by Daisy Dunn
But his father, as he sought a view from the top of the citadel,
Spilt a flood of tears from his anxious eyes
As soon as he caught sight of the billowing sails,
And threw himself headlong from the top
Of the cliffs
Assuming Theseus lost to cruel fate.
So savage Theseus entered a household
Decked in mourning for his father’s death
And caught the same sort of grief
He had imposed on the daughter of Minos
Through the neglectfulness of his heart.
Then she, watching in her sorrow his ship
Disappearing, drifted from one worry
To another in her wounded heart.
But from another part of the cloth
Flew in vigorous Bacchus
With his throng of Satyrs and Silenes from Nysa,
Seeking you, Ariadne, burning in love for you.
His followers were raging all over, out of their wits,
‘Euhoe!’ bacchantes tossing their heads with cries ‘Euhoe!’
One section were shaking sticks with covered tips,
Another were hurling the limbs of a dismembered bullock,
Others were dressing themselves in plaits of snakes,
Others were gathering in worship of sacraments
Concealed in hollow baskets,
Rites which the profane long to hear, but in vain.
Others were patting drums with outstretched palms,
Or causing round cymbal tin to ring and ring,
Many had horns which blew booming booms
And the Phrygian flute shrieked in shrill song.
ALCIBIADES
Alcibiades
Cornelius Nepos
Translated by William Casey, 1828
Cornelius Nepos (c. 110 BC–c. 25 BC) was – like Catullus – born in the region of Verona, and worked in Rome. He was the dedicatee of Catullus’ poetry book and wrote a history of the world in three volumes, which no longer survives, as well as a series of biographies, Of Celebrated Men. His biography of Alcibiades is not as famous as that of Plutarch, who paralleled his life with that of Coriolanus, a Roman general of the fifth century BC, but it is succinct and captures the dangerous allure of its subject. Alcibiades was one of the most fascinating statesmen of ancient Athens. Born in around 450 BC, he was a ward of Pericles and became a close friend (some suggested more than a friend) of Socrates, whose life he was said to have saved in the Peloponnesian War. Cornelius Nepos reveals a typically Roman disapproval of Alcibiades’ indulgent relationships with men.
Alcibiades, the son of Clinias, seems to have been endowed by nature with all the gifts which it could lavish on his person. All writers agree that no one ever excelled him either in virtues or vices. Descended from one of the most illustrious families, born at a stately city, and one of the most comely youths of his age, he possessed an uncommon judgment, and displayed the greatest aptitude for any post. He was a skilful commander both by sea and land, and exhibited such a flow of easy eloquence, aided by the charms of his person, that his speech had an irresistible effect on all who heard him. He was patient and laborious as occasion required; liberal and splendid at home and abroad; affable and condescending in his actions, showing a wonderful address in his conformity to time and circumstance. In his moments of relaxation, and when disengaged from the pursuits of the mind, he was found prodigal and irregular, indulging all sort of luxury and debauchery to such a degree as astonished all on observing in the same person so great an unlikeness in his manners, and so great a difference in his nature.
Alcibiades was brought up in the house of Pericles, to whom he was said to be step-son, and was instructed under the tuition of Socrates. He married the daughter of Hipponicus, the greatest orator then in Greece; so that, had he given free scope to his imagination, he could not have wished for, nor obtained greater favours than those fortune and nature had bestowed on him. According to the customs of the Greeks, he was beloved in his tender age by numbers, and especially by Socrates, as Plato observes in his banquet (symposio), where this philosopher represents Alcibiades as having spent the whole night with Socrates, and as having left him like a child who quits his father’s side. At a ripe age he conceived a fondness himself for several others, on whom he played many odious tricks, though with as much delicacy and humour as the possibility of the thing allowed of, and which I should not omit mentioning, were I not engrossed by the recital of others of a more important and dignified nature.
