FOOTNOTES:

οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδὲν μητρὸς ἥδιον τέκνοις.ἐρᾶτε μητρὸς παῖδες· ὡς οὐκ ἔστ' ἔρωςτοιοῦτος ἄλλος οἷος ἡδίων ἐρᾶν.[52]

The sentiment here expressed seems to be contradicted by a fragment from an unknown play (No. 887), where a son tells his mother that he cannot be expected to cling to her as much as to his father. The Greeks, as we gather from theOresteiaof Æschylus, believed that the male offspring was specially related by sympathy, duty, and hereditary qualities to his father. The contrast between women and men in respect to the paternal home is well conveyed in the following four lines:

γυνὴ γὰρ ἐξελθοῦσα πατρῴων δόμωνοὐ τῶν τεκόντων ἐστὶν ἀλλὰ τοῦ λέχους·τὸ δ' ἄρσεν ἕστηκ' ἐν δόμοις ἀεὶ γένοςθεῶν πατρῴων καὶ τάφων τιμάορον.[53]

Some of the most remarkable excerpts from Euripides turn upon the thought of death—a doom accepted by him with magnanimous Greek stoicism. Those which appear to me the most important I have thrown together for convenience of comparison:

τίς δ' οἶδεν εἰ ζῆν τοῦθ' ὁ κέκληται θανεῖν,τὸ ζῆν δὲ θνήσκειν ἐστί; πλὴν ὅμως βροτῶννοσοῦσιν οἱ βλέποντες οἱ δ' ὀλωλότεςοὐδὲν νοσοῦσιν οὐδὲ κέκτηνται κακά.ἐχρῆν γὰρ ἡμᾶς σύλλογον ποιουμένουςτὸν φύντα θρηνεῖν εἰς ὅσ' ἔρχεται κακά,τὸν δ' αὖ θανόντα καὶ πόνων πεπαυμένονχαίροντας εὐφημοῦντας ἐκπέμπειν δόμων.τοὺς ζῶντας εὖ δρᾶν· κατθανὼν δὲ πᾶς ἀνὴργῆ καὶ σκιά· τὸ μηδὲν εἰς οὐδὲν ῥέπει.θάνατος γὰρ ἀνθρώποισι νεικέων τέλοςἔχει· τί γὰρ τοῦδ' ἐστὶ μεῖζον ἐν βροτοῖς;τίς γὰρ πετραῖον σκόπελον οὐτίζων δορὶὀδύναισι δώσει; τίς δ' ἀτιμάζων νέκυς,εἰ μηδὲν αἰσθάνοιντο τῶν παθημάτων;[54]

τίς δ' οἶδεν εἰ ζῆν τοῦθ' ὁ κέκληται θανεῖν,τὸ ζῆν δὲ θνήσκειν ἐστί; πλὴν ὅμως βροτῶννοσοῦσιν οἱ βλέποντες οἱ δ' ὀλωλότεςοὐδὲν νοσοῦσιν οὐδὲ κέκτηνται κακά.

ἐχρῆν γὰρ ἡμᾶς σύλλογον ποιουμένουςτὸν φύντα θρηνεῖν εἰς ὅσ' ἔρχεται κακά,τὸν δ' αὖ θανόντα καὶ πόνων πεπαυμένονχαίροντας εὐφημοῦντας ἐκπέμπειν δόμων.

τοὺς ζῶντας εὖ δρᾶν· κατθανὼν δὲ πᾶς ἀνὴργῆ καὶ σκιά· τὸ μηδὲν εἰς οὐδὲν ῥέπει.

θάνατος γὰρ ἀνθρώποισι νεικέων τέλοςἔχει· τί γὰρ τοῦδ' ἐστὶ μεῖζον ἐν βροτοῖς;τίς γὰρ πετραῖον σκόπελον οὐτίζων δορὶὀδύναισι δώσει; τίς δ' ἀτιμάζων νέκυς,εἰ μηδὲν αἰσθάνοιντο τῶν παθημάτων;[54]

To these should be added the magnificent words of consolation addressed by Dictys, in the tragedy that bears his name, to Danaë:

δοκεῖς τὸν Ἅιδην σῶν τι φροντίζειν γόωνκαὶ παῖδ' ἀνήσειν τὸν σὸν εἰ θέλοις στένειν;παῦσαι· βλέπουσα δ' εἰς τὰ τῶν πέλας κακὰῥᾴων γένοι' ἄν, εἰ λογίζεσθαι θέλοιςὅσοι τε δεσμοῖς ἐκμεμόχθηνται βροτῶν,ὅσοι τε γηράσκουσιν ὀρφανοὶ τέκνων,τούς τ' ἐκ μεγίστης ὀλβίας τυραννίδοςτὸ μηδὲν ὄντας· ταῦτά σε σκοπεῖν χρεών.[55]

Close to the thought of death lies that of endurance; and here is a fragment from theHypsipyle, which might be placed for a motto on the title-page ofEpictetus:

ἔφυ μὲν οὐδεὶς ὅστις οὐ πονεῖ βροτῶν,θάπτει τε τέκνα χἄτερ' αὖ κτᾶται νέα,αὐτός τε θνήσκει, καὶ τάδ' ἄχθονται βροτοὶεἰς γῆν φέροντες γῆν· ἀναγκαίως δ' ἔχειβίον θερίζειν ὥστε κάρπιμον στάχυν,καὶ τὸν μὲν εἶναι τὸν δὲ μή· τί ταῦτα δεῖστένειν, ἅπερ δεῖ κατὰ φύσιν διεκπερᾶν;δεινὸν γὰρ οὐδὲν τῶν ἀναγκαίων βροτοῖς.[56]

On Justice and the punishment of sins we may take the following passages, expressing, with dramatic energy, the intense moral conscience of the Greek race:

δοκεῖτε πηδᾶν τἀδικήματ' εἰς θεοὺςπτεροῖσι, κἄπειτ' ἐν Διὸς δέλτου πτυχαῖςγράφειν τιν' αὐτά, Ζῆνα δ' εἰσορῶντά νινθνητοῖς δικάζειν; οὐδ' ὁ πᾶς ἂν οὐρανὸςΔιὸς γράφοντος τὰς βροτῶν ἁμαρτίαςἐξαρκέσειεν, οὐδ' ἐκεῖνος ἂν σκοπῶνπέμπειν ἑκάστῳ ζημίαν· ἀλλ' ἡ Δίκηἐνταῦθά πού 'στιν ἐγγὺς εἰ βούλεσθ' ὁρᾶν.τήν τοι Δίκην λέγουσι παῖδ' εἶναι Διὸςἐγγύς τε ναίειν τῆς βροτῶν ἁμαρτίας.[57]

τήν τοι Δίκην λέγουσι παῖδ' εἶναι Διὸςἐγγύς τε ναίειν τῆς βροτῶν ἁμαρτίας.[57]

They stand, however, in somewhat curious opposition to a fragment fromBellerophonabout Divine Justice:

φησίν τις εἶναι δῆτ', ἐν οὐρανῷ θεούς;οὐκ εἰσίν, οὐκ εἴσ'. εἴ τις ἀνθρώπων λέγει,μὴ τῷ παλαιῷ μῶρος ὢν χρήσθω λόγῳ.σκέψασθε δ' αὐτὰ μὴ 'πι τοῖς ἐμοῖς λόγοιςγνώμην ἔχοντες· φήμ' ἐγὼ τυραννίδακτείνειν τε πλείστους κτημάτων τ' ἀποστερεῖν,ὅρκους τε παραβαίνοντας ἐκπορθεῖν, πόλεις,καὶ ταῦτα δρῶντες μᾶλλον εἰσ' εὐδαίμονεςτῶν εὐσεβούντων ἡσυχῆ καθ' ἡμέραν·πόλεις τε μικρὰς οἶδα τιμώσας θεοὺςαἳ μειζόνων κλύουσι δυσσεβεστέρωνλόγχης ἀριθμῷ πλείονος κρατούμεναι.[58]

In which of the fragments just quoted was the poet speaking in his own person? In neither, perhaps, fully; partly, perhaps, in both. About wealth he utters in like manner seemingly contradictory oracles:

βίᾳ νυν ἕλκετ' ὦ κακοὶ τιμὰς βροτοὶκαὶ κτᾶσθε πλοῦτον πάντοθεν θηρώμενοισύμμικτα μὴ δίκαια καὶ δίκαι' ὁμοῦ·ἔπειτ' ἀμᾶσθε τῶνδε δύστηνον θέρος.ὦ χρυσέ, δεξίωμα κάλλιστον βροτοῖς,ὡς οὔτε μήτηρ ἡδονὰς τοιάσδ' ἔχειοὐ παῖδες ἀνθρώποισιν οὐ φίλος πατήρ,οἵας σὺ χοἰ σὲ δώμασιν κεκτημένοι.εἰ δ' ἡ Κύπρις τοιοῦτον ὀφθαλμοῖς ὁρᾷοὐ θαῦμ' ἔρωτας μυρίους αὐτὴν τρέφειν.[59]

βίᾳ νυν ἕλκετ' ὦ κακοὶ τιμὰς βροτοὶκαὶ κτᾶσθε πλοῦτον πάντοθεν θηρώμενοισύμμικτα μὴ δίκαια καὶ δίκαι' ὁμοῦ·ἔπειτ' ἀμᾶσθε τῶνδε δύστηνον θέρος.

