1. Hesiod, Works And Days, 203-212, 202 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
| 202. Might will be right and shame shall cease to be |
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2. Homer, Odyssey, 4.382-4.569 (8th cent. BCE - 7th cent. BCE)
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3. Theocritus, Idylls, 11.34, 11.72 (4th cent. BCE - 3rd cent. BCE)
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4. Cicero, On The Ends of Good And Evil, 3.63-3.64 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 3.63. ex hoc nascitur ut etiam etiam ut BE communis hominum inter homines naturalis sit commendatio, ut oporteat hominem ab homine ob id ipsum, quod homo sit, non alienum videri. ut enim in membris alia sunt sunt N 2 sint tamquam sibi nata, ut oculi, ut aures, alia alia Marsus aliqua ARN aliaque BE reliqua V etiam ceterorum membrorum usum adiuvant, ut crura, ut manus, sic inmanes quaedam bestiae bestie quedam BE sibi solum natae sunt, at illa, quae in concha patula pina dicitur, isque, qui enat e concha, qui, quod eam custodit, pinoteres vocatur in eandemque in eandemque BE in eamque cum se recepit recepit cod. Glogav. recipit includitur, ut videatur monuisse ut caveret, itemque formicae, apes, ciconiae aliorum etiam causa quaedam faciunt. multo haec coniunctius homines. coniunctius homines Mdv. coniunctio est hominis itaque natura sumus apti ad coetus, concilia, consilia Non. civitatis Non. RV civitates. itaque ... civitatis ( v. 18 ) Non. p. 234 3.64. mundum autem censent regi numine deorum, eumque esse quasi communem urbem et civitatem hominum et deorum, et unum quemque nostrum eius mundi esse partem; ex quo illud natura consequi, ut communem utilitatem nostrae anteponamus. ut enim leges omnium salutem singulorum saluti anteponunt, sic vir bonus et sapiens et legibus parens et civilis officii non ignarus utilitati omnium plus quam unius alicuius aut suae consulit. nec magis est vituperandus proditor patriae quam communis utilitatis aut salutis desertor propter suam utilitatem aut salutem. ex quo fit, ut laudandus is sit, qui mortem oppetat pro re publica, quod deceat deceat dett. doceat ( in A ab ead. m. corr. ex diceat) cariorem nobis esse patriam quam nosmet ipsos. quoniamque quoniamque quēque R illa vox inhumana et scelerata ducitur eorum, qui negant se recusare quo minus ipsis mortuis terrarum omnium deflagratio consequatur—quod vulgari quodam versu Graeco pronuntiari solet—, certe verum est etiam iis, qui aliquando futuri sint, esse propter ipsos consulendum. | 3.63. From this impulse is developed the sense of mutual attraction which unites human beings as such; this also is bestowed by nature. The mere fact of their common humanity requires that one man should feel another man to be akin to him. For just as some of the parts of the body, such as the eyes and the ears, are created as it were for their own sakes, while others like the legs or the hands also subserve the utility of the rest of the members, so some very large animals are born for themselves alone; whereas the seaâpen, as it is called, in its roomy shell, and the creature named the 'pinoteres' because it keeps watch over the seaâpen, which swims out of the seaâpen's shell, then retires back into it and is shut up inside, thus appearing to have warned its host to be on its guard â these creatures, and also the ant, the bee, the stork, do certain actions for the sake of others besides themselves. With human beings this bond of mutual aid is far more intimate. It follows that we are by nature fitted to form unions, societies and states. 3.64. "Again, they hold that the universe is governed by divine will; it is a city or state of which both men and gods are members, and each one of us is a part of this universe; from which it is a natural consequence that we should prefer the common advantage to our own. For just as the laws set the safety of all above the safety of individuals, so a good, wise and lawâabiding man, conscious of his duty to the state, studies the advantage of all more than that of himself or of any single individual. The traitor to his country does not deserve greater reprobation than the man who betrays the common advantage or security for the sake of his own advantage or security. This explains why praise is owed to one who dies for the commonwealth, because it becomes us to love our country more than ourselves. And as we feel it wicked and inhuman for men to declare (the saying is usually expressed in a familiar Greek line) that they care not if, when they themselves are dead, the universal conflagration ensues, it is undoubtedly true that we are bound to study the interest of posterity also for its own sake. |
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5. Cicero, On The Nature of The Gods, 1.38, 2.62 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.38. Persaeus, another pupil of Zeno, says that men have deified those persons who have made some discovery of special utility for civilization, and that useful and health-giving things have themselves been called by divine names; he did not even say that they were discoveries of the gods, but speaks of them as actually divine. But what could be more ridiculous than to award divine honours to things mean and ugly, or to give the rank of gods to men now dead and gone, whose worship could only take the form of lamentation? 2.62. Those gods therefore who were the authors of various benefits owned their deification to the value of the benefits which they bestowed, and indeed the names that I just now enumerated express the various powers of the gods that bear them. "Human experience moreover and general custom have made it a practice to confer the deification of renown and gratitude upon of distinguished benefactors. This is the origin of Hercules, of Castor and Pollux, of Aesculapius, and also of Liber (I mean Liber the son of Semele, not the Liber whom our ancestors solemnly and devoutly consecrated with Ceres and Libera, the import of which joint consecration may be gathered from the mysteries; but Liber and Libera were so named as Ceres' offspring, that being the meaning of our Latin word liberi — a use which has survived in the case of Libera but not of Liber) — and this is also the origin of Romulus, who is believed to be the same as Quirinus. And these benefactors were duly deemed divine, as being both supremely good and immortal, because their souls survived and enjoyed eternal life. |
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6. Cicero, On Duties, 1.49-1.58, 3.22-3.23, 3.27-3.28 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.49. Acceptorum autem beneficiorum sunt dilectus habendi, nec dubium, quin maximo cuique plurimum debeatur. In quo tamen in primis, quo quisque animo, studio, benivolentia fecerit, ponderandum est. Multi enim faciunt multa temeritate quadam sine iudicio vel morbo in omnes vel repentino quodam quasi vento impetu animi incitati; quae beneficia aeque magna non sunt habenda atque ea, quae iudicio, considerate constanterque delata sunt. Sed in collocando beneficio et in referenda gratia, si cetera paria sunt, hoc maxime officii est, ut quisque maxime opis indigeat, ita ei potissimum opitulari; quod contra fit a plerisque; a quo enim plurimum sperant, etiamsi ille iis non eget, tamen ei potissimum inserviunt. 1.50. Optime autem societas hominum coniunctioque servabitur, si, ut quisque erit coniunctissimus, ita in eum benignitatis plurimum conferetur. Sed, quae naturae principia sint communitatis et societatis humanae, repetendum videtur altius; est enim primum, quod cernitur in universi generis humani societate. Eius autem vinculum est ratio et oratio, quae docendo, discendo, communicando, disceptando, iudicando conciliat inter se homines coniungitque naturali quadam societate; neque ulla re longius absumus a natura ferarum, in quibus inesse fortitudinem saepe dicimus, ut in equis, in leonibus, iustitiam, aequitatem, bonitatem non dicimus; sunt enim rationis et orationis expertes. 