In the Peloponnesian war, the Athenians were led by the counsels and authority of Alcibiades to commence hostilities against the Syracusians. He was appointed general, and to conduct the war he was joined by two of his colleagues Nicias and Lamachus. While the preparations for this expedition were going on, before the fleet had sailed, all the effigies of Mercury throughout Athens happened to be pulled down except that which stood before the gate of Andocides, from whence it was styled the Mercury of Andocides. As this event was obviously the prelude of some grand plot, since it closely concerned the republic at large, and not the aims of any particular rank of persons, it excited the astonishment, and awoke the fears of the citizens, lest by some violent and sudden accident they should be deprived of their liberty. As Alcibiades, by his power and exaltation, was now above private persons, all suspicions turned naturally on him. His liberalities had gained him a number of friends, but his eloquence in pleading for them at the bar, many more; so that, whenever he appeared in public, he drew all eyes on himself; nor could he be found a match in the whole city. His presence thus became at once an object of deep fears and sanguine hopes; it being in his power to be productive of great good or evil. His character was, moreover, stigmatized on the report spread of having celebrated the misteries of Ceres in his own house, which was a crime among the Athenians, who regarded such meetings as acts of conspiracy rather than of religion.
Alcibiades was charged with this offense by the public assemblies, at the same time that the war urged his departure; but as he was aware of the conduct of his fellow-citizens, he availed himself of that very circumstance, and desired that if they thought any thing was intended against him, they should inquire into the matter while he was present, to obviate the accusation of the envy to which he might be exposed during his absence. His enemies finding they could not now injure him, thought proper to remain quiet for the moment, and wait for his departure, in order to asperse him when absent. This was the case; for as soon as they judged he had reached Sicily, they called him to trial as a person guilty of sacrilegious acts. Wherefore, he was now arraigned by a decree before the magistrates, to appear again at the city and defend himself from the charges brought against him. Alcibiades, though he had entertained the strongest hopes of succeeding in the expedition, would not disobey, but mounted the galley sent to convey him back. When he arrived at Thurium, a port in Italy, after having duly considered the immoderate licentiousness of his fellow-citizens and their severe proceedings with the nobles, he thought the properest thing to be done, in order to free himself from the impending storm, was to elope; for which purpose, by eluding the vigilance of his guards, he fled to Elis, and after to Thebes.
On learning, therefore, he had been condemned to death; that his property had been sequestered and that the Eumolpides, constrained by the people, had curst him, as customary then, and, in fine, by way of perpetuating the memory of their malediction, a copy thereof had been engraved on a stone-pillar raised to public view; he sought refuge in Lacedemonia. There, as he himself used to say, he made war not on his country, but on his own and his country’s enemies, who had driven him out from a knowledge of the important services he was likely to render it; whilst they had only sought the gratification of private animosities, and not the object of public good. The Lacedemonians, by the advice of Alcibiades, entered into a league with the king of Persia; fortified Decelea, a town in Attica, and, by placing a garrison there on a permanent footing, kept Athen
s at bay. It was by his endeavours, too, that the alliance subsisting between the Ionians and Athenians, was broken off which circumstance proved highly advantageous to the Lacedemonians in their wars.
These signal services, however, far from inspiring the Lacedemonians with a greater fondness towards Alcibiades, only tended to augment their fears, and preclude their good will. As they were all sensible of the uncommon ability and prudence displayed by this great man in all matters, they now conceived apprehensions, lest the love of his country should induce him some day to abandon them, in case a reconciliation should be brought about between him and his fellow-citizens. Impressed with these ideas, the Lacedemonians now resolved to dispatch him when an opportunity should present itself. Alcibiades, whose penetration could baffle any attempt of surprise, when on his guard, soon saw through their designs, and fled for protection to Tissaphernes, one of Darius’ governors.
