375 to 325 ; his period almost exactly
coinciding
with that of the " Middle Comedy.
Universal Anthology - v04
]
Music — I speak not loath, for 'tis your part
To hear, and speaking glads my heart From Melanippides arose
My sorrows : he was first of those Who seizing me relaxed my wings, Giving a dozen slacker strings
For the old eleven ; yet, be sure,
He was a man I could endure
Compared with these, the last and worst. For one Cinesias, an accurst
Athenian, making discords vile
By sudden turns for novel style
In strophic endings, so destroyed me That in the verse where he employed me, His dithyrambs, like shields in fight You'd think the left side was the right. But even this you could not call
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Rough in comparison at all :
Phrynis came next, and, having thrown
A certain whirlwind of his own
To the front, with twists and turns of tone Ruined me quite, while on five strings
A dozen harmonies he rings.
Yet even he could be endured,
For his wrong-doing could be cured,
But, dearest, Timotheus, you see,
— Buried and foully murdered me.
Justice— Timotheus who ? Music
— Milesian.
A red-head low
Justice Music —
Has he harmed you so ? All that I tell you : I'm undone
By tortuous melodies that run
Along the strings like swarms of ants.
And if by any evil chance
Walking alone he ever meets me,
With the twelve strings he ties and beats me.
The Real "Old Times. "
Nobody then had male or female servants, —
No help at all, — and each had for himself
To execute all labors in the house :
Mornings with their own hands they ground the corn, The hamlet echoed as they thumped the mills.
Settling a Bore.
If a conceited donkey start to bray,
I'd answer him — " Don't have so much to say ! Be pleased to turn your mind and ears this way. "
The Feminine Toper.
A. I'm just out of the hot-bath, quite cooked through ; My throat's as dry —
B. I'll bring you something to drink. A. Dear me, my mouth is sticky with saliva.
B. How large a cup will satisfy you ?
A. Well,
Don't make it small : it always stirs my bile When I've drunk medicine from such a one ;
So have mine poured into a good-sized cup. . . .
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
A.
B. Isn't it watered ?
300
[The same topic elsewhere. ]
Then by the potters for the men were made
Broad cups that had no sides, but only bottoms,
Not holding a mussel-shellful — just like tasters ;
But for themselves [women] deep cups like merchant vessels Wine-ships, round, grasped by the middle, belly- shaped ; — Not thoughtlessly, but with long-sighted craft
How they could guzzle wine and give no reasons.
Then, when we charge that they've drunk up the wine,
They tongue us, swearing they have " drunk but one " ;
But that one's bigger than a thousand cups.
A Floral Invocation.
You with mallow sighings, hyacinthine breath, Honey-clover speeches, rose smiles for your mate,
Marjoram kisses, love-embraces in a parsley wreath, Tiger-lily laughter, larkspur gait, —
Pour the wine and raise the paean as the sacred laws dictate !
Plato ("Comiccs"). [Flourished B. C. 428-389. ]
On the Tomb of T/iemistocles.
By the sea's margin, on the watery strand, Thy monument, Themistocles, shall stand :
By this directed to thy native shore
The merchant shall convey his freighted store ; And when our fleets are summoned to the fight, Athens shall conquer with thy tomb in sight.
Epicureanism as its Enemies Fancy. Father —
Thou hast destroyed the morals of my son, And turned his mind, not so disposed, to vice,
Glyce, this isn't drinkable. A. Why, it's nothing but water.
What did you do, wretch ? B. Two parts, mamma. A.
B.
What did you pour in ? To how much wine ?
***#**##
Why, four. A. Go to the deuce ! You ought to mix for frogs.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 801
Unholy pedagogue! With morning drams,
A filthy custom which he caught from thee,
Far from his former practice, now he saps
His youthful vigor. Is it thus you school him ?
Sophist —
And if he did, what harms him ? Why complain you ? He does but follow what the wise prescribe,
The great voluptuous law of Epicurus,
Pleasure, the best of all good things of earth ;
And how but thus can pleasure be obtained ?
Father —
Virtue will give it him.
Sophist — And what but virtue Is our philosophy ? When have you met
One of our sect flushed and disguised with wine ? Or one, but one, of those you tax so roundly
On whom to fix a fault ?
Father — Not one, but all,
All who march forth with supercilious brow
High arched with pride, beating the city rounds, Like constables in quest of rogues and outlaws, To find that prodigy in human nature,
A wise and perfect man ! What is your science But kitchen science ? Wisely to descant
Upon the choice bits of a savory cup,
And prove by logic that his summum bonum
Lies in his head ; there you can lecture well,
And whilst your gray hairs wag, the gaping guest Sits wondering with a foolish face of praise.
Amipsias. [Contemporary of Aristophanes. ]
A. Best of a few, most trifling of a crowd
Are you here with us also, Socrates ?
You're a sturdy man : where did you get that cloak ?
B. This happened ill — the tailors stand a loss. A. Yet he, thus dirty, would not suffer flattery.
Strattis.
[Flourished about b. c. 410-380. ]
No one can bear To drink his wine hot ; on the contrary
It should be cooled in a well, or mixed with snow.
302
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Theopompus.
[Exhibited down to about b. c. 376. ]
Stop gambling, boy, and for the future eat
More vegetables. Your stomach's indurated :
I'd leave off eating oysters for the present ;
And furthermore, new wine's the best for counsel. If you do this, your fortunes will be easier.
Philonides.
[Date uncertain. ]
Because I hold the laws in due respect And fear to be unjust, am I a coward ? Meek let me be to all the friends of truth, And only terrible amongst its foes.
Polyzelus.
[Uncertain ; in this period. ]
Out of three evils before him, he has to make choice of one :
To drag the cross he'll be nailed to, drink hemlock, or scuttle and run From the ship, which will save him from such an evil reward : These are Theramenes' three, against which he wishes to guard
Demetbius.
[About b. c. 400. ]
The easiest thing to snare is villainy ; For, always working solely to its gain, With headlong folly it credits everything.
"MIDDLE COMEDY. " Antiphaotes.
[Of Smyrna or Rhodes ; began to exhibit about 383 b. c. One of the fore most poets of the " Middle Comedy " ; won thirty prizes. ]
On Women.
A. Ye foolish husbands, trick not out your wives ; Dress not their persons fine, but clothe their minds. Tell 'em your secrets ? — Tell 'em to the crier,
And make the market place your confidant !
B. Nay, but there's proper penalties for blabbing.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
A. What penalties ? they'll drive you out of them Summon your children into court, convene
Relations, friends, and neighbors to confront
And nonsuit your complaint, till in the end
Justice is hooted down, and quiet prevails. . . . For this, and only this, I'll trust a woman : That if you take life from her, she will die, And being dead she'll come to life no more ;
In all things else I am an infidel.
