Deipnosophistae
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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
6.1
In every way, my friends, is Tragedy
6.1
A happy poem. For the argument
6.1
Is, in the first place, known to the spectators,
6.1
Before one single actor says a word.
6.1
So that the poet need do little more
6.1
Than just remind his hearers what they know.
6.1
For should I speak of Œdipus, at once
6.1
They recollect his story—how his father
6.1
Was Laius, and Jocasta too his mother;
6.1
What were his sons', and what his daughters' names,
6.1
And what he did and suffer'd. So again
6.1
If a man names Alcmæon, the very children
6.1
Can tell you how he in his madness slew
6.1
His mother; and Adrastus furious,
6.1
Will come in haste, and then depart again;
6.1
And then at last, when they can say no more,
6.1
And when the subject is almost exhausted,
6.1
They lift an engine easily as a finger,
6.1
And that is quite enough to please the theatre.
6.1
But our case is harder. We are forced
6.1
T' invent the whole of what we write; new names,
6.1
Things done before, done now, new plots, new openings,
6.1
And new catastrophes. And if we fail in aught,
6.1
Some Chremes or some Phido hisses us.
6.1
While Peleus is constrain'd by no such laws,
6.1
Nor Teucer.
6.1
O thou who rulest, patroness and queen,
6.1
Over this holy spot of sacred Brauron,
6.1
Bow-bearing daughter of Latona and Jove,
6.1
As the tragedians call you; who alone
6.1
Have power to do and say whate'er they please.
6.2
My friend, just hear what I'm about to say.
6.2
Man is an animal by nature miserable;
6.2
And life has many grievous things in it.
6.2
Therefore he has invented these reliefs
6.2
To ease his cares; for oft the mind forgets
6.2
Its own discomforts while it soothes itself
6.2
In contemplation of another's woes,
6.2
And e'en derives some pleasure and instruction.
6.2
For first, I'd have you notice the tragedians;
6.2
What good they do to every one. The poor man
6.2
Sees Telephus was poorer still than he,
6.2
And bears his own distress more easily.
6.2
The madman thinks upon Alcmæon's case.
6.2
Has a man weak sore eyes? The sons of Phineus
6.2
Are blind as bats. Has a man lost his child
6.2
Let him remember childless Niobe.
6.2
He's hurt his leg; and so had Philoctetes.
6.2
Is he unfortunate in his old age?
6.2
Œneus was more so. So that every one,
6.2
Seeing that others have been more unfortunate,
6.2
Learns his own griefs to bear with more content.
6.3
My master has received (ἀπέλαβεν) as he took (ἔλαβεν)
6.3
His patrimonial inheritance.
6.3
How would these words have pleased Demosthenes!
6.3
A. Receive this thing.
6.3
B. What is it
6.3
A. Why the child
6.3
Which I had from you, which I now bring back.
6.3
B. Why? will you no more keep him?
6.3
A. He's not mine.
6.3
B. Nor mine.
6.3
A. But you it was who gave him me.
6.3
B. I gave him not.
6.3
A. How so?
6.3
B. I but restored him.
6.3
A. You gave me what I never need have taken.
6.3
A. For did I give them anything? Tell me that.
6.3
B. No, you restored it, holding a deposit.
6.3
. . . . Give it not,
6.3
Only restore it.
6.3
B. Here I now have brought it.
6.3
A. You bid me now to speak of everything
6.3
Rather than what is to the purpose; well,
6.3
I'll gratify you so far.
6.3
B. You shall find
6.3
As the first fruits that you have pacified
6.3
The great Demosthenes.
6.3
A. But who is he?
6.3
B. That Briareus who swallows spears and shields;
6.3
A man who hates all quibbles; never uses
6.3
Antithesis nor trope; but from his eyes
6.3
Glares terrible Mars.
6.4
I did indeed for a long time believe
6.4
The Gorgons an invention of the poets,
6.4
But when I came into the fish-market
6.4
I quickly found them a reality.
6.4
For looking at the fish women I felt
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Turn'd instantly to stone, and was compelled
6.4
To turn away my head while talking to them.
6.4
For when I see how high a price they ask,
6.4
And for what little fish, I'm motionless.
6.5
'Tis easier to get access to the general,
6.5
And one is met by language far more courteous,
6.5
And by more civil answer from his grace,
6.5
Than from those cursed fishfags in the market.
6.5
For when one asks them anything, or offers
6.5
To buy aught of them, mute they stand like Telephus,
6.5
And just as stubborn; ('tis an apt comparison,
6.5
For in a word they all are homicides;)
6.5
And neither listen nor appear to heed,
6.5
But shake a dirty polypus in your face;
6.5
Or else turn sulky, and scarce say a word,
6.5
But as if half a syllable were enough,
6.5
Say se'n s'lings this, this turb't eight'n-pence.
6.5
This is the treatment which a man must bear
6.5
Who seeks to buy a dinner in the fish-market.
6.5
When I behold a general looking stern,
6.5
I think him wrong, but do not greatly wonder,
6.5
That one in high command should think himself
6.5
Above the common herd. But when I see
6.5
The fishmongers, of all tribes far the worst,
6.5
Bending their sulky eyes down to the ground,
6.5
And lifting up their eyebrows to their foreheads,
6.5
I am disgusted. And if you should ask,
6.5
Tell me, I pray you, what's this pair of mullets?
6.5
Tenpence. Oh, that's too much; you'll eightpence take
6.5
Yes, if you'll be content with half the pair.
6.5
Come, eightpence; that is plenty. "I will not
6.5
Take half a farthing less: don't waste my time."
6.5
Is it not bitter to endure such insolence?
6.6
I used to think the race of fishmongers
6.6
Was only insolent in Attica;
6.6
But now I see that like wild beasts they are
6.6
Savage by nature, everywhere the same.
6.6
But here is one who goes beyond his fellows,
6.6
Nourishing flowing hair, which he doth call
6.6
Devoted to his god-though that is not the reason,
6.6
But he doth use it as a veil to hide
6.6
The brand which marks his forehead. Should you ask him,
6.6
What is this pike's price? he will tell you tenpence;
6.6
Not say what pence he means; then if you give him
6.6
The money, he will claim Aegina's coinage;
6.6
While if you ask for change, he'll give you Attic.
6.6
And thus he makes a profit on both sides.
6.6
Poets are nonsense; for they never say
6.6
A single thing that's new. But all they do
6.6
Is to clothe old ideas in language new,
6.6
Turning the same things o'er and o'er again,
6.6
And upside down. But as to fishmongers,
6.6
They're an inventive race, and yield to none
6.6
In shameless conduct. For as modern laws
6.6
Forbid them now to water their stale fish,
6.6
Some fellow, hated by the gods, beholding
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His fish quite dry, picks with his mates a quarrel,
6.6
And blows are interchanged. Then when one thinks
6.6
He's had enough, he falls, and seems to faint,
6.6
And lies like any corpse among his baskets.
6.6
Some one calls out for water; and his partner
6.6
Catches a pail, and throws it o'er his friend
6.6
So as to sprinkle all his fish, and make
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The world believe them newly caught and fresh.
6.7
There's not on earth a more unlucky beast
6.7
Than a poor fish, for whom 'tis not enough
6.7
To die when caught, that they may find at once
6.7
A grave in human stomachs; but what's worse,
6.7
They fall into the hands of odious fishmongers,
6.7
And rot and lie upon their stalls for days;
6.7
And if they meet with some blind purchaser,
6.7
He scarce can carry them when dead away;
6.7
But throws them out of doors, and thinks that he
6.7
Has through his nose had taste enough of them.
