by Theocritus
καὶ σὺ μὲν ὕμνησαί μοι ἄναξ. σὲ δὲ Κάστορ ἀείσω, 135
Τυνδαρίδη ταχύπωλε δορυσσόε χαλκεοθώρηξ.
[135] The tale of thy praise, great Lord, is told; and now of thee, good my Castor, will I sing, Castor the Tyndarid, lord of coursers, wielder of spears, knight of the corselet of brass.
τὼ μὲν ἀναρπάξαντε δύω φερέτην Διὸς υἱὼ
δοιὰς Λευκίπποιο κόρας: δοιὼ δ᾽ ἄρα τώγε
ἐσσυμένως ἐδίωκον ἀδελφεὼ υἷ᾽ ᾿Αφαρῆος,
γαμβρὼ μελλογάμω, Λυγκεὺς καὶ ὁ καρτερὸς ῎Ιδας.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε τύμβον ἵκανον ἀποφθιμένου ᾿Αφαρῆος,
ἐκ δίφρων ἅμα πάντες ἐπ᾽ ἀλλήλοισιν ὄρουσαν,
ἔγχεσι καὶ κοίλοισι βαρυνόμενοι σακέεσσι.
Λυγκεὺς δ᾽ αὖ μετέειπεν ὑπὲκ κόρυθος μέγ᾽ ἀύσας:
δαιμόνιοι, τί μάχης ἱμείρετε; πῶς δ᾽ ἐπὶ νύμφαις
ἀλλοτρίαις χαλεποί, γυμναὶ δ᾽ ἐν χερσὶ μάχαιραι;
ἡμῖν τοι Λεύκιππος ἑὰς ἕδνωσε θύγατρας
τάσδε πολὺ προτέροις, ἡμῖν γάμος οὗτος ἐν ὅρκῳ:
ὑμεῖς δ᾽ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον ἐπ᾽ ἀλλοτρίοις λεχέεσσιν
βουσὶ καὶ ἡμιόνοισι καὶ ἄλλοισι κτεάτεσσιν 150
ἄνδρα παρετρέψασθε, γάμον δ᾽ ἐκλέπτετε δώροις.
ἦ μὰν πολλάκις ὔμμιν ἐνώπιον ἀμφοτέροισιν
αὐτὸς ἐγὼ τάδ᾽ ἔειπα καὶ οὐ πολύμυθος ἐών περ:
‘οὐχ οὕτω φίλοι ἄνδρες ἀριστήεσσιν ἔοικε
μνηστεύειν ἀλόχους, αἷς νυμφίοι ἤδη ἑτοῖμοι. 155
πολλή τοι Σπάρτη, πολλὴ δ᾽ ἱππήλατος ̂̓Ηλις,
᾿Αρκαδίη τ᾽ εὔμηλος ᾿Αχαιῶν τε πτολίεθρα,
Μεσσήνη τε καὶ ῎Αργος ἅπασά τε Σισυφὶς ἀκτή:
ἔνθα κόραι τοκέεσσιν ὑπὸ σφετέροισι τρέφονται
μυρίαι οὔτε φυῆς ἐπιδευέες οὔτε νόοιο. 160
τάων εὐμαρὲς ὔμμιν ὀπυίειν ἅς κ᾽ ἐθέλητε:
ὡς ἀγαθοῖς πολέες βούλοιντό κε πενθεροὶ εἶναι:
ὑμεῖς δ᾽ ἐν πάντεσσι διάκριτοι ἡρώεσσι,
καὶ πατέρες καὶ ἄνωθεν ἅπαν πατρώιον αἷμα.
ἀλλὰ φίλοι τοῦτον μὲν ἐάσατε πρὸς τέλος ἐλθεῖν 165
ἄμμι γάμον: σφῷν δ᾽ ἄλλον ἐπιφραζώμεθα πάντες.’