Oh ! might I never more behold a woman !
Rather than I should meet that object, gods,
Strike out my eyes — I'll thank you for your mercy.
A Different View of the Same.
The man who first laid down the pedant rule That love is folly, was himself the fool ;
For if to life that transport you deny,
What privilege is left us — but to die ?
The Unwelcomeness of Death.
Ah, good my master, you may sigh for death, And call in vain upon him to release you,
But will you bid him welcome when he comes ? Not you : old Charon has a stubborn task
To tug you to his wherry and dislodge you From your rich tables, when your hour is come.
I
A good, brisk, sweeping, epidemic plague : There's nothing else can make you all immortal.
muse the gods send not a plague amongst you,
Death's Inn.
Cease, mourners, cease complaint, and weep no more. Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, Advanced a stage or two upon that road
Which you must travel in the steps they trode ;
In the same inn we all shall meet at last, Then take new life and laugh at sorrows past.
The Parasite. [See also Eupolis. ]
What art, vocation, trade, or mystery
Can match with your fine parasite ? — The painter ?
FRAGMENTS OP GREEK COMIC POETS.
He ! a mere dauber ; a vile drudge the farmer : — Their business is to labor, ours to laugh,
To jeer, to quibble, faith, sirs ! and to drink, Aye, and drink lustily. Is not this rare ?
'Tis life — my life at least. The first of pleasures Were to be rich myself ; but next to this
I hold it best to be a parasite,
And feed upon the rich.
Now mark me right !
Set down my virtues one by one : imprimis, Good will to all men — would they were all rich So might I gull them all : malice to none ;
I envy no man's fortune — all I wish
Is but to share it. Would you have a friend,
A gallant steady friend ?
I
No striker I, no swaggerer, no defamer,
But one to bear all these, and still forbear :
If you insult, I laugh, unruffled, merry, Invincibly good-humored, still I laugh :
A stout good soldier I, valorous to a fault, When once my stomach's up and supper served. You know my humor — not one spark of pride, Such and the same forever to my friends.
If cudgeled, molten iron to the hammer
Is not so malleable ; but if I cudgel,
Bold as the thunder. Is one to be blinded ? I
I
am the lightning's flash : to be puffed up ?
am the wind to blow him to the bursting.
Cloaked, strangled ? I can do't and save a halter.
Would you break down his doors ? behold an earthquake; Open and enter them ? a battering-ram
Will you sit down to supper ? I'm your guest,
Your very fly to enter without bidding.
Would you move off ? You'll move a well as soon. — I'm for all work, and though the job were stabbing, Betraying, false-accusing, only say
" Do this," and it is done !
They call me Thunderbolt for my dispatch.
Friend of my friends am I. Let action speak me :
I'm much too modest to commend myself.
An honest man to law makes no resort : His conscience is the better rule of court.
am your man :
I stick at nothing
;
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Anaxandbides.
[A Hhodian ; began to exhibit B. C. 376. ]
Evils of Secrecy.
Sweet it When one has had new idea rise,
To blazon for they whose knowledge lies Sole in themselves, first, have no test in mind Of technic next, they are hated, for mankind Should be given all the freshest things we find.
Ruled by their Stomachs.
[These mock serious lines apparently relate to a still-life picture of
A. The lovely handiwork of portrait painters, Set on an easel, a thing to admire
But this ignobly comes from off platter, Swiftly evanished from a frying pan
305
his longing ends in marriage train of evils in one's life.
Sensibly,
It starts
For
He has
Of whom he's slave and hired man. If again He takes one bringing naught, he's twice slave For then there's two to feed instead of one.
One takes punk she's not worth living with, Nor bringing into home in any way.
Another takes beauty she belongs — As much to her husband's neighbor as to him. So that there's no way evils won't attend it.
vol. iv. —20
hired man take woman's riches, lady mistress, not wife,
fish. ]
B. But by what other handicraft, good sir,
Are young men's mouths so quickly set on fire,
Or fingers set to choke their owners, poking
If they're unable to swallow quick enough
Are not our parties solely made delightful
By the fish market What men dine together Without fry, or black perch that you buy,
Or sprats And then, as to the blooming boy, What charms or speeches can you catch him with, Tell me, you but take away the skill
Of the fisherman — for this how he's tamed, Vanquished by the cooked faces of the fishes.
The Croaker upon Marriage.
Whoever longs to marry, doesn't long
a
a:
?
is ? a
:
a a
if aa
a aifif? a
;it :
;
is
a :a
is,
?
!
a
;
806 FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
EUBULUS.
[Flourished from about b. c.
375 to 325 ; his period almost exactly coinciding with that of the " Middle Comedy. "]
Three cups of wine a prudent man may take : The first of these for constitution's sake ;
The second to the girl he loves the best ;
The third and last to lull him to his rest,
Then home to bed ! But if a fourth he pours, That is the cup of folly, and not ours ;
Loud, noisy talking on the fifth attends ;
The sixth breeds feuds and falling out of friends ; Seven beget blows and faces stained with gore ; Eight, and the watch patrol breaks ope the door ; Mad with the ninth, another cup goes round,
And the swilled sot drops senseless to the ground.
On a Painting of Love.
Why, foolish painter, give those wings to love ? Love is not light, as my sad heart can prove : Love hath no wings, or none that I can see ;
If he can fly, oh ! bid him fly from me !
Nicostratus.
[A son of Aristophanes. ]
An Ancient Wonderland Animal.
A. Is it a man-of-war, a swan, or a beetle ? When I have found out what, I'll undertake Any adventure.
B. Doubtless a swan-beetle.
A Health.
A. And I, beloved,
Pour out to you the stirrup-cup of health. Good health to you !
B. Well, here's to all good luck ! All mortal things are in luck's hands ; and foresight Is blind and helter-skelter, father dear.
If this incessant chattering be your plan, I would you were a swallow, not a man !
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 807
Philet. s:bus. [Another son of Aristophanes. ] Eat and Drink.
For what, I pray you, should a mortal do But seek for all appliances and means
To pass his life in comfort day by day ? This should be all our object and our aim, Reflecting on the chance of human life. And never let us think about to-morrow, Whether it will arrive at all or not.
It is a foolish trouble to lay up
Money which may grow stale and useless to you. *******
But whatever mortals Of good condition live a bounteous life,
I still declare that they are wretched men, Surely ; for dead, you cannot eat an eel, Nor for the dead are nuptial cakes prepared.
Music cheers Death.