ὦ χρυσέ, δεξίωμα κάλλιστον βροτοῖς,ὡς οὔτε μήτηρ ἡδονὰς τοιάσδ' ἔχειοὐ παῖδες ἀνθρώποισιν οὐ φίλος πατήρ,οἵας σὺ χοἰ σὲ δώμασιν κεκτημένοι.εἰ δ' ἡ Κύπρις τοιοῦτον ὀφθαλμοῖς ὁρᾷοὐ θαῦμ' ἔρωτας μυρίους αὐτὴν τρέφειν.[59]

In what he says of noble birth Euripides never wavers. The true democrat speaks through his verse, and yet no poet has spoken more emphatically of bravery and honor. We may take the following examples in their order:

εἰς δ' εὐγένειαν ὀλίγ' ἔχω φράσαι καλά·ὁ μὲν γὰρ ἐσθλὸς εὐγενὴς ἔμοιγ' ἀνὴρὁ δ' οὐ δίκαιος κἂν ἀμείνονος πατρὸςΖηνὸς πεφύκῃ δυσγενὴς εἶναι δοκεῖ.ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν οὐκ οἶδ' ὅπως σκοπεῖν χρεὼντὴν εὐγένειαν· τοὺς γὰρ ἀνδρείους φύσινκαὶ τοὺς δικαίους τῶν κενῶν δοξασμάτωνκἂν ὦσι δούλων εὐγενεστέρους λέγω.φεῦ τοῖσι γενναίοισιν ὡς ἁπανταχοῦπρέπει χαρακτὴρ χρηστὸς εἰς εὐψυχίαν.ἅπας μὲν ἀὴρ αἰετῷ περάσιμοςἅπασα δὲ χθὼν ἀνδρὶ γενναίῳ πατρίς.[60]

εἰς δ' εὐγένειαν ὀλίγ' ἔχω φράσαι καλά·ὁ μὲν γὰρ ἐσθλὸς εὐγενὴς ἔμοιγ' ἀνὴρὁ δ' οὐ δίκαιος κἂν ἀμείνονος πατρὸςΖηνὸς πεφύκῃ δυσγενὴς εἶναι δοκεῖ.

ἐγὼ μὲν οὖν οὐκ οἶδ' ὅπως σκοπεῖν χρεὼντὴν εὐγένειαν· τοὺς γὰρ ἀνδρείους φύσινκαὶ τοὺς δικαίους τῶν κενῶν δοξασμάτωνκἂν ὦσι δούλων εὐγενεστέρους λέγω.

φεῦ τοῖσι γενναίοισιν ὡς ἁπανταχοῦπρέπει χαρακτὴρ χρηστὸς εἰς εὐψυχίαν.

ἅπας μὲν ἀὴρ αἰετῷ περάσιμοςἅπασα δὲ χθὼν ἀνδρὶ γενναίῳ πατρίς.[60]

Further to illustrate his conception of true nobility, using for this purpose in particular the fragments of theAntiope, would be easy. It appears throughout that Euripides was bent on contrasting the honor that is won by labor with the pleasures of a lazy life. Against the hedonism which lay so near at hand to pagans in the license of the flesh, the Greeks set up an ideal of glory attainable alone by toil. This morality found expression in the famous lines of Hesiod on ἀρετή, in the action of Achilles, in the proverb πάντα τὰ καλὰ χαλεπά, and in the fable of the choice of Hercules. Euripides varies the theme in his iambics by a hundred modulations:

νεανίαν γὰρ ἄνδρα χρὴ τολμᾶν ἀεί·οὐδεὶς γὰρ ὢν ῥᾴθυμος εὐκλεὴς ἀνήρ.ἀλλ' οἱ πόνοι τίκτουσι τὴν εὐδοξίαν.οὐκ ἔστιν ὅστις ἡδέως ζητῶν βιοῦνεὔκλειαν εἰσεκτήσατ' ἀλλὰ χρὴ πονεῖν.ὁ δ' ἡδὺς αἰὼν ἡ κακή τ' ἀνανδρίαοὔτ' οἶκον οὔτε γαῖαν ὀρθώσειεν ἄν.σὺν μυρίοισι τὰ καλὰ γίγνεται πόνοις.ἐμὲ δ' ἄρ' οὐμοχθεῖν δίκαιον; τίς δ' ἄμοχθος εὐκλεής;τίς τῶν μεγίστων δειλὸς ὢν ὠρέξατο;[61]

νεανίαν γὰρ ἄνδρα χρὴ τολμᾶν ἀεί·οὐδεὶς γὰρ ὢν ῥᾴθυμος εὐκλεὴς ἀνήρ.ἀλλ' οἱ πόνοι τίκτουσι τὴν εὐδοξίαν.

οὐκ ἔστιν ὅστις ἡδέως ζητῶν βιοῦνεὔκλειαν εἰσεκτήσατ' ἀλλὰ χρὴ πονεῖν.

ὁ δ' ἡδὺς αἰὼν ἡ κακή τ' ἀνανδρίαοὔτ' οἶκον οὔτε γαῖαν ὀρθώσειεν ἄν.

σὺν μυρίοισι τὰ καλὰ γίγνεται πόνοις.

ἐμὲ δ' ἄρ' οὐμοχθεῖν δίκαιον; τίς δ' ἄμοχθος εὐκλεής;τίς τῶν μεγίστων δειλὸς ὢν ὠρέξατο;[61]

The political morality deduced from this view of life is stern and noble:

γνώμῃ γὰρ ἀνδρὸς εὖ μὲν οἰκοῦνται πόλεις,εὖ δ' οἶκος, εἴς τ' αὖ πόλεμον ἰσχύει μέγα·σοφὸν γὰρ ἓν βούλευμα τὰς πολλὰς χέραςνικᾷ· σὺν ὄχλῳ δ' ἀμαθία πλεῖστον κακόν.τρεῖς εἰσὶν ἀρεταὶ τὰς χρεών σ' ἀσκεῖν, τέκνον,θεούς τε τιμᾶν τούς τε φύσαντας γονεῖς,νόμους τε κοινοὺς Ἑλλάδος· καὶ ταῦτα δρῶνκάλλιστον ἕξεις στέφανον εὐκλείας ἀεί.[62]

γνώμῃ γὰρ ἀνδρὸς εὖ μὲν οἰκοῦνται πόλεις,εὖ δ' οἶκος, εἴς τ' αὖ πόλεμον ἰσχύει μέγα·σοφὸν γὰρ ἓν βούλευμα τὰς πολλὰς χέραςνικᾷ· σὺν ὄχλῳ δ' ἀμαθία πλεῖστον κακόν.

τρεῖς εἰσὶν ἀρεταὶ τὰς χρεών σ' ἀσκεῖν, τέκνον,θεούς τε τιμᾶν τούς τε φύσαντας γονεῖς,νόμους τε κοινοὺς Ἑλλάδος· καὶ ταῦτα δρῶνκάλλιστον ἕξεις στέφανον εὐκλείας ἀεί.[62]

Nor is the condemnation of mere pleasure-seeking less severe:

ἀνὴρ γὰρ ὅστις εὖ βίον κεκτημένοςτὰ μὲν κατ' οἴκους ἀμελίᾳ παρεὶς ἐᾷ,μολπαῖσι δ' ἡσθεὶς τοῦτ' ἀεὶ θηρεύεται,ἀργὸς μὲν οἴκοις καὶ πόλει γενήσεταιφίλοισι δ' οὐδείς· ἡ φύσις γὰρ οἴχεταιὅταν γλυκείας ἡδονῆς ἥσσων τις ᾖ.[63]

The indifference induced by satiety is well characterized in the following lines:

κόρος δὲ πάντων· καὶ γὰρ ἐκ καλλιόνωνλέκτροις ἐπ' αἰσχροῖς εἶδον ἐκπεπληγμένους.δαιτὸς δὲ πληρωθείς τις ἄσμενος πάλινφαύλῃ διαίτῃ προσβαλὼν ἥσθη στόμα.[64]

In the foregoing specimens no selection has been made of lines remarkable for their æsthetic beauty. This omission is due to Stobæus, who was more bent on extracting moral maxims than strains of poetry comparable with the invocation of Hippolytus to Artemis. Two, however, I have marked for translation on account of their artistic charm; the first for its pretty touch of picturesqueness, the second for its sympathy with sculpture:

πολὺς δ' ἀνεῖρπε κισσὸς εὐφυὴς κλάδοςχελιδόνων μουσεῖον.ἔα· τίν' ὄχθον τόνδ' ὁρῶ περίρρυτονἄφρῳ θαλάσσης, παρθένου τ' εἰκώ τιναἐξ αὐτομόρφων λαΐνων τειχισμάτωνσοφῆς ἄγαλμα χειρός.[65]

πολὺς δ' ἀνεῖρπε κισσὸς εὐφυὴς κλάδοςχελιδόνων μουσεῖον.

