Traveler, drink not here in the solitude this warm water so full of mud from the torrent, but go a little farther over this hill whereon the heifers are grazing, and by the shepherds* pine there thou wilt find a fountain bubbling up through the generous rock, colder than the snow from the north.
§ 231 ANYTE On a Statue of Pan
A. “WHY, rural Pan, thus seated in the lonesome shadowy wood, dost thou sound this sweet-voiced reed-pipe?” B. “So that the heifers may graze over these dewy mountains, cropping the luxurious tresses of the herbage.”2
§ 232 SIMONIDES On the Statue of Pan erected by Miltiades
Miltiades erected me, goat-footed Pan, the Arcadian, the foe of the Medes, the friend of the Athenians.
§ 233 THEAETETUS SCHOLASTICUS On the same
The walker in the woods, the lover of the trees, the spouse of Echo who dwells on the hills, I, Pan, the scout, the keeper of the homed flock of sheep, Pan with the shaggy legs, the fruitful god, I who, leaving my home, ran to meet the warlike Assyrians in battle, stand here set up by Miltiades, as his fellow-soldier and pursuer of the Persians, in return for my unsummoned succour. Let others stand on citadels, but Marathon, which slew the Medes, is the common portion of myself and the men who fought at Marathon.
§ 234 PHILODEMUS: The stone has place for three immortals; for the head clearly shows me to be goat-horned Pan, the breast and belly tell I am Heracles, the rest of the thighs and the legs are the portion of wing-footed Hermes. Refuse me not a sacrifice, stranger, for thy one sacrifice will earn the thanks of the three gods.
§ 235 APOLLONIDES OF SMYRNA On a Statue of Pan
I AM the country-folk’s god. Why do you shed for me offerings from cups of gold, and pour me out strong Italian wine, and bind to the stone the curved necks of bulls? Spare your pains; I take no pleasure in such sacrifices. I, Pan, the dweller on the mountains, carved from a tree-trunk, am a feaster on mutton, and drink my must from a bowl of clay.
§ 236 LEONIDAS On a Statue of Priapus
Here on the garden wall did Dinomenes set me up, wakeful Priapus, to guard his greens. But look, thief, how excited I am. And is this, you say, all for the sake of a few greens? For the sake of these few.
§ 237 TYMNES On the same
I BEHAVE like Priapus to everyone, even be he Cronos, so little distinction do I make between thieves here beside this kitchen-garden. Someone will tell me it is not meet for me to say this for the sake of greens and pumpkins. It is not meet, but I say it.
§ 238 LUCIAN On the same
Eutychides set me, Priapus, here in vain, for the sake of convention, to guard his dried-up vines; and there is a high cliff all round me. Whoever attacks me has nothing to steal but myself, the guardian.
§ 239 APOLLONIDES On the same
Anaxagoras set me up here, a Priapus not standing on my feet, but resting both knees on the ground. Phylomachus made me; but seeing lovely Charito1 standing beside me, you will seek no longer why I fell on my knees.
§ 240 PHILIPPUS On the same
A (a traveller). I see the figs are ripe. Won’t you let me take a few? B (Priapus). Don’t touch a single one. A. How angry Priapus is! B. You will say so still, and you will have come to no purpose. A. Indeed, I beseech you. B. Give me; for I, too, am in want of something. A. What! do you want anything from me? B. There is a law, I think, “Give and take.” A. Even though you are a god, are you greedy for money? B. It is another thing that I am fond of. A. What is that? B. If you eat my figs, give me with a good grace that fig you have behind.
§ 241 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS “It is ripe.” “I know that myself as well as you, traveller. Stop praising the fig, and keep your eyes off the branch near you. I, Priapus the warden, am very sharp-eyed, and keep proper watch over the figs; and if you even touch a fig you shall give me a fig, for equality in all things is most just”
§ 242 ERYCIUS On the same
How heavy and well-hardened, Priapus, is this weapon, which springs all of it from thy loins, not unready for marriage ! Thou art athirst for women, my friend, and all thy heart is swollen with desire. But appease this swollen organ and hide it under a flowered robe, for thou dost not dwell on a lonely mountain, but guardest holy Lampsacus by the shore of the Hellespont.
§ 243 ANTISTIUS On the same
I STAND here the guardian of the farm in the rich field, watching over Phricon’s hut and his plants, and to everyone I say this, “When you have done laughing at the sight of me with this appendage, go your way. But if you transgress and do what is unlawful, your hairy face will not help you; I know how to pierce all.”
§ 244 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS On a Painting of a Satyr holding a Reed-Pipe to his Ear as if it were Listening
“Does thy pipe, little Satyr, send forth sound of its own accord, or why dost thou bend thine ear and put it to the reed?” But the Satyr smiled and spoke not; perchance he would have uttered words, but his delight held him in forgetfulness. For it was not the wax that hindered him, but he chose of his own will to be silent, turning his whole soul to his occupation with the pipe.
§ 245 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Statue of a Satyr
DIONYSUS, seeing the Satyr in such pain, and pitying him, made him into stone, but not even so did he cease from his anguish ill to bear; but even though he be stone he still suffers, the luckless creature.
§ 246 ANONYMOUS On Another
Either a Satyr secretly entered the bronze, or the bronze, compelled by art, poured itself round a Satyr.
§ 247 NILUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Satyr in Mosaic at Antioch
A. All Satyrs are fond of jeering, but tell me, thou too, why, looking at everyone, dost thou pour forth this laughter? Β. I laugh because I marvel how, being put together out of all kinds of stones, I suddenly became a Satyr.
