∞≥Π STATIUS, THE THEBAID
There always is some cause when Venus comes
and shows herself in shadows to amaze me.
‘‘Which gods should I reprove? Why should not I
624
confess, who am to die, that it was I
who left you unattended to your fate?
What madness overcame my mind? Can great
preoccupations cause such disregard?
I—who retold my country’s history
and my ambitious origins and fame—
o Lemnos, I excuse you for your crimes!
‘‘Gentlemen, if you all appreciate
628
my worthiness and hardships, if my words
have stirred your gratitude, place me before
the deadly snake or kill me with your swords,
but do not make me face the family
whose slave I am or see Eurydice
in her bereavement—though she cannot grieve
more than I do. Am I to bear the weight
of this dead baby to its mother’s lap?
May earth first bury me beneath deep shades!’’
Blood and dirt grimed her face while she was speaking,
635
then silently she turned and walked behind
those princes as they mourned—those men she blamed
for what the journey to the river cost her.
–?–?–?–
News reached the household of devout Lycurgus
638
and left him and his family in tears.
He was returning from the sacred heights
• of Perseus’s mountain, where the Thunderer
had angrily refused his sacrifice.
He wondered why the entrails were averse.
He had remained aloof, while Argives armed,
643
to tend his shrines and temples—not a coward,
but mindful of responses of the gods
and ancient warnings given by a voice
BOOK Σ ∞≥π
that from beneath his altar spoke: ‘‘Lycurgus,
the first death in the Dircean war is yours!’’
He heeded, but it tortured him to see
the dust of Mars so near, and he felt envy
for those whom trumpets forewarned death in battle.
See how the gods maintain their promises!
650
She who’d escorted Thoas now conveyed
the lacerated remnants of a baby
before his mother and her women and
long lines of mourners. How his pious heart
impelled Lycurgus! He was overwhelmed
but held paternal tears back and advanced
despite his frenzied anger and his pain
with quick steps over intervening fields.
He cried out, ‘‘Where is she for whom my blood
matters so little, who rejoices in
my harm? Is she still living? Seize her then,
and bring her quickly, friends! I’ll put an end
to all her tales of Lemnos and her father,
her lies and pride in sacred origins!’’
He raged, his sword was out, and he stepped forward,
660
about to murder her, when Tydeus
stopped him and rammed his shield against his chest:
the Oenian hero quickly intervened,
gnashing his teeth, and saying, ‘‘Stop this madness,
whoever you may be. Don’t play the fool!’’
Now Capaneus backed him up, and brutal
664
Hippomedon held out his sword, as did
Parthenopaeus, and the flashing glints
weakened Lycurgus’s will, and that of his
supporters, who were only farmers, till
mild-mannered King Adrastus intervened.
Amphiaraus, who respected him
669
because they both were augurers, exclaimed:
‘‘Desist, I pray you! Put away your swords!
We are one people. Do not yield to anger.
∞≥∫ STATIUS, THE THEBAID
Tydeus, you first!’’ But Tydeus could not ever
control himself. ‘‘She saved a kingdom and
her father Thoas. Glorious Bacchus was
the founder of her race. She was our guide,
the savior of the Argive troops. And do
you think that to avenge so small a death,
all these ungrateful troops will let you stain
a gravesite with her blood? You are a coward!
Armies move everywhere, but you alone
have peace in time of war. That should su≈ce!
No doubt when we return victorious,
we’ll find you blaming fate at your son’s tomb!’’
He spoke. Lycurgus answered, but his speech
680
was moderate, his rage restrained: ‘‘Indeed,
I did not realize your goal was Thebes.
I took you for a hostile force. Proceed
with your destruction, if your pleasure is
the blood of kindred. Stain your civil swords.
What is not lawful? Exile piety,
for it has long been useless. Burn Jove’s temples.
I thought I was my low slave’s lord and master,
but that sticks in your throat and makes you grieve.
The king of gods sees your audacity.
His anger may be slow, but it will be.’’
He spoke, then looked back at his city, where
689
another contest echoed from the roofs.
It seemed like war. Fresh Rumor had outstripped
the flying wings of horsemen, and her pinions
transported trouble of two kinds. Some said
Hypsipyle was carried to her fate;
some said she was about to die—as she
deserved. Some gave the rumors credence, and
their anger was immediate. Their javelins
and torches struck the palace of the king.
The people called for revolution, to
topple Lycurgus and his shrines to Jove.
The buildings echoed with the chants of women.
Grief for the boy gave way to fear of war.
BOOK Σ ∞≥Ω
A chariot, drawn by wing-footed steeds,
699
carried Adrastus high above the crowds
of raging warriors. He brought the daughter
of Thoas to their midst and cried, ‘‘Desist,
desist! No outrage has been done. Lycurgus
does not deserve death. Here you may observe
the one who found the river that preserved us!’’
At times diverging tempests—Boreas,
704
Eurus, and Auster—darken seas with rain,
day vanishes, and winter weather reigns.
The high king of the ocean guides his steeds,
• and by his foaming reins the two-formed Triton
signals the waves he swims to moderate:
• Thetis lies flat; the coasts and hillsides rise.
Which of the gods to whom she prayed consoled
710
her losses and requited tears? You, Bacchus,
the founder of her people, made her fate
miraculous, by carrying her twins
from Lemnean shores to Nemea. They’d traveled
to find their mother, and Lycurgus had
given them hospitality before
he heard a messenger inform him that
his son, dismembered horribly, had died.