ἔα· τίν' ὄχθον τόνδ' ὁρῶ περίρρυτονἄφρῳ θαλάσσης, παρθένου τ' εἰκώ τιναἐξ αὐτομόρφων λαΐνων τειχισμάτωνσοφῆς ἄγαλμα χειρός.[65]

Some passages, worthy of preservation, yet not easily classified, may wind up the series. Here is "Envy, eldest born of hell:"

τίς ἆρα μήτηρ ἢ πατὴρ κακὸν μέγαβροτοῖς ἔφυσε τὸν δυσώνυμον φθόνον;ποῦ καί ποτ' οἰκεῖ σωμάτων λαχὼν μέρος;ἐν χερσὶν ἢ σπλάγχνοισιν ἢ παρ' ὄμματαἔσθ' ἡμίν; ὡς ἦν μόχθος ἰατροῖς μέγαςτομαῖς ἀφαιρεῖν ἢ ποτοῖς ἢ φαρμάκοιςπασῶν μεγίστην τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώποις νόσων.[66]

The next couplet is pregnant with a home-truth which most men have had occasion to feel:

ἅπαντές ἐσμεν εἰς τὸ νουθετεῖν σοφοὶαὐτοὶ δ' ὅταν σφαλῶμεν οὐ γιγνώσκομεν.[67]

The value attached by Greek political philosophers to the ἦθος, or temperament, of states, and their dislike of demagogy, are accounted for in these four lines:

τρόπος ἐστὶ χρηστὸς ἀσφαλέστερος νόμου.τὸν μὲν γὰρ οὐδεὶς ἂν διαστρέψαι ποτὲῥήτωρ δύναιτο, τὸν δ' ἄνω τε καὶ κάτωλόγοις ταράσσων πολλάκις λυμαίνεται.[68]

One single line, noticeable for its weighty meaning, and Euripidean by reason of its pathos, shall end the list:

νέος πόνοις δέ γ' οὐκ ἀγύμναστος φρένας.[69]

The lasting title to fame of Euripides consists in his having dealt with the deeper problems of life in a spirit which became permanent among the Greeks, so that his poems, like those of Menander, never lost their value as expressions of current philosophy. Nothing strikes the student of later Greek literature more strongly than this prolongation of the Euripidean tone of thought and feeling. In the decline of tragic poetry the literary sceptre was transferred to comedy, and the comic playwrights may be described as the true successors of Euripides. The dialectic method, degenerating into sophistic quibbling, which he affected, was indeed dropped, and a more harmonious form of art than the Euripidean was created for comedy by Menander, when the Athenians, after passing through their disputatious period, had settled down into a tranquil acceptation of the facts of life. Yet this return to harmony of form and purity of perception did not abate the influence of Euripides. Here and there throughout his tragedies he had said once and for all, and well said, what the Greeks were bound to think and feel upon important matters, and his sensitive, susceptible temperament repeated itself over and over again among his literary successors. The exclamation of Philemon that, if he could believe in immortality, he would hang himself to see Euripides, is characteristic not only of Philemon, but also of the whole Macedonian period of Greek literature.

