But the same scene
repeated
o'er and o'er ?
Universal Anthology - v04
Theano,
Like a plucked Siren, has the voice and look
Of woman, but below the waist her limbs Withered and shrunk up to the blackbird's size. These wretched women, one and all, partake
The natures of the Theban Sphinx. They speak In doubtful and ambiguous phrase, pretend
To love you truly, and with artless hearts,
Then whisper in your ear some little want —
A girl to wait on them, forsooth, a bed,
Or easy-chair, a brazen tripod too —
Give what you will, they never are content ;
And to sum up their character at once,
No beast that haunts the forest for his prey
Is half so mischievous.
Abistophon.
[In this period, bat exact dates uncertain. ] Marriage.
A man may marry once without a crime ; But curst is he who weds a second time.
Love.
Love, the disturber of the peace of heaven, And grand tormenter of Olympian feuds,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Was banished from the synod of the gods : They drove him down to earth at the expense Of us poor mortals, and curtailed his wings To spoil his soaring and secure themselves From his annoyance — selfish, hard decree ! For ever since, he roams the unquiet world, The tyrant and despoiler of mankind.
Pythagoras.
I've heard this arrogant impostor tell, Amongst the wonders which he saw in hell, That Pluto with his scholars sat and fed, Singling them out from the inferior dead ; Good faith ! the monarch was not overnice Thus to take up with beggary and lice.
Pythagoras' Disciples.
So gaunt they seem, that famine never made Of lank Philippides so mere a shade :
Of salted tunny-fish their scanty dole,
Their beverage, like the frogs, a standing pool, With now and then a cabbage, at the best
The leavings of the caterpillar's feast ;
No comb approaches their disheveled hair,
To rout the long established myriads there ;
On the bare ground their bed, nor do they know A warmer coverlet than serves the crow.
Flames the meridian sun without a cloud ? They bark like grasshoppers and chirp as loud ; With oil they never even feast their eyes ;
The luxury of stockings they despise,
But, barefoot as the crane, still march along
All night in chorus with the screech-owl's song.
Epicrates.
[An Epirote. Flourished b. c. 376-348. ] Burlesque of the Platonic Ideas.
A. I pbat you, sir, — for I perceive you learned In these grave matters, — let my ignorance suck Some profit from your courtesy, and tell me — What are your wise philosophers engaged in.
Your Plato, Menedemus, and Speusippus ?
What mighty mysteries have they in projection ? What new discoveries may the world expect From their profound researches ?
I conjure you,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
By Earth, our common mother, to impart them ! B. Sir, you shall know at our great festival,
I was myself their hearer, and so much
As I there heard will presently disclose,
So you will give it ears, for I must speak
Of things perchance surpassing your belief,
So strange they will appear ; but so it happened, That these most sage academicians sate
In solemn consultation — on a cabbage.
A. A cabbage ! what did they discover there ?
B. Oh, sir ! your cabbage hath its sex and gender,
Its provinces, prerogatives, and ranks,
And, nicely handled, breeds as many questions
As it does maggots. All the younger fry
Stood dumb with expectation and respect,
Wond'ring what this same cabbage should bring forth ; The lecturer eyed them round, whereat a youth
Took heart, and breaking first the awful silence, Humbly craved leave to think — that it was round ! The cause was now at issue, and a second
Opined it was an herb — a third conceived
With due submission it might be a plant —
The difference methought was such that each
Might keep his own opinion and be right ;
But soon a bolder voice broke up the council,
And, stepping forward, a Sicilian quack
Told them their question was abuse of time, —
It was a cabbage, neither more nor less,
And they were fools to prate so much about it. Insolent wretch ! amazement seized the troop,
Clamor and wrath and tumult raged amain,
Till Plato, trembling for his own philosophy,
And calmly praying patience of the court,
Took up the cabbage, and adjourned the cause.
Alexis.
[About b. c. 390-288 ; In his prime about Alexander's period, say 330. He the model for Menander. ]
How the Procuress doctors her Wares.
They fly at all, and as their funds increase,
With fresh recruits they still augment their stock, Molding the young novitiate to her trade :
Form, feature, manners, everything so changed That not a trace of former self is left.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo.
[Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected fiom a fine collection of these docu ments in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached hears the date 1644.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo. (Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected from a fine collection of these documents in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of
the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached bears the
date 1644.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 311
Is the wench short ? a triple sole of cork
Exalts the pigmy to a proper size.
Is she too tall of stature ? a low chair
Softens the fault, and a fine easy stoop
Lowers her to a standard pitch. If narrow-hipped, A handsome wadding readily supplies
What nature stints, and all beholders cry,
"See what plump haunches ! " Hath the nymph perchance A high round paunch, stuffed like our comic drolls,
And strutting out foreright ? a good stout busk,
Pushing athwart, shall force the intruder back.
Hath she red brows ? a little soot will cure 'em.
Is she too black ? the ceruse makes her fair ;
Too pale of hue ? the opal comes in aid.
Hath she a beauty out of sight ? disclose it !
Strip nature bare without a blush. — Fine teeth ?
Let her affect one everlasting grin,
Laugh without stint — but ah ! if laugh she cannot,
And her lips won't obey, take a fine twig
Of myrtle, shape it like a butcher's skewer,
And prop them open. Set her on the bit
Day after day, when out of sight, till use
Grows second nature, and the pearly rows,
Will she or will she not, perforce appear.
Love.
The man who holds true pleasure to consist In pampering his vile body, and defies
Love's great divinity, rashly maintains
Weak impious war with an immortal god.
The gravest master that the schools can boast Ne'er trained his pupils to such discipline,
As love his votaries — unrivaled power,
The first great deity ; and where is he
So stubborn and determinedly stiff
But shall at some time bend the knee to love,
And make obeisance to his mighty shrine ? One day, as slowly sauntering from the port,
A thousand cares conflicting in my breast, Thus I began to commune with myself :
" Methinks these painters misapply their art, And never know the being which they draw ; For mark their many false conceits of love. Love is not male nor female, man nor god, Nor with intelligence nor yet without
it,
812
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But a strange compound of all these uniting In one mixed essence many opposites ;
A manly courage with a woman's fear,
The madman's frenzy in a reasoning mind, The strength of steel, the fury of a beast, The ambition of a hero — something 'tis,
I swear,
I know not what this nameless something is. "
But by Minerva and the gods !
Gluttony.
You, sir, a Cyrenean, as I take you,
Look at your sect of mad voluptuaries ;
There's Diodorus — begging is too good for him — A vast inheritance in two short years,
Where is it ? Squandered, vanished, gone forever : So rapid was his dissipation. — Stop !
Stop, my good friend, you cry : not quite so fast ! This man went fair and softly to his ruin :
What talk you of two years ? As many days,
Two little days were long enough to finish
Young Epicharides ; he had some soul,
And drove a merry pace to his undoing —
Marry ! if a kind surfeit would surprise us,
Ere we sit down to earn such prevention
Would come most opportune to save the trouble
Of sick stomach and an aching head
But whilst the punishment out of sight,
And the full chalice at our lips we drink,
Drink all to-day, to-morrow fast and mourn,
Sick, and all o'er opprest with nauseous fumes Such the drunkard's curse, and Hell itself Cannot devise a greater — oh, that nature Might quit us of this overbearing burden,
This tyrant god, the belly take that from us With all its bestial appetites, and man, Exonerated man, shall be all soul. "
The only free gift that the gods gave man, — Sleep, that prepares our souls for endless night.
Amphis.
[Alive in b. o. 332; no other date known. ]
Drink and play, for life fleeting short our time beneath the sky;
But for death, he's everlasting when we once have come to die.
;
is
!
it, is
is
;
a
:
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 313
DiODORtrs.