6.7
Is it not quite a shame, that if a man
6.7
Has fresh-caught fish to sell, he will not speak
6.7
To any customer without a frown
6.7
Upon his face, and language insolent
6.7
And if his fish are stale, he jokes and laughs-
6.7
While his behaviour should the contrary be;
6.7
The first might laugh, the latter should be shamed.
6.7
Yes, by Minerva, I do marvel at
6.7
The tribe of fishmongers, that they are not
6.7
All wealthy men, such royal gains they make.
6.7
For sitting in the market they do think it
6.7
A trifling thing to tithe our properties;
6.7
But would take all at one fell swoop away.
6.8
There never was a better lawgiver
6.8
Than rich Aristonicus. For he now
6.8
Does make this law, that any fishmonger
6.8
Who puts a price upon his fish, and then
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Sells it for less, shall be at once dragg'd off
6.8
And put in prison; that by their example
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The rest may learn to ask a moderate price,
6.8
And be content with that, and carry home
6.8
Their rotten fish each evening; and then
6.8
Old men, old women, boys, and all their customers,
6.8
Will buy whatever suits them at fair price.
6.8
There never has, since Solon's time, been seen
6.8
A better lawgiver than Aristonicus.
6.8
For he has given many different laws,
6.8
And now he introduces this new statute,
6.8
A golden statute, that no fishmonger
6.8
Should sell his fish while sitting, but that all
6.8
Shall stand all day i' the market. And he says
6.8
Next year he will enact that they shall sell
6.8
Being hung up; for so they will let off
6.8
Their customers more easily, when they
6.8
Are raised by a machine like gods in a play.
6.9
Are not the Scythians of men the wisest?
6.9
Who when their children are first born do give them
6.9
The milk of mares and cows to drink at once,
6.9
And do not trust them to dishonest nurses,
6.9
Or tutors, who of evils are the worst,
6.9
Except the midwives only. For that class
6.9
Is worst of all, and next to them do come
6.9
The begging priests of mighty Cybele;
6.9
And it is hard to find a baser lot-
6.9
Unless indeed you speak of fishmongers,
6.9
But they are worse than even money-changers,
6.9
And are in fact the worst of all mankind.
6.10
I never heard of dearer fish at any time.
6.10
Oh, Neptune, if you only got a tenth
6.10
Of all that money, you would be by far
6.10
The richest of the gods! And yet if he,
6.10
The fishmonger I mean, had been but civil,
6.10
I would have given him his price, though grumbling;
6.10
And, just as Priam ransom'd Hector, I
6.10
Would have put down his weight to buy the conger.
6.10
Living and dead, the monsters of the deep
6.10
Are hostile to us always. If our ship
6.10
Be overturn'd, they then at once devour
6.10
Whatever of the crew they catch while swimming:
6.10
And if they're caught themselves by fishermen,
6.10
When dead they half undo their purchasers;
6.10
For with our whole estate they must be bought,
6.10
And the sad purchaser comes off a beggar.
6.10
The cursedest of all fish-dealers is
6.10
Hermæus the Egyptian; who skins
6.10
And disembowels all the vilest fish,
6.10
And sells them for the choicest, as I hear.
6.11
The beauteous handiwork of portrait painters
6.11
When in a picture seen is much admired;
6.11
But the fair fruit of our best skill is seen
6.11
In a rich dish just taken from the frying-pan.
6.11
For by what other art, my friend, do we
6.11
See young men's appetites so much inflamed?
6.11
What causes such outstretching of the hands
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What is so apt to choke one, if a man.
6.11
Can hardly swallow it? Does not the fish-market
6.11
Alone give zest to banquets Who can spread
6.11
A dinner without fried fish, or anchovies,
6.11
Or high-priced mullet? With what words or charms
6.11
Can a well-favour'd youth be caught, if once
6.11
The fisherman's assistance be denied?
6.11
His art subdues him, bringing to the fish-kettle
6.11
The heads of well-boil'd fish; this leads him on
6.11
To doors which guard th' approach to a good dinner,
6.11
And bids him haste, though nought himself contributing.
6.12
Whoever being poor buys costly fish,
6.12
And though in want of much, in this is lavish,
6.12
He strips by night whoever he may meet.
6.12
So when a man is stripp'd thus, let him go
6.12
At early morn and watch the fish-market.
6.12
And the first man he sees both poor and young
6.12
Buying his eels of Micio, let him seize him,
6.12
And drag him off to prison by the throat.
6.12
A. This is an admirable law at Corinth,
6.12
That when we see a man from time to time
6.12
Purveying largely for his table, we
6.12
Should ask him whence he comes, and what's his business:
6.12
And if he be a man of property,
6.12
Whose revenues can his expenses meet,
6.12
Then we may let him as he will enjoy himself.
6.12
But if he do his income much exceed,
6.12
Then they bid him desist from such a course,
6.12
And fix a fine on all who disobey.
6.12
And if a man having no means at all
6.12
Still lives in splendid fashion, him they give
6.12
Unto the gaoler.
6.12
B. Hercules! what a law.
6.12
A. For such a man can't live without some crime.
6.12
Dost thou not see? He must rove out by night
6.12
And rob, break into houses, or else share
6.12
With some who do so. Or he must haunt the forum,
6.12
A vile informer, or be always ready
6.12
As a hired witness. And this tribe we hate,
6.12
And gladly would expel from this our city.
6.12
B. And you'd do well, by Jove; but what is that to me?
6.12
A. Because we see you every day, my friend,
6.12
Making not moderate but extravagant purchases.
6.12
You hinder all the rest from buying fish,
6.12
And drive the city to the greengrocer,
6.12
And so we fight for parsley like the combatants
6.12
At Neptune's games on th' Isthmus. . Does a hare
6.12
Come to the market? it is yours; a thrush
6.12
Or partridge? all do go the selfsame way.
6.12
So that we cannot buy or fish or fowl;
6.12
And you have raised the price of foreign wine.
6.13
The swineherd served up dishes (πίνακας) of rich meat,Odyss. xvi. 49.
6.13
Dishes (πίνακας) of various meats the butler brought.Ib. i. 141.
6.14
He said he ate anchovies from the frying-pan (τηγάνον).
6.14
To sit before the frying-pans (τήγανα) burning rushes.
6.14
Receive him now with rays and frying-pans (τήγανα).
6.14
Smelling of frying-pans (τήγανα).
6.14
The bellows rouses Vulcan's guardian dogs,
6.14
With the warm vapour of the frying-pan (τήγανον).
6.14
But every lovely woman walks along
6.14
Fed with the choicest morsels from the frying-pan (τήγανον).
6.14
And the dish
6.14
Doth laugh and bubble up with barbarous talk,
6.14
And the fish leap ἐν μέσοισι τηγάνοις.
6.14
'Tis sweet to eat fried meat, at any feast
6.14
For which one has been at no cost oneself.
6.14
He in a τήγανον did boil it well,
6.14
In a large swimming dish.
6.14
Putting his hand within the frying-pan (ἤγανον).
6.15
For where an earthen pot is to be let
6.15
For the cook's use.
6.16
But every vinegar cruet, dish and ewer
6.16
Is made of brass; while all the dirty dishes
6.16
In which they serve up fish are made of silver.
6.16
The oven too is made of ivory.
6.16
Epicrates and his good friend Phormisius,
6.16
Received many and magnificent gifts
6.16
From the great king; a golden cruet-stand,
6.16
And silver plates and dishes.
