1. Hesiod, Works And Days, 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, 20, 200-209, 21, 210-219, 22, 220-229, 23, 230-237, 24-29, 299, 30, 300-301, 308-309, 31, 310-313, 32-46, 465-478, 50, 649-650, 109 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 109. Filling both land and sea, while every day |
|
2. Hesiod, Theogony, 37-43, 53, 36 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 36. The past and future, and to lionize |
|
3. Homer, Iliad, 21.257-21.262 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 21.257. /the bronze rang terribly, while he swerved from beneath the flood and fled ever onward, and the River followed after, flowing with a mighty roar. As when a man that guideth its flow leadeth from a dusky spring a stream of water amid his plants and garden-lots a mattock in his hands and cleareth away the dams from the channel— 21.258. /the bronze rang terribly, while he swerved from beneath the flood and fled ever onward, and the River followed after, flowing with a mighty roar. As when a man that guideth its flow leadeth from a dusky spring a stream of water amid his plants and garden-lots a mattock in his hands and cleareth away the dams from the channel— 21.259. /the bronze rang terribly, while he swerved from beneath the flood and fled ever onward, and the River followed after, flowing with a mighty roar. As when a man that guideth its flow leadeth from a dusky spring a stream of water amid his plants and garden-lots a mattock in his hands and cleareth away the dams from the channel— 21.260. /and as it floweth all the pebbles beneath are swept along therewith, and it glideth swiftly onward with murmuring sound down a sloping place and outstrippeth even him that guideth it;—even thus did the flood of the River 21.261. /and as it floweth all the pebbles beneath are swept along therewith, and it glideth swiftly onward with murmuring sound down a sloping place and outstrippeth even him that guideth it;—even thus did the flood of the River 21.262. /and as it floweth all the pebbles beneath are swept along therewith, and it glideth swiftly onward with murmuring sound down a sloping place and outstrippeth even him that guideth it;—even thus did the flood of the River |
|
4. Aeschylus, Libation-Bearers, 1024 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
| 1024. φρένες δύσαρκτοι· πρὸς δὲ καρδίᾳ φόβος | |
|
5. Pindar, Pythian Odes, 10.65 (6th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
|
6. Euripides, Medea, 5, 9-10 (5th cent. BCE - 5th cent. BCE)
| 10. to slay their father and come to live here in the land of Corinth with her husband and children, where her exile found favour with the citizens to whose land she had come, and in all things of her own accord was she at one with Jason, the greatest safeguard thi |
|
7. Plato, Phaedrus, None (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 246a. that that which moves itself is nothing else than the soul,—then the soul would necessarily be ungenerated and immortal. Concerning the immortality of the soul this is enough; but about its form we must speak in the following manner. To tell what it really is would be a matter for utterly superhuman and long discourse, but it is within human power to describe it briefly in a figure; let us therefore speak in that way. We will liken the soul to the composite nature of a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. Now the horses and charioteers of the gods are all good and |
|
8. Plato, Statesman, None (5th cent. BCE - 4th cent. BCE)
| 272b. That, Socrates, was the life of men in the reign of Cronus; but the life of the present age, which is said to be the age of Zeus, you know by your own experience. Would you be able and willing to decide which of them is the more blessed? Y. Soc. Certainly not. Str. Shall I, then, make some sort of a judgement for you? Y. Soc. Do so, by all means. Str. Well, then, if the foster children of Cronus, having all this leisure and the ability to converse not only with human beings but also with beasts |
|
9. Aratus Solensis, Phaenomena, 131-132, 130 (4th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
| 130. χαλκείη γενεή, προτέρων ὀλοώτεροι ἄνδρες | |
|
10. Callimachus, Aetia, 1.25-1.28 (4th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
|
11. Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica, 1.19-1.20, 4.445 (3rd cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
| 1.19. Ἄργον Ἀθηναίης καμέειν ὑποθημοσύνῃσιν. 1.20. νῦν δʼ ἂν ἐγὼ γενεήν τε καὶ οὔνομα μυθησαίμην 4.445. σχέτλιʼ Ἔρως, μέγα πῆμα, μέγα στύγος ἀνθρώποισιν | |
|
