PLUTARCH: EXTRACT FROM "ON THE DECLINE OF ORACLES"

Introduction.

Sections 419B-420A (or 17-18).

Great Pan is dead.

This dialogue is set in Delphi in about 83 A.D. A group of learned men are discussing how oracular prophecy works, and why oracles have become less vocal and important than in the classical past. The conversation has turned to "daimones" (divine spirits, spoken of by Hesiod and Plato, as intermediaries between gods and men); the question whether divine beings can die elicits from a historian called Philip the haunting story of the death of Pan. Because the events described took place during the reign of the Roman emperor Tiberius (14-37 A.D.), Christian legend was later able to claim that they coincided in time with the crucifixion of Jesus,  and  therefore that they represented the demise of paganism.

The story, and the general theme of the dialogue, have had considerable literary influence. John Milton wrote in his "Hymn: On the Morning of Christ's Nativity":

"The oracles are dumb,

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roofs in words deceiving."

And Elizabeth Barrett Browning in "The Dead Pan" (1844) reworked Plutarch thus:

"And that dismal cry rose slowly

And sank slowly through the air,

Full of spirit's melancholy

And eternity's despair!

And they heard the words it said - 

Pan is dead - Great Pan is dead - 

       Pan is dead."

In the final part of the passage the contribution of the grammarian Demetrius, who is on his way home from Britain to Tarsus, throws light on the exploration of the British Isles during the governorship of Agricola (77-85 A.D.)

The text of this extract from Plutarch's "De defectu oraculorum", and this introductory prologue, are taken from "A Greek Anthology", JACT, Cambridge University Press, 2002.  

But concerning the death of such beings I have heard the report of a man (who was) not foolish or deceitful. For he was Epitherses, the father of Aemilianus the orator whom some of you have even listened to, my fellow-citizen and a teacher of grammar. This man said that once, (while) sailing to Italy, he embarked upon a ship carrying commercial goods and many passengers. And in due course at evening time the wind dropped around the Echinades islands and the drifting ship came near to (the islands) of Paxi; and most of the passengers were awake, and many also still drinking after dinner (lit. having dined). And suddenly a voice was heard from (one) of the islands of the Paxi, of someone calling Thamus so loudly  that they were amazed. Now Thamus was an Egyptian pilot, but not known by name to many on board. And so, having been called twice, he was silent, but the third time he answered the person calling (him). And that person, raising his voice, said, "When you come opposite to the Palodes, announce that Great Pan is dead." Epitherses said that all who heard this were astounded, holding a discussion among themselves as to whether it was best to do what had been commanded or not to meddle and to let (things) alone, (but) Thamus decided thus, that, if there were wind, to sail past keeping a quiet stillness, but that, (if there were) a calm around the place, to announce what he had heard. And so, when they came to the Palodes, there being neither wind nor wave, Thamus, looking from the stern to the land, said (the words) as he heard (them) that Great Pan was dead. No sooner had he stopped (speaking) than a mighty groaning, mixed at the same time with (exclamations of) amazement, occurred, not from one person but from many people. And, as is natural with many being present, the word soon spread throughout Rome, and Thamus, having been sent for, came to be sent for by Tiberius Caesar. And Tiberius believed his word to such an extent that he made enquiry and investigated about Pan. And the scholars around him, who were (lit. being) many, conjectured that he had been born of Hermes and Penelope.  

Moreover, Philip had some of those present as witnesses (who were) scholars of old Aemilianus.

And Demetrius reported that many of the islands around Britain (i.e. the Scillies) were desolate (and) scattered, of which some were named after divine beings and heroes. And he himself sailed at the command of the emperor for the purpose of enquiry and observation to the nearest lying of the desolate (islands), having not many inhabitants, all being revered and unharmed by the Britons. And he, having just arrived, there occurred a mighty tumult in the air and many portents, and winds swept down and lightning-flashes fell; and, when this abated, the islanders said that the passing of one of the mightier (souls) had happened. "For, as a lamp (when) lit," they said, "does nothing terrible, but (when) extinguished is distressing to many, so these great souls give forth a gentle and inoffensive light, but the passing and dissolution of them often, as indeed now, foster winds and storms, and often infect the air with pestilential conditions." However, there was one island there, in which Cronus was confined, guarded by Briareus while he sleeps (lit. sleeping); for they had devised sleep as a bondage for him, and there were about him many daemonic attendants and servants. 

THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA: EXTRACT FROM PLUTARCH'S "LIFE OF ANTONY"

Introduction.

Plutarch (c. 46-120 A.D.), biographer, historian and moral philosopher, was born in Boeotia in central Greece, studied at Athens, visited Egypt and Italy, and spent the last thirty years of his life in Boeotia and Delphi. His most famous work is his "Parallel Lives", in which the life of an eminent Greek is paired with that of a famous Roman with whom there were, in his view, points of resemblance. For example, the "Life of Antony" is given in parallel with that of Demetrius I Poliorcetes of Macedon (336-283 B.C.): both are presented as great generals but flawed men and the victims of great changes of fortune. The most famous translation of Plutarch's "Lives" is that by Sir Thomas North (1579), which was Shakespeare's major source for "Julius Caesar", "Coriolanus" and, of course, "Antony and Cleopatra".

The extract below is a translation of the text included in "A Greek Anthology", JACT, Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Sections 84-86.2.

The Roman world was torn apart in the late 30s B.C. by its two most powerful figures, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus (later known as Augustus, but here referred to as Caesar), and Marcus Antonius (Antony), who was involved in a passionate love affair with Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt. After Octavian had defeated Antony and Cleopatra off Actium in NW Greece in 31 B.C., they fled to Egypt, where Antony committed suicide. Cleopatra was then cornered by Caesar in Alexandria. Although in the immediate aftermath of Actium, Cleopatra was generally portrayed by Octavian's propaganda as someone who had been a dangerous enemy of the Roman people, in time her beauty, the romance of her relationship with Antony, and the pathos of her death, well brought out in this extract, began to prevail in the popular imagination. 

Cornelius Dolabella was a conspicuous young man among the companions of Caesar. This man was not on unfriendly terms towards Cleopatra. And so now, doing a favour to her at her request (lit. having been asked), having sent (a message) secretly, he reported (to her) that Caesar himself was starting out by land through Syria, and had resolved to send her with her children to Rome within three days (lit. on the third day). Having heard this, in the first place she asked Caesar to allow her to bring libations to Antony; on his agreement, having been brought to the tomb, and having fallen upon the funerary urn, together with her attendant women, she said, "O dear Antony, I buried you recently with my hands still free, and now I am pouring a libation, being a prisoner, and guarded so that I can, neither by beatings nor by lamentations, despoil this body, (which is) that of a slave, and watched over for the purpose of triumphing over you. Do not expect any other honours or libations. These (are) the last from Cleopatra the captive for you. For nothing separated us from each other (while) living, but in death we are likely to exchange places, you, the Roman, lying here, while I, the hapless one, getting only so much of your country as my portion. For if (there is) any strength in the gods there (i.e. in the Underworld) (for the gods here have betrayed us), do not forsake your wife while she lives (lit. living), nor allow yourself to be triumphed over in my person, but hide and bury me with yourself here, as nothing among these countless evils that there are is so terrible (lit. great) and dreadful as the short time which I have lived apart from you."