FOOTNOTES:[13]Worsley's translation,Iliad, vol. i. p. 154.[14]See vol. i. pp. 91-123.[15]Lo, if thou fain wouldst benefit the dead,Or if thou seek to harm them, 'tis all one;For they can feel no joy nor suffer pain,Nathless high Nemesis is throned above us,And Justice doth exact the dead man's due.[16]See vol. i. pp. 372-435.[17]O Death, the savior, spurn me not, but come!For thou alone of ills incurableArt healer: no pain preyeth on the dead.[18]Alone of gods Death loves not gifts; with himNor sacrifice nor incense aught avails;He hath no altar and no hymns of gladness;Prayer stands aloof from him, Persuasion fails.[19]Love throbs in holy heaven to wound the earth;And love still prompts the land to yearn for bridals;The rain that falls in rivers from the sky,Impregnates earth, and she brings forth for menThe flocks and herds and life of teeming Ceres;The bloom of forests by dews hymenealIs perfected: in all which things I rule.[20]Zeus is the air, Zeus earth, and Zeus wide heaven:Yea, Zeus is all things, and the power above them.[21]This love-disease is a delightful trouble;Well might I shadow forth its power as thus:When the clear, eager frost has fallen, boysSeize with their fingers the firm frozen ice,And first they feel an unaccustomed pleasure,But in the end it melts, and they to leave itOr in their hands to hold it know not how;Even so the same desire drives wilful loversTo do and not to do by frequent changes.[22]Woman, that hast dared all, and more than all!There is not anything, nor will be ever,Than woman worse, let what will fall on men.It is right to observe that Welcker and Ahrens have conjecturally pieced together this and many other scattered fragments, and connected them in such a way as to reconstitute a tragedy with Argos for its scene, not Thebes.[23]'Tis terrible that impious men, the sonsOf sinners, even such should thrive and prosper,While men by virtue moulded, sprung from siresComplete in goodness, should be born to suffer.Nay, but the gods do ill in dealing thusWith mortals! It were well that pious menShould take some signal guerdon at their hands;But evil-doers, on their heads should fallConspicuous punishment for deeds ill-done.Then should no wicked man fare well and flourish.From theAletes.[24]The man who takes delight in always talkingIs irksome to his friends and does not know it.[25]A reasonable soul, by just perception,Better than sophists may discover truth.[26]Money makes friends for men, and heaps up honors,And sets them on the tyrant's hated throne:Wealth finds no foes, or none but covert foes,Climbs pathless ways, and treads where tracks are beaten;While poor men, what luck gives them, may not use:A misshaped body, an ill-sounding name,Wealth turns by words to beauty, gifts with wisdom;For wealth alone hath privilege of freedomIn joy and sickness, and can hide its sorrow.[27]Tyrants are wise by wise society.[28]Man is but wind and shadow, naught besides.[29]As in the boughs of a tall poplar-tree,If nothing else, at least her shivering topMoves 'neath the breeze and waves her leafy pinions.[30]Love falls not only on the hearts of menOr women, but the souls of gods aboveHe furrows, and makes onslaught on the sea:Against his force Zeus the all-powerfulIs impotent—he yields and bends with pleasure.Than a bad wife a man can have no greaterCurse, and no greater blessing than a good one.Each after trial speaks by his experience.[31]Girls, look you, Kupris is not Kupris only:In her one name names manifold are blended;For she is Death, imperishable power,Frenetic fury, irresistible longing,Wailing and groaning. Her one force includesAll energy, all languor, and all violence.Into the vitals of whatever thingHath breath of life, she sinks. Who feeds her not?She creeps into the fishes of the seaAnd the four-footed creatures of dry land,Shakes mid the birds her own aerial plumes,Sways beasts and mortal men and gods above.Which of the gods hath she not thrown in wrestling?If right allow, and to speak truth is right,She rules the heart of Zeus. Without or spearOr sword, I therefore bid you know, Dame KuprisFells at a blow of gods and men the counsels.[32]Now am I naught—abandoned: oftentimesI've noticed how to this we women fall,How we are naught. In girlhood and at homeOur life's the sweetest life men ever know,For careless joy is a glad nurse to all:But when we come to youth, gleeful and gay,Forth are we thrust, and bought and sold and bartered,Far from our household gods, from parents far,Some to strange husbands, to barbarians some,To homes uncouth, to houses foul with shame.Yea, let but one night yoke us, all these thingsMust needs forthwith be praised and held for fair.[33]Of one race and common lineage all men at the hour of birthFrom the womb are issued equal, sons alike of mother earth;But our lots how diverse! Some are nursed by fortune harsh and rude,Some by gentle ease, while others bare their necks to servitude.[34]To call that man who prospers truly happyWere vain before his life be wholly done;For in short time and swift great power and richesHave fallen by the dower of fate malign,When fortune veers and thus the gods decree.[35]There is no trouble worse than length of life.Old age hath all the ills that flesh is heir to—Vain thoughts and powerless deeds and vanished mind.If mourners by their cries could cure our misery,If tears could raise the dead to life again,Gold would be valueless compared with crying.But now, old man, these sorrows nought availTo bring to light him whom the grave hath covered;Else had my father, too, by grace of tears,The day revisited.The second of these extracts finds a close echo in some beautiful lines on the inutility of tears by Philemon [Sardiusfr. i.][36]Rightly do bad men call my name Odysseus,For ill folk odious insults heap upon me.[37]Even in words there is a pleasure, whenThey bring forgetfulness of present woes.'Tis better not to be than to live badly.When toil has been well finished, toils are sweet.Enslave the body—still the soul is free.The oaths of women I on water write.O mortals, wretched creatures of a day,How truly are we naught but like to shadowsRolling superfluous weight of earth around!Take courage, lady: many fearful thingsThat breathed dark dreams in night, by day are solaced.What may be taught, I learn; what may be found,I seek; from heaven I ask what may be prayed for.[38]See Goethe,Sämmtliche Werke, 1840, vol. xxxiii, pp. 22-43.[39]Of all the thousand ills that prey on HellasNot one is greater than the tribe of athletes;For, first, they never learn how to live well,Nor, indeed, could they; seeing that a man,Slave to his jaws and belly, cannot hopeTo heap up wealth superior to his sire's.How to be poor and row in fortune's boatThey know no better; for they have not learnedManners that make men proof against ill luck.Lustrous in youth, they lounge like living statues.Decking the streets; but when sad old age comes,They fall and perish like a threadbare coat.I've often blamed the customs of us Hellenes,Who for the sake of such men meet togetherTo honor idle sport and feed our fill;For who, I pray you, by his skill in wrestling,Swiftness of foot, good boxing, strength at quoits,Has served his city by the crown he gains?Will they meet men in fight with quoits in hand,Or in the press of shields drive forth the foemanBy force of fisticuffs from hearth and home?Such follies are forgotten face to faceWith steel. We therefore ought to crown with wreathsMen wise and good, and him who guides the State,A man well-tempered, just, and sound in counsel,Or one who by his words averts ill deeds,Warding off strife and warfare; for such thingsBring honor on the city and all Hellenes.[40]He was my friend; and may love lead me neverAside to folly or to sensual joy!Surely there is another sort of loveFor a soul, just, well-tempered, strong, and good.And there should be this law for mortal men,To love the pure and temperate, and to leaveKupris, the daughter of high Zeus, alone.We find a witty contradiction to the sentiment of these lines in a fragment of Amphis [Dithyrambus, fr. 2]:τί φῄς; σὺ ταυτὶ προσδοκᾷς πείσειν ἔμ' ὡςἔρως τις ἐστὶν ὅστις ὡραῖον φιλῶντρόπων ἐραστής ἐστι τὴν ὄψιν παρείς;ἄφρων γ' ἀληθῶς.[41]Whoso pretends that Love is no great god,The lord and master of all deities,Is either dull of soul, or, dead to beauty,Knows not the greatest god that governs men.Augè, 269.When it befalls poor mortal men to love,Should they find worthy objects for their loving,Then is there nothing left of joy to long for.Andromeda, 147.Mine is a master of resolve and daring,Filled with all craft to do impossible things,Love, among gods the most unconquerable.Hippolytus, 431.[42]Music, at least,Love teaches men, unmusical before.Sthenebœa, 664.[43]O Love, our lord, of gods and men the king,Either teach not how beauteous beauty is,Or help poor lovers, whom like clay thou mouldest,Through toil and labor to a happy end.Thus shalt thou gain high honor: otherwiseThe loving lessons that men learn of thee,Will rob thee of their worship and good-will.Andromeda, 135.[44]A young man with eyes turned to follow beautyMay not be governed: yea, though he be weak,Yet is he wise and masterful for loving;And when Love smiles, what boon surpasseth love?Antigone, 161.[45]Love is a sluggard, and of sloth the twin:Mirrors and hair-dyes are his favorite toys;Labor he shuns. I take this truth to witness:No beggar for his bread was known to love,But with rich men his beauty-bloom abounds.[46]Dire is the violence of ocean waves,And dire the blast of rivers and hot fire,And dire is want, and dire are countless things;But nothing is so dire and dread as woman.No painting could express her dreadfulness,No words describe it. If a god made woman,And fashioned her, he was for men the artistOf woes unnumbered, and their deadly foe.Incert. Fab., 880.[47]Saving my mother, I hate womankind.Melanippide, 507.Good women must abide within the house:Those whom we meet abroad are nothing worth.Meleager, 527.Mothers are fonder of their sons than fathers:For mothers know they're theirs, while fathers think it.Incert. Fab., 883.There is no fort, there is no money-box,Nor aught besides, so hard to guard as woman.Danaë, 323.Instead of fire,Another fire mightier and more invincibleIs woman.Hippolytus, 430.Marry, go to, yea, marry—and then dieBy poison at a woman's hand or wiles.Cretan Women, 467.[48]Those men who mate with women better bornOr wed great riches, know not how to wed;For when the woman's part doth rule the house,The man's a slave; large dowers are worse than none,Seeing they make divorce more difficult.Melanippide, 513.[49]To mate a youth with a young wife is ill;Seeing a man's strength lasteth, while the bloomOf beauty quickly leaves a woman's form.Æolus, 22.[50]He, leaping to my arms and in my bosom,Might haply sport, and with a crowd of kissesMight win my soul forth; for there is no greaterLove-charm than close companionship, my father.Danaë, 325.[51]Lady, the sun's light to our eyes is dear,And fair the tranquil reaches of the sea,And flowery earth in May, and bounding waters;And so right many fair things I might praise;Yet nothing is so radiant and so fairAs for souls childless, with desire sore-smitten,To see the light of babes about the house.Ib., 327.[52]Naught is more dear to children than their mother.Sons, love your mother; for there is no loveSweeter than this that can be loved by men.Erechtheus, 370.[53]A woman, when she leaves her father's home,Belongs not to her parents, but her bed;Men stay within the house, and stand for ayeAvengeful guardians of its shrines and graves.Danaë, 330.[54]Who knows if that be life which we call death,And life be dying?—save alone that menLiving bear grief, but when they yield their breathThey grieve no more and have no sorrow then.Incert. Fab., 821.'Twere well for men, when first a babe draws breath,To meet and wail the woes that he must bear;But to salute the soul that rests from careWith songs and pæans on the path of death.Cresphontes, 454.Let those who live do right ere death descendeth;The dead are dust; mere naught to nothing tendeth.Meleager, 537.In death there dwells the end of human strife;For what mid men than death is mightier?Who can inflict pain on the stony scaurBy wounding it with spear-point? Who can hurtThe dead, when dead men have no sense of suffering?Antigone, 160.[55]Think'st thou that Death will heed thy tears at all,Or send thy son back if thou wilt but groan?Nay, cease; and, gazing at thy neighbor's grief,Grow calm: if thou wilt take the pains to reckonHow many have toiled out their lives in bonds,How many wear to old age, robbed of children,And all who from the tyrant's height of gloryHave sunk to nothing. These things shouldst thou heed.Dictys, 334.[56]No man was ever born who did not suffer.He buries children, then begets new sons,Then dies himself: and men forsooth are grieved,Consigning dust to dust. Yet needs must beLives should be garnered like ripe harvest-sheaves,And one man live, another perish. WhyMourn over that which nature puts upon us?Naught that must be is terrible to mortals.Hypsipyle, 752.[57]Think you that sins leap up to heaven aloftOn wings, and then that on Jove's red-leaved tabletsSome one doth write them, and Jove looks at themIn judging mortals? Not the whole broad heaven,If Jove should write our sins, would be enough,Nor he suffice to punish them. But JusticeIs here, is somewhere near us; do but look.Melanippide, 488.Justice, they say, is daughter of high Jove,And dwells hard by to human sinfulness.Alopé, 149.[58]Doth some one say that there be gods above?There are not; no, there are not. Let no fool,Led by the old false fable, thus deceive you.Look at the facts themselves, yielding my wordsNo undue credence: for I say that kingsKill, rob, break oaths, lay cities waste by fraud,And doing thus are happier than thoseWho live calm pious lives day after day.How many little states that serve the godsAre subject to the godless but more strong,Made slaves by might of a superior army!Bellerophontes, 293.[59]Go to now, O ye bad men, heap up honorsBy force, get wealth, hunting it whence ye can,By indiscriminate armfuls, right and wrong;Then reap of all these things the wretched harvest.Ino, 420.Gold! of all welcome blessings thou'rt the best!For never had a mother's smile for men,Nor son, nor father dear, such perfect charm,As thou and they who hold thee for their guest.If Kupris darts such glamour from her gaze,No wonder that she breeds a myriad loves!Bellerophontes, 288.[60]For mere high birth I have small meed of praise;The good man in my sight is nobly born;While he who is not righteous, though his sireThan Zeus be loftier, seems to me but base.Dictys, 341.I know not how to think of noble blood:For men of courage and of virtuous soul,Though born of slaves, are far above vain titles.Melanippide, 496.Lo, in all places how the nobly bornShow their good breed and spirit by brave bearing!Danaë, 328.The whole wide ether is the eagle's way:The whole earth is a brave man's fatherland.Incert. Frag.866.[61]A young man should be always doing, daring;For no slack heart or hand was ever famous.'Tis toil and danger that beget fair fame.Archelaus, 233.Who seeks to lead a life of unstirred pleasureCannot win fame: fame is the meed of travail.Ibid.234.A life of pleasure and unmanly slothCould never raise a house or State to honor.Ibid.235.Fair honor is the child of countless toils.Ibid.236.Is it not right that IShould toil? Without toil who was ever famous?What slothful soul ever desired the highest?Ibid.238.[62]'Tis judgment that administers the State,The household, and in war of force is found;For one wise word in season hath more strengthThan many hands. Crowds and no brains breed ruin.Antiope, 205.There are three virtues to observe, my son:Honor the gods, the parents that begot you,The laws that govern Hellas. Follow these,And you will win the fairest crown of honor.Ibid.221.[63]The man who, when the goods of life abound,Casts to the winds economy, and spendsHis days in seeking after feast and song,At home and in the State will be a drone,And to his friends be nothing. CharacterIs, for the slaves of honeyed pleasure, gone.Ibid.196.[64]There is satiety of all things. MenDesert fair wives to dote on ugly women;With rich meat surfeited, they gladly turnTo humble fare, and find fresh appetite.Antiope, 187.[65]Much ivy crept around, a comely growth,The tuneful haunt of swallows.Alcmene, 91.What! Do I see a rock with salt sea-foamSurrounded, and the image of a maidenCarved from the stony bastions nature-wroughtBy some wise workman's craft?Andromeda, 127.[66]What mother or what father got for menThat curse unutterable, odious envy?Where dwells it? In what member lies its lair?Is it our hands, our entrails, or our eyesThat harbor it? Full ill would fare the leechWho with the knife, or potions, or strong drugs,Should seek to clear away this worst disease.Ino, 418.[67]We all are wise for giving good advice,But when we fail we have no wisdom left.Incert. Fab.862.[68]Good ways of feeling are more safe than law:No rhetorician can upset the one;The other he may tumble upside downWith words, and do it often grievous wrong.Peirithous, 598.[69]Young, but in spirit not untrained by trouble.Dictys, 332.