When he had acquired a thorough intimacy with this chief, and now saw the Athenian power reduced to a low ebb from their reverses in Sicily (whilst that of Sparta was on the rise), he opened an intercourse through the medium of commissioners with Pisander who then commanded an army near Samos, and to whom he expressed a wish of returning to Athens. Pisander was animated with the same sentiments as Alcibiades, an enemy to the overpower of the people, and an advocate for the nobles. Though he failed of success in that quarter, yet, through the influence of Thrasybulus, the son of Lycus, he was received in the army, and appointed to command at Samos, after which, and in consequence of the endeavours of Theramenes, he was recalled by an edict of the people, and invested, though yet absent, with as much authority as Thrasybulus and Theramenes themselves in the command of the army.
Under the directions of these generals affairs assumed so different an aspect, that the Lacedemonians who had hitherto proved victorious and powerful, were now intimidated to such a degree, that they sued for peace. They had now suffered five defeats by land, and three by sea, having lost in the latter two hundred thrireme gallies which fell into their enemy’s hands. Besides all this, Alcibiades, acting in conjunction with the other colleagues, had regained Ionia, the Hellespont and several other Grecian cities lying on the coast of Asia; in the recovery whereof, especially of Byzantium, he had recourse to arms; whilst the rest voluntarily surrendered on seeing the political lenity which had been used towards the vanquished. After these great exploits the three commanders returned to Athens, both they and the army being loaded with the rich spoils of conquest.
The whole city flocked down to the Piraeus to receive them; and such was the ardent desire of the people to behold Alcibiades, that his galley attracted the notice of all, as if he alone had only arrived; for he was deemed in public persuasion both as the cause of past mishaps and present success. The loss of Sicily and the victories gained by the enemy, were now imputed to their having banished a man of so much merit; nor did this appear an unjust reproach on their side, for the moment the command of the army was given to Alcibiades, the Lacedemonians were no longer able to cope with the Athenians either by sea or land.
Although Theramenes and Thrasybulus were equals in commanding the warlike operations; and had entered the Piraeus at the same time, yet when Alcibiades went on shore, he was followed by the crowd, and presented on all sides with gold and brazen crowns, an honour which had never been conferred before, except on victors at the Olympic games. Alcibiades, on receiving such testimonies of affection from the people, wept with joy when he called to mind the undeserved severity he had formerly experienced from his fellow-citizens.
IN THE BEGINNING
De Rerum Natura, Book V
Lucretius
Translated by Rev. John Selby Watson, 1880
The Greek philosopher Epicurus was adamant that humans should not fear death. The keenest proponent of his philosophy in first-century BC Rome, a poet named Lucretius (c. 99–c. 55 BC), sought to stamp out unhealthy ‘superstition’ by providing a more scientific explanation for things. In his De Rerum Natura (‘On The Nature Of Things’) we find references to atoms as well as to Venus. Lucretius did not reject the myths so much as use them for his own ends. His story of early mankind, extracted here, contains an explanation of evolution, but also of the softening of mortal bodies over time. There is a strong parallel with the ancient Greek myths that recount man’s decline from a pre-agricultural Golden Age to the Iron Age of the present day. Lucretius dedicated the poem to his patron, a politician named Gaius Memmius.
In the beginning, then, the earth spread over the hills the growth of herbs, and the beauty of verdure, and the flowery fields, throughout all regions, shone with a green hue; and then was given, to the various kinds of trees, full power of shooting upwards through the air. For as feathers, and hairs, and bristles, are first produced over the limbs of quadrupeds and the bodies of the winged tribes, so the new earth then first put forth herbs and trees; and afterwards generated the numerous races of animals, which arose in various forms and by various modes. For animals, that were to live on the earth, could assuredly neither have fallen from the sky, nor have come forth from the salt depths of the sea. It remains, therefore, to believe that the earth must justly have obtained the name of MOTHER, since from the earth all living creatures were born. And even now many animals spring forth from the earth, which are generated by means of moisture and the quickening heat of the sun. It is accordingly less wonderful, if, at that time, creatures more numerous and of larger size arose, and came to maturity while the earth and the air were yet fresh and vigorous.