12. Cicero, On The Nature of The Gods, 2.87, 2.161 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 2.87. Let someone therefore prove that it could have been better. But no one will ever prove this, and anyone who essays to improve some detail will either make it worse or will be demanding an improvement impossible in the nature of things. "But if the structure of the world in all its parts is such that it could not have been better whether in point of utility or beauty, let us consider js is the result of chance, or whether on the contrary the parts of the world are in such a condition that they could not possibly have cohered together if they were not controlled by intelligence and by divine providence. If then that produces of nature are better than those of art, and if art produces nothing without reason, nature too cannot be deemed to be without reason. When you see a statue or a painting, you recognize the exercise of art; when you observe from a distance the course of a ship, you do not hesitate to assume that its motion is guided by reason and by art; when you look at a sun‑dial or a water-clock, you infer that it tells the time by art and not by chance; how then can it be consistent to suppose that the world, which includes both the works of art in question, the craftsmen who made them, and everything else besides, can be devoid of purpose and of reason? 2.161. The great beasts of the forest again we take by hunting, both for food and in order to exercise ourselves in the mimic warfare of the chase, and also, as in the case of elephants, to train and discipline them for our employment, and to procure from their busy a variety of medicines for diseases and wounds, as also we do from certain roots and herbs whose values we have learnt by long-continued use and trial. Let the mind's eye survey the whole earth and all the seas, and you will behold now fruitful plains of measureless extent and mountains thickly clad with forests and pastures filled with flocks, now vessels sailing with marvellous swiftness across the sea. |
|
13. Cicero, On Duties, 1.11-1.13, 2.16-2.17 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.11. Principio generi animantium omni est a natura tributum, ut se, vitam corpusque tueatur, declinet ea, quae nocitura videantur, omniaque, quae sint ad vivendum necessaria, anquirat et paret, ut pastum, ut latibula, ut alia generis eiusdem. Commune item animantium omnium est coniunctionis adpetitus procreandi causa et cura quaedam eorum, quae procreata sint; sed inter hominem et beluam hoc maxime interest, quod haec tantum, quantum sensu movetur, ad id solum, quod adest quodque praesens est, se accommodat paulum admodum sentiens praeteritum aut futurum; homo autem, quod rationis est particeps, per quam consequentia cernit, causas rerum videt earumque praegressus et quasi antecessiones non ignorat, similitudines comparat rebusque praesentibus adiungit atque annectit futuras, facile totius vitae cursum videt ad eamque degendam praeparat res necessarias. 1.12. Eademque natura vi rationis hominem conciliat homini et ad orationis et ad vitae societatem ingeneratque in primis praecipuum quendam amorem in eos, qui procreati sunt, impellitque, ut hominum coetus et celebrationes et esse et a se obiri velit ob easque causas studeat parare ea, quae suppeditent ad cultum et ad victum, nec sibi soli, sed coniugi, liberis ceterisque, quos caros habeat tuerique debeat; quae cura exsuscitat etiam animos et maiores ad rem gerendam facit. 1.13. In primisque hominis est propria veri inquisitio atque investigatio. Itaque cum sumus necessariis negotiis curisque vacui, tum avemus aliquid videre, audire, addiscere cognitionemque rerum aut occultarum aut admirabilium ad beate vivendum necessariam ducimus. Ex quo intellegitur, quod verum, simplex sincerumque sit, id esse naturae hominis aptissimum. Huic veri videndi cupiditati adiuncta est appetitio quaedam principatus, ut nemini parere animus bene informatus a natura velit nisi praecipienti aut docenti aut utilitatis causa iuste et legitime imperanti; ex quo magnitudo animi exsistit humanarumque rerum contemptio. 2.16. Longiores hoc loco sumus, quam necesse est. Quis est enim, cui non perspicua sint illa, quae pluribus verbis a Panaetio commemorantur, neminem neque ducem bello nec principem domi magnas res et salutares sine hominum studiis gerere potuisse? Commemoratur ab eo Themistocles, Pericles, Cyrus, Agesilaus, Alexander, quos negat sine adiumentis hominum tantas res efficere potuisse. Utitur in re non dubia testibus non necessariis. Atque ut magnas utilitates adipiscimur conspiratione hominum atque consensu, sic nulla tam detestabilis pestis est, quae non homini ab homine nascatur. Est Dicaearchi liber de interitu hominum, Peripatetici magni et copiosi, qui collectis ceteris causis eluvionis, pestilentiae, vastitatis, beluarum etiam repentinae multitudinis, quarum impetu docet quaedam hominum genera esse consumpta, deinde comparat, quanto plures deleti sint homines hominum impetu, id est bellis aut seditionibus, quam omni reliqua calamitate. 