Quotations by:
Euripides
You are neither the first nor the last of mortals
to lose a good wife. You have to learn
that death is a debt we all must pay.[οὐ γάρ τι πρῶτος οὐδὲ λοίσθιος βροτῶν
γυναικὸς ἐσθλῆς ἤμπλακες· γίγνωσκε δὲ
ὡς πᾶσιν ἡμῖν κατθανεῖν ὀφείλεται.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Alcestis [Ἄλκηστις], c. l. 415 [Chorus] (438 BC) [tr. Leuschnig]
(Source)
Alt. trans.:Thou art by no means the first nor yet shalt be the last of men to lose a wife of worth; know this, we all of us are debtors unto death.
[tr. Coleridge (1910)]Thou shalt not be the last, nor yet the first,
To lose a noble wife. Be brave, and know
To die is but a debt that all men owe.
[tr. Murray (1915)]Not first of mortals thou, nor shalt be last
To lose a noble wife; and, be thou sure,
From us, from all, this debt is due -- to die.
[tr. Way (1984)]You are neither the first nor the last mortal
Who has lost a good wife. Understand this:
Dying is a debt we all have to pay.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
Waste not fresh tears over old griefs.
Cry with me;
for sharing tears with others is relief in hardship.[συνάλγησον, ὡς ὁ κάμνων
δακρύων μεταδοὺς ἔχει
χουφότητα μόχϑων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 119 (TGF) (412 BC)
(Source)
Nauck frag. 119, Barnes frag. 51, Musgrave frag. 22. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation.Come, let us weep together; for the unhappy
Find social tears their poignant griefs assuage.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]
I ne’er insulted the calamities
Of those who were unfortunate, because
I fear’d that I myself might also suffer.[τάς όυμφοράξ γαρ των κακώς πεπραγότων
οὐπώποϑ ϋβρίδ’, αυτὀξ ὀρρωδῶν παϑεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ἀνδρομέδα], frag. 130 (TGF) (412 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 130, Barnes frag. 53, Musgrave frag. 21. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:I never treated the troubles of the unfortunate insultingly,
through fear of suffering them myself.
[tr. Gibert (2004)]
Sweet is the remembrance of troubles when you are in safety.
[άλλ’ ήδύ τοί σωθέντα μεμνήσθαί πόνων.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 133 (TGF) (412 BC)
(Source)
Nauck frag. 133, Barnes frag. 21, Musgrave frag. 10. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:'Tis sweet to recollect past toils in safety.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Sweet is the memory of toils that are past.
[tr. Reid (1883), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]Sweet is the memory of sorrows past.
[tr. Rackham (1914), in Cicero, De Finibus, 2.105]
After commenting that "The Greek line is known to you all," Cicero renders it in Latin as "Suavis laborum est praeteritorum memoria."
PERSEUS: O Love, our lord, of gods and men the king.
[σὺ δ’ ὦ θεῶν τύραννε κἀνθρώπων ῎Ερως]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 136 (TGF) (412 BC)
(Source)
Lucian, in How to Write History, says the people of Abdera, Thrace, were so affected by a mid-summer performance of this play that they stumbled about, bemusedly repeating the the first line, until restored to their senses by a severe winter (see 1, 2, 3).
Nauck frag. 136, Barnes Addenda p519, Musgrave frag. 17. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Tyrant of Gods, and men, O Love.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]You, Eros, tyrant over gods and men.
[tr. Collard/Cropp (2008)]Lust, you tyrant of gods and men!
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Of all treasures this is best:
To find a noble-minded wife.[τῶν γὰρ πλούτων ὅδ’ ἄριστος
γενναῖον λέχος εὑρεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 137 (TGF) (412 BC)
Nauck frag. 137, Barnes frag. 30, Musgrave frag. 14. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:The best of treasures is a virtuous Wife.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]Best of all riches is to find a noble spouse.
[tr. @sentaniq (2014)]
Whenever mortals fall in love,
if they should happen to meet with fine lovers,
there is no greater joy than this.[ὅσοι γὰρ εἰς ἔρωτα πίπτουσιν βροτῶν,.
ἐσθλῶν ὅταν τύχωσι τῶν ἐρωμένων,.
οὐκ ἔσθ’ ὁποίας λείπεται τόδ’ ἡδονῆς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ανδρομέδα], frag. 138 (TGF) (412 BC) [tr. Wright (2017)]
(Source)
One of the first recorded uses of the phrase "fall in love [εἰς ἔρωτα πίπτειν]."
Nauck frag. 138, Barnes frag. 24, Musgrave frag. 12. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:They who by love are caught, and fix their love
On virtuous objects; to complete their bliss,
Can need no new accession of delight.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]When it befalls poor mortal men to love,
Should they find worthy objects for their loving,
There is no fuller joy on earth to long for.
[Source]
Each day, futurity our bosom fills
With constant terror, for to think of woes
That are to come, is worse than to endure them.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Andromeda [Ἀνδρομέδα], fragment (412 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 40, Musgrave frag. 18.
I was in love, and love makes all men frantic.
[ἤρων τὸ μαίνεσθαι δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἦν ἔρως βροτοῖς.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antigone [Ἀντιγόνη], frag. 161 (TGF, Kannicht) [Haemon?] (c. 420-406 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 18, Musgrave frag. 7. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:I was in love; and love, it turns out, is madness for mortals.
[tr. Karamanou]I was [they were?] in love: and that showed that love is madness for mortals.
[tr. Valtadorou (2020)]
Man’s best possession is a sympathetic wife.
[ἄριστον ἀνδρὶ κτῆμα συμπαθὴς γυνή]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antigone [Ἀντιγόνη], frag. 164 (TGF) (c. 420-406 BC)
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:The best thing for a husband is an understanding wife.
[Source]
Away with empire, and oppressive laws;
None but the fool can wish for regal power,
That he may proudly lord it o’er his equals.[οὔτ᾽ εἰκὸς ἄρχειν οὔτ᾽ ἐχρὴν ἄνευ νόμου
τύραννον εἶναι” μωρία δὲ καὶ ϑέλειν
ὃς τῶν ὁμοίων βούλεται χρατεῖν μόνος.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antigone [Ἀντιγόνη], frag. 172 (TGF, Kannicht) (c. 420-406 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 11, Musgrave frag. 5. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:It is neither reasonable to rule, nor ought there to be a king [law].
It is folly for a man even to want [...]
who wishes to hold sole power over his peers.
[Source]
‘Tis unbecoming not to shed a tear
Over the wretched; he too is devoid
Of virtue, who abounds in wealth, yet scruples
Thro’ sordid avarice to relieve their wants.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 62, Musgrave frag. 40.
Whoever, in a prosperous station plac’d,
Is slothful and regardless of his household,
Intent on nought except bewitching song,
Will by his family, his friends, his country,
Be held in no esteem: for the best gifts
Of nature ineffectual prove, when pleasure,
Degrading pleasure, occupies the soul.[ἁνὴρ γὰρ ὅστις εὖ βίον κεκτηµένος
τὰ µὲν κατ’ οἴκους ἀµελίᾳ παρεὶς ἐᾷ,
µολπαῖσι δ’ ἡσθεὶς τοῦτ’ ἀεὶ θηρεύεται,
ἀγρὸς µὲν οἴκοι κἂν πόλει γενήσεται,
φίλοισι δ’οὐδείς· ἡ φύσις γὰρ οἴχεται,
ὅταν γλυκείας ἡδονῆς ἥσσων τις ᾗ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 187 (TGF, Kannicht) [Zethus/ΖΗΘΟΣ] (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Barnes frag. 16, Musgrave frag. 29. See also frag. 200. Alternate translation:For any man who well acquires a livelihood
and permits its decline with his indifference,
and who delights himself with song and dance
and is always chasing it, will be idle at home and in the polis,
and a nobody for his friends; for a man’s nature is lost
when he is conquered by the sweetness of pleasure.
[tr. Will (2015)]
A clever speaker can speak on any
subject, either for or against.[ἐκ παντὸς ἄν τις πράγµατος δισσῶν λόγων
ἀγῶνα θεῖτ᾽ἄν, εἰ λέγειν εἴη σοφός.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 189 (TGF, Kannicht) [Chorus] (c. 410 BC)
(Source)
Barnes frag. 79, Musgrave 39. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:The skillful orator can either side
Maintain on every topic of debate.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]A man could make an argument for two sides of any
matter, if he were a clever speaker.
[tr. Will (2015)]
He who without necessity embarks
In many matters, is a fool for slighting
The obvious blessings of a tranquil life.[ὅστις δὲ πράσσει πολλὰ µὴ πράσσειν παρόν,
µῶρος, παρὸν ζῆν ἡδέως ἀπράγµονα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 193 (TGF, Kannicht) [Amphion] (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes fragment 104, Musgrave 25. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:Whoever is very active when he may be inactive, is a moron,
when he may live pleasantly keeping clear from politics.
[tr. Will (2015)]Whoever is overactive when he could relax
is foolish, for he misses out on a pleasant life.
[Source]
Such is the life of man, nor wholly blest,
Nor wholly wretched; on her votaries Fortune
now smiles, then frowns. Since our prosperity
Is thus unstable, is not an exemption
From grief the greatest pleasure life can yield?[τοιόσδε ϑνητῶν τῶν ταλαιπώρων βίος’
οὔτ᾽ εὐτυχεῖ τὸ πάμπαν οὔτε δυστυχεῖ,
εὐδαιμονεῖ δὲ καύϑις οὐκ εὐδαιμονεῖ.
τί δῆτ᾽ ἐν ὄλβω μὴ σαφεῖ βεβηκότες
οὐ ξῶμεν ὡς ἥδιστα μὴ λυπούμενοι;]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 196 (TGF, Kannicht) (c. 410 BC) (Amphion?) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:Such is the life of wretched mortals;
a man is neither wholly fortunate nor unfortunate;
why then, on entering prosperity which may be insecure,
do we not live as pleasantly as possible, without distress?
[Source]Such it is, the life of miserable mortals:
neither wholly fortunate nor unfortunate.
He is prosperous and then he is not prosperous.
Why then, when we stand in uncertain happiness,
do we not live as pleasurably as possible, without distress.
[tr. Will (2015)]
You were wrong to fault my body as weak
and effete; for if I am able to reason well,
this is superior to a muscular arm.[τὸ δ᾽ἀσθενές µου καὶ τὸ θῆλυ σώµατος
κακῶς ἐµέµφθης· εἰ γὰρ εὖ φρονεῖν ἔχω,
κρεῖσσον τόδ᾽ἐστὶ καρτεροῦ βραχίονος.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 199 (TGF, Kannicht) [Amphion/ΑΜΦΙΩΝ] (c. 410 BC) [tr. Will (2015)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Barnes frag. 22, Musgrave frag. 34. Alternate translations:No right
Hast thou to censure this my frame as weak
And womanish, for if I am endued
With wisdom, that exceeds the nervous arm.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]You were wrong to censure my weak and effeminate body;
for if I can think soundly, this is stronger than a sturdy arm.
[tr. Collard (2004)]
But they who only live to pamper up
Their flesh, when their possessions they have wasted,
Become bad citizens; for still unchang’d
Doth their voracious appetite remain.[καὶ µὴν ὅσοι µὲν σαρκὸς εἰς εὐεξίαν
ἀσκοῦσι βίοτον, ἢν σφαλῶσι χρηµάτων,
κακοὶ πολῖται· δεῖ γὰρ ἄνδρ᾽εἰθισµένον
ἀκόλαστον ἦθος γαστρὸς ἐν ταὐτῷ µένειν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 201 (Kannicht) / 200 (TGF) (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 54, Musgrave frag. 7. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:Indeed all who live life for big muscles, if their
wealth should fail, are bad citizens; for when a man becomes
accustomed to habits of gluttony, he remains in those habits.
[tr. Will (2015)]
I know that I suffer and this is no small pain:
Not to know, now that brings some pleasure to
The troubled — ignorance is an advantage amid grief.[φρονῶ δ’ ὃ πάσχω, καὶ τόδ’ οὐ σμικρὸν κακόν·
τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι γὰρ ἡδονὴν ἔχει τινὰ
νοσοῦντα, κέρδος δ’ ἐν κακοῖς ἀγνωσία.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 205 (Kannicht) (c. 410 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
(Source)
A source for the phrase, "Ignorance is bliss." (Source (Greek); see also TGF frag 204). Alternate translation:I understand what I endure, and this
Is no small evil; for to the diseas'd
There is a kind of pleasure in not knowing
Their malady; such ignorance is gain
To those who labor under grievous woes.
[tr. Wodhall (1809); Barnes 23, Musgrave 24]I understand what I suffer, and this is not a small evil:
for not to know that one is ailing has some pleasure,
in misery ignorance is an advantage.
[tr. Will (2015)]
Oh child, words well spoken might be false,
and with the beauty of words, might conquer truth;
yet this is not the surest test, that is character
and right; he who conquers with his fluency,
he is clever, but I hold facts mightier than words, always.[ὦ παῖ, γένοιντ᾽ἂν εὖ λελεγµένοι λόγοι
ψευδεῖς, ἐπῶν δὲ κάλλεσιν νικῷεν ἂν
τἀληθές· ἀλλ᾽οὐ τοῦτο τἀκριβέστατον,
ἀλλ᾽ἡ φύσις καὶ τοὐρθόν· ὃς δ᾽εὐγλωσσίᾳ
νικᾷ, σοφὸς µέν, ἀλλ᾽ἐγὼ τὰ πράγµατα
κρείσσω νοµίζω τῶν λόγων ἀεί ποτε.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 206 (Kannicht) [Antiope/ΑΝΤΙΟΠΗ?] (c. 410 BC) [tr. Will (2015)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). TGF frag. 205.
There is surfeit in everything. I have seen
men abandon beautiful women for ugly ones,
and someone sated with rich meals return
with pleasure to inferior fare.[κόρος δὲ πάντων· καὶ γὰρ ἐκ καλλιόνων
λέκτροις ἐπ᾽αἰσχροῖς εἶδον ἐκπεπληγµένους,
δαιτὸς δὲ πληρωθείς τις ἄσµενος πάλιν
φαύλῃ διαίτῃ προσβαλὼν ἥσθη στόµα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 213 (Kannicht) (c. 410 BC)
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Barnes frag. 86, Musgrave frag. 27, TGF frag. 212. Alternate translations:But all things satiate; oft have I beheld
The faithless Husband quit his beauteous Wife,
Lur'd by some vile amour: thus pall'd with dainties
The appetite regales on coarser food.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]There is a surfeit of all things; for I have seen men
drive away a beautiful wife for an ugly one,
and full from banquet someone glad to sit and crack
his teeth against poor fare.
[tr. Will (2015)]
Justice they call Time’s Daughter; to the world,
Because at length the wicked she displays.[τήν τοι Δίκην λέγουσι παῖδ᾽εἶναι Χρόνου,
δείκνυσι δ᾽ἡµῶν ὅστις ἐστὶ µὴ κακός]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 222 (Kannicht) (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). TGF frag. 223. Barnes frag. 35, Musgrave frag. 3. Alternate translation:They say that Dike is the child of Cronos
and brings to light whichever of us is not wicked.
[Will (2015)]
Tho’ Justice, ere she come, be late,
Conceal’d by the behests of fate,
She menaces each villain’s head
For whom th’ inevitable snare is spread.[Δίκα τοι Δίκα χρόνιος ἀλλ᾽ὅµως
ἐπιπεσοῦσ᾽ἔλαθεν ἔλαβεν ὅταν ἴ[δ]ῃ
τιν᾽ἀσεβῆ βροτῶν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Antiope [Αντιοπη], frag. 223 (Kannicht) [Chorus/ΧΟΡΟΣ] (c. 410 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). TGF frag. 224, Barnes frag. 31, Musgrave frag. 2. Alternate translation:Dike, Dike dallies, but still takes and seizes
unawares when she sees him,
any impious mortals.
[tr. Will (2015)]
Whoso pretends that Love is no great god,
The lord and master of all deities,
Is either dull of soul, or, dead to beauty,
Knows not the greatest god that governs men.
[Ἔρωτα δ᾿ ὅστις μὴ θεὸν κρίνει μέγαν
καὶ τῶν ἁπάντων δαιμόνων ὑπέρτατον,
ἢ σκαιός ἐστιν ἢ καλῶν ἄπειρος ὢν
οὐκ οἶδε τὸν μέγιστον ἀνθρώποις θεόν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Auge [Αὐγῃ], frag. 269 (c. 408 BC) [tr. Symonds (1880)]
(Source)
The second line ("καὶ ... ὑπέρτατον" = "the highest of all deities") was apparently inserted by Stobaeus.
Nauck (TGF) frag. 269, Barnes frag. 15, Musgrave frag. 3. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:He who esteems not Love a mighty God,
And to all other Deities superior,
Devoid of reason, or to beauty blind,
Knows not the ruler of this nether world.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]Anyone who does not count Love a great god,
and the highest of all the divine powers,
is either obtuse or, lacking experience in his benefits,
is unacquainted with human beings’ greatest god.
[tr. Collard / Cropp (2008); Funke (2013)]Whoever does not judge Love to be a great god, and highest of all the divine powers, is either a fool or, lacking experience of his good things, is not acquainted with mankind's greatest god.
[tr. Wright (2017)]Whoever does not think Eros a great god
is either silly or ignorant of blessings.
[Source]
Who does not take pleasure in childish toys?
[τίς δ᾽ οὐχὶ χαίρει νηπίοις ἀθύρμασιν]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Auge [Αὐγῃ], frag. 272 [Heracles] (c. 408 BC) [tr. Collard/Cropp (2008)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 272, Barnes frag. 20, Musgrave frag. 5. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Who is not pleas'd with children's harmless sports?
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]Who does not find delight in childish amusements?
[Source]
As it is, wine drove me out of my senses. I admit I wronged you, but the wrong was not intentional.
[νοϋ δ’ οίνος έξεστησέ μ’ δμολογώ δέ σε άδίκείν, τὸ δ’ αδίκημ’ ἐγένετ’ οὐχ ἑκούδίον.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Auge [Αὐγῃ], frag. 272b (TGF) (c. 408 BC) [tr. Collard/Cropp (2008)]
(Source)
Heracles apologizing (sort of), to Auge for raping her, one of the only such apologies in ancient Greek drama.
Nauck frag. 265, Barnes frag. 6, Musgrave frag. 8. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:My senses are disorder'd by the fumes
Of wine: yet will I own that I have wrong'd thee,
Tho' this be an involuntary wrong.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]
Perish all they who love to dwell in cities
subject to Kings, or to the mighty few,
For Freedom’s an invaluable name,
and he who hath but little, here is rich.[κακῶς δ’ ὄλοιντο πάντες οἳ τυραννίδι
χαίρουσιν ὀλίγῃ τ’ ἐν πόλει μοναρχίᾳ·
τοὐλεύθερον γὰρ ὄνομα παντὸς ἄξιον,
κἂν σμίκρ’ ἔχῃ τις, μεγάλ’ ἔχειν νομιζέτω.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Auge [Αὐγῃ], frag. 275 (TGF) (c. 408 BC) [tr. Wodhall (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 275, Barnes frag. 10, Musgrave frag. 7. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Pray that all who rejoice in tyranny,
Or in some small monarchy in their city, die terribly.
The name "freedom" is worth everything --
Even if he possesses a little, a man who has this is considered great.
[@sententiq (2015)]Worth above all is a name fit for the free.
[Source]
We are women: in some things, we hesitate.
But in others, no one can surpass our courage.[γυναῖκές ἐσμεν: τὰ μὲν ὄκνῳ νικώμεθα,
τὰ δ᾽ οὐκ ἂν ἡμῶν θράσος ὑπερβάλοιτό τις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Auge [Αὐγῃ], frag. 276 (c. 408 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2014)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 276, Barnes frag. 18, Musgrave frag. 4. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Frail women as we are, too oft our fears
Subdue us, but at other times our courage
By none can be exceeded.
[tr. Wodhall (1809)]We are women, sometimes defeated by fear,
sometimes unsurpassed in courage.
[Source]
The company of just and righteous men is better
than wealth and a rich estate.[κρεῖσσον δὲ πλούτου καὶ βαϑυσπόρου χϑονὸς
ἀνδρῶν δικαίων χἀγαϑῶν ὁμιλίαι]
And what is shameful if those who do it don’t think it so?
[τί δ’ αἰσχρὸν ἢν μὴ τοῖσι χρωμένοις δοκῇ]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 19 (TGF) [tr. Aleator (2012)]
(Source)
This bit of moral relativism (likely coming from Macareus, the son of Aeolus, who committed incest with his sister, Canace) continues to provoke commentary, thus varied translations. Aristophanes includes a reference to this line in his The Frogs.
Nauck frag. 19, Barnes frag. 5, Musgrave frag. 1. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:But what is base, if it appear not base
To those who practice what their soul approves?
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]What is shameful, if it does not seem to be so to those who do it?
[Source]What's wrong if they who do it think not so?
[Source (1902)]Why shameful, if it does not seem so to those who practice it?