1.51. Ac latissime quidem patens hominibus inter ipsos, omnibus inter omnes societas haec est; in qua omnium rerum, quas ad communem hominum usum natura genuit, est servanda communitas, ut, quae discripta sunt legibus et iure civili, haec ita teneantur, ut sit constitutum legibus ipsis, cetera sic observentur, ut in Graecorum proverbio est, amicorum esse communia omnia. Omnium autem communia hominum videntur ea, quae sunt generis eius, quod ab Ennio positum in una re transferri in permultas potest: Homó, qui erranti cómiter monstrát viam, Quasi lúmen de suo lúmine accendát, facit. Nihiló minus ipsi lúcet, cum illi accénderit. Una ex re satis praecipit, ut, quicquid sine detrimento commodari possit, id tribuatur vel ignoto; 1.52. ex quo sunt illa communia: non prohibere aqua profluente, pati ab igne ignem capere, si qui velit, consilium fidele deliberanti dare, quae sunt iis utilia, qui accipiunt, danti non molesta. Quare et his utendum est et semper aliquid ad communem utilitatem afferendum. Sed quoniam copiae parvae singulorum sunt, eorum autem, qui his egeant, infinita est multitudo, vulgaris liberalitas referenda est ad illum Ennii finem: Nihilo minus ipsi lucet, ut facultas sit, qua in nostros simus liberales. 1.53. Gradus autem plures sunt societatis hominum. Ut enim ab illa infinita discedatur, propior est eiusdem gentis, nationis, linguae, qua maxime homines coniunguntur; interius etiam est eiusdem esse civitatis; multa enim sunt civibus inter se communia, forum, fana, porticus, viae, leges, iura: iudicia, suffragia, consuetudines praeterea et familiaritates multisque cum multis res rationesque contractae. Artior vero colligatio est societatis propinquorum; ab illa enim immensa societate humani generis in exiguum angustumque concluditur. 1.54. Nam cum sit hoc natura commune animantium, ut habeant libidinem procreandi, prima societas in ipso coniugio est, proxima in liberis, deinde una domus, communia omnia; id autem est principium urbis et quasi seminarium rei publicae. Sequuntur fratrum coniunctiones, post consobrinorum sobrinorumque, qui cum una domo iam capi non possint, in alias domos tamquam in colonias exeunt. Sequuntur conubia et affinitates, ex quibus etiam plures propinqui; quae propagatio et suboles origo est rerum publicarum. Sanguinis autem coniunctio et benivolentia devincit homines et caritate; 1.55. magnum est enim eadem habere monumenta maiorum, eisdem uti sacris, sepulcra habere communia. Sed omnium societatum nulla praestantior est, nulla firmior, quam cum viri boni moribus similes sunt familiaritate coniuncti; illud enim honestum quod saepe dicimus, etiam si in alio cernimus, tamen nos movet atque illi, in quo id inesse videtur, amicos facit. 1.56. Et quamquam omnis virtus nos ad se allicit facitque, ut eos diligamus, in quibus ipsa inesse videatur, tamen iustitia et liberalitas id maxime efficit. Nihil autem est amabilius nec copulatius quam morum similitudo bonorum; in quibus enim eadem studia sunt, eaedem voluntates, in iis fit ut aeque quisque altero delectetur ac se ipso, efficiturque id, quod Pythagoras vult in amicitia, ut unus fiat ex pluribus. Magna etiam illa communitas est, quae conficitur ex beneficiis ultro et citro datis acceptis, quae et mutua et grata dum sunt, inter quos ea sunt, firma devinciuntur societate. 1.57. Sed cum omnia ratione animoque lustraris, omnium societatum nulla est gravior, nulla carior quam ea, quae cum re publica est uni cuique nostrum. Cari sunt parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiars, sed omnes omnium caritates patria una complexa est, pro qua quis bonus dubitet mortem oppetere, si ei sit profuturus? Quo est detestabilior istorum immanitas, qui lacerarunt omni scelere patriam et in ea funditus delenda occupati et sunt et fuerunt. 1.58. Sed si contentio quaedam et comparatio fiat, quibus plurimum tribuendum sit officii, principes sint patria et parentes, quorum beneficiis maximis obligati sumus,proximi liberi totaque domus, quae spectat in nos solos neque aliud ullum potest habere perfugium, deinceps bene convenientes propinqui, quibuscum communis etiam fortuna plerumque est. Quam ob rem necessaria praesidia vitae debentur iis maxime, quos ante dixi, vita autem victusque communis, consilia, sermones, cohortationes, consolationes, interdum etiam obiurgationes in amicitiis vigent maxime, estque ea iucundissima amicitia, quam similitudo morum coniugavit. 3.22. Ut, si unum quodque membrum sensum hunc haberet, ut posse putaret se valere, si proximi membri valetudinem ad se traduxisset, debilitari et interire totum corpus necesse esset, sic, si unus quisque nostrum ad se rapiat commoda aliorum detrahatque, quod cuique possit, emolumenti sui gratia, societas hominum et communitas evertatur necesse est. Nam sibi ut quisque malit, quod ad usum vitae pertineat, quam alteri acquirere, concessum est non repugte natura, illud natura non patitur, ut aliorum spoliis nostras facultates, copias, opes augeamus. 3.23. Neque vero hoc solum natura, id est iure gentium, sed etiam legibus populorum, quibus in singulis civitatibus res publica continetur, eodem modo constitutum est, ut non liceat sui commodi causa nocere alteri; hoc enim spectant leges, hoc volunt, incolumem esse civium coniunctionem; quam qui dirimunt, eos morte, exsilio, vinclis, damno coërcent. Atque hoc multo magis efficit ipsa naturae ratio, quae est lex divina et humana; cui parere qui velit (omnes autem parebunt, qui secundum naturam volent vivere), numquam committet, ut alienum appetat et id, quod alteri detraxerit, sibi adsumat. 3.27. Atque etiam, si hoc natura praescribit, ut homo homini, quicumque sit, ob eam ipsam causam, quod is homo sit, consultum velit, necesse est secundum eandem naturam omnium utilitatem esse communem. Quod si ita est, una continemur omnes et eadem lege naturae, idque ipsum si ita est, certe violare alterum naturae lege prohibemur. Verum autem primum; verum igitur extremum. 3.28. Nam illud quidem absurdum est, quod quidam dicunt, parenti se aut fratri nihil detracturos sui commodi causa, aliam rationem esse civium reliquorum. Hi sibi nihil iuris, nullam societatem communis utilitatis causa statuunt esse cum civibus, quae sententia omnem societatem distrahit civitatis. Qui autem civium rationem dicunt habendam, externorum negant, ii dirimunt communem humani generis societatem; qua sublata beneficentia, liberalitas, bonitas, iustitia funditus tollitur; quae qui tollunt, etiam adversus deos immortales impii iudicandi sunt. Ab iis enim constitutam inter homines societatem evertunt, cuius societatis artissimum vinculum est magis arbitrari esse contra naturam hominem homini detrahere sui commodi causa quam omnia incommoda subire vel externa vel corporis vel etiam ipsius animi, quae vacent iustitia; haec enim una virtus omnium est domina et regina virtutum. | 1.49. Furthermore, we must make some discrimination between favours received; for, as a matter of course the greater the favour, the greater is the obligation. But in deciding this we must above all give due weight to the spirit, the devotion, the affection that prompted the favour. For many people often do favours impulsively for everybody without discrimination, prompted by a morbid sort of benevolence or by a sudden impulse of the heart, shifting the wind. Such acts of generosity are not to be so highly esteemed as those which are performed with judgment, deliberation, and mature consideration. But in bestowing a kindness, as well as in making a requital, the first rule of duty requires us â other things being equal â to lend assistance preferably to people in proportion to their individual need. Most people adopt the contrary course: they put themselves most eagerly at the service of the one from whom they hope to receive the greatest favours even though he has no need of their help. 1.50. The interests of society, however, and its common bonds will be best conserved, if kindness be shown to each individual in proportion to the closeness of his relationship. But it seems we must trace back to their ultimate sources the principles of fellowship and society that Nature has established among men. The first principle is that which is found in the connection subsisting between all the members of the human race; and that bond of connection is reason and speech, which by the processes of teaching and learning, of communicating, discussing, and reasoning associate men together and unite them in a sort of natural fraternity. In no other particular are we farther removed from the nature of beasts; for we admit that they may have courage (horses and lions, for example); but we do not admit that they have justice, equity, and goodness; for they are not endowed with reason or speech. 