[Of Sinope. Exhibited in 354. ]
This is my rule, and to my rule I'll hold, — To choose my wife by merit, not by gold ; For on that one election must depend Whether I wed a fury or a friend.
When your foe dies, let all resentment cease :
Make peace with death, and death shall give you peace.
Dionysius.
[ Of Sinope. About the same time as Nicostratus. ] The Cook.
The true professor of the art should strive To gratify the taste of every guest ;
For if he merely furnishes the table,
Sees all the dishes properly disposed,
And thinks, having done this, he has discharged His office, he's mistaken, and deserves
To be considered only as a drudge,
A kitchen drudge, without an art or skill,
And differs widely from a cook indeed, A master of his trade.
He bears the name Of general, 'tis true, who heads the army : But he whose comprehensive mind surveys
The whole, who knows to turn each circumstance Of time, and place, and action to advantage, — Foresees what difficulties may occur,
And how to conquer them, — this is the man Who should be called the general ; the other The mere conductor of the troops, no more.
So in our art it is an easy thing
To boil, to roast, to stew, to fricassee,
To blow the bellows or to stir the fire ;
But a professor of the art regards
The time, the place, the inviter, and the guest ; And when the market is well stored with fish, Knows to select, and to prefer such only
As are in proper season, and in short,
Omits no knowledge that may justly lead
To the perfection of his art. 'Tis true, Archestratus has written on the subject,
And is allowed by many to have left
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Most choice receipts, and curious inventions Useful and pleasing; yet in many things He was profoundly ignorant, and speaks Upon report, without substantial proof
Or knowledge of his own. We must not trust, Nor give our faith to loose conjectures thus For in our art we only can depend
On actual practice and experiment.
Having no fixed and settled laws by which
We may be governed, we must frame our own, As time and opportunity may serve,
Which if we do not well improve, the art Itself must suffer by our negligence.
Heniochus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ] The Demon Gfuests.
These are towns of every sort, Which have been crazy now since long ago.
Some one may interrupt and ask me why
They are here before us :
The place in which we meet's the agora
Of Olympia ; and fancy to yourselves
The scene is set as for a theater.
Well then, what are these cities doing here ?
They came here once to sacrifice to freedom
When they were nearly freed from forced exactions : After that sacrifice their recklessness
Destroyed them, entertaining stranger guests
Day after day upon the multiple throne ;
Namely, two women that have stirred them up, Always twin lived : Democracy the name
Of one is, Aristocracy the other ;
Through whom they've acted since most drunkenly !
Mnesimaohus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ]
The Fireeaters.
Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend ? I'll tell thee With gladiators, not with peaceful guests ;
Instead of knives we're armed with naked swords,
And swallow firebrands in the place of food ;
Daggers of Crete are served us for confections,
I will let him know.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 315
And for a plate of pease a fricassee
Of shattered spears ; the cushions we repose on Are shields and breastplates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreathed With military ensigns, not with myrtle.
Timocles.
[About b. o. 350-320. Said to have revived the energy of political comedy. ] Demosthenes.
Bid me say anything in preference ;
But on this theme, Demosthenes himself
Shall sooner check the torrent of his speech
Than I — Demosthenes ! That angry orator,
That bold Briareus, whose tremendous throat, Charged to the teeth with battering rams and spears Beats down opposers ; brief in speech was he,
But, crossed in argument, his threatening eyes Flashed fire, whilst thunder volleyed from his lips.
The Ungrateful Mistress.
Wretch that I am, She had my love when a mere caper-gatherer,
And fortune's smiles as yet were wanting to her.
I never pinched nor spared in my expenses,
Yet now — doors closely barred are the recompense That waits on former bounties ill bestowed.
The Lessons of Tragedy.
Nay, my good friend, but hear me ! I confess
Man is the child of sorrow, and this world,
In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague us ; But it hath means withal to sooth these cares,
And he who meditates on others' woes
Shall in that meditation lose his own.
Call then the tragic poet to your aid,
Hear him, and take instructions from the stage.
Let Telephus appear : behold a prince,
A spectacle of poverty and pain,
Wretched in both. — And what if you are poor ?
Are you a demigod ? are you the son
Of Hercules ? begone ! Complain no more.
Doth your mind struggle with distracting thoughts ?
»
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Do your wits wander ? are you mad ? Alas ! So was Alcmaeon, whilst the world adored His father as their god. Your eyes are dim : What then ? the eyes of CEdipus were dark, Totally dark. You mourn a son ; he's dead : Turn to the tale of Niobe for comfort,
And match your love with hers. You're lame of foot Compare it with the foot of Philoctetes,
And make no more complaint. But you are old,
Old and unfortunate : consult Oeneus ;
Hear what a king endured, and learn content. Sum up your miseries, number up your sighs, The tragic stage shall give you tear for tear, And wash out all afflictions but its own.
Xenabchus. [Contemporary of Timocles. ] Tricks of the Trade.
Poets indeed ! — I should be glad to know
Of what they have to boast. Invention — no !
They invent nothing, but they pilfer much,
Change and invert the order, and pretend
To pass it off for new. But fishmongers
Are fertile in resources, they excel
All our philosophers in ready wit
And sterling impudence. The law forbids,
And strictly, too, to water their stale fish —
How do they manage to evade the fine ?
Why thus : when one of them perceives the board Begins to be offensive, and the fish
Look dry and change their color, he begins
A pre-concerted quarrel with his neighbor.
They come to blows : he soon affects to be
Most desperately beaten, and falls down,
As if unable to support himself,
Gasping for breath ; another, who the while (Knowing the secret) was prepared to act,
Seizes a jar of water, aptly placed,
And scatters a few drops of water on his friend, Then empties the whole vessel on the fish,
Which makes them look so fresh you want to swear They were just taken from the sea.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 317
Ah, faithless women ! when you swear, I register your oaths in air.
Theophilus.
[Dates uncertain. ]
If love be folly, as the schools would prove, The man must lose his wits who falls in love : Deny him love, you doom the wretch to death, And then it follows he must lose his breath. Good sooth ! there is a young and dainty maid I dearly love, a minstrel she by trade ;
What then ? Must I defer to pedant rule, And own that love transforms me to a fool ? Not I, so help me ! By the gods I swear, The nymph I love is fairest of the fair, Wise, witty, dearer to her poet's sight
Than piles of money on an author's night ! Must I not love her, then ? Let the dull sot
Who made the law, obey it !
"NEW COMEDY. " Menandeb.
[The greatest name in the "New Comedy," except Philemon; the chief model of Terence and in part of Plautus. Born b. c. 342, died 291. ]
A Pure Heart the Best Ceremonial.
Ifyour complaints were serious, 'twould be well You sought a serious cure : but for weak minds Weak medicines may suffice. — Go, call around you The women with their purifying water ;
Drug it with salt and lentils, and then take
A treble sprinkling from the holy mess ;
Now search your heart : if that reproach you not, Then, and then only, you are truly pure.
An Early Death Escape from Evil.
The lot of all most fortunate is his,
Who having stayed just long enough on earth
To feast his sight with this fair face of nature,
Sun, sea, and clouds, and Heaven's bright starry fires, Drops without pain into an early grave.
For what is life, the longest life of man,
I will not
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But the same scene repeated o'er and o'er ?
A few more lingering days to be consumed
In throngs and crowds, with sharpers, knaves, and thieves ; From such the speediest riddance is the best.
The Bane of Envy.
Thou seemst to me, young man, not to perceive That everything contains within itself
The seeds and sources of its own corruption ; The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel ; The moth frets out your garment, and the worm Eats its slow way into the solid oak ;
But Envy, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and forever,
Eats and consumes the heart in which it lurks.
Of all bad things with which mankind are curst, Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.
