1. Hebrew Bible, Proverbs, 8 (9th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
|
2. Archilochus, Fragments, 185, 174 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
|
3. Archilochus, Fragments, 185, 174 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
|
4. Hesiod, Works And Days, 10, 100-109, 11, 110-119, 12, 120-129, 13, 130-139, 14, 140-149, 15, 150-159, 16, 160-169, 17, 170-179, 18, 180-189, 19, 190-199, 2, 20, 200-209, 21, 211-219, 22, 220-229, 23, 230-239, 24, 240-249, 25, 250-259, 26, 260-269, 27, 270-279, 28, 280-289, 29, 290-292, 3, 30, 308-309, 31, 310-313, 32-39, 4, 40-48, 483-484, 49, 5, 50, 503, 51-59, 6, 60-64, 649, 65, 650, 66-69, 7, 70, 702, 71-73, 737-739, 74, 740-741, 75-79, 8, 80-89, 9, 90-99, 1 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 1. Pierian Muses, with your songs of praise |
|
5. Hesiod, Theogony, 154-210, 270-336, 36-43, 453-506, 53, 548-549, 559-560, 617-735, 820-849, 85, 850-859, 86, 860-880, 138 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 138. Then Earth, so that on every side she may |
|
6. Homer, Iliad, 4.422-4.426, 4.439-4.445, 4.451, 4.455, 8.245-8.251, 11.131-11.135, 13.62-13.65, 15.236-15.238, 15.690-15.693, 16.384-16.392, 17.98-17.99, 17.673, 17.679, 21.252-21.253, 21.494-21.495, 24.306, 24.308-24.314, 24.321 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 4.422. /and terribly rang the bronze upon the breast of the prince as he moved; thereat might terror have seized even one that was steadfast of heart.As when on a sounding beach the swell of the sea beats, wave after wave, before the driving of the West Wind; out on the deep at the first is it gathered in a crest, but thereafter 4.423. /and terribly rang the bronze upon the breast of the prince as he moved; thereat might terror have seized even one that was steadfast of heart.As when on a sounding beach the swell of the sea beats, wave after wave, before the driving of the West Wind; out on the deep at the first is it gathered in a crest, but thereafter 4.424. /and terribly rang the bronze upon the breast of the prince as he moved; thereat might terror have seized even one that was steadfast of heart.As when on a sounding beach the swell of the sea beats, wave after wave, before the driving of the West Wind; out on the deep at the first is it gathered in a crest, but thereafter 4.425. /is broken upon the land and thundereth aloud, and round about the headlands it swelleth and reareth its head, and speweth forth the salt brine: even in such wise on that day did the battalions of the Danaans move, rank after rank, without cease, into battle; and each captain gave charge to his own men, and the rest marched on in silence; thou wouldst not have deemed 4.426. /is broken upon the land and thundereth aloud, and round about the headlands it swelleth and reareth its head, and speweth forth the salt brine: even in such wise on that day did the battalions of the Danaans move, rank after rank, without cease, into battle; and each captain gave charge to his own men, and the rest marched on in silence; thou wouldst not have deemed 4.439. /and bleat without ceasing as they near the voices of their lambs: even so arose the clamour of the Trojans throughout the wide host; for they had not all like speech or one language, but their tongues were mingled, and they were a folk summoned from many lands. These were urged on by Ares, and the Greeks by flashing-eyed Athene 4.440. /and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst 4.441. /and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst 4.442. /and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst 4.443. /and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst 4.444. /and Terror, and Rout, and Discord that rageth incessantly, sister and comrade of man-slaying Ares; she at the first rears her crest but little, yet thereafter planteth her head in heaven, while her feet tread on earth. She it was that now cast evil strife into their midst 4.445. /as she fared through the throng, making the groanings of men to wax. 4.451. /Then were heard alike the sound of groaning and the cry of triumph of the slayers and the slain, and the earth flowed with blood. As when winter torrents, flowing down the mountains from their great springs to a place where two valleys meet, join their mighty floods in a deep gorge 4.455. /and far off amid the mountains the shepherd heareth the thunder thereof; even so from the joining of these in battle came shouting and toil.Antilochus was first to slay a warrior of the Trojans in full armour, a goodly man amid the foremost fighters, Echepolus, son of Thalysius. Him was he first to smite upon the horn of his helmet with crest of horse-hair 8.245. /So spake he, and the Father had pity on him as he wept, and vouchsafed him that his folk should be saved and not perish. Forthwith he sent an eagle, surest of omens among winged birds, holding in his talons a fawn, the young of a swift hind. Beside the fair altar of Zeus he let fall the fawn 8.246. /So spake he, and the Father had pity on him as he wept, and vouchsafed him that his folk should be saved and not perish. Forthwith he sent an eagle, surest of omens among winged birds, holding in his talons a fawn, the young of a swift hind. Beside the fair altar of Zeus he let fall the fawn 8.247. /So spake he, and the Father had pity on him as he wept, and vouchsafed him that his folk should be saved and not perish. Forthwith he sent an eagle, surest of omens among winged birds, holding in his talons a fawn, the young of a swift hind. Beside the fair altar of Zeus he let fall the fawn 8.248. /So spake he, and the Father had pity on him as he wept, and vouchsafed him that his folk should be saved and not perish. Forthwith he sent an eagle, surest of omens among winged birds, holding in his talons a fawn, the young of a swift hind. Beside the fair altar of Zeus he let fall the fawn 8.249. /So spake he, and the Father had pity on him as he wept, and vouchsafed him that his folk should be saved and not perish. Forthwith he sent an eagle, surest of omens among winged birds, holding in his talons a fawn, the young of a swift hind. Beside the fair altar of Zeus he let fall the fawn 8.250. /even where the Achaeans were wont to offer sacrifice to Zeus from whom all omens come. So they, when they saw that it was from Zeus that the bird was come, leapt the more upon the Trojans and bethought them of battle.Then might no man of the Danaans, for all they were so many, vaunt that he before the son of Tydeus guided his swift horses 8.251. /even where the Achaeans were wont to offer sacrifice to Zeus from whom all omens come. So they, when they saw that it was from Zeus that the bird was come, leapt the more upon the Trojans and bethought them of battle.Then might no man of the Danaans, for all they were so many, vaunt that he before the son of Tydeus guided his swift horses 11.131. /the son of Atreus, and the twain made entreaty to him from the car:Take us alive, thou son of Atreus, and accept a worthy ransom; treasures full many he stored in the palace of Antimachus, bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil; thereof would our father grant thee ransom past counting 11.132. /the son of Atreus, and the twain made entreaty to him from the car:Take us alive, thou son of Atreus, and accept a worthy ransom; treasures full many he stored in the palace of Antimachus, bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil; thereof would our father grant thee ransom past counting 11.133. /the son of Atreus, and the twain made entreaty to him from the car:Take us alive, thou son of Atreus, and accept a worthy ransom; treasures full many he stored in the palace of Antimachus, bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil; thereof would our father grant thee ransom past counting 11.134. /the son of Atreus, and the twain made entreaty to him from the car:Take us alive, thou son of Atreus, and accept a worthy ransom; treasures full many he stored in the palace of Antimachus, bronze and gold and iron, wrought with toil; thereof would our father grant thee ransom past counting 11.135. /should he hear that we are alive at the ships of the Achaeans. So with weeping the twain spake unto the king with gentle words, but all ungentle was the voice they heard:If ye are verily the sons of wise-hearted Antimachus, who on a time in the gathering of the Trojans, when Menelaus 13.62. /smote the twain with his staff, and filled them with valorous strength and made their limbs light, their feet and their hands above. And himself, even as a hawk, swift of flight, speedeth forth to fly, and poising himself aloft above a high sheer rock, darteth over the plain to chase some other bird; 13.63. /smote the twain with his staff, and filled them with valorous strength and made their limbs light, their feet and their hands above. And himself, even as a hawk, swift of flight, speedeth forth to fly, and poising himself aloft above a high sheer rock, darteth over the plain to chase some other bird; 13.64. /smote the twain with his staff, and filled them with valorous strength and made their limbs light, their feet and their hands above. And himself, even as a hawk, swift of flight, speedeth forth to fly, and poising himself aloft above a high sheer rock, darteth over the plain to chase some other bird; 13.65. /even so from them sped Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth. And of the twain swift Aias, son of Oïleus, was first to mark the god, and forthwith spake to Aias, son of Telamon:Aias, seeing it is one of the gods who hold Olympus that in the likeness of the seer biddeth the two of us fight beside the ships— 15.236. /to the end that yet again the Achaeans may have respite from their toil. So spake he, nor was Apollo disobedient to his father s bidding, but went down from the hills of Ida, like a fleet falcon, the slayer of doves, that is the swiftest of winged things. He found the son of wise-hearted Priam, even goodly Hector 15.237. /to the end that yet again the Achaeans may have respite from their toil. So spake he, nor was Apollo disobedient to his father s bidding, but went down from the hills of Ida, like a fleet falcon, the slayer of doves, that is the swiftest of winged things. He found the son of wise-hearted Priam, even goodly Hector 15.238. /to the end that yet again the Achaeans may have respite from their toil. So spake he, nor was Apollo disobedient to his father s bidding, but went down from the hills of Ida, like a fleet falcon, the slayer of doves, that is the swiftest of winged things. He found the son of wise-hearted Priam, even goodly Hector 15.690. /but as a tawny eagle darteth upon a flock of winged fowl that are feeding by a river's bank—a flock of wild geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, even so Hector made for a dark-prowed ship, rushing straight thereon; and from behind Zeus thrust him on 15.691. /but as a tawny eagle darteth upon a flock of winged fowl that are feeding by a river's bank—a flock of wild geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, even so Hector made for a dark-prowed ship, rushing straight thereon; and from behind Zeus thrust him on 15.692. /but as a tawny eagle darteth upon a flock of winged fowl that are feeding by a river's bank—a flock of wild geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, even so Hector made for a dark-prowed ship, rushing straight thereon; and from behind Zeus thrust him on 15.693. /but as a tawny eagle darteth upon a flock of winged fowl that are feeding by a river's bank—a flock of wild geese, or cranes, or long-necked swans, even so Hector made for a dark-prowed ship, rushing straight thereon; and from behind Zeus thrust him on 16.384. /And straight over the trench leapt the swift horses—the immortal horses that the gods gave as glorious gifts to Peleus—in their onward flight, and against Hector did the heart of Patroclus urge him on, for he was fain to smite him; but his swift horses ever bare Hector forth. And even as beneath a tempest the whole black earth is oppressed 16.385. /on a day in harvest-time, when Zeus poureth forth rain most violently, whenso in anger he waxeth wroth against men that by violence give crooked judgments in the place of gathering, and drive justice out, recking not of the vengeance of the gods; and all their rivers flow in flood 16.386. /on a day in harvest-time, when Zeus poureth forth rain most violently, whenso in anger he waxeth wroth against men that by violence give crooked judgments in the place of gathering, and drive justice out, recking not of the vengeance of the gods; and all their rivers flow in