The minds of men are blind to destiny.
714
The sons of Jason o√ered their support,
favored the king, but when they heard the sound
of ‘‘Lemnos,’’ the word ‘‘Thoas,’’ they rushed past
the weapons and the soldiers to
embrace
their mother in their eager arms. They wept
and hugged her, alternating, each in turn.
Like some rock cli√, she could not move her face,
723
dared not believe the gods to whom she prayed.
Her mourning ended when she recognized
their faces, Jason’s shoulders, and some signs
of Argos on the swords that Jason owned.
She fell down, overcome by her good fortune,
and tears were overflowing from her eyes.
∞∂≠ STATIUS, THE THEBAID
Heaven gave demonstrations of the god,
729
and joyous revels echoed through the air,
the sound of cymbals, and the beat of drums.
When silence settled on the angry mob,
731
Amphiaraus, pious son of Oecleus,
addressed attendant ears: ‘‘Hear what Apollo
commands you and makes clear that you must do,
o king of Nemea, and chosen Argive
leaders! This tragedy has not been unappointed
from of old. Straight runs the line
drawn by the Parcae, who control our fate.
The drought, the interdicted streams, the snake
that kills, the little boy, whom it is now
our destiny to name Archemorus:
all these descended from the gods’ high minds.
Postpone your purpose. Lay aside your weapons.
This infant must have honors that endure.
Truth is, he merits them. Let Virtue’s hands
pour out libations, blessings to the gods.
‘‘Continue interweaving more delays,
742
o Phoebus. Keep us out of fortune’s frays,
and let the thought of Thebes just fade away.
‘‘But you, o happy couple, whose good fortune
746
surpasses that of other noble parents,
your name will be remembered through the centuries.
While there is swamp at Lerna and a current
748
for father Inachus, while Nemea’s
shadows fall trembling on the ground, do not
profane these sacred rites with weeping or
be plaintive to the gods, for he himself,
your own son, is a god. He’d not have wanted
old age to be his destiny, like Nestor,
or live long years, as Priam will.’’ He ended.
Dark veiled the infant’s shade. The night descended.
–?–?–?–__
BOOK 6 Funeral Games
The Argives found the Nemean games in honor of the infant Arch-emorus. The mourning of King Lycurgus and his wife Eurydice. Two funeral pyres. The parade of figures from the history of Argos. The chariot race won by Amphiaraus, the prophet. Parthenopaeus, the Arcadian, wins the foot race. Hippomedon wins the discus. Capaneus boxes. Tydeus is the champion wrestler, despite his smallness. The omen of Adrastus’s arrow: he alone will return.
Far-wandering Rumor flew through Grecian cities.
The men of Argos, sons of Inachus,
would solemnize, with games, the infant’s death.
Their purpose—to prepare for war, perspire
beforehand, lend their fortitude some fire.
• Such contests were the custom of the Greeks.
5
The pious Hercules was first to fight
in Pisan fields for glory; there he wiped
• wild olive leaves across his dusty forehead.
The next games were in honor of Apollo,
8
whose bow and arrows, when he was a boy,
freed Phocis from the tangles of a serpent.
Dark, superstitious rites began in Corinth,
10
soon after Delphi and Olympia,
to serve Palaemon, where Leucothea
would sojourn in the time of festival
on friendly shores and moan. Her lamentations
would shake both sides of Isthmos, and sad Thebes,
Echion’s city, would reecho these.
–?–?–?–
And now the leading men, whose breeding gives
15
Argos a link to heaven, men whose names
∞∂≤ STATIUS, THE THEBAID
grieve mothers in Aonia and Thebes,
joined in their naked prowess to compete.
So bireme ships that dare the unknown seas,
Tyrrhenian rainstorms, or the smooth Aegean,
first practice on a tranquil lake and learn
to row together, steer, and handle danger.
Only with this experience do they
attempt upswelling waves and distances
where shores fade and no longer hold their gaze.
The horn of Sleep was empty. He and Night
25
left heaven as the chariot of bright
Aurora brought day labor, and pale light
the wakeful horses of the goddess cast
pursued them. Lamentation in the streets,
low sounds of groaning in the mournful palace
sounded through pathless forests far away
and there reechoed. He, the father, sat
divested of the honor of his fillets,
covered with ashen grime. His face was filthy,
his beard unkempt. More bitter was his wife:
her lamentations stirred her female servants
33
to act as if they too were childless parents.
She longed to lie on top of her torn baby;
she would have done so, but they led her o√.
Even the king condemned her excess grief.
Soon the Inachian leadership arrived
37
and they behaved with solemn dignity,
but when they reached the inner atria
it was as if the infant died again,
as if the fatal serpent had slipped in
to scourge him with another deadly blow.
The cries redoubled, although breasts were weary.
One followed from the next until the sounds
combined and made the doors reverberate.
The Greeks sensed this ill-will and showed
their own tears in atonement for their crime.
As often as the stricken house was silent,
45
during the intermissions in the tumult,
BOOK Π ∞∂≥
Adrastus o√ered words of consolation
to King Lycurgus, uselessly observing
how hard Fate makes men’s lives, how short
the thread of life lasts, saying gods would grant
permanent pledges to him, other children,
but even as he spoke, laments renewed,
and he was listened to no more than are
Ionian sailors’ vows when fierce seas seethe
or slender clouds no wandering lightnings heed.
It was with sadness that the infant’s bier—
The Thebaid Page 24