0 Zeus ! how glorious 'tis to die while piercing flutes are near, Pouring their stirring melodies into the faltering ear ;
On these alone doth Orcus smile, within whose realms of night, Where vulgar ghosts in shivering bands, all strangers to delight, In leaky tub from Styx's flood the icy waters bear,
Condemned, for woman's lovely voice, its moaning sounds to hear. Ephippus.
[In this period; exact dates uncertain. ]
How I delight To spring upon the dainty coverlets ;
Breathing the perfume of the rose, and steeped In tears of myrrh !
Auaxilas. Courtesan Mistresses.
Whoeveb has been weak enough to dote, And live in precious bondage at the feet Of an imperious mistress, may relate Some part of their iniquity at least.
In fact, what wonder is there in the world That bears the least comparison with them ?
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
What frightful dragon, or chimera dire,
What Scylla, what Charybdis, can exceed them ? Nor sphinx nor hydra, nay, nor winged harpy, Nor hungry lioness, nor poisonous adder,
In noxious qualities is half so bad.
They are a race accursed, and stand alone, Preeminent in wickedness. For instance Plangon, a foul chimera, spreading flames,
And dealing out destruction far and near,
And no Bellerophon to crush the monster.
Then Sinope, a many-headed hydra,
An old and wrinkled hag — Gnathine, too,
Her neighbor — oh ! they are a precious pair. Nanno's a barking Scylla, nothing less —
Having already privately despatched
Two of her lovers, she would lure a third
To sure destruction, but the youth escaped, Thanks to his pliant oars and better fortune. Phryne, like foul Charybdis, swallows up
At once the pilot and the bark. Theano,
Like a plucked Siren, has the voice and look
Of woman, but below the waist her limbs Withered and shrunk up to the blackbird's size. These wretched women, one and all, partake
The natures of the Theban Sphinx. They speak In doubtful and ambiguous phrase, pretend
To love you truly, and with artless hearts,
Then whisper in your ear some little want —
A girl to wait on them, forsooth, a bed,
Or easy-chair, a brazen tripod too —
Give what you will, they never are content ;
And to sum up their character at once,
No beast that haunts the forest for his prey
Is half so mischievous.
Abistophon.
[In this period, bat exact dates uncertain. ] Marriage.
A man may marry once without a crime ; But curst is he who weds a second time.
Love.
Love, the disturber of the peace of heaven, And grand tormenter of Olympian feuds,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Was banished from the synod of the gods : They drove him down to earth at the expense Of us poor mortals, and curtailed his wings To spoil his soaring and secure themselves From his annoyance — selfish, hard decree ! For ever since, he roams the unquiet world, The tyrant and despoiler of mankind.
Pythagoras.
I've heard this arrogant impostor tell, Amongst the wonders which he saw in hell, That Pluto with his scholars sat and fed, Singling them out from the inferior dead ; Good faith ! the monarch was not overnice Thus to take up with beggary and lice.
Pythagoras' Disciples.
So gaunt they seem, that famine never made Of lank Philippides so mere a shade :
Of salted tunny-fish their scanty dole,
Their beverage, like the frogs, a standing pool, With now and then a cabbage, at the best
The leavings of the caterpillar's feast ;
No comb approaches their disheveled hair,
To rout the long established myriads there ;
On the bare ground their bed, nor do they know A warmer coverlet than serves the crow.
Flames the meridian sun without a cloud ? They bark like grasshoppers and chirp as loud ; With oil they never even feast their eyes ;
The luxury of stockings they despise,
But, barefoot as the crane, still march along
All night in chorus with the screech-owl's song.
Epicrates.
[An Epirote. Flourished b. c. 376-348. ] Burlesque of the Platonic Ideas.
A. I pbat you, sir, — for I perceive you learned In these grave matters, — let my ignorance suck Some profit from your courtesy, and tell me — What are your wise philosophers engaged in.
Your Plato, Menedemus, and Speusippus ?
What mighty mysteries have they in projection ? What new discoveries may the world expect From their profound researches ?
I conjure you,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
By Earth, our common mother, to impart them ! B. Sir, you shall know at our great festival,
I was myself their hearer, and so much
As I there heard will presently disclose,
So you will give it ears, for I must speak
Of things perchance surpassing your belief,
So strange they will appear ; but so it happened, That these most sage academicians sate
In solemn consultation — on a cabbage.
A. A cabbage ! what did they discover there ?
B. Oh, sir ! your cabbage hath its sex and gender,
Its provinces, prerogatives, and ranks,
And, nicely handled, breeds as many questions
As it does maggots. All the younger fry
Stood dumb with expectation and respect,
Wond'ring what this same cabbage should bring forth ; The lecturer eyed them round, whereat a youth
Took heart, and breaking first the awful silence, Humbly craved leave to think — that it was round ! The cause was now at issue, and a second
Opined it was an herb — a third conceived
With due submission it might be a plant —
The difference methought was such that each
Might keep his own opinion and be right ;
But soon a bolder voice broke up the council,
And, stepping forward, a Sicilian quack
Told them their question was abuse of time, —
It was a cabbage, neither more nor less,
And they were fools to prate so much about it. Insolent wretch ! amazement seized the troop,
Clamor and wrath and tumult raged amain,
Till Plato, trembling for his own philosophy,
And calmly praying patience of the court,
Took up the cabbage, and adjourned the cause.
Alexis.
[About b. c. 390-288 ; In his prime about Alexander's period, say 330. He the model for Menander. ]
How the Procuress doctors her Wares.
They fly at all, and as their funds increase,
With fresh recruits they still augment their stock, Molding the young novitiate to her trade :
Form, feature, manners, everything so changed That not a trace of former self is left.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo.
[Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected fiom a fine collection of these docu ments in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached hears the date 1644.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo. (Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected from a fine collection of these documents in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of
the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached bears the
date 1644.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 311
Is the wench short ? a triple sole of cork
Exalts the pigmy to a proper size.
Is she too tall of stature ? a low chair
Softens the fault, and a fine easy stoop
Lowers her to a standard pitch. If narrow-hipped, A handsome wadding readily supplies
What nature stints, and all beholders cry,
"See what plump haunches ! " Hath the nymph perchance A high round paunch, stuffed like our comic drolls,
And strutting out foreright ? a good stout busk,
Pushing athwart, shall force the intruder back.
Hath she red brows ? a little soot will cure 'em.
Is she too black ? the ceruse makes her fair ;
Too pale of hue ? the opal comes in aid.
Hath she a beauty out of sight ? disclose it !
Strip nature bare without a blush. — Fine teeth ?
Let her affect one everlasting grin,
Laugh without stint — but ah ! if laugh she cannot,
And her lips won't obey, take a fine twig
Of myrtle, shape it like a butcher's skewer,
And prop them open. Set her on the bit
Day after day, when out of sight, till use
Grows second nature, and the pearly rows,
Will she or will she not, perforce appear.