You say not always wisely, Know Thyself: Know others, ofttimes is the better maxim.
The Folly of Avarice.
Weak is the vanity that boasts of riches,
For they are fleeting things : were they not such, Could they be yours to all succeeding time,
'Twere wise to let none share in the possession.
But if whate'er you have is held of fortune,
And not of right inherent, — why, my father,
Why with such niggard jealousy engross
What the next hour may ravish from your grasp,
And cast into some worthless favorite's lap ?
Snatch, then, the swift occasion while 'tis yours |
Put this unstable boon to noble uses ;
Foster the wants of men, impart your wealth,
And purchase friends : 'twill be more lasting treasure, And when misfortune comes, your best resource.
Riches No Exemption from Care.
Ne'er trust me, Phanias, but I thought till now That you rich fellows had the knack of sleeping A good sound nap, that held you for the night, And not like us poor rogues, who toss and turn, Sighing, Ah, me ! and grumbling at our duns :
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 319
But now I find, in spite of all your money, You rest no better than your needy neighbors, And sorrow is the common lot of all.
Man's Miseries Self-Caused.
All creatures are more blest in their condition, And in their natures worthier than man.
Look at your ass ! — a sorry beast, you'll say, And such in truth he is — poor, hapless thing ! Yet these his sufferings spring not from himself, For all that Nature gave him he enjoys.
Whilst we, besides our necessary ills,
Make ourselves sorrows of our own begetting :
If a man sneeze, we're sad — for that's ill-luck;
If he traduce us, we run mad with rage ;
A dream, a vapor, throws us into terrors,
And let the night owl hoot we melt with fear ; Anxieties, opinions, laws, ambition,
All these are torments we may thank ourselves for.
Dust Thou Art.
When thou wouldst know thereof, what man thou art, Look at the tombstones as thou passest by ;
Within those monuments lie bones and dust
Of monarchs, tyrants, sages, men whose pride
Rose high because of wealth, or noble blood,
Or haughty soul, or loveliness of limb ;
Yet none of these things strove for them 'gainst Time : One common death hath ta'en all mortal men.
See thou to this, and know thee who thou art.
Being a man, ask not release from pain,
But ask the gods for strength to bear thy pain : If thou wouldst fain escape all woe for aye, Thou must become a god, or else a corpse.
Philemon.
[The second in rank of the poets of the " New Comedy. " Began to exhibit about b. c. 330, and lived to be over one hundred, writing plays for nearly seventy years. ]
The Honest Man.
All are not just because they do no wrong; But he who will not wrong me when he may, He is the truly just. I praise not them
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Who in their petty dealings pilfer not ;
But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud When he might plunder and defy surprise — His be the praise, who looking down with scorn On the false judgment of the partial herd, Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares To be, not to be thought, an honest man.
Truth.
Now by the gods, it is not in the power
Of painting or of sculpture to express
Aught so divine as the fair form of Truth ! The creatures of their art may catch the eye, But her sweet nature captivates the soul.
The CItief Good in a Turbulent Age.
Philosophers consume much time and pains To seek the Sovereign Good, nor is there one
Who yet hath struck upon it : Virtue some
And Prudence some contend for, whilst the knot Grows harder by their struggle to untie it.
I, a mere clown, in turning up the soil
Have dug the secret forth — all-gracious Jove ! 'Tis Peace, most lovely and of all beloved :
Peace is the bounteous goddess who bestows Weddings and holidays and joyous sports, Relations, friends, health, plenty, social comforts, And pleasures which alone make life a blessing.
Misfortune Comes to AU.
'Tis not on them alone who tempt the sea
That the storm breaks : it whelms e'en us, 0 Laches, Whether we pass the open colonnade,
Or to the inmost shelter of our house
Shrink from its rage. The sailor for a day,
A night perhaps, is bandied up and down,
And then anon reposes, when the wind
Veers for the wished-for point, and wafts him home : But I know no repose ; not one day only,
But every day to the last hour of life
Deeper and deeper I am plunged in woe.
If what we have we use not, and still covet What we have not, we are cajoled by Fortune Of present bliss, of future by ourselves.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 321
Two words of nonsense are two words too much ; Whole volumes of good sense will never tire. What multitudes of lines hath Homer wrote ! Who ever thought he wrote one line too much ?
Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, And he's the wisest man who bears them best
Diphilus.
[Contemporary of Menander and Philemon. ]
From off the farm comes once in every year A cheery ass, to me who love his cheer ; Like hamper burst at once in all its twigs, Bearing libations, oil, meal, honey, figs.
Time, 0 my guest, is a wright who works a curse : He joys in transformations for the worse.
There is no life but evil happenings seize, — Griefs, cares, and robberies, torments and disease ; Death in physician's guise cuts short their number, Filling the victim's closing scene with slumber.
To Bacchus.
0 friend to the wise, to the children of song
Take me with thee, thou wisest and sweetest, along ;
To the humble, the lowly, proud thoughts dost thou bring, For the wretch who has thee is as blithe as a king ;
From the brows of the sage, in thy humorous play,
Thou dost smooth every furrow and wrinkle away ;
To the weak thou giv'st strength, to the mendicant gold, And a slave warmed by thee as a lion is bold.
Suspicious Circumstances.
Wee have in Corinth this good Law in use : If wee see any person keepe great cheere, Wee make inquirie, whether he doe worke, Or if he have Revenues coming in !
If either, then we say no more of him.
But if the Charge exceed his Gaine or Rents, He is forbidden to run on his course ;
If he continue he pays fine
If he want where withal, he at last
Taken by sergeants and in prison cast.
vol. iv. —21
is
;
it,
a
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
For to spend much, and never to get aught,
Is cause of much disorder in the world.
One in the nighttime filcheth from the flocks ; Another breaks a house or else a shop ;
A third man gets a share his mouth to stop. To beare a part in this good fellowship,
One feignes a suit his neighbor to molest, Another must false witness beare with him ; But such a crue we utterly detest,
And banish from our citie like the pest.
Philippides.
[Flourished about b. c. 320-300. ]
When you have erred, be glad that you are blamed Thus only is a balanced mind preserved.
It is not hard for those in weakly plight To tell the lusty ones, " Don't misbehave ! " And 'tis no task to blame the fighting fist, But to fight personally is not so easy : Talking is one thing, acting is another.
Desert a Beggar Born.
It grieves me much to see the world so changed, And men of worth, ingenious and well born, Reduced to poverty, while cunning knaves,
The very scum of the people, eat their fish, Bought for two oboli, on plates of silver, Weighing at least a mina ; a few capers,
Not worth three pieces of brass money, served In lordly silver dish, that weighs at least
As much as fifteen drachmas. In times past A little cup presented to the gods
Was thought a splendid offering : but such gifts Are now but seldom seen ; and reason good, — For 'tis no sooner on the altar placed
Than rogues are watching to purloin it thence.
Apollodorus (Caktstius).
[Flourished about b. c 300-260. ]
Make fast your door with bars of iron quite : No architect can build a door so tight
But cat and paramour will get through in spite.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 328
Each one by his deeds should be Illustrious, with humility.
A peaceful life is sweet ; it would be blest And honored, if as peaceful were the rest : But living wild with monkeys one must be A monkey. Oh, the life of misery !
When I was young, I pitied those untimely reft in their bloom ; But now when I see the aged borne along to the tomb,
I weep indeed — but for my fate, not for theirs, is the gloom.
A One-Sided Retort.
I do not scorn, Philinus, old men's ways,
Which may be yours when age has come to you,
But yet our fathers are at disadvantage
In this — Unless your sire does something for you, You rate him, " Haven't you been young yourself ? " But father cannot say in turn to son
When erring — " Haven't you been old yourself ? "
There is a certain hospitable air
In a friend's home that tells me I am welcome;
The porter opens to me with a smile,
The yard dog wags his tail, the servant runs, — Beats up the cushion, spreads the couch, and says
" Sit down, good sir ! " ere I can say I'm weary.