ἴσκον τοιάδε πολλά, τὰ δ᾽ εἰς ὑγρὸν ᾤχετο κῦμα
πνοιὴ ἔχουσ᾽ ἀνέμοιο, χάρις δ᾽ οὐχ ἕσπετο μύθοις.
σφὼ γὰρ ἀκηλήτω καὶ ἀπηνέες. ἀλλ᾽ ἔτι καὶ νῦν
πείθεσθ᾽: ἄμφω δ᾽ ἄμμιν ἀνεψιὼ ἐκ πατρὸς ἐστόν. 170
εἰ δ᾽ ὑμῖν κραδίη πόλεμον ποθεῖ, αἵματι δὲ χρὴ
νεῖκος ἀναρρήξαντας ὁμοίιον ἔγχεα λοῦσαι,
῎Ιδας μὲν καὶ ὅμαιμος ἐμός, κρατερὸς Πολυδεύκης,
χεῖρας ἐρωήσουσιν ἀπεχθομένης ὑσμίνης,
νῶι δ᾽, ἐγὼ Κάστωρ τε, διακρινώμεθ᾽ ἄρηι 175
ὁπλοτέρω γεγαῶτε. γονεῦσι δὲ μὴ πολὺ πένθος
ἡμετέροισι λίπωμεν. ἅλις νέκυς ἐξ ἑνὸς οἴκου
εἶς: ἀτὰρ ὥλλοι πάντες ἐυφρανέουσιν ἑταίρους
νυμφίοι ἀντὶ νεκρῶν, ὑμεναιώσουσι δὲ κούρας
τάσδ᾽: ὀλίγῳ τοι ἔοικε κακῷ μέγα νεῖκος ἀναιρεῖν. 180
[137] The twin children of Zeus were up and away with the daughters twain of Leucippus, and the two sons of Aphareus were hotfoot upon their track, Lynceus to wit and doughty Idas, the bridegrooms that were to be. But when they were got to the grave of Aphareus dead, they lighted all from their chariots together and made at once another in the accoutrement of spear and shield. Then up spake Lynceus and cried aloud from beneath his casque, saying: ‘Sirs, why so desirous of battle? How come you so unkind concerning other men’s brides? and wherefore these naked weapons in your hands? These daughters of Leucippus were plighted to us, to us long ere you came; we have his oath to it. But as for you, you have prevailed on him unseemly for other men’s wives with cattle and mules and what not; ye be stealing bridal with a gift. Yet time and again, god wot, albeit I am no man of many words, I have myself spoke to your face and said: “It ill becometh princes, good friends, to go a-wooing such as be betrothed already. Sparta is wide, and so is Elis o’ the coursers; wide likewise the sheep-walks of Arcady and the holds of Achaea; Messenè also and Argos and all the seaboard of Sisyphus: there’s ten thousand maidens do well in them at the houses of their fathers, wanting nothing in beauty or in parts, of the which you may take whomso you will to your wives. For many there be would fain be made wife’s father unto a good man and true, and you are men of mark among all heroes, you and your fathers and all your fathers’ blood of yore. Nay then, my friends, suffer us to bring this marriage to fulfilment, and we’ll all devise other espousal for you.” Such was my often rede, but the wind’s breath was ever away with it unto the wet sea-wave, and no favour followed upon my words; for ye hard men both and relentless. Yet even at this hour I pray you give heed, seeing ye be our kin by the father.’
(The beginning of Castor’s reply is lost)
‘. . . But and if your heart would have war, if kindred strife must needs break forth and hate make an end in blood, then shall Idas and my doughty Polydeuces stand aside from the abhorred fray, and let you and me, Lynceus, that are the younger men, fight this matter out. So shall we leave our fathers the less sorrow, seeing one is enough dead of one household, and the two that be left shall glad all their friends as bridegrooms instead of men slain, and their wedding-song shall be of these maidens. And in such sort, I ween, a great strife is like to end in but little loss.’
εἶπε, τὰ δ᾽ οὐκ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλε θεὸς μεταμώνια θήσειν.