6.16
The whole house shone
6.16
With store of gold, and of much silver plate.
6.17
A. I felt a pity for all human things,
6.17
Seeing men nobly born to ruin hasting,
6.17
And branded slaves displaying silver dishes
6.17
Whene'er they ate a pennyworth of salt-fish,
6.17
Or a small handful of capers, in a plate
6.17
Whose weight is fifty drachms of purest silver.
6.17
And formerly 'twould have been hard to see
6.17
One single flagon vow'd unto the gods.
6.17
B. That is rare now. For if one man should vow
6.17
A gift like that, some other man would steal it.
6.17
A. I told the slaves, (for I brought two from home,)
6.17
To place the carefully wiped silver vessels
6.17
Fairly in sight. There was a silver goblet,
6.17
And cups which weigh'd two drachms; a beaker too
6.17
Whose weight was four; a wine-cooler, ten obols,
6.17
Slighter than e'en Philippides' own self.
6.17
And yet these things are not so ill-contrived
6.17
To make a show . . . .
6.17
There is some vinegar and a wine-cooler,
6.17
Thinner than thinnest gauze.
6.18
A three-legg'd table now is laid, and on it
6.18
A luscious cheesecake, O ye honour'd gods,
6.18
And this year's honey in a silver dish.
6.18
A silver dish, bearing a stinking shad.
6.18
But at his supper he does sport a cruet
6.18
Of shining silver, richly chased with figures,
6.18
And bas-reliefs of dragons: such as Thibron
6.18
Used to display, most delicate of men,
6.18
Stripp'd of his wealth by arts of Tantalus.
6.18
A splendid breakfast then appear'd, consisting
6.18
Of all that was desirable or new;
6.18
First every kind of oyster; then a phalanx
6.18
Of various side-dishes, and a heap
6.18
Of broiled meats fresh from the gridiron,
6.18
And potted meats in silver mortars pounded.
6.18
And a large basket full of silver plate.
6.18
A bath, maid-servants, lots of silver plate.
6.18
But I am come in quest of silver plate.
6.21
Look on me well; for I was once a part
6.21
Of the wide tower which defended Troy
6.21
When Greeks and Trojans fought for fair-hair'd Helen;
6.21
And Helicon, brave Antenor's son,
6.21
Brought me from thence, and placed me here, to be
6.21
An ornament to Phœbus' holy shrine.
6.21
I am a brazen tripod, and I lie
6.21
Here as an ornament of Delphi's shrine.
6.21
The swift Achilles gave me as a prize
6.21
What time he placed Patroclus on the pile,
6.21
And Tydeus' mighty son, brave Diomede,
6.21
Offer'd me here, won by his speedy coursers
6.21
In the swift race by Helle's spacious wave.
6.22
You ask a precious gift, relief from madness';
6.22
Give me a precious gift yourself; the chain
6.22
With which your mother buried, steeds and all,
6.22
Your sire, her husband, brave Amphiaraus.
6.22
Bring me the golden ornament of the neck
6.22
Of your false wife; which Venus once did give
6.22
A welcome gift to Helen; and then Paris
6.22
Shall glut your direst vengeance by his fall.
6.26
And then they chose some parasites for Hercules.
6.28
But here another stands at this man's feet,
6.28
Seeking for food which shall not cost him anything,
6.28
And he will drink up an entire cask,
6.28
As if it were a cupfull.
6.28
I sup with any one who likes, if he
6.28
Has only got the good sense to invite me;
6.28
And with each man who makes a marriage feast,
6.28
Whether I'm asked or not, there I am witty;
6.28
There I make others laugh, and there I praise
6.28
The host, who gives the feast. And if by chance
6.28
Any one dares to say a word against him,
6.28
I arm myself for contest, and o'erwhelm him.
6.28
Then eating much and drinking plentifully,
6.28
I leave the house. No link-boy doth attend me;
6.28
But I do pick my way with stumbling steps,
6.28
Both dark and desolate; and if sometimes
6.28
I do the watchmen meet, I swear to them
6.28
By all the gods that I have done no wrong;
6.28
But still they set on me. At last, well beaten,
6.28
I reach my home, and go to sleep on the ground,
6.28
And for a while forget my blows and bruises,
6.28
While the strong wine retains its sway and lulls me.
6.29
When a rich man who gives a dinner asks me,
6.29
I look not at the ceiling or the cornices,
6.29
Nor do I criticise Corinthian chasings,
6.29
But keep my eyes fixed on the kitchen smoke,
6.29
And if it goes up strong and straight to heaven,
6.29
I joy and triumph, and I clap my wings;
6.29
But it be but thin and moving sidewise,
6.29
Then I perceive my feast too will be thin.
6.29
There stood a Trojan, not unknown to fame,
6.29
Eetion's son, and Podes was his name,—
6.29
With riches honour'd, and with courage blest,
6.29
By Hector loved, his comrade and his guest.Iliad, xvii. 575.
6.30
But we will tell you now
6.30
The mode of life adopted
6.30
By the whole flattering band,
6.30
And listen ye, and learn
6.30
How well-bred we all are.
6.30
For first of all a boy,
6.30
Another person's slave,
6.30
Attends us; and we are
6.30
Content with very little.
6.30
I have two well-made garments,
6.30
And always have one on;
6.30
I hie me to the forum,
6.30
And when I see a man,
6.30
A foolish man but rich,
6.30
I make my way to him,
6.30
And if he says a word
6.30
I praise his wit and laugh,
6.30
Delighted at his jests.
6.30
And then we go to supper,
6.30
My friends and I, pursuing
6.30
Each different game so long
6.30
As we can save our money.
6.30
And then the parasite
6.30
Must show his wit and manners,
6.30
Or out of doors be turned.
6.30
And one there was, Acestor,
6.30
A branded slave, if I
6.30
Am bound to tell the truth,
6.30
And he was treated so.
6.30
For not one single joke
6.30
Did he ope his lips to utter,
6.30
And so the slaves expell'd
6.30
And pilloried the knave,
6.30
And gave him up to Œneus.
6.31
Why you must be a parasite, my friend;
6.31
And 'tis Ischomachus who does support you.
6.31
See how these youths do play the parasite.
6.31
A. There are two kinds of parasites, Nausinicos:
6.31
The one the common one, much jested on
6.31
By comic writers, we, the blackfaced men
6.31
N. What is the other kind?
6.31
A. Satraps of parasites;
6.31
Illustrious leaders of the band; a troop
6.31
Whom you may call the venerable parasites;
6.31
Men who act well throughout their lives;
6.31
Knit their brows gravely, win estates and legacies.
6.31
Know'st thou the kind of men, and these their manners?
6.31
N. Indeed I do.
6.31
A. Each of these men have one
6.31
Fix'd method of proceeding, flattery;
6.31
And as in life, fortune makes some men great,
6.31
And bids the rest content themselves with little;
6.31
So some of us do thrive, and some do fail.
6.31
Do I not make the matter plain to you
6.31
N. Why if I praise you, you will ask for more.
6.32
Shall I then let a man abuse the parasites?
6.32
No, surely, for there is no race of men
6.32
More useful in such matters. And if company
6.32
Be one of the things which makes life pass agreeably,
6.32
Surely a parasite does this most constantly.
6.32
Are you in love? he, at the shortest notice,
6.32
Feels the same passion. Have you any business
6.32
His business is at once the same as yours;
6.32
And he's at hand to help you as you wish;
6.32
Thinking that only fair to him that feeds him.