2.17. Cum igitur hie locus nihil habeat dubitationis, quin homines plurimum hominibus et prosint et obsint, proprium hoc statuo esse virtutis, conciliare animos hominum et ad usus suos adiungere. Itaque, quae in rebus iimis quaeque in usu et tractatione beluarum fiunt utiliter ad hominum vitam, artibus ea tribuuntur operosis, hominum autem studia ad amplificationem nostrarum rerum prompta ac parata virorum praestantium sapientia et virtute excitantur. | 2.16. I have dwelt longer on this point than was necessary. For who is there to whom those facts which Panaetius narrates at great length are not self-evident â namely, that no one, either as a general in war or as a statesman at home, could have accomplished great things for the benefit of the state, without the hearty coâoperation of other men? He cites the deeds of Themistocles, Pericles, Cyrus, Agesilaus, Alexander, who, he says, could not have achieved so great success without the support of other men. He calls in witnesses, whom he does not need, to prove a fact that no one questions. And yet, as, on the one hand, we secure great advantages through the sympathetic cooperation of our fellow-men; so, on the other, there is no curse so terrible but it is brought down by man upon man. There is a book by Dicaearchus on "The Destruction of Human Life." He was a famous and eloquent Peripatetic, and he gathered together all the other causes of destruction â floods, epidemics, famines, and sudden incursions of wild animals in myriads, by whose assaults, he informs us, whole tribes of men have been wiped out. And then he proceeds to show by way of comparison how many more men have been destroyed by the assaults of men â that is, by wars or revolutions â than by any and all other sorts of calamity. 2.17. Since, therefore, there can be no doubt on this point, that man is the source of both the greatest help and the greatest harm to man, I set it down as the peculiar function of virtue to win the hearts of men and to attach them to one's own service. And so those benefits that human life derives from iimate objects and from the employment and use of animals are ascribed to the industrial arts; the cooperation of men, on the other hand, prompt and ready for the advancement of our interests, is secured through wisdom and virtue [in men of superior ability]. |
|
14. Cicero, Republic, 3.1 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 3.1. Non. 301M Est igitur quiddam turbulentum in hominibus singulis, quod vel exultat voluptate vel molestia frangitur. | |
|
15. Varro, On Agriculture, 1.18.7-1.18.8, 2.10.1 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
16. Catullus, Poems, 64.1-64.15, 64.384-64.408 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
17. Horace, Sermones, 1.1.115 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
18. Lucretius Carus, On The Nature of Things, 1.10-1.11, 1.67, 1.71, 1.111, 1.159-1.214, 1.250-1.261, 1.313-1.314, 1.932, 2.2, 2.7-2.8, 2.24-2.29, 2.48-2.49, 2.56-2.58, 2.621, 2.629-2.630, 2.700-2.707, 2.1150-2.1174, 3.1-3.2, 3.9, 3.18, 3.25-3.27, 3.41, 3.59-3.78, 3.88-3.90, 3.461, 3.866, 3.978-3.1023, 4.7, 4.1099, 5.9-5.12, 5.14-5.21, 5.45-5.46, 5.114, 5.142, 5.206-5.217, 5.233-5.234, 5.917, 5.923-5.926, 5.934, 5.939-5.942, 5.965, 5.1006, 5.1091-5.1104, 5.1165-5.1167, 5.1250-5.1251, 5.1266-5.1268, 5.1281-5.1349, 5.1361-5.1378, 5.1416, 5.1430, 5.1436-5.1442, 5.1452-5.1457, 6.36-6.38, 6.47, 6.396, 6.1138-6.1143 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
19. Ovid, Fasti, 1.319-1.332, 4.783-4.806, 5.721 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
| 1.319. The day may take its name from the girded priest 1.320. At whose blow the god’s sacrifice is felled: 1.321. Always, before he stains the naked blade with hot blood 1.322. He asks if he should (agatne), and won’t unless commanded. 1.323. Some believe that the day is called Agonal because 1.324. The sheep do not come to the altar but are driven (agantur). 1.325. Others think the ancients called this festival Agnalia 1.326. ‘of the lambs’, dropping a letter from its usual place. 1.327. Or because the victim fears the knife mirrored in the water 1.328. The day might be so called from the creature’s agony? 1.329. It may also be that the day has a Greek name 1.330. From the games (agones) that were held in former times. 1.331. And in ancient speech agonia meant a sheep 1.332. And this last reason in my judgement is the truth. 