[Source (2018)]
Speak not of wealth; I can’t admire a god
whom even the basest man can get into his hold.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 20 (TGF)
(Source)
Nauck frag. 20, Barnes frag. 15, Musgrave frag. 14. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Talk not of Plutus; I despise the God
Whom every villain may with ease possess.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]
Alas, how right the ancient saying is:
We, who are old, are nothing else but noise
And shape. Like mimicries of dreams we go,
And have no wits, although we think us wise.
[φεῦ φεῦ, παλαιὸς αἶνος ὡς καλῶς ἔχει·
γέροντες οὐδέν ἐσμεν ἄλλο πλὴν ψόφος
καὶ σχῆμ’, ὀνείρων δ’ ἕρπομεν μιμήματα·
νοῦς δ’ οὐκ ἔνεστιν, οἰόμεσθα δ’ εὖ φρονεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 25 (TGF) [tr. Bowra (1938)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 25, Barnes frag. 56, Musgrave frag. 18. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:How true this antient saying; we old men
Are nought but trouble, and an empty shadow,
We crawl about, the semblances of dreams.
And of our mental faculties deprived.
Still fancy we with wisdom are endued.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Oh, alas, how true the ancient saying is: we old men are nothing but noise and mere shapes, and we move as imitations of dreams; there is no intelligence in us, yet we think we have good sense.
[tr. Collard & Cropp (2008)]Alas, the ancient proverb holds well:
We old men are nothing other than a sound
and an image, lurking imitations of dreams.
We have no mind and but we think we know how to think well.
[tr. @sentantiq (2014)]
Full many various qualities distinguish
The Cyprian Goddess; both supreme delight
And sorrow she dispenses to mankind:
O may I meet with her when most propitious.
[Τῇ δ’ ‘ Αφροδίτῃ πόλλ’ ἔνεστι ποικίλα ·
τέρπει τε γὰρ μάλιστα καὶ λυπεῖ βροτούς ·
τύχοιμι δ’ αὐτῆς, ἡνίκ ̓ ἐστὶν εὐμενής .]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 26 (TGF) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
The Cyprian Goddess is Aphrodite, the goddess of love.
Nauck frag. 26, Barnes frag. 34, Musgrave frag. 10. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Aphrodite has many shades:
She can please or aggrieve men completely.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Whoever too precipitately yields
To anger, shall find sorrow at the last:
For wrath unbridled oft deceives mankind.[Οργή γάρ όστις ευθέως χαρίζεται ,
Κακώς τελευτά πλείστα γάρ σφάλλει βρoτούς .]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 31 (TGF) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 31, Barnes frag. 62, Musgrave frag.3. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:Whoever yields to anger suffers a piteous end.
[Source]
A bad beginning makes a bad ending.
[κακῆς <ἀπ'> ἀρχῆς γίγνεται τέλος κακόν]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 32 (TGF)
(Source)
Nauck frag. 32. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:A bad ending comes from a bad beginning.
[tr. Collard & Cropp (2008)]
A thing I am not anxious to preserve
Is this frail life; for soon as one woe ends,
Others commence, and our weak eyes discern not
What evil fortunes yet remain behind.[αἰεὶ τὸ µὲν ζῇ, τὸ δὲ µεθίσταται κακόν,
τὸ δ’ αὖ πέφηνεν αὖθις ἐξ ἀρχῆς νέον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Æolus [Αἴολος], frag. 35 (TGF) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 35, Barnes frag. 51, Musgrave frag. 15, 16. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:One ill is ever clinging;
One treads upon its heels;
A third, in distance springing,
Its fearful front reveals.
[tr. Peacock (1897)]One trouble alive and well, another gone,
as all afresh a new one comes our way.
[Source]
Time will explain it all. He is a talker, and needs no questioning before he speaks.
[τὰ πόλλ’ ἀνάγκη διαφέρει τολμήματα]
We alone are right-minded; everyone else is wrong.
[μόνοι γὰρ εὖ φρονοῦμεν, οἱ δ᾽ ἄλλοι κακῶς.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 196 [Teiresias/Τειρεσίας] (405 BC) [tr. Robinson (2014)]
(Source)
When asked by Cadmus about being the only men of Thebes attending the Bacchanal. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:Because ourselves alone
Are truly wise, but others judge amiss.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Yes, for we alone think rightly, the rest wrongly.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]All else misjudge; we only are the wise.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Alone: For we are wise, the rest are fools.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 179]Yea, for we alone are wise, the rest are mad.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Yea, we alone are wise; the rest be fools.
[tr. Way (1898)]Aye, Thebes is blinded. Thou and I can see.
[tr. Murray (1902)]They are all blind.
Only we can see.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]Yes, for only we are sane -- the rest are mad.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]We are the only men right-minded; the rest are perverse.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]We alone think well, the others ill.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]The only ones with healthy minds. The rest are sick.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Only we think right. The others vilely.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Yes, since only we reason well. The rest are fools!
[tr. Esposito (1998)]The only ones in our right minds. The rest are mad.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Yes, only we have any sense, the rest have none.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]Yes, we alone have sense, the others none.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Yes, Kadmos because we are the only ones who can think straight. The rest of them? They are all wrong!
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]We alone've got it right; the others, wrongly.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]Yes, indeed,
for we're the only ones whose minds are clear.
As for the others, well, their thinking's wrong.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 247ff]The rest are blind. Only we can see.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]We’re the only ones wise enough. The rest ... less so.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Of course; no one else has enough sense.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]We alone are sensible, all the others foolish.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
Stories of our women leaving home to frisk
in mock ecstasies among the thickets on the mountain,
dancing in honor of the latest divinity,
a certain Dionysus, whoever he may be!
In their midst stand bowls brimming with wine.
And then, one by one, the women wander off
to hidden nooks where they serve the lusts of men.
Priestesses of Bacchus they claim they are,
but it’s really Aphrodite they adore.[γυναῖκας ἡμῖν δώματ᾽ ἐκλελοιπέναι
πλασταῖσι βακχείαισιν, ἐν δὲ δασκίοις
ὄρεσι θοάζειν, τὸν νεωστὶ δαίμονα
Διόνυσον, ὅστις ἔστι, τιμώσας χοροῖς:
πλήρεις δὲ θιάσοις ἐν μέσοισιν ἑστάναι
κρατῆρας, ἄλλην δ᾽ ἄλλοσ᾽ εἰς ἐρημίαν
πτώσσουσαν εὐναῖς ἀρσένων ὑπηρετεῖν,
πρόφασιν μὲν ὡς δὴ μαινάδας θυοσκόους,
τὴν δ᾽ Ἀφροδίτην πρόσθ᾽ ἄγειν τοῦ Βακχίου.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 217ff [Pentheus/Πενθεύς] (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Their homes
Our women have deserted, on pretence
That they in mystic orgies are engaged;
On the umbrageous hills they chant the praise
Of this new God, whoe'er he be, this Bacchus;
Him in their dances they revere, and place
Amid their ranks huge goblets fraught with wine:
Some fly to pathless deserts, where they meet
Their paramours, while they in outward shew
Are Mænedes by holy rites engrossed.
Yet Venus more than Bacchus they revere.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]The women have left our homes in contrived Bacchic rites, and rush about in the shadowy mountains, honoring with dances this new deity Dionysus, whoever he is. I hear that mixing-bowls stand full in the midst of their assemblies, and that they each creep off different ways into secrecy to serve the beds of men, on the pretext that they are Maenads worshipping; but they consider Aphrodite before Bacchus.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Our women all have left their homes, to join
These fabled mysteries. On the shadowy rocks
Frequent they sit, this God of yesterday,
Dionysus, whosoe'er he be, with revels
Dishonorable honoring. In the midst
Stand the crowned goblets; and each stealing forth,
This way and that, creeps to a lawless bed;
In pretext, holy sacrificing Mænads,
But serving Aphrodite more than Bacchus.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Our women have deserted from their homes,
Pretending Bacchic rites, and now they lurk
In the shady hill-tops reverencing forsooth
This Dionysus, this new deity.
Full bowls of wine are served out to the throng;
And scattered here and there through the glades,
The wantons hurry to licentious love.
They call themselves the priestess Mænades;
Bacchus invoke, but Aphrodite serve.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 200ff]I hear that our women-folk have left their homes on pretence of Bacchic rites, and on the wooded hills rush wildly to and fro, honouring in the dance this new god Dionysus, whoe’er he is; and in the midst of each revel-rout the brimming wine-bowl stands, and one by one they steal away to lonely spots to gratify their lust, pretending forsooth that they are Mænads bent on sacrifice, though it is Aphrodite they are placing before the Bacchic god.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]How from their homes our women have gone forth
Feigning a Bacchic rapture, and rove wild
O'er wooded hills, in dances honouring
Dionysus, this new God -- whoe'er he be.
And midst each revel-rout the wine-bowls stand
Brimmed: and to lonely nooks, some here, some there,
They steal, to work with men the deed of shame,
In pretext Maenad priestesses, forsooth,
But honouring Aphroditê more than Bacchus.
[tr. Way (1898)]Our own
Wives, our own sisters, from their hearths are flown
To wild and secret rites; and cluster there
High on the shadowy hills, with dance and prayer
To adore this new-made God, this Dionyse,
Whate'er he be! -- And in their companies
Deep wine-jars stand, and ever and anon
Away into the loneliness now one
Steals forth, and now a second, maid or dame,
Where love lies waiting, not of God! The flame,
They say, of Bacchios wraps them. Bacchios! Nay,
'Tis more to Aphrodite that they pray.
[tr. Murray (1902)]That our women have abandoned their homes
in fake bacchic revels, and in the deep-shaded
mountains are roaming around, honoring with dances
the new-made god Dionysus, whoever he is;
that wine-bowls are set among the sacred companies
full to the brim, and that one by one the women go crouching
into the wilderness, to serve the lechery of men --
they profess to be maenads making sacrifice,
but actually they put Aphrodite before the Bacchic god.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]Our women, I discover, have abandoned their homes on some pretence of Bacchic worship, and go gadding about in the woods on the mountain side, dancing in honour of this upstart god Dionysus, whoever he may be. They tell me, in the midst of each group of revellers stands a bowl full of wine; and the women go creeping off this way and that to lonely places and there give themselves to lecherous men, under the excuse that they are Maenad priestesses; though in their ritual Aphrodite comes before Bacchus.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]They leave their home, desert their children
Follow the new fashion and join the Bacchae
Flee the hearth to mob the mountains -- those contain
Deep shadows of course, secret caves to hide
Lewd games for this new god -- Dionysos!
That's the holy spirit newly discovered.
Dionysos! Their ecstasy is flooded down
In brimming bowls of wine -- so much for piety!
Soused, with all the senses roused, they crawl
Into the bushes and there of course a man
Awaits them. All part of the service for for this
Mysterious deity. The hypocrisy? All they care about
Is getting serviced.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]Our women gone, abandoning their homes,
pretending to be bacchae, massing
in the bushy mountains, this latest divinity
Dionysos (whoever he is) honouring and chorusing,
filling and setting amidst the thiasus
wine-bowls, and one by one in solitude
sneaking off to cater to male bidding, --
supposedly as sacrificial maenads,
but Aphrodite ranks before their Bacchic One.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Our women, I am told, have left their homes,
in a religious trance -- what travesty! --
and scamper up and down the wooded mountains, dancing
in honor of this newfangled God, Dionysus,
whoever he might be.
In the middle of each female group
of revelers, I hear,
stands a jar of wine, brimming! And that taking turns,
they steal away, one here, one there, to shady nooks,
where they satisfy the lechery of men,
pretending to be priestesses,
performing their religious duties. Ha!
That performance reeks more of Aphrodite than of Bacchus.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Our women have abandoned our homes
And, in a jacked-up frenzy of phony inspiration,
Riot in the dark mountains,
Honoring this upstart god, Dionysos --
Whatever he is -- dancing in his chorus.
Full jugs of wine stand in their midst
And each woman slinks off
To the wilderness to serve male lust,
Pretending they are praying priestesses,
But Aphrodite leads them, not Bacchus.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Our women have abandoned their homes
for the sham revelries of Bacchus
frisking about on the dark-shadowed mountains
honoring with their dances the latest god, Dionysius, whoever he is.
They've set up their mixing bowls brimming with wine
amidst their cult gatherings, and each lady slinks off in a different direction
to some secluded wilderness to service the lusts of men.
They pretend to be maenads performing sacrifices
but in reality they rank Aphrodite's pleasures before Bacchus!
[tr. Esposito (1998)]These women of ours have left their homes
and run away to the dark mountains, pretending
to be Bacchants. It's this brand-new god,
Dionysus, whoever that is; they're dancing for him!
They gather in throngs around full bowls
of wine; then one by one they sneak away
to lonely places where they sleep with men.
Priestesses they call themselves! Maenads!
It's Aphrodite they put first, not Bacchus.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Women leave
Our houses for bogus revels (“Bakkhic” indeed!),
Dashing through the dark shade of mountain forests
To honor with their dancing this new god,
Dionysos -- whoever he may be --
And right in their midst they set full bowls of wine,
And slink into the thickets to meet men there,
Saying they are maenads sacrificing
When they really rank Aphrodite first,
Over Bakkhos!
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]The women have left our homes in fictitious ecstatic rites and flit about on the thick-shaded mountains, honoring the new god Dionysus, whoever he is, with their dancing. They set up full wine bowls in the middle of their assembles and sneak off, one here, one there, to tryst in private with men. The pretext for all of this is that they are maenads, performing their rites, but they hold Aphrodite in higher regard than the bacchic god.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]I hear our women have flown from their proper place in the home -- dancing about in the shadowy hills in sham ecstasy for this newfound Dionysus! And these wine-befuddled women slink into the darkness, drawn by the sirens of lust. Fine high priestesses of the new god! They seem to make more worship of Aphrodite than of Bacchus!
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]I heard that our women have left their homes and gone off to the mountains dancing the Bacchic dances! Some new, young god! Utter rubbish! There they are, placing great tubs full of wine in the centre of their group, in the middle of nowhere and off they go, one here, another there, rolling around with any man they come across and giving the excuse that they are maenads; but what are they doing? Serving Dionysos? No way! They’re serving Aphrodite!
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]The women have left us, abandoning their homes in
phony Bacchic worship and that they gad about on
the bushy mountaintops; that this "new" god Dio-
nysus, whoever he really is, is honoured in their dances,
and that they set the sacred wine-bowls, fill'd, in the
midst of the thiasoi, each slinking off her sep'rate
way to serve males' hot lust in the woods, pre-
tending to be Maenads sacrificing; and so
they place Aphrodite on top of Bacchus.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]... women leaving home
to go to silly Bacchic rituals,
cavorting there in mountain shadows,
with dances honoring some upstart god,
this Dionysus, whoever he may be. Mixing bowls
in the middle of their meetings filled with wine,
they creep off one by one to lonsely spots
to have sex with men, claiming they're Maenads
busy worshipping. But they rank Aphrodite,
goddess of sexual desire, ahead of Bacchus.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 272ff]Women have deserted their homes for these
fraudulent rites -- up in the woods and mountains,
dancing to celebrate some new god --
Dionysus, whoever he is.
Drink is at the bottom of it all.
Huge bowls stand in their midst, I'm told,
brimming with wine, and one by one the women
slip into the shadows to satisfy the lusts of men.
They say they are priestesses, sworn to Bacchus,
but it's clearly Aphrodite they adore.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Women have forsaken their homes. It’s a front, it’s a fake, a false Bacchic rite, an excuse for them to cavort in the mountain’s shade, dancing to honor this "new god" Dionysus.
Whoever that is. Whoever he really is.
I hear they’ve got casks of wine up there, full to the brim, just sitting there in the midst of their frolicking. And that they sneak off into secluded corners, servicing men, excusing it as a sacred thing, a Maenad’s ritual.
If it is a ritual, it’s to Aphrodite, not this Bacchus of theirs.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]How our women
had run off
to celebrate
perferse rites
in the mountains,
roaming about with this
brand new god, Dionysus --
whoever he is.
Everywhere
in the midst of their revels
stand full wine bowls.
And women slink off
one by one
to copulate
with any man
who happens by.
They pretend to be Maenads, priestesses.
It's Aphrodite,
not Bacchus,
they worship.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Our women have left our homes in contrived Bacchic rites, and rush about in the shadowy mountains, honoring with khoroi this new daimōn Dionysus, whoever he is. I hear that mixing-bowls stand full in the midst of their assemblies, and that each woman, flying to secrecy in different directions, yields to the embraces of men, on the pretext that they are Maenads worshipping. They consider Aphrodite of greater priority than Dionysus.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
When once you see
the glint of wine shining at the feasts of women,
then you may be sure the festival is rotten.[γυναιξὶ γὰρ
ὅπου βότρυος ἐν δαιτὶ γίγνεται γάνος,
οὐχ ὑγιὲς οὐδὲν ἔτι λέγω τῶν ὀργίων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 260ff [Pentheus/Πενθεύς] (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For when women
Share at their feasts the grape's bewitching juice;
From their licentious orgies, I pronounce
No good results.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For where women have the delight of the grape-cluster at a feast, I say that none of their rites is healthy any longer.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]For where ’mong women
The grape’s sweet poison mingles with the feast,
Nought holy may we augur of such worship.
[tr. Milman (1865)]When women drain the wine-cup at the feast,
Foul is the orgie, dangerous the disease.
[tr. Rogers (1872)]For where the gladsome grape is found at women’s feasts, I deny that their rites have any longer good results.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]For when
In women's feasts the cluster's pride hath part,
No good, say I, comes of their revelry.
[tr. Way (1898)]When once the gleam
Of grapes hath lit a Woman's Festival,
In all their prayers is no more health at all!
[tr. Murray (1902)]For where women
have the sparkle of the vine in their festivities,
there, I say, nothing wholesome remains in their rituals.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]As for women, my opinion is this: when the sparkle of sweet wine appears at their feasts, no good can be expected from their ceremonies.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]I tell you, when women
have the cluster’s refreshment at banquets,
there’s nothing healthy left about their orgies.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Take my word,
when women are allowed to fast on wine, there is no
telling to what lengths their filthy minds will go!
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]I say that feast where a woman takes
The gleaming grape is most diseased.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]For whenever the liquid joy
of the grape comes into women's festivals, then, I assure, you,
there's nothing wholesome in their rites.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Because when women
get their sparkle at a feast from wine,
I say the entire ritual is corrupt.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]For when the women have
The bright grape-cluster gleaming at their feasts,
There’s nothing healthy in these rites, I say.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]Wherever women get the gleaming grape to drink in their feasts, everything about their rites is diseased.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]I’m telling you both, no good comes out of drunk women.
Wine wisdom and orgies are dangerous.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]For whenever the pleasure of the grape's
cluster comes shimmering to women in feast, I say no-
thing is left wholesome in their orgies!
[tr. Valerie (2005)]Whenever women at some banquet start to take pleasure in the gleaming wine, I say there's nothing healthy in their worship.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]It's always the same: as soon as you allow drink and women at a festival, everything gets sordid.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]When women start getting into the wine, I say it’s gone too far. It’s not healthy.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]There is no good in these festivals where shimmering wine corrupts women.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]For where women have the delight of the grape at a feast, I say that none of their rites is healthy any longer.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
When a sensible man
has a good cause to defend, to be eloquent
is no great feat. Your tongue is so nimble
one might think you had some sense, but your words
contain none at all. The powerful man
who matches insolence with glibness is worst than a fool.
He is a public danger![ὅταν λάβῃ τις τῶν λόγων ἀνὴρ σοφὸς
καλὰς ἀφορμάς, οὐ μέγ᾽ ἔργον εὖ λέγειν:
σὺ δ᾽ εὔτροχον μὲν γλῶσσαν ὡς φρονῶν ἔχεις,
ἐν τοῖς λόγοισι δ᾽ οὐκ ἔνεισί σοι φρένες.
θράσει δὲ δυνατὸς καὶ λέγειν οἷός τ᾽ ἀνὴρ
κακὸς πολίτης γίγνεται νοῦν οὐκ ἔχων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 266ff [Tiresias/Τειρεσίας] (405 BC) [tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]
(Source)
To Pentheus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:When the wise man hath found a specious topic
On which to argue, he with ease may frame
An eloquent harangue. Your tongue indeed
Is voluble like theirs who reason well,
But in your language no discretion reigns.
He who possesses courage, sovereign power. A
And fluency of speech, if not endued
With wisdom, is an evil citizen.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Whenever a wise man takes a good occasion for his speech, it is not a great task to speak well. You have a rapid tongue as though you were sensible, but there is no sense in your words. A man powerful in his boldness, one capable of speaking well, becomes a bad citizen in his lack of sense.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]'Tis easy to be eloquent, for him
That's skilled in speech, and hath a stirring theme.
Thou hast the flowing tongue of a wise man,
But there's no wisdom in thy fluent words;
For the bold demagogue, powerful in speech,
Is but a dangerous citizen lacking sense.
[tr. Milman (1865)]When wise men reason from sound principles,
They find it no hard task to reason well.
Thy tongue’s as fluent as the wisest man’s,
And yet thy argument is void of sense.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 253ff]Whenso a man of wisdom finds a good topic for argument, it is no difficult matter to speak well; but thou, though possessing a glib tongue as if endowed with sense, art yet devoid thereof in all thou sayest. A headstrong man, if he have influence and a capacity for speaking, makes a bad citizen because he lacks sense.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Whene'er a wise man finds a noble theme
For speech, 'tis easy to be eloquent.