1.51. This, then, is the most comprehensive bond that unites together men as men and all to all; and under it the common right to all things that Nature has produced for the common use of man is to be maintained, with the understanding that, while everything assigned as private property by the statutes and by civil law shall be so held as prescribed by those same laws, everything else shall be regarded in the light indicated by the Greek proverb: "Amongst friends all things in common." Furthermore, we find the common property of all men in things of the sort defined by Ennius; and, though restricted by him to one instance, the principle may be applied very generally: "Who kindly sets a wand'rer on his way Does e'en as if he lit another's lamp by his: No less shines his, when he his friend's hath lit." In this example he effectively teaches us all to bestow even upon a stranger what it costs us nothing to give. 1.52. On this principle we have the following maxims:"Deny no one the water that flows by;" "Let anyone who will take fire from our fire;" "Honest counsel give to one who is in doubt;" for such acts are useful to the recipient and cause the giver no loss. We should, therefore, adopt these principles and always be contributing something to the common weal. But since the resources of individuals are limited and the number of the needy is infinite, this spirit of universal liberality must be regulated according to that test of Ennius â "No less shines his" â in order that we may continue to have the means for being generous to our friends. 1.53. Then, too, there are a great many degrees of closeness or remoteness in human society. To proceed beyond the universal bond of our common humanity, there is the closer one of belonging to the same people, tribe, and tongue, by which men are very closely bound together; it is a still closer relation to be citizens of the same city-state; for fellow-citizens have much in common â forum, temples colonnades, streets, statutes, laws, courts, rights of suffrage, to say nothing of social and friendly circles and diverse business relations with many. But a still closer social union exists between kindred. Starting with that infinite bond of union of the human race in general, the conception is now confined to a small and narrow circle. 1.54. For since the reproductive instinct is by Nature's gift the common possession of all living creatures, the first bond of union is that between husband and wife; the next, that between parents and children; then we find one home, with everything in common. And this is the foundation of civil government, the nursery, as it were, of the state. Then follow the bonds between brothers and sisters, and next those of first and then of second cousins; and when they can no longer be sheltered under one roof, they go out into other homes, as into colonies. Then follow between these in turn, marriages and connections by marriage, and from these again a new stock of relations; and from this propagation and after-growth states have their beginnings. The bonds of common blood hold men fast through good-will and affection; 1.55. for it means much to share in common the same family traditions, the same forms of domestic worship, and the same ancestral tombs. But of all the bonds of fellowship, there is none more noble, none more powerful than when good men of congenial character are joined in intimate friendship; for really, if we discover in another that moral goodness on which I dwell so much, it attracts us and makes us friends to the one in whose character it seems to dwell. 1.56. And while every virtue attracts us and makes us love those who seem to possess it, still justice and generosity do so most of all. Nothing, moreover, is more conducive to love and intimacy than compatibility of character in good men; for when two people have the same ideals and the same tastes, it is a natural consequence that each loves the other as himself; and the result is, as Pythagoras requires of ideal friendship, that several are united in one. Another strong bond of fellowship is effected by mutual interchange of kind services; and as long as these kindnesses are mutual and acceptable, those between whom they are interchanged are united by the ties of an enduring intimacy. 1.57. But when with a rational spirit you have surveyed the whole field, there is no social relation among them all more close, none more close, none more dear than that which links each one of us with our country. Parents are dear; dear are children, relatives, friends; one native land embraces all our loves; and who that is true would hesitate to give his life for her, if by his death he could render her a service? So much the more execrable are those monsters who have torn their fatherland to pieces with every form of outrage and who are and have been engaged in compassing her utter destruction. 1.58. Now, if a contrast and comparison were to be made to find out where most of our moral obligation is due, country would come first, and parents; for their services have laid us under the heaviest obligation; next come children and the whole family, who look to us alone for support and can have no other protection; finally, our kinsmen, with whom we live on good terms and with whom, for the most part, our lot is one. All needful material assistance is, therefore, due first of all to those whom I have named; but intimate relationship of life and living, counsel, conversation, encouragement, comfort, and sometimes even reproof flourish best in friendships. And that friendship is sweetest which is cemented by congeniality of character. 3.22. Suppose, by way of comparison, that each one of our bodily members should conceive this idea and imagine that it could be strong and well if it should draw off to itself the health and strength of its neighbouring member, the whole body would necessarily be enfeebled and die; so, if each one of us should seize upon the property of his neighbours and take from each whatever he could appropriate to his own use, the bonds of human society must inevitably be annihilated. For, without any conflict with Nature's laws, it is granted that everybody may prefer to secure for himself rather than for his neighbour what is essential for the conduct of life; but Nature's laws do forbid us to increase our means, wealth, and resources by despoiling others. 3.23. But this principle is established not by Nature's laws alone (that is, by the common rules of equity), but also by the statutes of particular communities, in accordance with which in individual states the public interests are maintained. In all these it is with one accord ordained that no man shall be allowed for the sake of his own advantage to injure his neighbour. For it is to this that the laws have regard; this is their intent, that the bonds of union between citizens should not be impaired; and any attempt to destroy these bonds is repressed by the penalty of death, exile, imprisonment, or fine. Again, this principle follows much more effectually directly from the Reason which is in Nature, which is the law of gods and men. If anyone will hearken to that voice (and all will hearken to it who wish to live in accord with Nature's laws), he will never be guilty of coveting anything that is his neighbour's or of appropriating to himself what he has taken from his neighbour. 3.27. And further, if Nature ordains that one man shall desire to promote the interests of a fellow-man, whoever he may be, just because he is a fellow-man, then it follows, in accordance with that same Nature, that there are interests that all men have in common. And, if this is true, we are all subject to one and the same law of Nature; and, if this also is true, we are certainly forbidden by Nature's law to wrong our neighbour. Now the first assumption is true; therefore the conclusion is likewise true. 3.28. For that is an absurd position which is taken by some people, who say that they will not rob a parent or a brother for their own gain, but that their relation to the rest of their fellow-citizens is quite another thing. Such people contend in essence that they are bound to their fellow-citizens by no mutual obligations, social ties, or common interests. This attitude demolishes the whole structure of civil society. Others again who say that regard should be had for the rights of fellow-citizens, but not of foreigners, would destroy the universal brotherhood of mankind; and, when this is annihilated, kindness, generosity, goodness, and justice must utterly perish; and those who work all this destruction must be considered as wickedly rebelling against the immortal gods. For they uproot the fellowship which the gods have established between human beings, and the closest bond of this fellowship is the conviction that it is more repugt to Nature for man to rob a fellow-man for his own gain than to endure all possible loss, whether to his property or to his person . . . or even to his very soul â so far as these losses are not concerned with justice; for this virtue is the sovereign mistress and queen of all the virtues. |
