Complete Works of Theocritus

by Theocritus

  Μουσάων δ᾽ ὑποφῆται ἀείδοντι Πτολεμαῖον 115

  ἀντ᾽ εὐεργεσίας. τί δὲ κάλλιον ἀνδρί κεν εἴη

  ὀλβίῳ ἢ κλέος ἐσθλὸν ἐν ἀνθρώποισιν ἀρέσθαι;

  τοῦτο καὶ ᾿Ατρείδαισι μένει: τὰ δὲ μυρία τῆνα,

  ὅσσα μέγαν Πριάμοιο δόμον κτεάτισσαν ἑλόντες,

  ἀέρι πᾳ κέκρυπται, ὅθεν πάλιν οὐκέτι νόστος: 120

  μοῦνος δὲ προτέρων τε καὶ ὧν ἔτι θερμὰ κονία

  στειβομένα καθύπερθε ποδῶν ἐκμάσσεται ἴχνη,

  ματρὶ φίλᾳ καὶ πατρὶ θυώδεας εἵσατο ναούς:

  ἐν δ᾽ αὐτοὺς χρυσῷ περικαλλέας ἠδ᾽ ἐλέφαντι

  ἵδρυται πάντεσσιν ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἀρωγούς. 125

  πολλὰ δὲ πιανθέντα βοῶν ὅγε μηρία καίει

  μησὶ περιπλομένοισιν ἐρευθομένων ἐπὶ βωμῶν,

  αὐτός τ᾽ ἰφθίμα τ᾽ ἄλοχος, τᾶς οὔτις ἀρείων

  νυμφίον ἐν μεγάροισι γυνὰ περιβάλλετ᾽ ἀγοστῷ,

  ἐκ θυμοῦ στέργοισα κασίγνητόν τε πόσιν τε. 130

  ὧδε καὶ ἀθανάτων ἱερὸς γάμος ἐξετελέσθη,

  οὓς τέκετο κρείουσα ῾Ρέα βασιλῆας ᾿Ολύμπου:

  ἓν δὲ λέχος στόρνυσιν ἰαύειν Ζηνὶ καὶ ῞Ηρῃ

  χεῖρας φοιβήσασα μύροις ἔτι παρθένος ̂̓Ιρις.

  [115] But ’tis not for his wealth that the interpreters of the Muses sing praise of Ptolemy; rather is it for his well-doing. And what can be finer for a wealthy and prosperous man than to earn a fair fame among his fellow-men? This it is which endureth even to the sons of Atreus, albeit all those ten thousand possessions that fell to them when they took Priam’s great house, they lie hid somewhere in that mist whence no return can be evermore. And this man hath done that which none before hath done, be he of them of old, be he of those whose footmarks are yet warm in the dust they trod; he hath builded incense-fragrant temples to his mother and father dear, and hath set therein images of them in gold and ivory, very beautiful, to be the aid of all that live upon the earth. And many are the thighs of fatted oxen that s the months go round he consumes upon the reddening altars, he and that his fine noble spouse, who maketh him a better wife than ever clasped bridegroom under any roof, seeing that she loveth with her whole heart brother and husband in one. So too in heaven was the holy wedlock accomplished of those whom august Rhea bare to be rulers of Olympus, so too the myrrh-cleansed hands of the ever-maiden Iris lay but one couch for the slumbering Zeus and Hera.

  χαῖρε ἄναξ Πτολεμαῖε: σέθεν δ᾽ ἐγὼ ἶσα καὶ ἄλλων 135

  μνάσομαι ἡμιθέων, δοκέω δ᾽ ἔπος οὐκ ἀπόβλητον

  φθέγξομαι ἐσσομένοις: ἀρετήν γε μὲν ἐκ Διὸς αἰτεῦ.

  [135] And now farewell, Lord Ptolemy; and I will speak of thee as of other demi-gods, and methinks what I shall say will not be lost upon posterity; ’tis this – excellence asks from none but Zeus.