flood 16.387. /on a day in harvest-time, when Zeus poureth forth rain most violently, whenso in anger he waxeth wroth against men that by violence give crooked judgments in the place of gathering, and drive justice out, recking not of the vengeance of the gods; and all their rivers flow in flood 16.388. /on a day in harvest-time, when Zeus poureth forth rain most violently, whenso in anger he waxeth wroth against men that by violence give crooked judgments in the place of gathering, and drive justice out, recking not of the vengeance of the gods; and all their rivers flow in flood 16.389. /on a day in harvest-time, when Zeus poureth forth rain most violently, whenso in anger he waxeth wroth against men that by violence give crooked judgments in the place of gathering, and drive justice out, recking not of the vengeance of the gods; and all their rivers flow in flood 16.390. /and many a hillside do the torrents furrow deeply, and down to the dark sea they rush headlong from the mountains with a mighty roar, and the tilled fields of men are wasted; even so mighty was the roar of the mares of Troy as they sped on. 16.391. /and many a hillside do the torrents furrow deeply, and down to the dark sea they rush headlong from the mountains with a mighty roar, and the tilled fields of men are wasted; even so mighty was the roar of the mares of Troy as they sped on. 16.392. /and many a hillside do the torrents furrow deeply, and down to the dark sea they rush headlong from the mountains with a mighty roar, and the tilled fields of men are wasted; even so mighty was the roar of the mares of Troy as they sped on. 17.98. /I fear lest haply they beset me round about, many against one; for all the Trojans is Hector of the flashing helm leading hitherward. But why doth my heart thus hold converse with me? Whenso a warrior is minded against the will of heaven to fight with another whom a god honoureth, forthwith then upon him rolleth mighty woe. 17.99. /I fear lest haply they beset me round about, many against one; for all the Trojans is Hector of the flashing helm leading hitherward. But why doth my heart thus hold converse with me? Whenso a warrior is minded against the will of heaven to fight with another whom a god honoureth, forthwith then upon him rolleth mighty woe. 17.673. /now let each man remember the kindliness of hapless Patroclus; for to all was he ever gentle while yet he lived, but now death and fate have come upon him. So saying fair-haired Menelaus departed, glancing warily on every side as an eagle, which, men say, hath 21.252. /goodly Achilles from his labour, and ward off ruin from the Trojans. But the son of Peleus rushed back as far as a spear-cast with the swoop of a black eagle, the mighty hunter, that is alike the strongest and swiftest of winged things; like him he darted, and upon his breast 21.253. /goodly Achilles from his labour, and ward off ruin from the Trojans. But the son of Peleus rushed back as far as a spear-cast with the swoop of a black eagle, the mighty hunter, that is alike the strongest and swiftest of winged things; like him he darted, and upon his breast 21.494. /with her left hand, and with her right took the bow and its gear from her shoulders, and with these self-same weapons, smiling the while, she beat her about the ears, as she turned this way and that; and the swift arrows fell from out the quiver. Then weeping the goddess fled from before her even as a dove that from before a falcon flieth into a hollow rock 21.495. /a cleft—nor is it her lot to be taken; even so fled Artemis weeping, and left her bow and arrows where they lay. But unto Leto spake the messenger Argeiphontes:Leto, it is not I that will anywise fight with thee; a hard thing were it to bandy blows with the wives of Zeus, the cloud-gatherer; 24.308. /Then, when he had washed his hands, he took the cup from his wife and then made prayer, standing in the midst of thie court, and poured forth the wine, with a look toward heaven, and spake ahoud, saying:Father Zeus, that rulest from Ida, most glorious, most great, grant that I may come unto Achilles' hut as one to be welcomed and to be pitied; 24.309. /Then, when he had washed his hands, he took the cup from his wife and then made prayer, standing in the midst of thie court, and poured forth the wine, with a look toward heaven, and spake ahoud, saying:Father Zeus, that rulest from Ida, most glorious, most great, grant that I may come unto Achilles' hut as one to be welcomed and to be pitied; 24.310. /and send a bird of omen, even the swift messenger that to thyself is dearest of birds and is mightiest in strength; let him appear upon my right hand, to the end that, marking the sign with mine own eyes, I may have trust therein, and go my way to the ships of the Danaans of fleet steeds. So spake he in prayer, and Zeus the Counsellor heard him. 24.311. /and send a bird of omen, even the swift messenger that to thyself is dearest of birds and is mightiest in strength; let him appear upon my right hand, to the end that, marking the sign with mine own eyes, I may have trust therein, and go my way to the ships of the Danaans of fleet steeds. So spake he in prayer, and Zeus the Counsellor heard him. 24.314. /and send a bird of omen, even the swift messenger that to thyself is dearest of birds and is mightiest in strength; let him appear upon my right hand, to the end that, marking the sign with mine own eyes, I may have trust therein, and go my way to the ships of the Danaans of fleet steeds. So spake he in prayer, and Zeus the Counsellor heard him. |
|
7. Homer, Odyssey, 5.225, 16.216-16.218, 19.518-19.523 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
|
8. Anaximander, Fragments, None (7th cent. BCE - 6th cent. BCE)
|
9. Aeschylus, Prometheus Bound, 443-468, 478-506, 442 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
| 442. ὑμῖν λέγοιμι· τἀν βροτοῖς δὲ πήματα | |
|
10. Heraclitus of Ephesus, Fragments, None (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
11. Pindar, Nemean Odes, 2.1-2.3 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
12. Pindar, Olympian Odes, 2.68 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
13. Pindar, Pythian Odes, 1.6 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
14. Theognis, Elegies, 374-400, 897-900, 373 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
15. Aristophanes, Birds, 654 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
|
16. Aristophanes, Knights, 526-530, 537, 520 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 520. τοῦτο μὲν εἰδὼς ἅπαθε Μάγνης ἅμα ταῖς πολιαῖς κατιούσαις | |
|
17. Aristophanes, Lysistrata, 695-699, 694 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
|
18. Aristophanes, Peace, 130-134, 43-48, 129 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 129. ἐν τοῖσιν Αἰσώπου λόγοις ἐξηυρέθη | |
|
19. Aristophanes, Wasps, 1259-1260, 1446-1449, 1258 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 1258. ἢ λόγον ἔλεξας αὐτὸς ἀστεῖόν τινα | |
|
20. Euripides, Alcestis, 358-362, 357 (5th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
21. Euripides, Suppliant Women, 202-204, 201 (5th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
22. Herodotus, Histories, 1.7-1.12, 2.134, 4.205, 6.84.3 (5th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
| 1.7. Now the sovereign power that belonged to the descendants of Heracles fell to the family of Croesus, called the Mermnadae, in the following way. ,Candaules, whom the Greeks call Myrsilus, was the ruler of Sardis ; he was descended from Alcaeus, son of Heracles; Agron son of Ninus, son of Belus, son of Alcaeus, was the first Heraclid king of Sardis and Candaules son of Myrsus was the last. ,The kings of this country before Agron were descendants of Lydus, son of Atys, from whom this whole Lydian district got its name; before that it was called the land of the Meii. ,The Heraclidae, descendants of Heracles and a female slave of Iardanus, received the sovereignty from these and held it, because of an oracle; and they ruled for twenty-two generations, or five hundred and five years, son succeeding father, down to Candaules son of Myrsus. 1.8. This Candaules, then, fell in love with his own wife, so much so that he believed her to be by far the most beautiful woman in the world; and believing this, he praised her beauty beyond measure to Gyges son of Dascylus, who was his favorite among his bodyguard; for it was to Gyges that he entrusted all his most important secrets. ,After a little while, Candaules, doomed to misfortune, spoke to Gyges thus: “Gyges, I do not think that you believe what I say about the beauty of my wife; men trust their ears less than their eyes: so you must see her naked.” Gyges protested loudly at this. ,“Master,” he said, “what an unsound suggestion, that I should see my mistress naked! When a woman's clothes come off, she dispenses with her modesty, too. ,Men have long ago made wise rules from which one ought to learn; one of these is that one should mind one's own business. As for me, I believe that your queen is the most beautiful of all women, and I ask you not to ask of me what is lawless.” 1.9. Speaking thus, Gyges resisted: for he was afraid that some evil would come of it for him. But this was Candaules' answer: “Courage, Gyges! Do not be afraid of me, that I say this to test you, or of my wife, that you will have any harm from her. I will arrange it so that she shall never know that you have seen her. ,I will bring you into the chamber where she and I lie and conceal you behind the open door; and after I have entered, my wife too will come to bed. There is a chair standing near the entrance of the room: on this she will lay each article of her clothing as she takes it off, and you will be able to look upon her at your leisure. ,Then, when she moves from the chair to the bed, turning her back on you, be careful she does not see you going out through the doorway.” 1.10. As Gyges could not escape, he consented. Candaules, when he judged it to be time for bed, brought Gyges into the chamber; his wife followed presently, and when she had come in and was laying aside her garments, Gyges saw her; ,when she turned her back upon him to go to bed, he slipped from the room. The woman glimpsed him as he went out, and perceived what her husband had done. But though shamed, she did not cry out or let it be seen that she had perceived anything, for she meant to punish Candaules; ,since among the Lydians and most of the foreign peoples it is felt as a great shame that even a man be seen naked. 1.11. For the present she made no sign and kept quiet. But as soon as it was day, she prepared those of her household whom she saw were most faithful to her, and called Gyges. He, supposing that she knew nothing of what had been done, answered the summons; for he was used to attending the queen whenever she summoned him. ,When Gyges came, the lady addressed him thus: “Now, Gyges, you have two ways before you; decide which you will follow. You must either kill Candaules and take me and the throne of Lydia for your own, or be killed yourself now without more ado; that will prevent you from obeying all Candaules' commands in the future and seeing what you should not see. ,One of you must die: either he, the contriver of this plot, or you, who have outraged all custom by looking on me uncovered.” Gyges stood awhile astonished at this; presently, he begged her not to compel him to such a choice. ,But when he could not deter her, and saw that dire necessity was truly upon him either to kill his master or himself be killed by others, he chose his own life. Then he asked: “Since you force me against my will to kill my master, I would like to know how we are to lay our hands on him.” ,She replied, “You shall come at him from the same place where he made you view me naked: attack him in his sleep.” 1.12. When they had prepared this plot, and night had fallen, Gyges followed the woman into the chamber (for Gyges was not released, nor was there any means of deliverance, but either he or Candaules must die). She gave him a dagger and hid him behind the same door; ,and presently he stole out and killed Candaules as he slept. Thus he made himself master of the king's wife and sovereignty. He is mentioned in the iambic verses of Archilochus of Parus who lived about the same time. 2.134. This king, too, left a pyramid, but far smaller than his father's, each side twenty feet short of three hundred feet long, square at the base, and as much as half its height of Ethiopian stone. Some Greeks say that it was built by Rhodopis, the courtesan, but they are wrong; ,indeed, it is clear to me that they say this without even knowing who Rhodopis was (otherwise, they would never have credited her with the building of a pyramid on which what I may call an uncountable sum of money was spent), or that Rhodopis flourished in the reign of Amasis, not of Mycerinus; ,for very many years later than these kings who left the pyramids came Rhodopis, who was Thracian by birth, and a slave of Iadmon son of Hephaestopolis the Samian, and a fellow-slave of Aesop the story-writer. For he was owned by Iadmon, too, as the following made crystal clear: ,when the Delphians, obeying an oracle, issued many proclamations summoning anyone who wanted it to accept compensation for the killing of Aesop, no one accepted it except the son of Iadmon's son, another Iadmon; hence Aesop, too, was Iadmon's. 4.205. But Pheretime did not end well, either. For as soon as she had revenged herself on the Barcaeans and returned to Egypt, she met an awful death. For while still alive she teemed with maggots: thus does over-brutal human revenge invite retribution from the gods. That of Pheretime, daughter of Battus, against the Barcaeans was revenge of this nature and this brutality. 6.84.3. They say that when the Scythians had come for this purpose, Cleomenes kept rather close company with them, and by consorting with them more than was fitting he learned from them to drink strong wine. The Spartans consider him to have gone mad from this. Ever since, as they themselves say, whenever they desire a strong drink they call for “a Scythian cup.” Such is the Spartan story of Cleomenes; but to my thinking it was for what he did to Demaratus that he was punished thus. |
