The Thebaid

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by Publius Papinius Statius


  when Jupiter pours water on his daughter.

  And there were those that swift Asterion

  circled around, as does the Erasinus,

  which washes grain from the Dryopians

  in Epirus, and those who tend the fields

  of Epidaurus, where the hillsides suit

  the grapes of Bacchus, not the grains of Ceres,

  • whose temple is in Sicily, at Enna.

  Hard-to-reach Dyme sent assistance; Pylos,

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  Neleus’s city, dense battalions: Pylos

  • was not yet famous, for though Nestor had

  su≈cient youth in middle age, he would

  not join a doomed campaign. These, then, the troops

  BOOK ∂ ∫π

  whom tall Hippomedon preceded and

  filled with a passion for his fortitude.

  His head shook his brass helmet, crested by

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  three tiers of snow-white plumage; iron mail

  beneath his armor rubbed his sides; a flamebright

  orb was on his torso and displayed,

  • in living gold, the night of Danaus,

  whose fifty guilty daughters’ chambers blaze

  dark with the wedding torches of the Furies.

  This wickedness incites their father’s praise—

  he witnesses their swords through bloody doorways.

  Down from the citadel of Pallas on

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  a Nemean charger came Hippomedon.

  • War terrified his steed. Its flying shadow

  covered the field and stirred long plumes of dust.

  • Not otherwise Hylaeus speeds—half-man,

  half-horse—through forests from his mountain cave,

  • shaping with both his chests an open path

  that frightens Ossa. Fearful cattle, beasts

  that cause fear, fall. Even his brothers feel

  his terror till he takes a giant leap,

  dives in the waters of the Peneus,

  and dams the mighty river with his body.

  What mortal voice is competent to count

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  the numbers of his weapons, powers, peoples?

  Tiryns, the town of Hercules, responded.

  She was not barren of brave men or less

  productive since when her great son won fame,

  but inactivity decayed her fortune;

  she had no capital to finance strength.

  From empty fields a lonely citizen

  might point at towers the sweat of Cyclops built.

  Nevertheless, she sent three hundred men

  to war—so strong they seemed more numerous.

  Their heads and shoulders bore bu√ lion skins,

  the marker of their tribe. They were equipped

  with pinewood stakes and inexhaustible

  quivers containing sheaves of javelins.

  ∫∫ STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  Their spears lacked straps; they could not buy bright swords,

  but they sang hymns to Hercules, the god

  who cleared the world of monsters and who heard

  • their song on leafy Oete, far away.

  Nemea sent a retinue, as did

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  the sacred vineyards of Cleonae, where

  • Molorchus lived. His dwelling won renown

  for welcoming the god whose arms appear

  depicted on its willow doors, while in

  its small-scale fields you might see where he set

  his club down, and the holm oak where he leaned

  his unstrung bow, and where his elbow left

  traces of his existence on the earth.

  –?–?–?–

  Viewing the war a head above the others

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  came Capaneus, who upheld hides torn

  from four unmastered oxen and the weight

  of heavy layers of sti√ bronze on his shield,

  • which showed a branching, triple-headed Hydra,

  recently slaughtered, rigid. Living snakes

  shone in relief, engraved in textured silver,

  while other features, by a hidden art

  of working tawny gold, in death turned dark.

  Slow Lerna’s steel-blue river rimmed the scene.

  His vast expanse of chest and spacious sides

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  were kept protected by a corselet tied

  together by uncountable steel joints,

  a rugged vest—no woman’s work—and on

  the top part of his shining helmet stood

  a giant. No one else could launch his spear

  of smooth-shaved cypress with its point of steel.

  • The troops assigned to his command were born

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  in ample, lush Amphigenia or

  flat Messene or mountainous Ithome,

  Thryon or Aepy, in the highest hills,

  Helos or Pteleon or Dorion,

  BOOK ∂ ∫Ω

  which mourns for Thamyris, the Getic bard.

  • This Thamyris believed he could surpass

  the learned Muses of Aonia,

  but he was quickly silenced and condemned

  never to sing or play his harp again,

  for who can face divinities and scorn them?

  He had not heard about Apollo’s contest

  with Marsyas, which made Celaenas famous

  where Phoebus hung the Satyr up to die.

  –?–?–?–

  By now the fortunetelling prophet’s mind

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  was weakening from pressure. He indeed

  foresaw disasters, read distressing signs,

  but Atropos herself took arms against

  his hesitation and she overthrew

  • the god in him. The ruses of his wife

  had not abated, and forbidden gold

  already flashed and glittered in his home.

  The Fates had warned Amphiaraus that

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  this gold would kill him, and his wicked wife

  knew it. Here is the horror then, that she

  loved frippery and not her husband’s life.

  She wore what she had wrangled from Argia

  in order to assert her eminence.

  Argia saw that if Amphiaraus,

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  the hero blessed with foresight, did not join

  the expedition, then morale would su√er

  among the men who bore the weight of war,

  so she was willing to divest the sacred

  bosom her husband Polynices loved.

  She did not mourn the loss of ornaments,

  but said, ‘‘The times are not appropriate

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  for me to wear bright jewels. Why should I dress

  my wretched beauty while you march away?

  People feel waves of fear—they are the ones

  I must beguile. My hair shall be undone

  and sweep across their altars. Certainly

  Ω≠ STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  it would be reprehensible for me

  to wear the dowry of Harmonia,

  her wealth in gold, when your face is concealed

  inside a threatening helmet and the steel

  you wear reverberates. And it may be

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  more fitting and more glorious for me

  to outdress other Argive wives when my

  husband becomes a king, when he is safe,

  and I fill temples with thanksgiving choirs.