  IDYLL XVIII. Ἑλένης Ἐπιθάλαμιος

  IDYLL XVIII. THE EPITHALAMY OF HELEN

  This is a short Epic piece o the same type as XIII. Both begin, as do XXV and Bion II, with a phrase suggesting that they are consequent upon something previous; but his, like the ergo or igitur of Propertius and Ovid, is no more than a recognised way of beginning a short poem. The introduction, unlike that of XIII, contains no dedication. The scholia tells us Theocritus here imitates certain passages of Stesichorus’ first Epithalamy of Helen. He seems also to have had Saphho’s book of Wedding-Songs before him.

  ῎Εν ποκ᾽ ἄρα Σπάρτᾳ ξανθότριχι πὰρ Μενελάῳ

  παρθενικαὶ θάλλοντα κόμαις ὑάκινθον ἔχοισαι

  πρόσθε νεογράπτω θαλάμω χορὸν ἐστάσαντο,

  δώδεκα ταὶ πρᾶται πόλιος, μέγα χρῆμα Λακαινᾶν,

  ἁνίκα Τυνδαριδᾶν κατεδέξατο τὰν ἀγαπητὰν 5

  μναστεύσας ῾Ελέναν ὁ νεώτερος ᾿Ατρέος υἱός.

  ἄειδον δ᾽ ἄρα πᾶσαι ἐς ἓν μέλος ἐγκροτέοισαι

  ποσσὶ περιπλέκτοις, ὑπὸ δ᾽ ἴαχε δῶμ᾽ ὑμεναίῳ.

  [1] It seems that once upon a time at the house of flaxen-haired Menelaus in Sparta, the first twelve maidens of the town, fine pieces all of Laconian womanhood, came crowned with fresh flowering luces, and before a new-painted chamber took up the dance, when the younger child of Atreus shut the wedding door upon the girl of his wooing, upon the daughter of Tyndareüs, to wit the beloved Helen. There with their pretty feet criss-crossing all to the time of one tune they sang till the palace rang again with the echoes of this wedding-song:-

  οὕτω δὴ πρωιζὲ κατέδραθες ὦ φίλε γαμβρέ;

  ἦ ῥά τις ἐσσὶ λίαν βαρυγούνατος; ἦ ῥα φίλυπνος; 10

  ἦ ῥα πολύν τιν᾽ ἔπινες, ὅτ᾽ εἰς εὐνὰν κατεβάλλευ;

  εὕδειν μὰν σπεύδοντα καθ᾽ ὥραν αὐτὸν ἐχρῆν τυ,

  παῖδα δ᾽ ἐᾶν σὺν παισὶ φιλοστόργῳ παρὰ ματρὶ

  παίσδειν ἐς βαθὺν ὄρθρον, ἐπεὶ καὶ ἔνας καὶ ἐς ἀῶ

  κεἰς ἔτος ἐξ ἔτεος Μενέλαε τεὰ νυὸς ἅδε. 15

  [9] What Bridegroom! dear Bridegroom! thus early abed and asleep?

  Wast born a man of sluggardy, or is thy pillow sweet to thee,

  Or ere thou cam’st to bed maybe didst drink a little deep?

  If thou wert so fain to sleep betimes, ‘twere better sleep alone,

  And leave a maid with maids to play by a fond mother’s side till dawn of day,

  Sith for the morrow and its morn, for this and all the years unborn,

  This sweet bride is thine to own.

  ὄλβιε γάμβρ᾽, ἀγαθός τις ἐπέπταρεν ἐρχομένῳ τοι

  ἐς Σπάρταν, ἅπερ ὥλλοι ἀριστέες, ὡς ἀνύσαιο.

  μοῦνος ἐν ἡμιθέοις Κρονίδαν Δία πενθερὸν ἑξεῖς.

  Ζανός τοι θυγάτηρ ὑπὸ τὰν μίαν ἵκετο χλαῖναν,

  οἵα ᾿Αχαιιάδων γαῖαν πατεῖ οὐδὲ μί᾽ ἄλλα. 20

  ἦ μέγα κέν τι τέκοιτ᾽, εἰ ματέρι τίκτοι ὁμοῖον.