6.32
'Tis marvellous how he doth praise his friends—
6.32
He loves a feast where he is ask'd for nothing.
6.32
What man, what hero, or what god exists,
6.32
Who does not scorn such habits and such principles?
6.32
But that I mayn't detain you all the day,
6.32
I think that I can give you one clear proof
6.32
In what respect men hold a parasite;
6.32
For they receive the same rewards as those
6.32
Who at Olympia bear the palm of victory—
6.32
They both are fed for nothing for their virtues;
6.32
And wheresoe'er there is no contribution,
6.32
That place we ought to call the Prytaneum.
6.33
For look, the parasite, if you judge aright,
6.33
Shares both the life and fortune of his friends.
6.33
There is no parasite who'd wish his friends
6.33
To be unfortunate; but on the contrary
6.33
His constant prayer will be, that all may prosper.
6.33
Has any one a fortune? he don't envy him;
6.33
He'd rather always be at hand to share it.
6.33
He is a genuine friend, and eke a safe one,
6.33
Not quarrelsome, ill-humour'd, peevish, sulky,
6.33
But skill'd to keep his temper. Do you mock him?
6.33
He laughs himself; he's amorous or mirthful,
6.33
Just as his friend is i' th' humour. He's a general,
6.33
Or valiant soldier, only let his pay
6.33
Be a good dinner, and he'll ask no more.
6.34
I wish now to inform him
6.34
What is my disposition.
6.34
If any one gives a dinner,
6.34
I'm always to be found,
6.34
So that the young men scoffing
6.34
Because I come in first
6.34
Do call me gravy soup.
6.34
Then if there be occasion
6.34
To check a drunken guest,
6.34
Or turn him out by force,
6.34
You'd think I were Antæus;
6.34
Or must a door be forced?
6.34
I butt like any ram;
6.34
Or would you scale a ladder?
6.34
I'm Capaneus, and eager
6.34
To climb like him to heaven.
6.34
Are blows to be endured?
6.34
A very anvil I;
6.34
Or Telamon or Ajax,
6.34
If wounds are to be given;
6.34
While as a beauty-hunter
6.34
E'en smoke itself can't beat me.It is said to have been a proverb among the Greek women, Smoke follows the fairest.
6.34
For being hungry, and yet eating nothing,
6.34
He is a Tithymallus or Philippides;
6.34
For water-drinking he's a regular frog;
6.34
For eating thyme and cabbages, a snail;
6.34
For hating washing he's a pig; for living
6.34
Out in the open air, a perfect blackbird;
6.34
For standing cold and chattering all the day,
6.34
A second grasshopper; in hating oil
6.34
He's dust; for walking barefoot in the morning,
6.34
A crane; for passing sleepless nights, a bat.
6.35
You know my ways;
6.35
That there's no pride in me, but I am just
6.35
Like this among my friends: a mass of iron
6.35
To bear their blows, a thunderbolt to give them;
6.35
Lightning to blind a man, the wind to move one;
6.35
A very halter, if one needs be choked;
6.35
An earthquake to heave doors from off their hinges;
6.35
A flea to leap quick in; a fly to come
6.35
And feast without a formal invitation;
6.35
Not to depart too soon, a perfect well.
6.35
I'm ready when I'm wanted, whether it be
6.35
To choke a man or kill him, or to prove
6.35
A case against him. All that others say,
6.35
Those things I am prepared at once to do.
6.35
And young men, mocking me on this account,
6.35
Do call me whirlwind—but for me, I care not
6.35
For such light jests. For to my friends I prove
6.35
A friend in deeds, and not in words alone.
6.35
Do you not know that in the form of curse
6.35
These words are found, If any one do fail
6.35
To point the right road to a traveller,
6.35
To quench a fire; or if any one spoil
6.35
The water of a spring or well, or hinders
6.35
A guest upon his way when going to supper?
6.35
The man who first devised the plan of feasting
6.35
At other folk's expense, must sure have been
6.35
A gentleman of very popular manners;
6.35
But he who ask'd a friend or any stranger
6.35
To dinner, and then made him bear his share,
6.35
May he be banish'd, and his goods all seized.
6.36
I wish to show and prove beyond a doubt
6.36
How reputable, and how usual too,
6.36
This practice is; a most divine contrivance.
6.36
Other arts needed not the gods to teach them;
6.36
Wise men invented them; but Jove himself
6.36
Did teach his friends to live as parasites,
6.36
And he confessedly is king o' the gods.
6.36
For he does often to men's houses come,
6.36
And cares not whether they be rich or poor;
6.36
And wheresoe'er he sees a well-laid couch,
6.36
And well-spread table near, supplied with all
6.36
That's good or delicate, he sits him down,
6.36
And asks himself to dinner, eats and drinks,
6.36
And then goes home again, and pays no share.
6.36
And I now do the same. For when I see
6.36
Couches prepared, and handsome tables loaded,
6.36
And the door open to receive the guests,
6.36
I enter in at once, and make no noise,
6.36
But trim myself, behaving quietly,
6.36
To give no great annoyance to my neighbour,
6.36
And then, when I have well enjoy'd the whole
6.36
That's set before me, and when I have drunk
6.36
Of delicate wines enough, I home return,
6.36
Like friendly Jupiter. And that such a line
6.36
Was always thought respectable and honest,
6.36
I now will give you a sufficient proof.
6.36
This city honours Hercules exceedingly,
6.36
And sacrifices to him in all the boroughs,
6.36
And at these sacred rites it ne'er admits
6.36
The common men, or parasites, or beggars;
6.36
But out of all the citizens it picks
6.36
Twelve men of all the noblest families,
6.36
All men of property and character;
6.36
And then some rich men, imitating Hercules,
6.36
Select some parasites, not choosing those
6.36
Who are the wittiest men, but who know best
6.36
How to conciliate men's hearts with flattery;
6.36
So that if any one should eat a radish,
6.36
Or stinking shad, they'd take their oaths at once
6.36
That he had eaten lilies, roses, violets;
6.36
And that if any odious smell should rise,
6.36
They'd ask where you did get such lovely scents.
6.36
So that because these men behave so basely,
6.36
That which was used to be accounted honourable,
6.36
Is now accounted base.
6.37
When first I wish'd to play the parasite
6.37
With that Philoxenus, while youth did still
6.37
Raise down upon my cheeks, I learnt to bear
6.37
Hard blows from fists, and cups and dishes too,
6.37
And bones, so great that oftentimes I was
6.37
All over wounds; but still it paid me well,
6.37
For still the pleasure did exceed the pain.
6.37
And even in some sort I did esteem
6.37
The whole affair desirable for me.
6.37
Is a man quarrelsome, and eager too
6.37
To fight with me? I turn myself to him;
6.37
And all the blame which he does heap upon me,
6.37
I own to be deserved; and am not hurt.
6.37
Does any wicked man call himself good?
6.37
I praise that man, and earn his gratitude.
6.37
To day if I should eat some boiled fish
6.37
I do not mind eating the rest to-morrow.
6.37
Such is my nature and my principle.
6.37
Stand each one in your place, and listen to me,
6.37
Before I write my name, and take my cloak.
6.37
If any question should arise to day
6.37
About those men who live as parasites,
6.37
I have at all times much esteem'd their art,
6.37
And from my childhood have inclined to learn it.
6.38
This is your poor man, O my darling woman;
6.38
This is the only class, as men do say,
6.38
Who can put death to flight. Accordingly
6.38
This Tithymallus does immortal live.