Thou -- roundly runs thy tongue, as thou wert wise;
But in these words of thine sense is there none.
The rash man, armed with power and ready of speech,
Is a bad citizen, as void of sense.
[tr. Way (1898)]Good words, my son, come easily, when he
That speaks is wise, and speaks but for the right.
Else come they never! Swift are thine, and bright
As though with thought, yet have no thought at all.
[tr. Murray (1902)]Give a wise man an honest brief to plead
and his eloquence is no remarkable achievement.
But you are glib; your phrases come rolling out
smoothly on the tongue, as though your words were wise
instead of foolish. The man whose glibness flows
from his conceit of speech declares the thing he is:
a worthless and a stupid citizen.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]When a wise man chooses a sane basis
for his arguments, it is no great task to speak well;
but you have a glib tongue, as though in your right mind,
yet in your words there is no real sense.
The man who is influential by sheer aggressiveness, and knows how to speak,
proves to be a bad citizen -- for he lacks sanity.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]When a clever man has a plausible theme to argue, to be eloquent is no great feat. But though you seem, by your glib tongue, to be intelligent, yet your words are foolish. Power and eloquence in a headstrong man can only lead to folly; and such a man is a danger to the state.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Oh it's so easy for some to make speeches.
They pick a soft target and the words rush out.
Now listen you. Your tongue runs loose
Makes a plausible sound and might
Almost be taken for sense. But you have none.
Your glibness flows from sheer conceit.
Arrogant, over-confident and a gift -- yes --
A gift for phrases, and that makes you a great
Danger to your fellow men.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]A man who takes a fair basis for speaking,
a wise man, has no trouble speaking well;
you have a well-wheeled tongue, as though thinking,
but in the words you speak there is no thought.
A man empowered by daring and able to speak
becomes a bad citizen, devoid of reason.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]When some wise man has a fair cause
o present, to speak well is easy.
You have a tongue, glib like thought,
But no sense lies in your words.
The man that rashness prompts to speak
Proves an evil citizen and senseless.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Whenever a wise man sets out to argue an honest case
it's no great undertaking to argue well.
Your tongue runs smooth like a wheel, as if you were a man of reason,
but your words reveal no reason.
If he behaves recklessly, an able and articulate man
turns out to be a bad citizen because he lacks good sense.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]When a prudent speaker takes up a noble cause, he’ll have no great trouble to speak well. You, on the other hand, have a tongue that runs on smoothly and sounds intelligent. But what it says is brainless. True, boldness can help a man speak powerfully, but he’ll turn out bad for the city because he'll have no sense.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]It's no great task to speak well, when a man's
Intelligent and starts well with good words.
But you: your tongue runs smoothly, as if you had
Some understanding. Yet your words are senseless.
A man like you, whose strength is that he's bold,
Who's good at speaking, too, can only make
a bad citizen -- for he lacks good sense.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]When a wise man has a good case to argue, eloquence is easy. As for you, though you think yourself clever and have a ready tongue, there is no intelligence in what you say. [A man whose power lies in brashness and who is a fluent speaker becomes a bad citizen if he lacks sense.]
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]As for you -- your tongue is quick and your talk runs as if you had wit, but there is none in what you say. A man who confuses impudence with strength is a fool.
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]When a wise man is given the opportunity to speak, it’s no big problem to speak the truth. You, Pentheus, you are, of course an articulate man, or so you think, but your words lack logic. Audacity, strength and eloquence all on their own, make for a bad citizen -- a stupid one.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]When a man who's wise in words starts his speech
from a proper course, it is no great task to speak well;
and you, spinning a tricky tongue, seem to make sense,
but there is no sense in what you are saying;
and a man who is bold, powerful and a clever speaker
makes for a bad citizen, if he has not the proper mind.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]When a man of wisdom has good occasion to speak out and takes the opportunity, it's not that hard to give an excellent speech. You've got a quick tongue and seem intelligent, but your words don't make any sense at all. A fluent orator whose power comes from self-assurance and from nothing else makes a bad citizen, for he lacks sense.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]When a wise man has an honest case to plead, then eloquence, I find, is very easy to achieve. You think yourself clever, and have a smooth tongue, but, your words are foolish. The man whose power lies in his conceit does not make a good citizen.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]It’s no great task for a wise man to speak well when the time comes, if he picks it carefully. You hold yourself as if you’re one of these ready-tongued individuals. You’re not. Your words lack sense behind them. Even the boldest speaker fails as a citizen when his words lack sense.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Wisdom from the wise surprises no one. But your clever tongue makes yuou seem wise when you have no understanding. Rash eloquence is society's disaster.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Whenever a sophos man takes a good occasion for his speech, it is not a great task to speak well. You have a fluent tongue as though you are sensible, but there is no sense in your words. A bold and powerful man, one capable of speaking well, becomes a kakos citizen if he lacks sense.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
Let me explain, young man, the two blessings of human life.
Firstly Demeter, Mother Earth — call her what you will —
sustains us mortals with the gift of grain, of solid food.
But he who came next — son of Semele —
matched her gift to man: he brought us wine.
And wine brought peace to the troubled mind,
gave an end to grief, and gave us sleep — blessed sleep —
a forgetting of our sadness.[δύο γάρ, ὦ νεανία,
τὰ πρῶτ᾽ ἐν ἀνθρώποισι: Δημήτηρ θεά —
γῆ δ᾽ ἐστίν, ὄνομα δ᾽ ὁπότερον βούλῃ κάλει:
αὕτη μὲν ἐν ξηροῖσιν ἐκτρέφει βροτούς:
ὃς δ᾽ ἦλθ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽, ἀντίπαλον ὁ Σεμέλης γόνος
βότρυος ὑγρὸν πῶμ᾽ ηὗρε κεἰσηνέγκατο
280θνητοῖς, ὃ παύει τοὺς ταλαιπώρους βροτοὺς
λύπης, ὅταν πλησθῶσιν ἀμπέλου ῥοῆς,
ὕπνον τε λήθην τῶν καθ᾽ ἡμέραν κακῶν
δίδωσιν, οὐδ᾽ ἔστ᾽ ἄλλο φάρμακον πόνων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 274ff [Tiresias/Τειρεσίας] (405 BC) [tr. Robertson (2014)]
(Source)
To Pentheus, discussing Dionysus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:The two chief rulers of this nether world,
Proud boy, are Ceres, Goddess most benign,
Or Earth, (distinguish her by either name)
Who nourishes mankind with solid food:
Yet hath the son of Semele discover'd,
And introduc'd, the grape's delicious draught,
Which vies with her, which causes every grief
To cease among the wretched tribes of men,
With the enlivening beverage of the vine
Whenever they are fill'd; he also gives
Sleep, sweet oblivion to our daily cares,
Than which no medicine is with greater power
Endued to heal our anguish.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For two things, young man, are first among men: the goddess Demeter -- she is the earth, but call her whatever name you wish; she nourishes mortals with dry food; but he who came afterwards, the offspring of Semele, discovered a match to it, the liquid drink of the grape, and introduced it to mortals. It releases wretched mortals from grief, whenever they are filled with the stream of the vine, and gives them sleep, a means of forgetting their daily troubles, nor is there another cure for hardships.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Youth! there are two things
Man's primal need, Demeter, the boon Goddess
(Or rather will ye call her Mother Earth?),
With solid food maintains the race of man.
He, on the other hand, the son of Semele,
Found out the grape's rich juice, and taught us mortals
That which beguiles the miserable of mankind
Of sorrow, when they quaff the vine's rich stream.
Sleep too, and drowsy oblivion of care
He gives, all-healing medicine of our woes.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Two names, vain youth,
Rank first among mankind : Demeter one,
And Ge the other; give which name thou willest.
She nurtures man, but quenches not his thirst;
The son of Semele has helped this want:
He finds and grants to men the grape’s rich draught;
He takes away the woe of wearied souls,
Filling sad hearts with the vine’s ruddy stream;
And gives them sleep, the cure of daily grief,
The only drug which lightens human ills.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 262ff]Two things there are, young prince, that hold first rank among men, the goddess Demeter, that is, the earth, -- call her which name thou please; she it is that feedeth men with solid food; and as her counterpart came this god, the son of Semele, who discovered the juice of the grape and introduced it to mankind, stilling thereby each grief that mortals suffer from, soon as e’er they are filled with the juice of the vine; and sleep also he giveth, sleep that brings forgetfulness of daily ills, the sovereign charm for all our woe.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Two chiefest Powers,
Prince, among men there are: divine Demeter --
Earth is she, name her by which name thou wilt; --
She upon dry food nurtureth mortal men:
Then followeth Semelê's Son; to match her gift
The cluster's flowing draught he found, and gave
To mortals, which gives rest from grief to men
Woe-worn, soon as the vine's stream filleth them.
And sleep, the oblivion of our daily ills,
He gives -- there is none other balm for toils.
[tr. Way (1898)]Young Prince, that in man's world are first of worth.
Dêmêtêr one is named; she is the Earth --
Call her which name thou will! -- who feeds man's frame
With sustenance of things dry. And that which came
Her work to perfect, second, is the Power
From Semelê born. He found the liquid shower
Hid in the grape. He rests man's spirit dim
From grieving, when the vine exalteth him.
He giveth sleep to sink the fretful day
In cool forgetting. Is there any way
With man's sore heart, save only to forget?
[tr. Murray (1902)]Mankind, young man, possesses two supreme blessings.
First of these is the goddess Demeter, or Earth
whichever name you choose to call her by.
It was she who gave to man his nourishment of grain.
But after her there came the son of Semele,
who matched her present by inventing liquid wine
as his gift to man. For filled with that good gift,
suffering mankind forgets its grief; from it
comes sleep; with it oblivion of the troubles
of the day. There is no other medicine
for misery.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]For there are two things, young man,
that are first among humans: the goddess Demeter
(she is the earth; call her which name you like) --
she nourishes men by way of dry food;
and he who filled the complementary role, Semele's offspring,
discovered the grape-cluster's liquid drink and introduced it
to mortals, that which stops wretched men
from suffering, when they are filled with the stream of the vine,
and gives sleep as oblivion of the evils that happen by day;
nor is there any other cure against distress.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]There are two powers, young man, which are supreme in human affairs: first, the goddess Demeter, she is the Earth -- call her by what name you will; and she supplies mankind with solid food. Second, Dionysus the son of Semele; the blessing he provides is the counterpart to the blessing of bread; he discovered and bestowed on men the service of drink, the juice that streams from the vine-clusters; men have but to take their fill of wine, and the sufferings of an unhappy race are banished, each day's troubles are forgotten in sleep -- indeed this is our only cure for the weariness of life.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Think of two principles, two supreme
Principles in life. First, the principle
Of earth, Demeter, goddess of sil or what you will.
That nourishes man, yields him grain. Bread. Womb-like
It earths him as it were, anchors his feet.
Second, the opposite, and complementary principle --
Ether, locked in the grape until released by man.
For after Demeter came the son of Semele
And matched her present with the juice of grapes.
Think of it as more than drug for pain
Though it is that.
We wash our souls, our parched
Aching souls in streams of wine and enter
Sleep and oblivion. Filled with this good gift
Mankind forgets its grief.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]Two things, my boy,
are primary for men: goddess Demeter
(that’s Earth, call her whichever name you like),
the nourisher of mortals in dry food;
next comes her rival, the child of Semele:
the cluster’s wet drink he found and introduced
to men, that stops poor mortals their distress
when they are filled to flowing with the vine,
giver of sleep, forgetfulness of daily ills,
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Young man,
two are the forces most precious to mankind.
The first is Demeter, the Goddess.
She is the Earth -- or any name you wish to call her --
and she sustains humanity with solid food.
Next came the son of the virgin, Dionysus,
bringing the counterpart to bread, wine
and the blessings of life's flowing juices.
His blood, the blood of the grape,
lightens the burden of our mortal misery.
When, after their daily toils, men drink their fill,
sleep comes to them, bringing release form all their troubles.
There is no other cure for sorrow.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Two things, young man,
Are first among mankind: Demeter,
She's the Earth -- call her by either name --
Who nourishes mortals with dry food.
The other, who came after, the seed
Of Semele, discovered Demeter's wet rival,
The drink of the grap, brought it to man
To ease pain for suffering mortals,
When they are filled with the flowing vine,
And to give sleep, forgetful of daily life.
There is no other cure for pain.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]For there are two things, young man,
that are the primary elements among humans. First there’s the goddess Demeter.
She’s the earth But you can call her by whatever name you wish.
She nourishes mortals with dry foods. But he who came afterward,
Semele’s offspring, discovered the wet drink of the grape
as a counter-balance to Demeter’s bread. He introduced it
to mortals to stop their sorrow and pain.
Whenever men are filled with the stream of the grape-vine
they can sleep and forget the evils of the day.
No other medicine alleviates human suffering.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Young man, there are two
first principles in human life: the goddess Demeter --
or earth -- you may use what name you like --
who nourishes us by means of the dry element;
and the second one balances her exactly, that’s
Semélê’s child, who discovered, in the wet element,
a drink from grapes, a drink he delivered to us.
This brings relief from pain for long-suffering mortals
when they are filled with the vineyard’s bounty;
it grants sleep, lets them forget the evils of the day,
and there is no other cure for trouble.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Young man -- there are two great first things that we
as mortals have: the goddess of the Earth,
Deméter -- call her by whatever name
You wish -- gave us our solid food, and he
Who came next, Semélê’s child, gave us liquid --
From the grape -- as a counterpart to Deméter's bread.
The god's invention, it give sus poor mortals
Release from pain and sorrow, when we're filled
With what flows from the vine; it gives us sleep,
When we can forget the evils of the day.
Nor for us mortals can another drug
For suffering surpass it.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 321]Two things are chief among mortals, young man: the goddess Demeter -- she is Earth but call her either name you like -- nourishes mortals with dry food. But he who came next, the son of Semele, discovered as its counterpart the drink that flows from the grape cluster and introduced it to mortals. It is this that frees trouble-laden mortals from their pain -- when they fill themselves with the juice of the vine -- this that gives sleep to make one forget the day's troubles: there is no other treatment for misery.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]There are two things in this world, young prince, that have been gifted to mankind. The first is the goddess Demeter or the earth, if you wish to call her so, or any other name you would give her, who feeds us mortals with solid food. The second is the son of Semele, who brought us the liquid hidden in the grape. This is no small gift, for when else can mortals loose the ties of their grief? It is wine -- that slips away the ragged robes of the day, sinking us into cool forgetting.
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]There are two things, young man that are most important to people: It is goddess Demetre (call her by whatever other name you want) who feeds the folk on Earth and who IS Earth; and her counterpart, Dionysos, the son of Semele, this god, the god who discovered the juice of the grape and which he brought to us mortals. This liquid holds back the pain of the tortured soul, gives soft sleep to folk and lets them forget their daily suffering. There’s truly no better medicine for pain or fatigue.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]For there are two things, young one, two, that are
first among humans: One is the goddess Demeter --
and she is earth, call her whatever you will --
it is she who nourishes mortals in corn and grain;
but he who comes after, Semele's offspring, he invented them to match
the flowing drink of the grape and introduced it to mortals;
it gives wretched humans pause from pain when-
ever they are filled with the vine's stream,
and sleep, as aids to forget the troubles of the day:
there is no other drug that cures misery.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]Young man, among human beings two things stand out preeminent, of highest rank. Goddess Demeter is one -- she's the earth (though can call her any name you wish), and she feeds mortal people cereal grains. The other one came later, born of Semele -- he brought with him liquor from the grape, something to match the bread from Demeter. He introduced it among mortal men. When they can drink, up what streams off the vine, unhappy mortals are released from pain. It grants them sleep, allows them to forget their daily troubles. Apart from wine, there is no cure for human hardship.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]For there are two things, young man, two that are prized above all else by men. The first is the goddess Demeter, for she is the Earth. Call her whichever you prefer. It is she who brings forth solid food from the earth. Dry goods, if you will. But her junior, Semele’s child, showed us the other side of the coin, found the nectar in a bunch of grapes and gave it to mortals, letting them be free of pain when they partake of the river-of-the-vine. He gives us sleep, to forget the evils of the day for a time, and there is no better prescription for pain.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]But let me tell you there are two powers over us, sometimes called "the dry" and "the wet." The first is personified by the goddess Demeter or Earth -- whichever you wish to call her; she nourishes mortals with dry food, with bread. This new god, Semele's child, has come with a matching gift, a crystalline liquid from clustered grapes which he generously brought to end all human suffering. Wine fills the emptiness in the grieved heart and helps us forget in blissful sleep. Hsi is the only medicine to cure our pain.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Two things, young man, have supremacy among humans: The goddess Demeter -- she is the earth, but call her whatever name you wish -- nourishes mortals with dry food. But he who came then, the offspring of Semele, invented a rival, the wet drink of the grape, and introduced it to mortals. It releases wretched mortals from their pains, whenever they are filled with the stream of the vine, and gives them sleep, a means of forgetting their daily woes. There is no other cure for pains [ponoi].
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
A foolish man speaks foolishness.
[Μῶρα γὰρ μῶρος λέγει.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 369 [Tiresias/Τειρεσίας] (405 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
To Cadmus, about his grandson, Pentheus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Folly issues from the mouth of fools.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Fools still speak folly.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Fools blurt their folly out.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 357]The words of a fool are folly.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Fools alone speak folly.
[tr. Way (1898)]Blind words and a blind heart.
[tr. Murray (1902)]The words of fools finish in folly.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]He who speaks folly is himself a fool.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]The things he has said reveal the depth of his folly.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]It is a fool who folly speaks.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]You can tell a dangerous fool by his own words.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]For a fool speaks folly.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]For Pentheus is a fool and says foolish things.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]He who speaks foolishness is a fool.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]The fool speaks foolish things.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 435]His talk is folly and he's a fool.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Often a fool speaks foolishly.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]A man who's mad tends to utter madness.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]His foolish words will end in folly.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]A fool says foolish things.
[tr. @sentantiq (2016)]The speech of the fool is foolish.
[tr. @sentantiq (2018)]The tongue of a fool makes a foolish noise.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]For a foolish man says foolish things.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
Cleverness is not wisdom,
nor is thinking thoughts that are not mortal.
Life is short; this being so,
who would pursue great things
and not bear with what is at hand? These
are the ways of madmen and
men of evil counsel, at least
in my judgment.[τὸ σοφὸν δ’ οὐ σοφία,
τό τε μὴ θνατὰ φρονεῖν
βραχὺς αἰών· ἐπὶ τούτωι
δὲ τίς ἂν μεγάλα διώκων
τὰ παρόντ’ οὐχὶ φέροι; μαι
νομένων οἵδε τρόποι καὶ
κακοβούλων παρ’ ἔμοιγε φωτῶν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 395ff (Stasimon 1, Antiphon/Antistrophe 1) [Chorus/Χορός] (405 BC) [tr. Kirk (1970)]
(Source)
The chorus of Bacchantes is playing with the similarly-rooted sophon (cleverness) and sophia (wisdom). (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:That science which beyond the scope
Of frail humanity aspires.
Haunts not the bosom of the Sage.
Short is life, and they who follow
Ambition's splendid treacherous lure
Taste not the blessings of the present hour:
I deem their conduct frantic and unwise.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]But cleverness is not wisdom, nor is thinking on things unfit for mortals. Life is short, and on this account the one who pursues great things does not achieve that which is present. In my opinion, these are the ways of mad and ill-advised men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Beyond the range of mortal eyes
'Tis not wisdom to be wise.
Life is brief, the present clasp,
Nor after some bright future grasp.
Such were the wisdom, as I ween,
Only of frantic and ill-counseled men.
[tr. Milman (1865)]That wisdom is not wise Which aims beyond man’s power.
Short is our life; to grasp at much is but to lose the present good, --
And this to me seems like the deed of frenzied and of foolish men.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 378ff]Ah, not with knowledge is Wisdom bought;
And the spirit that soareth too high for mortals
Shall see few days: whosoever hath caught
At the things too great for a man's attaining,
Even blessings assured shall he lose in the gaining.
Such paths as this, meseemeth, be sought
Of the witless folly that roves distraught.
[tr. Way (1898)]But the world's Wise are not wise,
Claiming more than mortal may.
Life is such a little thing;
Lo, their present is departed,
And the dreams to which they cling
Come not. Mad imagining
Theirs, I ween, and empty-hearted!
[tr. Murray (1902)]Sophistry is not wisdom, and to indulge in thoughts beyond man’s ken is to shorten life; and if a man on such poor terms should aim too high, he may miss the pleasures in his reach. These, to my mind, are the ways of madmen and idiots.
[tr. Coleridge (1907)]And what passes for wisdom is not;
unwise are those who aspire,
who outrange the limits of man.
Briefly, we live. Briefly,
then die. Wherefore, I say,
he who hunts a glory, he who tracks
some boundless, superhuman dream,
may lose his harvest here and now
and garner death. Such men are mad,
their counsels evil.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]To know much is not to be wise.
Pride more than mortal hastens life to its end;
And they who in pride pretend
Beyond man's limit, will lose what lay
Close to their hand and sure.