4.783. I’ve set forth the custom: I must still tell of its origin: 4.784. But many explanations cause me doubt, and hold me back. 4.785. Greedy fire devours all things, and melts away the dro 4.786. From metals: the same method cleans shepherd and sheep? 4.787. Or is it because all things are formed 4.788. of two opposing powers, fire and water 4.789. And our ancestors joined these elements, and thought fit 4.790. To touch their bodies with fire and sprinkled water? 4.791. Or did they think the two so powerful, because they contain 4.792. The source of life: denied to the exile, it makes the new bride? 4.793. I can scarce believe it, but some consider it refer 4.794. To Phaethon, and to Deucalion’s flood. 4.795. Some say, too, that once when shepherds struck 4.796. Stones together, a spark suddenly leapt out: 4.797. The first died, but the second set fire to straw: 4.798. Is that the basis for the fires of the Parilia? 4.799. Or is the custom due rather to Aeneas’ piety 4.800. To whom the fire gave safe passage, in defeat? 4.801. Or is this nearer the truth, that when Rome was founded 4.802. They were commanded to move the Lares to their new homes 4.803. And changing homes the farmers set fire to the houses 4.804. And to the cottages, they were about to abandon 4.805. They and their cattle leaping through the flames 4.806. As happens even now on Rome’s birthday? |
|
20. Ovid, Metamorphoses, 1.89-1.150, 15.111-15.126 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
|
21. Propertius, Elegies, 3.1.9-3.1.12 (1st cent. BCE
|
22. Strabo, Geography, 15.1.64 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 15.1.64. He conversed with Calanus, one of these sophists, who accompanied the king to Persia, and died after the custom of his country, being placed on a pile of [burning] wood. When Onesicritus came, he was lying upon stones. Onesicritus approached, accosted him, and told him that he had been sent by the king, who had heard the fame of his wisdom, and that he was to give an account of his interview, if there were no objection, he was ready to listen to his discourse. When Calanus saw his mantle, head-covering, and shoes, he laughed, and said, 'Formerly, there was abundance everywhere of corn and barley, as there is now of dust; fountains then flowed with water, milk, honey, wine, and oil, but mankind by repletion and luxury became proud and insolent. Jupiter, indigt at this state of things, destroyed all, and appointed for man a life of toil. On the reappearance of temperance and other virtues, there was again an abundance of good things. But at present the condition of mankind approaches satiety and insolence, and there is danger lest the things which now exist should disappear.'When he had finished, he proposed to Onesicritus, if he wished to hear his discourse, to strip off his clothes, to lie down naked by him on the same stones, and in that manner to listen to him; while he was hesitating what to do, Mandanis, who was the oldest and wisest of the sophists, reproached Calanus for his insolence, although he censured such insolence himself. Mandanis called Onesicritus to him, and said, I commend the king, because, although he governs so large an empire, he is yet desirous of acquiring wisdom, for he is the only philosopher in arms that I ever saw; it would be of the greatest advantage, if those were philosophers who have the power of persuading the willing and of compelling the unwilling to learn temperance; but I am entitled to indulgence, if, when conversing by means of three interpreters, who, except the language, know no more than the vulgar, I am not able to demonstrate the utility of philosophy. To attempt it is to expect water to flow pure through mud. |
|
23. Tibullus, Elegies, 1.3.35-1.3.50, 1.10.1-1.10.12 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
|
24. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.33, 1.205, 4.386, 4.412, 6.277, 7.46, 7.181-7.186, 7.601-7.623, 8.55, 8.319-8.327, 9.62, 10.727, 12.250, 12.261 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.33. the Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fear 1.205. a life to duty given, swift silence falls; 4.386. me bear on winged winds his high decree. 4.412. but carefully dissembling what emprise 6.277. Rustled in each light breeze. Aeneas grasped 7.46. Hail, Erato! while olden kings and thrones 7.181. news of the day at hand when they should build 7.182. their destined walls. So, with rejoicing heart 7.183. at such vast omen, they set forth a feast 7.184. with zealous emulation, ranging well 7.186. Soon as the morrow with the lamp of dawn 7.601. from where my sister-furies dwell! My hands 7.602. bring bloody death and war.” She spoke, and hurled 7.603. her firebrand at the hero, thrusting deep 7.604. beneath his heart her darkly smouldering flame. 