6.38
A. I was above all things ashamed when I
6.38
Found that I was again to have a supper
6.38
For which I was to give no contribution.
6.38
B. A shameful thing, indeed. Still you may see
6.38
Our Tithymallus on his way, more red
6.38
Than saffron or vermilion; and he blushes,
6.38
As you may guess, because he nothing pays.
6.38
Calling, him Tithymallus, parasite.
6.38
A. Will any other thing appear? Be quick,
6.38
For Tithymallus has return'd to life,
6.38
Who was quite dead, now that he well has boil'd
6.38
Eightpennyworth of lupin seed.
6.38
B. For he
6.38
Could not persist in starving himself, but only
6.38
In drinking wine at other men's expense.
6.38
Alas me, how I am in love! ye gods!
6.38
Not Tithymallus did so long to eat,
6.38
Nor Cormus ever to steal another's cloak,
6.38
Nor Nilus to eat cakes, nor Corydus
6.38
To exercise his teeth at other's cost.
6.38
A. For he will not assist his friends for nothing.
6.38
B. You say that Tithymallus will be rich,
6.38
For as I understand you, he will get
6.38
Sufficient pay, and a collection suitable
6.38
From those within whose doors he freely sups.
6.39
To see a well-stock'd market is a treat
6.39
To a rich man, but torture to a poor one.
6.39
Accordingly once Corydus, when he
6.39
Had got no invitation for the day,
6.39
Went to buy something to take home with him.
6.39
And who can cease to laugh at what befel him?—
6.39
The man had only fourpence in his purse;
6.39
Gazing on tunnies, eels, crabs, rays, anchovies,
6.39
He bit his lips till the blood came in vain;
6.39
Then going round, How much is this? said he—
6.39
Then frighten'd at the price, he bought red herrings.
6.39
I fear to look at Corydus in the face,
6.39
Seeming so glad to dine with any one;
6.39
But I will not deny it; he's the same,
6.39
And never yet refused an invitation.
6.39
This Corydus who has so often practised
6.39
His jokes and witticisms, wishes now
6.39
To be Blepæus, and he's not far wrong,
6.39
For mighty are the riches of Blepæus.
6.39
Beware of Corydus the wary brassfounder;
6.39
Unless you make your mind up long before
6.39
To leave him nothing. And I warn you now
6.39
Never to eat your fish with such a man
6.39
As Corydus; for he's a powerful hand,
6.39
Brazen, unwearied, strong as fire itself.
6.39
I have a great desire to raise a laugh,
6.39
And to say witty things, and gain a fame
6.39
Second alone to that of Corydus.
6.40
Bring, O light dust, the conqueror's ivy wreath
6.40
To Machon, who shall live beyond the tomb,
6.40
Machon the comic poet; for you hold
6.40
No dirty drone, but you embrace at last
6.40
A worthy relic of antique renown
6.40
These words from the old bard himself might flow,
6.40
City of Cecrops; even by the Nile
6.40
Is found at times a plant to all the Muses dear.
6.40
A messmate once ask'd Eucrates (Corydus)
6.40
On what terms he and Ptolemy did stand.
6.40
I'm sure, said he, I cannot tell myself:
6.40
For oft he drenches me like any doctor;
6.40
But never gives me solid food to eat.
6.41
Then comes Moschion,
6.41
Who bears the name of messmate in the world.
6.41
A. First then there was Callimedon the crab;
6.41
Then Cobion, and Corydus, and Cyrebion,
6.41
Scombrus and Semidalis.
6.41
B. Hercules!
6.41
This is a list of dishes, not of guests.The preceding names are the names of eatables, in the genitive case, though here used as nominatives, for persons; κώβιον means a sort of tench; κόρυδος (as has been said before), a lark; κυρήβια are husks, bran; σκόμβρος is the generic name for the tunny fish; σεμίδαλις is fine wheat flour, semilago.
6.41
For ye are always mocking one another;
6.41
I know it well. And if a man be handsome
6.41
You call him Holy Marriage . . . .
6.41
If a man be a perfect dwarf, a mannikin,
6.41
You call him Drop. Is any one a dandy?
6.41
He is called Ololus; you know an instance.
6.41
Does a man walk about all fat and heavy,
6.41
Like Democles? you call him Gravy Soup.
6.41
Does any one love dirt? his name is Dust.
6.41
Does any one bedaub his friends with flattery?
6.41
They call him Dingey. Does one want a supper?
6.41
He is the fasting Cestrinus; and if
6.41
One casts one's eye upon a handsome youth,
6.41
They dub one Ceenus, or The Manager.
6.41
Does one in joke convey a lamb away?
6.41
They call one Atreus: or a ram? then Phrixus:
6.41
Or if you take a fleece, they name you Jason.
6.42
The man does not differ the least from Chærephon,
6.42
Whoever he may be. He once was ask'd to supper
6.42
At four o'clock, and so he early rose,
6.42
And measuring the shadow on the dial
6.42
By the moon's light, he started off and came
6.42
To eat his supper at the break of day.
6.42
That witty fellow Chærephon delay'd me,
6.42
Saying that he should make a marriage feast
6.42
The twenty-second of the month, that then
6.42
He might dine with his friends the twenty-fourth,
6.42
For that the goddess's affairs were prospering.
6.42
But Demotion was one who spared for nothing,
6.42
Thinking his money never could run dry,
6.42
But dinners gave to all who liked to come.
6.42
And Chærephon, that wretchedest of men,
6.42
Treated his house as though it were his own.
6.42
And yet is not this a most shameful thing,
6.42
To take a branded slave for a parasite
6.42
For he's a perfect clown, and not in want.
6.42
Let us go now to sup, just as we are,
6.42
Bearing our torches and our garlands with us;
6.42
'Twas thus that Chærephon, when supperless,
6.42
Used to manœuvre for an invitation.
6.42
Let us start off to go to supper now,
6.42
'Tis one of twenty covers as he told me;
6.42
Though Chærephon perhaps may add himself.
6.43
They say that Chærephon all uninvited
6.43
Came to the wedding feast of Ophelas,
6.43
Thrusting himself in in unheard-of fashion.
6.43
For carrying a basket and a garland
6.43
When it was dark, he said that he had come
6.43
By order of the bride, bringing some birds,
6.43
And on this pretext he did get his supper.
6.43
I Mars invoke, and mighty Victory,
6.43
To favour this my expedition.
6.43
I also call on Chærephon—but then
6.43
He's sure to come, e'en if I call him not.
6.43
Once Chærephon a lengthen'd journey took
6.43
Out of the city to a wedding feast,
6.43
And on his way met Diphilus the poet,
6.43
Who greeted him—"Take my advice, O Cheerephon,
6.43
And fasten four stout nails to your two cheeks;
6.43
Lest, while you shake your head in your long journey,
6.43
You should put both your jaws quite out of joint.
6.43
Chærephon once was purchasing some meat,
6.43
And when the butcher was by chance, he says,
6.43
Cutting him out a joint with too much bone,
6.43
He said, O butcher, don't weigh me that bone.
6.43
Says he, The meat is sweet, indeed men say
6.43
The meat is always sweetest near the bone.
6.43
But Chærephon replied, It may be sweet,
6.43
But still it weighs much heavier than I like.
6.44
There was a parasite named Archephon,
6.44
Who, having sail'd from Attica to Egypt,
6.44
Was ask'd by Ptolemy the king to supper.
