Delphi Complete Works of Lucian

by Lucian Samosata

  ‘His words revolted me. I loathed the thought of such ingenious cruelty, and resolved to punish the artificer in kind. “If this is anything more than an empty boast, Perilaus,” I said to him, “if your art can really produce this effect, get inside yourself, and pretend to roar; and we will see whether the pipes will make such music as you describe.” He consented; and when he was inside I closed the aperture, and ordered a fire to be kindled. “Receive,” I cried, “the due reward of your wondrous art: let the music-master be the first to play.” Thus did his ingenuity meet with its deserts. But lest the offering should be polluted by his death, I caused him to be removed while he was yet alive, and his body to be flung dishonoured from the cliffs. The bull, after due purification, I sent as an offering to your God, with an inscription upon it, setting forth all the circumstances; the names of the donor and of the artist, the evil design of the latter, and the righteous sentence which condemned him to illustrate by his own agonized shrieks the efficacy of his musical device.

  ‘And now, men of Delphi, you will be doing me no more than justice, if you join my ambassadors in making sacrifice on my behalf, and set up the bull in a conspicuous part of the temple; that all men may know what is my attitude towards evil-doers, and in what manner I chastise their inordinate craving after wickedness. Herein is a sufficient indication of my character: Perilaus punished, the bull consecrated, not reserved for the bellowings of other victims. The first and last melody that issued from those pipes was wrung from their artificer; that one experiment made, the harsh, inhuman notes are silenced for ever. So much for the present offering, which will be followed by many others, so soon as the God vouchsafes me a respite from my work of chastisement.’

  Such was the message of Phalaris; and his statement is in strict accordance with the facts. You may safely accept our testimony, as we are acquainted with the circumstances, and can have no object in deceiving you on the present occasion. Must entreaty be added? Then on behalf of one whose character has been misrepresented, and whose severities were forced upon him against his will, we implore you, — we who are Agrigentines, Greeks like yourselves and of Dorian origin — to accept his offer of friendship, and not to thwart his benevolent intentions towards your community and the individuals of which it is composed. Take the bull into your keeping; consecrate it; and offer up your prayers on behalf of Agrigentum and of Phalaris. Suffer us not to have come hither in vain: repulse not our master with scorn: nor deprive the God of an offering whose intrinsic beauty is only equalled by its righteous associations.

  PHALARIS 2 — Φάλαρις Β

  Translated by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler

  PHALARIS, II

  Men of Delphi: I stand in no public relation to the city of Agrigentum, in no private relation to its ruler; I am bound to him neither by gratitude for past favours, nor by the prospect of future friendship: but I have heard the just and temperate plea advanced by his emissaries, and I rise to advocate the claims of religion, the interests of our community, the duties of the priesthood; I charge you, thwart not the pious intention of a mighty prince, nor deprive the God of an offering which in the intention of the donor is already his, and which is destined to serve as an eternal threefold record, — of the sculptor’s art, of inventive cruelty, and of righteous retribution. To me it seems that only to have raised this question, only to have halted between acceptance and rejection, is in itself an offence against Heaven; nay, a glaring impiety. For what is this but a sacrilege more heinous than that of the temple-robber, who does but plunder those sacred things to which you would even deny consecration? I implore you, — your fellow priest, your partner in good report (if so it may be), or in evil (should that now befall us), implores you: close not the temple-doors upon the devout worshipper; suffer us not to be known to the world as men who examine jealously into the offerings that are brought, and subject the donor to the narrow scrutiny of a court, and to the hazard of a vote. For who would not be deterred at the thought that the God accepts no offering without the previous sanction of his priests?

  Already Apollo has declared his true opinion. Had he hated Phalaris, or scorned his gift, it had been easy for him to sink the gift and the ship that bore it in mid-ocean; instead, we learn that he vouchsafed them a calm passage and a safe arrival at Cirrha. Clearly the monarch’s piety is acceptable in his sight. It behoves you to confirm his decision, and to add this bull to the glories of the temple. Strange indeed, if the sender of so magnificent a gift is to meet with rejection at the temple-door, and his piety to be rewarded with the judgement that his offering is unclean.

  My opponent tells a harrowing tale of butchery and violence, of plunder and abduction; it is much that he does not call himself an eyewitness thereof; we might suppose that he was but newly arrived from Agrigentum, did we not know that his travels have never carried him on board ship. In matters of this kind, it is not advisable to place much reliance even on the assertions of the supposed victims; there is no knowing how far they are speaking the truth; — as to bringing allegations ourselves, when we know nothing of the facts, that is out of the question. Granting even that something of the kind did happen, it happened in Sicily: we are at Delphi; we are not called upon to interfere. Do we propose to abandon the temple for the law-court? Are we, whose office it is to sacrifice, and minister to the God, and receive his offerings, — are we to sit here debating whether certain cities on the other side of the Ionian sea are well or ill governed? Let other men’s affairs be as they may, it is our business, as I take it, to know our own: our past history, our present situation, our best interests. We need not wait for Homer to inform us that we inhabit a land of crags, and are tillers of a rocky soil; our eyes tell us that; if we depended on our soil, we must go hungry all our days. Apollo; his temple; his oracle; his worshippers; his sacrifices; — these are the fields of the Delphians, these their revenues, their wealth, their maintenance. I can speak the truth here. It is as the poets say: we sow not, we plough not, yet all things grow for our use; for a God is our husbandman, and gives us not the good things of Greece only; all that Phrygia, all that Lydia, all that Persia, Assyria, Phoenicia, Italy, and the far North can yield, — all comes to Delphi. We live in prosperity and plenty; in the esteem of mankind we are second to none but the God himself. So it was in the beginning: so it is now: and so may it ever be!