[13]Worsley's translation,Iliad, vol. i. p. 154.

[14]See vol. i. pp. 91-123.

[15]Lo, if thou fain wouldst benefit the dead,Or if thou seek to harm them, 'tis all one;For they can feel no joy nor suffer pain,Nathless high Nemesis is throned above us,And Justice doth exact the dead man's due.

[15]

Lo, if thou fain wouldst benefit the dead,Or if thou seek to harm them, 'tis all one;For they can feel no joy nor suffer pain,Nathless high Nemesis is throned above us,And Justice doth exact the dead man's due.

[16]See vol. i. pp. 372-435.

[17]O Death, the savior, spurn me not, but come!For thou alone of ills incurableArt healer: no pain preyeth on the dead.

[17]

O Death, the savior, spurn me not, but come!For thou alone of ills incurableArt healer: no pain preyeth on the dead.

[18]Alone of gods Death loves not gifts; with himNor sacrifice nor incense aught avails;He hath no altar and no hymns of gladness;Prayer stands aloof from him, Persuasion fails.

[18]

Alone of gods Death loves not gifts; with himNor sacrifice nor incense aught avails;He hath no altar and no hymns of gladness;Prayer stands aloof from him, Persuasion fails.

[19]Love throbs in holy heaven to wound the earth;And love still prompts the land to yearn for bridals;The rain that falls in rivers from the sky,Impregnates earth, and she brings forth for menThe flocks and herds and life of teeming Ceres;The bloom of forests by dews hymenealIs perfected: in all which things I rule.

[19]

Love throbs in holy heaven to wound the earth;And love still prompts the land to yearn for bridals;The rain that falls in rivers from the sky,Impregnates earth, and she brings forth for menThe flocks and herds and life of teeming Ceres;The bloom of forests by dews hymenealIs perfected: in all which things I rule.

[20]Zeus is the air, Zeus earth, and Zeus wide heaven:Yea, Zeus is all things, and the power above them.

[20]

Zeus is the air, Zeus earth, and Zeus wide heaven:Yea, Zeus is all things, and the power above them.

[21]This love-disease is a delightful trouble;Well might I shadow forth its power as thus:When the clear, eager frost has fallen, boysSeize with their fingers the firm frozen ice,And first they feel an unaccustomed pleasure,But in the end it melts, and they to leave itOr in their hands to hold it know not how;Even so the same desire drives wilful loversTo do and not to do by frequent changes.

[21]

This love-disease is a delightful trouble;Well might I shadow forth its power as thus:When the clear, eager frost has fallen, boysSeize with their fingers the firm frozen ice,And first they feel an unaccustomed pleasure,But in the end it melts, and they to leave itOr in their hands to hold it know not how;Even so the same desire drives wilful loversTo do and not to do by frequent changes.

[22]Woman, that hast dared all, and more than all!There is not anything, nor will be ever,Than woman worse, let what will fall on men.It is right to observe that Welcker and Ahrens have conjecturally pieced together this and many other scattered fragments, and connected them in such a way as to reconstitute a tragedy with Argos for its scene, not Thebes.

[22]

Woman, that hast dared all, and more than all!There is not anything, nor will be ever,Than woman worse, let what will fall on men.

It is right to observe that Welcker and Ahrens have conjecturally pieced together this and many other scattered fragments, and connected them in such a way as to reconstitute a tragedy with Argos for its scene, not Thebes.

[23]'Tis terrible that impious men, the sonsOf sinners, even such should thrive and prosper,While men by virtue moulded, sprung from siresComplete in goodness, should be born to suffer.Nay, but the gods do ill in dealing thusWith mortals! It were well that pious menShould take some signal guerdon at their hands;But evil-doers, on their heads should fallConspicuous punishment for deeds ill-done.Then should no wicked man fare well and flourish.From theAletes.

[23]

'Tis terrible that impious men, the sonsOf sinners, even such should thrive and prosper,While men by virtue moulded, sprung from siresComplete in goodness, should be born to suffer.Nay, but the gods do ill in dealing thusWith mortals! It were well that pious menShould take some signal guerdon at their hands;But evil-doers, on their heads should fallConspicuous punishment for deeds ill-done.Then should no wicked man fare well and flourish.

From theAletes.

[24]The man who takes delight in always talkingIs irksome to his friends and does not know it.

[24]

The man who takes delight in always talkingIs irksome to his friends and does not know it.

[25]A reasonable soul, by just perception,Better than sophists may discover truth.

[25]

A reasonable soul, by just perception,Better than sophists may discover truth.

[26]Money makes friends for men, and heaps up honors,And sets them on the tyrant's hated throne:Wealth finds no foes, or none but covert foes,Climbs pathless ways, and treads where tracks are beaten;While poor men, what luck gives them, may not use:A misshaped body, an ill-sounding name,Wealth turns by words to beauty, gifts with wisdom;For wealth alone hath privilege of freedomIn joy and sickness, and can hide its sorrow.

[26]

Money makes friends for men, and heaps up honors,And sets them on the tyrant's hated throne:Wealth finds no foes, or none but covert foes,Climbs pathless ways, and treads where tracks are beaten;While poor men, what luck gives them, may not use:A misshaped body, an ill-sounding name,Wealth turns by words to beauty, gifts with wisdom;For wealth alone hath privilege of freedomIn joy and sickness, and can hide its sorrow.

[27]Tyrants are wise by wise society.

[28]Man is but wind and shadow, naught besides.

[29]As in the boughs of a tall poplar-tree,If nothing else, at least her shivering topMoves 'neath the breeze and waves her leafy pinions.

[29]

As in the boughs of a tall poplar-tree,If nothing else, at least her shivering topMoves 'neath the breeze and waves her leafy pinions.

[30]Love falls not only on the hearts of menOr women, but the souls of gods aboveHe furrows, and makes onslaught on the sea:Against his force Zeus the all-powerfulIs impotent—he yields and bends with pleasure.Than a bad wife a man can have no greaterCurse, and no greater blessing than a good one.Each after trial speaks by his experience.

[30]

Love falls not only on the hearts of menOr women, but the souls of gods aboveHe furrows, and makes onslaught on the sea:Against his force Zeus the all-powerfulIs impotent—he yields and bends with pleasure.Than a bad wife a man can have no greaterCurse, and no greater blessing than a good one.Each after trial speaks by his experience.

Than a bad wife a man can have no greaterCurse, and no greater blessing than a good one.Each after trial speaks by his experience.

[31]Girls, look you, Kupris is not Kupris only:In her one name names manifold are blended;For she is Death, imperishable power,Frenetic fury, irresistible longing,Wailing and groaning. Her one force includesAll energy, all languor, and all violence.Into the vitals of whatever thingHath breath of life, she sinks. Who feeds her not?She creeps into the fishes of the seaAnd the four-footed creatures of dry land,Shakes mid the birds her own aerial plumes,Sways beasts and mortal men and gods above.Which of the gods hath she not thrown in wrestling?If right allow, and to speak truth is right,She rules the heart of Zeus. Without or spearOr sword, I therefore bid you know, Dame KuprisFells at a blow of gods and men the counsels.