6.44
Then many kinds of fish which cling to rocks
6.44
Were served up, genuine crabs, and dainty limpets;
6.44
And last of all appear'd a large round dish
6.44
With three boil'd tench of mighty size, at which
6.44
The guests all marvell'd; and this Archephon
6.44
Ate of the char, and mackerel, and mullets,
6.44
Till he could eat no longer; when he never
6.44
Had tasted anything before more tender
6.44
Than sprats and worthless smelts from the Phalerum;
6.44
But from the tench he carefully abstain'd.
6.44
And this did seem a most amazing thing,
6.44
So that the king inquired of Alcenor,
6.44
Whether the man had overlook'd the tench.
6.44
The hunchback said; No, quite the contrary,
6.44
He was the first to see them, Ptolemy,
6.44
But still he will not touch them, for this fish
6.44
Is one he holds in awe; and he's afraid
6.44
And thinks it quite against his country's rules
6.44
That he, while bringing nothing to the feast,
6.44
Should dare to eat a fish which has a vote.
6.45
I'd better be a parasite of Pegasus,
6.45
Or the Boreade, or whoever else
6.45
Is faster still, than thus to Demeas
6.45
Eteobutades, the son of Laches,
6.45
For he is not content to walk, but flies.
6.45
A. Oh Stratius, dost thou love me?
6.45
B. Aye, I do
6.45
More than my father, for he does not feed me;
6.45
But you do give the best of dinners daily.
6.45
A. And do you pray the gods that I may live
6.45
B. No doubt I do; for how should I myself
6.45
Live if misfortune happen'd unto you?
6.45
They cannot now make the excuse of wine,
6.45
As Gryllion was always used to do.
6.46
Open the doors at once, that we may be
6.46
More in the light against the gynæconomus
6.46
Shall enter and begin to count the guests,
6.46
As he is bound to do by this new law,
6.46
A marvellous statute. It were better far
6.46
That he should ask who are without a dinner.
6.46
Knowing that by some new law lately passed,
6.46
The cooks who minister at marriage feasts
6.46
Have given in their names and are enroll'd
6.46
In the books of the gynæconomi,
6.46
So that they may the number learn of those
6.46
Who are invited, lest a man should feast
6.46
More than the legal number.
6.47
It seems that once a wretched harp-player,
6.47
Being about to build himself a house,
6.47
Begg'd of a friend to lend him a few stones;
6.47
And many more will I repay, he said,
6.47
When I've display'd my art to all the people.
6.48
μάστιξεν δ’ ἐλαᾷν.
6.48
They say that Moschion the water drinker
6.48
Once, when he was with friends in the Lyceum,
6.48
Seeing a parasite who was used to live
6.48
Upon a rich old woman, said to him,
6.48
"My friend, your fate is truly marvellous;
6.48
For your old dame does give you a big belly."
6.48
Nothing is strange henceforth, she brings forth nothing,
6.48
But the man daily doth become big-bellied.
6.50
You will find here some of the parasites (ἐπισίτιοι)
6.50
Who eat at other men's tables till they burst,
6.50
That you might say they give themselves to athletes
6.50
To act as quintain sacks.
6.50
A. But you, my friend Smicythion, will not
6.50
Get your food (ἐπισιτίζομαι) quicker.
6.50
B. Who, I pray, is this?
6.50
A. I bring this greedy stranger everywhere,
6.50
As if he were my hired slave or soldier.
6.50
For if you prosecute one wicked man,
6.50
Twelve ἐπισίτιοι will come against you,
6.50
And so defeat you by their evidence.
6.50
He wishes to remain an ἐπισίτιος
6.50
Among them, and will never ask for wages.
6.51
A. You have escaped well from such a throw.
6.51
S. You are right witty.
6.51
A. Well, lay down your drachma.
6.51
S. That has been done: how shall I throw Euripides?
6.51
A. Euripides will never save a woman.
6.51
See you not how he hates them in his tragedies?
6.51
But he has always fancied parasites,
6.51
And thus he speaks, you'll easily find the place:
6.51
"For every rich man who does not feed
6.51
At least three men who give no contribution,
6.51
Exile deserves and everlasting ruin."
6.51
S. Where is that passage?
6.51
A. What is that to you
6.51
'Tis not the play, but the intent that signifies.
6.51
Is then the parasite angry? is he furious?
6.51
Not he; he only smears with gall the table,
6.51
And weans himself like any child from milk.
6.51
A. Then you may eat, O parasite.
6.51
B. Just see
6.51
How he disparages that useful skill.
6.51
A. Well, know you not that all men rank a parasite
6.51
Below a harp-player
6.51
A surly man should never be a parasite.
6.52
This is to be a real friend; not one
6.52
Who asks, What time is dinner? as the rest do.
6.52
And, Why should we not all at once sit down?
6.52
And fishes for another invitation
6.52
To-morrow and next day, and then again
6.52
Asks if there's not a funeral feast to follow.
6.52
I being abstinent cannot endure
6.52
Such things as these.
6.52
A son who feeds at home (οἰκόσιτος) is a great comfort.
6.52
The οἰκόσιτος quickly doth become
6.52
A regular attendant at th' assembly.
6.52
We found a bridegroom willing to keep house (οἰκόσιτος)
6.52
At his own charges, for no dowry seeking.
6.52
You do not get your hearers there for nothing (οἰκοσίτους).
6.52
He feeds his messmate (ἐπισίτιον) while he shivers thus
6.52
In Megabyzus' house, and he will have
6.52
Food for his wages.
6.52
It is a well-bred custom not to assemble
6.52
A crowd of women, nor to feast a multitude;
6.52
But to make a domestic (οἰκοσίτους) wedding feast.
6.52
You will be but a walking bread-devourer (σιτόκουρος)
6.52
A lazy ever-procrastinating fellow,
6.52
A σιτόκουρος, miserable, useless,
6.52
Owning himself a burden on the earth.
6.52
Wretch, you were standing at the door the while,
6.52
Having laid down your burden; while, for us,
6.52
We took the wretched σιτόκουρος in.
6.52
A parasite αὐτόσιτος, feeding himself,
6.52
You do contribute much to aid your master.
6.52
Sleep nourishes him since he's no appetite (κακόσιτος).
6.52
What does that sparing eater (ὀλιγόσιτος) Hercules there?
6.52
How sparingly you eat, who in one day
6.52
Swallow the food of an entire trireme.
6.53
For of all men the flatterer fares best,
6.55
Until I meet with men who know not Philip.
6.57
Detesting tables where there was too much pride (ὄγκος).
6.57
'Tis ichor, such as flows from the blessed gods.
6.63
Behold the greatest of the gods and dearest
6.63
Are come to this city,
6.63
For here DemeterDemeter, δημήτηρ, or as it is written in the text δημήτρα. Ceres, the mother of Proserpine. and Demetrius are
6.63
Present in season.
6.63
She indeed comes to duly celebrate
6.63
The sacred mysteries
6.63
Of her most holy daughter—he is present
6.63
Joyful and beautiful,
6.63
As a god ought to be, with smiling face
6.63
Showering his blessings round.
6.63
How noble doth he look! his friends around,
6.63
Himself the centre.
6.63
His friends resemble the bright lesser stars,
6.63
Himself is Phœbus.
6.63
Hail, ever-mighty Neptune's mightier son;
6.63
Hail, son of Venus.
6.63
For other gods do at a distance keep,
6.63
Or have no ears,
6.63
Or no existence; and they heed not us—
6.63
But you are present,
6.63
Not made of wood or stone, a genuine god.
6.63
We pray to thee.