τὼ μὲν γὰρ ποτὶ γαῖαν ἀπ᾽ ὤμων τεύχε᾽ ἔθεντο,
ὣ γενεῇ προφέρεσκον: ὁ δ᾽ ἐς μέσον ἤλυθε Λυγκεύς,
σείων καρτερὸν ἔγχος ὑπ᾽ ἀσπίδος ἄντυγα πρώτην:
ὣς δ᾽ αὔτως ἄκρας ἐτινάξατο δούρατος ἀκμὰς 185
Κάστωρ: ἀμφοτέροις δὲ λόφων ἐπένευον ἔθειραι.
ἔγχεσι μὲν πρώτιστα τιτυσκόμενοι πόνον εἶχον
ἀλλήλων, εἴ πού τι χροὸς γυμνωθὲν ἴδοιεν.
ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι τὰ μὲν ἄκρα πάρος τινὰ δηλήσασθαι
δοῦρ᾽ ἐάγη, σακέεσσιν ἐνὶ δεινοῖσι παγέντα. 190
τὼ δ᾽ ἄορ ἐκ κολεοῖο ἐρυσσαμένω φόνον αὖτις
τεῦχον ἐπ᾽ ἀλλήλο
ισι: μάχης δ᾽ οὐ γίνετ᾽ ἐρωή.
πολλὰ μὲν ἐς σάκος εὐρὺ καὶ ἱππόκομον τρυφάλειαν
Κάστωρ, πολλὰ δ᾽ ἔνυξεν ἀκριβὴς ὄμμασι Λυγκεὺς
τοῖο σάκος, φοίνικα δ᾽ ὅσον λόφον ἵκετ᾽ ἀκωκή. 195
τοῦ μὲν ἄκρην ἐκόλουσεν ἐπὶ σκαιὸν γόνυ χεῖρα
φάσγανον ὀξὺ φέροντος ὑπεξαναβὰς ποδὶ Κάστωρ
σκαιῷ: ὁ δὲ πληγεὶς ξίφος ἔκβαλεν, αἶψα δὲ φεύγειν
ὡρμήθη ποτὶ σῆμα πατρός, τόθι καρτερὸς ῎Ιδας
κεκλιμένος θηεῖτο μάχην ἐμφύλιον ἀνδρῶν. 200
ἀλλὰ μεταΐξας πλατὺ φάσγανον ὦσε διαπρὸ
Τυνδαρίδης λαγόνος τε καὶ ὀμφαλοῦ: ἔγκατα δ᾽ εἴσω
χαλκὸς ἄφαρ διέχευεν: ὁ δ᾽ ἐς στόμα κεῖτο νενευκὼς
Λυγκεύς, κὰδ δ᾽ ἄρα οἱ βλεφάρων βαρὺς ἔδραμεν ὕπνος.
[181] So he spake and, it seems, god was not to make his speaking vain. For the two that were the elder did off their armour and laid it upon the ground; but Lynceus, he stepped forth with his stout lance a-quiver hard beneath the target’s rim, and Castor, he levelled the point of his spear even in the same manner as Lynceus, the plumes nodding the while upon either’s crest. First made they play with the tilting of the lance, if haply they might spy a naked spot; but or ever one of them was wounded the lance-point stuck fast in the trusty buckler and was knapped in twain. Then drew they sword to make havoc of each other; for there was no surcease of battle. Many a time did Castor prick the broad buckler or horse-haired casque; many a time did the quick-eyed Lynceus come at the other’s targe or graze with the blade his scarlet crest. But soon, Lynceus making at his left knee, Castor back with his left foot and had off his fingers, so that his falchion dropped to the ground and he went scurrying towards his father’s grave, where stout Idas lay watching the kindred fray. Howbeit the son of Tyndareüs was after him in a trice and drave his good sword clean through flank and navel, so that he bowels were presently scattered upon his face, and lo! there sped down upon his eyelids profoundest sleep.