Having lamented such things, and having garlanded and embraced the urn, she ordered a bath to be prepared for herself. Having bathed and having reclined, she had a splendid dinner. And someone came from the countryside carrying a certain basket; when the guards enquired (lit. the guards enquiring) what he was bringing, having opened (the basket) and having removed the leaves, he showed that the dish (inside was) full of figs. (The guards) marvelling at their beauty and their size, smiling, he invited (them) to take (some); trusting (him) they bade (him) to bring (them) in. After her dinner, Cleopatra, taking a writing-tablet already written upon and sealed, sent (it) to Caesar, and, sending away (all) the others except her faithful women, she closed the doors. And Caesar opening the tablet, when he found prayers and lamentations, (she) asking that she should be buried with Antony, he quickly understood what had been done. To begin with he set out himself to bring assistance, but then he sent men in order to investigate as quickly as possible. But swift suffering had occurred. For, coming at a run and finding that the guards had perceived nothing, opening the doors, they found her lying dead on a golden couch arrayed as a queen. Of her women, the one called Iras was dying at her feet and another, Charmion, already tottering and heavy-headed, was trying to adjust the diadem around her head. When someone said (lit. someone saying) to her in anger, "(This is) a fine thing, Charmion," she said, "It is indeed a very fine thing and befitting the descendant of so many kings." She said nothing more but fell there by the side of the couch. It is said that the asp was brought in with those figs and was hidden by the leaves above (them), for thus Cleopatra had given orders that the creature should fasten upon her body with herself not being aware (of it). But when, having removed some of the figs, she saw (it), she said, "So here it is", and she held out her arm bared for the bite. 

APULEIUS: "THE WITCHES OF THESSALY" : AN EXTRACT FROM "THE GOLDEN ASS"

Introduction.

Lucius Apuleius was born in c 124 A.D. in Madaura, a town in North Africa. He was educated first at Carthage and afterwards at Athens, where he studied Platonic philosophy and was initiated into the rites of Isis. He then went to Rome, where, after studying Latin rhetoric, he practised with some success at the bar. After travelling extensively, he returned to Africa and married a wealthy widow Pudentilla. When she died after leaving him all her money, he was charged by her relatives with having gained her affections by magic and having poisoned her. His successful and very amusing speech in his own defence survives under the title "A Discourse on Magic". 

His most important work, "The Metamorphoses" (or" Transformations") is, with the exception of Petronius' "Satyricon", the only surviving example of the Latin novel. There is an autobiographical aspect to the work - the central character is called Lucius after Apuleius himself - and its title is based not only on his "transformation" into an ass, but in a secondary sense on his "spiritual transformation" into a devotee of Isis. The book's more popular title of "The Golden Ass" stems from the use of the word "golden" to describe popular stories. The eccentric Latin style, in which the book is written, reflects the story-telling genre. He probably did not invent the  stories which are included in the book but took them from a wide range of existing folk-tales. For instance the plot of the "Metamorphoses" comes from either the "The Ass" of Lucius of Patra, or the "Lucius" of Lucian of Samosata, who was his contemporary. Apuleius certainly possessed a good knowledge of witchcraft, and as a priest of Isis made use of beneficent magical rites performed in honour of the goddess. Behind the amusing stories of "The Golden Ass" there is a serious moral purpose, consistent with Apuleius' devotion to Plato and his status as a priest of Isis.

The text of the extract translated below is taken from the "Cambridge Latin Anthology", Cambridge School Classics Project, Cambridge University Press, 1996. It is an abridged version of the original Latin of Apuleius. 

Book 2: Chapters 21-30. The Story of Thelyphron.

"Sagae Thessalae" (The Witches of Thessaly)

Lucius is travelling through Thessaly, in Greece. By chance, he meets a lady called Byrrhaena, who invites him to a dinner party. At the party, Lucius is asked what he thinks of Thessaly; he replies that he is impressed but worried by stories he has heard about the local witches, who are in the habit of cutting pieces of flesh from corpses. One of the guests laughingly points to a man hidden away at a corner in the room, saying that he has suffered this fate while still alive. The man, whose name is Thelyphron, is urged by Byrrhaena to tell Lucius his story. He reluctantly agrees.  

(As) a young man, setting out from Miletus for the Olympic games, since I also wished to visit places in the famous province, the whole of Thessaly having been travelled through, I came to Larissa. And, while, wandering through the city, my travelling allowance having been diminished, I was seeking a remedy for my poverty, I catch sight of an old man in the middle of the forum. He was standing on a stone and proclaiming in a loud voice that, if anyone was willing to guard a corpse, he would receive a large reward. And I said to someone passing by, "What is this I am hearing? Are corpses accustomed to run away here?"

