Deipnosophistae
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
2.1
Œneus pour'd the juice divine
2.1
In hollow cups, and called it wine.
2.1
'Twas Œneus, master, gave his name to wine.
2.1
And then you will be succour'd (ὀνήσεαι) if you drink.
2.2
No better remedies than wine there are,
2.2
O king, to drive away soul-eating care.
2.2
O Bacchus, to all wise men dear,
2.2
How very kind you do appear;
2.2
You make the lowly-hearted proud,
2.2
And bid the gloomy laugh aloud;
2.2
You fill the feeble man with daring,
2.2
And cowards strut and bray past bearing.
2.2
Good store of wine which makes men talk.
2.2
Laughter and wisdom and prudence and learning.
2.2
Youth of indomitable might,
2.2
With head of bull; the loveliest wight
2.2
Who ever rank'd as Love's esquire,
2.2
Filling men with strength and fire.
2.2
Great was the blessing, when the gods did show
2.2
Sweet wine to those who how to use it know;
2.2
But where bad men its righteous use pervert,
2.2
To such, I trow, it will be rather hurt.
2.2
For to the first it nourishment supplies,
2.2
Strengthens their bodies, and their minds makes wise;
2.2
A wholesome physic 'tis when mix'd with potions,
2.2
Heals wounds as well as plasters or cold lotions.
2.2
Wine to our daily feasts brings cheerful laughter,
2.2
When mix'd with proper quantities of water;
2.2
Men saucy get if one-third wine they quaff;
2.2
While downright madness flows from half-and-half;
2.2
And neat wine mind and body too destroys;
2.2
While moderation wise secures our joys.
2.2
And well the oracle takes this position,
2.2
That Bacchus is all people's best physician.
2.3
Let them three parts of wine all duly season
2.3
With nine of water, who'd preserve their reason;
2.3
The first gives health, the second sweet desires,
2.3
The third tranquillity and sleep inspires.
2.3
These are the wholesome draughts which wise men please,
2.3
Who from the banquet home return in peace.
2.3
From a fourth measure insolence proceeds;
2.3
Uproar a fifth, a sixth wild licence breeds;
2.3
A seventh brings black eyes and livid bruises,
2.3
The eighth the constable next introduces;
2.3
Black gall and hatred lurk the ninth beneath,
2.3
The tenth is madness, arms, and fearful death;
2.3
For too much wine pour'd in one little vessel,
2.3
Trips up all those who seek with it to wrestle.
2.3
A. Sacrifices feasts produce,
2.3
Drinking then from feasts proceeds.
2.3
B. Such rotation has its use.
2.3
A. Then the drinking riot breeds;
2.3
Then on riot and confusion
2.3
Follow law and prosecution;
2.3
Law brings sentence; sentence chains;
2.3
Chains bring wounds and ulcerous pains.
2.3
O'er the first glass the Graces three preside,
2.3
And with the smiling Hours the palm divide;
2.3
Next Bacchus, parent of the sacred vine,
2.3
And Venus, loveliest daughter of the brine,
2.3
Smile on the second cup, which cheers the heart,
2.3
And bids the drinker home in peace depart.
2.3
But the third cup is waste and sad excess,
2.3
Parent of wrongs, denier of redress;
2.3
Oh, who can tell what evils may befall
2.3
When Strife and Insult rage throughout the hall?
2.3
Content thee, then, my friend, with glasses twain;
2.3
Then to your home and tender wife again;
2.3
While your companions, with unaching heads,
2.3
By your example taught, will seek their beds.
2.3
But riot will be bred by too much wine,
2.3
A mournful ending for a feast divine;
2.3
While, then, you live, your thirst in bounds confine.
2.3
For Insolence and Ruin follow it.
2.3
Drinking is sire of blows and violence.
2.4
Man's nature doth in much resemble wine:
2.4
For young men and new wine do both need age
2.4
To ripen their too warm unseason'd strength,
2.4
And let their violence evaporate.
2.4
But when the grosser portions are worked off,
2.4
And all the froth is skilsm'd, then both are good';
2.4
The wine is drinkable, the man is wise,
2.4
And both in future pleasant while they last.
2.4
Wine is like fire when 'tis to man applied,
2.4
Or like the storm that sweeps the Libyan tide;
2.4
The furious wind the lowest depths can reach,
2.4
And wine robs man of knowledge, sense, and speech.
2.4
A. Man in no one respect resembles wine:
2.4
For man by age is made intolerable;
2.4
But age improves all wine.
2.4
B. Yes; for old wines cheer us,
2.4
But old men only snarl, abuse, and jeer us.
2.4
Wine is like fire, an aid and sweet relief,
2.4
Wards off all ills, and comforts every grief;
2.4
Wine can of every feast the joys enhance,
2.4
It kindles soft desire, it leads the dance.
2.4
Think not then, childlike, much of solid food,
2.4
But stick to wine, the only real good.
