Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom
Page 48
And yet what kind of human beings do you think they are for whom freedom is not advantageous? “None, by Zeus,” someone says, “for freedom is by nature advantageous. For do not other cities also have singing, aye, by Zeus, and flute-playing and foot-racing and all those other entertainments that are found, not only here in Alexandria, but among certain other people too?” Aye, but nowhere is there such a passion for that sort of thing, such a mad desire, as with yourselves. [52] For example, you know that the Rhodians, your near neighbours, enjoy freedom and complete independence of action; however, in Rhodes even running within the city limits is held not to be respectable, but, on the contrary, they even reprove strangers for being careless in their walk. So it is with good reason that the Rhodians should enjoy fair renown and universal honour. For since they are the first to show respect to themselves and to refrain from any foolish act, it is with good reason, I believe, that they have the respect of men in general and of their teachers as well.
The fact is, we shall find that in most other matters too the wise engage in the same activities as the foolish, such as eating, walking, playing, attending the theatre and the games. [53] For nature compels them to have many needs in common with the foolish; there are, however, differences of behaviour in all these matters. Take feasting as the first instance: whereas the wise behave neither boorishly nor regardless of decorum, but with elegance combined with courtesy, as men beginning a joyous feast and not a drunken debauch, being gracious toward their companions, not subjecting them to effrontery; the foolish, on the other hand, behave disgustingly and without restraint, giving vent to anger or to laughter with shouts and disorder, trying to get more than their companions, not inviting them to partake, and finally, before leaving for home, either they have done some damage to their fellow banqueters or received damage themselves, as we are told was the case at the party once held by the Centaurs.
[54] And yet why run through all the other differences one by one? But just take walking, for example, an activity common to all men and surely a simple one. One man’s gait reveals the composure of his nature and the attention he gives to his conduct, while that of another reveals his confusion of mind and his shamelessness: he is hurried as he approaches, talks as he walks, or bursts in and jostles someone, comes to blows with someone else. Similarly also with reference to the theatre: some persons are insatiate and greedy and all aflutter over everything alike, however commonplace, but others participate in the spectacle decorously and in peace. [55] But not so with you; on the contrary, you sit dumbfounded, you leap up more violently than the hired dancers, you are made tense with excitement by the songs: for while other people are moved to song and dance by drink with you the opposite is true — song is the occasion of drunkenness and frenzy. So while wine’s natural effect is as we have seen, producing inability to preserve one’s self-control, but on the contrary forcing those who use it stupidly and in excess to commit many distasteful acts, yet men intoxicated by song and in far worse condition than those who are crazed by wine — and what is more, at the very start and not by easy stages as at a drinking party — such men, I say, are to be found nowhere but in Alexandria. [56] Among certain barbarians, it is true, we are told that a mild kind of intoxication is produced by the fumes of certain incense when burned. After inhaling it they are joyful and get up and laugh, and behave in all respects like men who have been drinking, and yet without doing injury to one another; but of the Greeks you alone reach that state through ears and voice, and you talk more foolishly than do those barbarians, and you stagger worse and are more like men suffering the after-effects of a debauch.
And yet the arts of the Muses and Apollo are kindly and pleasing. For Apollo is addressed as Healer and as Averter-of-Evil, in the belief that he turns men aside from misfortune and implants health in soul and body, not sickness or madness; and the Muses are called maidens, implying their modesty and their chastity. [57] Furthermore, music is believed to have been invented by men for the healing of their emotions, and especially for transforming souls which are in a harsh and savage state. That is why even some philosophers attune themselves to the lyre at dawn, thereby striving to quell the confusion caused by their dreams. And it is with song that we sacrifice to the gods, for the purpose of insuring order and stability in ourselves. And there is, moreover, a different type of song, accompanied by the flute, that is employed at time of mourning, as men attempt, no doubt, to heal the harshness and the relentlessness of their grief and to mitigate the pain by means of song, song that operates scarce noticed amid lament, just as physicians, by bathing and softening wounds that are inflamed, remove the pain.