"Hush (lit. Be silent)," he replied. "For you are a boy and a mere stranger, and, naturally, you do not know that you are in Thessaly, where witches frequently bite pieces out of the faces of dead men, which are supplements for their arts of magic."

In reply, I said, "What sort of protection is needed?"

"Now first," he replied, "you must (lit. it is necessary [for you] to) stay fully awake for the whole night and with your open and sleepless eyes directed all the time at the corpse, and your gaze must never (lit. it is necessary  for your gaze not ever to) be diverted, since  these most wicked witches creep up secretly, their shape having been changed into whatever animal you wish. For they take the shape of birds and dogs and mice, (and) indeed even flies as well."

The man ends with a warning that, if anyone fails to deliver the body intact in the morning, he is forced to replace missing pieces of flesh with pieces sliced from his own face.

These things having been understood, I strengthen my mind, and, approaching the old man at once, I said, "Stop crying out now. There is a guard ready." I had scarcely finished when he led me at once to  a certain house, where he showed (me) a weeping lady wrapped in mourning clothes. She arose and led me into a bed-chamber. There she uncovered with her hand a body wrapped in shining white sheets. When she had anxiously pointed out the individual features, she went out.

Thelyphron begins his vigil.

(I was) left alone for the comfort of the corpse, my eyes having been rubbed and prepared for guard duty, while I soothed my mind with songs. Up to the middle of the night I stayed awake. Then, however, fear (was) built up within me, when suddenly a weasel, creeping in, stood in front of me, and fixed its eyes on me.  Such great boldness in so small an animal disturbed my mind. Finally. I spoke to it thus: "Go away, (you) dreadful creature, before you speedily experience my strength! Go away!"

The weasel turns its back and forthwith goes out of the bed-chamber. Without delay so deep a sleep suddenly overwhelms me that not even the god of Delphi himself (i.e. Apollo) could easily have decided, out of the two of us lying (there), who was the more dead.

At last, having been awoken at first light, and terrified by a great fear, I run over to the corpse, and, the lamp having been brought near, and his face having been uncovered, I inspect everything carefully: nothing is lacking. Behold, the poor wife bursts in weeping: the body having been inspected, she pays the reward without delay.

While I was recovering my strength in the street next to the house, the body was brought out. Because it was the body of one of the leading citizens, it was carried in procession around the forum according to local custom. As this was taking place, an old man suddenly appeared. He was weeping and tearing out his fine white hair. He ran up to the bier and embraced it. Amid sobs and groans he cried out:

For the sake of your honour, citizens," he said, "for the sake of your public duty, stand up for a murdered citizen and punish severely the most vile crime of this wicked and villainous woman. For she, and no one else, has killed with poison this wretched young man, the son of my sister, to please her lover and for the sake of inherited profit."

She, with tears pouring down, and swearing by all the gods (as) piously as she could, denied so great a crime.  Therefore, that old man (said): "Let us refer the judgment of the truth to divine providence. Here is Zatchlas the Egyptian, a very well-known prophet, who has promised me that for a large fee he will lead back the soul of this corpse from the nether regions and reanimate his body for a short time."

The prophet was stirred into action. He took a special herb and laid it three times on the mouth of the dead man. Then he took another and put it on his breast. Then he turned to face the east and in silence prayed to the sacred disc of the rising sun. The people waited in the expectation of a miracle.

I pushed myself into the crowd and standing on a stone behind the bier itself I watched everything with curious eyes. Now the chest of the corpse was raised by swelling, now the body was filled with breath. And the corpse arises and speaks out: "Why, I beg (you), do you bring me back to the cares of this transitory life? Stop now, I pray (you), stop, and allow me to remain in my rest!"

This voice from the body was heard, but the prophet said rather more forcefully: "Why do you not tell the people everything about your death?"

From the bier he replies and with a deep groan addresses the people thus: "Murdered by the evil arts of my new wife and sentenced by a poisoned cup, I have yielded up my warm bed to an adulterer. I shall give you very clear proof of the truth, and I shall reveal what absolutely no one else could have known or have predicted.