6.63
First of all give us peace, O dearest god—
6.63
For you are lord of peace—
6.63
And crush for us yourself, for you've the power,
6.63
'This odious Sphinx;
6.63
Which now destroys not Thebes alone, but Greece—
6.63
The whole of Greece—
6.63
I mean th' Aetolian, who, like her of old,
6.63
Sits on a rock,
6.63
And tears and crushes all our wretched bodies.
6.63
Nor can we him resist.
6.63
For all th' Aetolians plunder all their neighbours;
6.63
And now they stretch afar
6.63
Their lion hands; but crush them, mighty lord,
6.63
Or send some Œdipus
6.63
Who shall this Sphinx hurl down from off his precipice,
6.63
Or starve him justly.
6.64
Boy, give a larger cup, and pour therein
6.64
Four cyathi of strong and friendly drink,
6.64
In honour of all present. Then you shall add
6.64
Three more for love; one for the victory,
6.64
The glorious victory of King Antigonus,
6.64
Another for the young Demetrius.
6.64
Bring a third cup in honour now of Venus,
6.64
The lovely Venus. Hail, my friends and guests;
6.64
I drink this cup to the success of all of you.
6.65
The flatterers are worms which prey upon
6.65
All who have money; for they make an entrance
6.65
Into the heart of a good guileless man,
6.65
And take their seat there, and devour it,
6.65
Till they have drain'd it like the husk of wheat,
6.65
And leave the shell; and then attack some other.
6.65
A flatterer destroys
6.65
By his pernicious speeches
6.65
Both general and prince,
6.65
Both private friends and states;
6.65
He pleases for a while,
6.65
But causes lasting ruin.
6.65
And now this evil habit
6.65
Has spread among the people,
6.65
Our courts are all diseased,
6.65
And all is done by favour.
6.66
For flattery is now complaisance call'd.
6.66
A flatterer's life but a brief space endures,
6.66
For no one likes a hoary parasite.
6.71
A. Tell me now, you had lived some time in Cyprus
6.71
Say you not so?
6.71
B. Yes, all the time of the war.
6.71
A. In what part most especially? tell me that.
6.71
B. In Paphos, where you should have seen the luxury
6.71
That did exist, or you could not believe it.
6.71
A. What kind of luxury?
6.71
B. The king was fann'd
6.71
While at his supper by young turtle-doves
6.71
And by nought else.
6.71
A. How mean you? never mind
6.71
My own affairs, but let me ask you this.
6.71
B. He was anointed with a luscious ointment
6.71
Brought up from Syria, made of some rich fruit
6.71
Which they do say doves love to feed upon.
6.71
They were attracted by the scent and flew
6.71
Around the royal temples; and had dared
6.71
To seat themselves upon the monarch's head,
6.71
But that the boys who sat around with sticks
6.71
Did keep them at a slight and easy distance.
6.71
And so they did not perch, but hover'd round,
6.71
Neither too far nor yet too near, still fluttering,
6.71
So that they raised a gentle breeze to blow
6.71
Not harshly on the forehead of the king.
6.72
I wish'd to try another style of life,
6.72
Which all men are accustom'd to call wet.
6.72
So walking three days in the Ceramicus,
6.72
I found it may be thirty skilful teachers
6.72
Of the aforesaid life, from one single school.
6.72
The wetness of your life amazes me,
6.72
For men do call intemperance now wetness.
6.73
Is there, or can there be an art more pleasing,
6.73
Or any source of gain more sure and gainful
6.73
Than well-judged flattery? Why does the painter
6.73
Take so much pains and get so out of temper?
6.73
Why does the farmer undergo such risks?
6.73
Indeed all men are full of care and trouble.
6.73
But life for us is full of fun and laughter.
6.73
For where the greatest business is amusement,
6.73
To laugh and joke and drink full cups of wine,
6.73
Is not that pleasant't How can one deny?
6.73
'Tis the next thing to being rich oneself.
6.73
By the Olympian Jove and by Minerva
6.73
I am a happy man. And not alone
6.73
Because I'm going to a wedding dinner,
6.73
But because I shall burst, an it please God.
6.73
And would that I might meet with such a death.
6.73
For I must speak of a yearly feast
6.73
As if it came round every day.
6.76
But he is harsh and rigorous to the solemn,
6.76
But most good-humour'd to all flatterers,
6.76
And all who jest with freedom. For he thinks
6.76
Those men alone are free, though slaves they be.
6.80
Do you reproach me that I'm ostentatious?
6.80
Why should you do so? for this quality
6.80
Is far beyond all others, only flattery
6.80
Excepted: that indeed is best of all.
6.80
You are call'd a whisperer and psomocolax.
6.80
What will become of you, you cursed psomocolaces.
6.80
The man is a psomocolax.
6.80
Always contending and ψωμοκολακεύων.
6.80
They call you a runaway ψωμοκόλαφος.
6.81
'Tis hard to see around one savoury cakes,
6.81
And delicate birds half eaten; yet the slaves
6.81
Are not allow'd to eat the fragments even,
6.81
As say the women.
6.81
What can be worse than, while the guests are drinking,
6.81
To hear the constant cry of, Here, boy, here!
6.81
And this that one may bear a chamberpot
6.81
To some vain beardless youth; and see around
6.81
Half eaten savoury cakes, and delicate birds,
6.81
Whose very fragments are forbidden strictly
6.81
To all the slaves—at least the women say so;
6.81
And him who drinks a cup men call a belly-god;
6.81
And if he tastes a mouthful of solid food
6.81
They call him greedy glutton:
6.83
For no one then had any Manes,A slave's name. no,
6.83
Nor home-born slaves; but the free women themselves
6.83
Did work at everything within the house.
6.83
And so at morn they ground the corn for bread,
6.83
Till all the streets resounded with the mills.
6.83
There is not anywhere, my friend, a state
6.83
Of none but slaves; but fortune regulates
6.83
And changes at its will th' estates of men.
6.83
Many there are who are not free to day,
6.83
But will to-morrow free-men be of Sunium,
6.83
And the day after public orators;
6.83
For so the deity guides each man's helm.
6.84
And they may well be call'd Bringers of Gifts,
6.84
Fearing the stern dominion of their kings.
6.85
The wrinkled counsellors of a Penestan master.
6.85
λάτρις πενέστης ἁμὸς ἀρχαίων δόμων.
6.87
Jove fix'd it certain that whatever day
6.87
Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.
6.93
Alas, O servant, go on wings and close
6.93
The house lest any man should enter in.
6.93
How rich in slaves (εὔδουλος) and how well housed he was (εὔοικος);
6.94
As for those men, those heroes old,
6.94
Who lived in Saturn's time,
6.94
When men did play at dice with loaves,
6.94
And Aeginetan cakes
6.94
Of barley well and brownly baked
6.94
Were roll'd down before men
6.94
Who did in the palæstra toil,
6.94
Full of hard lumps of dough . . . .
6.94
A. Then no one shall possess or own
6.94
One male or female slave,
6.94
But shall himself, though ne'er so old,
6.94
Labour for all his needs.
6.94
B. Not so, for I will quickly make
6.94
These matters all come right.
6.94
A. And what will your plans do for us?
6.94
B. Why everything you call for
6.94
Should of its own accord come forth,
6.94
As if now you should say,
6.94
O table, lay yourself for dinner,
6.94
And spread a cloth upon you.
6.94
You kneading-trough, prepare some dough;
6.94
You cyathus, pour forth wine;
6.94
Where is the cup? come hither, cup,
6.94
And empt and wash yourself.
6.94
Come up, O cake. You sir, you dish,
6.94
Here, bring me up some beetroot.