Euphrok.
[Dates unknown. ]
Tell me, all-judging Jove, if this be fair,— To make so short a life so full of care ?
Who by his own profession is distrest,
How should he manage well the public chest ?
Wretch ! find new gods to witness to new lies : Thy perjuries have made the old too wise !
Phcenicides.
[Flourished about b. c. 272. ] A Courtesan and Her Keepers.
So help me Venus ! as I'm fairly sick — Sick to the soul, my Pythias, of this trade —
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No more on't ! I'll be no man's mistress, I ;
Don't talk to me of Destiny — I've done with't ;
I'll hear no prophecies, for mark me well : —
No sooner did I buckle to this business,
Than straight behold a man of war assailed me : He told me of his battles o'er and o'er, — Showed me good stock of scars, but none of cash No, not a doit ; but still he vapored much
Of what a certain prince would do, and talked
Of this and that commission — in the clouds :
By which he gulled me of a twelvemonth's hope, Lived at free cost, and fed me upon love.
At length I sent my man of valor packing,
And a grave son of Physic filled his place :
My house now seemed a hospital of lazars,
And the vile beggar mangled without mercy,
A very hangman bathed in human gore.
My soldier was a prince compared to this,
For his were merry fibs : this son of death Turned everything he touched into a corpse. When Fortune, who had yet good store of spite, Now coupled me to a most learned philosopher; Plenty of beard he had, a cloak withal,
Enough to spare of each, and more maxims, More than I could digest, but money — none ; His sect abhorred it ; 'twas a thing proscribed By his philosophy, an evil root,
And when I asked him for a taste, 'twas poison; Still I demanded and for the reason — That he so slightly prized all in vain
could not wring drachma from his clutches, — Defend me, Heaven, from all philosophers
Posidippus. [Began to exhibit in 289. ]
Our talent gains us much acquaintanceship, Our soul and manners nearly all our friends.
Strato.
[Uncertain probably contemporary of the above. ]
The Learned Servant.
I've harbored he-sphinx and not cook
For, by the gods, he talked to me in riddles, And coined new words that pose me to interpret.
; a
a ;
!
I
a
it,
it ;
FEAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No sooner had he entered on his office, — Than, eyeing me from head to foot, he cries
" How many mortals hast thou bid to supper ? " Mortals ! quoth I — what tell you me of mortals ? Let Jove decide on their mortality ;
You're crazy, sure : none by that name are bidden. " No table usher, no one to"officiate
As master of the courses ? — No such person ; Moschion and Niceratus and Philinus,
These are my guests and friends, and amongst these
You'll find no table-decker, as
" Gods ! is it possible ? " cried he : Most certain,
I patiently replied. He swelled and huffed,
As forsooth, had done him heinous wrong,
And robbed him of his proper dignity
Ridiculous conceit — " What offering mak'st thou To Erysichthon " he demanded None.
" Shall not the wide-horned ox be felled " " cries he
sacrifice no ox. — "Nor yet a wether
Not by Jove simple sheep, perhaps.
" And what's wether but a sheep " cries he.
I'm plain man, my friend, and therefore speak Plain language " What speak as Homer does And sure cook may use like privilege,
And more than blind poet. " — Not with me:
I'll have no kitchen Homers in my house
So pray discharge yourself. — This said, we parted.
Bato.
[Flourished about b. c. 217. ]
man, you've erred in life 'twould be
Being
A miracle to succeed perpetually.
The Scholar.
Good, good, Sibynna! Ours no art for sluggards to acquire,
Nor should the hour of deepest midnight see Us and our volumes parted still our lamp Upon its oil feeding, and the page
Of ancient lore before us — What, what hath The Sicyonian deduced what school points Have we from him of Chios Sagest Actides
—
And Zopyrinus, what are their traditions
Thus grapple we with mighty tomes of wisdom, Sifting and weighing and digesting all.
Itake it.
?
?
:
? :
;
:I
is
a : a:a ? I !
is
a
a
!
I
aI, if,
: ?
? ? ;
;
:
326 THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
[FLerondas (or Hebodab) flourished probably about b. c. 250. ]
(The first three translated by J. A. Symonds : the comments and abstracts by him also. )
The Go-between.
Scene : A Private House, where Meteioha, a young wife, in the absence of her husband, Mandris, on the sea, is seated alone within reach of a female slave, Thbessa. Gvllis comes to pay a visit.
Metricha — Thressa, some one is knocking at the house door. Won't you run to see whether a visitor has arrived from the country ?
Thressa — Who knocks ?
Gyllis — It's me.
Thressa — Who are you ? Are you afraid to come near ? Gyllis — Well, then, see, I have come up.
Thressa — Who are you, say ?
Q-yllis — Gyllis, the mother of Philaenion.
inside there that I'm here.
Metricha — Invite her in. Who is she ?
Thressa — Gyllis.
Metricha — Grandam Gyllis! [To the slave. ] Turn your
back a minute, girl. [To Gyllis. ] Which of the Fates has coaxed you into coming, Gyllis, to our house ? What brings you here like a deity to mortals ? I verily believe it must be five months or near it since you, Gyllis, even in a dream, so help me Fate, were seen by any one approaching this door.
Gyllis — I live a long way off, child, and in the lanes the mud is up to one's knees ; besides, I have no more strength than a fly. Old age is dragging us down, and the shadow stands anear and waits.
Metricha — Tut, tut ! Don't calumniate time in that way ! You're strong enough yet, Gyllis, to throttle your neighbors.
Gyllis — Jeer on ! That's the way with you young women. Metricha — Pray don't take fire at what I said.
Gyllis — Well, then, my girl, how long do you mean to go on like a widow, in loneliness, wearing out your solitary bed ?
Tell Metricha
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
327
From the day when Mandris set sail for Egypt, ten moons have come and gone, and he does not send you so much as a letter. Truly, he has forgotten, and has drunken at fresh fountains. There, ah, there is the palace of the goddess ! For everything, I tell you, that is found upon this earth, or can be found, grows in abundance there in Egypt : riches, gymnasia, power and might, fair sunny skies, glory, splendid shows, philoso phers, gold, blooming youths, the temple gardens of twin gods, a king of the best, a museum, wine, all the good things one's heart can wish for, women in bevies — I swear by Hades, the heavens above boast not so many stars —lovely, too, as were the goddesses what time they came to Paris for the prize of beauty (may they not hear me saying this But you, poor thing, what your sort of spirit that you sit and warm that chair Will you let old age overtake you unawares, and ashes consume your youth Take another course for two or three days change your mind in jocund mirth set up with some new friend The ship that rides at one anchor not safely
moored. No mortal knows the future. Life uncertain ever. Metricha — What are you talking about
Gyllis — Is there any one near who can overhear us Metricha — None that know of.
Gyllis — Listen, then, to what have come to tell you after all this time Gryllus, the son of Matakine, Pataecius's wife, the fellow who has conquered in five conquests — as boy at the Pythian games, twice at Corinth with youths in bloom, twice at Olympia with full-grown pugilists — he owns pretty fortune, too, without having to stir finger, and as regards the Queen of Love, he seal unbroken. The man I'm talking of saw you at the Descent of Misa fell desperately in love his bowels burned for you and now he will not leave my dwelling night or day, my girl, but makes lament to me, and wheedles, and ready to die of his love-longing. Nay, come, child, Metricha, grant me this one peccadillo. Adjust yourself
to the goddess else will old age, who looks toward you, take you unawares. By doing this you'll get paid twice.