Then, pointing at me with his finger, (he said): "When this very keen-witted guard of my body was keeping his intensive watch over me, some witches eager for my remains appeared in a changed form. Since they could not elude his unremitting diligence, finally, a fog of sleep having been cast over (him), they buried him in a deep rest. Then they began to arouse me by name, nor did they stop until my sluggish joints and cold limbs struggles slowly in obedience to their magic arts. However, he who was alive, and only dead in a trance, has by chance the same name as I. So, at the sound of his name, he got up unwittingly, and proceeding mechanically in the manner of a lifeless ghost he goes to the door. Although the doors of the bed-chamber had been carefully locked, first his nose and then his ears having been nibbled through a certain hole, he suffered mutilation in my place. Then the witches attached to him wax shaped in the manner of the ears which had been cut off, and fitted on a nose similar to the one cut off. And now the poor fellow stands here, having earned a fee not for his hard work but for his mutilation."

Terrified by these words I begin to test my appearance. I grasp my nose with my hand: it comes away. I touch my ears: they fall off. And while the crowd identifies me with pointed fingers and with nods, I, dripping with cold sweat, escape between the feet of those standing around. Nor afterwards, thus maimed and  thus  ridiculous, could I return to my native land, but I have hidden the wounds of my ears with hair hanging down on this side and on that, and indeed, for the sake of decency, I have covered the disgrace of my nose with this piece of canvas.

MENANDER: EXTRACT FROM "PERIKEIROMENE" (THE GIRL WITH THE CUT HAIR)

Introduction.

Menander (342-292 B.C.) was the leading writer of Athenian New Comedy, a genre which replaced the world of Aristophanes' Old Comedy with a more romantic one, in which love entanglements, abandoned or kidnapped children, and recognition through trinkets play an important part. New Comedy also established character types such as the bragging soldier, the quick-witted slave, and the angry father, which have been central to comedy in the modern world. Howver complicated Menander's plots may be, the situations and the the characters still appear natural. Menander's plays were lost in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries A.D., but much of  his work, including substantial fragments of this play, came to light in the Twentieth Century on newly-discovered papyri. 

Lines 486-525.

Polemon, a young mercenary soldier, has quarrelled with his girl-friend Glycera as a result of a misunderstanding. He has already cut off her hair with his sword, and she has left him. Now, as he plans to regain her by violent means, their mutual friend Pataecus tries to persuade him to take a more diplomatic line. 

The text of this extract is taken from "A Greek Anthology", Joint Association of Classical Teachers, Cambridge University Press, 2002. 

PATAECUS: If what happened such as you describe was something like this and (you had lost) your wedded wife.

POLEMON: (It is) such as you say, Pataecus.

PA:                                                                                           It is a bit different.

PO: I have been regarding her as my wedded wife.

PA:                                                                                           Don't shout!

And who is the giver?

PO:                                                       Who (gave her) to me? She herself.

PA:                                                                                             Absolutely fine!

You pleased her, perhaps, but now no longer. And with you not treating her in a decent manner, she has gone away.

PO: What do you mean? Not in a decent manner? Saying this of all things, you have distressed me particularly. 

PA:                                                                                              You love (her).

I know this for certain. So that what you are now doing is crazy. And where are you now rushing to? Or are you intending to seize someone? She is responsible for herself. Persuasion is (the one course) left to the badly discontented lover. 

PO:                                                       Is he not wronging me, the man who has been corrupted her in my absence? 

PA:                                                                                          He is wronging you, so that you can bring a charge against (him), if ever you came to an argument. But if you kidnap (her) by force, you will incur justice. For wrongdoing is not a matter for (private) vengeance but a formal complaint.  

PO: Not even now!

PA:                                                          Not even now! 

PO:                                                                                             I don't know what I am to say, except, by Demeter, I shall hang myself. Glycera has left me, Glycera has left me, Pataecus. But, if indeed it seems good to you to do so - for you were intimate (with her) and have often chatted with her before now  - go in and talk (with her), be my ambassador, I beseech you. 