|
23. Thucydides, The History of The Peloponnesian War, 2.49 (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
|
24. Aratus Solensis, Phaenomena, 101-114, 96-100 (4th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
| 100. εὔκηλος φορέοιτο· λόγος γε μὲν ἐντρέχει ἄλλος | |
|
25. Cicero, On Divination, 1.126 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.126. Ex quo intellegitur, ut fatum sit non id, quod superstitiose, sed id, quod physice dicitur, causa aeterna rerum, cur et ea, quae praeterierunt, facta sint et, quae instant, fiant et, quae sequuntur, futura sint. Ita fit, ut et observatione notari possit, quae res quamque causam plerumque consequatur, etiamsi non semper (nam id quidem adfirmare difficile est), easdemque causas veri simile est rerum futurarum cerni ab iis, qui aut per furorem eas aut in quiete videant. | 1.126. Consequently, we know that Fate is that which is called, not ignorantly, but scientifically, the eternal cause of things, the wherefore of things past, of things present, and of things to come. Hence it is that it may be known by observation what effect will in most instances follow any cause, even if it is not known in all; for it would be too much to say that it is known in every case. And it is probable that these causes of coming events are perceived by those who see them during frenzy or in sleep. [56] |
|
26. Cicero, On Old Age, 52-60, 51 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
27. Moschus, Epitaph On Bion, 124-125, 123 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
28. Varro, On Agriculture, 1.2.16, 2.1.13, 3.1.5, 3.16.3-3.16.4, 3.16.6, 3.16.37-3.16.38 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
29. Diodorus Siculus, Historical Library, 1.8.1-1.8.7, 4.25 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.8.1. Concerning the first generation of the universe this is the account which we have received. But the first men to be born, he says, led an undisciplined and bestial life, setting out one by one to secure their sustece and taking for their food both the tenderest herbs and the fruits of wild trees. Then 1.8.2. since they were attacked by the wild beasts, they came to each other's aid, being instructed by expediency, and when gathered together in this way by reason of their fear, they gradually came to recognize their mutual characteristics. 1.8.3. And though the sounds which they made were at first unintelligible and indistinct, yet gradually they came to give articulation to their speech, and by agreeing with one another upon symbols for each thing which presented itself to them, made known among themselves the significance which was to be attached to each term. 1.8.4. But since groups of this kind arose over every part of the inhabited world, not all men had the same language, inasmuch as every group organized the elements of its speech by mere chance. This is the explanation of the present existence of every conceivable kind of language, and, furthermore, out of these first groups to be formed came all the original nations of the world. 1.8.5. Now the first men, since none of the things useful for life had yet been discovered, led a wretched existence, having no clothing to cover them, knowing not the use of dwelling and fire, and also being totally ignorant of cultivated food. 1.8.6. For since they also even neglected the harvesting of the wild food, they laid by no store of its fruits against their needs; consequently large numbers of them perished in the winters because of the cold and the lack of food. 1.8.7. Little by little, however, experience taught them both to take to the caves in winter and to store such fruits as could be preserved. 4.25. 1. But when Heracles had made the circuit of the Adriatic, and had journeyed around the gulf on foot, he came to Epirus, whence he made his way to Peloponnesus. And now that he had performed the tenth Labour he received a Command from Eurystheus to bring Cerberus up from Hades to the light of day. And assuming that it would be to his advantage for the accomplishment of this Labour, he went to Athens and took part in the Eleusinian Mysteries, Musaeus, the son of Orpheus, being at that time in charge of the initiatory rites.,2. Since we have mentioned Orpheus it will not be inappropriate for us in passing to speak briefly about him. He was the son of Oeagrus, a Thracian by birth, and in culture and song-music and poesy he far surpassed all men of whom we have a record; for he composed a poem which was an object of wonder and excelled in its melody when it was sung. And his fame grew to such a degree that men believed that with his music he held a spell over both the wild beasts and the trees.,3. And after he had devoted his entire time to his education and had learned whatever the myths had to say about the gods, he journeyed to Egypt, where he further increased his knowledge and so became the greatest man among the Greeks both for his knowledge of the gods and for their rites, as well as for his poems and songs.,4. He also took part in the expedition of the Argonauts, and because of the love he held for his wife he dared the amazing deed of descending into Hades, where he entranced Persephonê by his melodious song and persuaded her to assist him in his desires and to allow him to bring up his dead wife from Hades, in this exploit resembling Dionysus; for the myths relate that Dionysus brought up his mother Semelê from Hades, and that, sharing with her his own immortality, he changed her name to Thyonê. But now that we have discussed Orpheus, we shall return to Heracles. |
|
30. Dionysius of Halycarnassus, Roman Antiquities, 1.36-1.37 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.36. 1. There is another legend related by the inhabitants, to the effect that before the reign of Jupiter Saturn was lord in this land and that the celebrated manner of life in his reign, abounding in the produce of every season, was enjoyed by none more than them.,2. And, indeed, if anyone, setting aside the fabulous part of this account, will examine the merit of any country from which mankind received the greatest enjoyments immediately after their birth, whether they sprang from the earth, according to the ancient tradition, or came into being in some other manner, he will find none more beneficent to them than this. For, to compare one country with another of the same extent, Italy is, in my opinion, the best country, not only of Europe, but even of all the rest of the world.,3. And yet I am not unaware that I shall not be believed by many when they reflect on Egypt, Libya, Babylonia and any other fertile countries there may be. But I, for my part, do not limit the wealth derived from the soil to one sort of produce, nor do I feel any eagerness to live where there are only rich arable lands and little or nothing else that is useful; but I account that country the best which is the most self-sufficient and generally stands least in need of imported commodities. And I am persuaded that Italy enjoys this universal fertility and diversity of advantages beyond any other land. 1.37. 1. For Italy does not, while possessing a great deal of good arable land, lack trees, as does a grain-bearing country; nor, on the other hand, while suitable for growing all manner of trees, does it, when sown to grain, produce scanty crops, as does a timbered country; nor yet, while yielding both grain and trees in abundance, is it unsuitable for the grazing of cattle; nor can anyone say that, while it bears rich produce of crops and timber and herds, it is nevertheless disagreeable for men to live in. Nay, on the contrary, it abounds in practically everything that affords either pleasure or profit.,2. To what grain-bearing country, indeed, watered, not with rivers, but with rains from heaven, do the plains of Campania yield, in which I have seen fields that produce even three crops in a year, summer's harvest following upon that of winter and autumn's upon that of summer? To what olive orchards are those of the Messapians, the Daunians, the Sabines and many others inferior? To what vineyards those of Tyrrhenia and the Alban and the Falernian districts, where the soil is wonderfully kind to vines and with the least labour produces the finest grapes in the greatest abundance?,3. And besides the land that is cultivated one will find much that is left untilled as pasturage for sheep and goats, and still more extensive and more wonderful is the land suitable for grazing horses and cattle; for not only the marsh and meadow grass, which is very plentiful, but the dewy and well-watered grass of the glades, infinite in its abundance, furnish grazing for them in summer as well as in winter and keep them always in good condition.,4. But most wonderful of all are the forests growing upon the rocky heights, in the glens and on the uncultivated hills, from which the inhabitants are abundantly supplied with fine timber suitable for the building of ships as well as for all other purposes. Nor are any of these materials hard to come at or at a distance from human need, but they are easy to handle and readily available, owing to the multitude of rivers that flow through the whole peninsula and make the transportation and exchange of everything the land produces inexpensive.,5. Springs also of hot water have been discovered in many places, affording most pleasant baths and sovereign cures for chronic ailments. There are also mines of all sorts, plenty of wild beasts for hunting, and a great variety of sea fish, besides innumerable other things, some useful and others of a nature to excite wonder. But the finest thing of all is the climate, admirably tempered by the seasons, so that less than elsewhere is harm done by excessive cold or inordinate heat either to the growing fruits and grains or to the bodies of animals. |
|
31. Horace, Epodes, 7.18 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
32. Lucretius Carus, On The Nature of Things, 1.10-1.20, 1.117-1.118, 1.250-1.261, 2.48-2.53, 2.1093-2.1104, 3.25, 4.751-4.770, 5.680-5.704, 5.780, 5.855-5.877, 5.931-5.932, 5.944, 5.953-5.961, 5.973-5.987, 5.990-5.998, 5.1019-5.1027, 5.1105-5.1135, 5.1183-5.1193, 5.1281-5.1296, 5.1350-5.1411, 5.1452-5.1453, 6.96-6.422, 6.535-6.607, 6.639-6.711, 6.1090-6.1097, 6.1117-6.1124, 6.1132, 6.1138-6.1286 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
33. Ovid, Amores, 3.8.35-3.8.36 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
|
34. Ovid, Metamorphoses, 1.89-1.150, 8.6-8.151 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
|
