Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  Now although I observe that the laudation of the gentleman has been made complete by you, so that nothing remains to be added, yet it is fitting that you also should be praised. For you seem to me to be far superior to all other communities. And I should not have said this if I did not think it so too. For example, all the others have an eye only for what is profitable, and those who give them something — or might do so — alone receive their praise; whereas you regard as of great importance both the earnest desire and the willingness to give. [4] And I do not mean by this that our friend has not really rendered much important service, for he has, but rather that for you at least his mere willingness was sufficient. And again, the others stamp with approval the least important achievements — I mean such things as involve some expenditure of money — whereas you appreciate the greatest things as they deserve. And in fact it is an altogether greater achievement for a man to be really concerned for the city and to show himself well-disposed toward you than it is for him to spend money. Furthermore, while those who admonish, even if only verbally, are hated by most men, but those who delight with flattery are approved to a surprising degree, in your case, on the contrary, he who uses the fullest frankness and reproves those who go astray and tries to bring them to their senses is most admired.

  [5] Who, then, could fail to admire the kind of city and administration in which the honours conferred outweigh the efforts made to obtain them, in which he who admonishes with kindly intent is more beloved than he who speaks to flatter, in which the masses are more eager to submit to correction and to be set right than to be courted and to live luxuriously? Or who could fail to be amazed at you and, on the other hand, to congratulate this man on having been chosen by men like you as worthy to hold office here?

  [6] And yet I myself see that the task that lies before him with regard to you is a great one. For when an entire city and people voluntarily entrusts itself to a man for instruction and chooses him as supervisor of its public morals and gives him the supreme authority over temperance and orderliness and the right conduct of the individual, is that man not confronted by a mighty task, the task of not being found in any way inferior to your opinion of him? But, that you may recognize the truth of what I say, observe that not one of the men of old, not even of those who have always been admired, has gained from his fellow citizens such honour as you have now bestowed. [7] For instance the illustrious Pericles — who, we are told, flourished at Athens when the city was in its prime — though he repeatedly obtained the post of general, was not deemed worthy of holding office all the time. [But Socrates . . .] and that too, not as an administrator of funds nor as one concerned with buildings, but rather with the purpose of making his fellow citizens good men — chose both to admonish the erring ones and, at least so far as lay in his power, to make them better. Yet the men of that day did not tolerate him, because of their own lack of discipline. [8] How far superior, then, are you, who submit yourselves to instruction, yes, even demand it, to those who were irritated even if some one of his own accord was eager to do this for them, and who not merely refrained from honouring, but even put to death the man who tried to take them under his care, as the Athenians did in the case of Socrates!

  Accordingly, what more beautiful eulogy could any one pronounce, either of this man or of yourselves? For since you have seen that he has improved the ephebes and the young men, you immediately jump to the conclusion that he can improve you too. And, by Heaven, it is not true that, while the ephebes have need of instruction and virtue, those who are advanced in years, and in fact the entire city, do not. That would be just as if some physician were to think that boys or young men had need of medical attention, but not the adults. [9] Yet must we not concede that in the matter of honours the city’s magnanimity is surprising? For what mark of highest esteem have you not eagerly conferred? Have you not voted portraits, statues, embassies to the cities and to the Emperor? Have you not shown honour by public recognition; have you not shown honour by individual greeting? Therefore what man would not be pleased when these rewards are so distinguished? Or what man would not be eager to do you any service in his power? Well then, I at least believe I have spoken in praise of this man too as effectively as I could; for the eulogy directed toward those who approve and honour a man clearly would be that man’s highest praise.

  THE FIFTY-SECOND DISCOURSE: ON AESCHYLUS AND SOPHOCLES AND EURIPIDES OR THE BOW OF PHILOCTETES

  This Discourse is not merely an interesting bit of ancient literary criticism but also our chief source of information as to two of the three plays with which it deals, the Philoctetes of Aeschylus and that of Euripides, both known to-day only in scanty fragments. In Or. Dio presents in prose paraphrase the prologue of a Philoctetes, which by means of the present Discourse is recognized as that of Euripides, together with a portion of the ensuing dialogue between Odysseus and Philoctetes. The Euripidean play clearly appealed to Dio’s rhetorical instincts; yet we are reminded of the situation in the Frogs of Aristophanes, the god of the drama yielding the palm to Aeschylus, though unmistakably prejudiced in favour of Euripides.