6.94
Come hither, fish. "I can't, for I
6.94
Am raw on t' other side."
6.94
Well, turn round then and baste yourself
6.94
With oil and melted butter.
6.94
But argue thus: I on the other hand
6.94
Shall first of all bring water for the hot baths
6.94
On columns raised as through the PæoniumThe Pæonium, if that is the proper reading, appears to have been a place in Athens where there were pillars on which an aqueduct was supported. But there is a doubt about the reading.
6.94
Down to the sea, so that the stream shall flow
6.94
Direct to every private person's bath.
6.94
Then he shall speak and check the flowing water.
6.94
Then too an alabaster box of ointment
6.94
Shall of its own accord approach the bather,
6.94
And sponges suitable, and also slippers.
6.95
I will tell you now the life
6.95
Which I have prepared for men.
6.95
First of all the lovely Peace
6.95
Everywhere was always by,
6.95
Like spring water which is poured
6.95
O'er the hands of feasted guests.
6.95
The earth produced no cause for fear,
6.95
No pains and no diseases.
6.95
And everything a man could want
6.95
Came forth unask'd for to him.
6.95
The streams all ran with rosy wine,
6.95
And barley-cakes did fight
6.95
With wheaten loaves which first could reach
6.95
A hungry man's open mouth.
6.95
And each entreated to be eaten;
6.95
If men loved dainty whiteness.
6.95
Fish too came straight unto men's doors,
6.95
And fried themselves all ready,
6.95
Dish'd themselves up, and stood before
6.95
The guests upon the tables.
6.95
A stream of soup did flow along
6.95
In front of all the couches,
6.95
Rolling down lumps of smoking meat;
6.95
And rivulets of white sauce
6.95
Brought to all such as chose to eat
6.95
The sweetest forced-meat balls.
6.95
So that there was no lack, but all
6.95
Did eat whate'er they wanted.
6.95
Dishes there were of boil'd meat too,
6.95
And sausages likewise and pasties;
6.95
And roasted thrushes and rissoles
6.95
Flew down men's throats spontaneously.
6.95
Then there were sounds of cheesecakes too
6.95
Crush'd in men's hungry jaws:
6.95
While the boys play'd with dainty bits
6.95
Of tripe, and paunch, and liver.
6.95
No wonder men did on such fare
6.95
Get stout and strong as giants.
6.96
A. But all those things were heap'd in confusion
6.96
By o'ergrown wealth, abounding altogether
6.96
In every kind of luxury. There were rivers
6.96
With tender pulse and blackest soup o'erflowing,
6.96
Which ran down brawling through the narrow dishes,
6.96
Bearing the crusts and spoons away in the flood.
6.96
Then there were dainty closely kneaded cakes;
6.96
So that the food, both luscious and abundant,
6.96
Descended to the gullets of the dead.
6.96
There were black-puddings and large boiling slices
6.96
Of well-mix'd sausages, which hiss'd within
6.96
The smoking streamlet in the stead of oysters.
6.96
There too were cutlets of broil'd fish well season'd
6.96
With sauce of every kind, and cook, and country.
6.96
There were huge legs of pork, most tender meat,
6.96
Loading enormous platters; and boil'd pettitoes
6.96
Sending a savoury steam; and paunch of ox;
6.96
And well-cured chine oporker, red with salt,
6.96
A dainty dish, on fried meat balls upraised.
6.96
There too were cakes of groats well steep'd in milk,
6.96
In large flat dishes, and rich plates of beestings.
6.96
B. Alas, you will destroy me. Why do you
6.96
Remain here longer, when you thus may dive
6.96
Just as you are beneath deep Tartarus?
6.96
A. What will you say then when you hear the rest?
6.96
For roasted thrushes nicely brown'd and hot
6.96
Flew to the mouths o' the guests, entreating them
6.96
To deign to swallow them, besprinkled o'er
6.96
With myrtle leaves and flowers of anemone,
6.96
And plates of loveliest apples hung around
6.96
Above our heads, hanging in air as it seem'd.
6.96
And maidens in the most transparent robes,
6.96
Just come to womanhood, and crowned with roses,
6.96
Did through a strainer pour red mantling cups
6.96
Of fragrant wine for all who wish'd to drink.
6.96
And whatsoe'er each guest did eat or drink
6.96
Straight reappear'd in twofold quantity.
6.97
But what need, I pray you now,
6.97
Have we of all you ploughmen,
6.97
Or carters, mowers, reapers too,
6.97
Or coopers, or brass-founders?
6.97
What need we seed, or furrow's line?
6.97
For of their own accord
6.97
Rivers do flow down every road
6.97
(Though half choked up with comfits)
6.97
Of rich black soup, which rolls along
6.97
Within its greasy flood
6.97
Achilles's fat barley-cake,
6.97
And streams of sauce which flow
6.97
Straight down from Plutus's own springs,
6.97
For all the guests to relish.
6.97
Meantime Jove rains down fragrant wine,
6.97
As if it were a bath,
6.97
And from the roof red strings of grapes
6.97
Hang down, with well made cakes,
6.97
Water'd the while with smoking soup,
6.97
And mix'd with savoury omelets.
6.97
E'en all the trees upon the hills
6.97
Will put forth leaves of paunches,
6.97
Kids' paunches, and young cuttle-fish,
6.97
And smoking roasted thrushes.
6.98
Let it now snow white cakes of pulse;
6.98
Let loaves arise like dew; let it rain soup;
6.98
Let gravy roll down lumps of meat i' the roads,
6.98
And cheese-cakes beg the wayfarer to eat them.
6.98
The river Crathis bears down unto us
6.98
Huge barley-cakes, self-kneaded and self-baked.
6.98
The other river, called the Sybaris,
6.98
Rolls on large waves of meat and sausages,
6.98
And boiled rays all wriggling the same way.
6.98
And all these lesser streamlets flow along
6.98
With roasted cuttle-fish, and crabs, and lobsters;
6.98
And, on the other side, with rich black-puddings
6.98
And forced-meat stuffings; on the other side
6.98
Are herbs and lettuces, and fried bits of pastry.
6.98
Above, fish cut in slices and self-boil'd
6.98
Rush to the mouth; some fall before one's feet,
6.98
And dainty cheese-cakes swim around us everywhere.
6.99
For in an empty stomach there's no room
6.99
For love of beauteous objects, since fair Venus
6.99
Is always hostile to a hungry man;
6.99
Venus abides in fulness, and avoids
6.99
The hungry stomach.
6.99
The market is of herbs and loaves too full.
6.99
But if we are to bathe and sup on words,
6.99
Then I my share contribute as a listener;
6.99
But barley dearer is to hungry men
6.99
Than gold or Libyan ivory;
6.100
Gird thyself up, O poverty, and bear
6.100
A little longer with these foolish babblers,
6.100
For copious food and hunger sharp subdues thee.
6.100
There are none of the rich men
6.100
In the least like you, by Vulcan,
6.100
Who enjoy a dainty table,
6.100
And who every day can eat
6.100
All delicacies that you wish.
6.100
For now, I see a thing beyond belief—
6.100
A prodigy; all sorts of kinds of fish
6.100
Sporting around this cape-tenches and char,
6.100
White and red mullet, rays, and perch, and eels,
6.100
Tunnies, and blacktails, and cuttle-fish, and pipe-fish,
6.100
And hake, and cod, and lobsters, crabs and scorpions;
6.100
Without a sign his knife the hungry draws,
6.100
And asks no omen but his supper's cause—