[31]

Girls, look you, Kupris is not Kupris only:In her one name names manifold are blended;For she is Death, imperishable power,Frenetic fury, irresistible longing,Wailing and groaning. Her one force includesAll energy, all languor, and all violence.Into the vitals of whatever thingHath breath of life, she sinks. Who feeds her not?She creeps into the fishes of the seaAnd the four-footed creatures of dry land,Shakes mid the birds her own aerial plumes,Sways beasts and mortal men and gods above.Which of the gods hath she not thrown in wrestling?If right allow, and to speak truth is right,She rules the heart of Zeus. Without or spearOr sword, I therefore bid you know, Dame KuprisFells at a blow of gods and men the counsels.

[32]Now am I naught—abandoned: oftentimesI've noticed how to this we women fall,How we are naught. In girlhood and at homeOur life's the sweetest life men ever know,For careless joy is a glad nurse to all:But when we come to youth, gleeful and gay,Forth are we thrust, and bought and sold and bartered,Far from our household gods, from parents far,Some to strange husbands, to barbarians some,To homes uncouth, to houses foul with shame.Yea, let but one night yoke us, all these thingsMust needs forthwith be praised and held for fair.

[32]

Now am I naught—abandoned: oftentimesI've noticed how to this we women fall,How we are naught. In girlhood and at homeOur life's the sweetest life men ever know,For careless joy is a glad nurse to all:But when we come to youth, gleeful and gay,Forth are we thrust, and bought and sold and bartered,Far from our household gods, from parents far,Some to strange husbands, to barbarians some,To homes uncouth, to houses foul with shame.Yea, let but one night yoke us, all these thingsMust needs forthwith be praised and held for fair.

[33]Of one race and common lineage all men at the hour of birthFrom the womb are issued equal, sons alike of mother earth;But our lots how diverse! Some are nursed by fortune harsh and rude,Some by gentle ease, while others bare their necks to servitude.

[33]

Of one race and common lineage all men at the hour of birthFrom the womb are issued equal, sons alike of mother earth;But our lots how diverse! Some are nursed by fortune harsh and rude,Some by gentle ease, while others bare their necks to servitude.

[34]To call that man who prospers truly happyWere vain before his life be wholly done;For in short time and swift great power and richesHave fallen by the dower of fate malign,When fortune veers and thus the gods decree.

[34]

To call that man who prospers truly happyWere vain before his life be wholly done;For in short time and swift great power and richesHave fallen by the dower of fate malign,When fortune veers and thus the gods decree.

[35]There is no trouble worse than length of life.Old age hath all the ills that flesh is heir to—Vain thoughts and powerless deeds and vanished mind.If mourners by their cries could cure our misery,If tears could raise the dead to life again,Gold would be valueless compared with crying.But now, old man, these sorrows nought availTo bring to light him whom the grave hath covered;Else had my father, too, by grace of tears,The day revisited.The second of these extracts finds a close echo in some beautiful lines on the inutility of tears by Philemon [Sardiusfr. i.]

[35]

There is no trouble worse than length of life.Old age hath all the ills that flesh is heir to—Vain thoughts and powerless deeds and vanished mind.If mourners by their cries could cure our misery,If tears could raise the dead to life again,Gold would be valueless compared with crying.But now, old man, these sorrows nought availTo bring to light him whom the grave hath covered;Else had my father, too, by grace of tears,The day revisited.

There is no trouble worse than length of life.Old age hath all the ills that flesh is heir to—Vain thoughts and powerless deeds and vanished mind.

If mourners by their cries could cure our misery,If tears could raise the dead to life again,Gold would be valueless compared with crying.But now, old man, these sorrows nought availTo bring to light him whom the grave hath covered;Else had my father, too, by grace of tears,The day revisited.

The second of these extracts finds a close echo in some beautiful lines on the inutility of tears by Philemon [Sardiusfr. i.]

[36]Rightly do bad men call my name Odysseus,For ill folk odious insults heap upon me.

[36]

Rightly do bad men call my name Odysseus,For ill folk odious insults heap upon me.

[37]Even in words there is a pleasure, whenThey bring forgetfulness of present woes.'Tis better not to be than to live badly.When toil has been well finished, toils are sweet.Enslave the body—still the soul is free.The oaths of women I on water write.O mortals, wretched creatures of a day,How truly are we naught but like to shadowsRolling superfluous weight of earth around!Take courage, lady: many fearful thingsThat breathed dark dreams in night, by day are solaced.What may be taught, I learn; what may be found,I seek; from heaven I ask what may be prayed for.

[37]

Even in words there is a pleasure, whenThey bring forgetfulness of present woes.'Tis better not to be than to live badly.When toil has been well finished, toils are sweet.Enslave the body—still the soul is free.The oaths of women I on water write.O mortals, wretched creatures of a day,How truly are we naught but like to shadowsRolling superfluous weight of earth around!Take courage, lady: many fearful thingsThat breathed dark dreams in night, by day are solaced.What may be taught, I learn; what may be found,I seek; from heaven I ask what may be prayed for.

Even in words there is a pleasure, whenThey bring forgetfulness of present woes.

'Tis better not to be than to live badly.

When toil has been well finished, toils are sweet.

Enslave the body—still the soul is free.

The oaths of women I on water write.

O mortals, wretched creatures of a day,How truly are we naught but like to shadowsRolling superfluous weight of earth around!

Take courage, lady: many fearful thingsThat breathed dark dreams in night, by day are solaced.

What may be taught, I learn; what may be found,I seek; from heaven I ask what may be prayed for.

[38]See Goethe,Sämmtliche Werke, 1840, vol. xxxiii, pp. 22-43.

[39]Of all the thousand ills that prey on HellasNot one is greater than the tribe of athletes;For, first, they never learn how to live well,Nor, indeed, could they; seeing that a man,Slave to his jaws and belly, cannot hopeTo heap up wealth superior to his sire's.How to be poor and row in fortune's boatThey know no better; for they have not learnedManners that make men proof against ill luck.Lustrous in youth, they lounge like living statues.Decking the streets; but when sad old age comes,They fall and perish like a threadbare coat.I've often blamed the customs of us Hellenes,Who for the sake of such men meet togetherTo honor idle sport and feed our fill;For who, I pray you, by his skill in wrestling,Swiftness of foot, good boxing, strength at quoits,Has served his city by the crown he gains?Will they meet men in fight with quoits in hand,Or in the press of shields drive forth the foemanBy force of fisticuffs from hearth and home?Such follies are forgotten face to faceWith steel. We therefore ought to crown with wreathsMen wise and good, and him who guides the State,A man well-tempered, just, and sound in counsel,Or one who by his words averts ill deeds,Warding off strife and warfare; for such thingsBring honor on the city and all Hellenes.

[39]

Of all the thousand ills that prey on HellasNot one is greater than the tribe of athletes;For, first, they never learn how to live well,Nor, indeed, could they; seeing that a man,Slave to his jaws and belly, cannot hopeTo heap up wealth superior to his sire's.How to be poor and row in fortune's boatThey know no better; for they have not learnedManners that make men proof against ill luck.Lustrous in youth, they lounge like living statues.Decking the streets; but when sad old age comes,They fall and perish like a threadbare coat.I've often blamed the customs of us Hellenes,Who for the sake of such men meet togetherTo honor idle sport and feed our fill;For who, I pray you, by his skill in wrestling,Swiftness of foot, good boxing, strength at quoits,Has served his city by the crown he gains?Will they meet men in fight with quoits in hand,Or in the press of shields drive forth the foemanBy force of fisticuffs from hearth and home?Such follies are forgotten face to faceWith steel. We therefore ought to crown with wreathsMen wise and good, and him who guides the State,A man well-tempered, just, and sound in counsel,Or one who by his words averts ill deeds,Warding off strife and warfare; for such thingsBring honor on the city and all Hellenes.

[40]He was my friend; and may love lead me neverAside to folly or to sensual joy!Surely there is another sort of loveFor a soul, just, well-tempered, strong, and good.And there should be this law for mortal men,To love the pure and temperate, and to leaveKupris, the daughter of high Zeus, alone.We find a witty contradiction to the sentiment of these lines in a fragment of Amphis [Dithyrambus, fr. 2]:τί φῄς; σὺ ταυτὶ προσδοκᾷς πείσειν ἔμ' ὡςἔρως τις ἐστὶν ὅστις ὡραῖον φιλῶντρόπων ἐραστής ἐστι τὴν ὄψιν παρείς;ἄφρων γ' ἀληθῶς.

[40]

He was my friend; and may love lead me neverAside to folly or to sensual joy!Surely there is another sort of loveFor a soul, just, well-tempered, strong, and good.And there should be this law for mortal men,To love the pure and temperate, and to leaveKupris, the daughter of high Zeus, alone.