§ 248 PLATO (THE YOUNGER) On a Satyr chased on a Cup
Diodorus did not engrave this Satyr, but sent him to sleep. Prod him and you will wake him up: the silver is asleep.
§ 249 ANONYMOUS O: Thou who lookest on this lovely statue, seat thee near it and worship Aphrodite; and praise Glycera, the daughter of Dionysius, who set me up as an offering by the soft waves of the purple shore.
§ 250 ANONYMOUS On Love
See how winged Love is breaking the winged thunderbolt, showing that there is a fire stronger than fire.
§ 251 ANONYMOUS On Eros and Anteros
Who fashioned a winged Love and set him opposite winged Love? Nemesis, taking vengeance on the bow with the bow, that he may suffer what he did; and he, the bold boy never daunted before, is crying as he tastes the bitter arrows, and thrice he spits in the deep folds of his bosom ! 3 Oh, most marvellous ! One shall burn fire with fire, Love has touched Love to the quick.
§ 252 ANONYMOUS On the same
I, TOO, am of the blood of Cypris, and my mother exhorted me to take my bow and take wing against my brother.
§ 253 Anonymous On a Picture of unarmed Artemis
A. ARTEMIS, where are thy bow and the quiver that hung from thy neck? Where are thy Cretan hunting-boots and the buckle wrought of gold that gathers up thy purple robe as high as thy knee?
B. That is the armour I don for the chase, but to my sacrifices I go as I am, to meet the holy incense cloud.
§ 254 Anonymous On a Statue of Hermes by the Roadside
Men who pass by me have heaped up a pile of stones sacred to Hermes, and I, in return for their small kindness, give them no great thanks, but only say that it is seven stadia more to Goat Fountain.
§ 255 ANONYMOUS On another Hermes guarding a Garden
WAYFARER, come not near the vines, nor yet the apples, nor where the medlars grow, but pass me by there along the rope, so as not to disturb or break off any of these things which the gardener Midon got with labour. He it was who set me up here, but if thou give not ear to me, thou shalt know how Hermes rewards wicked men.
§ 256 Anonymous On another Hermes
The place where I dwell is steep and desert, traveller; it is no fault of mine, but of Archelochus who set me up. For Hermes, Sir, is no lover of the mountains, no dweller on the hill-tops, but rather takes delight in roads; but Archelochus, being himself a lover of solitude and without neighbours, settled me, O passer by, beside him, making me even as he is.
§ 257 Anonymous On Dionysus
Lo ! from the fire1 for the second time, Dionysus, thou hast appeared in bronze. Myro gave thee a second birth.
§ 258 Anonymous On Pan
In the fane of Dictynna, where blaze the altar fires, did the Cretan erect me such as you see me in bronze, goat-footed Pan. I wear a skin and carry two hare-staves, and from the cave in the rock gaze with both eyes at the hill.
§ 259 ANONYMOUS On the Statue of Pan on the Athenian Acropolis
On the citadel of Pallas did the Athenians set me up, trophy-bearing Pan wrought of Parian marble.
§ 260 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of Priapus
If I, Priapus, see you stepping near the kale, you thief, I will uncover your nakedness by the kale-bed itself. You will say that this is a shameful duty for a god to have. I know myself that it is shameful, but I would have you know that for this purpose I was set up.
§ 261 LEONIDAS On PRIAPUS
I, Priapus, stand as a guardian at the meeting of the roads, my club standing straight out from my thighs. For Theocritus set me up to serve him faithfully. But keep your distance, Sir thief, lest you weep, receiving the thing you see.
§ 262 ANONYMOUS: Goat-footed Pan with the wine-skin on his shoulder, and the Nymphs, and lovely Danae, are all by Praxiteles. They are all of marble, and the hands that wrought them were supremely skilled. Momus himself will cry out “Father Zeus, this was perfect skill.”
§ 263 Anonymous On NEMESIS
The Persians first brought me here, a stone to use for setting up the trophy of their victory, but now I am Nemesis. I stand here for both, a trophy of their victory for the Greeks, and for the Persians the Nemesis of war.
§ 264 Anonymous On a Procession to Isis
To Isis, parent of crops, mother of the corn, thousand-shaped, in a stone basket without the toiling plough, go of their own accord the fruits of the field, even to their mother.
§ 264A Anonymous: To the Nymphs is this statue dedicated, and the place is their care. Yea, may it be their care that a constant stream flow from the fountain.
§ 265 Anonymous On Momus
Who with blameless hands fashioned Momus (Blame) the thrice accurst, who mourns at all good things? How the old man, like one alive throwing himself on the ground, seeks to find rest from his sorrows, his limbs heavy to him. They tell who he is, that deadly double row of teeth gnashing at the good fortune of the neighbours, that wasted burden of a body; on one of his senile hands he rests his bald head, and with the other, grinning sardonically, he plants his staff on the ground, quarrelling aimlessly with the lifeless rock.
§ 266 ANONYMOUS On the same
Waste away, starting from thy wretched nails, all-devouring Momus; waste and gnash thy poisoned jaws. They tell who thou art, those stretched sinews and the veins of thy limbs, and their dying strength devoid of flesh, and the harsh locks that hang over thy wrinkled forehead (one line missing). Tell me, who fashioned thee so, the living plague of men, not leaving a place for thy teeth to fasten on?