  ἄμμες δ᾽ αἱ πᾶσαι συνομάλικες, αἷς δρόμος ωὑτός

  χρισαμέναις ἀνδριστὶ παρ᾽ Εὐρώταο λοετροῖς,

  τετράκις ἑξήκοντα κόραι, θῆλυς νεολαία,

  τᾶν οὐδέν τις ἄμωμος, ἐπεί χ᾽ ῾Ελένᾳ παρισωθῇ. 25

  [16] When thou like others of high degree cam’st here thy suit a-pressing,

  Sure some good body, well is thee, sneezed thee a proper blessing;

  For of all these lordings there’s but one shall be son of the High Godheád,

  Aye, ‘neath one coverlet with thee Great Zeus his daughter is come to be,

  A lady whose like is not to see where Grecian women tread.

  And if she bring a mother’s bairn ‘twill be of a wonderous g
race;

  For sure all we which her fellows be, that ran with her the race,

  Anointed lasses like the lads, Eurótas’ pools beside –

  O’the four-times threescore maidens that were Sparta’s flower and pride

  There was none so fair as might compare with Menelaüs’ bride.

  ᾿Αὼς ἀντέλλοισα καλὸν διέφανε πρόσωπον,

  πότνια νὺξ τό τε λευκὸν ἔαρ χειμῶνος ἀνέντος:

  ὧδε καὶ ἁ χρυσέα ῾Ελένα διαφαίνετ᾽ ἐν ἁμῖν.

  πιείρᾳ μέγα λᾷον ἀνέδραμε κόσμος ἀρούρᾳ

  ἢ κάπῳ κυπάρισσος ἢ ἅρματι Θεσσαλὸς ἵππος: 30

  ὧδε καὶ ἁ ῥοδόχρως ῾Ελένα Λακεδαίμονι κόσμος.

  οὔτέ τις ἐκ ταλάρω πανίσδεται ἔργα τοιαῦτα,

  οὔτ᾽ ἐνὶ δαιδαλέῳ πυκινώτερον ἄτριον ἱστῷ

  κερκίδι συμπλέξασα μακρῶν ἔταμ᾽ ἐκ κελεόντων.

  οὐ μὰν οὐδὲ λύραν τις ἐπίσταται ὧδε κροτῆσαι 35

  ῎Αρτεμιν ἀείδοισα καὶ εὐρύστερνον ᾿Αθάναν,

  ὡς ῾Ελένα, τᾶς πάντες ἐπ᾽ ὄμμασιν ἵμεροι ἐντί.

  [26] O Lady Night, ’tis passing bright the face o’ the rising day;

  ’Tis like the white spring o’ the year when winter is no longer here;

  But so shines golden Helen clear among our meinie so gay.

  And the crops that upstand in a fat ploughlánd do make it fair to see,

  And a cypress the garden where she grows, and a Thessaaly steed the chariot he knows;

  But so doth Helen red as the rose make fair her dear countrye.

  And never doth woman on bobbin wind such thread as her baskets teem,

  Nor shuttlework so close and fine cuts from the weaver’s beam,

  Nor none hath skill to ply the quill to the Gods of Women above

  As the maiden wise in whose bright eyes dwells all desire and love.

  ὦ καλὰ ὦ χαρίεσσα κόρα, τὺ μὲν οἰκέτις ἤδη,

  ἄμμες δ᾽ ἐς δρόμον ἦρι καὶ ἐς λειμώνια φύλλα

  ἑρψοῦμες στεφάνως δρεψούμεναι ἁδὺ πνέοντας, 40

  πολλὰ τεοῦς ῾Ελένα μεμναμέναι ὡς γαλαθηναὶ

  ἄρνες γειναμένας ὄιος μαστὸν ποθέοισαι.