  There was little occasion for Homer to refer to Philoctetes, whom he names in only three passages. His most illuminating reference is Il. 2.716-726, from which we learn that Homer at least knew the story. Fuller details were obtainable from three epics belonging to what is known as the Cycle — the Cypria, the Little Iliad, and the Iliupersis. The high points in the epic version are as follows. Heracles, out of gratitude for services rendered, had given Philoctetes his bow and arrows, once the property of Apollo. When the Greeks sailed for Troy, Philoctetes guided them to the island of Chrysê, where they were to offer sacrifice. There a venomous serpent bit Philoctetes on the foot. His cries of anguish and the stench of his wound caused the Greeks to abandon him on the shores of Lemnos. Ten years later, when the Greek fortunes were at a low ebb, upon the advice of the seer Calchas and by the stratagem of Odysseus the Trojan seer Helenus was taken captive. He revealed that Troy could be taken only with the aid of Philoctetes and his bow, and that Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles, must come from Scyros. Accordingly Diomedes is sent for Philoctetes and Odysseus for Neoptolemus. Philoctetes is healed of his wound, slays Paris, and in company with Neoptolemus causes the downfall of Troy. For further details the reader is referred to the introduction to Jebb’s edition of the Philoctetes of Sophocles.

  The occasion on which our Discourse was delivered is unknown. Dio’s reference to the chill of the morning might suggest his home in Prusa as the setting for his adventure in dramatic criticism. His allusion to ill health and his manifest sympathy for the lonely Philoctetes, victim of misfortune, suggest the period subsequent to Dio’s exile as the time of composition.

  The Fifty-second Discourse: On Aeschylus and Sophocles and Euripides or The Bow of Philoctetes

  Having risen about the first hour of the day, both on account of the feeble state of my health and also on account of the air, which was rather chilly because of the early hour and very much like autumn, though it was mid-summer, I made my toilet and performed my devotions. I next got into my carriage and made the round of the race-course several times, my team moving along as gently and comfortably as possible. After that I took a stroll and then rested a bit. Next, after a rub-down and bath and a light breakfast, I fell to reading certain tragedies.

  [2] These tragedies were the work of topmost artists, I may say, Aeschylus and Sophocles and Euripides, all dealing with the same theme, which was the theft — or should I say the seizure? — of the bow of Philoctetes. However that may be, Philoctetes was portrayed as being deprived of his weapons by Odysseus and as being carried off to Troy along with them, for the most part willingly, though in some measure also yielding to the persuasion of necessity, since he had been deprived of the weapons which furnished him with not only a living on his island, but courage in his sore affliction, and at the same time fame.

  [3] So I was feasting my eyes on the spectacle portrayed by these dramas and
figuring to myself that, even if I had been in Athens in those days, I could not have witnessed such a contest as this of those distinguished poets. On the contrary, while there were some who did witness contests between the youthful Sophocles and the aged Aeschylus and some who saw the older Sophocles compete with Euripides, his junior, yet the career of Euripides fell quite outside the period of Aeschylus; and besides, probably the tragic poets seldom or never competed against one another with plays on the same theme. And so I was evidently having a rare treat and a novel solace for my illness. [4] Accordingly, I played choregus for myself in very brilliant style and tried to pay close attention, as if I were a judge passing judgement on the premier tragic choruses.