§ 267 SYNESIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Picture of Hippocrates
A. FROM whence was he who placed thee here? B. A Byzantine.
A. And his name? B. Eusebius.
A. And who art thou? B. Hippocrates of Cos. A. And why did he paint thee? B. In return for his discourses the city gave him the privilege of making my picture.
A. And why did he not paint his own portrait? B. Because, by honouring me instead of himself, he gains greater glory.
§ 268 ANONYMOUS: In Praise of the same
Either Apollo wrote thy words, Hippocrates, or thou art the witness of his healing power.
§ 269 ANONYMOUS On the same
This is he who opened the secret paths of medicine, the divine healer of men, Hippocrates of Cos.
§ 270 MAGNUS THE PHYSICIAN On a Portrait of Galen
There was a time, Galen, when, owing to thee, Earth received men mortal and reared them in immortality. The halls of tearful Acheron were bereaved by the force of thy healing hand.
§ 271 ANONYMOUS On Sosander, the Veterinary Surgeon
Thou wast the healer of men, Hippocrates, but thou of horses too, Sosander, learned in the secrets of medicine. Either exchange your professions or your names. The one should not be named from the art of which the other was the master.
§ 272 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Picture of the Physician Iamblichus
This is Iamblichus, sweetest among men, who reached old age without knowing the converse of Aphrodite; but practising medicine and teaching his skill to others, he did not hold out his hand to receive even righteous gain.
§ 273 CRINAGORAS On a Picture of the Physician Praxagoras
The son of Phoebus himself, anointing his hand with juice of the all-healing herb, rubbed into thy breast, Praxagoras, the pain-stilling science of medicine. Therefore thou knowest from gentle Hepione herself all woes that spring from long fevers, and what drugs it is fitting to lay on flesh cut by the knife. Had mortals had sufficient of such healers, the boat heavy with the dead would never have crossed the ferry.
§ 274 ANONYMOUS On Oribasius the Physician
This is the great physician of the Emperor Julian, divine Oribasius, right worthy of this pious gift; for he had a wise mind like a bee, gathering from this place and that the flowers of former physicians.
§ 275 POSIDIPPUS On a Statue of Time by Lysippus
A. Who and whence was the sculptor? B. From Sicyon. A. And his name? B. Lysippus. A. And who art thou? B. Time, who subdueth all things. A. Why dost thou stand on tip-toe? B. I am ever running. A. And why hast thou a pair of wings on thy feet? Β. I fly with the wind. A. And why dost thou hold a razor in thy right hand? B. As a sign to men that I am sharper than any sharp edge. A. And why does thy hair hang over thy face? B. For him who meets me to take me by the forelock. A. And why, in Heaven’s name, is the back of thy head bald? B. Because none whom I have once raced by on my winged feet will now, though he wishes it sore, take hold of me from behind. A. Why did the artist fashion thee? B. For your sake, stranger, and he set me up in the porch as a lesson.
§ 276 BIANOR On a Statue of Arion
Periander set up here this statue of Arion and the dolphin of the sea that swum together with him when he was perishing. The story says of Arion, “We are killed by men and saved by fish.”
§ 277 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS On a Picture of a Female Lyrist in Constantinople
The painting does not justly show thy beauty, and would it had had the power to portray the sweet tones of thy melodious mouth, so that our eyes and ears might have been equally entranced by thy face and thy lyre-playing.
§ 278 BY the same On the Picture of Maria the Singer and Lyrist
She has the plectrum of the lyre, she has also the plectrum of love, and she beats with one the heart, with the other the lyre. Pitiable are they to whom her mind does not unbend, but he whom she favours is a second Anchises, a second Adonis. And if, O stranger, it is thy wish to hear her celebrated name and her country, she is Maria of Alexandria.
§ 279 ANONYMOUS On the Lyre-playing Stone at Megara
As thou passest by Nisaea remember me, the musical stone; for when Alcathous was building his towered wall, then Phoebus lifted on his shoulder the building stone, laying down his Delphian lyre in me. Hence I am a lyrist; strike me with a small pebble and get evidence of what I boast.
§ 280 ANONYMOUS On a Bath
With the money of Agathon did the people of Tegea build the bath here, a marvel to future generations too.
§ 281 ANONYMOUS On a Bath at Praenetus in Bithynia
What is now a bath was formerly no bath, but a rubbish ground, a place of excretion; but now it excels in splendour those delightful and lovely baths of which all men sing the praises. For Alexander, the bishop of Nicaea, the star of illustrious learning, built it at his own expense.
§ 282 PALLADAS: Here we are, the Victories, the laughing maidens, bringing vic-tories to the city that loveth righteousness. Those to whom the city is dear painted us, fashioning us in such forms as are proper to Victories.
§ 283 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS On a Painting of a Dancing Girl
Rhodoclea is the tenth Muse and fourth Grace, the delight of men, the glory of the city. Her eyes and her feet are swift as the wind, and her skilled fingers are better than both Muses and Graces.
§ 284 BY THE SAME On another Picture of a Dancing Girl in the Sosthenion
I AM Helladia of Byzantium, and here I stand where the people in spring celebrate the dance, here where the land is divided by the strait; for both continents praised my dancing.
§ 285 BY THE SAME On the Gilded Picture of a Female Lyrist
No one put gold on Anthusa, but the son of Cronos poured himself on her, as once on Danae. But he did not come near her body, for his mind was seized with shame, lest against his will he should consort with one of the Muses.