  πρᾶταί τοι στέφανον λωτῶ χαμαὶ αὐξομένοιο

  πλέξασαι σκιερὰν καταθήσομεν ἐς πλατάνιστον,

  πρᾶται δ᾽ ἀργυρέας ἐξ ὄλπιδος ὑγρὸν ἄλειφαρ 45

  λαζύμεναι σταξεῦμες ὑπὸ σκιερὰν πλατάνιστον:

  γράμματα δ᾽ ἐν φλοιῷ γεγράψεται, （ὡς παριών τις

  ἀννείμῃ,） δωριστί: σέβου μ᾽: ῾Ελένας φυτὸν εἰμί.

  [38] O maid of beauty, maid of grace, thou art a huswife now;

  But we shall betimes to the running-place i’ the meads where flowers do blow,

  And cropping garlands sweet and sweet about our brows to do,

  Like lambs athirst for the mother’s teat shall long, dear Helen, for you

  For you afore all shall a coronal of the gray groundling trefoíl

  Hang to a shady platan-tree, and a vial of running oil

  His offering drip from a silver lip beneath the same platan-tree,

  And a Doric rede be writ i’ the bark for him that passeth by to mark,

  ‘I am Helen’s; worship me.’

  χαίροις ὦ νύμφα, χαίροις εὐπένθερε γαμβρέ.

  Λατὼ μὲν δοίη, Λατὼ κουροτρόφος ὔμμιν 50

  εὐτεκνίαν, Κύπρις δέ, θεὰ Κύπρις ἶσον ἔρασθαι

  ἀλλάλων, Ζεὺς δέ, Κρονίδας Ζεὺς ἄφθιτον ὄλβον,

  ὡς ἐξ εὐπατριδᾶν εἰς εὐπατρίδας πάλιν ἔνθῃ.

  εὕδετ᾽ ἐς ἀλλάλων στέρνον φιλότητα πνέοντες

  καὶ πόθον, ἔγρεσθαι δὲ πρὸς ἀῶ μἠπιλάθησθε. 55

  νεύμεθα κἄμμες ἐς ὄρθρον, ἐπεί κα πρᾶτος ἀοιδὸς

  ἐξ εὐνᾶς κελαδήσῃ ἀνασχὼν εὔτριχα δειράν.

  [49] And ’tis Bride farewell, and Groom farewell, that be son of a mighty sire,

  And Leto, great Nurse Leto, grant children at your desire,

  And Cypris, holy Cypris, an equal love alwáy, and Zeus, high Zeus, prosperitye

  That drawn of parents of high degree shall pass to a noble progenye

  For ever and a day.

  Sleep on and rest, and on either breast may the love-breath playing go;

  Sleep now, but when the day shall break forget not from your sleep to wake;

  For we shall come wi’ the dawn along soon as the first-waked master o’song

  Lift feathery neck to crow.

  ῾Υμὴν ὦ ῾Υμέναιε, γάμῳ ἐπὶ τῷδε χαρείης.

  [58] Sing Hey for the Wedding, sing Ho for the Wedder, and thanks to him that made it!

  IDYLL XIX. Κηριοκλέπτης

  IDYLL XIX. THE HONEY-STEALER

  This little poem probably belongs to a later date than the Bucolic writers, and was brought into the collection merely owing to its resemblance to the Runaway Love of Moschus.

  τὸν κλέπταν πότ᾽ ῎Ερωτα κακὰ κέντασε μέλισσα

  κηρίον ἐκ σίμβλων συλεύμενον, ἄκρα δὲ χειρῶν

  δάκτυλα πάνθ᾽ ὑπένυξεν. ὁ δ᾽ ἄλγεε καὶ χέρ᾽ ἐφύση

  καὶ τὰν γᾶν ἐπάταξε καὶ ἅλατο, τᾷ δ᾽ ᾿Αφροδίτᾳ

  δεῖξεν τὰν ὀδύναν καὶ μέμφετο, ὅττί γε τυτθὸν 5

  θηρίον ἐστὶ μέλισσα καὶ ἁλίκα τραύματα ποιεῖ.

  χἁ μάτηρ γελάσασα: τί δ᾽; οὐκ ἴσος ἐσσὶ μελίσσαις;

  ὡς τυτθὸς μὲν ἔφυς, τὰ δὲ τραύματα χἁλίκα ποιεῖς.