οὐ μὰν οὐδὲ τὸν ἄλλον ἐφ᾽ ἑστίῃ εἶδε πατρῴῃ 205
παίδων Λαοκόωσσα φίλον γάμον ἐκτελέσαντα.
ἦ γὰρ ὅγε στήλην ᾿Αφαρηίου ἐξανέχουσαν
τύμβου ἀναρρήξας ταχέως Μεσσήνιος ῎Ιδας
μέλλε κασιγνήτοιο βαλεῖν σφετέροιο φονῆα:
ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς ἐπάμυνε, χερῶν δέ οἱ ἔκβαλε τυκτὴν 210
μάρμαρον, αὐτὸν δὲ φλογέῳ συνέφλεξε κεραυνῷ.
οὕτως Τυνδαρίδαις πολεμιζέμεν οὐκ ἐν ἐλαφρῷ.
αὐτοί τε κρατέοντε καὶ ἐκ κρατέοντος ἔφυσαν.
[205] But neither was the other of Laocoösa’s children to be seen of his mother a wedded man at the hearth of his fathers. For Idas of Messenè, he up with the standing stone from the grave of Aphareus and would have hurled it upon the slayer of his brother, but Zeus was Castor’s defence, and made the wrought marble to fall from his enemy’s hands; for the consumed him with the flame of his levin-bolt. Ah! ’tis no child’s-play to fight with the sons of Tyndareus; they prevail even as he that begat them prevaileth.
χαίρετε Λήδας τέκνα, καὶ ἡμετέροις κλέος ὕμνοις
ἐσθλὸν ἀεὶ πέμποιτε: φίλοι δέ τε πάντες ἀοιδοὶ 215
Τυνδαρίδαις ῾Ελένῃ τε καὶ ἄλλοις ἡρώεσσιν,
῎Ιλιον οἳ διέπερσαν ἀρήγοντες Μενελάῳ.
ὑμῖν κῦδος ἄνακτες ἐμήσατο Χῖος ἀοιδός,
ὑμνήσας Πριάμοιο πόλιν καὶ νῆας ᾿Αχαιῶν
᾿Ιλιάδας τε μάχας ᾿Αχιλῆά τε πύργον ἀυτῆς: 220
ὑμῖν αὖ καὶ ἐγὼ λιγεῶν μειλίγματα Μουσέων,
οἷ᾽ αὐταὶ παρέχουσι καὶ ὡς ἐμὸς οἶκος ὑπάρχει,
τοῖα φέρω. γεράων δὲ θεοῖς κάλλιστον ἀοιδαί.
[214] Fare you well, ye children of Leda; we pray you may ever send our hymns a goodly fame. For all singers are dear unto the sons of Tyndareus and unto Helen and unto other the heroes who were Menelaüs’ helpfellows at the sacking of Troy. Your renown, O ye princes, is the work of the singer of Chios, when he sang of Priam’s town and of the Achaean ships, of Trojan frays and of that tower of the war-cry Achilles; and here do I also bring your souls such offerings of propitiation as the melodious Muses do provide and my household is able to afford. And of all a god’s prerogatives song is the fairest.
IDYLL XXIII. ἐραστής
IDYLL XXIII. THE LOVER
This poem, known to the Latin poets, cannot be ascribed to Theocritus. It was apparently sent by a lover to his neglectful beloved. The author tells how in a like case unrequited friendship led to the suicide of the one, and to the death of the other at the hands of an effigy of Love. The actual death of a boy through the accidental falling of a statue probably gave rise to a folk-tale which is here put into literary shape.
᾿Ανήρ τις πολύφιλτρος ἀπηνέος ἤρατ᾽ ἐφάβω,
τὰν μορφὰν ἀγαθῶ, τὸν δὲ τρόπον οὐκέθ᾽ ὁμοίω.