§ 286 BY THE SAME On the Dancer Helladia
The feminine nature excels in dancing: give way, ye young men! The Muse and Helladia laid down this law, the one because she first invented the rhythm of movement, the other because she reached perfection in the art.
§ 287 BY THE SAME On the same
Someone sung the lay of Hector, a new tune, and Helladia, donning a chlamys,accompanied the melody. In the dancing of this goddess of war there was both desire and terror, for with virile strength she mingled feminine grace.
§ 288 BY THE SAME On a Picture of the Dancer Libania MAIDEN, thou hast thy name from frankincense, thy body is the Graces*, thy spirit is Peitho’s, the cestus of Aphrodite flows from thy waist, but in the dance thou dost frolic like light Eros, attracting all by thy beauty and art.
§ 289 ANONYMOUS On the Dancer Xenophon of Smyrna
We thought we were looking on Bacchus himself when the old man1 lustily led the Maenads in their furious dance, and played Cadmus tripping it in the fall of his years, and the messenger coming from the forest where he had spied on the rout of the Bacchants, and frenzied Agave exulting in the blood of her son. Heavens ! how divine was the man's acting!
§ 290 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA On the Dancer Pylades
Pylades put on the divinity of the frenzied god himself, when from Thebes he led the Bacchants to the Italian stage, a delight and a terror to men, so full by his dancing did he fill all the city with the untempered fury of the demon. Thebes knows but the god who was born of the fire; the heavenly one is this whom we see brought into the world by these hands that can utter everything.
§ 291 ANYTE: To shock-headed Pan and the Nymphs of the sheepfold did the shepherd Theodotus set this his gift here under the hill, because, when he was sore tired by the parching summer heat, they refreshed him, holding out to him sweet water in their hands.
§ 292 ANONYMOUS On the two Homeric Poems
HOMER, son of Meles, thou hast won eternal glory for Hellas and thy fatherland Colophon, and these two daughters didst thou beget by thy divine soul, writing from thy heart the twain tablets. The one sings the many wanderings of Odysseus in his homecoming, and the other the Trojan War.
§ 293 ANONYMOUS On Homer
Who wrote on his pages the Trojan War, and who the long wanderings of the son of Laertes? I cannot be certain about his name or his city. Heavenly Zeus, can it be that Homer gets the glory of thine own poems?
§ 294 ANONYMOUS On the same
Or what country shall we record Homer to be a citizen, the man to whom all cities reach out their hands? Is it not the truth that this is unknown, but the hero, like an immortal, left as a heritage to the Muses the secret.of his country and race?
§ 295 ANONYMOUS On the same
It was not the plain of Smyrna that gave birth to divine Homer; no, nor Colophon, the star of delicate Ionia; not Chios, nor fruitful Egypt, nor holy Cyprus, nor the rocky island that was the home of the son of Laertes, nor Argos, the land of Danaus, and Cyclops-built Mycenae, nor the city of the ancient sons of Cecrops. No, he was not Earth’s work, but the Muses sent him from the sky to bring desirable gifts to the creatures of a day.
§ 296 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On the same
Some say, Homer, that thy nurse was Colophon, some lovely Smyrna, some Chios, some Ios; while some proclaim fortunate Salamis, and some Thessaly, mother of the Lapiths, some this place, some that, to be the land that brought thee to the birth. But if I may utter openly the wise prophecies of Phoebus, great Heaven is thy country, and thy mother was no mortal woman, but Calliope.
§ 297 ANONYMOUS On the same
Seven cities claim to be the root of Homer: Cyme, Smyrna, Chios, Colophon, Pylos, Argos, Athens.
§ 298 ANONYMOUS On the same
Seven cities strive for the learned root of Homer: Smyrna, Chios, Colophon, Ithaca, Pylos, Argos, Athens.
§ 299 ANONYMOUS On the same
A. WAST thou a Chian? Β. I say No. A. What then, a Smyrnian? Β, I deny it. A. Was either Cyme or Colophon thy native place, Homer? B. Neither.
A. Was Salamis thy city? B. No, I do not spring from her either. A. But tell me thyself where thou wast born. Β. I will not. A. Wherefore? Β. I know for sure that if I tell the truth, I shall make the other cities my enemies.
§ 300 ANONYMOUS On the same
Thou art besung, Homer, for all ages and from all ages for having won thee the glory of the heavenly Muse. For thou didst sing the wrath of Achilles and the confusion of the Greek ships whirled hither and thither on the sea, and Odysseus, the subtle-minded, worn out by his wanderings, the husband that Penelope rejoiced to see again.
§ 301 ANONYMOUS On the same
If Homer be a god, let him be honoured as one of the gods; but if again he be not a god, let him be believed to be a god.
§ 302 ANONYMOUS On the same
Nature produced him; she produced him by a mighty effort, and after bearing him she ceased from her labour, having spent all her care on Homer alone.
§ 303 ANONYMOUS On the same
Who has not heard of the mighty voice of Homer? What land, what sea, does not know of the Grecian battle? The people of the Cimmerians, lacking the rays of the all-seeing Sun, has heard the name of Troy; Atlas has heard it, Atlas on whose shoulders broad-bosomed heaven rests.
§ 304 ANONYMOUS On the same
By telling the burnt city’s story, Homer, thou hast allowed unsacked cities to envy her fate.