Love.
The man who holds true pleasure to consist In pampering his vile body, and defies
Love's great divinity, rashly maintains
Weak impious war with an immortal god.
The gravest master that the schools can boast Ne'er trained his pupils to such discipline,
As love his votaries — unrivaled power,
The first great deity ; and where is he
So stubborn and determinedly stiff
But shall at some time bend the knee to love,
And make obeisance to his mighty shrine ? One day, as slowly sauntering from the port,
A thousand cares conflicting in my breast, Thus I began to commune with myself :
" Methinks these painters misapply their art, And never know the being which they draw ; For mark their many false conceits of love. Love is not male nor female, man nor god, Nor with intelligence nor yet without
it,
812
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But a strange compound of all these uniting In one mixed essence many opposites ;
A manly courage with a woman's fear,
The madman's frenzy in a reasoning mind, The strength of steel, the fury of a beast, The ambition of a hero — something 'tis,
I swear,
I know not what this nameless something is. "
But by Minerva and the gods !
Gluttony.
You, sir, a Cyrenean, as I take you,
Look at your sect of mad voluptuaries ;
There's Diodorus — begging is too good for him — A vast inheritance in two short years,
Where is it ? Squandered, vanished, gone forever : So rapid was his dissipation. — Stop !
Stop, my good friend, you cry : not quite so fast ! This man went fair and softly to his ruin :
What talk you of two years ? As many days,
Two little days were long enough to finish
Young Epicharides ; he had some soul,
And drove a merry pace to his undoing —
Marry ! if a kind surfeit would surprise us,
Ere we sit down to earn such prevention
Would come most opportune to save the trouble
Of sick stomach and an aching head
But whilst the punishment out of sight,
And the full chalice at our lips we drink,
Drink all to-day, to-morrow fast and mourn,
Sick, and all o'er opprest with nauseous fumes Such the drunkard's curse, and Hell itself Cannot devise a greater — oh, that nature Might quit us of this overbearing burden,
This tyrant god, the belly take that from us With all its bestial appetites, and man, Exonerated man, shall be all soul. "
The only free gift that the gods gave man, — Sleep, that prepares our souls for endless night.
Amphis.
[Alive in b. o. 332; no other date known. ]
Drink and play, for life fleeting short our time beneath the sky;
But for death, he's everlasting when we once have come to die.
;
is
!
it, is
is
;
a
:
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 313
DiODORtrs.
[Of Sinope. Exhibited in 354. ]
This is my rule, and to my rule I'll hold, — To choose my wife by merit, not by gold ; For on that one election must depend Whether I wed a fury or a friend.
When your foe dies, let all resentment cease :
Make peace with death, and death shall give you peace.
Dionysius.
[ Of Sinope. About the same time as Nicostratus. ] The Cook.
The true professor of the art should strive To gratify the taste of every guest ;
For if he merely furnishes the table,
Sees all the dishes properly disposed,
And thinks, having done this, he has discharged His office, he's mistaken, and deserves
To be considered only as a drudge,
A kitchen drudge, without an art or skill,
And differs widely from a cook indeed, A master of his trade.
He bears the name Of general, 'tis true, who heads the army : But he whose comprehensive mind surveys
The whole, who knows to turn each circumstance Of time, and place, and action to advantage, — Foresees what difficulties may occur,
And how to conquer them, — this is the man Who should be called the general ; the other The mere conductor of the troops, no more.
So in our art it is an easy thing
To boil, to roast, to stew, to fricassee,
To blow the bellows or to stir the fire ;
But a professor of the art regards
The time, the place, the inviter, and the guest ; And when the market is well stored with fish, Knows to select, and to prefer such only
As are in proper season, and in short,
Omits no knowledge that may justly lead
To the perfection of his art. 'Tis true, Archestratus has written on the subject,
And is allowed by many to have left
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Most choice receipts, and curious inventions Useful and pleasing; yet in many things He was profoundly ignorant, and speaks Upon report, without substantial proof
Or knowledge of his own. We must not trust, Nor give our faith to loose conjectures thus For in our art we only can depend
On actual practice and experiment.
Having no fixed and settled laws by which
We may be governed, we must frame our own, As time and opportunity may serve,
Which if we do not well improve, the art Itself must suffer by our negligence.
Heniochus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ] The Demon Gfuests.
These are towns of every sort, Which have been crazy now since long ago.
Some one may interrupt and ask me why
They are here before us :
The place in which we meet's the agora
Of Olympia ; and fancy to yourselves
The scene is set as for a theater.
Well then, what are these cities doing here ?
They came here once to sacrifice to freedom
When they were nearly freed from forced exactions : After that sacrifice their recklessness
Destroyed them, entertaining stranger guests
Day after day upon the multiple throne ;
Namely, two women that have stirred them up, Always twin lived : Democracy the name
Of one is, Aristocracy the other ;
Through whom they've acted since most drunkenly !
Mnesimaohus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ]
The Fireeaters.
Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend ? I'll tell thee With gladiators, not with peaceful guests ;
Instead of knives we're armed with naked swords,
And swallow firebrands in the place of food ;
Daggers of Crete are served us for confections,
I will let him know.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 315
And for a plate of pease a fricassee
Of shattered spears ; the cushions we repose on Are shields and breastplates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreathed With military ensigns, not with myrtle.
Timocles.
[About b. o. 350-320. Said to have revived the energy of political comedy. ] Demosthenes.
Bid me say anything in preference ;
But on this theme, Demosthenes himself
Shall sooner check the torrent of his speech
Than I — Demosthenes ! That angry orator,
That bold Briareus, whose tremendous throat, Charged to the teeth with battering rams and spears Beats down opposers ; brief in speech was he,
But, crossed in argument, his threatening eyes Flashed fire, whilst thunder volleyed from his lips.
The Ungrateful Mistress.
Wretch that I am, She had my love when a mere caper-gatherer,
And fortune's smiles as yet were wanting to her.
I never pinched nor spared in my expenses,
Yet now — doors closely barred are the recompense That waits on former bounties ill bestowed.
The Lessons of Tragedy.
Nay, my good friend, but hear me ! I confess
Man is the child of sorrow, and this world,
In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague us ; But it hath means withal to sooth these cares,
And he who meditates on others' woes
Shall in that meditation lose his own.
Call then the tragic poet to your aid,
Hear him, and take instructions from the stage.
Let Telephus appear : behold a prince,
A spectacle of poverty and pain,
Wretched in both. — And what if you are poor ?
Are you a demigod ?