2.4
Good wine's the gift which God has given
2.4
To man alone beneath the heaven;
2.4
Of dance and song the genial sire,
2.4
Of friendship gay and soft desire;
2.4
Yet rule it with a tighten'd rein,
2.4
Nor moderate wisdom's rules disdain;
2.4
For when uncheck'd there's nought runs faster,—
2.4
A useful slave, but cruel master.
2.6
Wine and truth;We find something like this in Theoc. xxix. 1. οἶνος, ὦ φίλε παῖ, λέγεται καὶ ἀλάθεα.
2.6
Wine lays bare the heart of man.
2.6
They pour'd the water in a three-legg'd bowl,
2.6
Which always has its place upon the fire:
2.6
And seven fireless tripods.
2.6
A. That load of wine makes you a chatterer.
2.6
B. That's why they say that drunken men speak truth.
2.6
There are only two secrets a man cannot keep,
2.6
One when he's in love, t' other when he's drunk deep:
2.6
For these facts are so proved by his tongue or his eyes,
2.6
That we see it more plainly the more he denies.
2.7
Wine sometimes than honey sweeter,
2.7
Sometimes more than nettles bitter.
2.7
Fierce bulls, their passion with their horns displaying.
2.8
Nectar I eat, and well do gnaw it;
2.8
Ambrosia drink, (you never saw it);
2.8
I act as cupbearer to Jove,
2.8
And chat to Juno—not of love;
2.8
And oftentimes I sit by Venus,
2.8
With marplot none to come between us.
2.8
Nectar they eat at will.
2.8
The goblets rich were with ambrosia crown'd,
2.8
Which Hermes bore to all the gods around.
2.9
One fond of wine must be an honest man;
2.9
For Bacchus, for his double mother famed,
2.9
Loves not bad men, nor uninstructed clowns,
2.9
If with water you fill up your glasses,
2.9
You'll never write anything wise
2.9
But wine is the horse of Parnassus,
2.9
That carries a bard to the skies.
2.9
And this was Cratinus's thought,
2.9
Who was ne'er with one bottle content,
2.9
But stuck to his cups as he ought,
2.9
And to Bacchus his heart and voice lent.
2.9
His house all with garlands did shine,
2.9
And with ivy he circled his brow,
2.9
To show he nought worshipp'd but wine,
2.9
As, if he still lived, he'd do now.
2.9
Where are the empty boasts which Lemnos heard
2.9
When season'd dishes press'd the ample board,
2.9
When the rich goblets overflow'd with wine?
2.10
Sweet force, from wine proceeding,
2.10
Now warms my soul with love,
2.10
And on my spirit leading,
2.10
With hopes my heart does move.
2.10
It drives dull care away,
2.10
And laughs at walls and towers;
2.10
And bids us think and say,
2.10
That all the world is ours.
2.10
The man who drinks plenty of wine,
2.10
Will never for wealth be wishing;
2.10
For his cellar's a ceaseless mine,
2.10
And an undisturb'd heart he is rich in.
2.10
Drinking is a cure for woe.
2.10
Fruit of the field, which makes the heart to leap.
2.10
Let generous food supplies of strength produce,
2.10
Let rising spirits flow from sprightly juice,
2.10
Let their warm heads with scenes of battle glow,Iliad, xvii. 180.
2.11
Gave men the wine which every grief dispels;
2.11
Where wine is not, there Venus never dwells,
2.11
Nor any other thing which men hold dear.
2.11
Gave men the vine which cures all mortal grief,
2.11
Parent of genial wine.
2.11
I'm not beside myself with drink; nor have I so much taken
2.11
As not to be quite understood by those to whom I'm speaking.
2.12
Those who with humble gifts approach the gods,
2.12
May often holier be, than those who load
2.12
The groaning altars with whole hecatombs;
2.12
God holds no sacrifice in more esteem,
2.12
Than hearts where pious joy and pleasure beam.Odyss. ix. 6.
2.12
Those who with fair prosperity are bless'd,
2.12
Should always keep themselves before the world;
2.12
Glad to display the bounty of the gods.
2.12
For they, the givers of all good, deserve
2.12
A holy gratitude; and they will have it.
2.12
But if, when they their gifts have shower'd, they see
2.12
The objects of their bounty live like churls,
2.12
Useless to all around them; who can wonder
2.12
If they recall what seems so ill bestow'd?
2.13
'Tis sweet, at a banquet or festival meeting,
2.13
To chat o'er one's wine, when the guests have done eating,
2.13
Four fountains flow'd with clearest water white;Odyss. v. 70.
2.13
Beauteous it flows, to wash all dirt away.
2.13
Near the sweet waters then our ships we stay'd.Ib. xii. 360.
2.14
Next by Scamander's double source they bound,
2.14
Where two famed fountains burst the parted ground;
2.14
This warm, through scorching clefts is seen to rise,
2.14
With exhalations steaming to the skies.Iliad, xxii. 149.
2.14
That, the green banks in summer's heat o'erflows,
2.14
Like crystal clear, and cold as winter's snows.