35. Strabo, Geography, 6.4.1 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 6.4.1. Such, indeed, is the size and such the character of Italy. And while I have already mentioned many things which have caused the Romans at the present time to be exalted to so great a height, I shall now indicate the most important things. One is, that, like an island, Italy is securely guarded by the seas on all sides, except in a few regions, and even these are fortified by mountains that are hardly passable. A second is that along most of its coast it is harborless and that the harbors it does have are large and admirable. The former is useful in meeting attacks from the outside, while the latter is helpful in making counter-attacks and in promoting an abundant commerce. A third is that it is characterized by many differences of air and temperature, on which depend the greater variation, whether for better or for worse, in animals, plants, and, in short, everything that is useful for the support of life. Its length extends from north to south, generally speaking, and Sicily counts as an addition to its length, already so great. Now mild temperature and harsh temperature of the air are judged by heat, cold, and their intermediates; and so from this it necessarily follows that what is now Italy, situated as it is between the two extremes and extending to such a length, shares very largely in the temperate zone and in a very large number of ways. And the following is still another advantage which has fallen to the lot of Italy; since the Apennine Mountains extend through the whole of its length and leave on both sides plains and hills which bear fine fruits, there is no part of it which does not enjoy the blessings of both mountain and plain. And add also to this the size and number of its rivers and its lakes, and, besides these, the fountains of water, both hot and cold, which in many places nature has provided as an aid to health, and then again its good supply of mines of all sorts. Neither can one worthily describe Italy's abundant supply of fuel, and of food both for men and beast, and the excellence of its fruits. Further, since it lies intermediate between the largest races on the one hand, and Greece and the best parts of Libya on the other, it not only is naturally well-suited to hegemony, because it surpasses the countries that surround it both in the valor of its people and in size, but also can easily avail itself of their services, because it is close to them. |
|
36. Tibullus, Elegies, 1.3.35-1.3.50, 1.10.1-1.10.12 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
37. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.55, 1.464, 1.603-1.605, 2.428, 4.68-4.73, 5.229, 5.651, 8.327, 8.649, 8.728, 11.831, 12.786, 12.952 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.55. knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain 1.464. lace up in purple buskin. Yonder lies 1.603. or with the flowing honey storing close 1.604. the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er 1.605. with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm 2.428. defensive gather. Frenzy and vast rage 4.68. how far may not our Punic fame extend 4.69. in deeds of power? Call therefore on the gods 4.70. to favor thee; and, after omens fair 4.71. give queenly welcome, and contrive excuse 4.72. to make him tarry, while yon wintry seas 4.73. are loud beneath Orion's stormful star 5.229. who, in a trice, betwixt the booming reef 5.651. First, with loud arrow whizzing from the string 8.327. which gods abhor; and to the realms on high 8.649. his people rose in furious despair 8.728. adored, as yesterday, the household gods 11.831. took flight and hurried far with loose-flung rein. 12.786. Aeneas, calling on the gods to hear 12.952. were battering the foundations, now laid by |
|
38. Vergil, Eclogues, 1.1, 1.24-1.25, 4.18-4.25, 4.32-4.33 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.1. You, Tityrus, 'neath a broad beech-canopy 1.24. from hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry. 1.25. But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell. TITYRUS 4.18. hall free the earth from never-ceasing fear. 4.19. He shall receive the life of gods, and see 4.20. heroes with gods commingling, and himself 4.21. be seen of them, and with his father's worth 4.22. reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy 4.23. first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth 4.24. her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray 4.25. with foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed 4.32. die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far 4.33. and wide Assyrian spices spring. But soon |
|
39. Vergil, Georgics, 1.1-1.42, 1.47, 1.50, 1.60-1.63, 1.84, 1.86-1.93, 1.100, 1.118-1.146, 1.150-1.151, 1.155-1.160, 1.176-1.186, 1.199-1.203, 1.229, 1.233-1.249, 1.257, 1.276, 1.278-1.283, 1.316-1.334, 1.338, 1.351-1.355, 1.401-1.404, 1.415-1.423, 1.425-1.435, 1.439, 1.446-1.447, 1.463-1.502, 1.505-1.514, 2.45-2.46, 2.61-2.62, 2.103-2.108, 2.136-2.147, 2.149-2.157, 2.161-2.164, 2.167-2.170, 2.172-2.176, 2.323-2.345, 2.397, 2.405, 2.412, 2.438-2.439, 2.455, 2.458-2.460, 2.467-2.483, 2.486-2.490, 2.498, 2.503-2.512, 2.514-2.516, 2.527-2.540, 3.1, 3.3-3.22, 3.26-3.34, 3.77, 3.89-3.100, 3.115-3.117, 3.152-3.153, 3.236, 3.244, 3.258-3.263, 3.266-3.269, 3.272-3.277, 3.285, 3.289, 3.291-3.292, 3.299, 3.313, 3.343-3.344, 3.347-3.383, 3.391-3.393, 3.440, 3.454-3.456, 3.468, 3.471, 3.475, 3.478-3.566, 4.1-4.50, 4.59-4.61, 4.67-4.215, 4.217-4.280, 4.286, 4.295-4.315, 4.318, 4.321-4.332, 4.392-4.400, 4.438-4.440, 4.443, 4.445, 4.448, 4.450-4.456, 4.464-4.477, 4.481-4.493, 4.495, 4.504-4.505, 4.507-4.529, 4.532, 4.534-4.566 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.1. What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star 1.2. Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod 1.3. Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer; 1.4. What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof 1.5. of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;— 1.6. Such are my themes. O universal light 1.7. Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year 1.8. Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild 1.9. If by your bounty holpen earth once changed 1.10. Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear 1.11. And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift 1.12. The draughts of Achelous; and ye Faun 1.13. To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Faun 1.14. And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing. 1.15. And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first 1.16. Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke 1.17. Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom 1.18. Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes 1.19. The fertile brakes of placeName key= 1.20. Thy native forest and Lycean lawns 1.21. Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love 1.22. of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear 1.23. And help, O lord of placeName key= 1.24. Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung; 1.25. And boy-discoverer of the curved plough; 1.26. And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn 1.27. Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses 1.28. Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse 1.29. The tender unsown increase, and from heaven 1.30. Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain: 1.31. And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet 1.32. What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon 1.33. Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will 1.34. Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge 1.35. That so the mighty world may welcome thee 1.36. Lord of her increase, master of her times 1.37. Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow 1.38. Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come 1.39. Sole dread of seamen, till far placeName key= 1.40. Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son 1.41. With all her waves for dower; or as a star 1.42. Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer 1.47. For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king 1.50. Elysium's fields, and Proserpine not heed 1.60. And teach the furrow-burnished share to shine. 1.61. That land the craving farmer's prayer fulfils 1.62. Which twice the sunshine, twice the frost has felt; 1.63. Ay, that's the land whose boundless harvest-crop 1.84. By the ripe suns of summer; but if the earth 1.86. With shallower trench uptilt it—'twill suffice; 1.87. There, lest weeds choke the crop's luxuriance, here 1.88. Lest the scant moisture fail the barren sand. 1.89. Then thou shalt suffer in alternate year 1.90. The new-reaped fields to rest, and on the plain 1.91. A crust of sloth to harden; or, when star 1.92. Are changed in heaven, there sow the golden grain 1.93. Where erst, luxuriant with its quivering pod 1.100. With refuse rich to soak the thirsty soil 1.118. Hales o'er them; from the far Olympian height 1.119. Him golden Ceres not in vain regards; 1.120. And he, who having ploughed the fallow plain 1.121. And heaved its furrowy ridges, turns once more 1.122. Cross-wise his shattering share, with stroke on stroke 1.123. The earth assails, and makes the field his thrall. 1.124. Pray for wet summers and for winters fine 1.125. Ye husbandmen; in winter's dust the crop 1.126. Exceedingly rejoice, the field hath joy; 1.127. No tilth makes placeName key= 1.128. Nor Gargarus his own harvests so admire. 1.129. Why tell of him, who, having launched his seed 1.130. Sets on for close encounter, and rakes smooth 1.131. The dry dust hillocks, then on the tender corn 1.132. Lets in the flood, whose waters follow fain; 1.133. And when the parched field quivers, and all the blade 1.134. Are dying, from the brow of its hill-bed 1.135. See! see! he lures the runnel; down it falls 1.136. Waking hoarse murmurs o'er the polished stones 1.137. And with its bubblings slakes the thirsty fields? 1.138. Or why of him, who lest the heavy ear 1.139. O'erweigh the stalk, while yet in tender blade 1.140. Feeds down the crop's luxuriance, when its growth 1.141. First tops the furrows? Why of him who drain 1.142. The marsh-land's gathered ooze through soaking sand 1.143. Chiefly what time in treacherous moons a stream 1.144. Goes out in spate, and with its coat of slime 1.145. Holds all the country, whence the hollow dyke 1.146. Sweat steaming vapour? 1.150. Do greedy goose and Strymon-haunting crane 1.151. And succory's bitter fibres cease to harm 1.155. The slumbering glebe, whetting the minds of men 1.156. With care on care, nor suffering realm of hi 1.157. In drowsy sloth to stagnate. Before Jove 1.158. Fields knew no taming hand of husbandmen; 1.159. To mark the plain or mete with boundary-line— 1.160. Even this was impious; for the common stock 1.176. And hem with hounds the mighty forest-glades. 1.177. Soon one with hand-net scourges the broad stream 1.178. Probing its depths, one drags his dripping toil 1.179. Along the main; then iron's unbending might 1.180. And shrieking saw-blade,—for the men of old 1.181. With wedges wont to cleave the splintering log;— 1.182. Then divers arts arose; toil conquered all 1.183. Remorseless toil, and poverty's shrewd push 1.184. In times of hardship. Ceres was the first 1.185. Set mortals on with tools to turn the sod 1.186. When now the awful groves 'gan fail to bear 1.199. Alack! thy neighbour's heaped-up harvest-mow 1.200. And in the greenwood from a shaken oak 1.201. Seek solace for thine hunger. 1.202. Now to tell 1.203. The sturdy rustics' weapons, what they are 1.229. Lest weeds arise, or dust a passage win 1.233. Or burrow for their bed the purblind moles 1.234. Or toad is found in hollows, and all the swarm 1.235. of earth's unsightly creatures; or a huge 1.236. Corn-heap the weevil plunders, and the ant 1.237. Fearful of coming age and penury. 1.238. Mark too, what time the walnut in the wood 1.239. With ample bloom shall clothe her, and bow down 1.240. Her odorous branches, if the fruit prevail 1.241. Like store of grain will follow, and there shall come 1.242. A mighty winnowing-time with mighty heat; 1.243. But if the shade with wealth of leaves abound 1.244. Vainly your threshing-floor will bruise the stalk 1.245. Rich but in chaff. Many myself have seen 1.246. Steep, as they sow, their pulse-seeds, drenching them 1.247. With nitre and black oil-lees, that the fruit 1.248. Might swell within the treacherous pods, and they 1.249. Make speed to boil at howso small a fire. 1.257. His arms to slacken, lo! with headlong force 1.276. Opens the year, before whose threatening front 1.278. For wheaten harvest and the hardy spelt 1.279. Thou tax the soil, to corn-ears wholly given 1.280. Let Atlas' daughters hide them in the dawn 1.281. The Cretan star, a crown of fire, depart 1.282. Or e'er the furrow's claim of seed thou quit 1.283. Or haste thee to entrust the whole year's hope 1.316. And when the first breath of his panting steed 1.317. On us the Orient flings, that hour with them 1.318. Red Vesper 'gins to trim his 'lated fires. 