Like a plucked Siren, has the voice and look
Of woman, but below the waist her limbs Withered and shrunk up to the blackbird's size. These wretched women, one and all, partake
The natures of the Theban Sphinx. They speak In doubtful and ambiguous phrase, pretend
To love you truly, and with artless hearts,
Then whisper in your ear some little want —
A girl to wait on them, forsooth, a bed,
Or easy-chair, a brazen tripod too —
Give what you will, they never are content ;
And to sum up their character at once,
No beast that haunts the forest for his prey
Is half so mischievous.
Abistophon.
[In this period, bat exact dates uncertain. ] Marriage.
A man may marry once without a crime ; But curst is he who weds a second time.
Love.
Love, the disturber of the peace of heaven, And grand tormenter of Olympian feuds,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Was banished from the synod of the gods : They drove him down to earth at the expense Of us poor mortals, and curtailed his wings To spoil his soaring and secure themselves From his annoyance — selfish, hard decree ! For ever since, he roams the unquiet world, The tyrant and despoiler of mankind.
Pythagoras.
I've heard this arrogant impostor tell, Amongst the wonders which he saw in hell, That Pluto with his scholars sat and fed, Singling them out from the inferior dead ; Good faith ! the monarch was not overnice Thus to take up with beggary and lice.
Pythagoras' Disciples.
So gaunt they seem, that famine never made Of lank Philippides so mere a shade :
Of salted tunny-fish their scanty dole,
Their beverage, like the frogs, a standing pool, With now and then a cabbage, at the best
The leavings of the caterpillar's feast ;
No comb approaches their disheveled hair,
To rout the long established myriads there ;
On the bare ground their bed, nor do they know A warmer coverlet than serves the crow.
Flames the meridian sun without a cloud ? They bark like grasshoppers and chirp as loud ; With oil they never even feast their eyes ;
The luxury of stockings they despise,
But, barefoot as the crane, still march along
All night in chorus with the screech-owl's song.
Epicrates.
[An Epirote. Flourished b. c. 376-348. ] Burlesque of the Platonic Ideas.
A. I pbat you, sir, — for I perceive you learned In these grave matters, — let my ignorance suck Some profit from your courtesy, and tell me — What are your wise philosophers engaged in.
Your Plato, Menedemus, and Speusippus ?
What mighty mysteries have they in projection ? What new discoveries may the world expect From their profound researches ?
I conjure you,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
By Earth, our common mother, to impart them ! B. Sir, you shall know at our great festival,
I was myself their hearer, and so much
As I there heard will presently disclose,
So you will give it ears, for I must speak
Of things perchance surpassing your belief,
So strange they will appear ; but so it happened, That these most sage academicians sate
In solemn consultation — on a cabbage.
A. A cabbage ! what did they discover there ?
B. Oh, sir ! your cabbage hath its sex and gender,
Its provinces, prerogatives, and ranks,
And, nicely handled, breeds as many questions
As it does maggots. All the younger fry
Stood dumb with expectation and respect,
Wond'ring what this same cabbage should bring forth ; The lecturer eyed them round, whereat a youth
Took heart, and breaking first the awful silence, Humbly craved leave to think — that it was round ! The cause was now at issue, and a second
Opined it was an herb — a third conceived
With due submission it might be a plant —
The difference methought was such that each
Might keep his own opinion and be right ;
But soon a bolder voice broke up the council,
And, stepping forward, a Sicilian quack
Told them their question was abuse of time, —
It was a cabbage, neither more nor less,
And they were fools to prate so much about it. Insolent wretch ! amazement seized the troop,
Clamor and wrath and tumult raged amain,
Till Plato, trembling for his own philosophy,
And calmly praying patience of the court,
Took up the cabbage, and adjourned the cause.
Alexis.
[About b. c. 390-288 ; In his prime about Alexander's period, say 330. He the model for Menander. ]
How the Procuress doctors her Wares.
They fly at all, and as their funds increase,
With fresh recruits they still augment their stock, Molding the young novitiate to her trade :
Form, feature, manners, everything so changed That not a trace of former self is left.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo.
[Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected fiom a fine collection of these docu ments in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached hears the date 1644.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo. (Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected from a fine collection of these documents in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of
the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached bears the
date 1644.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 311
Is the wench short ? a triple sole of cork
Exalts the pigmy to a proper size.
Is she too tall of stature ? a low chair
Softens the fault, and a fine easy stoop
Lowers her to a standard pitch. If narrow-hipped, A handsome wadding readily supplies
What nature stints, and all beholders cry,
"See what plump haunches ! " Hath the nymph perchance A high round paunch, stuffed like our comic drolls,
And strutting out foreright ? a good stout busk,
Pushing athwart, shall force the intruder back.
Hath she red brows ? a little soot will cure 'em.
Is she too black ? the ceruse makes her fair ;
Too pale of hue ? the opal comes in aid.
Hath she a beauty out of sight ? disclose it !
Strip nature bare without a blush. — Fine teeth ?
Let her affect one everlasting grin,
Laugh without stint — but ah ! if laugh she cannot,
And her lips won't obey, take a fine twig
Of myrtle, shape it like a butcher's skewer,
And prop them open. Set her on the bit
Day after day, when out of sight, till use
Grows second nature, and the pearly rows,
Will she or will she not, perforce appear.
Love.
The man who holds true pleasure to consist In pampering his vile body, and defies
Love's great divinity, rashly maintains
Weak impious war with an immortal god.
The gravest master that the schools can boast Ne'er trained his pupils to such discipline,
As love his votaries — unrivaled power,
The first great deity ; and where is he
So stubborn and determinedly stiff
But shall at some time bend the knee to love,
And make obeisance to his mighty shrine ? One day, as slowly sauntering from the port,
A thousand cares conflicting in my breast, Thus I began to commune with myself :
" Methinks these painters misapply their art, And never know the being which they draw ; For mark their many false conceits of love. Love is not male nor female, man nor god, Nor with intelligence nor yet without
it,
812
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But a strange compound of all these uniting In one mixed essence many opposites ;
A manly courage with a woman's fear,
The madman's frenzy in a reasoning mind, The strength of steel, the fury of a beast, The ambition of a hero — something 'tis,
I swear,
I know not what this nameless something is. "
But by Minerva and the gods !
Gluttony.
You, sir, a Cyrenean, as I take you,
Look at your sect of mad voluptuaries ;
There's Diodorus — begging is too good for him — A vast inheritance in two short years,
Where is it ? Squandered, vanished, gone forever : So rapid was his dissipation. — Stop !
Stop, my good friend, you cry : not quite so fast ! This man went fair and softly to his ruin :
What talk you of two years ? As many days,
Two little days were long enough to finish
Young Epicharides ; he had some soul,
And drove a merry pace to his undoing —
Marry ! if a kind surfeit would surprise us,
Ere we sit down to earn such prevention
Would come most opportune to save the trouble
Of sick stomach and an aching head
But whilst the punishment out of sight,
And the full chalice at our lips we drink,
Drink all to-day, to-morrow fast and mourn,
Sick, and all o'er opprest with nauseous fumes Such the drunkard's curse, and Hell itself Cannot devise a greater — oh, that nature Might quit us of this overbearing burden,
This tyrant god, the belly take that from us With all its bestial appetites, and man, Exonerated man, shall be all soul. "
The only free gift that the gods gave man, — Sleep, that prepares our souls for endless night.
Amphis.
[Alive in b. o. 332; no other date known. ]
Drink and play, for life fleeting short our time beneath the sky;
But for death, he's everlasting when we once have come to die.
;
is
!
it, is
is
;
a
:
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 313
DiODORtrs.