I count it madness, and know no cure can mend
The evil man and his evil way.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Wisdom is not what is wise,
nor to think non-mortal thoughts.
Life is fleeting; can it be, then, that one seeks after what is greater,
not accepting circumstance?
These are the manners of a madman and, to me, of evil counsel'd persons.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]A knowing mind that ignores its own limits
has a very short span. And the man
who aims too high
never reaps what lies within his grasp.
Such is the folly --
and I know none worse --
of perversely ambitious, fanatical men.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]But shallow wisdom is untrue.
To think beyond this life
Cuts short our life. He who
Pursues the great, forfeits
What lies at hand. Such temperaments
According to my thought, belong
To madmen and the ill-advised.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]So cleverness is not wisdom
nor is it wise to think thoughts unfit for mortals.
Life is short. Given such brevity
who would pursue ambitious ends
And lose what lies at hand?
These, in my opinion at least,
are the ways of madmen and evil counsellors.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Wisdom? It's not wise
to lift our thoughts too high;
we are human, and our time is short.
A man who aims at greatness
will not live to own what he has now.
That, I believe, is the belief of men
whose judgment is foul.
They are insane.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Intellect is not wisdom.
And to think in a manner
not right for mortals means
Life will be short. Who
Would pursue great things
If doing so meant losing what
Is already his?
That is the way, as I see it,
And bad counsel, of madmen.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 469ff]Cleverness is not wisdom
nor is it wise to think thoughts not mortal.
Our life is short: this being so,
a man who pursues great things
may miss what lies at hand. To live thus
is to be, in my judgment
a madman and a fool.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]The wise are not wise if they don’t consider a human’s lot.
Life is short.
He who constantly pursues great achievements in this life, won’t have time to enjoy those he already has achieved.
So far as I can tell, these are the doings of madmen and evil minds.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Cleverness is not wisdom;
Thinking heavenly
Thoughts, short life; in that case,
Who, in hunting greater things,
Would not be content with present fortune?
These are ways of men insane, with-
out understanding, so it seems to me.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]But being clever isn't wisdom.
And thinking deeply about things
isn't suitable for mortal men.
Our life is brief -- that's why
the man who chases greatness
fails to grasp what's near at hand.
That's what madmen do,
men who've lost their wits.
That's what I believe.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 497ff]Cleverness is not wisdom,
that over-reaching mortals
simply shorten their lives.
Life is brief enough as it is,
so hold it all to hand.
Wild ambition is a kind of madness:
stretch too hard for the summit
and you will fail and fall
and plummet back to land.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Cleverness is not wisdom,
and neither is reaching beyond thoughts meant for mortals.
Our lives are short.
Spend all your time reaching
and you miss what’s in front of you.
This is the madman’s way.
Or at least the ill-counseled.
But that’s just my opinion.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Cleverness is not wisdom, and those who'd seem wise as the gods -- their live will be short. Those who seek greatness will not see the snake at their feet. Mad ways set all on the road to disaster.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]It is not wisdom [sophiā] to be overly sophos, and to think things unbefitting mortal men. Life is short, and in it he who pursues great things does not achieve that which is present. In my opinion, these are the ways of mad and ill-counseling men.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]Wisdom is not wit;
Nor is thinking thoughts which belong not to mortals.
Life is brief. And because of this
Whoever seeks out great accomplishments
May not grasp the things at hand.
These are the ways of madmen
And wicked fools, I think.
[tr. @sentantiq (2021)]
Talk sense to a fool
and he calls you foolish.[δόξει τις ἀμαθεῖ σοφὰ λέγων οὐκ εὖ φρονεῖν.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 480 [Dionysus/Διόνυσος] (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
Replying to Pentheus' charge that he's being foolishly evasive.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:He must seem devoid
Of reason, who mysterious truths unfolds
To those who lack discretion.
tr. Wodhull (1809)]One will seem to be foolish if he speaks wisely to an ignorant man.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Who wiseliest speaks, to the fool speaks foolishness.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Boors think a wise man’s words devoid of sense.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 457]He were a fool, methinks, who would utter wisdom to a fool.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Wise answers seem but folly to a fool.
[tr. Way (1898)]Wise words being brought
To blinded eyes will seem as things of nought.
[tr. Murray (1902)]He who talks wisdom to an ignorant man will seem out of his senses.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]A wise speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Talk truth to a deaf man and he
Begs your pardon.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]Wise speech seems thoughtless to the ignorant.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]What makes no sense is talking sense to a fool.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]To the ignorant, wisdom will seem folly.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]To the ignorant man, any speaker of wisdom will seem foolish.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Speak wisdom to a fool and he'll think you have no sense at all.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Wise things to the ignorant will sound like nonsense.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]Speak wisdom to a fool and he will think you foolish.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Wise words spoken in the ear of a fool turn into nothingness.
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]It is not wise for someone to say anything wise to the ignorant.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Wise words will appear foolishness -- to an idiot.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]Yes, but, then,
a man can seem really ignorant
when speaking to a fool.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Sense is nonsense to a fool.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Wisdom always sounds silly to the unwise.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Only a fool takes a warning for an insult.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]One will seem to be foolish if he speaks wise things [sopha] to a senseless man.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
PENTHEUS: Do you hold your rites
during the day or night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly by night.
The darkness is well suited to devotion.
PENTHEUS: Better suited to lechery and seducing women.
DIONYSUS: You can find debauchery by daylight too.[Πενθεύς: τὰ δ᾽ ἱερὰ νύκτωρ ἢ μεθ᾽ ἡμέραν τελεῖς;
Διόνυσος: νύκτωρ τὰ πολλά: σεμνότητ᾽ ἔχει σκότος.
Πενθεύς: τοῦτ᾽ ἐς γυναῖκας δόλιόν ἐστι καὶ σαθρόν.
Διόνυσος: κἀν ἡμέρᾳ τό γ᾽ αἰσχρὸν ἐξεύροι τις ἄν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 485ff (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:PENTHEUS: By night or day these sacred rites perform'st thou ?
BACCHUS: Mostly by nighty for venerable is darkness.
PENTHEUS: To women this is treacherous and unsafe.
BACCHUS: E'en in the broadest day may shame be found.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]PENTHEUS: Do you perform the rites by night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Mostly by night; darkness conveys awe.
PENTHEUS: This is treacherous towards women, and unsound.
DIONYSUS: Even during the day someone may devise what is shameful.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]PENTHEUS: Performest thou these rites by night or day?
DIONYSUS: Most part by night -- night hath more solemn awe.
PENTHEUS: A crafty rotten plot to catch our women.
DIONYSUS: Even in the day bad men can do bad deeds.
[tr. Milman (1865)]PENTHEUS: Dost thou perform thy rites by day; or night?
DIONYSUS: Chiefly by night; darkness gives dignity.
PENTHEUS: Craft rather and seduction it denotes.
DIONYSUS: Base acts are oft made manifest by day.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 462ff]PENTHEUS: Is it by night or day thou performest these devotions?
DIONYSUS: By night mostly; darkness lends solemnity.
PENTHEUS: Calculated to entrap and corrupt women.
DIONYSUS: Day too for that matter may discover shame.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]PENTHEUS: By night or day dost thou perform his rites?
DIONYSUS: Chiefly by night: gloom lends solemnity.
PENTHEUS: Ay -- and for women snares of lewdness too.
DIONYSUS: In the day too may lewdness be devised.
[tr. Way (1898)]PENTHEUS: How is thy worship held, by night or day?
DIONYSUS: Most oft by night; 'tis a majestic thing,
The darkness.
PENTHEUS: Ha! with women worshipping?
'Tis craft and rottenness!
DIONYSUS: By day no less,
Whoso will seek may find unholiness.
[tr. Murray (1902)]PENTHEUS: Do you celebrate your sacred acts at night or by day?
DIONYSUS: At night for the most party. Darkness possesses solemnity.
PENTHEUS: Darkness for women is deceitful and corrupt!
DIONYSUS: Even in daytime one could discover disgraceful behavior.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]PENTHEUS: Do you celebrate your mysteries by night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Chiefly by night. Darkness induces religious awe.
PENTHEUS: For women darkness is treacherous and impure.
DIONYSUS: Impurity can be practiced by daylight too.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]PENTHEUS: These sacred practices of your god, the worship,
The rites of great devotion, do they
Hold at night, or in the day.
DIONYSUS: [...] We hold our rites mostly at night
Because it is cooler. And the lamps
Lend atmosphere and feeling to the heart in worship.
[...]
PENTHEUS: And I say night hours are dangerous
Lascivious hours, lechery ....
DIONYSUS: You'll find debauchery in daylight, too.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]PENTHEUS: The rites -- at night or by day you perform them?
DIONYSUS: At night, mostly; there’s majesty in darkness.
PENTHEUS: And for women there’s trickery and smut.
DIONYSUS: Even by day one may discover shame.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]PENTHEUS: Do you perform your mysteries
during the day or by night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night.
The dark is more conducive to worship.
PENTHEUS: You mean to lechery and bringing out the filth in women.
DIONYSUS: Those who look for filth, can find it at the height of noon.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]PENTHEUS: Do you worship in daylight or at night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night. Darkness is most sacred.
PENTHEUS: That is treacherous and unwholesome for women.
DIONYSUS: Some find shame even in daylight.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]PENTHEUS: Do you celebrate these sacred rites at night or in the day?
THE STRANGER: At night mostly, since darkness induces devotion.
PENTHEUS: No, darkness is devious and corrupts women.
THE STRANGER: Even in the day someone could devise shameful deeds.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]PENTHEUS: You practice this cult by night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night. Darkness lends solemnity.
PENTHEUS: Darkness is just a filthy trap for women.
DIONYSUS: Some people can dig up dirt in daytime, too.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]PENTHEUS: Do you perform the rites by day? -- or night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night -- because the darkness has its holiness.
PENTHEUS: It's treacherous, for women, and corrupts them.
DIONYSUS: What's shameful can be found even by light of day.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 571ff]PENTHEUS: Do you practice your rites at night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Mostly at night: darkness lends solemnity.
PENTHEUS: This is an immoral trick aimed at women.
DIONYSUS: Someone could engage in shameful deeds even by day.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]PENTHEUS: And you perform these practices at night?
DIONYSUS: Man's true nature's seen in darkness not in light.
PENTHEUS: While darkness shrouds a woman's true duplicity.
DIONYSUS: Duplicity's not found in night exclusively.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]PENTHEUS: Tell me, when do you hold your worship? By clear day, or dark night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly by night -- it is a majestic time.
PENTHEUS: Indeed! A majestic time to take advantage of women. Shameful!
DIONYSUS: There are enough shameful things done by day. And enough shameful thoughts in your head, I am sure!
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]PENTHEUS: These ... holy orgies of yours… do you perform them during the day or in the night?
DIONYSUS: Most of them during the night. Darkness adds a certain modesty.
PENTHEUS: That’s quite a dubious thing for the women… and rather lecherous, I’d say.
DIONYSUS: Shame, of course can be seen during the day, too, if it exists and if one were to look for it.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]PENTHEUS: Do you conduct the mysteries in the night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Us'ally by night, for darkness holds reverence.
PENTHEUS: Is this thing deceitful or unwholesome towards women?
DIONYSUS: One might also uncover shameful things i' the day.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]PENTHEUS: When you dance these rites,
is it at night or during daylight hours?
DIONYSUS: Mainly at night. Shadows confer solemnity.
PENTHEUS: And deceive the women. It's all corrupt!
DIONYSUS: One can do shameful things in daylight, too.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 604ff]PENTHEUS: These mysteries. Do you practise them by day, or night?
DIONYSUS: Mostly by night. Dark is better for devotion.
PENTHEUS: Better for lechery and the taking of women.
DIONYSUS: That happens in daylight too.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]PENTHEUS: And are these rites conducted by day or by night?
DIONYSUS: Night, for the most part. It’s so much more ... spiritual. Good for devotion.
PENTHEUS: The night’s a trap for women’s virtue.
DIONYSUS: And the day isn’t? You don’t get out much, do you?
[tr. Pauly (2019)]PENTHEUS: Do you perform your rituals by day or night?
DIONYSUS: By night. We believe that darkness is holy.
PENTHEUS: It's a cunning time to force filth upon women.
DIONYSUS: Vice thrives in daylight, too.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]PENTHEUS: Do you perform the sacred rites [hiera] by night or by day?
DIONYSUS: Mostly by night; darkness conveys awe.
PENTHEUS: This is treacherous towards women, and unsound.
DIONYSUS: Even during the day you can find what is shameful.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
The wise man preserves a smooth-tempered self-control.
[πρὸς σοφοῦ γὰρ ἀνδρὸς ἀσκεῖν σώφρον᾽ εὐοργησίαν.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 641ff [Dionysus/Διόνυσος] (405 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1973)]
(Source)
An ironic statement from Dionysus, of how he will keep his calm and temper in the face of Pentheus' disrespectful fury. In very short order, Dionysus is (calmly) setting up Pentheus' self-destruction through the Bacchantes' frenzy.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For it behoves the wise
To curb the sallies of outrageous ire.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For it is the part of a wise man to practice restrained good temper.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]’Tis easy to a wise man To practise self-command.
[tr. Milman (1865)]For a wise man ever knoweth how to keep his passion down.
[tr. Rogers (1872)]For ’tis a wise man’s way to school his temper into due control.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]For it is the wise man's part to rein his wrath in soberness.
[tr. Way (1898)]For still are the ways of Wisdom, and her temper trembleth not!
[tr. Murray (1902)]Wise men know constraint: our passions are controlled.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]For it is the quality of a wise man to exercise restrained good temper.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]The secret of life is
Balance, tolerance.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]A wise man should practice pure thought and good temper.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]A wise man knows restraint. His strength is his detachment.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]For the wise know gentleness is wisdom.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]For it is the part of a wise man to employ a controlled and gentle temper.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]A wise man trains his temper to be good and calm.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Because a man
Who is wise has self-control and gentleness of temper.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]It is a wise man's part to practice gentleness and self-control.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]He who would be wise will keep his self-control.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]That is how wise people work, calmly.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]A wise man is able to hold his good-nature well tempered.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]After all, a wise man ought to keep his temper.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]He should learn from me the ways of self-control.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Keep calm and carry on, as the wisest say.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]The wise man has a reasonable temper.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]A sophos man must practice good temper that is moderate [sōphrōn].
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
Only by fleeing did we avoid
being torn to pieces by the Bacchae,
but they attacked our grazing calves and not with swords in their hands.
You could have seen one of them, apart from the others, mauling with both hands
a young heifer with swelling udders, bellowing all the while;
and other women were ripping apart mature cows, shredding them up.
You could have seen ribs or a cleft hoof
being tossed up and down. Hanging from the fir trees
the ribs and hooves dripped bloody gore.
Bulls previously aggressive and tossing their horns in rage
now tumbled to the ground, their bodies dragged down
by the myriad hands of young women.
Their garments of flesh were ripped off
faster than you could have winked your royal eyes.[ἡμεῖς μὲν οὖν φεύγοντες ἐξηλύξαμεν
βακχῶν σπαραγμόν, αἳ δὲ νεμομέναις χλόην
μόσχοις ἐπῆλθον χειρὸς ἀσιδήρου μέτα.
καὶ τὴν μὲν ἂν προσεῖδες εὔθηλον πόριν
μυκωμένην ἔχουσαν ἐν χεροῖν δίχα,
ἄλλαι δὲ δαμάλας διεφόρουν σπαράγμασιν.
εἶδες δ᾽ ἂν ἢ πλεύρ᾽ ἢ δίχηλον ἔμβασιν
ῥιπτόμεν᾽ ἄνω τε καὶ κάτω: κρεμαστὰ δὲ
ἔσταζ᾽ ὑπ᾽ ἐλάταις ἀναπεφυρμέν᾽ αἵματι.
ταῦροι δ᾽ ὑβρισταὶ κἀς κέρας θυμούμενοι
τὸ πρόσθεν ἐσφάλλοντο πρὸς γαῖαν δέμας,
μυριάσι χειρῶν ἀγόμενοι νεανίδων.
θᾶσσον δὲ διεφοροῦντο σαρκὸς ἐνδυτὰ
ἢ σὲ ξυνάψαι βλέφαρα βασιλείοις κόραις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 734ff [Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Esposito (1998)]
(Source)
Telling Pentheus of how the Bacchantes, led by his mother, Agave, slew a herd of cattle. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:By hasty flight
From these infuriate Bacchanalian dames
We scap'd; but they our grazing herds invaded,
Tho' in their hands no steely weapon gleam'd:
You might have seen one seize and firmly hold
A fatted heifer, others rent the limbs
Of steers asunder; ribs and cloven hoofs
Were toss'd around, from branching pine distill'd
Morsels of flesh and intermingled gore.
The raging bulls , who menac'd with their horns,
Were in a moment stretch'd upon the ground
Assail'd by many a blooming maid: the Daughters
Of royal Cadmus from the flesh tore off
The hides, ere you could close your eyes.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]We fled and escaped from being torn apart by the Bacchae, but they, with unarmed hands, sprang on the heifers browsing the grass. and you might see one rending asunder a fatted lowing calf, while others tore apart cows. You might see ribs or cloven hooves tossed here and there; caught in the trees they dripped, dabbled in gore. Bulls who before were fierce, and showed their fury with their horns, stumbled to the ground, dragged down by countless young hands. The garment of flesh was torn apart faster then you could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]We fled amain, or by the Bacchanals
We had been torn in pieces. They, with hands
Unarmed with iron, rushed on the browsing steers.
One ye might see a young and vigorous heifer
Hold, lowing in her grasp, like prize of war.
And some were tearing asunder the young calves;
And ye might see the ribs or cloven hoofs
Hurled wildly up and down, and mangled skins
Were hanging from the ash boughs, dropping blood.
The wanton bulls, proud of their tossing horns
Of yore, fell stumbling, staggering to the ground,
Dragged down by the strong hands of thousand maidens.
And swifter were the entrails torn away
Than drop the lids over your royal eyeballs.
[tr. Milman (1865)]In hurried flight we hardly could escape
The Bacchants' clutch. and then they wreaked their rage
Albeit unarmed, upon the browsing herds.
Here might one see the fatling heifer seized,
And lowing, torn to pieces in their hands,
While others rent the kids to fragments there.
There hurled about, the ribs and cloven hoofs
Lay scattered; others cast into the pines
The gory gobbets dripping down with blood.
The wanton bulls, striving in vain to butt,
Were thrust perforce and headlong on the ground,
Driven by the myriad force of girling hands.
More quickly they tore off the flesh than though
Could'st close thine eyelids on thy royal eyes.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 694ff]Thereat we fled, to escape being torn in pieces by the Bacchantes; but they, with hands that bore no weapon of steel, attacked our cattle as they browsed. Then wouldst thou have seen Agave mastering some sleek lowing calf, while others rent the heifers limb from limb. Before thy eyes there would have been hurling of ribs and hoofs this way and that; and strips of flesh, all blood-bedabbled, dripped as they hung from the pine-branches. Wild bulls, that glared but now with rage along their horns, found themselves tripped up, dragged down to earth by countless maidens’ hands. The flesh upon their limbs was stripped therefrom quicker than thou couldst have closed thy royal eye-lids.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]O then we fled, and fleeing scantly 'scaped
The Bacchanals' rending grasp. Down swooped they then
Upon our pasturing kine with swordless hand.
Then hadst thou seen thy mother in her grip
Clutch a deep-uddered heifer bellowing loud:
And others rent the calves in crimson shreds.
Ribs hadst thou seen and cloven hoofs far hurled
This way and that, and flakes of flesh that hung
And dripped all blood-bedabbled 'neath the pines.
Bulls, chafing, lowering fiercely along the horn
Erewhile, were tripped and hurled unto the earth,
Dragged down by countless-clutching maiden hands.
More swiftly was the flesh that lapped their bones
Stripped, than thou couldst have closed thy kingly eyes.
[tr. Way (1898)]Thereat, for fear they tear us, all we fled
Amazed; and on, with hand unweaponèd
They swept toward our herds that browsed the green
Hill grass. Great uddered kine then hadst thou seen
Bellowing in sword-like hands that cleave and tear,
A live steer riven asunder, and the air
Tossed with rent ribs or limbs of cloven tread,
And flesh upon the branches, and a red
Rain from the deep green pines. Yea, bulls of pride,
Horns swift to rage, were fronted and aside
Flung stumbling, by those multitudinous hands
Dragged pitilessly. And swifter were the bands
Of garbèd flesh and bone unbound withal
Than on thy royal eyes the lids may fall.
[tr. Murray (1902)]At this we fled
and barely missed being torn to pieces by the women.
Unarmed, they swooped down, upon the herds of cattle
grazing there on the green of the meadow. And then
you could have seen a single woman with bare hands
tear a fat calf, still bellowing with fright,
in two, while others clawed the heifers to pieces.
There were ribs and cloven hooves scattered everywhere,
and scraps smeared with blood hung from the fir trees.
And bulls, their raging fury gathered in their horns,
lowered their heads to charge, then fell, stumbling
to the earth, pulled down by hordes of women
and stripped of flesh and skin more quickly, sire,
than you could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]So we took to our heels and escaped
being torn to pieces by the bacchants; but they attacked the grazing
heifers, with hands that bore no steel.