PA:                                                                                              It seems good to me to do this, you see.

PO:                                                          No doubt, you are able to make a case, Pataecus?

PA: Fairly well!  

PO:                                                           But, indeed, Pataecus, it is necessary.

It is the very way of saving the (whole) business. For if I ever yet did (her) wrong in any way at all - if I do not continue to love and to cherish (her) - if you would come and see her finery - 

PA:                                                                                              That's fine!

PO: Come and see (it), Pataecus, in the name of the gods! You will feel (all) the more sorry for me.

PA:                                                            O Poseidon!

PO:                                                                                              Come here!
And what dresses! And how (wonderful) she appears when she puts any one of them on! For perhaps you haven't seen (her).

PA. Indeed I have.

PO: For that spendour was surely worth a look. But why am I now bringing this into the discussion? Am I stark-staring mad, chatting about other things?

PA: (Not at all), by Zeus!

PO: Don't you think? But it is necessary, Pataecus, that you come and see (it). Step this way!

Postscript.

The lovers are eventually reconciled.  

ARISTOTLE: EXTRACT FROM "POETICS"

Introduction.

Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) is one of the most wide-ranging authors of the ancient world. He was essentially a philosopher, but he wrote on many subjects: logic, metaphysics, natural science, ethics, politics, rhetoric and poetry. Born at Stagira in Northern Greece, he came to Athens in 367. Here he was taught by Plato. Later, he was tutor to the young Alexander the Great, and in 335 he founded the Lyceum in Athens, a philosophical school intended to rival Plato's Academy there.  Iy may be that the "Poetics", from which the excerpt translated below comes, has come down to us in the form of notes of lectures given at the Lyceum. This would account for some of its oddities of expression. It remains, however, perhaps the most influential work of criticism in European literature. 

 Sections 1452b30-1453b11.

Tragic Action and the tragic hero.

In this famous passage Aristotle comments on some aspects of the nature of Greek tragedy. He has already argued that the function of tragedy is to arouse feelings of pity and fear in the spectators and thus purge them of these emotions (the theory of catharsis). 

And so, since it is necessary that the structure of the best tragedy is not simple but complex, and (moreover) that this (structure) is imitative of fearful and pitiful (happenings) (for this is peculiar to this kind of imitation) (it is) obvious, firstly, that it is necessary that good men should not be shown passing from good fortune to bad fortune, for that is not fearful or pitiful but repulsive. Nor wicked people (passing) from bad fortune to good fortune, for this is the most untragic of all things, for it has nothing (of the things) which it is necessary (to have), for it is neither appealing to human feeling nor pitiful nor fearful. Nor again (is it necessary) that a thoroughly bad  man should suddenly change from good fortune to bad fortune; for such a structure might cause an appeal to human nature, but neither pity nor fear, the one is (directed) towards undeserved misfortune, the other towards a man like (ourselves), pity (directed) towards the undeserved (misfortune) and fear (directed) towards the man like (ourselves), so that what happens will be neither pitiful nor fearful. So what (is) between these things (is) left. This is the kind of man, neither outstanding in virtue or in justice, nor passing into misfortune through evil and wickedness, but through some flaw, being one of those with a great reputation and good fortune, such as Oedipus and Thyestes and the famous men from such families.

So it is a necessity that the plot to be successful is single rather than, as some say, double, and that the change (is) not to good fortune from bad fortune but the opposite, from good fortune to bad fortune, not through villainy but through a great flaw, either of such a man (as) has been said, or of one who (is) better rather than worse. And in practice this also happens; for at first the poets recounted any old plots, but now the best tragedies are constructed around a few households, such as (those) around Alcmaeon and Oedipus and Orestes and Meleager and Thyestes and Telephus and as many others as it has happened either to suffer or to inflict terrible things.  