[Of Sinope. Exhibited in 354. ]
This is my rule, and to my rule I'll hold, — To choose my wife by merit, not by gold ; For on that one election must depend Whether I wed a fury or a friend.
When your foe dies, let all resentment cease :
Make peace with death, and death shall give you peace.
Dionysius.
[ Of Sinope. About the same time as Nicostratus. ] The Cook.
The true professor of the art should strive To gratify the taste of every guest ;
For if he merely furnishes the table,
Sees all the dishes properly disposed,
And thinks, having done this, he has discharged His office, he's mistaken, and deserves
To be considered only as a drudge,
A kitchen drudge, without an art or skill,
And differs widely from a cook indeed, A master of his trade.
He bears the name Of general, 'tis true, who heads the army : But he whose comprehensive mind surveys
The whole, who knows to turn each circumstance Of time, and place, and action to advantage, — Foresees what difficulties may occur,
And how to conquer them, — this is the man Who should be called the general ; the other The mere conductor of the troops, no more.
So in our art it is an easy thing
To boil, to roast, to stew, to fricassee,
To blow the bellows or to stir the fire ;
But a professor of the art regards
The time, the place, the inviter, and the guest ; And when the market is well stored with fish, Knows to select, and to prefer such only
As are in proper season, and in short,
Omits no knowledge that may justly lead
To the perfection of his art. 'Tis true, Archestratus has written on the subject,
And is allowed by many to have left
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Most choice receipts, and curious inventions Useful and pleasing; yet in many things He was profoundly ignorant, and speaks Upon report, without substantial proof
Or knowledge of his own. We must not trust, Nor give our faith to loose conjectures thus For in our art we only can depend
On actual practice and experiment.
Having no fixed and settled laws by which
We may be governed, we must frame our own, As time and opportunity may serve,
Which if we do not well improve, the art Itself must suffer by our negligence.
Heniochus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ] The Demon Gfuests.
These are towns of every sort, Which have been crazy now since long ago.
Some one may interrupt and ask me why
They are here before us :
The place in which we meet's the agora
Of Olympia ; and fancy to yourselves
The scene is set as for a theater.
Well then, what are these cities doing here ?
They came here once to sacrifice to freedom
When they were nearly freed from forced exactions : After that sacrifice their recklessness
Destroyed them, entertaining stranger guests
Day after day upon the multiple throne ;
Namely, two women that have stirred them up, Always twin lived : Democracy the name
Of one is, Aristocracy the other ;
Through whom they've acted since most drunkenly !
Mnesimaohus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ]
The Fireeaters.
Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend ? I'll tell thee With gladiators, not with peaceful guests ;
Instead of knives we're armed with naked swords,
And swallow firebrands in the place of food ;
Daggers of Crete are served us for confections,
I will let him know.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 315
And for a plate of pease a fricassee
Of shattered spears ; the cushions we repose on Are shields and breastplates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreathed With military ensigns, not with myrtle.
Timocles.
[About b. o. 350-320. Said to have revived the energy of political comedy. ] Demosthenes.
Bid me say anything in preference ;
But on this theme, Demosthenes himself
Shall sooner check the torrent of his speech
Than I — Demosthenes ! That angry orator,
That bold Briareus, whose tremendous throat, Charged to the teeth with battering rams and spears Beats down opposers ; brief in speech was he,
But, crossed in argument, his threatening eyes Flashed fire, whilst thunder volleyed from his lips.
The Ungrateful Mistress.
Wretch that I am, She had my love when a mere caper-gatherer,
And fortune's smiles as yet were wanting to her.
I never pinched nor spared in my expenses,
Yet now — doors closely barred are the recompense That waits on former bounties ill bestowed.
The Lessons of Tragedy.
Nay, my good friend, but hear me ! I confess
Man is the child of sorrow, and this world,
In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague us ; But it hath means withal to sooth these cares,
And he who meditates on others' woes
Shall in that meditation lose his own.
Call then the tragic poet to your aid,
Hear him, and take instructions from the stage.
Let Telephus appear : behold a prince,
A spectacle of poverty and pain,
Wretched in both. — And what if you are poor ?
Are you a demigod ? are you the son
Of Hercules ? begone ! Complain no more.
Doth your mind struggle with distracting thoughts ?
»
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Do your wits wander ? are you mad ? Alas ! So was Alcmaeon, whilst the world adored His father as their god. Your eyes are dim : What then ? the eyes of CEdipus were dark, Totally dark. You mourn a son ; he's dead : Turn to the tale of Niobe for comfort,
And match your love with hers. You're lame of foot Compare it with the foot of Philoctetes,
And make no more complaint. But you are old,
Old and unfortunate : consult Oeneus ;
Hear what a king endured, and learn content. Sum up your miseries, number up your sighs, The tragic stage shall give you tear for tear, And wash out all afflictions but its own.
Xenabchus. [Contemporary of Timocles. ] Tricks of the Trade.
Poets indeed ! — I should be glad to know
Of what they have to boast. Invention — no !
They invent nothing, but they pilfer much,
Change and invert the order, and pretend
To pass it off for new. But fishmongers
Are fertile in resources, they excel
All our philosophers in ready wit
And sterling impudence. The law forbids,
And strictly, too, to water their stale fish —
How do they manage to evade the fine ?
Why thus : when one of them perceives the board Begins to be offensive, and the fish
Look dry and change their color, he begins
A pre-concerted quarrel with his neighbor.
They come to blows : he soon affects to be
Most desperately beaten, and falls down,
As if unable to support himself,
Gasping for breath ; another, who the while (Knowing the secret) was prepared to act,
Seizes a jar of water, aptly placed,
And scatters a few drops of water on his friend, Then empties the whole vessel on the fish,
Which makes them look so fresh you want to swear They were just taken from the sea.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 317
Ah, faithless women ! when you swear, I register your oaths in air.
Theophilus.
[Dates uncertain. ]
If love be folly, as the schools would prove, The man must lose his wits who falls in love : Deny him love, you doom the wretch to death, And then it follows he must lose his breath. Good sooth ! there is a young and dainty maid I dearly love, a minstrel she by trade ;
What then ? Must I defer to pedant rule, And own that love transforms me to a fool ? Not I, so help me ! By the gods I swear, The nymph I love is fairest of the fair, Wise, witty, dearer to her poet's sight
Than piles of money on an author's night ! Must I not love her, then ? Let the dull sot
Who made the law, obey it !
"NEW COMEDY. " Menandeb.
[The greatest name in the "New Comedy," except Philemon; the chief model of Terence and in part of Plautus. Born b. c. 342, died 291. ]
A Pure Heart the Best Ceremonial.
Ifyour complaints were serious, 'twould be well You sought a serious cure : but for weak minds Weak medicines may suffice. — Go, call around you The women with their purifying water ;
Drug it with salt and lentils, and then take
A treble sprinkling from the holy mess ;
Now search your heart : if that reproach you not, Then, and then only, you are truly pure.
An Early Death Escape from Evil.
The lot of all most fortunate is his,
Who having stayed just long enough on earth
To feast his sight with this fair face of nature,
Sun, sea, and clouds, and Heaven's bright starry fires, Drops without pain into an early grave.
For what is life, the longest life of man,
I will not
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But the same scene repeated o'er and o'er ?
A few more lingering days to be consumed
In throngs and crowds, with sharpers, knaves, and thieves ; From such the speediest riddance is the best.
The Bane of Envy.
Thou seemst to me, young man, not to perceive That everything contains within itself
The seeds and sources of its own corruption ; The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel ; The moth frets out your garment, and the worm Eats its slow way into the solid oak ;
But Envy, of all evil things the worst,
The same to-day, to-morrow, and forever,
Eats and consumes the heart in which it lurks.
Of all bad things with which mankind are curst, Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.