7.605. Then horror broke his sleep, and fearful sweat 7.606. dripped from his every limb. He shrieked aloud 7.607. for arms; and seized the ready arms that lay 7.608. around his couch and hall. Then o'er his soul 7.609. the lust of battle and wild curse of war 7.610. broke forth in angry power, as when the flames 7.611. of faggots round the bubbling cauldron sing 7.612. and up the waters leap; the close-kept flood 7.613. brims over, streaming, foaming, breaking bound 7.614. and flings thick clouds in air. He, summoning 7.615. his chieftains, bade them on Latinus move 7.616. break peace, take arms, and, over Italy 7.617. their shields extending, to thrust forth her foe: 7.618. himself for Teucrian with Latin joined 7.619. was more than match. He called upon the gods 7.620. in witness of his vows: while, nothing loth 7.621. Rutulia's warriors rushed into array; 7.622. ome by his youth and noble beauty moved 8.55. has stilled its swollen wave. A sign I tell: 8.319. filled all the arching sky, the river's banks 8.320. asunder leaped, and Tiber in alarm 8.321. reversed his flowing wave. So Cacus' lair 8.322. lay shelterless, and naked to the day 8.323. the gloomy caverns of his vast abode 8.324. tood open, deeply yawning, just as if 8.325. the riven earth should crack, and open wide 8.326. th' infernal world and fearful kingdoms pale 8.327. which gods abhor; and to the realms on high 9.62. dappled with white he rode; a crimson plume 10.727. in shining vesture he, and glittering arms. 12.250. Father omnipotent, I call; on thee 12.261. unto Evander's city! From these plains |
|
25. Vergil, Eclogues, 4.6, 10.75-10.76 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 4.6. has come and gone, and the majestic roll 10.75. Cydonian arrows from a Parthian bow.— 10.76. as if my madness could find healing thus |
|
26. Vergil, Georgics, 1.1-1.23, 1.39-1.40, 1.47, 1.50-1.53, 1.60-1.63, 1.74, 1.79, 1.84-1.93, 1.100, 1.104-1.106, 1.112-1.113, 1.118-1.140, 1.142-1.168, 1.176-1.186, 1.197-1.207, 1.218, 1.229, 1.233-1.249, 1.257, 1.270, 1.273-1.283, 1.291-1.294, 1.299, 1.316-1.334, 1.337-1.351, 1.353, 1.415-1.423, 1.439, 1.446-1.447, 1.486, 1.493-1.497, 1.505, 1.508, 1.511-1.514, 2.39, 2.47-2.72, 2.114, 2.175, 2.211, 2.397, 2.405-2.406, 2.412, 2.417, 2.420, 2.458-2.542, 3.3-3.8, 3.115-3.117, 3.258-3.263, 3.266-3.268, 3.339-3.348, 3.478-3.566, 4.6, 4.106, 4.116-4.117, 4.125-4.152, 4.170-4.175, 4.559-4.566 (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= 1.39. Sole dread of seamen, till far placeName key= 1.40. Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son 1.47. For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king 1.50. Elysium's fields, and Proserpine not heed 1.51. Her mother's voice entreating to return— 1.52. Vouchsafe a prosperous voyage, and smile on thi 1.53. My bold endeavour, and pitying, even as I 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 1.74. Iron from the naked Chalybs, castor rank 1.79. When old Deucalion on the unpeopled earth 1.84. By the ripe suns of summer; but if the earth 1.85. Less fruitful just ere Arcturus rise 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 1.104. oft, too, 'twill boot to fire the naked fields 1.105. And the light stubble burn with crackling flames; 1.106. Whether that earth therefrom some hidden strength 1.112. Or that it hardens more and helps to bind 1.113. The gaping veins, lest penetrating showers 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 1.142. 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? 1.147. But no whit the more 1.148. For all expedients tried and travail borne 1.149. By man and beast in turning oft the soil 1.150. Do greedy goose and Strymon-haunting crane 1.151. And succory's bitter fibres cease to harm 1.152. Or shade not injure. The great Sire himself 1.153. No easy road to husbandry assigned 1.154. And first was he by human skill to rouse 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 1.161. They gathered, and the earth of her own will 1.162. All things more freely, no man bidding, bore. 1.163. He to black serpents gave their venom-bane 1.164. And bade the wolf go prowl, and ocean toss; 1.165. Shooed from the leaves their honey, put fire away 1.166. And curbed the random rivers running wine 1.167. That use by gradual dint of thought on thought 1.168. Might forge the various arts, with furrow's help 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 1.197. Prune with thy hook the dark field's matted shade 1.198. Pray down the showers, all vainly thou shalt eye 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 1.204. Without which, neither can be sown nor reared 1.205. The fruits of harvest; first the bent plough's share 1.206. And heavy timber, and slow-lumbering wain 1.207. of the Eleusinian mother, threshing-sleigh 1.218. And share-beam with its double back they fix. 