We find a witty contradiction to the sentiment of these lines in a fragment of Amphis [Dithyrambus, fr. 2]:

τί φῄς; σὺ ταυτὶ προσδοκᾷς πείσειν ἔμ' ὡςἔρως τις ἐστὶν ὅστις ὡραῖον φιλῶντρόπων ἐραστής ἐστι τὴν ὄψιν παρείς;ἄφρων γ' ἀληθῶς.

[41]Whoso pretends that Love is no great god,The lord and master of all deities,Is either dull of soul, or, dead to beauty,Knows not the greatest god that governs men.Augè, 269.When it befalls poor mortal men to love,Should they find worthy objects for their loving,Then is there nothing left of joy to long for.Andromeda, 147.Mine is a master of resolve and daring,Filled with all craft to do impossible things,Love, among gods the most unconquerable.Hippolytus, 431.

[41]

Whoso pretends that Love is no great god,The lord and master of all deities,Is either dull of soul, or, dead to beauty,Knows not the greatest god that governs men.

Augè, 269.

When it befalls poor mortal men to love,Should they find worthy objects for their loving,Then is there nothing left of joy to long for.

Andromeda, 147.

Mine is a master of resolve and daring,Filled with all craft to do impossible things,Love, among gods the most unconquerable.

Hippolytus, 431.

[42]Music, at least,Love teaches men, unmusical before.Sthenebœa, 664.

[42]

Music, at least,Love teaches men, unmusical before.

Sthenebœa, 664.

[43]O Love, our lord, of gods and men the king,Either teach not how beauteous beauty is,Or help poor lovers, whom like clay thou mouldest,Through toil and labor to a happy end.Thus shalt thou gain high honor: otherwiseThe loving lessons that men learn of thee,Will rob thee of their worship and good-will.Andromeda, 135.

[43]

O Love, our lord, of gods and men the king,Either teach not how beauteous beauty is,Or help poor lovers, whom like clay thou mouldest,Through toil and labor to a happy end.Thus shalt thou gain high honor: otherwiseThe loving lessons that men learn of thee,Will rob thee of their worship and good-will.

Andromeda, 135.

[44]A young man with eyes turned to follow beautyMay not be governed: yea, though he be weak,Yet is he wise and masterful for loving;And when Love smiles, what boon surpasseth love?Antigone, 161.

[44]

A young man with eyes turned to follow beautyMay not be governed: yea, though he be weak,Yet is he wise and masterful for loving;And when Love smiles, what boon surpasseth love?

Antigone, 161.

[45]Love is a sluggard, and of sloth the twin:Mirrors and hair-dyes are his favorite toys;Labor he shuns. I take this truth to witness:No beggar for his bread was known to love,But with rich men his beauty-bloom abounds.

[45]

Love is a sluggard, and of sloth the twin:Mirrors and hair-dyes are his favorite toys;Labor he shuns. I take this truth to witness:No beggar for his bread was known to love,But with rich men his beauty-bloom abounds.

[46]Dire is the violence of ocean waves,And dire the blast of rivers and hot fire,And dire is want, and dire are countless things;But nothing is so dire and dread as woman.No painting could express her dreadfulness,No words describe it. If a god made woman,And fashioned her, he was for men the artistOf woes unnumbered, and their deadly foe.Incert. Fab., 880.

[46]

Dire is the violence of ocean waves,And dire the blast of rivers and hot fire,And dire is want, and dire are countless things;But nothing is so dire and dread as woman.No painting could express her dreadfulness,No words describe it. If a god made woman,And fashioned her, he was for men the artistOf woes unnumbered, and their deadly foe.

Incert. Fab., 880.

[47]Saving my mother, I hate womankind.Melanippide, 507.Good women must abide within the house:Those whom we meet abroad are nothing worth.Meleager, 527.Mothers are fonder of their sons than fathers:For mothers know they're theirs, while fathers think it.Incert. Fab., 883.There is no fort, there is no money-box,Nor aught besides, so hard to guard as woman.Danaë, 323.Instead of fire,Another fire mightier and more invincibleIs woman.Hippolytus, 430.Marry, go to, yea, marry—and then dieBy poison at a woman's hand or wiles.Cretan Women, 467.

[47]

Saving my mother, I hate womankind.

Melanippide, 507.

Good women must abide within the house:Those whom we meet abroad are nothing worth.

Meleager, 527.

Mothers are fonder of their sons than fathers:For mothers know they're theirs, while fathers think it.

Incert. Fab., 883.

There is no fort, there is no money-box,Nor aught besides, so hard to guard as woman.

Danaë, 323.

Instead of fire,Another fire mightier and more invincibleIs woman.

Hippolytus, 430.

Marry, go to, yea, marry—and then dieBy poison at a woman's hand or wiles.

Cretan Women, 467.

[48]Those men who mate with women better bornOr wed great riches, know not how to wed;For when the woman's part doth rule the house,The man's a slave; large dowers are worse than none,Seeing they make divorce more difficult.Melanippide, 513.

[48]

Those men who mate with women better bornOr wed great riches, know not how to wed;For when the woman's part doth rule the house,The man's a slave; large dowers are worse than none,Seeing they make divorce more difficult.

Melanippide, 513.

[49]To mate a youth with a young wife is ill;Seeing a man's strength lasteth, while the bloomOf beauty quickly leaves a woman's form.Æolus, 22.

[49]

To mate a youth with a young wife is ill;Seeing a man's strength lasteth, while the bloomOf beauty quickly leaves a woman's form.

Æolus, 22.

[50]He, leaping to my arms and in my bosom,Might haply sport, and with a crowd of kissesMight win my soul forth; for there is no greaterLove-charm than close companionship, my father.Danaë, 325.

[50]

He, leaping to my arms and in my bosom,Might haply sport, and with a crowd of kissesMight win my soul forth; for there is no greaterLove-charm than close companionship, my father.

Danaë, 325.

[51]Lady, the sun's light to our eyes is dear,And fair the tranquil reaches of the sea,And flowery earth in May, and bounding waters;And so right many fair things I might praise;Yet nothing is so radiant and so fairAs for souls childless, with desire sore-smitten,To see the light of babes about the house.Ib., 327.

[51]

Lady, the sun's light to our eyes is dear,And fair the tranquil reaches of the sea,And flowery earth in May, and bounding waters;And so right many fair things I might praise;Yet nothing is so radiant and so fairAs for souls childless, with desire sore-smitten,To see the light of babes about the house.

Ib., 327.

[52]Naught is more dear to children than their mother.Sons, love your mother; for there is no loveSweeter than this that can be loved by men.Erechtheus, 370.

[52]

Naught is more dear to children than their mother.Sons, love your mother; for there is no loveSweeter than this that can be loved by men.

Erechtheus, 370.

[53]A woman, when she leaves her father's home,Belongs not to her parents, but her bed;Men stay within the house, and stand for ayeAvengeful guardians of its shrines and graves.Danaë, 330.

[53]

A woman, when she leaves her father's home,Belongs not to her parents, but her bed;Men stay within the house, and stand for ayeAvengeful guardians of its shrines and graves.

Danaë, 330.

[54]Who knows if that be life which we call death,And life be dying?—save alone that menLiving bear grief, but when they yield their breathThey grieve no more and have no sorrow then.Incert. Fab., 821.'Twere well for men, when first a babe draws breath,To meet and wail the woes that he must bear;But to salute the soul that rests from careWith songs and pæans on the path of death.Cresphontes, 454.Let those who live do right ere death descendeth;The dead are dust; mere naught to nothing tendeth.Meleager, 537.In death there dwells the end of human strife;For what mid men than death is mightier?Who can inflict pain on the stony scaurBy wounding it with spear-point? Who can hurtThe dead, when dead men have no sense of suffering?Antigone, 160.

[54]

Who knows if that be life which we call death,And life be dying?—save alone that menLiving bear grief, but when they yield their breathThey grieve no more and have no sorrow then.

Incert. Fab., 821.

'Twere well for men, when first a babe draws breath,To meet and wail the woes that he must bear;But to salute the soul that rests from careWith songs and pæans on the path of death.

Cresphontes, 454.

Let those who live do right ere death descendeth;The dead are dust; mere naught to nothing tendeth.

Meleager, 537.

In death there dwells the end of human strife;For what mid men than death is mightier?Who can inflict pain on the stony scaurBy wounding it with spear-point? Who can hurtThe dead, when dead men have no sense of suffering?

Antigone, 160.

[55]Think'st thou that Death will heed thy tears at all,Or send thy son back if thou wilt but groan?Nay, cease; and, gazing at thy neighbor's grief,Grow calm: if thou wilt take the pains to reckonHow many have toiled out their lives in bonds,How many wear to old age, robbed of children,And all who from the tyrant's height of gloryHave sunk to nothing. These things shouldst thou heed.Dictys, 334.

[55]

Think'st thou that Death will heed thy tears at all,Or send thy son back if thou wilt but groan?Nay, cease; and, gazing at thy neighbor's grief,Grow calm: if thou wilt take the pains to reckonHow many have toiled out their lives in bonds,How many wear to old age, robbed of children,And all who from the tyrant's height of gloryHave sunk to nothing. These things shouldst thou heed.