You say not always wisely, Know Thyself: Know others, ofttimes is the better maxim.
The Folly of Avarice.
Weak is the vanity that boasts of riches,
For they are fleeting things : were they not such, Could they be yours to all succeeding time,
'Twere wise to let none share in the possession.
But if whate'er you have is held of fortune,
And not of right inherent, — why, my father,
Why with such niggard jealousy engross
What the next hour may ravish from your grasp,
And cast into some worthless favorite's lap ?
Snatch, then, the swift occasion while 'tis yours |
Put this unstable boon to noble uses ;
Foster the wants of men, impart your wealth,
And purchase friends : 'twill be more lasting treasure, And when misfortune comes, your best resource.
Riches No Exemption from Care.
Ne'er trust me, Phanias, but I thought till now That you rich fellows had the knack of sleeping A good sound nap, that held you for the night, And not like us poor rogues, who toss and turn, Sighing, Ah, me ! and grumbling at our duns :
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 319
But now I find, in spite of all your money, You rest no better than your needy neighbors, And sorrow is the common lot of all.
Man's Miseries Self-Caused.
All creatures are more blest in their condition, And in their natures worthier than man.
Look at your ass ! — a sorry beast, you'll say, And such in truth he is — poor, hapless thing ! Yet these his sufferings spring not from himself, For all that Nature gave him he enjoys.
Whilst we, besides our necessary ills,
Make ourselves sorrows of our own begetting :
If a man sneeze, we're sad — for that's ill-luck;
If he traduce us, we run mad with rage ;
A dream, a vapor, throws us into terrors,
And let the night owl hoot we melt with fear ; Anxieties, opinions, laws, ambition,
All these are torments we may thank ourselves for.
Dust Thou Art.
When thou wouldst know thereof, what man thou art, Look at the tombstones as thou passest by ;
Within those monuments lie bones and dust
Of monarchs, tyrants, sages, men whose pride
Rose high because of wealth, or noble blood,
Or haughty soul, or loveliness of limb ;
Yet none of these things strove for them 'gainst Time : One common death hath ta'en all mortal men.
See thou to this, and know thee who thou art.
Being a man, ask not release from pain,
But ask the gods for strength to bear thy pain : If thou wouldst fain escape all woe for aye, Thou must become a god, or else a corpse.
Philemon.
[The second in rank of the poets of the " New Comedy. " Began to exhibit about b. c. 330, and lived to be over one hundred, writing plays for nearly seventy years. ]
The Honest Man.
All are not just because they do no wrong; But he who will not wrong me when he may, He is the truly just. I praise not them
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Who in their petty dealings pilfer not ;
But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud When he might plunder and defy surprise — His be the praise, who looking down with scorn On the false judgment of the partial herd, Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares To be, not to be thought, an honest man.
Truth.
Now by the gods, it is not in the power
Of painting or of sculpture to express
Aught so divine as the fair form of Truth ! The creatures of their art may catch the eye, But her sweet nature captivates the soul.
The CItief Good in a Turbulent Age.
Philosophers consume much time and pains To seek the Sovereign Good, nor is there one
Who yet hath struck upon it : Virtue some
And Prudence some contend for, whilst the knot Grows harder by their struggle to untie it.
I, a mere clown, in turning up the soil
Have dug the secret forth — all-gracious Jove ! 'Tis Peace, most lovely and of all beloved :
Peace is the bounteous goddess who bestows Weddings and holidays and joyous sports, Relations, friends, health, plenty, social comforts, And pleasures which alone make life a blessing.
Misfortune Comes to AU.
'Tis not on them alone who tempt the sea
That the storm breaks : it whelms e'en us, 0 Laches, Whether we pass the open colonnade,
Or to the inmost shelter of our house
Shrink from its rage. The sailor for a day,
A night perhaps, is bandied up and down,
And then anon reposes, when the wind
Veers for the wished-for point, and wafts him home : But I know no repose ; not one day only,
But every day to the last hour of life
Deeper and deeper I am plunged in woe.
If what we have we use not, and still covet What we have not, we are cajoled by Fortune Of present bliss, of future by ourselves.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 321
Two words of nonsense are two words too much ; Whole volumes of good sense will never tire. What multitudes of lines hath Homer wrote ! Who ever thought he wrote one line too much ?
Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, And he's the wisest man who bears them best
Diphilus.
[Contemporary of Menander and Philemon. ]
From off the farm comes once in every year A cheery ass, to me who love his cheer ; Like hamper burst at once in all its twigs, Bearing libations, oil, meal, honey, figs.
Time, 0 my guest, is a wright who works a curse : He joys in transformations for the worse.
There is no life but evil happenings seize, — Griefs, cares, and robberies, torments and disease ; Death in physician's guise cuts short their number, Filling the victim's closing scene with slumber.
To Bacchus.
0 friend to the wise, to the children of song
Take me with thee, thou wisest and sweetest, along ;
To the humble, the lowly, proud thoughts dost thou bring, For the wretch who has thee is as blithe as a king ;
From the brows of the sage, in thy humorous play,
Thou dost smooth every furrow and wrinkle away ;
To the weak thou giv'st strength, to the mendicant gold, And a slave warmed by thee as a lion is bold.
Suspicious Circumstances.
Wee have in Corinth this good Law in use : If wee see any person keepe great cheere, Wee make inquirie, whether he doe worke, Or if he have Revenues coming in !
If either, then we say no more of him.
But if the Charge exceed his Gaine or Rents, He is forbidden to run on his course ;
If he continue he pays fine
If he want where withal, he at last
Taken by sergeants and in prison cast.
vol. iv. —21
is
;
it,
a
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
For to spend much, and never to get aught,
Is cause of much disorder in the world.
One in the nighttime filcheth from the flocks ; Another breaks a house or else a shop ;
A third man gets a share his mouth to stop. To beare a part in this good fellowship,
One feignes a suit his neighbor to molest, Another must false witness beare with him ; But such a crue we utterly detest,
And banish from our citie like the pest.
Philippides.
[Flourished about b. c. 320-300. ]
When you have erred, be glad that you are blamed Thus only is a balanced mind preserved.
It is not hard for those in weakly plight To tell the lusty ones, " Don't misbehave ! " And 'tis no task to blame the fighting fist, But to fight personally is not so easy : Talking is one thing, acting is another.
Desert a Beggar Born.
It grieves me much to see the world so changed, And men of worth, ingenious and well born, Reduced to poverty, while cunning knaves,
The very scum of the people, eat their fish, Bought for two oboli, on plates of silver, Weighing at least a mina ; a few capers,
Not worth three pieces of brass money, served In lordly silver dish, that weighs at least
As much as fifteen drachmas. In times past A little cup presented to the gods
Was thought a splendid offering : but such gifts Are now but seldom seen ; and reason good, — For 'tis no sooner on the altar placed
Than rogues are watching to purloin it thence.
Apollodorus (Caktstius).
[Flourished about b. c 300-260. ]
Make fast your door with bars of iron quite : No architect can build a door so tight
But cat and paramour will get through in spite.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 328
Each one by his deeds should be Illustrious, with humility.
A peaceful life is sweet ; it would be blest And honored, if as peaceful were the rest : But living wild with monkeys one must be A monkey. Oh, the life of misery !
When I was young, I pitied those untimely reft in their bloom ; But now when I see the aged borne along to the tomb,
I weep indeed — but for my fate, not for theirs, is the gloom.
A One-Sided Retort.
I do not scorn, Philinus, old men's ways,
Which may be yours when age has come to you,
But yet our fathers are at disadvantage
In this — Unless your sire does something for you, You rate him, " Haven't you been young yourself ? " But father cannot say in turn to son
When erring — " Haven't you been old yourself ? "
There is a certain hospitable air
In a friend's home that tells me I am welcome;
The porter opens to me with a smile,
The yard dog wags his tail, the servant runs, — Beats up the cushion, spreads the couch, and says
" Sit down, good sir ! " ere I can say I'm weary.