1.319. Hence under doubtful skies forebode we can 1.320. The coming tempests, hence both harvest-day 1.321. And seed-time, when to smite the treacherous main 1.322. With driving oars, when launch the fair-rigged fleet 1.323. Or in ripe hour to fell the forest-pine. 1.324. Hence, too, not idly do we watch the stars— 1.325. Their rising and their setting-and the year 1.326. Four varying seasons to one law conformed. 1.327. If chilly showers e'er shut the farmer's door 1.328. Much that had soon with sunshine cried for haste 1.329. He may forestall; the ploughman batters keen 1.330. His blunted share's hard tooth, scoops from a tree 1.331. His troughs, or on the cattle stamps a brand 1.332. Or numbers on the corn-heaps; some make sharp 1.333. The stakes and two-pronged forks, and willow-band 1.334. Amerian for the bending vine prepare. 1.338. Nay even on holy days some tasks to ply 1.351. Coeus, Iapetus, and Typhoeus fell 1.352. And those sworn brethren banded to break down 1.353. The gates of heaven; thrice, sooth to say, they strove 1.354. Ossa on placeName key= 1.355. Aye, and on Ossa to up-roll amain 1.401. Seen all the windy legions clash in war 1.402. Together, as to rend up far and wide 1.403. The heavy corn-crop from its lowest roots 1.404. And toss it skyward: so might winter's flaw 1.415. Wields with red hand the levin; through all her bulk 1.416. Earth at the hurly quakes; the beasts are fled 1.417. And mortal hearts of every kindred sunk 1.418. In cowering terror; he with flaming brand 1.419. Athos , or Rhodope, or Ceraunian crag 1.420. Precipitates: then doubly raves the South 1.421. With shower on blinding shower, and woods and coast 1.422. Wail fitfully beneath the mighty blast. 1.423. This fearing, mark the months and Signs of heaven 1.425. And through what heavenly cycles wandereth 1.426. The glowing orb Cyllenian. Before all 1.427. Worship the Gods, and to great Ceres pay 1.428. Her yearly dues upon the happy sward 1.429. With sacrifice, anigh the utmost end 1.430. of winter, and when Spring begins to smile. 1.431. Then lambs are fat, and wines are mellowest then; 1.432. Then sleep is sweet, and dark the shadows fall 1.433. Upon the mountains. Let your rustic youth 1.434. To Ceres do obeisance, one and all; 1.435. And for her pleasure thou mix honeycomb 1.439. Attend it, and with shouts bid Ceres come 1.446. That bring the frost, the Sire of all himself 1.447. Ordained what warnings in her monthly round 1.463. oft, too, when wind is toward, the stars thou'lt see 1.464. From heaven shoot headlong, and through murky night 1.465. Long trails of fire white-glistening in their wake 1.466. Or light chaff flit in air with fallen leaves 1.467. Or feathers on the wave-top float and play. 1.468. But when from regions of the furious North 1.469. It lightens, and when thunder fills the hall 1.470. of Eurus and of Zephyr, all the field 1.471. With brimming dikes are flooded, and at sea 1.472. No mariner but furls his dripping sails. 1.473. Never at unawares did shower annoy: 1.474. Or, as it rises, the high-soaring crane 1.475. Flee to the vales before it, with face 1.476. Upturned to heaven, the heifer snuffs the gale 1.477. Through gaping nostrils, or about the mere 1.478. Shrill-twittering flits the swallow, and the frog 1.479. Crouch in the mud and chant their dirge of old. 1.480. oft, too, the ant from out her inmost cells 1.481. Fretting the narrow path, her eggs conveys; 1.482. Or the huge bow sucks moisture; or a host 1.483. of rooks from food returning in long line 1.484. Clamour with jostling wings. Now mayst thou see 1.485. The various ocean-fowl and those that pry 1.486. Round Asian meads within thy fresher-pools 1.487. Cayster, as in eager rivalry 1.488. About their shoulders dash the plenteous spray 1.489. Now duck their head beneath the wave, now run 1.490. Into the billows, for sheer idle joy 1.491. of their mad bathing-revel. Then the crow 1.492. With full voice, good-for-naught, inviting rain 1.493. Stalks on the dry sand mateless and alone. 1.494. Nor e'en the maids, that card their nightly task 1.495. Know not the storm-sign, when in blazing crock 1.496. They see the lamp-oil sputtering with a growth 1.497. of mouldy snuff-clots. 1.498. So too, after rain 1.499. Sunshine and open skies thou mayst forecast 1.500. And learn by tokens sure, for then nor dimmed 1.501. Appear the stars' keen edges, nor the moon 1.502. As borrowing of her brother's beams to rise 1.505. Do halcyons dear to Thetis ope their wings 1.506. Nor filthy swine take thought to toss on high 1.507. With scattering snout the straw-wisps. But the cloud 1.508. Seek more the vales, and rest upon the plain 1.509. And from the roof-top the night-owl for naught 1.510. Watching the sunset plies her 'lated song. 1.511. Distinct in clearest air is Nisus seen 1.512. Towering, and Scylla for the purple lock 1.513. Pays dear; for whereso, as she flies, her wing 1.514. The light air winnow, lo! fierce, implacable 2.45. Pear-tree transformed the ingrafted apple yield 2.46. And stony cornels on the plum-tree blush. 2.61. Skirt but the nearer coast-line; see the shore 2.62. Is in our grasp; not now with feigned song 2.103. Wherein from some strange tree a germ they pen 2.104. And to the moist rind bid it cleave and grow. 2.105. Or, otherwise, in knotless trunks is hewn 2.106. A breach, and deep into the solid grain 2.107. A path with wedges cloven; then fruitful slip 2.108. Are set herein, and—no long time—behold! 2.136. But lo! how many kinds, and what their names 2.137. There is no telling, nor doth it boot to tell; 2.138. Who lists to know it, he too would list to learn 2.139. How many sand-grains are by Zephyr tossed 2.140. On placeName key= 2.141. With fury on the ships, how many wave 2.142. Come rolling shoreward from the Ionian sea. 2.143. Not that all soils can all things bear alike. 2.144. Willows by water-courses have their birth 2.145. Alders in miry fens; on rocky height 2.146. The barren mountain-ashes; on the shore 2.147. Myrtles throng gayest; Bacchus, lastly, love 2.149. Mark too the earth by outland tillers tamed 2.150. And Eastern homes of Arabs, and tattooed 2.151. Geloni; to all trees their native land 2.152. Allotted are; no clime but placeName key= 2.153. Black ebony; the branch of frankincense 2.154. Is placeName key= 2.155. of balsams oozing from the perfumed wood 2.156. Or berries of acanthus ever green? 2.157. of Aethiop forests hoar with downy wool 2.161. Where not an arrow-shot can cleave the air 2.162. Above their tree-tops? yet no laggards they 2.163. When girded with the quiver! Media yield 2.164. The bitter juices and slow-lingering taste 2.167. With simples mixed and spells of baneful power 2.168. To drive the deadly poison from the limbs. 2.169. Large the tree's self in semblance like a bay 2.170. And, showered it not a different scent abroad 2.172. Its foliage falls; the flower, none faster, clings; 2.173. With it the Medes for sweetness lave the lips 2.174. And ease the panting breathlessness of age. 2.175. But no, not Mede-land with its wealth of woods 2.176. Nor Ganges fair, and Hermus thick with gold 2.323. A glance will serve to warn thee which is black 2.324. Or what the hue of any. But hard it i 2.325. To track the signs of that pernicious cold: 2.326. Pines only, noxious yews, and ivies dark 2.327. At times reveal its traces. 2.328. All these rule 2.329. Regarding, let your land, ay, long before 2.330. Scorch to the quick, and into trenches carve 2.331. The mighty mountains, and their upturned clod 2.332. Bare to the north wind, ere thou plant therein 2.333. The vine's prolific kindred. Fields whose soil 2.334. Is crumbling are the best: winds look to that 2.335. And bitter hoar-frosts, and the delver's toil 2.336. Untiring, as he stirs the loosened glebe. 2.337. But those, whose vigilance no care escapes 2.338. Search for a kindred site, where first to rear 2.339. A nursery for the trees, and eke whereto 2.340. Soon to translate them, lest the sudden shock 2.341. From their new mother the young plants estrange. 2.342. Nay, even the quarter of the sky they brand 2.343. Upon the bark, that each may be restored 2.344. As erst it stood, here bore the southern heats 2.345. Here turned its shoulder to the northern pole; 2.397. Can they recover, and from the earth beneath 2.405. Comes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor 2.412. With quickening showers to his glad wife's embrace 2.438. Take heed to hide them, and dig in withal 2.439. Rough shells or porous stone, for therebetween 2.455. From story up to story. 2.458. Forbear their frailty, and while yet the bough 2.459. Shoots joyfully toward heaven, with loosened rein 2.460. Launched on the void, assail it not as yet 2.467. Hedges too must be woven and all beast 2.468. Barred entrance, chiefly while the leaf is young 2.469. And witless of disaster; for therewith 2.470. Beside harsh winters and o'erpowering sun 2.471. Wild buffaloes and pestering goats for ay 2.472. Besport them, sheep and heifers glut their greed. 2.473. Nor cold by hoar-frost curdled, nor the prone 2.474. Dead weight of summer upon the parched crags 2.475. So scathe it, as the flocks with venom-bite 2.476. of their hard tooth, whose gnawing scars the stem. 2.477. For no offence but this to Bacchus bleed 2.478. The goat at every altar, and old play 2.479. Upon the stage find entrance; therefore too 2.480. The sons of Theseus through the country-side— 2.481. Hamlet and crossway—set the prize of wit 2.482. And on the smooth sward over oiled skin 2.483. Dance in their tipsy frolic. Furthermore 2.486. Grim masks of hollowed bark assume, invoke 2.487. Thee with glad hymns, O Bacchus, and to thee 2.488. Hang puppet-faces on tall pines to swing. 2.489. Hence every vineyard teems with mellowing fruit 2.490. Till hollow vale o'erflows, and gorge profound 2.498. Hath needs beyond exhausting; the whole soil 2.503. As on its own track rolls the circling year. 2.504. Soon as the vine her lingering leaves hath shed 2.505. And the chill north wind from the forests shook 2.506. Their coronal, even then the careful swain 2.507. Looks keenly forward to the coming year 2.508. With Saturn's curved fang pursues and prune 2.509. The vine forlorn, and lops it into shape. 2.510. Be first to dig the ground up, first to clear 2.511. And burn the refuse-branches, first to house 2.512. Again your vine-poles, last to gather fruit. 2.514. Twice weeds with stifling briers o'ergrow the crop; 2.515. And each a toilsome labour. Do thou praise 2.516. Broad acres, farm but few. Rough twigs beside 2.527. When once they have gripped the soil, and borne the breeze. 2.528. Earth of herself, with hooked fang laid bare 2.529. Yields moisture for the plants, and heavy fruit 2.530. The ploughshare aiding; therewithal thou'lt rear 2.531. The olive's fatness well-beloved of Peace. 2.532. Apples, moreover, soon as first they feel 2.533. Their stems wax lusty, and have found their strength 2.534. To heaven climb swiftly, self-impelled, nor crave 2.535. Our succour. All the grove meanwhile no le 2.536. With fruit is swelling, and the wild haunts of bird 2.537. Blush with their blood-red berries. Cytisu 2.538. Is good to browse on, the tall forest yield 2.539. Pine-torches, and the nightly fires are fed 2.540. And shoot forth radiance. And shall men be loath 3.1. Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee 3.3. You, woods and waves Lycaean. All themes beside 3.4. Which else had charmed the vacant mind with song 3.5. Are now waxed common. of harsh Eurystheus who 3.6. The story knows not, or that praiseless king 3.7. Busiris, and his altars? or by whom 3.8. Hath not the tale been told of Hylas young 3.9. Latonian Delos and Hippodame 3.10. And Pelops for his ivory shoulder famed 3.11. Keen charioteer? Needs must a path be tried 3.12. By which I too may lift me from the dust 3.13. And float triumphant through the mouths of men. 3.14. Yea, I shall be the first, so life endure 3.15. To lead the Muses with me, as I pa 3.16. To mine own country from the Aonian height; 3.17. I, placeName key= 3.18. of Idumaea, and raise a marble shrine 3.19. On thy green plain fast by the water-side 3.20. Where Mincius winds more vast in lazy coils 3.21. And rims his margent with the tender reed. 3.22. Amid my shrine shall Caesar's godhead dwell. 