§ 305 ANTIPATER OF SIDON On a Portrait of Pindar
As much as the trumpet out-peals the fawn-bone flute, so much does thy lyre out-ring all others. It was not idly, Pindar, that that swarm of bees fashioned the honeycomb about thy tender lips. I call to witness the horned god of Arcady, who chanted one of thy hymns and forgot his reed-pipe.
§ 306 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM On a Statue of Anacreon
Look at old Anacreon, loaded profusely with wine, in a distorted attitude on the rounded basis. See how the greybeard, with a swimming leer in his amorous eyes, trails the robe that descends to his ankles. As one stricken by wine he has lost one of his two shoes, but in the other his wrinkled foot is fast. He is singing either of lovely Bathyllus or of Megisteus, holding uplifted in his hand his lovelorn lyre. But, father Dionysus, guard him; it is not meet that the servant of Bacchus fall by the hand of Bacchus.
§ 307 BY THE SAME (?) On the same
Look how old Anacreon stumbles from drunkenness and trails the mantle that falls down to his feet. In spite of all he keeps one of his slippers on, but has lost the other. Striking his lyre, he sings either of Bathyllus or beautiful Megisteus. Save the old man, Bacchus, from falling.
§ 308 EUGENES On the same
BACCHUS, thou hast betrayed by thy liquid nectar, his delight, Anacreon, the companion of the honeyed Loves, the swan of Teos. For his leering glance, and the edge of his mantle hanging about his ankles, and his single sandal, tell that he is drunk with wine; but yet his lyre plays continually the hymn to the Loves. Keep the old man from falling, O Bacchus.
§ 309 ANONYMOUS On the same
Thou seest me, the old man of Teos never sated by loves, singing alike to young men and to maidens. But my eyes are heavy with wine, and I bear from my revelling the pleasant signs of sleepless night-festivals.
§ 310 DAMOCHARIS On a Picture of Sappho
Nature herself, the creative artist, gave thee, painter, the Muse of Mytilene to portray. Her eyes overflow with brightness, and this clearly shows a fancy full of happy images. Her skin, naturally smooth and not too highly coloured (?), reveals her simplicity, and the mingled gaiety and gravity of her face announces the union in her of the Muse and Cypris.
§ 311 ANONYMOUS On Oppians Halieutics
OPPIAN, collecting in his pages the tribes that swim the sea, served to all young men a dish of fish infinite in variety.
§ 312 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of George
Queen Calliope, when she saw George, said, “This, not Zeus, is my real father.”
§ 313 ANONYMOUS On a Statue of the Rhetor Ptolemy at Antioch
A. Statue, who created thee? B. Eloquence.
A. Whose art thou? B. Ptolemy's. A. Which?
B. The Cretan’s. A. Because of what? B. For merit. A. What kind of merit? B. All kinds. A. To whom? B. To lawyers. A. And does a wooden statue satisfy you? B. Yes, Ptolemy accepts no gold.
§ 314 ARABIUS SCHOLASTICUS: The city could have afforded a golden statue for Longinus if august Justice did not loathe gold.
§ 315 THOMAS SCHOLASTICUS: I love three stars of Rhetoric, because they alone are the best of all rhetoricians. I love thy works, Demosthenes, but I am also a great lover of both Aristides and Thucydides.
§ 316 MICHAEL THE GRAMMARIAN On a Portrait of Agathias Scholasticus
The city, with the regard of a mother to her son, figured here Agathias the rhetor and verse-writer, admiring the harmony of his eloquence in both respects, giving him the portrait as a testimony of its love and his own literary skill; and with him it set up portraits of Memnonius, his father, and of his brother, representatives of a most venerable family.
§ 317 PALLADAS: Looking here on Gessius, dumb and speechless, if he be of stone, tell by thy sooth, Delian Apollo, which is the stone statue of which.
§ 318 ANONYMOUS On the Portrait of a Dull Rhetor
Who painted thee who speakest not in the character of a rhetor? Thou art silent, and dost not speak: nothing more lifelike.
§ 319 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of the Rhetor Marinus
Portraits are an honour dear to men, but for Marinus a portrait is an insult, as it exhibits the uncomeliness of his form.
§ 320 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of the Rhetor Aristides
Aristides put an end to the ancient quarrel that the cities of Ionia had about Homer’s parentage. For they all say, “It was Smyrna who gave birth to divine Homer, even she who bore likewise the rhetor Aristides.”
§ 321 ANONYMOUS: The portrait is that of the rhetor Callistus, and pour a libation, ye who pass by it, to Hermes, the god of eloquence.
§ 322 ANONYMOUS: Phyrmus set up the portrait of Phyrmus, the fire-bearer the fire-bearer’s, the son the father’s, the rhetor the rhetor’s.
§ 323 MESOMEDES On the Invention of Glass
The workman having quarried it, brought the glass and put in the fire the mass hard as iron, and the glass, set afire by the all-devouring flames, ran out melted like wax. And to men it was a marvel to see a trail flowing from the fire, and the workman trembling lest it should fall and break; and on the points of the double forceps he put the lump.
§ 324 ANONYMOUS: I, THE pencil, was silver when I came from the fire, but in thy hands I have become golden likewise. So, charming Leontion, hath Athena well gifted thee with supremacy in art, and Cypris with supremacy in beauty.
§ 325 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT On a Statue of Pythagoras
The sculptor wished to portray not that Pythagoras who explained the versatile nature of numbers, but Pythagoras in discreet silence. Perhaps he has hidden within the statue the voice that he could have rendered if he chose.