[58] And the spell of music has been deemed no less appropriate also in social gatherings, because it brings harmony and order spontaneously into the soul and along with a kindred influence abates the unsteadiness that comes from delight in wine — I mean that very influence blended with which the unsteadiness itself is brought into tune and tempered to moderation. All this, of course, in the present instance has been reversed and changed to its opposite. For it is not by the Muses but by a kind of Corybantes that you are possessed, and you lend credibility to the mythologizings of the poets, since they do indeed bring upon the scene creatures called Bacchants, who have been maddened by song, and Satyrs too. No doubt in your case the fawn-skin and the thyrsus are lacking, nor do you, like the Bacchants, bear lions in your arms; yet in all else you do appear to me to be quite comparable to Nymphs and Satyrs. [59] For you are always in merry mood, fond of laughter, fond of dancing; only in your case when you are thirsty wine does not bubble up of its own accord from some chance rock or glen, nor can you so readily get milk and honey by scratching the ground with the tips of your fingers; on the contrary, not even water comes to you in Alexandria of its own accord, nor is bread yours to command, I fancy, but that too you receive from the hand of those who are above you; and so perhaps it is high time for you to cease your Bacchic revels and instead to turn your attention to yourselves. But at present, if you merely hear the twang of the harp-string, as if you had heard the call of a bugle, you can no longer keep the peace.
[60] Surely it is not the Spartans you are imitating, is it? It is said, you know, that in olden days they made war to the accompaniment of the pipe; but your warfare is to the accompaniment of the harp. Or do you desire — for I myself have compared king with commons do you, I ask, desire to be thought afflicted with the same disease as Nero? Why, not even he profited by his intimate acquaintance with music and his devotion to it. And how much better it would be to imitate the present ruler in his devotion to culture and reason! Will you not discard that disgraceful and immoderate craving for notoriety? Will you not be cautious about poking fun at everybody else, and, what is more, before persons who, if I may say so, have nothing great or wonderful to boast of? [61] For if an Ismenias were piping in your presence or à Timotheus of early times were singing or an Arion, at whose song, according to tradition, the dolphins in the deep flocked to his ship and afterwards, when he had plunged overboard, rescued him by lucky chance and brought him safe ashore — if those artists were performing for you, what would be your state of mind? For among these performers here there is no Amphion and no Orpheus either; for Orpheus was the son of a Muse, but these are unmusical offspring of Disharmony herself, having perverted and shattered the majesty of song and in every way outraged the grand old art of the Muses.
[62] For who of the lot can produce a finished song or a noble rhythm? Nay, it is a potpourri of effeminate ditties and music-hall strummings of the lyre and the drunken excesses of monsters which, like villainous cooks with an itch for novelty, they mash together to form their arias and thus excite an ignorant and avid audience. Accordingly not from swans or nightingales has their passion got its name with you, but rather, as it seems, you liken it to the whining and howling of dogs; and yet, while I knew that there are philosophers called Cynics, harpists of that canine breed have been produced in Alexandria alone. So while Amphion to the ac
companiment of his melody, according to the tale, built the walls and towers of his city, these creatures are engaged in the work of overturning and destroying. And as for Orpheus, by his song he tamed the savage beasts and made them sensitive to harmony; yet these performers here have turned you human beings into savages and made you insensible to culture.
[63] And I have, furthermore, a story to tell that I heard from a Phrygian, a kinsman of Aesop’s, who paid a visit here, a story that he told about Orpheus and yourselves. However, that story is more weird and lengthier than your jokes. Consider, therefore, if you wish to hear it, and don’t be vexed if I tell it. Well then, the man from Phrygia said that Orpheus sang his songs throughout Thrace and Macedonia, as we have been told, and that the creatures there came up to him — a great company, I imagine, of all the animals. “And,” he continued, “most numerous among them were the birds and the sheep. [64] For the lions and other animals of that sort were more distrustful because of their strength and savage nature, and so would not even come near him, while others immediately withdrew, not being pleased with the music; but the feathered creatures and the sheep not only came to him more readily but also did not leave him afterwards — the sheep, no doubt, because of their guilelessness and fondness for human society, while the birds, of course, are a musical tribe themselves and fond of song. So then, as long as Orpheus was alive they followed him from every quarter, listening as they fed — for indeed he spent his time for the most part on the mountains and about the glens; but when he died, in their desolation they wailed and were distressed; and so it came about that the mother of Orpheus, Calliopê, because of her goodwill and affection toward her son, begged Zeus to change their bodies into human form; yet their souls remained as they had been before.”