And one you could have seen holding asunder in her hands
a tight-uddered, young, bellowing heifer;
while others were tearing full-grown cows to pieces.
You could have seen ribs, or a cloven hoof,
being hurled to and fro; and these hung
dripping under the fir trees, all mixed with blood.
Bulls that were arrogant before, with rage
in their horns, stumbled to the ground,
borne down by the countless hands of girls.
The garments of flesh were drawn apart more quickly
than you could close the lids over your royal eyes.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]So we fled, and escaped being torn in pieces by these possessed women. But our cattle were feeding there on the fresh grass; and the Bacchae attacked them, with their bare hands. You could see Agauë take up a bellowing young heifer with full udders, and hold it by the legs with her two arms stretched wide. Others were tearing our cows limb from limb, and you could see perhaps some ribs or a cleft hoof being tossed high and low; and pieces of bloody flesh hung dripping on the pine-branches. And bulls, which one moment were savagely looking along their horns, the next were thrown bodily to the ground, dragged down by the soft hands of girls -- thousands of them; and they stripped the flesh off their bodies faster than you could wink your royal eyes.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]We changed roles and became the hunted,
Fleeing for sweet life. Another moment and
We would have been shredded like chaff.
Balked of their prey, the Maenads turned upon our herd.
Unarmed, they swooped down on our heifers grazing
In the meadows, nothing in their hands, nothing.
Their bare arms sufficed. They rent young, stocky
Heifers in two - you should have heard their death bellows,
Seen these frail-built creatures wrench
Full-grown cattle limb from limb, ribs, hooves
Spiral into he air, fall in torrents of blood,
Seen our dismembered livestock hang from branches
Blood spattering the leaves, seen wild bulls
With surging horns, unapproachable till now
Tripped, sprawled, full-length on the ground
Bellow in unaccustomed terror as girlish limbs
Tore them apart, flayed them living.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]Well, we escaped, and managed to avoid
the bacchae’s mangling; but the cattle grazing
in the grass they set upon with their bare hands:
one could be seen to take a well-uddered heifer
and pull it apart mooing in her hands;
others carried off calves and mangled them;
you might have seen a rib or cloven hoof
hurled helter-skelter; things hung
and dripped beneath the firs, befouled with blood;
bulls, violent and raging in their horns
before, were stumbling their forms upon the earth,
driven by thousands of maidenly hands,
that swifter stripped the garment of their flesh
than you could close your lids on kingly eyes.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]At this we fled
and barely escaped being torn to pieces
by these God-struck maenads.
But our cattle --
our herds grazing on the grassy slopes -- oh!
They fell upon them with their naked hands.
You could see a woman sink her nails into a cow,
with its udders full, and left it, bellowing, high above her head.
Others dragged young heifers, ripping them apart.
Everywhere you looked,
ribs and cloven hooves
were flying through the air.
And from the pine branches
dangled lumps of flesh that dripped with blood. Majestic bulls
one minute aiming their horns with all their furious pride,
the next were stumbling to the ground,
overwhelmed by the swarming hands of girls,
their bones stripped clean of all their flesh,
faster than you could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Then we fled to escape being torn
To pieces by them. Barehanded,
They attacked cattle grazing grass.
You could see one woman drawing
Apart a heifer, fat and bellowing,
Others tore and mangled grown heifers.
You could see ribs or a cloven hoof
Thrown up and down and, suspended
From fir trees, drip defiled, with blood.
Arrogant bulls too, rage once filling
Their horns, were tripped bodily to the ground
Ravaged by hundreds of young hands,
And were stripped of their garment of flesh
Before you could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]So we were the ones who ran away, to escape
being torn apart by the Bacchae. And they attacked
our livestock as they were grazing on new grass.
No sharp weapons, but you'd have seen one woman
tear apart a young cow with her bare hands --
it was bellowing, its udder was swollen with milk. Others
ripped grown cows to pieces. You'd see ribs and feet
hurled every which way, hooves flying, pieces hanging
in the pine trees, smeared with blood and ripping.
Bulls in all their pride stumbled headlong:
They once had rage tossing on their long horns;
now more hands than you can count pull
them down -- young girls' hands. And strip off the flesh
that covered them, faster than a king could wink one eye.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]We ran away from them -- to escape being torn
Apart by the maenads. But with their bare hands,
Not with weapons of iron, then they began
To attack the grazing herds. You would have seen
One woman by herself with just her hands
Pulling in two a big young heifer that
Had swelling udders and was bellowing,
And meanwhile others were dismembering
The full-grown cattle, flaying them to shreds.
You would have seen the ribs and hooves hurled up,
Thrown down, flying through the air, and pieces
Hanging from the trees, still dripping blood.
Even arrogant bulls were stumbling, forced
To the ground, the anger in their horns outweighed
By the countless hands of girls -- their rags of flesh
Were torn from them much faster than you could
Have blinked your royal eyes.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 842ff]We ran away and thereby escaped being torn to pieces by the bacchants. But they, with n iron weapons in their hands, attacked some grazing cattle. You could have seen one of the women tearing asunder a bellowing fatted calf with her hands, while others tore heifers to pieces. You could have seen their flanks and cloven hooves hurled this way and that: pieces, drenched with blood, hung dripping from the fir trees. Bulls that till then were violent, with anger in their horns, were thrown to earth, dragged by countless female hands: their covering of flesh was torn in pieces faster than your majesty could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]We turned and ran for it, for we have heard
How the Bacchai, when their god is with them,
Will eat raw the flesh from still-living beasts.
We escaped but they found our grazing herds.
They slaughtered them with nothing but their hands.
One dragged a calf form its own mother's teat
And tore it, as it bellowed, clean in two,
While others pulled apart whole heifers.
The woods soon seemed a bloody abattoir.
Even one proud-horned bull was dragged to earth,
His flesh, by fingernails, scratched from his bones
And the scrag ends hurled high into the trees.
All done by the hands of girls and women,
And quicker than a wink from a royal eye.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]Then seeing we had run out of reach, they fell in fury upon our flocks, tearing the heifers apart with bear hands. Great, large beasts ripped into little shreds of blood and gristle faster than the lids can fall over your royal eyes.
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]We just managed to run away and escape the slaughter but they threw themselves, with no spear nor sword, at the calves that were quietly grazing nearby. One of those women tore a poor, tiny calf away from its mother’s udder and others ripped calves to bloody pieces with their bare hands and then they began eating them raw. My Lord, you could see bits of flesh strewn all around the place. Whole sides of animals, legs, other chunks of animal flesh hanging from the fir trees, dripping blood. Huge bulls, my Lord which only a few minutes earlier stood tall and proud, the sort that if one got them angry they’d tear everything apart with their massive horns, well, now they dropped their bodies to the ground and straightaway countless girls dragged them about with their bare hands and ... and by the time you blinked your royal eye, my Lord, they’d have the skin torn off those massive carcasses of them bulls.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]And so we ran away in fear and avoided being torn to
bits and eaten like deer by the bacchants; but they
attacked our cattle, barehanded, as they grazed
in the field, and you could see one grab and stretch
the legs of a young, pink-uddered calf, bellowing, as other
Maenads pulled and tore a full-grown heifer apart.
And you'd have seen ribs or cloven hooves thrown
up and down as they dripped, hanging from
fir tree branches, cover'd in blood.
The proud bulls, which moments before had been fully
ready to charge, dropped their body down to earth,
brought down by countless maidens' hands as they
stripped the poor beast's flesh right off like clothes
in the time it'd take you to blink your highness' eye.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]We ran off, and so escaped being torn apart. But then those Bacchic women, all unarmed, went at the heifers browsing on the turf, using their bear hands. You should have seen one ripping a fat, young, lowing calf apart -- others tearing cows in pieces with their hands. You could've seen ribs and cloven hooves tossed everywhere -- some hung up in branches dripping blood and gore. And bulls, proud beasts till then, with angry horns, collapsed there on the ground, dragged down by the hands of a thousand girls. Hides covering their bodies were stripped off faster than you could wink your royal eye.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]We fled.
They would have torn us to pieces, those Bacchae.
Instead, they turned -- bare-handed --
on our herd of grazing cattle.
A single woman pulled a mewling calf in two,
while others clawed apart a full-grown heifer.
There were spread ribs and broken hooves
flung everywhere,
and pieces of flesh hung
dripping from the trees.
Great bulls, their power and fury tightening in their horns,
lowered their heads to charge
but were wrestled to the ground
by countless female hands and flayed alive --
faster, sire, than a blink of your royal eyes.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]We ran. And just avoided a shredding by the Bacchae.
And since they couldn’t have us ...
They got the grazing cows instead. Attacked them with nothing but their hands.
You’d have seen them tearing a fat calf in two, screaming in their grasp. Look another way and there they were, rending pieces off a heifer.
You would have seen ribs and cloven hooves thrown all over the place, blood-drenched ribbons hanging from the trees, still dripping. Proud bulls, tossing their horns in defiant rage, were driven to the ground, torn down by more women’s hands than I could count. Their hides were ripped from the meat in the blink of an eye, even your kingly eyes.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]We fled and escaped being torn apart by the Bacchants, but they, unarmed, sprang on the heifers browsing the grass. You could have seen one rending asunder a fatted lowing calf, while others tore apart cows. You could have seen ribs or cloven hooves tossed all about; caught in the trees they dripped, dabbled in gore. Bulls who formerly with hubris showed their fury with their horns had their bodies cut to the ground, dragged down by the countless hands of young girls. The garment of flesh was torn apart faster then you could blink your royal eyes.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
He’s the one who gives us wine to ease our pain.
If you take wine away, love will die, and
every other source of human joy will follow.[τὴν παυσίλυπον ἄμπελον δοῦναι βροτοῖς.
οἴνου δὲ μηκέτ᾽ ὄντος οὐκ ἔστιν Κύπρις
οὐδ᾽ ἄλλο τερπνὸν οὐδὲν ἀνθρώποις ἔτι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 772ff [First Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Woodruff (1999)]
(Source)
Speaking of Dionysus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:He, the grape, that med'cine for our cares,
Bestow'd on favour'd mortals. Take away
The sparkling Wine, fair Venus smiles no more
And every pleasure quits the human race.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]He gives to mortals the vine that puts an end to grief. Without wine there is no longer Aphrodite or any other pleasant thing for men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]He hath given the sorrow-soothing vine to man
For where wine is not love will never be,
Nor any other joy of human life.
[tr. Milman (1865)]He gives the soothing vine
Which stills the sorrow of the human heart;
Where wine is absent, love can never be;
Where wine is absent, other joys are gone.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 732ff]’Twas he that gave the vine to man, sorrow’s antidote. Take wine away and Cypris flies, and every other human joy is dead.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]He gave men the grief-assuaging vine.
When wine is no more found, then Love is not,
Nor any joy beside is left to men.
[tr. Way (1898)]This is he who first to man did give
The grief-assuaging vine. Oh, let him live;
For if he die, then Love herself is slain,
And nothing joyous in the world again!
[tr. Murray (1902)]It was he,
or so they say, who gave to mortal men
the gift of lovely wine by which our suffering
is stopped. And if there is no god of wine,
there is no love, no Aphrodite either,
nor other pleasures left to men.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]They say that he
has given to men the vine that ends pain.
If wine were no more, then Cypris is no more
nor anything else delighted for mankind.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]It was he who gave men the gift of the vine as a cure for sorrow. And if there were no more wine, why, there's an end of love, and of every other pleasure in life.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Didn't he make us
Mortal men the gift of wine? If that is true
You have much to thank him for -- wine makes
Our labors bearable. Take wine away
And the world is without joy, tolerance, or love.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]The sorrow-ceasing vine he gives to mortals.
Without wine there is no Aphrodite,
nor longer any other delight for men.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]It was he,
so they say, who gave to us, poor mortals, the gift of wine,
that numbs all sorrows.
If wine should ever cease to be,
then so will love.
No pleasures left for men.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]He himself, I hear them say,
Gave the pain-killing vine to men.
When wine is no more, neither is love.
Nor any other pleasure for mankind.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]He gave to mortals the vine that stops pain.
If there were no more wine, then there is no more Aphrodite
nor any other pleasure for mankind.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]It's he who gave
To mortals the vine that stops all suffering.
Adn if wine were to exist no longer, then
Neither would the goddess Aphrodite,
Nor anything of pleasure for us mortals.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 885ff]He gave to mortals the vine that puts an end to pain. If there is no wine, there is no Aphrodite or any other pleasure for mortals.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Besides, he's given us the gift of wine,
Without which man desires nor endures not.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]He’s the god who brought the wine to the mortals. Great stuff that. It stops all sadness. Truth is, my Lord, when the wine is missing so does love and then… well, then there’s nothing sweet left for us mortals.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]He is the one who gave us the vine that gives
pause from pain; and if there is no wine, there'll be no more
Aphrodite, & there is no other gift to give such pleasure to us mortals.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]He gives to mortal human beings that vine which puts an end to human grief. Without wine, there's no more Aphrodite -- or any other pleasure left for men.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]He is great in so many ways -- not least, I hear say,
for his gift of wine to mortal men.
Wine, which puts an end to sorrow and to pain.
And if there is no wine, there is no Aphrodite,
And without her no pleasure left at all.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]When wine is gone, there is no more Cypris,
nor anything else to delight a mortal heart.
[tr. @sentantiq/Robinson (2015)]He gave mortals the pain-pausing vine.
When there is no wine, Cypris is absent,
And human beings have no other pleasure.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]I’ve heard he gave the grapevine to us mortals, as an end to pain.
And without wine, we’ve got no chance with Aphrodite. Or anything else good, for that matter.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]He even gives to mortals the grape that brings relief from cares. Without wine there is no longer Kypris or any other delightful thing for humans.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]He gave mortals the pain-relieving vine.
But when there is no more wine, there is no Aphrodite
Nor any other pleasure left for human beings.
[tr. @sentantiq (2021)]
He shall come to know
Dionysus, son of Zeus, consummate god,
most terrible, and yet most gentle, to mankind.[γνώσεται δὲ τὸν Διὸς
Διόνυσον, ὃς πέφυκεν ἐν τέλει θεός,
δεινότατος, ἀνθρώποισι δ᾽ ἠπιώτατος.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 859ff [Dionysus/Διόνυσος] (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
Speaking of King Pentheus. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Thus he shall know dread Bacchus, son of Jove,
A god most terrible when he asserts
His slighted power: but gracious to mankind.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]He will recognize the son of Zeus, Dionysus, who is in fact a god, the most terrible and yet most mild to men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Know he must
Dionysus, son of Jove, among the gods
Mightiest, yet mildest to the sons of men.
[tr. Milman (1865)]There belike to tell
That Dionysus, son to Zeus, is god,
Most terrible, most gracious unto men.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 820ff]So shall he recognize Dionysus, the son of Zeus, who proves himself at last a god most terrible, for all his gentleness to man.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]And he shall know Zeus' son
Dionysus, who hath risen at last a God
Most terrible, yet kindest unto men.
[tr. Way (1898)]So shall he learn and mark
God's true Son, Dionyse, in fulness God,
Most fearful, yet to man most soft of mood.
[tr. Murray (1902)]And he shall recognize the son of Zeus,
Dionysus, as a god in perfect essence:
a terrible one, but to men most gentle.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]And he shall know the son of Zeus, Dionysus; who, those most gentle to mankind, can prove a god of terror irresistible.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Consummate god, most terrible, most gentle
To mankind.
[tr. Soyinka (1973), Bacchante speaking]He shall know Zeus’ son
Dionysos, that he is in his fullness a god
most dreadful, and to men most mild.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]So shall Pentheus come to know Dionysus, son of Zeus,
a God sprung from nature, like nature most cruel,
and, yet, most gentle to mankind.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]And he'll know
Zeus-born Dionysos is a true divinity,
Most terrifying to men, and most kind.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]He will come to know Dionysus, the son of Zeus,
that he is, in the ritual of initiation, a god most terrifying,
but for mankind a god most gentle.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Then he will know the son of Zeus,
Dionysus, and realize that he was born a god, bringing
terrors for initiation, and to the people, gentle grace.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]And he will know that Dionysos, son
Of Zeus, was born a god in full, and is
Most terrible to mortals and most gentle.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]He will learn that Dionysus is in the full sense a god, a god most dreadful to morals -- but also most gentle!
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]He'll learn the nature of this son of Zeus:
The sweetest and most fearsome of the gods.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]Only then will he learn that the son of Zeus, Dionysos, is a god of peace for the good folk but he is also a fearsome god who those who don’t respect him.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]He will recognize Zeus' son Dionysus, born in ritual,
The most terrible god -- and kindest to humans.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]He'll come to acknowledge
Dionysus, son of Zeus, born in full divinity,
most fearful, yet most kind to human beings.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]And he shall finally know Dionysus, son of Zeus,
a god both terrible and gentle to the world of man.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]He will know Dionysus. He will know the son of Zeus to be true-god-born, to be the greatest horror to mortal kind.
And the greatest helper.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]He shall learn that Dionysus is the son of Zeuis, a god with the power of a god, a god most fearful and most gentle.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]And he will come to know the son of Zeus,
Dionysus, the one who is by his own nature a god in the end [telos],
the one who is most terrifying [deinos], but, for humans, also most gentle [ēpios ].
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
What prayer should we call wise?
What gift of Heaven should man
Count a more noble prize,
A prayer more prudent, than
To stretch a conquering arm
Over the fallen crest
Of those who wished us harm?
And what is noble every heart loves best.[τί τὸ σοφόν; ἢ τί τὸ κάλλιον
παρὰ θεῶν γέρας ἐν βροτοῖς
ἢ χεῖρ᾽ ὑπὲρ κορυφᾶς
880τῶν ἐχθρῶν κρείσσω κατέχειν;
ὅ τι καλὸν φίλον ἀεί.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 877ff, Stasimon 3 (Ode 4), Refrain [Chorus/Χορός] (405 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1973)]
(Source)
While the passage seems to praise the putting down of one's enemies as the greatest gift of the gods, some modern scholars suggest the final line raises doubts or disagrees with that conclusion.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:What greater privilege 'midst the fell debate
Can sage or chieftain from the Gods request
Than that of ever fast'ning on the crest
Of the miscreant whom we hate?
Pleasure with unsullied fame
Ever must alliance claim.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]What is wisdom? Or what greater honor do the gods give to mortals than to hold one's hand in strength over the head of enemies? What is good is always dear.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]What is wisest? what is fairest,
Of god's boons to man the rarest?
With the conscious conquering hand
Above the foeman's head to stand.
What is fairest still is dearest.
[tr. Milman (1865)]What wiser and what nobler gift
Can the good gods bestow on man,
Than when his hands they strengthen, till
He conquers o’er his foeman’s head:
That which is noble, ever is dear.
[tr. Rogers (1872)]What is true wisdom, or what fairer boon has heaven placed in mortals’ reach, than to gain the mastery o’er a fallen foe? What is fair is dear for aye.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]What wisdom's crown, what guerdon, shines more glorious
That Gods can give the sons of men, than this --
O'er crests of foes to stretch the hand victorious?
Honour is precious evermore, I wis.
[tr. Way (1898)]What else is Wisdom? What of man's endeavour
Or God's high grace, so lovely and so great?
To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?
[tr. Murray (1902)]What is wisdom? What gift of the gods
is held in honor like this:
to hold your hand victorious
over the heads of those you hate?
Honor is precious forever.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]What is wisdom? Or what fairer
gift from the gods in men's eyes
than to hold the hand of power
over the head of one's enemies?
And "what is fair is always followed."
[tr. Kirk (1970)]What is wisdom, ah! what fairer thing
to mortal men can the gods bestow
than holding high overhead
a firmer first over the foe?
The fair is dear, and forever.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]What is wisdom? Which
of all the God-given gifts
is more beneficial to man
than the power to hold
an enemy powerless at bay?
That which is good is welcome forever.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]What is wisdom? Or what lovelier gift
From the gods, in moral eyes
Than to hold a stronger hand
Over enemy heads:
Honor is dear -- always.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]What good is mere cleverness?
Or rather, what god-given gifts
bring more honor to mortals
than to hold the hand of mastery
over the head of the enemy?
Whatever is honorable is dear always.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]What is wise? What is the finest gift
that gods can give to mortals?
A hand on the heads
of their enemies, pushing down?
[No.] What is fine is loved always.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]What is wise? What fit from the gods
Do mortals judge more beautiful
Than to hold our outstretched
Strong hand over an enemy's head?
What is beautiful is what is always loved.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]What good is cleverness? Is there any god-given privilege
nobler than the sight of men
than to hold one's hand in triumph
over the heads of foes?
What is noble is always loved.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]What is true wisdom?
What is beauty?
What could be better
Than in your hand to hold
Your enemy's fate?
Beauty is always truth;
And truth beauty.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]What better, what wiser gift a god could give to men than to hold their hand high above their head as a sign of victory over their enemy?
I always admire the good.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]What is it to be wise? And what gift of the
Immortals is more gracious in humans?
Is it holding your hand over
Your enemies’ head?
What's right is always welcome.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]What is wisdom? What is finer than the rights
men get from gods -- to hold their powerful hands
over the heads of their enemies?
Ah yes, what's good is always loved.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1079ff]What is wisdom?