Music — I speak not loath, for 'tis your part
To hear, and speaking glads my heart From Melanippides arose
My sorrows : he was first of those Who seizing me relaxed my wings, Giving a dozen slacker strings
For the old eleven ; yet, be sure,
He was a man I could endure
Compared with these, the last and worst. For one Cinesias, an accurst
Athenian, making discords vile
By sudden turns for novel style
In strophic endings, so destroyed me That in the verse where he employed me, His dithyrambs, like shields in fight You'd think the left side was the right. But even this you could not call
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Rough in comparison at all :
Phrynis came next, and, having thrown
A certain whirlwind of his own
To the front, with twists and turns of tone Ruined me quite, while on five strings
A dozen harmonies he rings.
Yet even he could be endured,
For his wrong-doing could be cured,
But, dearest, Timotheus, you see,
— Buried and foully murdered me.
Justice— Timotheus who ? Music
— Milesian.
A red-head low
Justice Music —
Has he harmed you so ? All that I tell you : I'm undone
By tortuous melodies that run
Along the strings like swarms of ants.
And if by any evil chance
Walking alone he ever meets me,
With the twelve strings he ties and beats me.
The Real "Old Times. "
Nobody then had male or female servants, —
No help at all, — and each had for himself
To execute all labors in the house :
Mornings with their own hands they ground the corn, The hamlet echoed as they thumped the mills.
Settling a Bore.
If a conceited donkey start to bray,
I'd answer him — " Don't have so much to say ! Be pleased to turn your mind and ears this way. "
The Feminine Toper.
A. I'm just out of the hot-bath, quite cooked through ; My throat's as dry —
B. I'll bring you something to drink. A. Dear me, my mouth is sticky with saliva.
B. How large a cup will satisfy you ?
A. Well,
Don't make it small : it always stirs my bile When I've drunk medicine from such a one ;
So have mine poured into a good-sized cup. . . .
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
A.
B. Isn't it watered ?
300
[The same topic elsewhere. ]
Then by the potters for the men were made
Broad cups that had no sides, but only bottoms,
Not holding a mussel-shellful — just like tasters ;
But for themselves [women] deep cups like merchant vessels Wine-ships, round, grasped by the middle, belly- shaped ; — Not thoughtlessly, but with long-sighted craft
How they could guzzle wine and give no reasons.
Then, when we charge that they've drunk up the wine,
They tongue us, swearing they have " drunk but one " ;
But that one's bigger than a thousand cups.
A Floral Invocation.
You with mallow sighings, hyacinthine breath, Honey-clover speeches, rose smiles for your mate,
Marjoram kisses, love-embraces in a parsley wreath, Tiger-lily laughter, larkspur gait, —
Pour the wine and raise the paean as the sacred laws dictate !
Plato ("Comiccs"). [Flourished B. C. 428-389. ]
On the Tomb of T/iemistocles.
By the sea's margin, on the watery strand, Thy monument, Themistocles, shall stand :
By this directed to thy native shore
The merchant shall convey his freighted store ; And when our fleets are summoned to the fight, Athens shall conquer with thy tomb in sight.
Epicureanism as its Enemies Fancy. Father —
Thou hast destroyed the morals of my son, And turned his mind, not so disposed, to vice,
Glyce, this isn't drinkable. A. Why, it's nothing but water.
What did you do, wretch ? B. Two parts, mamma. A.
B.
What did you pour in ? To how much wine ?
***#**##
Why, four. A. Go to the deuce ! You ought to mix for frogs.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 801
Unholy pedagogue! With morning drams,
A filthy custom which he caught from thee,
Far from his former practice, now he saps
His youthful vigor. Is it thus you school him ?
Sophist —
And if he did, what harms him ? Why complain you ? He does but follow what the wise prescribe,
The great voluptuous law of Epicurus,
Pleasure, the best of all good things of earth ;
And how but thus can pleasure be obtained ?
Father —
Virtue will give it him.
Sophist — And what but virtue Is our philosophy ? When have you met
One of our sect flushed and disguised with wine ? Or one, but one, of those you tax so roundly
On whom to fix a fault ?
Father — Not one, but all,
All who march forth with supercilious brow
High arched with pride, beating the city rounds, Like constables in quest of rogues and outlaws, To find that prodigy in human nature,
A wise and perfect man ! What is your science But kitchen science ? Wisely to descant
Upon the choice bits of a savory cup,
And prove by logic that his summum bonum
Lies in his head ; there you can lecture well,
And whilst your gray hairs wag, the gaping guest Sits wondering with a foolish face of praise.
Amipsias. [Contemporary of Aristophanes. ]
A. Best of a few, most trifling of a crowd
Are you here with us also, Socrates ?
You're a sturdy man : where did you get that cloak ?
B. This happened ill — the tailors stand a loss. A. Yet he, thus dirty, would not suffer flattery.
Strattis.
[Flourished about b. c. 410-380. ]
No one can bear To drink his wine hot ; on the contrary
It should be cooled in a well, or mixed with snow.
302
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Theopompus.
[Exhibited down to about b. c. 376. ]
Stop gambling, boy, and for the future eat
More vegetables. Your stomach's indurated :
I'd leave off eating oysters for the present ;
And furthermore, new wine's the best for counsel. If you do this, your fortunes will be easier.
Philonides.
[Date uncertain. ]
Because I hold the laws in due respect And fear to be unjust, am I a coward ? Meek let me be to all the friends of truth, And only terrible amongst its foes.
Polyzelus.
[Uncertain ; in this period. ]
Out of three evils before him, he has to make choice of one :
To drag the cross he'll be nailed to, drink hemlock, or scuttle and run From the ship, which will save him from such an evil reward : These are Theramenes' three, against which he wishes to guard
Demetbius.
[About b. c. 400. ]
The easiest thing to snare is villainy ; For, always working solely to its gain, With headlong folly it credits everything.
"MIDDLE COMEDY. " Antiphaotes.
[Of Smyrna or Rhodes ; began to exhibit about 383 b. c. One of the fore most poets of the " Middle Comedy " ; won thirty prizes. ]
On Women.
A. Ye foolish husbands, trick not out your wives ; Dress not their persons fine, but clothe their minds. Tell 'em your secrets ? — Tell 'em to the crier,
And make the market place your confidant !
B. Nay, but there's proper penalties for blabbing.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
A. What penalties ? they'll drive you out of them Summon your children into court, convene
Relations, friends, and neighbors to confront
And nonsuit your complaint, till in the end
Justice is hooted down, and quiet prevails. . . . For this, and only this, I'll trust a woman : That if you take life from her, she will die, And being dead she'll come to life no more ;
In all things else I am an infidel.
Oh ! might I never more behold a woman !