2.14
With his warm blood still welling from the wound.Ib. xi. 266.
2.14
While his warm blood and mighty limbs were strong.Iliad, xi. 477.
2.15
A ceaseless spring of clear untroubled flow.
2.15
Ambrosial water, like fresh honey sweet,
2.15
Which from Tilphossa's lovely fountains flows;
2.18
A. Have you remark'd, my friend,
2.18
That none can with this favour'd land contend
2.18
In honey, loaves, and figs?
2.18
B. Aye, figs indeed!
2.18
A. In myrtles, perfumes, wools, in choicest breed
2.18
Of cattle, and in cheese; and on what ground
2.18
Can fountains like the Attic springs be found?
2.18
But when we pass'd the folds, and cross'd the water,
2.18
The river's lucid body, all our troops
2.18
In the pure crystal bathed their weary limbs,
2.19
But wine obscures and clouds the mind;"
2.20
There is, I take it, often sense in wine,
2.20
And those are stupid who on water dine.
2.20
Take the hair, it well is written,
2.20
Of the dog by whom you're bitten.
2.20
Work off one wine by his brother,
2.20
And one labour with another;
2.20
Horns with horns, and noise with noise,
2.20
One crier with his fellow's voice
2.20
Insult with insult, war with war,
2.20
Faction with faction, care with care;
2.20
Cook with cook, and strife with strife,
2.20
Business with business, wife with wife.
2.20
Pour unmix'd water ὕδωρ ἄκρατον in the cup.
2.22
A change of meat is often good,
2.22
And men, when tired of common food,
2.22
Redoubled pleasure often feel,
2.22
When sitting at a novel meal.
2.24
His nose he anoints, and thinks it plain
2.24
'Tis good for health with scents to feed the brain
2.27
For you are not the first who's come to supper
2.27
After a lengthened fast,
2.27
I'm glad when those who set them up as wise,
2.27
Are naked seen and hungry.
2.27
A. At all events he's one complaint,
2.27
For he is hungry ever.
2.27
B. The keen Thessalian race you paint,
2.27
Who can be sated never.
2.27
Then Zethus was advised to seek the plain,
2.27
The holy plain of Thebes; for there men sell
2.27
The cheapest loaves and cakes.
2.27
Again advice came to the great Amphion,
2.27
The sweet musician, pointing out to him
2.27
The famous Athens for his resting-place,
2.27
Whose sons at hunger ne'er repine, but feed
2.27
On air and sweetest hopes.
2.28
When you meet with a man who takes only one meal,
2.28
Or a poet who music pretends not to feel;
2.28
The man half his life, the bard half his art, loses;
2.28
And sound reason to call either living refuses.
2.28
These νωγαλεύματα are very nice.
2.28
In Thasian feasts his friends he meets,
2.28
And νωγαλίζει, sweetmeats eats.
2.28
Grapes, and pomegranates, and palms,
2.28
And other νώγαλα.
2.28
There is a youth most delicately curl'd,
2.28
Whom I do feed by force beneath the earth.
2.28
By whom the breakfast-dinner is prepared.
2.29
I bring you, since you are but three,
2.29
To a room with equal couches.
2.29
One room had seven couches fine,
2.29
While another boasted nine.
2.29
A. Place now a couch for seven.
2.29
B. Here it is.
2.29
A. And five Sicilian couches.
2.29
B. Well, what next
2.29
A. And five Sicilian pillows.
2.29
Will you not place a couch for three?
2.29
A couch was spread,
2.29
And songs to please the aged man.
2.29
Open the supper rooms, and sweep the house,
2.29
And spread the couches fair, and light the fire;
2.29
Bring forth the cups, and fill with generous wine.
2.30
There the well-dress'd guests recline
2.30
On couches rich with ivory feet;
2.30
And on their purple cushions dine,
2.30
Which rich Sardinian carpets meet.
2.30
Fair Venus's isle did bring forth Helicon,
2.30
Whose wondrous work you now do gaze upon;
2.30
And fair Minerva's teaching bade his name
2.30
And wondrous skill survive in deathless fame.
2.30
Place me where rose-strewn couches fill the room,
2.30
That I may steep myself in rich perfume.
2.30
Oh you who press your mistress to your arms,
2.30
All night upon sweet-scented couches lying.
2.32
Fair girls await you, and a table
2.32
Of highly polish'd dappled maple.
2.32
The τρίπους was removed, we wash'd our hands.
2.32
A. Here are five τρίποδες for you; here five more.
2.32
B. Why I shall be quinquagenarian.
2.32
A. And what is this?
2.32
B. A τρίπους.
2.32
A. How is that?
2.32
Has it not four feet? 'tis a τετράπους.
2.32
B. It may be strictly; but its name is τριπους.
2.32
A. Still I can see four feet.
2.32
B. At all events
2.32
You are no Œdipus, to be so puzzled.
2.32
A. Bring me one τράπεζα more,
2.32
With three feet, not one with four.