The greatest gift of the gods is honour:
to reach your hand in triumph up
over the heads of the enemy.
Honour is everything.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]What is wisdom? Here, now?
What is the highest blessing of gods to mortals?
It is to stretch out your hand
over the head of the one you hate,
the one that hates you,
and know your strength is greater.
Doesn’t that always feel good?
[tr. Pauly (2019)]What wisdom should guide us? What gift of the gods do people prize more than a strong hand to hold over an enemy's head? Honor is always loved.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]What is wisdom [sophon]? Or what finer prize
do the gods give to mortals than to hold one’s hand
in victory over the head of one’s enemies?
Whatever is beautiful [kalon] is near and dear [philon] forever.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
It is slow to stir, but nonetheless
it never fails, the strength
of gods.[ὁρμᾶται μόλις, ἀλλ᾽ ὅμως
πιστόν τι τὸ θεῖον
σθένος]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 882ff (Stasimon 3 (Ode 4), Antistrophe 1) [Chorus/Χορός] (405 BC) [tr. Kirk (1970)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:The tardy God arrives at length
His steadfast promise to fulfil,
Exulting in immortal strength.
Tremble, ye ministers of ill!
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Divine strength is roused with difficulty, but still is sure.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Slow come, but come at length,
In their majestic strength
Faithful and true, the avenging deities.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Although he slowly shews his might,
God ever steadfast is and sure.
[tr. Rogers (1872), ll. 844-45]Though slow be its advance, yet surely moves the power of the gods.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Slowly on-sweepeth, but unerringly,
The might of Heaven.
[tr. Way (1898)]O Strength of God, slow art thou and still,
Yet failest never!
[tr. Murray (1902)]Slow but unmistakable
the might of the gods moves on.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]Slow, yet unfailing, move the Powers
of heaven with the moving hours
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Scarcely speeding, but all the same
the strength of the gods is certain.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Slowly but implacably,
divine power moves.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Scarcely it has started,
Yet still god's might is trust-
Worthy.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]It starts out slowly
but still the strength of the gods
is trustworthy.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Never hurried, never
failing, a god's
fist.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]The unremitting power
Of the divine begins only
Slowly to move, but
Always moves.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]Slowly does heaven move, but still
its strength is [something] sure.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Slow but unerring move the gods
Against the heedless man.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]God’s justice might be late arriving but it does arrive.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Th'heavens might is scarcely set in
Motion, but it is not to be
doubted, a beacon to humans.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]The power of the gods is difficult to stir -- but it's a power we can count on.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]The might of heaven moves slowly, inexorably.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]The strength of a god is not roused without need,
But when it is roused, it comes down.
Implacably.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Slowly they begin, but always the powers of heaven punish ....
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Divine strength is roused with difficulty, but is trustworthy nevertheless.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]Slow but sure moves the might of the gods.
[Bartlett's]
Blest is the man who cheats the stormy sea
And safely moors beside the sheltering quay;
So, blest is he who triumphs over trial.
One man, by various means, in wealth or strength
Outdoes his neighbour; hope in a thousand hearts
Colours a thousand different dreams; at length
Some find a dear fulfilment, some denial.
But this I say,
That he who best
Enjoys each passing day
Is truly blest.[εὐδαίμων μὲν ὃς ἐκ θαλάσσας
ἔφυγε χεῖμα, λιμένα δ᾽ ἔκιχεν:
εὐδαίμων δ᾽ ὃς ὕπερθε μόχθων
ἐγένεθ᾽: ἑτέρᾳ δ᾽ ἕτερος ἕτερον
ὄλβῳ καὶ δυνάμει παρῆλθεν.
μυρίαι δ᾽ ἔτι μυρίοις
εἰσὶν ἐλπίδες: αἳ μὲν
τελευτῶσιν ἐν ὄλβῳ
βροτοῖς, αἳ δ᾽ ἀπέβησαν:
τὸ δὲ κατ᾽ ἦμαρ ὅτῳ βίοτος
εὐδαίμων, μακαρίζω.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 902ff (Stasimon 3, Epode) [Chorus/Χορός] (405 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1973)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Blest is the man who 'scapes the stormy wave.
And in the harbour finds repose:
He too is blest, 'midst dangers brave,
Who soars above the malice of his foes:
And now these, now those possess
Superior talents or success;
Distinct their aims; but hope each bosom fires.
There are, a rich encrease who find,
The vows of some are scatter'd in the wind:
But in my judgement blest are they
Who taste, tho' only for the day.
The joys their soul desires.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Happy is he who has fled a storm on the sea, and reached harbor. Happy too is he who has overcome his hardships. One surpass another in different ways, in wealth or power. There are innumerable hopes to innumerable men, and some result in wealth to mortals, while others fail. But I call him blessed whose life is happy day today.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Who hath 'scaped the turbulent sea,
And reached the haven, happy he!
Happy he whose toils are o'er
In the race of wealth and power!
This one her, and that one there,
Passes by, and everywhere
Still expectant thousands over
Thousands hopes are seen to hover,
Some to mortals end in bliss;
Some have already fled away:
Happiness alone is his
That happy is to-day.
[tr. Milman (1865)]Happy he, who from the storm,
Has the breaker escaped, and the harbour has reached;
Happy he who after toil
Is the victor, for many the ways in which man
Wins him power, and wins him wealth.
Thousand-fold ever to thousands of men,
Hope follows upon hope,
With some it grows unceasingly,
With some it wastes to nothingness.
But he whose life is ever fresh,
Lives in unbroken happiness.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 865ff.]Happy is he who hath escaped the wave from out the sea, and reached the haven; and happy he who hath triumphed o’er his troubles; though one surpasses another in wealth and power; yet there be myriad hopes for all the myriad minds; some end in happiness for man, and others come to naught; but him, whose life from day to day is blest, I deem a happy man.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Blest who from ravening seas
Hath 'scaped to haven-peace,
Blest who hath triumphed in endeavour's toil and throe.
This man to higher height
Attains, of wealth, of might,
Than that; yet myriad hopes in myriad hearts still glow:
To fair fruition brought
Are some, some come to nought:
Happy is he whose bliss from day to day doth grow.
[tr. Way (1898)]Happy he, on the weary sea
Who hath fled the tempest and won the haven.
Happy whoso hath risen, free,
Above his striving. For strangely graven
Is the orb of life, that one and another
In gold and power may outpass his brother.
And men in their millions float and flow
And seethe with a million hopes as leaven;
And they win their Will, or they miss their Will,
And the hopes are dead or are pined for still;
But whoe'er can know,
As the long days go,
That To Live is happy, hath found his Heaven!
[tr. Murray (1902)]-- Blessèd is he who escapes the storm at sea,
who comes home to his harbor.
-- Blessèd is he who emerges from under affliction.
-- In various ways one man outraces another in the race for wealth and power.
-- Ten thousand men possess ten thousand hopes.
-- A few bear fruit in happiness; the others go awry.
-- But he who garners day by day the good of life, he is happiest. Blessèd is he.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]Happy the man who from the sea
escapes the storm and finds harbor;
happy he who has surmounted
toils; and in different ways one surpasses another
in prosperity and power.
Besides this, for countless men there are countless
hopes -- some of them
reach to the end in prosperity
for mortals, and others depart;
but him whose life day by day
is happy do I count blessed.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]Happy he from the sea escaping
out of the storm, arriving at anchorage;
happy he fleeing labour's straining;
in many manners may men surpass other men
in prosperity and in power.
Thousand-fold upon thousand-fold
hopes come crowding upon us,
and some finally prosper
for mortals, some are vanish'd:
who day by day has a livelihood of happiness, he is blessed
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Happy the man who withstands
life's assaults.
Somehow, in some way, some man surpasses some other
in position and fortune.
For millions of men there are millions of hopes.
For some, these ripen into happiness,
for others into nothing.
Count lucky the man who is happy on this one day.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]That man is blessed who fled the storm
At sea and reached the bay.
And he is blessed who rose above
His toil. In various ways
One man outstrips in wealth and power
Another: countless men
Have countless hopes: some end in joy,
But others drift way.
The man who day to day has luck
In life -- that man I bless.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Happy the man who escapes
the storm at sea and reaches harbor.
Happy, too, is he who overcomes
his toils. And in different ways one man
surpasses another in prosperity and power.
Besides, countless are the hopes
of countless men, Some of those hopes
end in prosperity for mortals, others vanish.
But I count him blessed whose life,
from day to day, is happy.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Happy the man who has come away
safe on the beach from a storm at sea,
happy the man who has risen above
trouble and toil. Many are the ways
one man may surpass another
in wealth or power,
and beyond each hope there beckons another
hope without number.
Hope may lead a man to wealth,
hope may pass away;
but I admire a man when he
is happy in an ordinary life.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Happy is he who escapes
A storm at sea and finds safe harbor.
Happy is he who has risen above
Great toils. In different ways,
Some persons outdo others
In their wealth and power.
And hopes are as many as those who hope --
Some will end in rich reward, others in nothing.
But those whose lives are happy
Day by day -- those
I call the blesséd.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]Blessed is he that out of the sea
escapes the storm and wins the harbor;
blessed he who triumphs over
trouble: one man surpasses another
in respect to wealth or power.
Furthermore, in countless hearts
there live countless hopes, some
ending in good fortune,
though some vanish away.
But the man whose life today is happy,
him I count blessed.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Joy of the storm endured,
And the harbour safely reached.
Joy of hardship overcome.
Joy of striving for wealth and power.
Joy of hope. Joy of dreams,
Fulfilled or unfulfilled.
And most blessed they who takes their joy
In the simple detail of the day by day --
[tr. Teevan (2002)]Happy is the man who has escaped the storms of life’s angry seas and found a harbour; and happy is the man who have endured those storms.
Men are infinite in number and their hopes have no end and some of these hopes bring joy to some and nothing to others.
I say blessed is the man whose life has been happy -- so far.
These are useful pieces of advice. True wisdom.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Blessed is the one who's fled the
Storm at sea and come to harbour;
And happy is he who rises above
Hardships; for one may sur-
Pass another in wealth or in power,
But these are a lot hopes to a lot of
Different people; and many end in
Happiness while others fail mis’rably
But the one who's happy day-to-day,
Is the one who's truly blessed.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]Whoever has escaped a storm at sea
is a happy man in harbour,
whoever overcomes great hardship
is likewise another happy man.
Various men outdo each other
in wealth, in power,
in all sorts of ways.
The hopes of countless men
are infinite in number.
Some make men rich;
some come to nothing,
So I consider that man blessed
who lives a happy life
existing day by day.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1106ff]Lucky is the man who escapes a storm at sea
and finds his way home to safe harbour --
the man delivered from hardship.
We all compete for wealth and power,
and for every thousand hearts a thousand hopes.
Some wither, some bear fruit.
But the one who lives from day to day,
finding good where he can:
he is happy --
he is a lucky man.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Fortunate is the one who flees
The swell of the sea and returns to harbor.
Fortunate is the one who survives through troubles.
One is greater than another in different things,
He surpasses in fortune and power --
But in numberless hearts still
Are numberless hopes: some result
In good fortune, but other mortal dreams
Just disappear.
Whoever has a happy life to-day,
I consider fortunate.
[tr. @sentantiq (2018)]Happy is the one who escapes a sea-storm
and comes home to the harbor.
And happy is the one who stands against their hardships.
Happy are they who endure.
One man may exceed another, in his own way.
In wealth.
In power.
Countless hopes for yet-more-countless people.
Sometimes hope wins out, gives us riches --
And sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes we fail.
But the one who can live in spite of this,
who is happy day to day.
That one is blessed.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Blessed is the one who finds a harbour safe from the winter sea. Blessed is the one who travels beyond affliction. Blessed is the one who wins great joy. Numberless more have their dreams. Some hopes are fulfilled, some vanish. Whoever lives happily from day to day I bless.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Fortunate [eudaimōn] is he who has fled a storm on the sea and reached harbor. Eudaimōn too is he who has overcome his toils. Different people surpass others in various ways, be it in wealth [olbos] or in power. Mortals have innumerable hopes, and some come to telos in prosperity [olbos], while others fail. I deem him blessed whose life is eudaimōn day by day.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
His mother was the high priestess. It was her right to go first. To begin the killing, and so she threw herself at him.
He tore the headband from his head so that she would recognize him — oh, poor Agave — to stop her from killing him.
He touched her face and said:
It’s me, mother.
It’s me. Your son, it’s Pentheus.
You had me in Echion’s house.
Mercy, mother, please. I know I messed up, please, please don’t kill me, don’t kill your son —[πρώτη δὲ μήτηρ ἦρξεν ἱερέα φόνου
καὶ προσπίτνει νιν: ὃ δὲ μίτραν κόμης ἄπο
ἔρριψεν, ὥς νιν γνωρίσασα μὴ κτάνοι
τλήμων Ἀγαύη, καὶ λέγει, παρηίδος
ψαύων: Ἐγώ τοι, μῆτερ, εἰμί, παῖς σέθεν
Πενθεύς, ὃν ἔτεκες ἐν δόμοις Ἐχίονος:
οἴκτιρε δ᾽ ὦ μῆτέρ με, μηδὲ ταῖς ἐμαῖς
ἁμαρτίαισι παῖδα σὸν κατακτάνῃς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 1114ff [Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Pauly (2019)]
(Source)
Pentheus' servant, describing how the Bacchantes, led by King Pentheus' mother, Agave, turned on the king after discovering him, disguised, watching them.(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:His wretched Mother, like a Priestess,
Began the sacrifice; he threw the cawl
From his dishevel'd hair, that she her Son
Might recognise, nor in his gore imbrue
Her ruthless hands: he touch'd her cheeks and cried;
"I am, I am, O Mother, your own Son,
That Pentheus whom beneath Echion's roof
You bore, take pity on me then, nor slay
Your guilty child."
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]His mother, as priestess, began the slaughter, and fell upon him. He threw the headband from his head so that the wretched Agave might recognize and not kill him. Touching her cheek, he said: “It is I, mother, your son, Pentheus, whom you bore in the house of Echion. Pity me, mother, and do not kill me, your child, for my sins.”
[tr. Buckley (1850)]His mother first began the sacrifice,
And fell on him. His bonnet from his hair
He threw, that she might know and so not slay him,
The sad Agave. And he said, her cheek
Fondling, "I am thy child, thine own, my mother!
Pentheus, whom in Echion's house you bare.
Have mercy on me, mother! For his sins,
Whatever be his sins, kill not thy son."
[tr. Milman (1865)]His mother first essayed the sacrifice
And fell on him: then from his hair he tore
The Phrygian bonnet, that Agave might
Know him and slay him not. Fondling her cheek
He said, I, mother, look, I am thy child,
Pentheus, born from thee in Echion's house;
Alas! my mother, do not kill thy son
For his transgression, pity take on me.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 1070ff]His mother first, a priestess for the nonce, began the bloody deed and fell upon him; whereon he tore the snood from off his hair, that hapless Agave might recognize and spare him, crying as he touched her cheek, “O mother! it is I, thy own son Pentheus, the child thou didst bear in Echion’s halls; have pity on me, mother dear! oh! do not for any sin of mine slay thy own son.”
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]His mother first, priest-like, began the slaughter,
And fell on him: but from his hair the coif
He tore, that she might know and slay him not, --
Hapless Agavê! -- and he touched her cheek,
Crying, "'Tis I -- O mother! -- thine own son
Pentheus -- thou bar'st me in Echion's halls!
Have mercy, O my mother! -- for my sin
Murder not thou thy son -- thy very son!"
[tr. Way (1898)]'Twas his mother stood
O'er him, first priestess of those rites of blood.
He tore the coif, and from his head away
Flung it, that she might know him, and not slay
To her own misery. He touched the wild
Cheek, crying: "Mother, it is I, thy child,
Thy Pentheus, born thee in Echion's hall!
Have mercy, Mother! Let it not befall
Through sin of mine, that thou shouldst slay thy son!"
[tr. Murray (1902)]His own mother,
like a priestess with her victim, fell upon him
first. But snatching off his wig and snood
so she would recognize his face, he touched her cheeks,
screaming, "No, no, Mother! I am Pentheus,
your own son, the child you bore to Echion!
Pity me, spare me, Mother! I have done a wrong,
but do not kill your own son for my offense."
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]First his mother started the slaughter as priestess
and falls upon him; he hurled away the snood
from his hair, for the wretched Agaue to recognize
and not kill him -- and says, touching
her cheek, “Look, it is I, mother, your child
Pentheus, whom you bore in the house of Echion!
Take pity on me, mother, and do not by reason of my
errors murder your own child!”
[tr. Kirk (1970)]First his mother, as priestess, began the ritual of death, and fell upon him. He tore off the headband from his hair, that his wretched mother might recognize him and not kill him. "Mother!" he cried, touching her cheek, "it is I, your son, Pentheus, whom you bore to Echion. O mother, have mercy on me; I have sinned, but I am your son: do not kill me!"
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]His mother
First at the sacrifice of her own son
Fell upon him, angry priestess at the rites of death.
Pentheus, still miraculously alive, tore off wig
And snood, touched her face and hoped for recognition.
He mouthed a last despairing plea in silence, his voice
Broken from the fall.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]First came his mother, high priestess of the murder,
and fell upon him, while he threw the ribbon
from his hair so she might recognize him and not kill him,
poor Agave, touching her cheek and saying:
It’s me, mother, me, your son
Pentheus, whom you gave birth to in Echion’s house;
take pity on me, mother, and for my
trespassing do not kill your own son.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]His mother,
as priestess of the ritual killing,
was first to fall upon him.
He stripped his head, tore everything away,
hoping that Agave, wretched woman,
would know him and not kill him.
He touched her cheeks and cried:
"No, Mother, no, it is I,
your child, your Pentheus, born to you in Echion's house!
Have pity on me, Mother, I have wronged
but do not kill your son for my offense, not me, your son!"
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]First Agaue, priestess of the kill, began
And fell upon him. He stripped his mitre
From his head, so poor Agaue would know
And not kill him, and said touching
Her cheek, “It’s me, mother, your child
Pentheus, whom you bore in Echion’s house.
Pity me, mother, don’t murder
Me, your son, for my sins!”
[tr. Blessington (1993)]It was his own mother who first, as sacred priestess, began the slaughter
and falls upon him. He threw the headband from his hair
hoping that the wretched Agae, recognizing her son, might not kill him.
Touching her cheek, he spoke:
"It is I, mother, your son
Pentheus to whom you gave birth in the house of Echion.
Take pity, mother, and do not,
Because of my errors, kill your son."
[tr. Esposito (1998)]His mother was the first at the killing. She was priestess,
and she rushed to attack him. He tore off his headband
in hopes she would recognize him, not kill him.
He reached out to her cheek, miserable Agavê’s,
and said, “I am yours, Mother, your child Pentheus.
You gave me birth in the house of Echion.
Pity me, Mother. I have made mistakes.
But do not kill your own son because of them.”
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]As priestess, to begin the slaughter. She
Falls on him and he tears the headband from
His hair so that wretched Agaué will
Recognize him, not kill him, and he touches
Her cheek as he begins to say to her,
“Mother, it’s Pentheus, your child! It’s me!
You gave birth to me in Ekhion’s house.
Have pity on me, Mother! Don’t kill me
For my wrongdoing!”
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 1262ff]His mother was the priestess and began the killing, hurling herself upon him. He, however, wrenched the headdress from his hair so that poor Agave would recognize him and not kill him. He put his hand to her cheek and said, "It's me, mother, Pentheus, the son you bore in Echion's house! Have pity on me, mother! I have sinned, but do not kill your own son!"
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]His mother was the first to fall on him,
Frantically, from his face, he pulled his shawl
So that she might recognize him,
He touched her cheek, he implored her,
"It is me, mother, your son, Pentheus,
Pentheus whom you bore to Echion.
Have mercy, mother, do not kill me,
For all that I've done wrong, I'm still your son."
[tr. Teevan (2002)]The first to fall on him was his own mother! [...] Pentheus pulled his robe aside so that she could see his face, and cried, "Mother! It is I, your Pentheus, born from your own womb! Have mercy, mother. Let it not come to pass that my sins cause you to slay your son!"
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]First it was his mother, Dionysos’ priestess. She started the slaughter. She jumped upon him with anger and he took the ribbon from his head so that his mother would recognize him and spare him and patted her cheek softly. “It’s me, mother,” he said, “your son, Pentheus. You gave birth to me, mother, in Echion’s palace! Have pity on me, mother! Don’t kill me, don’t kill your son just because he’s made a mistake.”
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]His own mother presided as priestess of the
slaughter and started first by falling upon him; and he threw his
sash from off of his hair so that poor, wretched Agave might
recognize, instead of kill, him.
And he says to her, reaching out for her cheek, "It's me mother, your son
Pentheus, who you bore to Echion.
Have mercy on me mother please: don't kill your own son
because of his mistakes."
[tr. Valerie (2005)]She hurled herself at him. Pentheus tore off
his headband, untying it from his head,
so wretched Agave would recognize him,
so she wouldn't kill him. Touching he cheek,
he cried out, "It's me, mother, Pentheus,
your child. You gave birth to me at home,
in Echion's house. Pity me, mother --
Don't kill your child because I've made mistakes."
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1383ff]His own mother,
like a priestess with her sacrifice, fell on him first.