First of all, the race of winged animals, and variegated birds, left their eggs, being excluded in the season of spring; as grasshoppers, in these days, spontaneously leave their thin coats in the summer, proceeding to seek sustenance and life.
Next, be assured, the earth produced, for the first time, the tribes of men and beasts; for much heat and moisture abounded through the plains, and hence, where any suitable region offered itself, a kind of wombs sprung up, adhering to the earth by fibres. These, when the age of the infants within them, at the season of maturity, had opened, (escaping from their moist-enclosure, and seeking for air,) nature, in those places, prepared the pores of the earth, and forced it to pour from its open veins a liquid like milk; just as every woman at present, when she has brought forth, is stored with sweet milk, because all the strength of the food is directed to the breasts. Thus the earth afforded nourishment to the infants; the warmth rendered a garment unnecessary; and the grass supplied a couch abounding with luxuriant and tender down.
But the early age of the world gave forth neither severe cold nor extraordinary heat, nor winds of impetuous violence. For all these alike increase and acquire strength by time.
For which cause, I say again and again, the earth has justly acquired, and justly retains, the name of MOTHER, since she herself brought forth the race of men, and produced, at this certain time, almost every kind of animal which exults over the vast mountains, and the birds of the air, at the same period, with all their varied forms. But because she must necessarily have some termination to bearing, she ceased, like a woman, exhausted by length of time. For lapse of time changes the nature of the whole world, and one condition after another must succeed to all things, nor does any being continue always like itself. All is unsettled; nature alters and impels every thing to change. For one thing decays, and, grown weak through age, languishes; another, again, grows up, and bursts forth from contempt. Thus age changes the nature of the whole world, and one condition after another falls upon the earth; so that what she could once bear she can bear no longer; while she can bear what she did not bear of old.
The earth, also, in that age, made efforts to produce various monsters, that sprung up with wonderful faces and limbs; the hermaphrodite, between both sexes, and not either, but removed from both; others wanting feet, and others destitute of hands; some also were found dumb for want of a mouth, and some blind without even a face; and others again were shackled by the cohesion of their limbs ove
r their whole bodies, so that they could neither do any thing, nor go in any direction; could neither avoid harm, nor take what was necessary to preserve life.
Other prodigies and portents of this kind she generated; but to no purpose; for nature abhorred and prevented their increase; nor could they reach the desired maturity of age, or find nutriment, or be united in the pleasures of love. For we see that many circumstances must concur with other circumstances, in order that living creatures may be able to produce their kinds by propagation. First it is necessary that there be food; then that there be genial semen throughout the organs, which may flow when the limbs are relaxed in union; and likewise, for the female to be united with the male, they must both have correspondent members, by which each may combine in mutual delight with the other.
Many kinds of animal life, too, must then have perished, not having been able to continue their species by propagation. For whatever creatures you see breathing the vital air, assuredly either craft, or courage, or at least activity, has preserved and defended their race from the commencement of its existence. And there are many which, from their usefulness to mankind, remain, as it were, intrusted to us, and committed to our guardianship.
In the first place, courage has protected the fierce brood of lions, and the savage races of other wild animals; and craft has secured the fox, as swiftness has saved the stag. But the light-slumbering breed of dogs, with their faithful affections, and all the various species of horses, and the woolly flocks, too, and horned cattle, all these, my dear Memmius, are committed to the protection of man. For they have anxiously avoided wild beasts, and have sought peace; and plenty of subsistence has been provided for them without labour of theirs, which subsistence we secure to them as a reward in return for their service. But of those to whom nature has given no such qualities, that they should either be able to live of themselves, or to afford us any service, why should we suffer the races to be maintained and protected by our support? Indeed all these, rendered helpless by their own fatal bonds, were exposed as a prey and a prize to other animals, until nature brought their whole species to destruction.