2.32
B. Where can I a τρίπους τράπεζα find?
2.33
I have a garland of damascenes and mint.
2.33
A. And in my sleep I thought I saw a prize.
2.33
B. What was it?
2.33
A. Listen.—There came up to me,
2.33
While still within th' arena's spacious bounds,
2.33
One of my rivals, bringing me a crown-
2.33
A ripe revolving crown of damascenes.
2.33
B. Oh Hercules! and were the damascenes ripe?
2.33
Did you e'er see a sausage toasted,
2.33
Or dish of tripe well stuff'd and roasted?
2.33
Or damascenes stew'd in rich confection—
2.33
Such was that gentleman's complexion.
2.33
The fruit they call a plum, the cuckoo's prize.
2.33
Heavy with plums, the branches swept the ground.
2.33
Far as the apple doth the plum surpass.
2.35
And planted by no hand, the arbutus
2.35
Makes red the sunny hills.
2.35
The myrtle berries and red arbutus.
2.35
Beauteous the breast of tender maid,
2.35
As arbutus or apples red.
2.35
Mulberries you see, my friend, are found
2.35
On the tree which we know as the mulberry;
2.35
So the oak bears the acorn round,
2.35
And the arbutus shines with its full berry.
2.36
His heart was softer than a mulberry.
2.36
As the full branch to earth is Weigh'd
2.36
With mulberries, white and black and red.
2.36
First you shall see the full white ear of corn,
2.36
And then the large round rosy mulberry.
2.36
The mulberry-tree, in which the young delight,
2.36
Brown autumn's harbinger.
2.38
We eat roast nuts, that is, almonds.
2.38
Eggs, nuts, almonds.
2.38
(κάρυαι,) nut-trees and ash-trees.
2.38
Beeches, nut-trees, Carystian nuts.
2.39
He knock'd out all my grinders, so that now
2.39
A Naxian almond I can hardly crack.
2.39
Give me some Naxian almonds to regale me,
2.39
And from the Naxian vines some wine to drink.
2.39
You, like an ass, come to the husks of the dessert;
2.39
Beech-trees, the ornament of Pan.
2.39
Sweetmeats, myrtle-berries, cheese-cakes, almonds,
2.40
The lovely flower of the rose-tree (ῥοδῆς).
2.40
You'll ruin me, I swear it by the almond.
2.40
A. Come, now, take these almonds,
2.40
And break them
2.40
(B. I would rather break your head,) with a stone.
2.40
The almond is a good cure for a cough.
2.43
It is easily peel'd, and the Eubœans
2.43
Call it a nut, but some people have call'd it an acorn,
2.44
They took a green vetch,
2.44
And toss'd it empty, as if playing cottabus.
2.44
These are the sweetmeats of the wretched monkey.
2.44
Black beans spring up, or vetches.
2.44
These are what one should talk of near the fire,
2.44
In winter season, on soft couch reclined,
2.44
After a plenteous meal, drinking rich wine,
2.44
And eating vetches.Liddell and Scott quote Arist. Pac. 1136, to show that ἐρέβινθοι were eaten roasted like chestnuts, and sometimes raw, for dessert. Then a man may ask,
2.44
"Who are you? How old are you, my friend?
2.44
How many years old were you when the Mede came"
2.44
Golden vetches on the sea-shore grew.
2.44
This maiden's sire is far the greatest man,
2.44
A regular κρεῖος vetch.
2.44
My husband is a poor old man, and I
2.44
Am an old woman, and I have a daughter
2.44
And a young son,
2.44
And this good girl besides—we're five in all—
2.44
And three of them are now at supper,
2.44
And we two who here remain share with them
2.44
A little maize; and when we have nothing
2.44
To eat, we utter a wail unsuited to the lyre.
2.44
And as we never have any meat for dinner,
2.44
Our countenance is become pale. These are the parts,
2.44
And this is the arrangement of our life:
2.44
Beans, lupins, cabbages, rape,
2.44
Pulse, morepulse, mastnuts, onions.
2.44
Grasshoppers, vetches, wild pears,
2.44
And that which was given by my mother
2.44
As an object of devout care, the fig,
2.44
The great invention of the Phrygian fig.
2.44
You must at once take care and make the vetches tender.
2.44
He was choked eating roasted vetches.
2.45
A curse upon the man;
2.45
Let him not come near me, who eats lupins in season,
2.45
And then leaves the husks and shells in the vestibules
2.45
Why was he not choked while eating them I know,
2.45
I know most certainly, that Cleænetus the tragedian
2.45
Did not eat them. For Cleænetus
2.45
Never threw away the husk of a single vegetable,
2.45
So exceedingly economical is that man.
2.45
The lupin, common to all the people, in great plenty
2.45
Danced upon the board, the companion of poor couches.
2.45
There is no business more mischievous or degrading
2.45
Than that of the pander.
2.45
I would rather walk along the streets selling
2.45
Roses, and radishes, and lupin-beans, and press'd olives,
2.45
And anything else in the world, rather than give encouragement
2.45
To such a miserable trade.