But he snatched off his head-dress and wig
so she could see who he was.
He reached out his hand to touch her cheek
And cried out: "Mother! Mother! Look!
It's me, Pentheus, your own son!
The son you bore to Echion!
Spare me, Mother, I beg you!
I have done wrong, perhaps,
but you cannot kill your son!"
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Like a priestess at the sacrificial altar, his mother began the slaughter. Poor Agave. He loosened the band from his hair that she might know him. He touched her cheek, saying, "I am your son, Pentheus, whom you bore in Echion's house -- have pity on me, mother, though I have sinned. Do not kill your son."
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]His own mother, as priestess, began the slaughter, and fell upon him. He threw the miter from his head so that wretched Agaue might recognize and not kill him. Touching her cheek, he said: “It is I, mother, your son Pentheus, whom you bore in the house of Ekhion. Pity me, mother! Do not kill me, your child, for my errors!”
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]His priestess-mother got the killing going,
attacking him. He tore off his headdress
so she would know him and not kill him,
poor Agave. Touching her face, he said:
“It’s me, mother. Your son, Pentheus.
You bore me in Echion’s house.
O mother, have mercy on me.
Don’t kill your son over his mistake.”
[tr. Benn (2022)]
Ignoring his cries of pity,
she seized his left arm at the wrist; then, planting
her foot upon his chest, she pulled, wrenching away
the arm at the shoulder — not by her own strength,
for the god had put inhuman power in her hands.
Ino, meanwhile, on the other side, was scratching off
his flesh. Then Autonoe and the whole horde
of Bacchae swarmed upon him. Shouts everywhere,
he screaming with what little breath was left,
they shrieking in triumph. One tore off an arm,
another a foot still warm in its shoe. His ribs
were clawed clean of flesh and every hand
was smeared with blood as they played ball with scraps
of Pentheus’ body.[λαβοῦσα δ᾽ ὠλένης ἀριστερὰν χέρα,
πλευραῖσιν ἀντιβᾶσα τοῦ δυσδαίμονος
ἀπεσπάραξεν ὦμον, οὐχ ὑπὸ σθένους,
ἀλλ᾽ ὁ θεὸς εὐμάρειαν ἐπεδίδου χεροῖν:
Ἰνὼ δὲ τἀπὶ θάτερ᾽ ἐξειργάζετο,
ῥηγνῦσα σάρκας, Αὐτονόη τ᾽ ὄχλος τε πᾶς
ἐπεῖχε βακχῶν: ἦν δὲ πᾶσ᾽ ὁμοῦ βοή,
ὃ μὲν στενάζων ὅσον ἐτύγχαν᾽ ἐμπνέων,
αἳ δ᾽ ἠλάλαζον. ἔφερε δ᾽ ἣ μὲν ὠλένην,
ἣ δ᾽ ἴχνος αὐταῖς ἀρβύλαις: γυμνοῦντο δὲ
πλευραὶ σπαραγμοῖς: πᾶσα δ᾽ ᾑματωμένη
χεῖρας διεσφαίριζε σάρκα Πενθέως.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 1125ff [Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]
(Source)
Agave and the Bacchantes, seized by the spirit of Dionysus, attack the disrespectful King Pentheus, Agave's son.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Then with both hands
Seiz'd his left arm, and stamping on the ribs
Of this unhappy victim, tore away
His shoulder, nor appeared th' exertion great,
For by the God, with ease was she enabled
Her bloody purpose to effect: but Ino,
On his right side, full many a ghastly wound
Inflicted; with Autonoë, the whole Choir
Of Bacchanalian Dames press'd on, and join'd
In one tremendous shout: his groans continued
Till he had breath'd his last. They howl'd, one rent
His arm away, another with his foot
The sandal; they laid bare his ribs, and scatter'd,
Like balls, the mangled morsels of his flesh.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Seizing his left arm at the elbow and propping her foot against the unfortunate man's side, she tore out his shoulder, not by her own strength, but the god gave facility to her hands. Ino began to work on the other side, tearing his flesh, while Autonoe and the whole crowd of the Bacchae pressed on. All were making noise together, he groaning as much as he had life left in him, while they shouted in victory. One of them bore his arm, another a foot, boot and all. His ribs were stripped bare from their tearings. The whole band, hands bloodied, were playing a game of catch with Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]She caught him in her arms, seized his right hand,
And, with her feet set on his shrinking side,
Tore out the shoulder -- not with her own strength:
The god made easy that too cruel deed.
And ino laboured on the other side,
Rending the flesh: Autonoe, all the rest,
Pressed fiercely on, and there was one wild din --
He groaning deep, while he had breath to grown,
They shouting triumph; and one bore an arm,
One a still-sandled foot, and both his sides
Lay open, rent. Each in her bloody hand
Tossed wildly to and fro lost Pentheus' limbs.
[tr. Milman (1865)][Agave] seized his left arm, then, grappling with her hands,
Planted her foot upon the wretch’s breast,
And tore it from the shoulder. It was not
Her strength, but the god’s might which did the deed.
Ino assailed the other side, and rent
His flesh. Autonoe and the gathered crowd
Of Bacchants aided, and a cry arose;
He groaning, while the breath remained in him,
They shouting shrilly. This one bears an arm
That one a booted foot. To shreds they tore
His mangled body, and with bloody hands
All tossed his flesh about exultingly.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 1081ff]And she caught his left hand in her grip, and planting her foot upon her victim’s trunk she tore the shoulder from its socket, not of her own strength, but the god made it an easy task to her hands; and Ino set to work upon the other side, rending the flesh with Autonoe and all the eager host of Bacchanals; and one united cry arose, the victim’s groans while yet he breathed, and their triumphant shouts. One would make an arm her prey, another a foot with the sandal on it; and his ribs were stripped of flesh by their rending nails; and each one with blood-dabbled hands was tossing Pentheus’ limbs about.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But his left arm she clutched in both her hands,
And set against the wretch's ribs her foot,
And tore his shoulder out -- not by her strength,
But the God made it easy to her hands.
And Ino laboured on the other side,
Rending his flesh: Autonoë pressed on -- all
The Bacchanal throng. One awful blended cry
Rose -- the king's screams while life was yet in him,
And triumph-yells from them. One bare an arm,
One a foot sandal-shod. His ribs were stripped
In mangled shreds: with blood-bedabbled hands
Each to and fro was tossing Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Way (1898)]Round his left arm she put
Both hands, set hard against his side her foot,
Drew ... and the shoulder severed! -- Not by might
Of arm, but easily, as the God made light
Her hand's essay. And at the other side
Was Ino rending; and the torn flesh cried,
And on Autonoë pressed, and all the crowd
Of ravening arms. Yea, all the air was loud
With groans that faded into sobbing breath,
Dim shrieks, and joy, and triumph-cries of death.
And here was borne a severed arm, and there
A hunter's booted foot; white bones lay bare
With rending; and swift hands ensanguinèd
Tossed as in sport the flesh of Pentheus dead.
[tr. Murray (1902)]Grasping his left arm below the elbow
and setting her foot against the unhappy man’s ribs,
she tore his shoulder out, not by her normal strength,
but the god gave a special ease to her hands.
Ino was wrecking the other side of him,
breaking his flesh, and Autonoe and the whole mob
of bacchants laid hold on him; all gave voice at once --
he moaning with what breath was left in him,
they screaming in triumph. One was carrying a forearm,
another a foot with the boot still on; his ribs
were being laid bare by the tearing; and each of the women, with hands
all bloody, was playing ball with Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]She gripped his right arm between wrist and elbow; she set her foot against his ribs; and she tore his arm off by the shoulder. It was no strength of hers that did it; the god was in her fingers and made it easy. Ino was at him on the other side, tearing his flesh; and now Autonoe joined them, and the whole pack of raving women. There was a single continuous yell -- Pentheus shrieking as long as life was left in him, the women howling in triumph. One of them was carrying an arm, another had a food with the shoe still on it; the ribs were stripped -- clawed clean. Every hand was thick red with blood; and they were tossing and catching, to and fro, like a ball, the flesh of Pentheus.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]She seized the waving arm by the wrist, then
Planted her foot upon his chest and pulled,
Tore the arm clean off the shoulder. The tongue
Of Pentheus stretched out in agony, his mouth ran blood
But no sound came. Ino, on the other side of him
Began to peel his flesh. Then Autonoe, the swarming
Horde of Maenads homed on him, his other arm
Was torn, a foot flew up in the air, still encased
Within his sandals, the last I saw, his rib-case
Dragged, clawed clean of flesh. They played
With lumps of flesh, tossed from hand to blood-stained
Hand ....
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]She took hold of his left arm below the elbow
and braced her foot against his ribs, poor man,
and ripped the shoulder out -- and with no effort;
the god had made it easy for her hands.
Then Ino set to work on the other side,
rending his flesh, and Autonoe and all the throng
of bacchae set on him, shouting together,
he groaning out whatever breath he had left
while they were cheering. One carried off an arm
and one a foot, shoes and all; the ribs
lay naked through the mangling, and all the women
bloodied their hands, playing with Pentheus’ flesh,
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]Seizing his left arm just above the wrist,
and pushing with her foot against his chest
she wrenched his arm clean out of the shoulder.
It was not her strength that did it
but the God's power racing in her blood.
Ino, her sister, was working the other side,
tearing off his flesh. And now Autonoe
pounced upon him, followed by the whole rabid pack.
The mountains boomed with shrill confusion --
Pentheus wailing while there was still a gasp left in him,
the women howling in their triumph.
One carried off an arm,
another a foot with the boot still on it.
They laid his ribs bare -- clawed them clean.
His blood still warm on their hands,
they tossed the flesh of Pentheus back and forth
like children playing games.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Seizing his left forearm, bracing
Her foot in the ribs of the doomed man,
She ripped out the shoulder. Not by her strength,
But the god put skill in her hands
Ino ruined the other side,
Breaking the flesh, and Autonoe and the whole mob
Of Bacchants attacked, all one shout;
While he groaned with all his breath,
They screamed triumph. One carried off a forearm,
Another a foot still booted. His ribs
Were raked bare. Each bloodied her hands
Playing catch with Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Seizing his left arm with her forearms,
and pressing her foot against the doomed man's ribs,
she tore off his shoulder, not by her own strength --
no, the god gave a special ease to her hands.
Ino completed the job, tearing off his other shoulder,
ripping pieces of flesh while Autonoe and the entire mob of Bacchae
continued to press upon him. Every kind of shout was mingled together,
and for as long as he had breath he screamed in pain
while the maenads were crying out in triumph. One was carrying an arm,
another a foot still in its hunting boot. The ribs were laid bare
by the tearing apart. All the women, with blood-spattered hands,
were playing ball with Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Grabbing his left wrist with her hands, she braced
her foot against his ribs -- what a horrible fate for him --
and tore off his shoulder -- but not by brute strength.
The god made it come off easily in her hands.
On the other side Inô was taking him apart,
breaking off bits of meat. Autonoê and the mob of Bacchae
all went after him then. Then there was screaming everywhere.
He kept crying in pain as long as he had breath; they
were howling in triumph. Off went one with a forearm,
another took his foot -- with its hunting boot. And his ribs
were stripped, flesh torn away. They all had blood on their
hands. They tossed Pentheus’ meat like balls in a game of catch.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Taking with both her hands
His left forearm and setting her foot hard
Against the ribs of this ill-fated man,
She tore his shoulder out -- not by her strength
But by the ease the god gave to her hands.
And Ino had destroyed his other side,
Breaking up his flesh, and Autonoé
And the Bakkhai mobbed him and everyone was screaming
At the same time -- he groaning his last breath,
And they raising the war cry of their triumph.
One of them was flaunting a severed arm,
Another held a foot still shod for hunting,
His ribs were being bared by clawing nails,
And all with bloodied hands were playing games
By tossing hunks of the flesh of Pentheus.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 1274ff]Taking his right hand in her grip and planting her foot against the poor man's flank, she tore out his arm at the shoulder, using a strength not her own but put in her hands by the god. Ino was destroying his other side, tearing his flesh, and Autonoe and the rest of the bacchic throng attacked him. The air was filled with cries: Pentheus moaned with all the breath he had in him, and the women raised a sacrificial shout. One woman was carrying an arm, another a good still in its boot, his flanks were stripped bare, the flesh torn from them, and every woman, hands red with blood, hurled Pentheus' flesh about like a ball.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]She placed her hands around his upper arm,
Put her foot upon his chest, and twisted
Off his arm as one might a chicken's wing.
The God must have given her the strength. Then
Ino, like a scavenger, was at him,
Scratching at his flesh, soon too Autonoe,
Then the whole marauding horde of Bacchai,
His dying death's howl joining with their shout
To form one long single ululation.
One carried an arm, another a foot
Which still wore a bloodstained shoe.
They tossed his flesh into the air for joy,
His ribs picked clean, were used to beat the drum,
The women danced wild and wet with the blood
Of my master ....
[tr. Teevan (2002)]She then grabbed her son’s arm, stepped on his shoulder blade and ripped his arm clean off his body. The strength was not her own but her god’s. On the other side Ino was doing her part, tearing his flesh. So did Autonoe. The whole population of Maenads stopped and gazed at the spectacle. The whole place echoed with screams and he was groaning with pain while he was still alive. Then the Maenads began a war cry and each carried some part of Pentheus’ body. One carried a hand another a foot with its shoe still attached on it, others tore at his ribs showing them bare and others with bloody hands tossed parts of his flesh to each other.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Taking his left arm in her hands, and
wrenching her foot to the poor man's
ribcage, she ripped it right off his shoulder; not by her own
strength, but because the God made it come off in her hands.
And Ino was tearing into his other side as Autonoe and the entire
crowd of Bacchae had at him, and they shouted as one, he
holding himself up by the hand with his last few gasps of breath as they
started their call: "a-lululu..." One of them carried his forearm, an-
other, a foot still in its sandal, as his body's ripped
open and bare ribs uncovered; and each one, with blood dripping
hands, plays catch with Pentheus' flesh.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]She seized his left arm, below the elbow,
pushed her foot against the poor man's ribs,
then tore his shoulder out. The strength she had --
it was not her own. The god put power
into those hands of hers. Meanwhile Ino,
her sister, went at the other side,
ripping off chunks of Pentheus's flesh,
while Autonoe and all the Bacchae,
the whole crowd of them, attacked as well,
all of them howling out together.
As long as Pentheus was still alive,
he kept on screaming. The women cried in triumph --
one brandished an arm, another held a foot --
complete with hunting boot -- the women's nails
tore his ribs apart. Their hands grew bloody,
tossing bits of flesh back and forth, for fun.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1395ff]Grabbing his left hand at the wrist,
she planted her foot against his flank and wrenched,
pulling his arm straight out of his shoulder --
not with her own strength, but the strength of the god.
Ino worked on the other side,
tearing off handfuls of skin,
while Autonoe and all the other Bacchae came, engulfing him.
The air was full of yelps and cries
and he heard what must have been his last scream,
delivered to his world with his last breath.
A shriek of triumph. One woman cradled an arm;
another had a foot still warm in its shoe.
His ribs were clawed down to the white,
and every woman's hands were daubed with blood
as they tossed chunks of him
back and forth like a game of ball.
[tr. Robertson (2014), l. 1128ff]She grabbed his left hand in her arms
As she tread onto the ribs of that unlucky man
And then ripped his arm from his shoulder, not with her own strength
But the power which the god placed in her hands.
Ino was working through his other side,
Breaking apart his flesh, and Autonoê and the whole mob
Of the Bacchae was attacking -- there was just a single cry everywhere.
He was moaning out as much of the breath he happened to have,
And they were exulting. One woman was holding an arm;
Another had a foot still in its shoes; his sides were stripped
Nude, with flesh gone. Every woman’s hands were bloodied
As they played a ball game with Pentheus’ body’s parts.
[tr. @sentantiq (2018)]Grabbing his left forearm in her hands, she braced her foot against his bruised ribs and tore the arm from his shoulder.
It wasn’t her own strength that did it, the god had given her hands some of his own.
Ino went to work on the other side, tearing the flesh from the bones, and Autonoë and the rest of the Bacchae fell on him.
There was so much noise, all of them together, him groaning with all the breath he could get and them raising their victory-cry.
One carried off an arm, another a foot, still shod.
His ribs were stripped bare and with bloody hands they threw what was left of Pentheus around like they were playing catch.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Seizing his left arm at the elbow and propping her foot against the unfortunate man’s side, she tore out his shoulder, not by her own strength, but with the god providing assistance to her hands. Ino began to work on the other side, tearing his flesh, while Autonoe and the rest of the crowd pressed on. All were making noise together, and he groaned to the extent that he had life left in him, while they shouted in victory. One of them started to carry an arm, another a leg, boots and all. His ribs were stripped bare by their tearings. The whole band, hands bloodied, started playing a game of catch with Pentheus’ flesh.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]She gripped his left arm below the elbow,
jammed her foot against the poor man’s ribs,
then ripped arm from shoulder with strength not her own.
The god had made it easy for her hands.
Ino all the while worked his other arm,
ripping flesh. Autonoe and the Bacchic pack
grabbed at him too, screaming in unison.
While he groaned (all that his breathing allowed)
theirs were shouts of joy. One left with his arm;
one his foot, the shoe still on. The mauling
exposed his ribs. And then, with hands blood stained,
as they would a ball, they tossed around his flesh.
[tr. Benn (2022)]
Temperance.
Temperance and honoring the gods. It’s the best we can do.
The smartest thing mortals can choose to do.[τὸ σωφρονεῖν δὲ καὶ σέβειν τὰ τῶν θεῶν
κάλλιστον: οἶμαι δ᾽ αὐτὸ καὶ σοφώτατον
θνητοῖσιν εἶναι κτῆμα τοῖσι χρωμένοις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 1150ff [Messenger/Ἄγγελος] (405 BC) [tr. Pauly (2019)]
(Source)
After recounting the brutal murder and dismemberment of Pentheus by the Bacchantes in punishment of his disrespect to Dionysus.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For modest worth, and reverence for the Gods,
Are, in my judgement, the most certain marks
Of glory and of wisdom in mankind.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Soundness of mind and reverence for the affairs of the gods is best; and this, I think, is the wisest possession for those mortals who adopt it.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Oh! to be reverent, to adore the gods,
This is the noblest, wisest course of man,
Taking dread warning from this dire event.
[tr. Milman (1865)]For soberness and reverence for the gods
I deem the wisest and the best of things
To all such men as learn this lesson well.
[tr. Rogers (1872)]To my mind self-restraint and reverence for the things of God point alike the best and wisest course for all mortals who pursue them.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Ay, self-restraint, and reverence for the Gods
Are best, I ween; 'tis wisest far for men
To get these in possession, and cleave thereto.
[tr. Way (1898)]Oh, to fulfil
God's laws, and have no thought beyond His will,
Is man's best treasure. Aye, and wisdom true,
Methinks, for things of dust to cleave unto!
[tr. Murray (1902)]Humility,
a sense of reverence before the sons of heaven --
of all the prizes that a mortal man might win,
these, I say, are wisest; these are best.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]To be of sound mind and reverence the things divine
is finest -- and I think it is also the wisest
practice for mortal men to follow.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]The noblest thing a man can have is a humble and quiet heart that reveres the gods. I think that is also the wisest thing for a man to possess, if he will be use it.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Pure thought, and reverence for what is god’s --
this is the fairest and, I think, the wisest
possession mortals can employ.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]I am but a simple man, yet to me
reverence and humility before the Gods
is best for all men. It is also the only wisdom.
If only men would use it. So I think.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]To be moderate and honor godly things
Is best. I think it the wisest possession
For mortal men, if they use it well.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Moderation and reverence for things divine,
this is the best course. And it is also, I think,
the wisest possession for those mortals who use it.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]But this is the highest glory: have a sound mind and reverence for
whatever belongs to the gods. This too is the most wise
of all pursuits a human being can follow.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Wise moderation and a reverence
For what is of the gods -- this is what’s best.
And this, I think, of all possessions owned
By mortals, is the wisest one to use.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]The best thing of all is to practice moderation and worship the gods. That is also, I think, the wisest possession a mortal can make use of.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]The greatest wisdom is humility,
It is the greatest gift the gods give us;
Most wise the man who uses it.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]Wisdom and respect for the gods is a great virtue and a possession most worthy for the mortals to have.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]For having a mind that respects the affairs of divine ones
is the most beautiful thing on earth, and I think
it is the wisest thing someone could do.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]The best thing is to keep one's mind controlled,
and worship all that comes down from the gods.
That, in my view, is the wisest custom,
for those who can conduct their lives that way.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1428ff]This is another lesson:
that moderation and reverence for the gods
are a mortal's best possession.
[tr. Robertson (2014), l. 1149ff]For I believe
that our most beautiful possessions are sanity and a love of the gods.
The wise are those who use wisdom.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Balance [sōphroneîn] and reverence for the affairs of the gods is best. I think this is the most sophon possession for mortals’ use.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]Humility, a sense of reverence before the sons of heaven --
of all the prizes that a mortal man might win
these, I say, are wisest; these are best.
[Bartlett's]
If there be any man who derides the unseen world, let him consider the death of Pentheus, and acknowledge the gods.