3.26. Leaving Alpheus and Molorchus' grove 3.27. On foot shall strive, or with the raw-hide glove; 3.28. Whilst I, my head with stripped green olive crowned 3.29. Will offer gifts. Even 'tis present joy 3.30. To lead the high processions to the fane 3.31. And view the victims felled; or how the scene 3.32. Sunders with shifted face, and placeName key= 3.33. Inwoven thereon with those proud curtains rise. 3.34. of gold and massive ivory on the door 3.77. The age for Hymen's rites, Lucina's pangs 3.89. Renew them still; with yearly choice of young 3.90. Preventing losses, lest too late thou rue. 3.91. Nor steeds crave less selection; but on those 3.92. Thou think'st to rear, the promise of their line 3.93. From earliest youth thy chiefest pains bestow. 3.94. See from the first yon high-bred colt afield 3.95. His lofty step, his limbs' elastic tread: 3.96. Dauntless he leads the herd, still first to try 3.97. The threatening flood, or brave the unknown bridge 3.98. By no vain noise affrighted; lofty-necked 3.99. With clean-cut head, short belly, and stout back; 3.100. His sprightly breast exuberant with brawn. 3.115. The heights of 3.116. Even him, when sore disease or sluggish eld 3.117. Now saps his strength, pen fast at home, and spare 3.152. To plump with solid fat the chosen chief 3.153. And designated husband of the herd: 3.236. Alternately to curve each bending leg 3.244. And rippling plains 'gin shiver with light gusts; 3.258. Whether on steed or steer thy choice be set. 3.259. Ay, therefore 'tis they banish bulls afar 3.260. To solitary pastures, or behind 3.261. Some mountain-barrier, or broad streams beyond 3.262. Or else in plenteous stalls pen fast at home. 3.263. For, even through sight of her, the female waste 3.266. With her sweet charms can lovers proud compel 3.267. To battle for the conquest horn to horn. 3.268. In Sila's forest feeds the heifer fair 3.269. While each on each the furious rivals run; 3.272. With mighty groaning; all the forest-side 3.273. And far placeName key= 3.274. Nor wont the champions in one stall to couch; 3.275. But he that's worsted hies him to strange clime 3.276. Far off, an exile, moaning much the shame 3.277. The blows of that proud conqueror, then love's lo 3.285. Provokes the air, and scattering clouds of sand 3.289. As in mid ocean when a wave far of 3.291. Its rounded breast, and, onward rolled to land 3.292. Falls with prodigious roar among the rocks 3.299. Never than then more fiercely o'er the plain 3.313. Hardens each wallowing shoulder to the wound. 3.343. By shepherds truly named hippomanes 3.344. Hippomanes, fell stepdames oft have culled 3.347. As point to point our charmed round we trace. 3.348. Enough of herds. This second task remains 3.349. The wool-clad flocks and shaggy goats to treat. 3.350. Here lies a labour; hence for glory look 3.351. Brave husbandmen. Nor doubtfully know 3.352. How hard it is for words to triumph here 3.353. And shed their lustre on a theme so slight: 3.354. But I am caught by ravishing desire 3.355. Above the lone Parnassian steep; I love 3.356. To walk the heights, from whence no earlier track 3.357. Slopes gently downward to Castalia's spring. 3.358. Now, awful Pales, strike a louder tone. 3.359. First, for the sheep soft pencotes I decree 3.360. To browse in, till green summer's swift return; 3.361. And that the hard earth under them with straw 3.362. And handfuls of the fern be littered deep 3.363. Lest chill of ice such tender cattle harm 3.364. With scab and loathly foot-rot. Passing thence 3.365. I bid the goats with arbute-leaves be stored 3.366. And served with fresh spring-water, and their pen 3.367. Turned southward from the blast, to face the sun 3.368. of winter, when Aquarius' icy beam 3.369. Now sinks in showers upon the parting year. 3.370. These too no lightlier our protection claim 3.371. Nor prove of poorer service, howsoe'er 3.372. Milesian fleeces dipped in Tyrian red 3.373. Repay the barterer; these with offspring teem 3.374. More numerous; these yield plenteous store of milk: 3.375. The more each dry-wrung udder froths the pail 3.376. More copious soon the teat-pressed torrents flow. 3.377. Ay, and on Cinyps' bank the he-goats too 3.378. Their beards and grizzled chins and bristling hair 3.379. Let clip for camp-use, or as rugs to wrap 3.380. Seafaring wretches. But they browse the wood 3.381. And summits of Lycaeus, and rough briers 3.382. And brakes that love the highland: of themselve 3.383. Right heedfully the she-goats homeward troop 3.391. Sends either flock to pasture in the glades 3.392. Soon as the day-star shineth, hie we then 3.393. To the cool meadows, while the dawn is young 3.440. Whole pools are turned; and on their untrimmed beard 3.454. Oak-logs and elm-trees whole, and fire them there 3.455. There play the night out, and in festive glee 3.456. With barm and service sour the wine-cup mock. 3.468. And seek some other o'er the teeming plain. 3.471. Snared and beguiled thee, placeName key= 3.475. With salt herbs to the cote, whence more they love 3.478. Many there be who from their mothers keep 3.479. The new-born kids, and straightway bind their mouth 3.480. With iron-tipped muzzles. What they milk at dawn 3.481. Or in the daylight hours, at night they press; 3.482. What darkling or at sunset, this ere morn 3.483. They bear away in baskets—for to town 3.484. The shepherd hies him—or with dash of salt 3.485. Just sprinkle, and lay by for winter use. 3.486. Nor be thy dogs last cared for; but alike 3.487. Swift Spartan hounds and fierce Molossian feed 3.488. On fattening whey. Never, with these to watch 3.489. Dread nightly thief afold and ravening wolves 3.490. Or Spanish desperadoes in the rear. 3.491. And oft the shy wild asses thou wilt chase 3.492. With hounds, too, hunt the hare, with hounds the doe; 3.493. oft from his woodland wallowing-den uprouse 3.494. The boar, and scare him with their baying, and drive 3.495. And o'er the mountains urge into the toil 3.496. Some antlered monster to their chiming cry. 3.497. Learn also scented cedar-wood to burn 3.498. Within the stalls, and snakes of noxious smell 3.499. With fumes of galbanum to drive away. 3.500. oft under long-neglected cribs, or lurk 3.501. A viper ill to handle, that hath fled 3.502. The light in terror, or some snake, that wont 3.503. 'Neath shade and sheltering roof to creep, and shower 3.504. Its bane among the cattle, hugs the ground 3.505. Fell scourge of kine. Shepherd, seize stakes, seize stones! 3.506. And as he rears defiance, and puffs out 3.507. A hissing throat, down with him! see how low 3.508. That cowering crest is vailed in flight, the while 3.509. His midmost coils and final sweep of tail 3.510. Relaxing, the last fold drags lingering spires. 3.511. Then that vile worm that in Calabrian glade 3.512. Uprears his breast, and wreathes a scaly back 3.513. His length of belly pied with mighty spots— 3.514. While from their founts gush any streams, while yet 3.515. With showers of Spring and rainy south-winds earth 3.516. Is moistened, lo! he haunts the pools, and here 3.517. Housed in the banks, with fish and chattering frog 3.518. Crams the black void of his insatiate maw. 3.519. Soon as the fens are parched, and earth with heat 3.520. Is gaping, forth he darts into the dry 3.521. Rolls eyes of fire and rages through the fields 3.522. Furious from thirst and by the drought dismayed. 3.523. Me list not then beneath the open heaven 3.524. To snatch soft slumber, nor on forest-ridge 3.525. Lie stretched along the grass, when, slipped his slough 3.526. To glittering youth transformed he winds his spires 3.527. And eggs or younglings leaving in his lair 3.528. Towers sunward, lightening with three-forked tongue. 3.529. of sickness, too, the causes and the sign 3.530. I'll teach thee. Loathly scab assails the sheep 3.531. When chilly showers have probed them to the quick 3.532. And winter stark with hoar-frost, or when sweat 3.533. Unpurged cleaves to them after shearing done 3.534. And rough thorns rend their bodies. Hence it i 3.535. Shepherds their whole flock steep in running streams 3.536. While, plunged beneath the flood, with drenched fell 3.537. The ram, launched free, goes drifting down the tide. 3.538. Else, having shorn, they smear their bodies o'er 3.539. With acrid oil-lees, and mix silver-scum 3.540. And native sulphur and Idaean pitch 3.541. Wax mollified with ointment, and therewith 3.542. Sea-leek, strong hellebores, bitumen black. 3.543. Yet ne'er doth kindlier fortune crown his toil 3.544. Than if with blade of iron a man dare lance 3.545. The ulcer's mouth ope: for the taint is fed 3.546. And quickened by confinement; while the swain 3.547. His hand of healing from the wound withholds 3.548. Or sits for happier signs imploring heaven. 3.549. Aye, and when inward to the bleater's bone 3.550. The pain hath sunk and rages, and their limb 3.551. By thirsty fever are consumed, 'tis good 3.552. To draw the enkindled heat therefrom, and pierce 3.553. Within the hoof-clefts a blood-bounding vein. 3.554. of tribes Bisaltic such the wonted use 3.555. And keen Gelonian, when to 3.556. He flies, or Getic desert, and quaffs milk 3.557. With horse-blood curdled. Seest one far afield 3.558. oft to the shade's mild covert win, or pull 3.559. The grass tops listlessly, or hindmost lag 3.560. Or, browsing, cast her down amid the plain 3.561. At night retire belated and alone; 3.562. With quick knife check the mischief, ere it creep 3.563. With dire contagion through the unwary herd. 3.564. Less thick and fast the whirlwind scours the main 3.565. With tempest in its wake, than swarm the plague 3.566. of cattle; nor seize they single lives alone 4.1. of air-born honey, gift of heaven, I now 4.2. Take up the tale. Upon this theme no le 4.3. Look thou, Maecenas, with indulgent eye. 4.4. A marvellous display of puny powers 4.5. High-hearted chiefs, a nation's history 4.6. Its traits, its bent, its battles and its clans 4.7. All, each, shall pass before you, while I sing. 4.8. Slight though the poet's theme, not slight the praise 4.9. So frown not heaven, and Phoebus hear his call. 4.10. First find your bees a settled sure abode 4.11. Where neither winds can enter (winds blow back 4.12. The foragers with food returning home) 4.13. Nor sheep and butting kids tread down the flowers 4.14. Nor heifer wandering wide upon the plain 4.15. Dash off the dew, and bruise the springing blades. 4.16. Let the gay lizard too keep far aloof 4.17. His scale-clad body from their honied stalls 4.18. And the bee-eater, and what birds beside 4.19. And Procne smirched with blood upon the breast 4.20. From her own murderous hands. For these roam wide 4.21. Wasting all substance, or the bees themselve 4.22. Strike flying, and in their beaks bear home, to glut 4.23. Those savage nestlings with the dainty prey. 4.24. But let clear springs and moss-green pools be near 4.25. And through the grass a streamlet hurrying run 4.26. Some palm-tree o'er the porch extend its shade 4.27. Or huge-grown oleaster, that in Spring 4.28. Their own sweet Spring-tide, when the new-made chief 4.29. Lead forth the young swarms, and, escaped their comb 4.30. The colony comes forth to sport and play 4.31. The neighbouring bank may lure them from the heat 4.32. Or bough befriend with hospitable shade. 4.33. O'er the mid-waters, whether swift or still 4.34. Cast willow-branches and big stones enow 4.35. Bridge after bridge, where they may footing find 4.36. And spread their wide wings to the summer sun 4.37. If haply Eurus, swooping as they pause 4.38. Have dashed with spray or plunged them in the deep. 4.39. And let green cassias and far-scented thymes 4.40. And savory with its heavy-laden breath 4.41. Bloom round about, and violet-beds hard by 4.42. Sip sweetness from the fertilizing springs. 4.43. For the hive's self, or stitched of hollow bark 4.44. Or from tough osier woven, let the door 4.45. Be strait of entrance; for stiff winter's cold 4.46. Congeals the honey, and heat resolves and thaws 4.47. To bees alike disastrous; not for naught 4.48. So haste they to cement the tiny pore 4.49. That pierce their walls, and fill the crevice 4.50. With pollen from the flowers, and glean and keep 4.59. But near their home let neither yew-tree grow 4.60. Nor reddening crabs be roasted, and mistrust 4.61. Deep marish-ground and mire with noisome smell 4.67. Forthwith they roam the glades and forests o'er 4.68. Rifle the painted flowers, or sip the streams 4.69. Light-hovering on the surface. Hence it i 4.70. With some sweet rapture, that we know not of 4.71. Their little ones they foster, hence with skill 4.72. Work out new wax or clinging honey mould. 