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 1.270. Aye, more than time to bend above the plough 1.273. Thee, too, Lucerne, the crumbling furrows then 1.274. Receive, and millet's annual care returns 1.275. What time the white bull with his gilded horn 1.276. Opens the year, before whose threatening front 1.277. Routed the dog-star sinks. But if it be 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 1.291. Pursue thy sowing till half the frosts be done. 1.292. Therefore it is the golden sun, his course 1.293. Into fixed parts dividing, rules his way 1.294. Through the twelve constellations of the world. 1.299. And black with scowling storm-clouds, and betwixt 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. 1.337. Before the fire; now bruise it with the stone. 1.338. Nay even on holy days some tasks to ply 1.339. Is right and lawful: this no ban forbids 1.340. To turn the runnel's course, fence corn-fields in 1.341. Make springes for the birds, burn up the briars 1.342. And plunge in wholesome stream the bleating flock. 1.343. oft too with oil or apples plenty-cheap 1.344. The creeping ass's ribs his driver packs 1.345. And home from town returning brings instead 1.346. A dented mill-stone or black lump of pitch. 1.347. The moon herself in various rank assign 1.348. The days for labour lucky: fly the fifth; 1.349. Then sprang pale Orcus and the Eumenides; 1.350. Earth then in awful labour brought to light 1.351. Coeus, Iapetus, and Typhoeus fell 1.353. The gates of heaven; thrice, sooth to say, they strove 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 1.439. 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 1.486. Round Asian meads within thy fresher-pools 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. 1.505. Do halcyons dear to Thetis ope their wings 1.508. Seek more the vales, and rest upon the plain 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 2.39. Shrink to restore the topmost shoot to earth 2.47. Come then, and learn what tilth to each belong 2.48. According to their kinds, ye husbandmen 2.49. And tame with culture the wild fruits, lest earth 2.50. Lie idle. O blithe to make all Ismaru 2.51. One forest of the wine-god, and to clothe 2.52. With olives huge Tabernus! And be thou 2.53. At hand, and with me ply the voyage of toil 2.54. I am bound on, O my glory, O thou that art 2.55. Justly the chiefest portion of my fame 2.56. Maecenas, and on this wide ocean launched 2.57. Spread sail like wings to waft thee. Not that I 2.58. With my poor verse would comprehend the whole 2.59. Nay, though a hundred tongues, a hundred mouth 2.60. Were mine, a voice of iron; be thou at hand 2.61. Skirt but the nearer coast-line; see the shore 2.62. Is in our grasp; not now with feigned song 2.63. Through winding bouts and tedious preluding 2.64. Shall I detain thee. 2.65. Those that lift their head 2.66. Into the realms of light spontaneously 2.67. Fruitless indeed, but blithe and strenuous spring 2.68. Since Nature lurks within the soil. And yet 2.69. Even these, should one engraft them, or transplant 2.70. To well-drilled trenches, will anon put of 2.71. Their woodland temper, and, by frequent tilth 2.72. To whatso craft thou summon them, make speed 2.114. Fat olives, orchades, and radii 2.175. But no, not Mede-land with its wealth of woods 2.211. Avernian inlets pours the Tuscan tide? 2.397. Can they recover, and from the earth beneath 2.405. Comes the white bird long-bodied snakes abhor 2.406. Or on the eve of autumn's earliest frost 2.412. With quickening showers to his glad wife's embrace 2.417. Then the boon earth yields increase, and the field 2.420. Face the new suns, and safely trust them now; 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 2.461. With keen-edged sickle, but let the leaves alone 2.462. Be culled with clip of fingers here and there. 2.463. But when they clasp the elms with sturdy trunk 2.464. Erect, then strip the leaves off, prune the boughs; 2.465. Sooner they shrink from steel, but then put forth 2.466. The arm of power, and stem the branchy tide. 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 2.484. The Ausonian swains, a race from placeName key= 2.485. Make merry with rough rhymes and boisterous mirth 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 2.491. Where'er the god hath turned his comely head. 2.492. Therefore to Bacchus duly will we sing 2.493. Meet honour with ancestral hymns, and cate 2.494. And dishes bear him; and the doomed goat 2.495. Led by the horn shall at the altar stand 2.496. Whose entrails rich on hazel-spits we'll roast. 