μίσει τὸν φιλέοντα καὶ οὐδὲ ἓν ἅμερον εἶχε,
κοὐκ ᾔδει τὸν ῎Ερωτα, τίς ἦν θεός, ἡλίκα τόξα
χερσὶ κρατεῖ, πῶς πικρὰ βέλη ποτικάρδια βάλλει: 5
πάντα δὲ κἠν μύθοισι καὶ ἐν προσόδοισιν ἀτειρής.
οὐδέ τι τῶν πυρσῶν παραμύθιον, οὐκ ἀμάρυγμα
χείλεος, οὐκ ὄσσων λιπαρὸν σέλας, οὐ ῥοδόμαλον,
οὐ λόγος, οὐχὶ φίλαμα, τὸ κουφίζει τὸν ἔρωτα.
οἷα δὲ θὴρ ὑλαῖος ὑποπτεύῃσι κυναγώς, 10
οὕτως πάντ᾽ ἐποίει ποτὶ τὸν φίλον: ἄγρια δ᾽ αὐτῷ
χείλεα καὶ κῶραι δεινὸν βλέπος: εἶχε γὰρ ὄγκον:
τᾷ δὲ χολᾷ τὸ πρόσωπον ἀμείβετο, φεῦγε δ᾽ ἀπὸ χρὼς
ὕβριν τᾶς ὀργᾶς περικείμενος. ἀλλὰ καὶ οὕτως
ἦν καλός: ἐξ ὀργᾶς ἐρεθίζετο μᾶλλον ἐραστάς. 15
[1] There was once a heart-sick swain had a cruel fere, the face of the fere goodly but his ways not like to it; for he hated him that loved him, and had for him never a whit of kindness, and as for Love, what manner of god he might be or what manner of boy and arrows carry, or how keen and bitter were the shafts he shot for his delectation, these things wist he not at all, but both in his talk and conversation knew no yielding. And he gave no comfort against those burning fires, not a twist of his lip, not a flash of his eye, not the gift of a hip from the hedgerow, not a word, not a kiss, to lighten the load of desire. But he eyed every man even as a beast of the field that suspects the hunter, and his lips were hard and cruel and his eyes looked the dread look of fate. Indeed his angry humour made change of his face, and the colour of his cheeks fled away because he was fair to view; his wrath s
erved only to prick the lover more.
λοίσθιον οὐκ ἤνεικε τόσαν φλόγα τᾶς Κυθερείας,
ἀλλ᾽ ἐλθὼν ἔκλαιε ποτὶ στυγνοῖσι μελάθροις,
καὶ κύσε τὰν φλιάν, οὕτω δ᾽ ἀνενείκατο φωνάν:
‘῎Αγριε παῖ καὶ στυγνέ, κακᾶς ἀνάθρεμμα λεαίνας,
λάινε παῖ καὶ ἔρωτος ἀνάξιε, δῶρά τοι ἦλθον 20
λοίσθια ταῦτα φέρων, τὸν ἐμὸν βρόχον: οὐκέτι πὰρ σὲ
κῶρ᾽ ἐθέλω λύπης κεχολωμένος, ἀλλὰ βαδίζω,
ἔνθα τύ μευ κατέκρινας, ὅπῃ λόγος ἦμεν ἀταρπὸν
ξυνάν, τοῖσιν ἐρῶσι τὸ φάρμακον ἔνθα τὸ λᾶθος.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἢν ὅλον αὐτὸ λαβὼν ποτὶ χεῖλος ἀμέλξω, 25
[16] At last the poor man would bear no more so fierce a flame of the Cytherean, but went and wept before that sullen house, and kissed the doorpost of it, and lifted up his voice saying “O cruel, O sullen child, that wast nursed of an evil she-lion; O boy of stone which art all unworthy to be loved; lo! here am I come with the last of my gifts, even this my halter. No longer will I vex you with the sight of me; but here go I whither you have condemned me, where they say that path lies all lovers must travel, where is the sweet physic of oblivion. Yet if so be I take and drink that physic up, every drop, yet shall I not quench the fever of my desire.