Rather than I should meet that object, gods,
Strike out my eyes — I'll thank you for your mercy.
A Different View of the Same.
The man who first laid down the pedant rule That love is folly, was himself the fool ;
For if to life that transport you deny,
What privilege is left us — but to die ?
The Unwelcomeness of Death.
Ah, good my master, you may sigh for death, And call in vain upon him to release you,
But will you bid him welcome when he comes ? Not you : old Charon has a stubborn task
To tug you to his wherry and dislodge you From your rich tables, when your hour is come.
I
A good, brisk, sweeping, epidemic plague : There's nothing else can make you all immortal.
muse the gods send not a plague amongst you,
Death's Inn.
Cease, mourners, cease complaint, and weep no more. Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, Advanced a stage or two upon that road
Which you must travel in the steps they trode ;
In the same inn we all shall meet at last, Then take new life and laugh at sorrows past.
The Parasite. [See also Eupolis. ]
What art, vocation, trade, or mystery
Can match with your fine parasite ? — The painter ?
FRAGMENTS OP GREEK COMIC POETS.
He ! a mere dauber ; a vile drudge the farmer : — Their business is to labor, ours to laugh,
To jeer, to quibble, faith, sirs ! and to drink, Aye, and drink lustily. Is not this rare ?
'Tis life — my life at least. The first of pleasures Were to be rich myself ; but next to this
I hold it best to be a parasite,
And feed upon the rich.
Now mark me right !
Set down my virtues one by one : imprimis, Good will to all men — would they were all rich So might I gull them all : malice to none ;
I envy no man's fortune — all I wish
Is but to share it. Would you have a friend,
A gallant steady friend ?
I
No striker I, no swaggerer, no defamer,
But one to bear all these, and still forbear :
If you insult, I laugh, unruffled, merry, Invincibly good-humored, still I laugh :
A stout good soldier I, valorous to a fault, When once my stomach's up and supper served. You know my humor — not one spark of pride, Such and the same forever to my friends.
If cudgeled, molten iron to the hammer
Is not so malleable ; but if I cudgel,
Bold as the thunder. Is one to be blinded ? I
I
am the lightning's flash : to be puffed up ?
am the wind to blow him to the bursting.
Cloaked, strangled ? I can do't and save a halter.
Would you break down his doors ? behold an earthquake; Open and enter them ? a battering-ram
Will you sit down to supper ? I'm your guest,
Your very fly to enter without bidding.
Would you move off ? You'll move a well as soon. — I'm for all work, and though the job were stabbing, Betraying, false-accusing, only say
" Do this," and it is done !
They call me Thunderbolt for my dispatch.
Friend of my friends am I. Let action speak me :
I'm much too modest to commend myself.
An honest man to law makes no resort : His conscience is the better rule of court.
am your man :
I stick at nothing
;
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Anaxandbides.
[A Hhodian ; began to exhibit B. C. 376. ]
Evils of Secrecy.
Sweet it When one has had new idea rise,
To blazon for they whose knowledge lies Sole in themselves, first, have no test in mind Of technic next, they are hated, for mankind Should be given all the freshest things we find.
Ruled by their Stomachs.
[These mock serious lines apparently relate to a still-life picture of
A. The lovely handiwork of portrait painters, Set on an easel, a thing to admire
But this ignobly comes from off platter, Swiftly evanished from a frying pan
305
his longing ends in marriage train of evils in one's life.
Sensibly,
It starts
For
He has
Of whom he's slave and hired man. If again He takes one bringing naught, he's twice slave For then there's two to feed instead of one.
One takes punk she's not worth living with, Nor bringing into home in any way.
Another takes beauty she belongs — As much to her husband's neighbor as to him. So that there's no way evils won't attend it.
vol. iv. —20
hired man take woman's riches, lady mistress, not wife,
fish. ]
B. But by what other handicraft, good sir,
Are young men's mouths so quickly set on fire,
Or fingers set to choke their owners, poking
If they're unable to swallow quick enough
Are not our parties solely made delightful
By the fish market What men dine together Without fry, or black perch that you buy,
Or sprats And then, as to the blooming boy, What charms or speeches can you catch him with, Tell me, you but take away the skill
Of the fisherman — for this how he's tamed, Vanquished by the cooked faces of the fishes.
The Croaker upon Marriage.
Whoever longs to marry, doesn't long
a
a:
?
is ? a
:
a a
if aa
a aifif? a
;it :
;
is
a :a
is,
?
!
a
;
806 FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
EUBULUS.
[Flourished from about b. c.
375 to 325 ; his period almost exactly coinciding with that of the " Middle Comedy. "]
Three cups of wine a prudent man may take : The first of these for constitution's sake ;
The second to the girl he loves the best ;
The third and last to lull him to his rest,
Then home to bed ! But if a fourth he pours, That is the cup of folly, and not ours ;
Loud, noisy talking on the fifth attends ;
The sixth breeds feuds and falling out of friends ; Seven beget blows and faces stained with gore ; Eight, and the watch patrol breaks ope the door ; Mad with the ninth, another cup goes round,
And the swilled sot drops senseless to the ground.
On a Painting of Love.
Why, foolish painter, give those wings to love ? Love is not light, as my sad heart can prove : Love hath no wings, or none that I can see ;
If he can fly, oh ! bid him fly from me !
Nicostratus.
[A son of Aristophanes. ]
An Ancient Wonderland Animal.
A. Is it a man-of-war, a swan, or a beetle ? When I have found out what, I'll undertake Any adventure.
B. Doubtless a swan-beetle.
A Health.
A. And I, beloved,
Pour out to you the stirrup-cup of health. Good health to you !
B. Well, here's to all good luck ! All mortal things are in luck's hands ; and foresight Is blind and helter-skelter, father dear.
If this incessant chattering be your plan, I would you were a swallow, not a man !
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 807
Philet. s:bus. [Another son of Aristophanes. ] Eat and Drink.
For what, I pray you, should a mortal do But seek for all appliances and means
To pass his life in comfort day by day ? This should be all our object and our aim, Reflecting on the chance of human life. And never let us think about to-morrow, Whether it will arrive at all or not.
It is a foolish trouble to lay up
Money which may grow stale and useless to you. *******
But whatever mortals Of good condition live a bounteous life,
I still declare that they are wretched men, Surely ; for dead, you cannot eat an eel, Nor for the dead are nuptial cakes prepared.
Music cheers Death.
0 Zeus ! how glorious 'tis to die while piercing flutes are near, Pouring their stirring melodies into the faltering ear ;
On these alone doth Orcus smile, within whose realms of night, Where vulgar ghosts in shivering bands, all strangers to delight, In leaky tub from Styx's flood the icy waters bear,
Condemned, for woman's lovely voice, its moaning sounds to hear. Ephippus.