§ 326 ANONYMOUS On a Picture of the same
The painter drew the very image of Pythagoras, and you would have seen him with his voice, too, had Pythagoras wished to speak.
§ 327 JOANNES BARBOCALLUS On a Picture of Socrates
How wise was the painter! He did not put life into the wax, doing this favour to the soul of Socrates.
§ 328 ANONYMOUS PLATO, teaching the mind to walk in the aether, utters words concerning things passing comprehension.
§ 329 ANONYMOUS On a Portrait of Aristotle
This is Aristotle measuring the earth and the starry heavens.
§ 330 ANONYMOUS On the same
Intellect and the soul of Aristotle, the picture of both is the same.
§ 331 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS On a Picture of Plutarch
The valiant sons of Italy set up thy renowned form, Plutarch of Chaeronea, because in thy Parallel Lives thou didst couple the best of the Greeks with the warlike citizens of Rome. But not even thyself couldst write a life parallel to thine own, for thou hast no equal.
§ 332 BY THE SAME On a Statue of Aesop
Thou didst well, old Lysippus, sculptor of Sicyon, in placing the portrait of Samian Aesop in front of the Seven Sages, since they for their part put force, and not persuasion, into their saws, but he, saying the right thing in his wise fables and inventions, playing in serious earnest, persuades men to be sensible. Rough expostulation is to be avoided, but the sweetness of the Samian’s fables makes a pretty bait.
§ 333 ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM On Diogenes
The wallet and cloak and the barley-dough thickened with water, the staff planted before his feet, and the earthenware cup, are estimated by the wise Dog as sufficient for the needs of life, and even in these there was something superfluous; for, seeing the countryman drinking from the hollow of his hand, he said, “Why, thou earthen cup, did I burden myself with thee to no purpose?”
§ 334 By the same On the same
Even brass is aged by time, but not all the ages, Diogenes, shall destroy thy fame, since thou alone didst show to mortals the rule of self-sufficiency and the easiest path of life.
§ 335 Epigrams ON THE STATUES OF ATHLETES IN THE HIPPODROME AT CONSTANTINOPLE
The Emperor and the faction erected the statue of Porphyrius, son of Calchas, loaded with many crowns won by skilled toil, the youngest of all the drivers as well as the best, and winner of as many victories as any. This man’s statue should have been of gold, not of bronze like the others.
§ 336 On the same
Four times before did the people shout distinctly, desiring Porphyrius, the son of Calchas, but he, taking up the reins and his driving belt at the right of the Emperor’s seat, drives, starting from there, urging on his team, and in the middle of his racing career his bronze statue was erected with the first down on his cheeks. If this honour came to him quicker than years, yet it came late after victories won by much labour/after many crowns.
§ 337 On the same
Cytherea was in love with Anchises and Selene with Endymion, and now it seems that Victory is in love with Porphyrius, who, ever changing his own team for that of another driver of his faction, was often crowned in the races that lasted all day without labour on his part, his companion only following him.
§ 338 On the same
Victory gave to thee, Porphyrius, while still young, this honour which time has given to others late in life and grudgingly; for, having counted the performances that won thee many crowns, she found them superior to those of old drivers. Why! did not the rival faction, in admiration of thy glory, applaud thee loudly? Blessed is the most free people of the Blues, to whom our great Emperor granted thee as a gift.
§ 339 On the same
The valiant to the valiant; the wise to the wise; the sons of victory, the Blues, to the son of victory, Porphyrius, erected this statue; for he glories in the two victories he gained by the interchanged teams, the team he gave and the team he received.
§ 340 On the same
To others when they have retired, but to Porphyrius alone while still racing, did the Emperor give this honour. For often he drove his own horses to victory and then took in hand the team of his adversary, and was again crowned. Hence arose a keen rivalry on the part of the Greens, hence a shout of applause for him, O King, who will give joy both to Blues and to Greens.
§ 341 On the same
The votes of all erected near to Victory the statue of me, Porphyrius, while still driving. For my own faction demanded the honour, and the opposite one desired to have me again, renouncing their hostility. I got the best of the other drivers by my cleverness, giving them in exchange for their own better horses, and then showing them to be my inferiors.
§ 342 On the same
The sculptor exactly portrayed in bronze Porphyrius himself, fashioning him as if alive. But who shall mould his grace, his races, the inspired tricks of his craft, and victory that never varied?
§ 343 On the same
In a brazen image the Lord of the Latins set up the victorious driver, strong himself as brass, as being skilled and dear to the Blues; but we shall see many statues yet of Porphyrius erected because of his victories.
§ 344 On the same
A. Who art thou, dear young man, the point of thy chin just marked with down? B. Stranger, I am Porphyrius. A. Thy country? B. Africa. A. Who hath honoured thee? B. The Emperor, on account of my driving. A. Who testifies to it? B. The faction of the Blues. A. Porphyrius, thou shouldst have had Lysippus, a skilled sculptor, to testify to so many victories.
§ 345 On the same
Thou standest near Victory and King Alexander, thou who hast gathered thee the glory of both.
§ 346 On the same
The eye of Fortune ranges over all things, but now the eye of Fortune is attracted to the exploits of Porphyrius alone.
§ 347 On the same
The people, in admiration of thy whirling whip and thy shield, was minded to set thee up in two aspects as was fitting, as a strong driver and a strong warrior; but the bronze, forming itself like thy soul, would not flow in two streams.