2.497. This further task again, to dress the vine 2.498. Hath needs beyond exhausting; the whole soil 2.499. Thrice, four times, yearly must be cleft, the sod 2.500. With hoes reversed be crushed continually 2.501. The whole plantation lightened of its leaves. 2.502. Round on the labourer spins the wheel of toil 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. 2.513. Twice doth the thickening shade beset the vine 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 2.517. of butcher's broom among the woods are cut 2.518. And reeds upon the river-banks, and still 2.519. The undressed willow claims thy fostering care. 2.520. So now the vines are fettered, now the tree 2.521. Let go the sickle, and the last dresser now 2.522. Sings of his finished rows; but still the ground 2.523. Must vexed be, the dust be stirred, and heaven 2.524. Still set thee trembling for the ripened grapes. 2.525. Not so with olives; small husbandry need they 2.526. Nor look for sickle bowed or biting rake 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 2.541. To plant, nor lavish of their pains? Why trace 2.542. Things mightier? Willows even and lowly broom 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 3.115. 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 3.258. 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 3.339. Not toward thy rising, Eurus, or the sun's 3.340. But westward and north-west, or whence up-spring 3.341. Black Auster, that glooms heaven with rainy cold. 3.342. Hence from their groin slow drips a poisonous juice 3.343. By shepherds truly named hippomanes 3.344. Hippomanes, fell stepdames oft have culled 3.345. And mixed with herbs and spells of baneful bode. 3.346. Fast flies meanwhile the irreparable hour 3.347. As point to point our charmed round we trace. 3.348. Enough of herds. This second task remains 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 4.6. Its traits, its bent, its battles and its clans 4.106. Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those 4.116. of peerless front and lit with flashing scales; 4.117. That other, from neglect and squalor foul 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 4.170. 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 4.559. 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 |
|
27. Columella, De Re Rustica, 3.21.4 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
| 3.21.4. Sed haec quamvis plurimum delectent, note target= | 3.21.4. But though all these give the greatest delight, still profit prevails over pleasure. For the head of the household comes down the more willingly to feast his eyes upon his wealth in proportion to its splendour; and, as the poet says of the sacred deity, Wheresoever the god has turned his goodly head, truly, whatever the person and eyes of the master are frequent visitors, there the fruit abounds in richer measure. But, dismissing this statement, which is applicable also to vines not grouped according to their kinds, I shall proceed with those matters which are most deserving of notice. |
|
28. Epictetus, Discourses, 1.6.32-1.6.36, 1.24.1-1.24.2 (1st cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
|
29. Seneca The Younger, Letters, 90.7-90.14, 90.16, 90.18-90.19, 90.22, 90.24-90.26 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
30. Seneca The Younger, Medea, 339, 338 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
31. Seneca The Younger, Phaedra, 484-503, 517-520, 522-525, 483 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
32. Valerius Flaccus Gaius, Argonautica, 1.91-1.95, 1.246-1.247, 1.498-1.502, 1.561-1.567, 1.597-1.607, 1.642-1.650 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
|
33. Pausanias, Description of Greece, 8.1.6 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 8.1.6. But he introduced as food the nuts of trees, not those of all trees but only the acorns of the edible oak. Some people have followed this diet so closely since the time of Pelasgus that even the Pythian priestess, when she forbade the Lacedaemonians to touch the land of the Arcadians, uttered the following verses:— In Arcadia are many men who eat acorns, Who will prevent you; though I do not grudge it you. It is said that it was in the reign of Pelasgus that the land was called Pelasgia. |
|
34. Porphyry, On Abstinence, 4.2 (3rd cent. CE - 4th cent. CE)