And so, in accordance with the art (of poetry), the best tragedy is of this construction. For this reason those criticising Euripides are, at the same time, mistaken, (in saying) that he does this in his tragedies and that many of his (tragedies) end in misfortune. For this is, as it has been said, correct; and (there is) very strong evidence (of this). For on the stage and in the dramatic competitions such (plays) appear the most tragic, if they are properly produced, and Euripides, even if he does not manage well in other respects, yet he certainly seems the most tragic of the poets. 

The second best plot-structure, said (to be) the best by some, is that which has a double plot-structure, like the Odyssey, and ending in opposite (ways) for the better men and the worse ones. It seems that it is the first according to the weakness of the audience. For the poets go along with the spectators, doing according to their wish. But this is not the same pleasure properly derived from tragedy, but rather (it is) suited to comedy; for, there, those who may be bitter enemies in the legend, such as Orestes and Aegisthus, having become friend, go off (the stage) at the end, and no one is killed. 

And so, it is possible that fear and pity arise from the spectacle and it is possible also (that they arise) from the actual construction of the events, something which is preferable and the mark of a superior poet. For it is necessary that the plot should be so constructed that, even without seeing (it), anyone, hearing the incidents happening, both shudders with fear and feels pity from what is occurring. Anyone hearing the story of Oedipus would suffer these things. To produce this effect through the spectacle (is) rather inartistic and is needful of extraneous aids. And those producing through the spectacle not something fearful, but only something sensational, have nothing in common with tragedy. For it is not necessary to seek from tragedy every pleasure but (rather) what belongs (to it).    

DEMOSTHENES: EXTRACT FROM "AGAINST CONON"

Introduction.

In contrast to the grand public speech "On the Crown" (see previous item on this blog), the speech, from which the extract translated below is taken, was a private speech for a case of assault. The speaker, Ariston, describes the outrageous behaviour of Conon's sons when they were on garrison duty together on the borders of Attica in 343 B.C. The court action probably took place two years later. 

The text of this extract is taken from "A Greek Anthology", Joint Association of Classics Teachers, Cambridge University Press, 2002. 

Sections 3-6.

Harassment on military service.

Two years ago (lit. this (is) the third year) I went out to Panactum, garrison duty having been ordered for us. The sons of that Conon encamped near us, as I wished they had not. For the feud and the collisions happened to us beginning from there. And from what (causes) you will hear. These men, as soon as they had breakfast, at all times spent the whole day drinking, and, while indeed we were in the garrison, they continued doing (this). And we conducted ourselves in such a way as we were accustomed (to do) here. And so, at whatever time it happened  in respect of the others to be having dinner, these men were already behaving with drunken violence, for the most part towards our attendant slaves, but, in the end, towards us ourselves too. For alleging that the slaves had annoyed them with smoke when preparing the meal, or had insulted them, whatever they happened (to say), they beat (them) and emptied their chamber pots on them and urinated (on them), and they did not leave out anything whatever of shamelessness and outrageous behaviour. And we ourselves, seeing this and being distressed, at first ignored (it), but, as they mocked us and did not desist, not I apart from the rest, (but) all our mess-mates, reported the matter jointly to the general. He having rebuked them for this and having reproached them about the things they had outrageously committed against us, but also about the things they had done in the camp generally, (yet) they were so far from stopping or feeling shame that as soon as ever it grew dark they, immediately on that very evening, burst in upon us, and at first they insulted (us) and eventually they dealt blows upon me as well, and they made such a great shouting and commotion around the tent that both the general and the captains came, as well as some of the other soldiers, who prevented us suffering something irreparable and doing something (irreparable) ourselves, having been subjected to drunken violence by them. The matter having progressed to this (point), when we returned here, there was between us, as was natural, anger and hatred towards one another. (I swear) by the gods that I did not indeed think it would be necessary to bring a case against them or to take any (further) account of what occurred, but I resolved simply this, to be careful in future and to be on my guard not to come near such people. So I wish firstly to provide the evidence of these things which I have said, (and) after this to show what sort of things I have suffered at the hands of the defendant himself, in order that you may see that the man, who ought (lit. for whom it was right) to have criticised the offences committed in the first place (by his sons), has committed on his own account much more outrageous acts.