§ 348 On the same
Why did the distinguished faction of the Greens erect on the course the statue of the charioteer Porphyrius? The Emperor himself issued the order. What could he do but honour him in view of his good will to him and of his skill as a driver?
§ 349 On the same
Our Sovereign Lord, who grants this favour to the Greens, gave to Porphyrius after the races an honour worthy of his performances. For often the people, their attention turned to exploits more than usually brilliant, praised Calliopas1 and again Porphyrius, the two names that belonged to this brazen hero, who won the meed of valour in the chariot-races.
§ 350 On the same ·
Not only did divine Victory crown thee on the race-course, but in war, too, she showed thee to be victorious, then when the Emperor, with the Greens to assist him, warred with the furiously raging enemy of the throne; when the savage tyrant2 fell, as Rome was on the point of perishing, and the light of Latin liberty came back. Therefore the Monarch gave to the Greens the privileges they formerly had, and the artist wrought and polished thy image, Porphyrius.
§ 351 On the same
The crowns from the hostile faction too, Porphyrius, are unimpeachable witnesses of thy exploits. For ever in the race thou conquerest one after the other all the rival charioteers, a mere toy for thy skilled hands. Therefore hast thou alone gained an unwonted mark of honour, a bronze statue in the grounds of each faction.
§ 352 On the same
The sculptor made the bronze like unto the charioteer, but would that he could have fashioned also the vastness of his skill, its vastness and beauty, a thing that when Nature brought forth late in her life she swore, “I cannot travail again/* She swore it with truthful lips, for to Porphyrius first and alone she gave all her gifts.
§ 353 On the same
If envy could be at rest and chose1 to judge the contests, all men testify to the achievements of Porphyrius. Yea, perchance they would say after reckoning up his races, “That is a slender reward for so much exertion.** For, having gathered into one all the separate qualities which adorn each driver, he showed himself to be the great man he is.
§ 354 On the same
Thrice-desired Porphyrius, the city reverencing thee honours thee with a bronze statue. She would have wished it to be gold, but Nemesis was before her eyes. But if thy well-wishers, the faction of the Greens, never cease celebrating thy wonted victories, they are every man of them living statues in thy honour, and all gold is worthless in comparison with them.
§ 355 On the same
Not yet has Fortune worthily rewarded thy hard-won victories, for thy victories are greater than the prizes that have fallen to thee. But remain now in this, the first of the factions, the more constant and more excellent, consuming the envious hearts of our enemies, who, seeing thy whip ever victorious, never cease to blame their own recklessness.
§ 356 On the same
Time is the cause of the honours of others, and those who are judged worthy of them, owing to their victories, do not lack grey hairs, but lack that virtue on which glory depends. Porphyrius alone twice gained the splendour of such gifts, not boasting many decades of years, but many hundreds of victories, and all of them akin to the Graces.
§ 357 LEONTIUS SCHOLASTICUS On the same
Cytherea loved Anchises, and Selene Endymion, so it is fabled by men of old time. But now a new fable shall be sung, that Victory, it seems, fell in love with the eyes and chariot of Porphyrius.
§ 358 On the same under his other name, Calliopas
When a youth thou didst conquer thy elders, and now, in thy later years, thou conquerest the young drivers of racing four-horse chariots. Having accomplished thy six decades of years, thou hast won, Calliopas, a statue for thy victories, by command of the Emperor, so that thy renown may abide for future ages. Would that thy body were as immortal as thy renown.
§ 359 On the same
Victory, the charioteer, dedicated to thee, Calliopas, this brazen image of thy divine form, because in thy old age thou didst conquer men in the prime of youth by thy force in subduing horses, and in thy youth didst conquer thy elders by skill. Hence the faction of the Blues, the children of liberty, erected two prizes for thee, one for thy art and the other for thy force.
§ 360 On the same
Thy old age has surpassed thy youth in victories, and thou didst ever overcome all, Calliopas. Therefore do the Emperor and this free faction again raise this honour for thee, a monument of thy skill and valour.
§ 361 On the same
O Calliopas, thou who raisest applause in the theatre, this is thy portrait which a swarm of much-envied crowns raises to thee. For neither did any charioteer cozen thee, nor did any hard-mouthed horse’s jaws refuse to obey thy reins. Alone hast thou gained the reward of victory; verily the opinion of all is that by contending thou leavest prizes for others.
§ 362 On the same
O Calliopas, celebrated for thy achievements, what does it profit thee that thy labours are rewarded with a bronze statue by the Emperor, by this myriad-throated faction, by the whole city, considering that even the hands of the hostile faction applauded thy exploits?
§ 363 On Faustinas
Wits are the mothers of a winner’s honours, not the force of youth, nor swift driving, nor favourable occasion. May thy mind, Faustinus, be propitious, which takes precedence of all these things, and whose companion is immortal Victory.
§ 364 On the same
Formerly in thy youth, Faustinus, the minds of the old men feared thee, and now the strength of the young men trembles before thine in thy advanced years. The first place was ever gained for thee by thy toil, which brings honour to thee, an old man among the youths, a youth among the old men.
§ 365 On Constantinus
Since Constantinus entered the house of Hades the race-course is full of despondency, and pleasure has abandoned the spectators, nor even in the streets does one see the old friendly strife.
§ 366 On the same
The citizens, mourning thee, erected thy image, Constantinus, to be a delight to thy departed spirit. When the people confirmed thy fame on thy death, the Emperor, too, was mindful of thy exertions after thy decease, because the abusive 2 art of driving has perished, ceasing finally with thee as it began with thee.