  But who has ever heard before of our putting an offering to the vote, or hindering men from paying sacrifice? No one; and herein, as I maintain, is the secret of our temple’s greatness, and of the abundant wealth of its offerings. Then let us have no innovations now, no new-fangled institutions, no inquiries into the origin and nature and nationality and pedigree of a gift; let us take what is brought to us, and set it in the store-chamber without more ado. In this way we shall best serve both the God and his worshippers. I think it would be well if, before you deliberate further on the question before you, you would consider how great and how various are the issues involved. There is the God, his temple, his sacrifices and offerings, the ancient customs and ordinances, the reputation of the oracle; again, our city as a whole, our common interests, and those of every individual Delphian among us; lastly — and I know not what consideration could seem of more vital importance to a well-judging mind — , our own credit or discredit with the world at large.

  I say, then, we have to deal not with Phalaris, not with a single tyrant, not with this bull, not with so much weight of bronze, — but with every king and prince who frequents our temple at this day; with gold and silver and all the precious offerings that should pour in upon the God; that God whose interests claim our first attention. Say, why should we change the old-established usage in regard to offerings? What fault have we to find with the ancient custom, that we should propose innovations? Never yet, from the day when Delphi was first inhabited, and Apollo prophesied, and the tripod gave utterance, and the priestess was inspired, never yet have the bringers of gifts been subjected to scrutiny. And shall they now? Consider how t
he ancient custom, which granted free access to all men, has filled the temple with treasures; how all men have brought their offerings, and how some have impoverished themselves to enrich the God. My mind misgives me that, when you have assumed the censorship of offerings, you will lack employment: men may refuse to submit themselves to your court; they may think it is enough to spend their money, without having to undergo the risk of a rejection for their pains. Would life be worth living, to the man who should be judged unworthy to offer sacrifice?

  HIPPIAS — Ἱππίας ἢ Βαλανεῖον

  Translated by A. M. Harmon

  HIPPIAS, OR THE BATH

  AMONG wise men, I maintain, the most praiseworthy are they who not only have spoken cleverly on their particular subjects, but have made their assertions good by doing things to match them. Take doctors, for instance: a man of sense, on falling ill, does not send for those who can talk about their profession best, but for those who have trained themselves to accomplish something in it. Likewise a musician who can himself play the lyre and the cithara is better, surely, than one who simply has a good ear for rhythm and harmony. And why need I tell you that the generals who have been rightly judged the best were good not only at marshalling their forces and addressing them, but at heading charges and at doughty deeds? Such, we know, were Agamemnon and Achilles of old, Alexander and Pyrrhus more recently.

  Why have I said all this? It was not out of an ill-timed desire to air my knowledge of history that I brought it up, but because the same thing is true of engineers — we ought to admire those who, though famous for knowledge, have yet left to later generations reminders and proofs of their practical skill, for men trained in words alone would better be called wiseacres than wise. Such an engineer we are told, was Archimedes, and also Sostratus of Cnidus. The latter took Memphis for Ptolemy without a siege by turning the river aside and dividing it; the former burned the ships of the enemy by means of his science. And before their time Thales of Miletus, who had promised Croesus to set his army across the Halys dryshod, thanks to his ingenuity brought the river round behind the camp in a single night. Yet he was not an engineer: he was wise, however, and very able at devising plans and grasping problems. As for the case of Epeius, it is prehistoric: he is said not only to have made the wooden horse for the Achaeans but to have gone into it along with them.

  Among these men Hippias, our own contemporary, deserves mention. Not only is he trained as highly in the art of speech as any of his predecessors, and alike quick of comprehension and clear in exposition, but he is better at action than speech, and fulfils his professional promises, not merely doing so in those matters in which his predecessors succeeded in getting to the fore, but, as the geometricians put it, knowing how to construct a triangle accurately on a given base. Moreover, whereas each of the others marked off some one department of science and sought fame in it, making a name for himself in spite of this delimitation, he, on the contrary, is clearly a leader in harmony and music as well as in engineering and geometry, and yet he shows as great perfection in each of these fields as if he knew nothing else. It would take no little time to sing his praises in the doctrine of rays and reflexions and mirrors, or in astronomy, in which he made his predecessors appear children, but I shall not hesitate to speak of one of his achievements which I recently looked upon with wonder. Though the undertaking is a commonplace, and in our days a very frequent one, the construction of a bath, yet his thoughtfulness and intelligence even in this commonplace matter is marvellous.