4.73. So when the cage-escaped hosts you see 4.74. Float heavenward through the hot clear air, until 4.75. You marvel at yon dusky cloud that spread 4.76. And lengthens on the wind, then mark them well; 4.77. For then 'tis ever the fresh springs they seek 4.78. And bowery shelter: hither must you bring 4.79. The savoury sweets I bid, and sprinkle them 4.80. Bruised balsam and the wax-flower's lowly weed 4.81. And wake and shake the tinkling cymbals heard 4.82. By the great Mother: on the anointed spot 4.83. Themselves will settle, and in wonted wise 4.84. Seek of themselves the cradle's inmost depth. 4.85. But if to battle they have hied them forth— 4.86. For oft 'twixt king and king with uproar dire 4.87. Fierce feud arises, and at once from far 4.88. You may discern what passion sways the mob 4.89. And how their hearts are throbbing for the strife; 4.90. Hark! the hoarse brazen note that warriors know 4.91. Chides on the loiterers, and the ear may catch 4.92. A sound that mocks the war-trump's broken blasts; 4.93. Then in hot haste they muster, then flash wings 4.94. Sharpen their pointed beaks and knit their thews 4.95. And round the king, even to his royal tent 4.96. Throng rallying, and with shouts defy the foe. 4.97. So, when a dry Spring and clear space is given 4.98. Forth from the gates they burst, they clash on high; 4.99. A din arises; they are heaped and rolled 4.100. Into one mighty mass, and headlong fall 4.101. Not denselier hail through heaven, nor pelting so 4.102. Rains from the shaken oak its acorn-shower. 4.103. Conspicuous by their wings the chiefs themselve 4.104. Press through the heart of battle, and display 4.105. A giant's spirit in each pigmy frame 4.106. Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those 4.107. The victor's ponderous arm has turned to flight. 4.108. Such fiery passions and such fierce assault 4.109. A little sprinkled dust controls and quells. 4.110. And now, both leaders from the field recalled 4.111. Who hath the worser seeming, do to death 4.112. Lest royal waste wax burdensome, but let 4.113. His better lord it on the empty throne. 4.114. One with gold-burnished flakes will shine like fire 4.115. For twofold are their kinds, the nobler he 4.116. of peerless front and lit with flashing scales; 4.117. That other, from neglect and squalor foul 4.118. Drags slow a cumbrous belly. As with kings 4.119. So too with people, diverse is their mould 4.120. Some rough and loathly, as when the wayfarer 4.121. Scapes from a whirl of dust, and scorched with heat 4.122. Spits forth the dry grit from his parched mouth: 4.123. The others shine forth and flash with lightning-gleam 4.124. Their backs all blazoned with bright drops of gold 4.125. Symmetric: this the likelier breed; from these 4.126. When heaven brings round the season, thou shalt strain 4.127. Sweet honey, nor yet so sweet as passing clear 4.128. And mellowing on the tongue the wine-god's fire. 4.129. But when the swarms fly aimlessly abroad 4.130. Disport themselves in heaven and spurn their cells 4.131. Leaving the hive unwarmed, from such vain play 4.132. Must you refrain their volatile desires 4.133. Nor hard the task: tear off the monarchs' wings; 4.134. While these prove loiterers, none beside will dare 4.135. Mount heaven, or pluck the standards from the camp. 4.136. Let gardens with the breath of saffron flower 4.137. Allure them, and the lord of placeName key= 4.138. Priapus, wielder of the willow-scythe 4.139. Safe in his keeping hold from birds and thieves. 4.140. And let the man to whom such cares are dear 4.141. Himself bring thyme and pine-trees from the heights 4.142. And strew them in broad belts about their home; 4.143. No hand but his the blistering task should ply 4.144. Plant the young slips, or shed the genial showers. 4.145. And I myself, were I not even now 4.146. Furling my sails, and, nigh the journey's end 4.147. Eager to turn my vessel's prow to shore 4.148. Perchance would sing what careful husbandry 4.149. Makes the trim garden smile; of placeName key= 4.150. Whose roses bloom and fade and bloom again; 4.151. How endives glory in the streams they drink 4.152. And green banks in their parsley, and how the gourd 4.153. Twists through the grass and rounds him to paunch; 4.154. Nor of Narcissus had my lips been dumb 4.155. That loiterer of the flowers, nor supple-stemmed 4.156. Acanthus, with the praise of ivies pale 4.157. And myrtles clinging to the shores they love. 4.158. For 'neath the shade of tall Oebalia's towers 4.159. Where dark Galaesus laves the yellowing fields 4.160. An old man once I mind me to have seen— 4.161. From Corycus he came—to whom had fallen 4.162. Some few poor acres of neglected land 4.163. And they nor fruitful' neath the plodding steer 4.164. Meet for the grazing herd, nor good for vines. 4.165. Yet he, the while his meagre garden-herb 4.166. Among the thorns he planted, and all round 4.167. White lilies, vervains, and lean poppy set 4.168. In pride of spirit matched the wealth of kings 4.169. And home returning not till night was late 4.170. With unbought plenty heaped his board on high. 4.171. He was the first to cull the rose in spring 4.172. He the ripe fruits in autumn; and ere yet 4.173. Winter had ceased in sullen ire to rive 4.174. The rocks with frost, and with her icy bit 4.175. Curb in the running waters, there was he 4.176. Plucking the rathe faint hyacinth, while he chid 4.177. Summer's slow footsteps and the lagging West. 4.178. Therefore he too with earliest brooding bee 4.179. And their full swarms o'erflowed, and first was he 4.180. To press the bubbling honey from the comb; 4.181. Lime-trees were his, and many a branching pine; 4.182. And all the fruits wherewith in early bloom 4.183. The orchard-tree had clothed her, in full tale 4.184. Hung there, by mellowing autumn perfected. 4.185. He too transplanted tall-grown elms a-row 4.186. Time-toughened pear, thorns bursting with the plum 4.187. And plane now yielding serviceable shade 4.188. For dry lips to drink under: but these things 4.189. Shut off by rigorous limits, I pass by 4.190. And leave for others to sing after me. 4.191. Come, then, I will unfold the natural power 4.192. Great Jove himself upon the bees bestowed 4.193. The boon for which, led by the shrill sweet strain 4.194. of the Curetes and their clashing brass 4.195. They fed the King of heaven in Dicte's cave. 4.196. Alone of all things they receive and hold 4.197. Community of offspring, and they house 4.198. Together in one city, and beneath 4.199. The shelter of majestic laws they live; 4.200. And they alone fixed home and country know 4.201. And in the summer, warned of coming cold 4.202. Make proof of toil, and for the general store 4.203. Hoard up their gathered harvesting. For some 4.204. Watch o'er the victualling of the hive, and these 4.205. By settled order ply their tasks afield; 4.206. And some within the confines of their home 4.207. Plant firm the comb's first layer, Narcissus' tear 4.208. And sticky gum oozed from the bark of trees 4.209. Then set the clinging wax to hang therefrom. 4.210. Others the while lead forth the full-grown young 4.211. Their country's hope, and others press and pack 4.212. The thrice repured honey, and stretch their cell 4.213. To bursting with the clear-strained nectar sweet. 4.214. Some, too, the wardship of the gates befalls 4.215. Who watch in turn for showers and cloudy skies 4.217. Or form a band and from their precincts drive 4.218. The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work! 4.219. How sweet the honey smells of perfumed thyme 4.220. Like the Cyclopes, when in haste they forge 4.221. From the slow-yielding ore the thunderbolts 4.222. Some from the bull's-hide bellows in and out 4.223. Let the blasts drive, some dip i' the water-trough 4.224. The sputtering metal: with the anvil's weight 4.225. Groans placeName key= 4.226. With giant strength uplift their sinewy arms 4.227. Or twist the iron with the forceps' grip— 4.228. Not otherwise, to measure small with great 4.229. The love of getting planted in their breast 4.230. Goads on the bees, that haunt old Cecrops' heights 4.231. Each in his sphere to labour. The old have charge 4.232. To keep the town, and build the walled combs 4.233. And mould the cunning chambers; but the youth 4.234. Their tired legs packed with thyme, come labouring home 4.235. Belated, for afar they range to feed 4.236. On arbutes and the grey-green willow-leaves 4.237. And cassia and the crocus blushing red 4.238. Glue-yielding limes, and hyacinths dusky-eyed. 4.239. One hour for rest have all, and one for toil: 4.240. With dawn they hurry from the gates—no room 4.241. For loiterers there: and once again, when even 4.242. Now bids them quit their pasturing on the plain 4.243. Then homeward make they, then refresh their strength: 4.244. A hum arises: hark! they buzz and buzz 4.245. About the doors and threshold; till at length 4.246. Safe laid to rest they hush them for the night 4.247. And welcome slumber laps their weary limbs. 4.248. But from the homestead not too far they fare 4.249. When showers hang like to fall, nor, east winds nigh 4.250. Confide in heaven, but 'neath the city wall 4.251. Safe-circling fetch them water, or essay 4.252. Brief out-goings, and oft weigh-up tiny stones 4.253. As light craft ballast in the tossing tide 4.254. Wherewith they poise them through the cloudy vast. 4.255. This law of life, too, by the bees obeyed 4.256. Will move thy wonder, that nor sex with sex 4.257. Yoke they in marriage, nor yield their limbs to love 4.258. Nor know the pangs of labour, but alone 4.259. From leaves and honied herbs, the mothers, each 4.260. Gather their offspring in their mouths, alone 4.261. Supply new kings and pigmy commonwealth 4.262. And their old court and waxen realm repair. 4.263. oft, too, while wandering, against jagged stone 4.264. Their wings they fray, and 'neath the burden yield 4.265. Their liberal lives: so deep their love of flowers 4.266. So glorious deem they honey's proud acquist. 4.267. Therefore, though each a life of narrow span 4.268. Ne'er stretched to summers more than seven, befalls 4.269. Yet deathless doth the race endure, and still 4.270. Perennial stands the fortune of their line 4.271. From grandsire unto grandsire backward told. 4.272. Moreover, not placeName key= 4.273. of boundless placeName key= 4.274. Nor Median Hydaspes, to their king 4.275. Do such obeisance: lives the king unscathed 4.276. One will inspires the million: is he dead 4.277. Snapt is the bond of fealty; they themselve 4.278. Ravage their toil-wrought honey, and rend amain 4.279. Their own comb's waxen trellis. He is the lord 4.280. of all their labour; him with awful eye 4.286. Some say that unto bees a share is given 4.295. Alive they soar, and mount the heights of heaven. 4.296. If now their narrow home thou wouldst unseal 4.297. And broach the treasures of the honey-house 4.298. With draught of water first toment thy lips 4.299. And spread before thee fumes of trailing smoke. 4.300. Twice is the teeming produce gathered in 4.301. Twofold their time of harvest year by year 4.302. Once when Taygete the Pleiad uplift 4.303. Her comely forehead for the earth to see 4.304. With foot of scorn spurning the ocean-streams 4.305. Once when in gloom she flies the watery Fish 4.306. And dips from heaven into the wintry wave. 4.307. Unbounded then their wrath; if hurt, they breathe 4.308. Venom into their bite, cleave to the vein 4.309. And let the sting lie buried, and leave their live 4.310. Behind them in the wound. But if you dread 4.311. Too rigorous a winter, and would fain 4.312. Temper the coming time, and their bruised heart 4.313. And broken estate to pity move thy soul 4.314. Yet who would fear to fumigate with thyme 4.315. Or cut the empty wax away? for oft 4.318. And he that sits at others' board to feast 4.321. Or spider, victim of Minerva's spite 4.322. Athwart the doorway hangs her swaying net. 4.323. The more impoverished they, the keenlier all 4.324. To mend the fallen fortunes of their race 4.325. Will nerve them, fill the cells up, tier on tier 4.326. And weave their granaries from the rifled flowers. 4.327. Now, seeing that life doth even to bee-folk bring 4.328. Our human chances, if in dire disease 4.329. Their bodies' strength should languish—which anon 4.330. By no uncertain tokens may be told— 4.331. Forthwith the sick change hue; grim leanness mar 4.332. Their visage; then from out the cells they bear 4.392. When first the west winds bid the waters flow 4.393. Ere flush the meadows with new tints, and ere 4.394. The twittering swallow buildeth from the beams. 4.395. Meanwhile the juice within his softened bone 4.396. Heats and ferments, and things of wondrous birth 4.397. Footless at first, anon with feet and wings 4.398. Swarm there and buzz, a marvel to behold; 4.399. And more and more the fleeting breeze they take 4.400. Till, like a shower that pours from summer-clouds 4.438. Both zoned with gold and girt with dappled fell 4.439. Ephyre and Opis, and from Asian mead 4.440. Deiopea, and, bow at length laid by 4.443. of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth 4.445. Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods. 4.448. Smote on his mother's ears the mournful plaint 4.450. Amazement held them all; but Arethuse 4.451. Before the rest put forth her auburn head 4.452. Peering above the wave-top, and from far 4.453. Exclaimed, “Cyrene, sister, not for naught 4.454. Scared by a groan so deep, behold! 'tis he 4.455. Even Aristaeus, thy heart's fondest care 4.456. Here by the brink of the Peneian sire 4.464. Arched mountain-wise closed round him, and within 4.465. Its mighty bosom welcomed, and let speed 4.466. To the deep river-bed. And now, with eye 4.467. of wonder gazing on his mother's hall 4.468. And watery kingdom and cave-prisoned pool 4.469. And echoing groves, he went, and, stunned by that 4.470. Stupendous whirl of waters, separate saw 4.471. All streams beneath the mighty earth that glide 4.472. Phasis and Lycus, and that fountain-head 4.473. Whence first the deep Enipeus leaps to light 4.474. Whence father placeName key= 4.475. And Hypanis that roars amid his rocks 4.476. And Mysian Caicus, and, bull-browed 4.477. 'Twixt either gilded horn, placeName key= 4.481. Was gained, and now Cyrene from her son 4.482. Had heard his idle weeping, in due course 4.483. Clear water for his hands the sisters bring 4.484. With napkins of shorn pile, while others heap 4.485. The board with dainties, and set on afresh 4.486. The brimming goblets; with Panchaian fire 4.487. Upleap the altars; then the mother spake 4.488. “Take beakers of Maconian wine,” she said 4.489. “Pour we to Ocean.” Ocean, sire of all 4.490. She worships, and the sister-nymphs who guard 4.491. The hundred forests and the hundred streams; 4.492. Thrice Vesta's fire with nectar clear she dashed 4.493. Thrice to the roof-top shot the flame and shone: 4.495. “In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer 4.504. And loathly sea-calves 'neath the surge he feeds. 4.505. Him first, my son, behoves thee seize and bind 4.507. And grant a prosperous end. For save by force 4.508. No rede will he vouchsafe, nor shalt thou bend 4.509. His soul by praying; whom once made captive, ply 4.510. With rigorous force and fetters; against these 4.511. His wiles will break and spend themselves in vain. 4.512. I, when the sun has lit his noontide fires 4.513. When the blades thirst, and cattle love the shade 4.514. Myself will guide thee to the old man's haunt 4.515. Whither he hies him weary from the waves 4.516. That thou mayst safelier steal upon his sleep. 4.517. But when thou hast gripped him fast with hand and gyve 4.518. Then divers forms and bestial semblance 4.519. Shall mock thy grasp; for sudden he will change 4.520. To bristly boar, fell tigress, dragon scaled 4.521. And tawny-tufted lioness, or send forth 4.522. A crackling sound of fire, and so shake of 4.523. The fetters, or in showery drops anon 4.524. Dissolve and vanish. But the more he shift 4.525. His endless transformations, thou, my son 4.526. More straitlier clench the clinging bands, until 4.527. His body's shape return to that thou sawest 4.528. When with closed eyelids first he sank to sleep.” 4.529. So saying, an odour of ambrosial dew 4.532. Breathed effluence sweet, and a lithe vigour leapt 4.534. Scooped in the mountain-side, where wave on wave 4.535. By the wind's stress is driven, and breaks far up 4.536. Its inmost creeks—safe anchorage from of old 4.537. For tempest-taken mariners: therewithin 4.538. Behind a rock's huge barrier, Proteus hides. 4.539. Here in close covert out of the sun's eye 4.540. The youth she places, and herself the while 4.541. Swathed in a shadowy mist stands far aloof. 4.542. And now the ravening dog-star that burns up 4.543. The thirsty Indians blazed in heaven; his course 4.544. The fiery sun had half devoured: the blade 4.545. Were parched, and the void streams with droughty jaw 4.546. Baked to their mud-beds by the scorching ray 4.547. When Proteus seeking his accustomed cave 4.548. Strode from the billows: round him frolicking 4.549. The watery folk that people the waste sea 4.550. Sprinkled the bitter brine-dew far and wide. 4.551. Along the shore in scattered groups to feed 4.552. The sea-calves stretch them: while the seer himself 4.553. Like herdsman on the hills when evening bid 4.554. The steers from pasture to their stall repair 4.555. And the lambs' bleating whets the listening wolves 4.556. Sits midmost on the rock and tells his tale. 4.557. But Aristaeus, the foe within his clutch 4.558. Scarce suffering him compose his aged limbs 4.559. With a great cry leapt on him, and ere he rose 4.560. Forestalled him with the fetters; he nathless 4.561. All unforgetful of his ancient craft 4.562. Transforms himself to every wondrous thing 4.563. Fire and a fearful beast, and flowing stream. 4.564. But when no trickery found a path for flight 4.565. Baffled at length, to his own shape returned 4.566. With human lips he spake, “Who bade thee, then |
|
40. Gorgias Atheniensis, Fragments, None (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
|
41. Pliny The Elder, Natural History, 6.181 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
42. Seneca The Younger, Natural Questions, 6.8.3-6.8.4 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
43. Seneca The Younger, Phaedra, 484-503, 517-520, 522-525, 483 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
44. Tacitus, Annals, 14.52-14.56 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 14.52. The death of Burrus shook the position of Seneca: for not only had the cause of decency lost in power by the removal of one of its two champions, but Nero was inclining to worse counsellors. These brought a variety of charges to the assault on Seneca, "who was still augmenting that enormous wealth which had transcended the limits of a private fortune; who was perverting the affection of his countrymen to himself; who even in the charm of his pleasure-grounds and the splendour of his villas appeared bent on surpassing the sovereign. The honours of eloquence," so the count proceeded, "he arrogated to himself alone; and he was writing verse more frequently, now that Nero had developed an affection for the art. For of the emperor's amusements in general he was an openly captious critic, disparaging his powers when he drove his horses and deriding his notes when he sang! How long was nothing to be counted brilliant in Rome, unless it was believed the invention of Seneca? Beyond a doubt, Nero's boyhood was finished, and the full vigour of youth had arrived: let him discharge his pedagogue â he had a sufficiently distinguished staff of teachers in his own ancestors. 14.53. Seneca was aware of his maligners: they were revealed from the quarters where there was some little regard for honour, and the Caesar's avoidance of his intimacy was becoming marked. He therefore asked to have a time fixed for an interview; it was granted, and he began as follows:â "It is the fourteenth year, Caesar, since I was associated with your hopeful youth, the eighth that you have held the empire: in the time between, you have heaped upon me so much of honour and of wealth that all that is lacking to complete my happiness is discretion in its use. I shall appeal to great precedents, and I shall draw them not from my rank but from yours. Augustus, the grandfather of your grandfather, conceded to Marcus Agrippa the privacy of Mytilene, and to Gaius Maecenas, within the capital itself, something tantamount to retirement abroad. One had been the partner of his wars, the other had been harassed by more numerous labours at Rome, and each had received his reward â a magnificent reward, it is true, but proportioned to immense deserts. For myself, what incentive to your generosity have I been able to apply except some bookish acquirements, cultivated, I might say, in the shadows of the cloister? Acquirements to which fame has come because I am thought to have lent a helping hand in your own first youthful efforts â a wage that overpays the service! But you have invested me with measureless influence, with countless riches; so that often I put the question to myself:â 'Is it I, born in the station of a simple knight and a provincial, who am numbered with the magnates of the realm? Among these nobles, wearing their long-descended glories, has my novel name swum into ken? Where is that spirit which found contentment in mediocrity? Building these terraced gardens? â Pacing these suburban mansions? â Luxuriating in these broad acres, these world-wide investments?' â A single defence suggests itself â that I had not the right to obstruct your bounty. 14.54. "But we have both filled up the measure: you, of what a prince may give to his friend; and I, of what a friend may take from his prince. All beyond breeds envy! True, envy, like everything mortal, lies far beneath your greatness; but by me the burden is felt â to me a relief is necessary. As I should pray for support in warfare, or when wearied by the road, so in this journey of life, an old man and unequal to the lightest of cares, I ask for succour: for I can bear my riches no further. Order my estates to be administered by your procurators, to be embodied in your fortune. Not that by my own action I shall reduce myself to poverty: rather, I shall resign the glitter of wealth which dazzles me, and recall to the service of the mind those hours which are now set apart to the care of my gardens or my villas. You have vigour to spare; you have watched for years the methods by which supreme power is wielded: we, your older friends, may demand our rest. This, too, shall redound to your glory â that you raised to the highest places men who could also accept the lowly. 14.55. Nero's reply, in effect, was this:â "If I am able to meet your studied eloquence with an immediate answer, that is the first part of my debt to you, who have taught me how to express my thought not merely after premeditation but on the spur of the moment. Augustus, the grandfather of my grandfather, allowed Agrippa and Maecenas to rest after their labours, but had himself reached an age, the authority of which could justify whatever boon, and of whatever character, he had bestowed upon them. And even so he stripped neither of the rewards conferred by himself. It was in battle and jeopardy they had earned them, for such were the scenes in which the youth of Augustus moved; and, had my own days been spent in arms, your weapons and your hand would not have failed me; but you did what the actual case demanded, and fostered first my boyhood, then my youth, with reason, advice, and precept. And your gifts to me will be imperishable, so long as life may last; but mine to you â gardens, capital, and villas â are vulnerable to accident. They may appear many; but numbers of men, not comparable to you in character have held more. Shame forbids me to mention the freedmen who flaunt a wealth greater than yours! And hence I even blush that you, who have the first place in my love, do not as yet excel all in fortune. Or is it, by chance, the case that you deem either Seneca lower than Vitellius, who held his three consulates, or Nero lower than Claudius, and that the wealth which years of parsimony won for Volusius is incapable of being attained by my own generosity to you? 14.56. "On the contrary, not only is yours a vigorous age, adequate to affairs and to their rewards, but I myself am but entering the first stages of my sovereignty. Why not recall the uncertain steps of my youth, if here and there they slip, and even more zealously guide and support the manhood which owes its pride to you. Not your moderation, if you give back your riches; not your retirement, if you abandon your prince; by my avarice, and the terrors of my cruelty, will be upon all men's lips. And, however much your abnegation may be praised, it will still be unworthy of a sage to derive credit from an act which sullies the fair fame of a friend." He followed his words with an embrace and kisses â nature had fashioned him and use had trained him to veil his hatred under insidious caresses. Seneca â such is the end of all dialogues with an autocrat â expressed his gratitude: but he changed the established routine of his former power, banished the crowds from his antechambers, shunned his attendants, and appeared in the city with a rareness ascribed to his detention at home by adverse health or philosophic studies. |
|
45. Various, Anthologia Latina, 14
|