§ 367 On the same
While Constantinus yet lived, the city deemed a bronze statue a small reward for him, for the whole people knew how many crowns in his long racing career he had set on his head because of glorious Victory. But when he died, in regret for him, it erected this his dear form, so that posterity, too, should be kept mindful of his achievements.
§ 368 On the same
The Blues and Greens, always at variance, shouted aloud one concordant decision, that thou, Constantinus, shouldst have on thy tomb this ornament, acclaimed by all, pleasing to all.
§ 369 On the same
Immortal Constantinus, thy course, high in the light, has traversed the boundaries of east, west, south, and north. Let none say thou art dead, for even Hades cannot lay his hand on the invincible.
§ 370 On the same
THIS, his statue, has been placed near those of his own family, for it was proper that they should stand in one place, the three who won equal glory for their skill in the race, gaining equal swarms of innumerable crowns.
§ 371 On the same
Here the city erected Constantinus, son of Faustinus, next his own family, the best of all charioteers. For through all the long time he raced he never failed, but ended by a victory, as he had formerly begun by a victory. When he was a young man the older drivers who had won crowns on the course appointed him president of the races.
§ 372 On the same
This is a gift for thee, Constantinus, from thy nurse, Victory, who hath followed thee from thy childhood all through thy life. For in the five times ten years thou didst pass on the race-course thou didst never light on thy equal, or even on one a little inferior to thee; but while yet a lad and beardless thou didst conquer men, when grown up thou didst conquer those of thine age, and in thine old age the young men.
§ 373 On the same
The city wished Constantinus to wield the reins for ever; she wished it, but Nature refused to grant her desire. Therefore she bethought her of erecting this statue to console her for her lost love, that time and oblivion should not envelop him, but that he might remain, the desire of his lovers, the envy of charioteers, an ornament to the course, and a tale for future generations to tell; and that one in time to come, looking on inferior drivers, should bless the former age that looked on him.
§ 374 On the same
Constantinus having won five-and-twenty races on one morning, changed his team with his rival’s, and taking the same horses that he had formerly beaten, won twenty-one times with them. Often there was a great strife between the two factions as to which was to have him, and they gave him two robes to choose from.
§ 375 On the same
AWAKE, Constantinus! Why dost thou sleep the brazen sleep? The people long to see thy team on the course, and the charioteers, lacking thy instruction, sit just like orphaned children.
§ 376 On Uranius
URANIUS, who had distinguished himself in the service of both the factions, gained glory from both while still driving. His first reward came from the Greens, and stands near their stand. They also, when he had retired from racing, brought him back again to the chariots, mindful of his former victory.
§ 377 On the same
The Emperor, when Uranius had retired from the race-course after gaining splendid victories, made him mount again his victorious chariot, doing a favour to all the factions; for the city has no desire for the races without Uranius. Therefore, admiring him for his first victories and his last, the city erected his statue during the second period of his career.
§ 378 On the same
Uranius has Nicea and New Rome near him, being native of one and having gained glory in the other. He wins from both sides, because he was very clever at dashing forward and getting past on both sides of the course. Therefore did they portray him in golden metal, the precious charioteer in the most precious of possessions.
§ 379 THOMAS On Anastasias
Beneath this earth lies Anastasius the bold driver, mindful no more of the chariot-race, he who of old set on his head as many crowns as were the racing days that other charioteers saw.
§ 380 On Porphyrius, of the faction of the Blues
PORPHYRIUS, the wonder of the Blues, having conquered every charioteer on earth does well to rise and race towards heaven. for he, victorious over every driver here below, mounts to join the sun on its course.
§ 381 On the same
This Porphyrius, son of Calchas, with the first down on his cheeks, held the reins for the faction of the Blues. I marvel how some artist’s hand has painted his horses as if alive. Really, if he whips them again, I think he will be carried again to victory.
§ 382 On Faustinas, of the faction of the Greens
Look on the work of the architect of this house. For if it had not been covered by a strong roof Faustinus, the ancient glory of the Greens, would have mounted racing to heaven, so like the life are he and his team. Take the roof off and he will reach the sky.
§ 383 On the same
This is Faustinus, the former charioteer, after engaging whom the faction of the Greens never knew what defeat was in the race. He was old, as you see, but in his strength he was as a young man, and was never once vanquished.
§ 384 On Constantinus, the Charioteer of the Whites
CONSTANTINUS, wielding the reins of the White faction, were he not restrained by the solidity of the house, would conquer those three, getting to heaven first. You would see him mount the heavens without breath. The artist persuades me that I see him alive.
§ 385 On the same
Constantinus was his name, but in the old days he skilfully drove the four-horse chariot of the Whites. Since Charon carried him off, it is set, the light of horse-racing and all the delight and art of the theatre.
§ 386 On Julianus, the Charioteer of the Reds
The hand of man knows how to give birth to men long ago dead, for Julianus is as strong here as of old, guiding this way and that the reins of the Red faction. Now he stands painted here on high, himself and his chariot; his hand awaits the signal. Give him a winning-post.
§ 387 On the same
This Julianus, with his car of the Red faction, conquered his adversaries in the race. But if the painter had endued him with breath he is ready again to drive his chariot and come in first, and even take the crown.
§ 388 JULIANUS, PREFECT OF EGYPT
ONCE, weaving a garland, I found Love among the roses, and catching him by the wings dipped him in wine. I took and drank him, and now within me he tickles with his wings.