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7. Cicero, On Old Age, 56-61, 55 (2nd cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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8. Diodorus Siculus, Historical Library, 1.13, 1.16, 1.21-1.22, 1.28-1.29 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.13. 1. And besides these there are other gods, they say, who were terrestrial, having once been mortals, but who, by reason of their sagacity and the good services which they rendered to all men, attained immortality, some of them having even been kings in Egypt.,2. Their names, when translated, are in some cases the same as those of the celestial gods, while others have a distinct appellation, such as Helius, Cronus, and Rhea, and also the Zeus who is called Ammon by some, and besides these Hera and Hephaestus, also Hestia, and, finally, Hermes. Helius was the first king of the Egyptians, his name being the same as that of the heavenly star.,3. Some of the priests, however, say that Hephaestus was their first king, since he was the discoverer of fire and received the rule because of this service to mankind; for once, when a tree on the mountains had been struck by lightning and the forest near by was ablaze, Hephaestus went up to it, for it was winter-time, and greatly enjoyed the heat; as the fire died down he kept adding fuel to it, and while keeping the fire going in this way he invited the rest of mankind to enjoy the advantage which came from it.,4. Then Cronus became the ruler, and upon marrying his sister Rhea he begat Osiris and Isis, according to some writers of mythology, but, according to the majority, Zeus and Hera, whose high achievements gave them dominion over the entire universe. From these last were sprung five gods, one born on each of the five days which the Egyptians intercalate; the names of these children were Osiris and Isis, and also Typhon, Apollo, and Aphroditê;,5. and Osiris when translated is Dionysus, and Isis is more similar to Demeter than to any other goddess; and after Osiris married Isis and succeeded to the kingship he did many things of service to the social life of man. 1.16. 1. It was by Hermes, for instance, according to them, that the common language of mankind was first further articulated, and that many objects which were still nameless received an appellation, that the alphabet was invented, and that ordices regarding the honours and offerings due to the gods were duly established; he was the first also to observe the orderly arrangement of the stars and the harmony of the musical sounds and their nature, to establish a wrestling school, and to give thought to the rhythmical movement of the human body and its proper development. He also made a lyre and gave it three strings, imitating the seasons of the year; for he adopted three tones, a high, a low, and a medium; the high from the summer, the low from the winter, and the medium from the spring.,2. The Greeks also were taught by him how to expound (hermeneia) their thoughts, and it was for this reason that he was given the name Hermes. In a word, Osiris, taking him for his priestly scribe, communicated with him on every matter and used his counsel above that of all others. The olive tree also, they claim, was his discovery, not Athena's, as the Greeks say. 1.21. 1. Although the priests of Osiris had from the earliest times received the account of his death as a matter not to be divulged, in the course of years it came about that through some of their number this hidden knowledge was published to the many.,2. This is the story as they give it: When Osiris was ruling over Egypt as its lawful king, he was murdered by his brother Typhon, a violent and impious man; Typhon then divided the body of the slain man into twenty-six pieces and gave one portion to each of the band of murderers, since he wanted all of them to share in the pollution and felt that in this way he would have in them steadfast supporters and defenders of his rule.,3. But Isis, the sister and wife of Osiris, avenged his murder with the aid of her son Horus, and after slaying Typhon and his accomplices became queen over Egypt.,4. The struggle between them took place on the banks of the Nile near the village now known as Antaeus, which, they say, lies on the Arabian side of the river and derives its name from that of Antaeus, a contemporary of Osiris, who was punished by Heracles.,5. Now Isis recovered all the pieces of the body except the privates, and wishing that the burial-place of her husband should remain secret and yet be honoured by all the inhabitants of Egypt, she fulfilled her purpose in somewhat the following manner. Over each piece of the body, as the account goes, she fashioned out of spices and wax a human figure about the size of Osiris;,6. then summoning the priests group by group, she required all of them an oath that they would reveal to no one the trust which she was going to confide to them, and taking each group of them apart privately she said that she was consigning to them alone the burial of the body, and after reminding them of the benefactions of Osiris she exhorted them to bury his body in their own district and pay honours to him as to a god, and to consecrate to him also some one that they might choose of the animals native to their district, pay it while living the honours which they had formerly rendered to Osiris, and upon its death accord it the same kind of funeral as they had given to him.,7. And since Isis wished to induce the priests to render these honours by the incentive of their own profit also, she gave them the third part of the country to defray the cost of the worship and service of the gods.,8. And the priests, it is said, being mindful of the benefactions of Osiris and eager to please the queen who was petitioning them, and incited as well by their own profit, did everything just as Isis had suggested.,9. It is for this reason that even to this day each group of priests supposes that Osiris lies buried in their district, pays honours to the animals which were originally consecrated to him, and, when these die, renews in the funeral rites for them the mourning for Osiris.,10. The consecration to Osiris, however, of the sacred bulls, which are given the names Apis and Mnevis, and worship of them as gods were introduced generally among all the Egyptians,,11. since these animals had, more than any others, rendered aid to those who discovered the fruit of the grain, in connection with both the sowing of the seed and with every agricultural labour from which mankind profits. 1.22. 