  Yet I could not on oath have produced a single reason why any one of those great poets could have been defeated. For both the nobility of character and the antique flavour of Aeschylus, as well as the ruggedness of his thought and diction, seemed suited to tragedy and to the old-time manners of the heroes, nor was there aught of premeditation or prating or humility in their bearing. [5] For example, even his Odysseus he brought upon the scene as a shrewd and crafty person, as men were in those days, yet far removed from the rascality of to-day, in consequence of which he might seem truly ancient as compared with those who to-day lay claim to simplicity and nobility of character. And again, Aeschylus had no need to add Athena for the purpose of transforming Odysseus so as not to be recognized by Philoctetes for the man he was, as Homer has handled the problem, and also Euripides in imitation of Homer. So possibly one of those who do not like Aeschylus might complain that he was not at all concerned to make his Odysseus convincing in the scene where he is not recognized by Philoctetes. [6] But in my opinion the poet would have a defence against such a criticism; for while the lapse of time was perhaps not sufficient to explain his not recalling the lineaments of Odysseus since only ten years had passed, yet the affliction and distress of Philoctetes and the lonely life he had led in the interval made this lapse of memory not impossible. For many in the past, either from illness or from misfortune, have had that experience.

  Furthermore, the chorus of Aeschylus had no need for special pleading, as did that of Euripides. [7] For both poets made their choruses to consist of Lemnians; yet, while Euripides has represented them as immediately apologizing for their former neglect, admitting that during so many years they had neither come near Philoctetes nor rendered him any aid, Aeschylus simply brought his chorus on the scene, a course which is altogether more in keeping with a tragedy and more natural, whereas the other course is more courteous and more strictly correct. Of course, if poets, were able to avoid all violations of logic in their tragedies, perhaps there might be reason for refusing to gloss over even this instance; but as the truth is, the poets often cause their heralds to complete in a single day a journey which calls for several days. [8] Again, it was quite impossible to conceive that not a single Lemnian had come near Philoctetes or given him any attention at all, for in my opinion he could not even have survived those ten years without receiving some aid; no, it is reasonable to suppose that he did get some aid, though but rarely and of no great importance, and, furthermore, that no one chose to take him into his house and give him medical attention because of the disgusting nature of his ailment. At any rate Euripides himself does bring upon the scene one Lemnian, Actor, who approaches Philoctetes as being already known to him and as having often met him.

  [9] Furthermore, I do not feel that one could justly find fault with Aeschylus for this either — that his hero narrates to the chorus, as if they were in ignorance, the details concerning his desertion by the Achaeans and his experiences in general. The reason is that the victims of misfortune are wont to recall their trials repeatedly, and by their constant rehearsing of details they bore those who know every detail already and have no need to be told. Then again, the deception which Odysseus practised upon Philoctetes and the arguments by which he won him over are not merely more becoming and suited to a hero — though not the words of a Eurybates or a Pataecion — but in my opinion they are even more plausible. [10] For what need was there for subtle craft and scheming in dealing with a sick man and, what is more, an archer, whose means of defence had lost its power the moment you merely got close to him? Besides, the device of having Odysseus report that the Achaeans had met with disaster, that Agamemnon had died, that Odysseus had been charged with an act that was utterly disgraceful, and that in general the expedition had gone to rack and ruin, was not merely serviceable toward cheering Philoctetes and making the discourse of Odysseus more acceptable; no, in a way it was not without plausibility even, because of the length of the campaign and because of what had happened not so long before in consequence of the wrath of Achilles, at the time when Hector barely missed burning the naval station.

  [11] Again, the sagacity of Euripides and his careful attention to every detail, as a result of which not only does he not tolerate anything which lacks plausibility or is marred by carelessness, but also he handles the action, not in artless style, but with entire mastery in the telling — all this forms, as it were, an antithesis to the nature of Aeschylus, being to a high degree characteristic of the citizen and the orator and capable of proving most useful to those who read him. At the very outset of Euripides’ play, for instance, Odysseus is introduced as speaker of the prologue and as not only inwardly debating questions of civic nature in general, but first and foremost expressing embarrassment on his own account, lest, while generally reputed to be wise and distinguished for sagacity, he may really be the opposite. [12] For, though he might live free from care and trouble, he is ever being involved in troubles and perils of his own volition. But the cause of this, he claims, is the ambition which actuates gifted men of noble birth. For, in aiming at a fine reputation and general acclaim, they voluntarily undertake very great and difficult labours.