[65] Well, the remainder of the tale from this point on is painful and I am reluctant to tell it to you in plain language. For the Phrygian went on to say that from those wild creatures whom Zeus transformed a tribe of Macedonians was born, and that it was this tribe which at a later time crossed over with Alexander and settled here. He added that this is the reason why the people of Alexandria are carried away by song as no other people are, and that if they hear music of the lyre, however bad, they lose their senses and are all aquiver in memory of Orpheus. And he said that they are giddy and foolish in behaviour, coming as they do from such a stock, since the other Macedonians certainly have shown themselves to be manly and martial and steadfast of character.
[66] The Phrygian also spoke regarding the harpists of your city about as follows: He said that in their association with Orpheus the other animals merely experienced pleasure and wonder but made no attempt at imitation; but that some of the dogs, being of course a shameless and inquisitive bred, applied themselves to music and then and there began to practice it, going off by themselves, and that after they had been changed to human form they maintained their addiction to the art. And he declared that this very breed is the stock from which the harpists sprang; therefore they have been unable wholly to slough off their own nature, but, while retaining some small part of the instruction derived from Orpheus, for the most part their music has remained canine in character.
[67] All this the Phrygian spoke in jest. But I want to tell you something that happened at Sparta, how the people of that land behaved toward a harpist who was much in vogue among the Greeks in those days. Just because this harpist had the reputation of being very charming and unusual, they did not, by Zeus, honour him, but instead they took his harp from him, cut away the strings, and ordered him to leave their city. Such, you see, were the misgivings the Spartans entertained regarding his calling and such the care they took of their ears, lest their hearing be corrupted or become more fastidious than was fitting; but you have been thus ignominiously enslaved by that kind of pleasure.
[68] And through your influence, it would seem, the disease is already affecting, not only public speakers, but some philosophers as well — though it would be more correct to say that public speakers are no longer easy to recognize. For since they observe your interest in singing and your passion for it, they all sing now, public speakers as well as sophists, and everything is done to music; if you were to pass a courtroom, you could not easily decide whether a drinking-party was in progress or a trial; and if there is in your neighbourhood a sophist’s lecture-room, you will be unable to distinguish the lecture. And in my opinion people will presently go so far as to use song to accompany their exercise in the gymnasium, yes, even to heal the sick. For even now, when physicians discourse to you on their art, they chant.
[69] But in all likelihood life with you has become, one may almost say, just one continuous revel, not a sweet or gentle revel either, but savage and harsh, a revel of dancers, whistlers, and murderers all combined. But the Spartans were vastly different from you Alexandrians, for they were cautious in these matters, as I have said. For while they showed capacity to rule, having held the leadership in Greece for many years and being always victorious over the barbarians without exception, you do not understand even how to be good subjects. Therefore, if you had not been fortunate in your present leaders, hardly, I fancy, would your existence be secure. [70] As evidence I cite the most recent chapters in your history. For instance, when you were still independent, did not your king busy himself with piping and concentrate on that alone; and were you not on hostile terms with him and torn with faction among yourselves, each faction separately and independently working the ruin of the state — Simaristoi and other parties of like names — in consequence of which you forced your king to flee, and later on to obtain his return by means of war, and with the aid of Romans, too? And finally he with his piping and you with your dancing destroyed the state. [71] And though you now have such reasonable men as governors, you have brought them to a feeling of suspicion toward themselves, and so they have come to believe that there is need of more careful watchfulness than formerly; and this you have brought about through arrogance and not through plotting. For would you revolt from anybody? Would you wage war a single day? Is it not true that in the disturbance which took place the majority went only as far as jeering in their show of courage, while only a few, after one or two shots with anything at hand, like people drenching passers-by with slops, quickly lay down and began to sing, and some went to fetch garlands, as if on their way to a drinking party at some festival?