Postscript.

Ariston goes on to describe how he was attacked, robbed and almost killed by Conon, his sons and friends. He anticipates that Conon will try to dismiss the affair as high spirits: the jury should not be taken in by this, but should take it as seriously as if they themselves had been the victims. 

DEMOSTHENES: EXTRACT FROM "ON THE CROWN"

Introduction.

Demosthenes (384-322 B.C.) was the greatest of the Athenian orators. After studying rhetoric and legal procedure, he became a speech-writer for both public and private trials. Sixty-one speeches attributed to him have survived, although the authenticity of some is in doubt. He became prominent as a politician and leader of the resistance to the encroachment of Philip II of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. 

The text of the passage translated below comes from "A Greek Anthology", Joint Association of Classical Teachers, Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Sections 169-173.2

News of the disaster at Elatea.

Despite his running from the field at Chaeronea in 338 when Philip II crushed the Athenian-led  alliance which he had inspired, Demosthenes was awarded a gold crown for public services in 336 on the proposal of Ctesiphon. Aeschines, the leading orator of the opposing pro-Macedonian party, then prosecuted Ctesiphon for unconstitutional action. In this speech Demosthenes defends Ctesiphon, and uses the opportunity to explain his own political stance, even though by the time the speech was delivered (330 B.C.) that policy had failed. In this passage he describes the panic in Athens when news arrives that King Philip has seized the town of Elatea, leaving in no doubt his aggressive plans against the whole of Greece. 

For it was evening, and someone had come to the presiding councillors announcing that Elatea had been taken. And after this some, in the midst of dining, immediately arising from their seats both thrust out the people from the booths across the market-place and set the hurdles on fire, and others summoned the generals and called for the trumpeter, and the city was full of commotion. And on the next day, at day-break, the presidents summoned the Council to the Council House, and you journeyed to the Assembly, and before the former could proceed to business and prepare an agenda all the people were seated on the hill  (lit. upwards). And after this, when the Council arrived and the presidents announced what had been reported to them and they introduced the man who had come and he spoke, the herald asked "Who wishes to speak?" But no one came forward. And, (despite) the herald asking repeatedly, still no one stood up, (despite) all of the generals and all of the orators being there, and (despite) the country, with her common voice, calling for the man to speak for her salvation; for we may justly regard  the voice which the herald raises in accordance with the laws as that common (voice) of our country. And yet, if it had been the duty of those wishing to save the city to come forward, you all and the other Athenians, arising from your seats, would have stepped up to the rostrum; for I know that (you) all wished to save it; if (that duty had fallen) upon the richer, the Three Hundred; if upon those who are both of these things, both well-disposed to the city and wealthy, those who after this freely gave generous donations; for they did this due to their good will and their wealth. But, as it seems, that crisis and that day not only called the patriotic and wealthy man but also the man who had closely followed the events from the beginning and had correctly worked out on account of what (reason) Philip had done this and what he was wanting; for the man not knowing these things and not examining (them) well long in advance (lit. from afar), neither if he were patriotic nor if (he were) wealthy, was not any more likely to know what it was necessary to do, or to be able to offer advice to us. So then I appeared as this man on that day, and, coming forward, I addressed you.

Postscript.

Demosthenes goes on to claim that he did not desert the post of patriotism in the hour of peril. His losing battle for a small democracy against a successful military autocrat has sometimes been condemned as ill-advised and hopeless but has more often attracted sympathetic admiration. Demosthenes successfully defended Ctesiphon and himself against Aeschines' prosecution and the latter, his reputation in ruins, was forced to flee to Samos. However, Demosthenes himself was subsequently disgraced too, when it emerged that he had accepted the bribe of a gold cup in return for his support of Harpalus, Alexander's miscreant finance minister, who, seeking refuge, had fled to Athens in 324. Demosthenes was exiled to the adjacent island of Aegina, where he died in disgrace in 322.