| 4.2. 2.But we shall begin from the abstinence of certain nations, in the narration of which, what is asserted of the Greeks will first claim our attention, as being the most allied to us, and the most appropriate of all the witnesses that can be adduced. Among those, therefore, that have concisely, and at the same time accurately collected an account of the affairs of the Greeks, is the Peripatetic Dicaearchus 1, who, in narrating the pristine life of the Greeks, says, the ancients, being generated with an alliance to the Gods, were naturally most excellent, and led the best life; so that, when compared to us of the present day, who consist of an adulterated and most vile matter, they were thought to be a golden race; and they slew no animal whatever. The truth of this, he also says, is testified by the poets, who denominate these ancients the golden race, and assert that every good was present with them. The fertile earth for them spontaneous bore of fruits a copious and unenvy'd store; In blissful quiet then, unknown to strife, The worthy with the worthy passed their life 2. |111 Which assertions, indeed Dicaearchus explaining, says, that a life of this kind was under Saturn; if it is proper to consider it as a thing that once existed, and that it is a life which has not been celebrated in vain, and if, laying aside what is extremely fabulous, we may refer it to a physical narration. All things, therefore, are very properly said to have been then spontaneously produced; for men did not procure any thing by labour, because they were unacquainted with the agricultural art, and, in short, had no knowledge of any other art. This very thing, likewise, was the cause of their leading a life of leisure, free from labours and care; and if it is proper to assent to the decision of the most skilful and elegant of physicians, it was also the cause of their being liberated from disease. For there is not any precept of physicians which more contributes to health, than that which exhorts us not to make an abundance of excrement, from which those pristine Greeks always preserved their bodies pure. For they neither assumed such food as was stronger than the nature of the body could bear, but such as could be vanquished by the corporeal nature, nor more than was moderate, on account of the facility of procuring it, but for the most part less than was sufficient, on account of its paucity. Moreover, there were neither any wars among them, nor seditions with each other. For no reward of contention worth mentioning was proposed as an incentive, for the sake of which some one might be induced to engage in such dissensions. So that the principal thing in that life was leisure and rest from necessary occupations, together with health, peace, and friendship. But to those in after times, who, through aspiring after things which greatly exceeded mediocrity, fell into many evils, this pristine life became, as it was reasonable to suppose it would, desirable. The slender and extemporaneous food, however, of these first men, is manifested by the saying which was afterwards proverbially used, enough of the oak; this adage being probably introduced by him who first changed the ancient mode of living. A pastoral life succeeded to this, in which men procured for themselves superfluous possessions, and meddled with animals. For, perceiving that some of them were innoxious, but others malefic and savage, they tamed the former, but attacked the latter. At the same time, together with this life, war was introduced. And these things, says Dicaearchus, are not asserted by us, but by those who have historically discussed a multitude of particulars. For, as possessions were now of such a magnitude as to merit attention, some ambitiously endeavoured to obtain them, by collecting them [for their own use], and calling on others to do the same, but others directed their attention to the preservation of them when collected. Time, therefore, thus gradually proceeding, and men always directing their attention to what |112 appeared to be useful, they at length became conversant with the third, and agricultural form of life. And this is what is said by Dicaearchus, in his narration of the manners of the ancient Greeks, and the blessed life which they then led, to which abstinence from animal food contributed, no less than other things. Hence, at that period there was no war, because injustice was exterminated. But afterwards, together with injustice towards animals, war was introduced among men, and the endeavour to surpass each other in amplitude of possessions. On which account also, the audacity of those is wonderful, who say that abstinence from animals is the mother of injustice, since both history and experience testify, that together with the slaughter of animals, war and injustice were introduced. SPAN |
|
35. Servius, In Vergilii Georgicon Libros, 1.7 (4th cent. CE - 5th cent. CE)
|
36. Bacchylides, Odes, 5.177
|
37. Epicurus, Letters, 116, 115
|
38. Epicurus, Letters, 116, 115
|
39. Manilius, Astronomica, 1.61
|