[72] And surely you recall that comical incident — how the excellent Conon treated you when, advancing to the place where your forces were most concentrated and pointing out a little stretch of ground, he declared: “If I can get there myself, I am the victor, and you must depart by yourselves and leave the field; but if you,” said he, “can win your way as much as four or five steps, I will take a walk myself.” This he said out of a desire to spare you, laughing at you and playing with you as if you were children; since the army had halted and he would not permit a single soldier to lay hands on you, seeing, as he did, that you all were unarmed and faced with destruction. What then? Force was next employed by the headstrong and unruly spirits, who purposely aimed at a complete overthrow and utter chaos, and they did not let you go until you had had a taste of warfare, and what you formerly had dreaded had become a matter of bitter experience.
[73] Why, then, have I mentioned these events also? Because I wanted you to understand the natural outcome of this disorderliness that rules your lives. For it is not possible that those who get so excited over trifles and things of no importance, those who behave so thoughtlessly and with such lack of self-control in these matters of daily life, should be temperate in other matters and competent to plan wisely regarding things of greater moment. For the frivolity of your conduct and your lack of reason do not permit you to call a halt at things of minor importance, and the folly of your misconduct knows no bounds, but instead goes right on to any length without discrimination, and touches everything with equal recklessness. [74] So do not think that a man is dealing with trifles when he speaks to your about your disorders in t
he theatre. For poverty follows quickly enough from gradual losses, but not as quickly as wickedness progresses from these successive errors, until finally, having attained its growth, it brings men to the very end — destruction.
So much, then, on the subject of the theatre. However, when you enter the stadium, who could describe the shouts you utter there, and your hubbub and anguish and bodily contortions and change of colour, and the many awful curses that you emit? For if you were not merely watching the horses race — and horses, too, that are used to racing — but were yourselves being driven by the whips of tragedy, you would not exhibit the agony you do. [75] Why even Ixion himself, methinks, you show to have been a second-rater, the Ixion who is represented by the poets as bound on the wheel and punished for some such impiety as yours. Well then, if in the midst of it all some god should take his stand beside you and in a loud voice should say:
“Fools, you are mad; no more your spirit hides
Your food and drink.
Why are you so violently disturbed? What is the excitement? What the contest? For it is not Pelops who is driving, or Oenomaüs, or Myrtilus, nor is it a question of a kingship or a wife or a death that hangs in the balance, nay, it is only a contest of slaves for a paltry bit of silver, slaves who sometimes are defeated and sometimes victorious, but slaves in any case.” [76] If the god should speak thus, what would your reply be? Or is it clear that you would not even listen at such a moment as that, not even if the grandsire of Pelops were himself the speaker?
What succour, then, can one find, or what divine power must one propitiate? There is at Olympia, at the centre of the race-course, an altar to Poseidon Taraxippos, or Terror of Horses, on the spot where it happened that the horses most frequently became frightened and where many chariots were smashed. So the Eleans decided to erect an altar on the spot, believing that some deity was there. And from that time forward, they say, the place has been safe. [77] Well then, much more earnestly do I advise you to propitiate this god and raise an altar of the same kind, not, by Zeus, for the sake of the horses, but rather for the sake of yourselves, so that you may not be terrorized yourselves or be pitched headlong from your proper station. For perhaps all such disasters are the work of a deity, requiring unusual efforts to avert. It is said that an ancient Cretan queen, one of the daughters of Helius, became enamoured of a bull, and that after union with him she brought forth a savage, mighty monster. So I myself am apprehensive lest this passion for horses that infects the city may in time bring forth some strange and distressing offspring for you. [78] They say also that at Athens this very species that you so much admire became the object of infatuation, and today there is in that city a site that bears the name, Sanctuary of Horse and Maiden. For the maiden’s father confined his daughter along with the horse, and thus, they say, she was ruined. [79] And do you beware lest you also through a passion like that be destroyed.