  [1] When the thievish Love one day was stealing honeycomb from the hive, a wicked bee stung him, and made all his finger-tips to smart. In pain and grief he blew on his hand and stamped and leapt upon the ground, and went and showed his hurt to Aphrodite, and made complaint that so a little a beast as a bee could make so great a wound. Whereat his mother laughing, ‘What?’ cries she, ‘art not a match for a bee, and thou so little and yet able to make wounds so great?

  IDYLL XX. Βουκολίσκος

  IDYLL XX. THE YOUNG COUNTRYMAN

  A neatherd, chafing because a city wench disdains him, protests that he is a handsome fellow, and that Gods have been known to make love to country-folk, and calls down upon her the curse of perpetual celibacy. This spirited poem is a monologue, but preserves the mime-form by means of dumb characters, the shepherds of line 19. Stylistic considerations belie the tradition which ascribes it to Theocritus.

  Εὐνείκα μ᾽ ἐγέλαξε θέλοντά μιν ἁδὺ φιλῆσαι,

  καί μ᾽ ἐπικερτομέοισα τάδ᾽ ἔννεπεν: ‘ἔρρ᾽ ἀπ᾽ ἐμεῖο.

  βουκόλος ὢν ἐθέλεις με κύσαι τάλαν; οὐ μεμάθηκα

  ἀγροίκως φιλέειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἀστικὰ χείλεα θλίβειν.

  μή τύ γέ μευ κύσσῃς
τὸ καλὸν στόμα μηδ᾽ ἐν ὀνείροις. 5

  οἷα βλέπεις, ὁπποῖα λαλεῖς, ὡς ἄγρια παίσδεις,

  ὡς τρυφέρ᾽ αἰκάλλεις, ὡς κωτίλα ῥήματα φράσδεις:

  ὡς μαλακὸν τὸ γένειον ἔχεις, ὡς ἁδέα χαίταν.

  χείλεά τοι νοσέοντι, χέρες δέ τοι ἐντὶ μέλαιναι,

  καὶ κακὸν ἐξόσδεις. ἀπ᾽ ἐμεῦ φύγε, μή με μολύνῃς.’ 10

  τοιάδε μυθίζοισα τρὶς εἰς ἑὸν ἔπτυσε κόλπον,

  καί μ᾽ ἀπὸ τᾶς κεφαλᾶς ποτὶ τὼ πόδε συνεχὲς εἶδε

  χείλεσι μυχθίζοισα καὶ ὄμμασι λοξὰ βλέποισα,

  καὶ πολὺ τᾷ μορφᾷ θηλύνετο, καί τι σεσαρὸς

  καὶ σοβαρόν μ᾽ ἐγέλαξεν. ἐμοὶ δ᾽ ἄφαρ ἔζεσεν αἷμα, 15

  καὶ χρόα φοινίχθην ὑπὸ τὤλγεος ὡς ῥόδον ἕρσᾳ.

  χἁ μὲν ἔβα με λιποῖσα: φέρω δ᾽ ὑποκάρδιον ὀργάν,

  ὅττί με τὸν χαρίεντα κακὰ μωμήσαθ᾽ ἑταίρα.

  [1] When I would have kissed her sweetly, Eunica fleered at me and flouted me saying, ‘Go with a mischief! What? kiss me miserable clown like thee? I never learned your countrified bussing; my kissing is in the fashion o’ the town. I will not have such as thee to kiss my pretty lips, nay, not in his dreams. Lord, how you look! Lord, how you talk! Lord, how you antic! Your lips are wet and your hands black, and you smell rank. Hold off and begone, or you’ll befoul me!’ Telling this tale she spit thrice in her bosom, and all the while eyed me from top to toe, and mowed at me and leered at me and made much she-play with her pretty looks, and anon did right broadly, scornfully, and disdainfully laugh at me. Trust me, my blood boiled up in a moment, and my face went as red with the anguish of it as the rose with the dewdrops. And so she up and left me, but it rankles in my heart that such a filthy drab should cavil at a well-favoured fellow like me.