Euphrok.
[Dates unknown. ]
Tell me, all-judging Jove, if this be fair,— To make so short a life so full of care ?
Who by his own profession is distrest,
How should he manage well the public chest ?
Wretch ! find new gods to witness to new lies : Thy perjuries have made the old too wise !
Phcenicides.
[Flourished about b. c. 272. ] A Courtesan and Her Keepers.
So help me Venus ! as I'm fairly sick — Sick to the soul, my Pythias, of this trade —
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No more on't ! I'll be no man's mistress, I ;
Don't talk to me of Destiny — I've done with't ;
I'll hear no prophecies, for mark me well : —
No sooner did I buckle to this business,
Than straight behold a man of war assailed me : He told me of his battles o'er and o'er, — Showed me good stock of scars, but none of cash No, not a doit ; but still he vapored much
Of what a certain prince would do, and talked
Of this and that commission — in the clouds :
By which he gulled me of a twelvemonth's hope, Lived at free cost, and fed me upon love.
At length I sent my man of valor packing,
And a grave son of Physic filled his place :
My house now seemed a hospital of lazars,
And the vile beggar mangled without mercy,
A very hangman bathed in human gore.
My soldier was a prince compared to this,
For his were merry fibs : this son of death Turned everything he touched into a corpse. When Fortune, who had yet good store of spite, Now coupled me to a most learned philosopher; Plenty of beard he had, a cloak withal,
Enough to spare of each, and more maxims, More than I could digest, but money — none ; His sect abhorred it ; 'twas a thing proscribed By his philosophy, an evil root,
And when I asked him for a taste, 'twas poison; Still I demanded and for the reason — That he so slightly prized all in vain
could not wring drachma from his clutches, — Defend me, Heaven, from all philosophers
Posidippus. [Began to exhibit in 289. ]
Our talent gains us much acquaintanceship, Our soul and manners nearly all our friends.
Strato.
[Uncertain probably contemporary of the above. ]
The Learned Servant.
I've harbored he-sphinx and not cook
For, by the gods, he talked to me in riddles, And coined new words that pose me to interpret.
; a
a ;
!
I
a
it,
it ;
FEAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
No sooner had he entered on his office, — Than, eyeing me from head to foot, he cries
" How many mortals hast thou bid to supper ? " Mortals ! quoth I — what tell you me of mortals ? Let Jove decide on their mortality ;
You're crazy, sure : none by that name are bidden. " No table usher, no one to"officiate
As master of the courses ? — No such person ; Moschion and Niceratus and Philinus,
These are my guests and friends, and amongst these
You'll find no table-decker, as
" Gods ! is it possible ? " cried he : Most certain,
I patiently replied. He swelled and huffed,
As forsooth, had done him heinous wrong,
And robbed him of his proper dignity
Ridiculous conceit — " What offering mak'st thou To Erysichthon " he demanded None.
" Shall not the wide-horned ox be felled " " cries he
sacrifice no ox. — "Nor yet a wether
Not by Jove simple sheep, perhaps.
" And what's wether but a sheep " cries he.
I'm plain man, my friend, and therefore speak Plain language " What speak as Homer does And sure cook may use like privilege,
And more than blind poet. " — Not with me:
I'll have no kitchen Homers in my house
So pray discharge yourself. — This said, we parted.
Bato.
[Flourished about b. c. 217. ]
man, you've erred in life 'twould be
Being
A miracle to succeed perpetually.
The Scholar.
Good, good, Sibynna! Ours no art for sluggards to acquire,
Nor should the hour of deepest midnight see Us and our volumes parted still our lamp Upon its oil feeding, and the page
Of ancient lore before us — What, what hath The Sicyonian deduced what school points Have we from him of Chios Sagest Actides
—
And Zopyrinus, what are their traditions
Thus grapple we with mighty tomes of wisdom, Sifting and weighing and digesting all.
Itake it.
?
?
:
? :
;
:I
is
a : a:a ? I !
is
a
a
!
I
aI, if,
: ?
? ? ;
;
:
326 THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
[FLerondas (or Hebodab) flourished probably about b. c. 250. ]
(The first three translated by J. A. Symonds : the comments and abstracts by him also. )
The Go-between.
Scene : A Private House, where Meteioha, a young wife, in the absence of her husband, Mandris, on the sea, is seated alone within reach of a female slave, Thbessa. Gvllis comes to pay a visit.
Metricha — Thressa, some one is knocking at the house door. Won't you run to see whether a visitor has arrived from the country ?
Thressa — Who knocks ?
Gyllis — It's me.
Thressa — Who are you ? Are you afraid to come near ? Gyllis — Well, then, see, I have come up.
Thressa — Who are you, say ?
Q-yllis — Gyllis, the mother of Philaenion.
inside there that I'm here.
Metricha — Invite her in. Who is she ?
Thressa — Gyllis.
Metricha — Grandam Gyllis! [To the slave. ] Turn your
back a minute, girl. [To Gyllis. ] Which of the Fates has coaxed you into coming, Gyllis, to our house ? What brings you here like a deity to mortals ? I verily believe it must be five months or near it since you, Gyllis, even in a dream, so help me Fate, were seen by any one approaching this door.
Gyllis — I live a long way off, child, and in the lanes the mud is up to one's knees ; besides, I have no more strength than a fly. Old age is dragging us down, and the shadow stands anear and waits.
Metricha — Tut, tut ! Don't calumniate time in that way ! You're strong enough yet, Gyllis, to throttle your neighbors.
Gyllis — Jeer on ! That's the way with you young women. Metricha — Pray don't take fire at what I said.
Gyllis — Well, then, my girl, how long do you mean to go on like a widow, in loneliness, wearing out your solitary bed ?
Tell Metricha
THE MIMES OF HERONDAS.
327
From the day when Mandris set sail for Egypt, ten moons have come and gone, and he does not send you so much as a letter. Truly, he has forgotten, and has drunken at fresh fountains. There, ah, there is the palace of the goddess ! For everything, I tell you, that is found upon this earth, or can be found, grows in abundance there in Egypt : riches, gymnasia, power and might, fair sunny skies, glory, splendid shows, philoso phers, gold, blooming youths, the temple gardens of twin gods, a king of the best, a museum, wine, all the good things one's heart can wish for, women in bevies — I swear by Hades, the heavens above boast not so many stars —lovely, too, as were the goddesses what time they came to Paris for the prize of beauty (may they not hear me saying this But you, poor thing, what your sort of spirit that you sit and warm that chair Will you let old age overtake you unawares, and ashes consume your youth Take another course for two or three days change your mind in jocund mirth set up with some new friend The ship that rides at one anchor not safely
moored. No mortal knows the future. Life uncertain ever. Metricha — What are you talking about
Gyllis — Is there any one near who can overhear us Metricha — None that know of.
Gyllis — Listen, then, to what have come to tell you after all this time Gryllus, the son of Matakine, Pataecius's wife, the fellow who has conquered in five conquests — as boy at the Pythian games, twice at Corinth with youths in bloom, twice at Olympia with full-grown pugilists — he owns pretty fortune, too, without having to stir finger, and as regards the Queen of Love, he seal unbroken. The man I'm talking of saw you at the Descent of Misa fell desperately in love his bowels burned for you and now he will not leave my dwelling night or day, my girl, but makes lament to me, and wheedles, and ready to die of his love-longing. Nay, come, child, Metricha, grant me this one peccadillo. Adjust yourself
to the goddess else will old age, who looks toward you, take you unawares. By doing this you'll get paid twice.