  The site was not flat, but quite sloping and steep: it was extremely low on one side when he took it in hand, but he made the whole level, not only constructing a firm basis for the entire work and laying foundations to ensure the safety of the superstructure, but strengthening the whole with buttresses, very sheer and, for security’s sake, close together. The building suits the magnitude of the site, accords well with the correct proportions of such an establishment, and shows regard for the principles of lighting.

  The entrance is high, with a flight of broad steps of which the tread is greater than the pitch, to make them easy to ascend. On entering, one is received into a public hall of good size, with ample accommodations for servants and attendants. On the left are the lounging rooms, also of just the right sort for a bath, attractive, brightly lighted retreats. Then, beside them, a hall, larger than need be for the purposes of a bath, but necessary for the reception of the rich. Next, capacious locker-rooms to undress in, on each side, with a very high and brilliantly lighted hall between them, in which are three swimming-pools of cold water; it is finished in Laconian marble, and has two statues of white marble in the ancient technique, one of Hygieia, the other of Aesculapius.

  On leaving this hall, you come into another which is slightly warmed instead of meeting you at once with fierce heat; it is oblong, and has a recess at each side. Next it, on the right, is a very bright hall, nicely fitted up for massage, which has on each side an entrance decorated with Phrygian marble, and receives those who come in from the exercising-floor. Then near this is another hall, the most beautiful in the world, in which one can sit or stand with comfort, linger without danger and stroll about with profit. It also is refulgent with Phrygian marble clear to the roof. Next comes the hot corridor, faced with Numidian marble. The hall beyond it is very beautiful, full of abundant light and aglow with colour like that of purple hangings. It contains three hot tubs.

  When you have bathed, you need not go back through the same rooms, but can go directly to the cold room through a slightly warmed apartment. Everywhere there is copious illumination and full indoor daylight. Furthermore, the height of each room is just, and the breadth proportionate to the length; and everywhere great beauty and loveliness prevail, for in the words of noble Pindar, “Your work should have a glorious countenance.” This is probably due in the main to the light, the brightness and the windows. Hippias, being truly wise, built the room for cold baths to northward, though it does not lack a southern exposure; whereas he faced south, east, and west the rooms that require abundant heat. Why should I go on and tell you of the exercising-floors and of the cloakrooms, which have quick and direct communication with the hall containing the basin, so as to be convenient and to do away with all risk?

  Let no one suppose that I have taken an insignificant achievement as my theme, and purpose to ennoble it by my eloquence. It requires more than a little wisdom, in my opinion, to invent new manifestations of beauty in commonplace things, as did our marvellous Hippias in producing this work. It has all the good points of a bath — usefulness, convenience, light, good proportions, fitness to its site, and the fact that it can be used without risk. Moreover, it is beautified with all other marks of thoughtfulness — with two toilets, many exits, and two devices for telling time, a water-clock that bellows like a bull, and a sundial.

  For a man who has seen all this not to render the work its meed of praise is not only foolish but ungrateful, even malignant, it seems to me. I for my part have done what I could to do justice both to the work and to the man who planned and built it. If Heaven ever grants you the privilege of bathing there, I know that I shall have many who will join me in my words of praise.

  DIONYSUS — Διόνυσος

  Translated by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler

  DIONYSUS, AN INTRODUCTORY LECTURE

  When Dionysus invaded India — for I may tell you a Bacchic legend, may I not? — it is recorded that the natives so underrated him that his approach only amused them at first; or rather, his rashness filled them with compassion; he would so soon be trampled to death by their elephants, if he took the field against them. Their scouts had doubtless given them amazing details about his army: the rank and file were frantic mad women crowned with ivy, clad in fawn- skins, with little pikes that had no steel about them, but were ivy-wreathed like themselves, and toy bucklers that tinkled at a touch; they took the tambourines for shields, you see; and then there were a few bumpkins among them, stark naked, who dan
ced wildly, and had tails, and horns like a new-born kid’s.

  Their general, who rode on a car drawn by panthers, was quite beardless, with not even a vestige of fluff on his face, had horns, was crowned with grape-clusters, his hair tied with a fillet, his cloak purple, and his shoes of gold. Of his lieutenants, one was short, thick-set, paunchy, and flat-nosed, with great upright ears; he trembled perpetually, leant upon a narthex-wand, rode mostly upon an ass, wore saffron to his superior’s purple, and was a very suitable general of division for him. The other was a half-human hybrid, with hairy legs, horns, and flowing beard, passionate and quick-tempered; with a reed-pipe in his left hand, and waving a crooked staff in his right, he skipped round and round the host, a terror to the women, who let their dishevelled tresses fly abroad as he came, with cries of Evoe — the name of their lord, guessed the scouts. Their flocks had suffered, they added, the young had been seized alive and torn piecemeal by the women; they ate raw flesh, it seemed.