2.46
Roast some kidney beans quickly, for Bacchus is fond of them.
2.46
A fig, or kidney bean, or some such thing.
2.47
Cuttle-fish, and olives fallen from the tree.
2.47
Bring some crushed olives;
2.47
Crush'd olives and pickled olives are not the same thing;
2.47
For it is better that they should be crush'd than pickled.
2.47
Let wrinkled olives, fallen from the tree,
2.47
Be placed before you.
2.47
Be sure that for the future you remember
2.47
The ever-glorious Marathon for good,
2.47
When you do all from time to time add μάραθον (that is to say, fennel) to your pickled olives.
2.47
γεργέριμος and πίτυρις, and the white olive, which does not
2.47
Become ripe till autumn, which is to float in wine.
2.47
He urged me to remain, and eat with him
2.47
Some δρυπετεῖς, and some maize, and have a chat with him.
2.48
ταῖς ῥαφανῖσι δοκεῖ, it is like radishes, but not like other vegetables;
2.48
ʽῥαφανίδες ἄπλυτοι, unwashed radishes and cuttle-fish.
2.48
To eat ducks, and honeycombs of wild bees, and eggs,
2.48
And cheese-cakes, and unwash'd radishes,
2.48
And rape, and oatmeal-groats, and honey.
2.48
There one may have the unwash'd radish, and the warm
2.48
Bath, and closely stewed pickles, and nuts.
2.48
And then the chorus used to dance,
2.48
Clad in worsted-work and fine clothes;
2.48
And bearing under their arms ribs of beef,
2.48
And sausages, and radishes.
2.48
Whoever, when purchasing food,
2.48
When it is in his power, O Apollo, to buy genuine fish,
2.48
Prefers buying radishes, is downright mad!
2.50
They say that formerly Leda found an egg.
2.50
Far whiter than an egg:
2.50
The eggs of geese and other poultry.
2.50
Like the egg of a Mæandrian goose;
2.50
And little casks of good wine made of palms,
2.50
And eggs, and all other trifles of that kind.
2.50
And they slew the two young Molions, youths alike in face,
2.50
Borne on white horses; of the same age; and
2.50
Alike, too, in all their limbs, for both were born
2.50
On one day, from one single silver egg.
2.50
Cakes made of sesame and honey, sweetmeats,
2.50
Cheese-cakes, and cream-cakes, and a hecatomb
2.50
Of new-laid eggs, were all devour'd by us.
2.50
For when my father had left me a very little property,
2.50
I scraped it so, and got the kernel out of it
2.50
In a few months, as if I had been a boy sucking an egg.
2.50
Just see how white and how large these eggs are;
2.50
These must be goose eggs, as far as I can see.
2.52
Nor do men know how great may be the good
2.52
Derived from asphodel and mallow food.
2.52
Eating the root of mallow (μολόχης).
2.52
I am milder than the mallow (μολόχης).
2.53
What a huge head he has; it is as big as a gourd!
2.53
Will you have a little maize (μάζιον) or gourd (κολοκύντιον)?
2.53
That is much more wholesome than a gourd (κολοκύντη).
2.54
A. What now is Plato doing'?
2.54
The grave Speusippus too and Menedemus?
2.54
In what are they now spending all their time?
2.54
What care is theirs, and what their conversation?
2.54
What is their subject of deliberation?
2.54
Tell me, I beg of you, by the mighty Terra,
2.54
In learned language, if at least you know.
2.54
B. Indeed, I can inform you most exactly.
2.54
For at the great Panathenaic feast,
2.54
I saw a company of youths assembled
2.54
Within the schools of the old Academy,
2.54
And heard some strange and marvellous assertions.
2.54
For they were nature's mysteries discussing,
2.54
Drawing distinctions subtle 'tween the life
2.54
Of animated things, both men and beasts,
2.54
And that of trees and all the race of herbs.
2.54
And then, while occupied in these discussions
2.54
They turned to gourds their deep investigations,
2.54
Asking their species and their character.
2.54
A. And to what sage conclusion did they come?
2.54
What was their definition, of what genus
2.54
Did they decide this plant to be, my friend?
2.54
I pray you tell 'em, if you know at least.
2.54
B. At first they all stood silent for a while,
2.54
And gazed upon the ground and knit their brows
2.54
In profound solemn meditation:
2.54
Then on a sudden, while the assembled youths
2.54
Were stooping still considering the matter,
2.54
One said a gourd was a round vegetable;
2.54
But others said it was a kind of grass;
2.54
While others class'd it as a sort of tree.
2.54
On hearing this, a certain old physician
2.54
Coming from Sicily interrupted them
2.54
As but a pack of triflers. They were furious,
2.54
Greatly enraged, and all most loudly cried
2.54
With one accord, that he insulted them;
2.54
For that such sudden interruptions
2.54
To philosophical discussion
2.54
Were ill-bred and extremely unbecoming.
2.54
And then the youths thought no more of the gourd.