[In this period; exact dates uncertain. ]
How I delight To spring upon the dainty coverlets ;
Breathing the perfume of the rose, and steeped In tears of myrrh !
Auaxilas. Courtesan Mistresses.
Whoeveb has been weak enough to dote, And live in precious bondage at the feet Of an imperious mistress, may relate Some part of their iniquity at least.
In fact, what wonder is there in the world That bears the least comparison with them ?
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
What frightful dragon, or chimera dire,
What Scylla, what Charybdis, can exceed them ? Nor sphinx nor hydra, nay, nor winged harpy, Nor hungry lioness, nor poisonous adder,
In noxious qualities is half so bad.
They are a race accursed, and stand alone, Preeminent in wickedness. For instance Plangon, a foul chimera, spreading flames,
And dealing out destruction far and near,
And no Bellerophon to crush the monster.
Then Sinope, a many-headed hydra,
An old and wrinkled hag — Gnathine, too,
Her neighbor — oh ! they are a precious pair. Nanno's a barking Scylla, nothing less —
Having already privately despatched
Two of her lovers, she would lure a third
To sure destruction, but the youth escaped, Thanks to his pliant oars and better fortune. Phryne, like foul Charybdis, swallows up
At once the pilot and the bark. Theano,
Like a plucked Siren, has the voice and look
Of woman, but below the waist her limbs Withered and shrunk up to the blackbird's size. These wretched women, one and all, partake
The natures of the Theban Sphinx. They speak In doubtful and ambiguous phrase, pretend
To love you truly, and with artless hearts,
Then whisper in your ear some little want —
A girl to wait on them, forsooth, a bed,
Or easy-chair, a brazen tripod too —
Give what you will, they never are content ;
And to sum up their character at once,
No beast that haunts the forest for his prey
Is half so mischievous.
Abistophon.
[In this period, bat exact dates uncertain. ] Marriage.
A man may marry once without a crime ; But curst is he who weds a second time.
Love.
Love, the disturber of the peace of heaven, And grand tormenter of Olympian feuds,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Was banished from the synod of the gods : They drove him down to earth at the expense Of us poor mortals, and curtailed his wings To spoil his soaring and secure themselves From his annoyance — selfish, hard decree ! For ever since, he roams the unquiet world, The tyrant and despoiler of mankind.
Pythagoras.
I've heard this arrogant impostor tell, Amongst the wonders which he saw in hell, That Pluto with his scholars sat and fed, Singling them out from the inferior dead ; Good faith ! the monarch was not overnice Thus to take up with beggary and lice.
Pythagoras' Disciples.
So gaunt they seem, that famine never made Of lank Philippides so mere a shade :
Of salted tunny-fish their scanty dole,
Their beverage, like the frogs, a standing pool, With now and then a cabbage, at the best
The leavings of the caterpillar's feast ;
No comb approaches their disheveled hair,
To rout the long established myriads there ;
On the bare ground their bed, nor do they know A warmer coverlet than serves the crow.
Flames the meridian sun without a cloud ? They bark like grasshoppers and chirp as loud ; With oil they never even feast their eyes ;
The luxury of stockings they despise,
But, barefoot as the crane, still march along
All night in chorus with the screech-owl's song.
Epicrates.
[An Epirote. Flourished b. c. 376-348. ] Burlesque of the Platonic Ideas.
A. I pbat you, sir, — for I perceive you learned In these grave matters, — let my ignorance suck Some profit from your courtesy, and tell me — What are your wise philosophers engaged in.
Your Plato, Menedemus, and Speusippus ?
What mighty mysteries have they in projection ? What new discoveries may the world expect From their profound researches ?
I conjure you,
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
By Earth, our common mother, to impart them ! B. Sir, you shall know at our great festival,
I was myself their hearer, and so much
As I there heard will presently disclose,
So you will give it ears, for I must speak
Of things perchance surpassing your belief,
So strange they will appear ; but so it happened, That these most sage academicians sate
In solemn consultation — on a cabbage.
A. A cabbage ! what did they discover there ?
B. Oh, sir ! your cabbage hath its sex and gender,
Its provinces, prerogatives, and ranks,
And, nicely handled, breeds as many questions
As it does maggots. All the younger fry
Stood dumb with expectation and respect,
Wond'ring what this same cabbage should bring forth ; The lecturer eyed them round, whereat a youth
Took heart, and breaking first the awful silence, Humbly craved leave to think — that it was round ! The cause was now at issue, and a second
Opined it was an herb — a third conceived
With due submission it might be a plant —
The difference methought was such that each
Might keep his own opinion and be right ;
But soon a bolder voice broke up the council,
And, stepping forward, a Sicilian quack
Told them their question was abuse of time, —
It was a cabbage, neither more nor less,
And they were fools to prate so much about it. Insolent wretch ! amazement seized the troop,
Clamor and wrath and tumult raged amain,
Till Plato, trembling for his own philosophy,
And calmly praying patience of the court,
Took up the cabbage, and adjourned the cause.
Alexis.
[About b. c. 390-288 ; In his prime about Alexander's period, say 330. He the model for Menander. ]
How the Procuress doctors her Wares.
They fly at all, and as their funds increase,
With fresh recruits they still augment their stock, Molding the young novitiate to her trade :
Form, feature, manners, everything so changed That not a trace of former self is left.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo.
[Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected fiom a fine collection of these docu ments in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached hears the date 1644.
Venetian Diploma of Semitecolo. (Sixteenth Century. )
This specimen was selected from a fine collection of these documents in the British Museum, on account of the beautiful miniature painting of
the illumination. The diploma to which this miniature is attached bears the
date 1644.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 311
Is the wench short ? a triple sole of cork
Exalts the pigmy to a proper size.
Is she too tall of stature ? a low chair
Softens the fault, and a fine easy stoop
Lowers her to a standard pitch. If narrow-hipped, A handsome wadding readily supplies
What nature stints, and all beholders cry,
"See what plump haunches ! " Hath the nymph perchance A high round paunch, stuffed like our comic drolls,
And strutting out foreright ? a good stout busk,
Pushing athwart, shall force the intruder back.
Hath she red brows ? a little soot will cure 'em.
Is she too black ? the ceruse makes her fair ;
Too pale of hue ? the opal comes in aid.
Hath she a beauty out of sight ? disclose it !
Strip nature bare without a blush. — Fine teeth ?
Let her affect one everlasting grin,
Laugh without stint — but ah ! if laugh she cannot,
And her lips won't obey, take a fine twig
Of myrtle, shape it like a butcher's skewer,
And prop them open. Set her on the bit
Day after day, when out of sight, till use
Grows second nature, and the pearly rows,
Will she or will she not, perforce appear.