1. Isis, they say, after the death of Osiris took a vow never to marry another man, and passed the remainder of her life reigning over the land with complete respect for the law and surpassing all sovereigns in benefactions to her subjects.,2. And like her husband she also, when she passed from among men, received immortal honours and was buried near Memphis, where her shrine is pointed out to this day in the temple-area of Hephaestus.,3. According to some writers, however, the bodies of these two gods rest, not in Memphis, but on the border between Egypt and Ethiopia, on the island in the Nile which lies near the city which is called Philae, but is referred to because of this burial as the Holy Field.,4. In proof of this they point to remains which still survive on this island, both to the tomb constructed for Osiris, which is honoured in common by all the priests of Egypt, and to the three hundred and sixty libation bowls which are placed around it;,5. for the priests appointed over these bowls fill them each day with milk, singing all the while a dirge in which they call upon the names of these gods.,6. It is for this reason that travellers are not allowed to set foot on this island. And all the inhabitants of the Thebaid, which is the oldest portion of Egypt, hold it to be the strongest oath when a man swears "by Osiris who lieth in Philae." Now the parts of the body of Osiris which were found were honoured with burial, they say, in the manner described above, but the privates, according to them, were thrown by Typhon into the Nile because no one of his accomplices was willing to take them. Yet Isis thought them as worthy of divine honours as the other parts, for, fashioning a likeness of them, she set it up in the temples, commanded that it be honoured, and made it the object of the highest regard and reverence in the rites and sacrifices accorded to the god.,7. Consequently the Greeks too, inasmuch as they received from Egypt the celebrations of the orgies and the festivals connected with Dionysus, honour this member in both the mysteries and the initiatory rites and sacrifices of this god, giving it the name "phallus. 1.28. 1. Now the Egyptians say that also after these events a great number of colonies were spread from Egypt over all the inhabited world. To Babylon, for instance, colonists were led by Belus, who was held to be the son of Poseidon and Libya; and after establishing himself on the Euphrates river he appointed priests, called Chaldaeans by the Babylonians, who were exempt from taxation and free from every kind of service to the state, as are the priests of Egypt; and they also make observations of the stars, following the example of the Egyptian priests, physicists, and astrologers.,2. They say also that those who set forth with Danaus, likewise from Egypt, settled what is practically the oldest city in Greece, Argos, and that the nation of the Colchi in Pontus and that of the Jews, which lies between Arabia and Syria, were founded as colonies by certain emigrants from their country;,3. and this is the reason why it is a long-established institution among these two peoples to circumcise their male children, the custom having been brought over from Egypt.,4. Even the Athenians, they say, are colonists from Saïs in Egypt, and they undertake to offer proofs of such a relationship; for the Athenians are the only Greeks who call their city "Asty," a name brought over from the city Asty in Egypt. Furthermore, their body politic had the same classification and division of the people as found in Egypt, where the citizens have been divided into three orders:,5. the first Athenian class consisted of the "eupatrids," as they were called, being those who were such as had received the best education and were held worthy of the highest honour, as is the case with the priests of Egypt; the second was that of the "geomoroi," who were expected to possess arms and to serve in defence of the state, like those in Egypt who are known as husbandmen and supply the warriors; and the last class was reckoned to be that of the "demiurgoi," who practise the mechanical arts and render only the most menial services to the state, this class among the Egyptians having a similar function.,6. Moreover, certain of the rulers of Athens were originally Egyptians, they say. Petes, for instance, the father of that Menestheus who took part in the expedition against Troy, having clearly been an Egyptian, later obtained citizenship at Athens and the kingship. . . .,7. He was of double form, and yet the Athenians are unable from their own point of view to give the true explanation of this nature of his, although it is patent to all that it was because of his double citizenship, Greek and barbarian, that he was held to be of double form, that is, part animal and part man. 1.29. 1. In the same way, they continue, Erechtheus also, who was by birth an Egyptian, became king of Athens, and in proof of this they offer the following considerations. Once when there was a great drought, as is generally agreed, which extended over practically all the inhabited earth except Egypt because of the peculiar character of that country, and there followed a destruction both of crops and of men in great numbers, Erechtheus, through his racial connection with Egypt, brought from there to Athens a great supply of grain, and in return those who had enjoyed this aid made their benefactor king.,2. After he had secured the throne he instituted the initiatory rites of Demeter in Eleusis and established the mysteries, transferring their ritual from Egypt. And the tradition that an advent of the goddess into Attica also took place at that time is reasonable, since it was then that the fruits which are named after her were brought to Athens, and this is why it was thought that the discovery of the seed had been made again, as though Demeter had bestowed the gift.,3. And the Athenians on their part agree that it was in the reign of Erechtheus, when a lack of rain had wiped out the crops, that Demeter came to them with the gift of grain. Furthermore, the initiatory rites and mysteries of this goddess were instituted at Eleusis at that time.,4. And their sacrifices as well as their ancient ceremonies are observed by the Athenians in the same way as by the Egyptians; for the Eumolpidae were derived from the priests of Egypt and the Ceryces from the pastophoroi. They are also the only Greeks who swear by Isis, and they closely resemble the Egyptians in both their appearance and manners.,5. By many other statements like these, spoken more out of a love for glory than with regard for the truth, as I see the matter, they claim Athens as a colony of theirs because of the fame of that city. In general, the Egyptians say that their ancestors sent forth numerous colonies to many parts of the inhabited world, the pre-eminence of their former kings and their excessive population;,6. but since they offer no precise proof whatsoever for these statements, and since no historian worthy of credence testifies in their support, we have not thought that their accounts merited recording. So far as the ideas of the Egyptians about the gods are concerned, let what we have said suffice, since we are aiming at due proportion in our account, but with regard to the land, the Nile, and everything else worth hearing about we shall endeavour, in each case, to give the several facts in summary. |
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9. Horace, Ars Poetica, 392-393, 391 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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10. Lucretius Carus, On The Nature of Things, 1.123, 1.250-1.261, 1.418, 1.922-1.930, 1.951, 3.1070, 4.880, 5.273, 5.840, 5.1367-5.1369, 6.1138-6.1286 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
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11. Ovid, Amores, 1.3.22, 1.7.2-1.7.3, 1.8 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
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12. Ovid, Ars Amatoria, 1.206 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
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13. Ovid, Fasti, 1.103, 1.163-1.164, 1.347-1.360, 1.362-1.456, 3.285-3.348 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