2.54
But Plato, who was present, mildly said,
2.54
Not being at all excited by what pass'd,
2.54
That the best thing that they could do would be
2.54
The question to resume of the gourd's nature.
2.54
They would not hear him, and adjourn'd the meeting.
2.55
I came without perceiving it on a place
2.55
Which was exceedingly convenient.
2.55
Water was given me; and then a servant
2.55
Entered, and bore a table for my use;
2.55
On which was laid, not cheese, or tawny olives,
2.55
Or any dainty side-dishes and nonsense,
2.55
Which fill the room with scent, but have no substance;
2.55
But there was set before me a huge dish
2.55
Redolent of the Seasons and the joyful Hours—
2.55
A sort of hemisphere of the whole globe.
2.55
Everything there was beautiful and good:
2.55
Fish, goats' flesh, and a scorpion between them;
2.55
Then there were eggs in half, looking like stars.
2.55
On them we quickly laid our hands, and then
2.55
Speaking to me, and giving me a nod,
2.55
The host began to follow our example;
2.55
So we'd a race, and never did I stop
2.55
Till the whole dish was empty as a sieve.
2.56
The stony soil produced no mushrooms.
2.56
Each of us twice a day received to eat
2.56
Some small dark maize well winnow'd from the chaff,
2.56
And carefully ground; and also some small figs.
2.56
Meantime some of the party would begin
2.56
And roast some mushrooms; and perhaps would catch
2.56
Some delicate snails if 'twas a dewy morning,
2.56
And vegetables which spontaneous grew.
2.56
Then, too, we'd pounded olives; also wine
2.56
Of no great strength, and no very famous vintage.
2.56
Our supper is but maize well fenced round
2.56
With chaff, so as not to o'erstep the bounds
2.56
Of well-devised economy. An onion,
2.56
A few side-dishes, and a sow-thistle,
2.56
A mushroom, or what wild and tasteless roots
2.56
The place affords us in our poverty.
2.56
Such is our life, not much exposed to fevers
2.56
For no one, when there's meat, will eat of thyme,
2.56
Not even the pupils of Pythagoras.
2.56
For which of us can know the future, or
2.56
The fate that shall our various friends befall
2.56
Take now these mushrooms and for dinner roast them,
2.56
Which I've just picked beneath the maple shade.
2.56
For I, if I eat any of your dishes,
2.56
Seem as if I was on raw mushrooms feeding,
2.56
Or unripe apples, fit to choke a man.
2.57
You will be choked, like those who waste away
2.57
By eating mushrooms, very heating food.
2.57
Terrible evils oftentimes arise
2.57
From eating olives, or pomegranates, or from the trees
2.57
Of maple, or of oak; but worst of all
2.57
Are the swelling sticky lumps of mushrooms.
2.57
Bury a fig-tree trunk deep in the ground,
2.57
Then cover it with dung, and moisten it
2.57
With water from an ever flowing brook,
2.57
Then there will grow at bottom harmless mushrooms;
2.57
Select of them what's good for food, and not
2.57
Deserving of contempt, and cut the root off.
2.57
And there, too, you may roast the mushrooms,
2.57
Of the kind which we call ἀμάνιται.
2.57
That I may choke you as a mushroom would.
2.57
O Sun, whose path is through th' undying heaven,
2.57
Have you e'er before seen a misery such as this?
2.57
A mother, a maiden daughter, and two sons,
2.57
All dying on one day by pitiless fate?
2.58
And around were soft meadows of sium or parsley;
2.60
And he brought oysters, the truffles of Thetis the Nereid.
2.62
And then seeing the aspharagus in a thicket.
2.62
No squills, no aspharagus, no branches of bay-tree.
2.62
Then it puts forth a stalk, and never ceases
2.62
The germnination;
2.62
The asparagus was shining; the pale vetches had faded.
2.63
I am not a grasshopper, nor a snail, O woman.
2.63
Sprats, tunny fish, and snails, and periwinkles.
2.63
The hero that carries his house on his back.
2.63
You are e'en more distrustful than a snail;
2.63
Who fears to leave even his house behind him.
2.63
Can such a vapour strange produce
2.63
The snails, those horned monsters?
2.63
What is that spineless bloodless beast of the woods,
2.63
Who makes his path amid the humid waters.
2.63
Instead of all these animals, they have locusts;
2.63
But I hate above all things the shell of the sesilus.
2.64
Whether it's hot, or whether it is dry,
2.64
Or whether it is something 'tween the two,
2.64
Are points of more importance than old Troy.
2.64
But I have not come here to fill myself
2.64
With cabbages, or benjamin, or other
2.64
Impious and bitter danties, or with onions.
2.64
But that which tends the most to vigorous strength
2.64
And health is food which I delight in chiefly.
2.64
Meat of beef, boil'd and fresh, and plenty of it,
2.64
And a large well-filled dish of oxen's feet,
2.64
Three roasting pigs besides, sprinkled with salt.