Dictys, 334.

[56]No man was ever born who did not suffer.He buries children, then begets new sons,Then dies himself: and men forsooth are grieved,Consigning dust to dust. Yet needs must beLives should be garnered like ripe harvest-sheaves,And one man live, another perish. WhyMourn over that which nature puts upon us?Naught that must be is terrible to mortals.Hypsipyle, 752.

[56]

No man was ever born who did not suffer.He buries children, then begets new sons,Then dies himself: and men forsooth are grieved,Consigning dust to dust. Yet needs must beLives should be garnered like ripe harvest-sheaves,And one man live, another perish. WhyMourn over that which nature puts upon us?Naught that must be is terrible to mortals.

Hypsipyle, 752.

[57]Think you that sins leap up to heaven aloftOn wings, and then that on Jove's red-leaved tabletsSome one doth write them, and Jove looks at themIn judging mortals? Not the whole broad heaven,If Jove should write our sins, would be enough,Nor he suffice to punish them. But JusticeIs here, is somewhere near us; do but look.Melanippide, 488.Justice, they say, is daughter of high Jove,And dwells hard by to human sinfulness.Alopé, 149.

[57]

Think you that sins leap up to heaven aloftOn wings, and then that on Jove's red-leaved tabletsSome one doth write them, and Jove looks at themIn judging mortals? Not the whole broad heaven,If Jove should write our sins, would be enough,Nor he suffice to punish them. But JusticeIs here, is somewhere near us; do but look.

Melanippide, 488.

Justice, they say, is daughter of high Jove,And dwells hard by to human sinfulness.

Alopé, 149.

[58]Doth some one say that there be gods above?There are not; no, there are not. Let no fool,Led by the old false fable, thus deceive you.Look at the facts themselves, yielding my wordsNo undue credence: for I say that kingsKill, rob, break oaths, lay cities waste by fraud,And doing thus are happier than thoseWho live calm pious lives day after day.How many little states that serve the godsAre subject to the godless but more strong,Made slaves by might of a superior army!Bellerophontes, 293.

[58]

Doth some one say that there be gods above?There are not; no, there are not. Let no fool,Led by the old false fable, thus deceive you.Look at the facts themselves, yielding my wordsNo undue credence: for I say that kingsKill, rob, break oaths, lay cities waste by fraud,And doing thus are happier than thoseWho live calm pious lives day after day.How many little states that serve the godsAre subject to the godless but more strong,Made slaves by might of a superior army!

Bellerophontes, 293.

[59]Go to now, O ye bad men, heap up honorsBy force, get wealth, hunting it whence ye can,By indiscriminate armfuls, right and wrong;Then reap of all these things the wretched harvest.Ino, 420.Gold! of all welcome blessings thou'rt the best!For never had a mother's smile for men,Nor son, nor father dear, such perfect charm,As thou and they who hold thee for their guest.If Kupris darts such glamour from her gaze,No wonder that she breeds a myriad loves!Bellerophontes, 288.

[59]

Go to now, O ye bad men, heap up honorsBy force, get wealth, hunting it whence ye can,By indiscriminate armfuls, right and wrong;Then reap of all these things the wretched harvest.

Ino, 420.

Gold! of all welcome blessings thou'rt the best!For never had a mother's smile for men,Nor son, nor father dear, such perfect charm,As thou and they who hold thee for their guest.If Kupris darts such glamour from her gaze,No wonder that she breeds a myriad loves!

Bellerophontes, 288.

[60]For mere high birth I have small meed of praise;The good man in my sight is nobly born;While he who is not righteous, though his sireThan Zeus be loftier, seems to me but base.Dictys, 341.I know not how to think of noble blood:For men of courage and of virtuous soul,Though born of slaves, are far above vain titles.Melanippide, 496.Lo, in all places how the nobly bornShow their good breed and spirit by brave bearing!Danaë, 328.The whole wide ether is the eagle's way:The whole earth is a brave man's fatherland.Incert. Frag.866.

[60]

For mere high birth I have small meed of praise;The good man in my sight is nobly born;While he who is not righteous, though his sireThan Zeus be loftier, seems to me but base.

Dictys, 341.

I know not how to think of noble blood:For men of courage and of virtuous soul,Though born of slaves, are far above vain titles.

Melanippide, 496.

Lo, in all places how the nobly bornShow their good breed and spirit by brave bearing!

Danaë, 328.

The whole wide ether is the eagle's way:The whole earth is a brave man's fatherland.

Incert. Frag.866.

[61]A young man should be always doing, daring;For no slack heart or hand was ever famous.'Tis toil and danger that beget fair fame.Archelaus, 233.Who seeks to lead a life of unstirred pleasureCannot win fame: fame is the meed of travail.Ibid.234.A life of pleasure and unmanly slothCould never raise a house or State to honor.Ibid.235.Fair honor is the child of countless toils.Ibid.236.Is it not right that IShould toil? Without toil who was ever famous?What slothful soul ever desired the highest?Ibid.238.

[61]

A young man should be always doing, daring;For no slack heart or hand was ever famous.'Tis toil and danger that beget fair fame.

Archelaus, 233.

Who seeks to lead a life of unstirred pleasureCannot win fame: fame is the meed of travail.

Ibid.234.

A life of pleasure and unmanly slothCould never raise a house or State to honor.

Ibid.235.

Fair honor is the child of countless toils.

Ibid.236.

Is it not right that IShould toil? Without toil who was ever famous?What slothful soul ever desired the highest?

Ibid.238.

[62]'Tis judgment that administers the State,The household, and in war of force is found;For one wise word in season hath more strengthThan many hands. Crowds and no brains breed ruin.Antiope, 205.There are three virtues to observe, my son:Honor the gods, the parents that begot you,The laws that govern Hellas. Follow these,And you will win the fairest crown of honor.Ibid.221.

[62]

'Tis judgment that administers the State,The household, and in war of force is found;For one wise word in season hath more strengthThan many hands. Crowds and no brains breed ruin.

Antiope, 205.

There are three virtues to observe, my son:Honor the gods, the parents that begot you,The laws that govern Hellas. Follow these,And you will win the fairest crown of honor.

Ibid.221.

[63]The man who, when the goods of life abound,Casts to the winds economy, and spendsHis days in seeking after feast and song,At home and in the State will be a drone,And to his friends be nothing. CharacterIs, for the slaves of honeyed pleasure, gone.Ibid.196.

[63]

The man who, when the goods of life abound,Casts to the winds economy, and spendsHis days in seeking after feast and song,At home and in the State will be a drone,And to his friends be nothing. CharacterIs, for the slaves of honeyed pleasure, gone.

Ibid.196.

[64]There is satiety of all things. MenDesert fair wives to dote on ugly women;With rich meat surfeited, they gladly turnTo humble fare, and find fresh appetite.Antiope, 187.

[64]

There is satiety of all things. MenDesert fair wives to dote on ugly women;With rich meat surfeited, they gladly turnTo humble fare, and find fresh appetite.

Antiope, 187.

[65]Much ivy crept around, a comely growth,The tuneful haunt of swallows.Alcmene, 91.What! Do I see a rock with salt sea-foamSurrounded, and the image of a maidenCarved from the stony bastions nature-wroughtBy some wise workman's craft?Andromeda, 127.

[65]

Much ivy crept around, a comely growth,The tuneful haunt of swallows.

Alcmene, 91.

What! Do I see a rock with salt sea-foamSurrounded, and the image of a maidenCarved from the stony bastions nature-wroughtBy some wise workman's craft?

Andromeda, 127.

[66]What mother or what father got for menThat curse unutterable, odious envy?Where dwells it? In what member lies its lair?Is it our hands, our entrails, or our eyesThat harbor it? Full ill would fare the leechWho with the knife, or potions, or strong drugs,Should seek to clear away this worst disease.Ino, 418.

[66]

What mother or what father got for menThat curse unutterable, odious envy?Where dwells it? In what member lies its lair?Is it our hands, our entrails, or our eyesThat harbor it? Full ill would fare the leechWho with the knife, or potions, or strong drugs,Should seek to clear away this worst disease.

Ino, 418.

[67]We all are wise for giving good advice,But when we fail we have no wisdom left.Incert. Fab.862.

[67]

We all are wise for giving good advice,But when we fail we have no wisdom left.

Incert. Fab.862.

[68]Good ways of feeling are more safe than law:No rhetorician can upset the one;The other he may tumble upside downWith words, and do it often grievous wrong.Peirithous, 598.

[68]

Good ways of feeling are more safe than law:No rhetorician can upset the one;The other he may tumble upside downWith words, and do it often grievous wrong.

Peirithous, 598.

[69]Young, but in spirit not untrained by trouble.Dictys, 332.

[69]

Young, but in spirit not untrained by trouble.

Dictys, 332.

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