| 1.103. The ancients called me Chaos (since I am of the first world): 1.347. The knife that bares the entrails of the stricken bull 1.348. Had no role to perform in the sacred rites. 1.349. Ceres was first to delight in the blood of the greedy sow 1.350. Her crops avenged by the rightful death of the guilty creature 1.351. She learned that in spring the grain, milky with sweet juice 1.352. Had been uprooted by the snouts of bristling pigs. 1.353. The swine were punished: terrified by that example 1.354. You should have spared the vine-shoots, he-goat. 1.355. Watching a goat nibbling a vine someone once 1.356. Vented their indignation in these words: 1.357. ‘Gnaw the vine, goat! But when you stand at the altar 1.358. There’ll be something from it to sprinkle on your horns.’ 1.359. Truth followed: Bacchus, your enemy is given you 1.360. To punish, and sprinkled wine flows over its horns. 1.362. But what were you guilty of you sheep and oxen? 1.363. Aristaeus wept because he saw his bees destroyed 1.364. And the hives they had begun left abandoned. 1.365. His azure mother, Cyrene, could barely calm his grief 1.366. But added these final words to what she said: 1.367. ‘Son, cease your tears! Proteus will allay your loss 1.368. And show you how to recover what has perished. 1.369. But lest he still deceives you by changing shape 1.370. Entangle both his hands with strong fastenings.’ 1.371. The youth approached the seer, who was fast asleep 1.372. And bound the arms of that Old Man of the Sea. 1.373. He by his art altered his shape and transformed his face 1.374. But soon reverted to his true form, tamed by the ropes. 1.375. Then raising his dripping head, and sea-green beard 1.376. He said: ‘Do you ask how to recover your bees? 1.377. Kill a heifer and bury its carcase in the earth 1.378. Buried it will produce what you ask of me.’ 1.379. The shepherd obeyed: the beast’s putrid corpse 1.380. Swarmed: one life destroyed created thousands. 1.381. Death claims the sheep: wickedly, it grazed the vervain 1.382. That a pious old woman offered to the rural gods. 1.383. What creature’s safe if woolly sheep, and oxen 1.384. Broken to the plough, lay their lives on the altar? 1.385. Persia propitiates Hyperion, crowned with rays 1.386. With horses, no sluggish victims for the swift god. 1.387. Because a hind was once sacrificed to Diana the twin 1.388. Instead of Iphigeneia, a hind dies, though not for a virgin now. 1.389. I have seen a dog’s entrails offered to Trivia by Sapaeans 1.390. Whose homes border on your snows, Mount Haemus. 1.391. A young ass too is sacrificed to the erect rural guardian 1.392. Priapus, the reason’s shameful, but appropriate to the god. 1.393. Greece, you held a festival of ivy-berried Bacchus 1.394. That used to recur at the appointed time, every third winter. 1.395. There too came the divinities who worshipped him as Lyaeus 1.396. And whoever else was not averse to jesting 1.397. The Pans and the young Satyrs prone to lust 1.398. And the goddesses of rivers and lonely haunts. 1.399. And old Silenus came on a hollow-backed ass 1.400. And crimson Priapus scaring the timid birds with his rod. 1.401. Finding a grove suited to sweet entertainment 1.402. They lay down on beds of grass covered with cloths. 1.403. Liber offered wine, each had brought a garland 1.404. A stream supplied ample water for the mixing. 1.405. There were Naiads too, some with uncombed flowing hair 1.406. Others with their tresses artfully bound. 1.407. One attends with tunic tucked high above the knee 1.408. Another shows her breast through her loosened robe: 1.409. One bares her shoulder: another trails her hem in the grass 1.410. Their tender feet are not encumbered with shoes. 1.411. So some create amorous passion in the Satyrs 1.412. Some in you, Pan, brows wreathed in pine. 1.413. You too Silenus, are on fire, insatiable lecher: 1.414. Wickedness alone prevents you growing old. 1.415. But crimson Priapus, guardian and glory of gardens 1.416. of them all, was captivated by Lotis: 1.417. He desires, and prays, and sighs for her alone 1.418. He signals to her, by nodding, woos her with signs. 1.419. But the lovely are disdainful, pride waits on beauty: 1.420. She laughed at him, and scorned him with a look. 1.421. It was night, and drowsy from the wine 1.422. They lay here and there, overcome by sleep. 1.423. Tired from play, Lotis rested on the grassy earth 1.424. Furthest away, under the maple branches. 1.425. Her lover stood, and holding his breath, stole 1.426. Furtively and silently towards her on tiptoe. 1.427. Reaching the snow-white nymph’s secluded bed 1.428. He took care lest the sound of his breath escaped. 1.429. Now he balanced on his toes on the grass nearby: 1.430. But she was still completely full of sleep. 1.431. He rejoiced, and drawing the cover from her feet 1.432. He happily began to have his way with her. 1.433. Suddenly Silenus’ ass braying raucously 1.434. Gave an untimely bellow from its jaws. 1.435. Terrified the nymph rose, pushed Priapus away 1.436. And, fleeing, gave the alarm to the whole grove. 1.437. But the over-expectant god with his rigid member 1.438. Was laughed at by them all, in the moonlight. 1.439. The creator of that ruckus paid with his life 1.440. And he’s the sacrifice dear to the Hellespontine god. 1.441. You were chaste once, you birds, a rural solace 1.442. You harmless race that haunt the woodlands 1.443. Who build your nests, warm your eggs with your wings 1.444. And utter sweet measures from your ready beaks 1.445. But that is no help to you, because of your guilty tongues 1.446. And the gods’ belief that you reveal their thoughts. 1.447. Nor is that false: since the closer you are to the gods 1.448. The truer the omens you give by voice and flight. 1.449. Though long untouched, birds were killed at last 1.450. And the gods delighted in the informers’ entrails. 1.451. So the white dove, torn from her mate 1.452. Is often burned in the Idalian flames: 1.453. Nor did saving the Capitol benefit the goose 1.454. Who yielded his liver on a dish to you, Inachus’ daughter: 1.455. The cock is sacrificed at night to the Goddess, Night 1.456. Because he summons the day with his waking cries 3.291. Can teach you the rites of expiation. But they won’t 3.292. Teach them unless compelled: so catch and bind them.’ 3.293. And she revealed the arts by which they could be caught. 3.294. There was a grove, dark with holm-oaks, below the Aventine 3.295. At sight of which you would say: ‘There’s a god within.’ 3.296. The centre was grassy, and covered with green moss 3.297. And a perennial stream of water trickled from the rock. 3.298. Faunus and Picus used to drink there alone. 3.299. Numa approached and sacrificed a sheep to the spring 3.300. And set out cups filled with fragrant wine. 3.301. Then he hid with his people inside the cave. 3.302. The woodland spirits came to their usual spring 3.303. And quenched their dry throats with draughts of wine. 3.304. Sleep succeeded wine: Numa emerged from the icy cave 3.305. And clasped the sleepers’ hands in tight shackles. 3.306. When sleep vanished, they fought and tried to burst 3.307. Their bonds, which grew tighter the more they struggled. 3.308. Then Numa spoke: ‘Gods of the sacred groves, if you accept 3.309. My thoughts were free of wickedness, forgive my actions: 3.310. And show me how the lightning may be averted.’ 3.311. So Numa: and, shaking his horns, so Faunus replied: 3.312. ‘You seek great things, that it’s not right for you to know 3.313. Through our admission: our powers have their limits. 3.314. We are rural gods who rule in the high mountains: 3.315. Jupiter has control of his own weapons. 3.316. You could never draw him from heaven by yourself 3.317. But you may be able, by making use of our aid.’ 3.318. Faunus spoke these words: Picus too agreed 3.319. ‘But remove our shackles,’ Picus added: 3.320. ‘Jupiter will arrive here, drawn by powerful art. 3.321. Cloudy Styx will be witness to my promise.’ 3.322. It’s wrong for men to know what the gods enacted when loosed 3.323. From the snare, or what spells they spoke, or by what art 3.324. They drew Jupiter from his realm above. My song will sing 3.325. of lawful things, such as a poet may speak with pious lips. 3.326. The drew you (eliciunt) from the sky, Jupiter, and later 3.327. Generations now worship you, by the name of Elicius. 3.328. It’s true that the crowns of the Aventine woods trembled 3.329. And the earth sank under the weight of Jove. 3.330. The king’s heart shook, the blood fled from his body 3.331. And the bristling hair stood up stiffly on his head. 3.332. When he regained his senses, he said: ‘King and father 3.333. To the high gods, if I have touched your offering 3.334. With pure hands, and if a pious tongue, too, asks for 3.335. What I seek, grant expiation from your lightning,’ 3.336. The god accepted his prayer, but hid the truth with deep 3.337. Ambiguities, and terrified him with confusing words. 3.338. ‘Sever a head,’ said the god: the king replied; ‘I will 3.339. We’ll sever an onion’s, dug from my garden.’ 3.340. The god added: ‘of a man’: ‘You’ll have the hair,’ 3.341. Said the king. He demanded a life, Numa replied: ‘A fish’s’. 3.342. The god laughed and said: ‘Expiate my lightning like this 3.343. O man who cannot be stopped from speaking with gods. 3.344. And when Apollo’s disc is full tomorrow 3.345. I’ll give you sure pledges of empire.’ 3.346. He spoke, and was carried above the quaking sky |