2.64
Pinnas, beetles, snails, muscles, eggs, calves'-feet,
2.64
And many other philters, may be found
2.64
More useful still to one who loves his mistress.
2.64
A house is ruined which has a master
2.64
Whose fortune's gone, and whom the evil genius
2.64
Has struck. And so the once great house of the Pelops
2.64
Is weak and nerveless. Nor can earth-born onion,
2.64
Fair Ceres' handmaid, who contracts the neck,
2.64
Even when boiled, assist to check this evil.
2.64
Nor e'en the polypus, who swells the veins,
2.64
Born in dark eddies of the deepest sea,
2.64
When taken in the net of stern necessity
2.64
By hungry mortals, fill the broad deep bosom
2.64
Of the large dish turn'd by the potter's wheel.
2.64
I love not onions, nor yet cabbages,
2.64
Nor the sweet barberry-tree, nor all the other
2.64
Dainties and sweetmeats of the second course.
2.65
The onion will do you no good if you have no strength yourself.
2.66
But sowthistles I will not even name,
2.66
Plants full of'marrow, crown'd on th' heads with thorns;
2.66
Nor the white onions, minstrels of great Jove,
2.66
Which his dear Child, incessant rain, has nourish'd
2.66
Whiter than snow storms, and like meal to view,
2.66
Which, when they first appeared, my stomach loved.
2.67
Now if you want an onion, just consider
2.67
What great expense it takes to make it good:
2.67
You must have cheese, and honey, and sesame,
2.67
Oil, leeks, and vinegar, and assafœtida,
2.67
To dress it up with; for by itself the onion
2.67
Is bitter and unpleasant to the taste.
2.68
But the Syracusans call thrushes, not κίχλαι, but κίχηλαι.
2.68
The thrushes (κίχηλαι) fond of eating the olive.
2.69
And herons were there with their long bending necks,
2.69
And grouse who pick up seed, and beautiful sycallilles.
2.70
When 'twas the Amphidromian festival,
2.70
When 'tis the custom to toast bits of cheese
2.70
O' the Chersonesus; and to boil a cabbage,
2.70
Bedewed with shining oil; and eke to bake
2.70
The breasts of fat and well-fed lambs; to pluck
2.70
The feathers from the thrushes, doves and finches;
2.70
And also to eat cuttle-fish with anchovies,
2.70
And baskets of rich polypus to collect,
2.70
And to drink many cups of unmixed wine.
2.71
A. What then shall I buy? Tell me, I pray you.
2.71
B. Go not to more expense than a neat table;
2.71
Buy a rough-footed hare; some ducklings too,
2.71
As many as you like; thrushes, and blackbirds,
2.71
And other small birds; there are many wild sorts.
2.71
A. Yes, and they're very nice.
2.72
And from his hair he forces the white marrow,
2.72
His head being burst asunder in the middle,
2.72
And the blood flows:
2.72
Unhappy child, how miserably have
2.72
Your native city's walls produced your death,
2.72
And dash'd your head in pieces! Fatal towers,
2.72
Which Phæbus builded! How did your mother oft
2.72
Cherish those curly locks, and press upon them
2.72
With never-wearied kisses! now the blood
2.72
Wells from that wound, where the bones broken gape;
2.72
But some things are too horrid to be spoken.
2.72
He never ceased devouring even the brains (ἐγκέφαλον).
2.72
I would be content
2.72
To lose two membranes of the ἐγκέφαλον.
2.72
Come now, and I will nod my head to you.
2.73
If any one buys pepper and brings it home,
2.73
They torture him by law like any spy.
2.73
Now is the time for a man to go and find pepper,
2.73
And seed of orach, and fruit, and buy it, and bring it here.
2.73
Just take some Cnidian grains, or else some pepper,
2.73
And pound them up with myrrh, and strew around.
2.73
Pepper from Libya take, and frankincense,
2.73
And Plato's heaven-inspired book of wisdom.
2.73
Take the conyza's woolly leaves and stalks,
2.73
And often cut new pepper up, and add
2.73
Cardamums fresh from Media.
2.74
This man you see will be a measurer
2.74
Of that most white of oils, the Samian oil.
2.74
The man anointed was with Carian oil.
2.74
Oil from the Thurians comes; from Gela lentils.
2.75
Your basket will be full of briny pickle.
2.75
His beard was all besmear'd with pickle juice.
2.75
Eating this briny season'd pickle.
2.75
These men will choke me, steeping me in putrid pickle.
2.76
Sprinkling it o'er with Sphettian vinegar.
2.76
A. He first takes off his coat, and then he sups,
2.76
After what fashion think you?
2.76
B. Why, like a Spartan.
2.76
A. A measure then of vinegar . . . .
2.76
B. Bah!
2.76
A. Why bah
2.76
B. A measure holds but such and such a quantity
2.76
Of the best Cleonæan vinegar.
2.76
Their seasonings have not vinegar sufficient.
2.76
You have compell'd me to bring forth from thence
2.76
Four half-pint measures full of vinegar
2.76
From Decelea, and now drag me through
2.76
The middle of the forum.