  Let Eriphyle wear what she desires

  and frolic while her prophet husband fights!’’

  That was the way the fatal jewelry reached211

  the home of Eriphyle, where it sowed

  the seeds of powerful impieties

  and made the Fury named Tisiphone

  laugh loudly and rejoice in destiny.

  Amphiaraus drove Taenarian steeds

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&nbs
p; engendered by the Centaur Cyllarus

  in secret, so that Castor did not know

  the ill-matched intercourse that bred those foals.

  He wore Parnassian woolen bands to show

  his status as a prophet: olives wigged

  his helmet, and white, narrow ribbons twined

  and twisted through his purple-colored crest.

  His hands were busy with his horses’ reins,

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  and trembling iron javelins fenced his chariot.

  He threatened, like a comet in the distance;

  his bright shield showed the Python Phoebus killed.

  • Troops joined him from Amyclae, where Apollo

  is worshiped, and from Pylos and Malea,

  which careful ships avoid, and Caryae,

  whose hymns provoke Diana’s praise, and Pharis,

  and Cytherean Messe, which breeds doves.

  A hard band from the stream of swans, Eurotas,

  descended in a phalanx from Taygetus.

  Mercury (born Arcadian) had trained

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  these men in blood and dust, provoked their stark

  BOOK ∂ Ω∞

  aggression, and instilled them with his rage.

  He sti√ened their resolve and made it sacred

  to die with honor. Young men wept if one

  should die in battle, but the mother would

  accept a funeral wreath. The fate that they

  encouraged for their children pleased the parents.

  Their javelins had double thongs; their reins

  sat in their hands; their backs were unrestrained;

  they wore broad, rough wool mantles, and

  • swan feathers peaked their helmets, nor were they

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  the only ones to serve Amphiaraus:

  Elis, which spreads across a hill, had sent

  a company, and so had lowland Pisa,

  whose people swim your yellow streams, Alpheus,

  which flow to Sicily but never take—

  however long the journey—sea-wave taint.

  Uncountable the chariots that churned

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  the worn-out plowlands, and the horses tamed

  for war. The widespread glory of the race

  survived the broken axles and the foul

  customs of Oenomaus. Foaming bits

  rattled the horses’ teeth, and white saliva

  bedewed the sandy soil their footfalls furrowed.

  –?–?–?–

  Parthenopaeus, inexperienced

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  and young: you also led Arcadians—

  you were so eager to achieve renown.

  • His mother did not know it yet—or he

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  would not have been allowed to go—for she

  (wild Atalanta) with her bow was then,

  by chance, establishing the peace in distant

  woodlands and chill Lycaeus. Now, her son

  was handsomer of face than anyone

  who sallied to the hazards of the war,

  and he was spirited. Would he had aged

  till he was stronger! He ignited flames

  in every forest nymph and river goddess

  Ω≤ STATIUS, THE THEBAID

  or deity residing in a valley.

  They say Diana—even she—forgave

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  her follower when in Maenalian shades

  she saw the young man’s light steps skim the grass.

  She gave him Cretan weapons and a quiver

  of Amyclaean arrows for his shoulder.

  He ripened with a daring love for war,

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  hot to hear horns and weapons, to befoul

  his blond hair with the dust of battle, to

  capture a rival’s horse and ride it home.

  The groves grew tedious; he felt ashamed

  his arrows did not yet know human blood.

  He shone with flaming purple, fiery gold:

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  Iberian embroidery made folds

  along his flowing tunic, and his shield,

  unsuited to the wars, displayed his mother’s

  • battles in Calydonia. His bow

  • rang fiercely on his left. Cydonean arrows

  rattled the quiver hanging down his back,

  set with pale amber, bright with eastern jasper.

  Accustomed to outracing startled stags,

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  his horn-foot horse was now amazed to feel

  twin lynx-hide blankets and the extra weight

  the young armed hero carried as he rode,

  high on his horse—a sight!—with cheeks of rose.

  A loyal army was delivered by

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  that ancient people, the Arcadians—

  said to be older than the stars and moon,

  and born from rigid tree trunks in the woods

  when earth first saw the prints of human feet

  and felt amazement in the times before

  cities or fields or houses or the ways

  of married life. Oak trees and laurel trees

  bore tender children, and the ash produced

  both shade and babies, and the wild ash dropped

  young infants it had carried. It is said

  that Titan’s alternation with the shades

  BOOK ∂ Ω≥

  of night perplexed these people, who pursued

  the setting sun, afraid of losing light.

  Farms on Maenalos lacked inhabitants, and forests

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  • on Mount Parthenius were emptied. Rhipe

  and Stratie, Enispe with its winds,

  • sent men to war. Not Tegea or Cyllene—

  home to a god and fortunate—stood idle,

  nor did Minerva’s forest temple at

  Alea, nor rapid Clitor, nor the one

  named Ladon—who, o Pythian, was almost

  father-in-law to you—nor bright Lampia,

  • on ridges white with snow, nor Pheneos,

  believed to send the Styx to darkest Dis.

  • Azan came too, whose howling mobs could rival

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  those on Mount Ida, and the countryside

  of Sicily that pleased the quiver-bearing

  Thunderer, bringing laughter to Amores

  (divinities of Love); and cattle-rich

  Orchomenus was there, and Cynosura,

  a town where savage animals abounded.

  The fields of Aepy and the peaks of Psophis

  were emptied by identical desires,

  • as were the mountains Hercules made famous

  by feats of strength: boar-bearing Erymanthos

  and tintinnabulous-in-bronze Stymphalos.

  These, then, were the Arcadians: one race,

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  but made distinct by di√erent traditions.

  Some bent the lower stems of Paphian myrtle;

 

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