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14. Ovid, Metamorphoses, 15.75-15.175, 15.361-15.367 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. CE)
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15. Propertius, Elegies, 4.5 (1st cent. BCE
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16. Vergil, Aeneis, 3.388, 6.645-6.647 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 3.388. the little port and town. Our weary fleet 6.645. But, speaking first, he said, in their own tongue: 6.646. “Deiphobus, strong warrior, nobly born 6.647. of Teucer's royal stem, what ruthless foe |
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17. Vergil, Eclogues, 6.13, 6.15, 6.19, 6.27, 6.31-6.40, 6.47-6.52, 6.54, 6.62-6.77 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 6.13. of thee, O Varus, shall our tamarisk 6.15. a page more dear to Phoebus, than the page 6.19. ilenus sleeping, flushed, as was his wont 6.27. aegle came up to the half-frightened boys 6.31. and crying, “Why tie the fetters? loose me, boys; 6.40. of Rhodope or Ismarus: for he sang 6.47. little by little; and how the earth amazed 6.48. beheld the new sun shining, and the shower 6.49. fall, as the clouds soared higher, what time the wood 6.50. 'gan first to rise, and living things to roam 6.51. cattered among the hills that knew them not. 6.52. Then sang he of the stones by Pyrrha cast 6.63. of such unhallowed union e'er was fain 6.64. as with a beast to mate, though many a time 6.65. on her smooth forehead she had sought for horns 6.66. and for her neck had feared the galling plough. 6.69. reposing, under some dark ilex now 6.70. chews the pale herbage, or some heifer track 6.71. amid the crowding herd. Now close, ye Nymphs 6.73. if haply there may chance upon mine eye 6.74. the white bull's wandering foot-prints: him belike 6.76. ome kine may guide to the Gortynian stalls. |
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18. Vergil, Georgics, 1.133, 1.293, 1.338, 1.477, 2.1-2.3, 2.35-2.46, 2.61-2.62, 2.207-2.211, 2.485-2.494, 3.1-3.48, 3.66-3.68, 3.242-3.285, 3.289, 3.291-3.292, 3.478-3.566, 4.1-4.7, 4.19-4.20, 4.29, 4.67-4.87, 4.156, 4.170-4.180, 4.184, 4.197-4.218, 4.281-4.447, 4.449-4.566 (1st cent. BCE - 1st cent. BCE)
| 1.133. And when the parched field quivers, and all the blade 1.293. Into fixed parts dividing, rules his way 1.338. Nay even on holy days some tasks to ply 1.477. Through gaping nostrils, or about the mere 2.1. Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven; 2.2. Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee 2.3. The forest's young plantations and the fruit 2.35. Truncheons cleft four-wise, or sharp-pointed stakes; 2.36. Some forest-trees the layer's bent arch await 2.37. And slips yet quick within the parent-soil; 2.38. No root need others, nor doth the pruner's hand 2.39. Shrink to restore the topmost shoot to earth 2.40. That gave it being. Nay, marvellous to tell 2.41. Lopped of its limbs, the olive, a mere stock 2.42. Still thrusts its root out from the sapless wood 2.43. And oft the branches of one kind we see 2.44. Change to another's with no loss to rue 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 2.207. Or sing her harbours, and the barrier cast 2.208. Athwart the Lucrine, and how ocean chafe 2.209. With mighty bellowings, where the Julian wave 2.210. Echoes the thunder of his rout, and through 2.211. Avernian inlets pours the Tuscan tide? 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 3.1. Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee 3.2. Amphrysian shepherd, worthy to be sung 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. 3.23. To him will I, as victor, bravely dight 3.24. In Tyrian purple, drive along the bank 3.25. A hundred four-horse cars. All placeName key= 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 3.35. I'll trace the battle of the Gangarides 3.36. And our Quirinus' conquering arms, and there 3.37. Surging with war, and hugely flowing, the placeName key= 3.38. And columns heaped on high with naval brass. 3.39. And placeName key= 3.40. And quelled Niphates, and the Parthian foe 3.41. Who trusts in flight and backward-volleying darts 3.42. And trophies torn with twice triumphant hand 3.43. From empires twain on ocean's either shore. 3.44. And breathing forms of Parian marble there 3.45. Shall stand, the offspring of Assaracus 3.46. And great names of the Jove-descended folk 3.47. And father Tros, and placeName key= 3.48. of Cynthus. And accursed Envy there 3.66. Be his prime care a shapely dam to choose. 3.67. of kine grim-faced is goodliest, with coarse head 3.68. And burly neck, whose hanging dewlaps reach 3.242. The north wind stoops, and scatters from his path 3.243. Dry clouds and storms of placeName key= 3.244. And rippling plains 'gin shiver with light gusts; 3.245. A sound is heard among the forest-tops; 3.246. Long waves come racing shoreward: fast he flies 3.247. With instant pinion sweeping earth and main. 3.248. A steed like this or on the mighty course 3.249. of placeName key= 3.250. Red foam-flakes from his mouth, or, kindlier task 3.251. With patient neck support the Belgian car. 3.252. Then, broken at last, let swell their burly frame 3.253. With fattening corn-mash, for, unbroke, they will 3.254. With pride wax wanton, and, when caught, refuse 3.255. Tough lash to brook or jagged curb obey. 3.256. But no device so fortifies their power 3.257. As love's blind stings of passion to forefend 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 3.264. His strength with smouldering fire, till he forget 3.265. Both grass and woodland. She indeed full oft 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; 3.270. Wound follows wound; the black blood laves their limbs; 3.271. Horns push and strive against opposing horns 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 3.278. Avenged not; with one glance toward the byre 3.279. His ancient royalties behind him lie. 3.280. So with all heed his strength he practiseth 3.281. And nightlong makes the hard bare stones his bed 3.282. And feeds on prickly leaf and pointed rush 3.283. And proves himself, and butting at a tree 3.284. Learns to fling wrath into his horns, with blow 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 3.478. 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. 4.19. And Procne smirched with blood upon the breast 4.20. From her own murderous hands. For these roam wide 4.29. Lead forth the young swarms, and, escaped their comb 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 4.156. Acanthus, with the praise of ivies pale 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; 4.184. Hung there, by mellowing autumn perfected. 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 4.216. Or ease returning labourers of their load 4.217. Or form a band and from their precincts drive 4.218. The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work! 4.281. They reverence, and with murmuring throngs surround 4.282. In crowds attend, oft shoulder him on high 4.283. Or with their bodies shield him in the fight 4.284. And seek through showering wounds a glorious death. 4.285. Led by these tokens, and with such traits to guide 4.286. Some say that unto bees a share is given 4.287. of the Divine Intelligence, and to drink 4.288. Pure draughts of ether; for God permeates all— 4.289. Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault of heaven— 4.290. From whom flocks, herds, men, beasts of every kind 4.291. Draw each at birth the fine essential flame; 4.292. Yea, and that all things hence to Him return 4.293. Brought back by dissolution, nor can death 4.294. Find place: but, each into his starry rank 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 4.316. Into their comb the newt has gnawed unseen 4.317. And the light-loathing beetles crammed their bed 4.318. And he that sits at others' board to feast 4.319. The do-naught drone; or 'gainst the unequal foe 4.320. Swoops the fierce hornet, or the moth's fell tribe; 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 4.333. Forms reft of light, and lead the mournful pomp; 4.334. Or foot to foot about the porch they hang 4.335. Or within closed doors loiter, listless all 4.336. From famine, and benumbed with shrivelling cold. 4.337. Then is a deep note heard, a long-drawn hum 4.338. As when the chill South through the forests sighs 4.339. As when the troubled ocean hoarsely boom 4.340. With back-swung billow, as ravening tide of fire 4.341. Surges, shut fast within the furnace-walls. 4.342. Then do I bid burn scented galbanum 4.343. And, honey-streams through reeden troughs instilled 4.344. Challenge and cheer their flagging appetite 4.345. To taste the well-known food; and it shall boot 4.346. To mix therewith the savour bruised from gall 4.347. And rose-leaves dried, or must to thickness boiled 4.348. By a fierce fire, or juice of raisin-grape 4.349. From Psithian vine, and with its bitter smell 4.350. Centaury, and the famed Cecropian thyme. 4.351. There is a meadow-flower by country folk 4.352. Hight star-wort; 'tis a plant not far to seek; 4.353. For from one sod an ample growth it rears 4.354. Itself all golden, but girt with plenteous leaves 4.355. Where glory of purple shines through violet gloom. 4.356. With chaplets woven hereof full oft are decked 4.357. Heaven's altars: harsh its taste upon the tongue; 4.358. Shepherds in vales smooth-shorn of nibbling flock 4.359. By placeName key= 4.360. The roots of this, well seethed in fragrant wine 4.361. Set in brimmed baskets at their doors for food. 4.362. But if one's whole stock fail him at a stroke 4.363. Nor hath he whence to breed the race anew 4.364. 'Tis time the wondrous secret to disclose 4.365. Taught by the swain of Arcady, even how 4.366. The blood of slaughtered bullocks oft has borne 4.367. Bees from corruption. I will trace me back 4.368. To its prime source the story's tangled thread 4.369. And thence unravel. For where thy happy folk 4.370. Canopus , city of Pellaean fame 4.371. Dwell by the placeName key= 4.372. And high o'er furrows they have called their own 4.373. Skim in their painted wherries; where, hard by 4.374. The quivered Persian presses, and that flood 4.375. Which from the swart-skinned Aethiop bears him down 4.376. Swift-parted into sevenfold branching mouth 4.377. With black mud fattens and makes Aegypt green 4.378. That whole domain its welfare's hope secure 4.379. Rests on this art alone. And first is chosen 4.380. A strait recess, cramped closer to this end 4.381. Which next with narrow roof of tiles atop 4.382. 'Twixt prisoning walls they pinch, and add hereto 4.383. From the four winds four slanting window-slits. 4.384. Then seek they from the herd a steer, whose horn 4.385. With two years' growth are curling, and stop fast 4.386. Plunge madly as he may, the panting mouth 4.387. And nostrils twain, and done with blows to death 4.388. Batter his flesh to pulp i' the hide yet whole 4.389. And shut the doors, and leave him there to lie. 4.390. But 'neath his ribs they scatter broken boughs 4.391. With thyme and fresh-pulled cassias: this is done 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 4.401. Forth burst they, or like shafts from quivering string 4.402. When 4.403. Say what was he, what God, that fashioned forth 4.404. This art for us, O Muses? of man's skill 4.405. Whence came the new adventure? From thy vale 4.406. Peneian Tempe, turning, bee-bereft 4.407. So runs the tale, by famine and disease 4.408. Mournful the shepherd Aristaeus stood 4.409. Fast by the haunted river-head, and thu 4.410. With many a plaint to her that bare him cried: 4.411. “Mother, Cyrene, mother, who hast thy home 4.412. Beneath this whirling flood, if he thou sayest 4.413. Apollo, lord of Thymbra, be my sire 4.414. Sprung from the Gods' high line, why barest thou me 4.415. With fortune's ban for birthright? Where is now 4.416. Thy love to me-ward banished from thy breast? 4.417. O! wherefore didst thou bid me hope for heaven? 4.418. Lo! even the crown of this poor mortal life 4.419. Which all my skilful care by field and fold 4.420. No art neglected, scarce had fashioned forth 4.421. Even this falls from me, yet thou call'st me son. 4.422. Nay, then, arise! With thine own hands pluck up 4.423. My fruit-plantations: on the homestead fling 4.424. Pitiless fire; make havoc of my crops; 4.425. Burn the young plants, and wield the stubborn axe 4.426. Against my vines, if there hath taken the 4.427. Such loathing of my greatness.” 4.428. But that cry 4.429. Even from her chamber in the river-deeps 4.430. His mother heard: around her spun the nymph 4.431. Milesian wool stained through with hyaline dye 4.432. Drymo, Xantho, Ligea, Phyllodoce 4.433. Their glossy locks o'er snowy shoulders shed 4.434. Cydippe and Lycorias yellow-haired 4.435. A maiden one, one newly learned even then 4.436. To bear Lucina's birth-pang. Clio, too 4.437. And Beroe, sisters, ocean-children both 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 4.441. Fleet-footed Arethusa. But in their midst 4.442. Fair Clymene was telling o'er the tale 4.443. of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth 4.444. of Mars' sweet rapine, and from Chaos old 4.445. Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods. 4.446. Charmed by whose lay, the while their woolly task 4.447. With spindles down they drew, yet once again 4.449. of Aristaeus; on their glassy throne 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 4.457. Stands woebegone and weeping, and by name 4.458. Cries out upon thee for thy cruelty.” 4.459. To whom, strange terror knocking at her heart 4.460. “Bring, bring him to our sight,” the mother cried; 4.461. “His feet may tread the threshold even of Gods.” 4.462. So saying, she bids the flood yawn wide and yield 4.463. A pathway for his footsteps; but the wave 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= 4.478. Than whom none other through the laughing plain 4.479. More furious pours into the purple sea. 4.480. Soon as the chamber's hanging roof of stone 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: 4.494. Armed with which omen she essayed to speak: 4.495. “In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer 4.496. Caerulean Proteus, he who metes the main 4.497. With fish-drawn chariot of two-footed steeds; 4.498. Now visits he his native home once more 4.499. Pallene and the Emathian ports; to him 4.500. We nymphs do reverence, ay, and Nereus old; 4.501. For all things knows the seer, both those which are 4.502. And have been, or which time hath yet to bring; 4.503. So willed it Neptune, whose portentous flocks 4.504. And loathly sea-calves 'neath the surge he feeds. 4.505. Him first, my son, behoves thee seize and bind 4.506. That he may all the cause of sickness show 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 4.530. She sheds around, and all his frame therewith 4.531. Steeps throughly; forth from his trim-combed lock 4.532. Breathed effluence sweet, and a lithe vigour leapt 4.533. Into his limbs. There is a cavern vast 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 |
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19. Seneca The Younger, Letters, 95.52 (1st cent. CE - 1st cent. CE)
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20. Pausanias, Description of Greece, 10.5.4 (2nd cent. CE - 2nd cent. CE)
| 10.5.4. The Cleft Road and the rash deed committed on it by Oedipus were the beginning of his troubles, and the tombs of Laius and the servant who followed him are still just as they were in the very middle of the place where the three roads meet, and over them have been piled unhewn stones. According to the story, it was Damasistratus, king of Plataea, who found the bodies lying and buried them. |
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21. Anon., Joseph And Aseneth, 16.14
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