2.77
And seasoning for food.
2.77
You are steeping the seasonings.
2.77
I like a cook will cleverly season . . . .
2.77
It is not every one who can season skilfully.
2.77
Very bad vinegar seasoned in an expensive way.
2.77
Dried grapes, and salt, and eke new wine
2.77
Newly boiled down, and assafætida,
2.77
And cheese, and thyme, and sesame,
2.77
And nitre too, and cummin seed,
2.77
And sumach, honey, and marjoram,
2.77
And herbs, and vinegar and oil
2.77
And sauce of onions, mustard and capers mix d,
2.77
And parsley, capers too, and eggs,
2.77
And lime, and cardamums, and th' acid juice
2.77
Which comes from the green fig-tree, besides lard
2.77
And eggs and honey and flour wrapp'd in fig-leaves,
2.77
And all compounded in one savoury forcemeat.
2.77
Cutting asparagus and squills and marjoram, (ὃς)
2.77
Which gives the pickle an aristocratic taste,
2.77
When duly mixed (μιχθεὶς) with coriander seed.
2.77
But in a hurried manner in his hand
2.77
He hides the marjoram (τὸν ὀρίγανον).
2.77
She from Arcadia brought
2.77
The harshly-tasted (τὴν δριμυτάτην) marjoram.
2.78
Tell me, O wisest son of old Laertes,
2.78
Have you e'er seen a friend of yours in Paros
2.78
Buy a large cucumber that's run to seed?
2.78
Do you not see
2.78
That Meleager, son of mighty Glaucon,
2.78
. . . . Goes about every where like a stupid cuckoo,
2.78
With legs like the seedless πέπων cucumber?
2.78
His ankles swell'd
2.78
Larger than e'en a πέπων cucumber.
2.78
She was to me
2.78
More tender than a πέπων cucumber.
2.79
A lettuce (θρῖδαξ) with its stalk peel'd all the way up.
2.79
The leek-destroying grubs, which go
2.79
Throughout the leafy gardens
2.79
On fifty feet, and leave their trace,
2.79
Gnawing all herbs and vegetables;
2.79
Leading the dances of the long-tailed satyrs
2.79
Amid the petals of the verdant herbs,
2.79
And of the juicy lettuces (θριδακινίδες),
2.79
And of the fragrant parsley.
2.80
Curse upon all these lettuces (θριδάκιναι)!
2.80
For if a man not threescore years should eat them,
2.80
And then betake himself to see his mistress,
2.80
He'll toss the whole night through, and won't be equal
2.80
To her expectations or his own.
2.80
Do not put lettuces before me, wife,
2.80
Upon the table; or the blame is yours.
2.80
For once upon a time, as goes the tale,
2.80
Venus conceal'd the sadly slain Adonis;
2.80
Beneath the shade of this same vegetable;
2.80
So that it is the food of dead men, or of those
2.80
Who scarcely are superior to the dead.
2.82
The artichoke fills every field with its thorn.
2.83
A fawn about to die would make a noise,
2.83
Fearing the venom of the thorny cactus.
2.85
And at the same time cutting off the branches
2.85
Loaded with dates they bring away the brain,
2.85
A dainty greatly fancied by the young.
2.86
It is a troublesome thing to fall in with
2.86
An entire party of none but relations;
2.86
Where as soon as he has taken his cup in his hand
2.86
The father first begins the discourse,
2.86
And stammers out his recommendations:
2.86
Then after him the mother, in the second place;
2.86
And then some old aunt gossips and chatters;
2.86
And then some harsh-voiced old man,
2.86
The father of the aunt aforesaid; then too
2.86
Another old woman calls him her darling:
2.86
And he nods assent to all that is said.
2.87
Before the shade they wear a purple cloth,
2.87
And then this comes after the purple;
2.87
Being itself neither white nor purple,
2.87
But a ray of the brilliancy of the woof as it were
2.87
Of divers colours curiously blended.
2.87
Prepare then
2.87
A fanner to cool me, a dish, a tripod, a cup,
2.87
An ewer, a mortar, a pot, and a spoon.
2.88
Danaus, the noble sire of fifty daughters,
2.88
Leaving the Nile, the fairest stream on earth,
2.88
Fill'd by the summer of the Aethiop land,
2.88
The negro's home, when the deep snow does melt,
2.88
And o'er the land the Sun his chariot drives.
2.88
These are the beauticous virgin streams of Nile,
2.88
Which in the place of rain bedew the plain
2.88
Of Egypt when the white snow melts on th' hills.
2.88
I know its history, and love to praise
2.88
The race of the Aethiop land, where mighty Nile
2.88
Rolls down his seven streams the country through,
2.88
When the spring winds bring down the heavy waters;
2.88
What time the sun shining along that land
2.88
Dissolves the mountain snow; and the whole land
2.88
Of flourishing Egypt, fill'd with th' holy stream,
2.88
Sends forth the vital ears of corn of Ceres.