  For nothing quite so proud as man exists.

  Odysseus then reveals clearly and precisely the plot of the drama and why he has come to Lemnos. [13] And he says he has been disguised by Athena, so that when he meets Philoctetes he may not be recognized by him, Euripides having imitated Homer in this detail. For Homer has represented Odysseus, in his sundry encounters with Eumaeus and Penelopê and the others, as having been disguised by Athena. Odysseus goes on to say that an embassy from the Trojans will soon visit Philoctetes for the purpose of entreating him to place at their disposal both himself and their weapons, offering the throne of Troy as his reward; thus he complicates the plot and invents occasions for debate, in the course of which he shows himself most resourceful and most proficient in combating the opposing arguments, no matter with whom he is compared. [14] Again, Euripides causes Odysseus to arrive not unattended but in company with Diomedes, another Homeric touch. Thus all in all, as I was saying, throughout the whole play he displays the greatest dexterity and plausibility in the action; an irresistible, yes, amazing, power of language; a dialogue that is clear and natural and urbane; and lyrics that not only are delightful but also contain a strong incentive toward virtue.

  [15] As for Sophocles, he seems to stand midway between the two others, since he has neither the ruggedness and simplicity of Aeschylus nor the precision and shrewdness and urbanity of Euripides, yet he produces a poetry that is august and majestic, highly tragic and euphonious in its phrasing, so that there is the fullest pleasure coupled with sublimity and stateliness. In his management of the action he is most excellent and convincing; for instance, he causes Odysseus to arrive in company with Neoptolemus — since it was ordained that Troy should be taken by Neoptolemus and Philoctetes together, Philoctetes wielding the bow of Heracles — and he makes Odysseus conceal himself but send Neoptolemus to Philoctetes, suggesting to him what he must do. Furthermore, he has composed his chorus not of the natives of Lemnos, as Aeschylus and Euripides do, but of those who sailed in the ship along with Odysseus and Neoptolemus.

  [16] Again, as Sophocles portrays them, the characters in the drama are wonderfully dignifi
ed and noble, his Odysseus being much more gentle and frank than Euripides has depicted him, and his Neoptolemus surpassing all in artlessness and good breeding — at first he aims to get the better of Philoctetes, not by craft and deception, but by strength and without disguise; then, after he has been prevailed upon by Odysseus and has tricked Philoctetes and gained possession of the bow, when Philoctetes becomes aware of what had happened, is indignant at the deception which has been practised upon him, and demands the return of his weapons, Neoptolemus does not try to retain possession of them but is prepared to return them — though Odysseus appears on the scene and tries to prevent this — and he finally does return them; yet after he has handed them over he tries by argument to persuade Philoctetes to accompany him voluntarily to Troy. [17] But when Philoctetes will by no means yield or be persuaded, but entreats Neoptolemus to take him back to Greece, as he had promised to do, Neoptolemus once more gives his promise, and he is prepared to keep his word, until Heracles comes upon the scene and persuades Philoctetes to sail to Troy of his own free will.

  The lyrics of Sophocles do not contain the didactic element to any great extent, nor any incentive to virtue such as we find in the lyrics of Euripides, but a marvellous sweetness and magnificence, such that Aristophanes could say of him not without reason words like these:

  But he in turn the lips of Sophocles,

  With honey smeared, did lick as if as a jar.

  THE FIFTY-THIRD DISCOURSE: ON HOMER

  This Discourse, like the one preceding, lies mainly in the field of literary criticism. However, it contains less suggestion of independent judgement, being in the main a cursory survey of what various philosophers have thought and said about Homer. The fundamental importance of Homer in the scheme of Greek education is too well known to require documentation. If we may trust the words of the Greeks of the classic period, they gave little thought to the beauty of his language, prizing him rather than as a teacher par excellence. Dio, on the other hand, shows a consciousness of the beauty of his work. That he should have stressed in his appraisal of the poet the views of the philosophers, and above all Plato, was only to be expected. His familiarity with those views points to a relatively late period in his career as the time of composition of our Discourse.