Love.
The man who holds true pleasure to consist In pampering his vile body, and defies
Love's great divinity, rashly maintains
Weak impious war with an immortal god.
The gravest master that the schools can boast Ne'er trained his pupils to such discipline,
As love his votaries — unrivaled power,
The first great deity ; and where is he
So stubborn and determinedly stiff
But shall at some time bend the knee to love,
And make obeisance to his mighty shrine ? One day, as slowly sauntering from the port,
A thousand cares conflicting in my breast, Thus I began to commune with myself :
" Methinks these painters misapply their art, And never know the being which they draw ; For mark their many false conceits of love. Love is not male nor female, man nor god, Nor with intelligence nor yet without
it,
812
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
But a strange compound of all these uniting In one mixed essence many opposites ;
A manly courage with a woman's fear,
The madman's frenzy in a reasoning mind, The strength of steel, the fury of a beast, The ambition of a hero — something 'tis,
I swear,
I know not what this nameless something is. "
But by Minerva and the gods !
Gluttony.
You, sir, a Cyrenean, as I take you,
Look at your sect of mad voluptuaries ;
There's Diodorus — begging is too good for him — A vast inheritance in two short years,
Where is it ? Squandered, vanished, gone forever : So rapid was his dissipation. — Stop !
Stop, my good friend, you cry : not quite so fast ! This man went fair and softly to his ruin :
What talk you of two years ? As many days,
Two little days were long enough to finish
Young Epicharides ; he had some soul,
And drove a merry pace to his undoing —
Marry ! if a kind surfeit would surprise us,
Ere we sit down to earn such prevention
Would come most opportune to save the trouble
Of sick stomach and an aching head
But whilst the punishment out of sight,
And the full chalice at our lips we drink,
Drink all to-day, to-morrow fast and mourn,
Sick, and all o'er opprest with nauseous fumes Such the drunkard's curse, and Hell itself Cannot devise a greater — oh, that nature Might quit us of this overbearing burden,
This tyrant god, the belly take that from us With all its bestial appetites, and man, Exonerated man, shall be all soul. "
The only free gift that the gods gave man, — Sleep, that prepares our souls for endless night.
Amphis.
[Alive in b. o. 332; no other date known. ]
Drink and play, for life fleeting short our time beneath the sky;
But for death, he's everlasting when we once have come to die.
;
is
!
it, is
is
;
a
:
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 313
DiODORtrs.
[Of Sinope. Exhibited in 354. ]
This is my rule, and to my rule I'll hold, — To choose my wife by merit, not by gold ; For on that one election must depend Whether I wed a fury or a friend.
When your foe dies, let all resentment cease :
Make peace with death, and death shall give you peace.
Dionysius.
[ Of Sinope. About the same time as Nicostratus. ] The Cook.
The true professor of the art should strive To gratify the taste of every guest ;
For if he merely furnishes the table,
Sees all the dishes properly disposed,
And thinks, having done this, he has discharged His office, he's mistaken, and deserves
To be considered only as a drudge,
A kitchen drudge, without an art or skill,
And differs widely from a cook indeed, A master of his trade.
He bears the name Of general, 'tis true, who heads the army : But he whose comprehensive mind surveys
The whole, who knows to turn each circumstance Of time, and place, and action to advantage, — Foresees what difficulties may occur,
And how to conquer them, — this is the man Who should be called the general ; the other The mere conductor of the troops, no more.
So in our art it is an easy thing
To boil, to roast, to stew, to fricassee,
To blow the bellows or to stir the fire ;
But a professor of the art regards
The time, the place, the inviter, and the guest ; And when the market is well stored with fish, Knows to select, and to prefer such only
As are in proper season, and in short,
Omits no knowledge that may justly lead
To the perfection of his art. 'Tis true, Archestratus has written on the subject,
And is allowed by many to have left
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS.
Most choice receipts, and curious inventions Useful and pleasing; yet in many things He was profoundly ignorant, and speaks Upon report, without substantial proof
Or knowledge of his own. We must not trust, Nor give our faith to loose conjectures thus For in our art we only can depend
On actual practice and experiment.
Having no fixed and settled laws by which
We may be governed, we must frame our own, As time and opportunity may serve,
Which if we do not well improve, the art Itself must suffer by our negligence.
Heniochus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ] The Demon Gfuests.
These are towns of every sort, Which have been crazy now since long ago.
Some one may interrupt and ask me why
They are here before us :
The place in which we meet's the agora
Of Olympia ; and fancy to yourselves
The scene is set as for a theater.
Well then, what are these cities doing here ?
They came here once to sacrifice to freedom
When they were nearly freed from forced exactions : After that sacrifice their recklessness
Destroyed them, entertaining stranger guests
Day after day upon the multiple throne ;
Namely, two women that have stirred them up, Always twin lived : Democracy the name
Of one is, Aristocracy the other ;
Through whom they've acted since most drunkenly !
Mnesimaohus.
[Of this period ; dates unknown. ]
The Fireeaters.
Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend ? I'll tell thee With gladiators, not with peaceful guests ;
Instead of knives we're armed with naked swords,
And swallow firebrands in the place of food ;
Daggers of Crete are served us for confections,
I will let him know.
FRAGMENTS OF GREEK COMIC POETS. 315
And for a plate of pease a fricassee
Of shattered spears ; the cushions we repose on Are shields and breastplates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreathed With military ensigns, not with myrtle.
Timocles.
[About b. o. 350-320. Said to have revived the energy of political comedy. ] Demosthenes.
Bid me say anything in preference ;
But on this theme, Demosthenes himself
Shall sooner check the torrent of his speech
Than I — Demosthenes ! That angry orator,
That bold Briareus, whose tremendous throat, Charged to the teeth with battering rams and spears Beats down opposers ; brief in speech was he,
But, crossed in argument, his threatening eyes Flashed fire, whilst thunder volleyed from his lips.
The Ungrateful Mistress.
Wretch that I am, She had my love when a mere caper-gatherer,
And fortune's smiles as yet were wanting to her.
I never pinched nor spared in my expenses,
Yet now — doors closely barred are the recompense That waits on former bounties ill bestowed.
The Lessons of Tragedy.
Nay, my good friend, but hear me ! I confess
Man is the child of sorrow, and this world,
In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague us ; But it hath means withal to sooth these cares,
And he who meditates on others' woes
Shall in that meditation lose his own.
Call then the tragic poet to your aid,
Hear him, and take instructions from the stage.
Let Telephus appear : behold a prince,
A spectacle of poverty and pain,
Wretched in both. — And what if you are poor ?
Are you a demigod ?