[εἰ δ᾽ ἔστιν ὅστις δαιμόνων ὑπερφρονεῖ,
ἐς τοῦδ᾽ ἀθρήσας θάνατον ἡγείσθω θεούς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 1325ff [Cadmus/κάδμος] (405 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1973)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:If any impious mortal yet contemns
The Powers celestial, let him view the death
Of Pentheus, to convince him there are Gods.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]If anyone scorns the gods, let him look to the death of this man and acknowledge them.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]O if there be he who scorneth the great gods,
Gaze on this death, and know that there are gods.
[tr. Milman (1865)]If there be one who still disdains the gods,
Let him behold this corpse and reverence them.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 1293ff]Ah! if there be any man that scorns the gods, let him well mark this prince’s death and then believe in them.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]If any man there be that scorns the Gods,
This man's death let him note, and so believe.
[tr. Way (1898)]Oh, whoso walketh not in dread
Of Gods, let him but look on this man dead!
[tr. Murray (1902)]If there is still any mortal man
who despises or defies the gods, let him look
on this boy's death and believe in the gods.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]If there is any man who despises deity
let him look on Pentheus’ death, and judge that gods exist!
[tr. Kirk (1970)]If any man thinks light of the divine ones,
let him consider this man’s death, and believe in gods.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]If there be any man who challenges or scorns
the unseen powers,
let him look on this boy's death and accept
that which is God.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]If there is anyone who despises the gods,
Looking on this death, let him believe.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]So if there is anyone who disdains the gods
let him look at the death of this man here and let him believe that gods exist.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]If there is anyone who despises the divine,
he should look at this man's death and believe in gods.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Anyone who feels
Superior to the gods should study this:
Pentheus is dead -- believe in the gods!
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000)]If there is anyone who thinks nothing of heaven's power, let him look at this man's death and believe that the gods exist.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Let he who would defy the gods’ demands
Look at this piteous death and believe.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]If there’s anyone who insults the gods let him turn his eyes to this and let him believe.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]If there is anyone here who casts a disparaging eye
Upon the Divine, look now on this and know the Gods exist.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]If there's a man who disrespects the gods,
let him think about how this man perished --
then he should develop faith in them.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]If anyone still disputes the power of heaven,
let them look at this boy's death
and they will see that the gods live.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]If there are any left who would look down on the gods, let them see this.
This death.
And let them know the gods.
[tr. Pauly (2019)]If anyone, anywhere, denies the gods,
seeing this death, let him belisve in them.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]If anyone scorns the daimones, let him look to the death of this man and acknowledge them.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
CHORUS: There be many shapes of mystery.
And many things God makes to be,
Past hope or fear.
And the end men looked for cometh not,
And a path is there where no man thought.
So hath it fallen here.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: πολλαὶ μορφαὶ τῶν δαιμονίων,
πολλὰ δ᾿ ἀέλπτως κραίνουσι θεοί·
καὶ τὰ δοκηθέντ᾿ οὐκ ἐτελέσθη,
τῶν δ᾿ ἀδοκήτων πόρον ηὗρε θεός.
τοιόνδ᾿ ἀπέβη τόδε πρᾶγμα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bacchæ [Βάκχαι], l. 1388ff, final lines (405 BC) [tr. Murray (1902)]
(Source)
This sort of coda, as the Chorus exits, was normal with Euripides. In fact this same text shows up in five of his plays (Bacchæ, Alcestis, Andromache, Helen, and slightly modified, Medea), all of which have to do with reversals of fortune. The identical text has some scholars debating whether one or more might later additions. See Kirk, Esposito, Gibbons / Segal for more discussion.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:A thousand shapes our varying Fates assume,
The Gods perform what least we could expect,
And oft the things for which we fondly hop'd
Come not to pass: Heaven finds a clue to guide
Our steps thro' the perplexing maze of life,
And thus doth this important business end.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Many are the forms of divine things, and the gods bring to pass many things unexpectedly; what is expected has not been accomplished, but the god has found out a means for doing things unthought of. So too has this event turned out.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Many the forms in which God is made manifest,
Often He orders what seemed unexpected,
Much men resolve on remains uneffected,
Such men can not do God finds a way for;
Such is the meaning of what ye see.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 1358ff]Many are the forms the heavenly will assumes, and many a thing the gods fulfil contrary to all hope; that which was expected is not brought to pass, while for the unlooked-for Heaven finds out a way. E’en such hath been the issue here.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]O the works of the Gods -- in manifold wise they reveal them:
Manifold things unhoped-for the Gods to accomplishment bring.
And the things that we looked for, the Gods deign not to fulfil them;
And the paths undiscerned of our eyes, the Gods unseal them.
So fell this marvelous thing.
[tr. Way (1898)]The gods have many shapes.
The gods bring many things
to their accomplishment.
And what was most expected
has not been accomplished.
But god has found his way
for what no man expected.
So ends the play.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]Many are the shapes of things divine;
much the gods achieve beyond expectation;
and what seems probable is not accomplished,
whereas for the improbable, god finds a way.
Such was the result of this affair.
[tr. Kirk (1970)]Gods manifest themselves in many forms,
Bring many matters to surprising ends;
The things we thought would happen do not happen;
The unexpected God makes possible:
And that is what has happened here to-day.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]Many the guises of the divine ones,
many surprises gods may accomplish'
and the expected finds no fruition,
all unexpected god finds a pathway.
Such was the outcome in this, our play.
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]The Gods take many forms.
They manifest themselves in unpredictable ways.
What we most expect
does not happen.
And for the least expected
God finds a way.
This is what happened here today.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Divinity takes many forms.
The gods accomplish many things beyond all hope.
What is expected is not brought to pass.
But god discovers means
To bring about the unexpected.
Such was the outcome here.
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Many are the shapes of divinity,
many the things the gods accomplish against our expectation.
What seems proper is not brought to pass,
whereas for the improbable god finds a way.
Such was the outcome of this story.
[tr. Esposito (1998)]Many are the shapes the gods will take,
many the surprises they perform.
What was thought likely did not transpire,
and what was unlikely the god made easy.
That is how this matter ended.
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Many are the shapes of what's divine.
Many unforeseen events the gods design.
What seemed most likely was not fulfilled;
What was unlikely, the god has willed.
Such were the things that end in this decline.
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 1609ff]What heaven sends has many shapes, and many things the gods accomplish against our expectations. What men look for is not brought to pass, but a god finds a way to achieve the unexpected. Such was the outcome of this story.
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]The gods take many forms,
The gods move in strange ways,
That which seemed, does not transpire
And that which did not, does.
That is what transpired here.
Turn out the lights.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]That which was expected in this story did not come to pass, and for that which was expected, the god found a way. Perhaps mortals can never really grasp the workings of gods, for they do not follow a human design. They are a power of life we do not know, nor can fully understand.
[tr. Rao/Wolf (2004)]The Fates have many guises and the gods bring about many things unexpected by mortals.
Those things we expect do not necessarily happen.
So ends this play.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Many are the forms of the Divine
And the gods brought to pass much unexpected,
And what was expected, not brought to pass;
And they did make possible th’impossible:
Thus did the affair turn out.
[tr. Valerie (2005)]The gods appear in many forms,
carrying with them unwelcome things.
What people thought would happen never did.
What they did not expect, the gods made happen.
That's what this story revealed.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]The gods take many shapes,
accomplish many things beyond our expectations.
What we look for does not come to pass;
what we least expect is fashioned by the gods.
And that is what has happened here today.
[tr. Robertson (2014)]The shapes of god shift through many forms,
and lives are changed more than we could dream.
What we thought would happen did not,
but we have seen the god reveal
the true order of the world.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Many are the forms of divine powers
Many are the acts the gods unexpectedly make.
The very things which seemed likely did not happen
but for the unlikely, some god found a way.
This turned out to be that kind of story.
[tr. @sentantiq (2019)]Many are the forms of things of the daimones, and the gods bring many things to pass unexpectedly. What is expected does not come to telos, and a god finds a way for the unexpected. So too has this affair turned out.
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]
Call me a scoundrel, only call me rich!
All ask how great my riches are, but none
Whether my soul is good.[ἔα με κερδαίνοντα κεκλῆσθαι κακόν]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 181 (Nauck, TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Gummere (1925)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 65. Found (in Latin) in Seneca, Epistulae morales ad Lucilium, 115.14:Sine me vocari pessimum, ut dives vocer.
An dives, omnes quaerimus, nemo, an bonus.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:If any gain ensue, I am content.
To be term'd wicked. We all ask this question,
Whether a man be rich, not whether virtuous.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Let me be called a scoundrel, but a rich one.
We all ask if he’s rich, not if he’s good.
[Source]
Doth any man assert that there are Gods
In Heaven? I answer there are none: let him
Who contradicts me like a fool, no longer
Quote ancient fables; but observe the fact,
Nor to my words give credence. Kings, I say.
Kill many, but rob more of their possessions.
And violating every sacred oath,
Lay waste whole cities; yet, tho’ they act thus,
Are more successful far than they who lead
In constant piety a tranquil life.[φησίν τις εἶναι δῆτ’ ἐν οὐρανῷ θεούς;
οὐκ εἰσίν, οὐκ εἴσ’, εἴ τις ἀνθρώπων θέλει
μὴ τῷ παλαιῷ μῶρος ὢν χρῆσθαι λόγῳ.
σκέψασθε δ’ αὐτοί, μὴ ἐπὶ τοῖς ἐμοῖς λόγοις
γνώμην ἔχοντες. φήμ’ ἐγὼ τυραννίδα
κτείνειν τε πλείστους κτημάτων τ’ ἀποστερεῖν
ὅρκους τε παραβαίνοντας ἐκπορθεῖν πόλεις·
καὶ ταῦτα δρῶντες μᾶλλόν εἰσ’ εὐδαίμονες
τῶν εὐσεβούντων ἡσυχῇ καθ’ ἡμέραν]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 286 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 286, Barnes frag. 8, Musgrave frag. 25. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Doth some one say that there be gods above?
There are not; no, there are not. Let no fool,
Led by the old false fable, thus deceive you.
Look at the facts themselves, yielding my words
No undue credence: for I say that kings
Kill, rob, break oaths, lay cities waste by fraud,
And doing thus are happier than those
Who live calm pious lives day after day. All divinity
Is built-up from our good and evil luck.
[tr. Symonds (1876)]Does someone say there are indeed gods in heaven? There are not, there are not, if a man is willing not to rely foolishly on the antiquated reasoning. Consider for yourselves, do not base your opinion on words of mine. I say myself that tyranny kills very many men and dprives them of their possessions; and that tyrants break their oaths to ransack cities, and in doing this they are more prosperous under heaven than men who live quietly in reverence.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Does anyone assert that there are gods in heaven? There are not, no, there are not, if a man is ready not to swallow whole the old tales. Think it through yourselves, do not make my words the foundation of your opinion. I declare that tyranny kills many, robs them, that tyrants break their oaths to plunder cities, yet in this they prosper more than those whose unassuming habit is true piety.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]Does anyone say there are gods in heaven? There are not, there are not, unless one wishes to follow ancient wisdom like a fool. [...] I say that tyranny kills many people, deprives possessions, circumvents oaths, and plunders cities. And even though they do these things, they are more fortunate than those living piously day to day in peace.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]Is there anyone who thinks there are gods in heaven?
There are not. There are not, for any man who wishes
Not to be a fool and trust some ancient story.
Look at it yourselves, don’t make up your mind
Because of my words. I think that tyranny
Kills so many men and steals their possessions
And that men break their oaths by sacking cities.
But the men who do such things are more fortunate
Than those who live each day piously, at peace.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]People ask: Do gods really exist in heaven? No, they do not exist, they really don’t; if any of mankind wishes to avoid being the sort of fool who follows the ancient story. Consider it for yourselves, don’t take my word for it. I say that tyranny destroys multitudes and confiscates their possessions; oath-breakers sack cities; and yet, those who do such things are far more prosperous than those who, day by day, live devoutly and in peace.
[tr. Emerson]
And I have known small cities, who revere
The Gods, made subject to unrighteous power,
Vanquish’d by spears more numerous.[πόλεις τε μικρὰς οἶδα τιμώσας θεούς,
αἳ μειζόνων κλύουσι δυσσεβεστέρων
λόγχης ἀριθμῷ πλείονος κρατούμεναι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 286 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 286, Barnes frag. 8, Musgrave frag. 25. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:I know too of small cities doing honour to the gods which are subject to larger, more impious ones, because they are overcome by a more numerous army.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]I see minor states that honor gods subject to greater ones that revere none, for ‘might is right’.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]I know small cities honouring the gods that obey larger and more impious ones since they are outnumbered in spearmen.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]I know that small cities honor the gods,
Cities that obey stronger more impious men
Because they are overpowered by the strength of their arms.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]I know of small cities where the gods are honored: yet these same cities are forced to comply with the demands of impious men in larger cities, overpowered by the sheer magnitude of their armament.
[tr. Emerson]
Let not these things thy least concern engage;
For though thou fret, they will not mind thy rage.
Him only good and happy we may call
Who rightly useth what doth him befall.
[τοῖς πράγμασιν γὰρ οὐχὶ θυμοῦσθαι χρεών:
μέλει γὰρ αὐτοῖς οὐδέν: ἀλλ᾽ οὑντυγχάνων
τὰ πράγματ᾽ ὀρθῶς ἂν τιθῇ, πράσσει καλῶς]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 287 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [Morgan (1718)]
(Source)
Quoted in Plutarch, "De Tranquilitate Animi [On the Contentedness of the Mind]," sec. 4. (467a). Nauck frag. 287, Barnes frag. 132, Musgrave frag. 24.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Nor ought we to be angry at Events;
For they our anger heed not: but the man
Who best to each emergency adapts
His conduct, will assuredly act right.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Events will take their course, it is no good
Our being angry at them; he is happiest
Who wisely turns them to the best account.
[tr. Shilleto (1888), frag. 298]It does no good to rage at circumstance;
Events will take their course with no regard
For us. but he who makes the best of those
Events he lights upon will not fare ill.
[tr. Helmbold (1939)]There is no point in getting angry at circumstances. They are uncaring, utterly unconcerned.
But a man who responds to them in the right way, he fares well.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]One should not get angry with affairs, for they show no concern; but if a man handles affairs correctly as he encounters them, he fares well.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]
Dark stratagems, and treachery, to relieve
The coward’s wants, were by mankind devis’d.[δόλοι δὲ καὶ σκοτεινὰ μηχανήματα
χρείας ἀνάνδρου φάρμαχ᾽ εὕρηται βροτοῖς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 288 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 290, Barnes frag. 42, Musgrave frag. 8. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Tricks and dark schemes are mankind's invention as
cowardly remedies against need.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Trickery and devious devices are man’s unmanly means to meet his needs.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
I always fear less a dull man who is naturally strong
Than someone who is weak and clever.
[ἀεὶ γὰρ ἄνδρα σκαιὸν ἰσχυρὸν φύσει
ἧσσον δέδοικα τἀσθενοῦς τε καὶ σοφοῦ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 290 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 51, Musgrave frag. 11. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:By far less dangerous I esteem the fool
Endued with strength of body, than the man
Who's feeble and yet wise.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]I always fear a stupid if bodily powerful man less than one who is both weak and clever.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Always I fear an unintelligent but naturally strong man less than a weak and clever one.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]I fear less the powerful but stupid
than the weak and cunning.
[Source]
My son, young men’s arms are indeed taut for action, but old men’s counsels are better; for time teaches the most subtle lessons.
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 291 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]
(Source)
Alternate translation:Son, the hands of young men always itch for action, but the
judgment of the old is sounder.
Time teaches discrimination
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
If the gods do a shameful thing, they are not gods.
[εἰ θεοί τι δρῶσιν αἰσχρόν, οὐκ εἰσὶν θεοί.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 292, l. 7 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2014)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 112, Musgrave frag. 19. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:But to thee
This I maintain, that if the Gods commit
Aught that is base, they are no longer Gods.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]If gods do anything shameful, they are not gods.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]If gods do what is shameful, they are not gods.
[tr. Stevens (2012), frag. 286b]If the gods do anything base, they are not gods.
[tr. Dixon (2014)]
It is not worth living,
when we see bad men unjustly honored.
[ου γαρ άξιον λεύσσειν φάος κακούς ορώντας εκδίκως τιμωμένους.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 293 (c. 430 BC) [tr. Collard (1997)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 293, Barnes frag. 129, Musgrave frag. 23. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For life's not worth retaining when we see
The wicked crown'd with undeserv'd applause.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]It is not worth living, if people see bad men unjustly honored.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Life has no value when the bad are seen to thrive unjustly.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
How deep is evil rooted in the breasts
Of all men! tho’ our pardon we extend not
To him, who, grasping at some great reward,
Becomes a sinner: yet since, in proportion
As he grows boldly profligate, he reaps
Greater advantages, he with more ease
The world’s reproachful language may sustain.[ὡς ἔμφυτος μὲν πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις κάκη”
ὅστις δὲ πλεῖστον μισϑὸν εἰς χεῖρας λαβὼν
κακὸς γένηται, τῷδε συγγνώμη μὲν οὔ,
πλείω δὲ μισϑὸν μείζονος τόλμης ἔχων
τὸν τῶν λεγόντων ῥᾷον ἂν φέροι Ῥόγον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 297 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 299. Barnes frag. 44, Musgrave frag. 9. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:All men have badness in their natures! The one who takes most pay into his hands, and proves bad, gets no pardon; but if he has more pay for greater audacity, he'll endure censorious talk more easily.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]There is evil in all men. Whoever gets his hands on good money and is seen to be wicked, he is roundly condemned. But if he were yet more daring, gaining even greater reward, he would have less of a problem enduring being criticized by others.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
The prosperous fortunes, and the haughty wealth
Of an unrighteous man, we never ought
To deem establish’d on a solid base,
Or that the children of th’ unjust can prosper:
For Time, who from no Father springs, applies
His levell’d line, and shews man’s foul misdeeds.
[οὐδέποτ᾽ εὐτυχίαν κακοῦ ἀνδρὸς ὑπέρφρονά τ᾽ ὄλβον
βέβαιον εἰκάσαι χρεών,
οὐδ᾽ ἀδίκων γενεάν” ὁ γὰρ οὐδενὸς ἐχφὺς
χρόνος δικαίους ἐπάγων κανόνας
δείκνυσιν ἀνθρώπων καχότητας ἐμοί.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 303 (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck (TGF) frag. 305, Barnes frag. 33, Musgrave frag. 6.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Think not that the prosperity and riches of the wicked can endure, nor yet the generation of the bad; for Time, sprung from eternity, having a just rule in his hand, shows the wickedness of men.
[Source (1878)]One ought never to imagine the success of a bad man, and his proud wealth, as secure, nor the lineage of unjust men; for time, which was born from nothing, adduces standards which are just and shows the wickedness of men in spite of all.
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]It must not be believed
that the wicked thrive securely
though puffed-up-proud in their prosperity
nor the long line of injustices go on and on
uninterrupted -- Self-generating Time
(slowly -- slowly) lays
the yardstick of justice --
into the open (at least) brings
all iniquities of men.
For all that. For all that.
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
But what is there in man’s precarious life
To be relied on? o’er the foamy deep
Rides the swift vessel by the wind impell’d:
But as to human fortunes, Time reduces
The great to nothing, and augments the small.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Bellerophon [Βελλεροφῶν], frag. 304 (TGF) (c. 430 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Barnes frag. 117, Musgrave frag. 20. Alternate translations:Where indeed is there sureness in man's life? For swift ships the winds drive a straight path on the ocean deep, but men's fortunes are changed by the largeness of time, their greatness to nothing, while with increase for the lesser ....
[tr. Collard, Hargreaves, Cropp (1995)]Where -- where --
for those that die
life’s sure foundation? If we were ships
over the depths of ocean
winds would drive us
straight.
But those that die
their fortune shifts, it veers
in twists of fate -- as Time
(slowly --– slowly) generates itself
at its own leisure
reducing what was great
to nothing – raising up
another ....
[tr. Stevens (2012)]
CYCLOPS: Are you the ones who went to punish Ilium on the Scamander for the theft of the worthless Helen?
ODYSSEUS: Yes, we are the ones who endured that terrible toil.
CYCLOPS: Disgraceful expedition, to sail for the sake of one woman to the land of the Phrygians!
ODYSSEUS: It was the doing of a god: blame no mortal for it.
[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: ἦ τῆς κακίστης οἳ μετήλθεθ᾽ ἁρπαγὰς
Ἑλένης Σκαμάνδρου γείτον᾽ Ἰλίου πόλιν.ΟΔΥΣΣΕΥΣ: οὗτοι, πόνον τὸν δεινὸν ἐξηντληκότες.
ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: αἰσχρὸν στράτευμά γ᾽, οἵτινες μιᾶς χάριν
γυναικὸς ἐξεπλεύσατ᾽ ἐς γαῖαν Φρυγῶν.ΟΔΥΣΣΕΥΣ: θεοῦ τὸ πρᾶγμα: μηδέν᾽ αἰτιῶ βροτῶν.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 280ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Kovacs (1994)]
(Source)
Regarding the Trojan War, as told in Homer's Illiad.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:POLYPHEME:Are ye the men
Who worthless Helen's ravisher pursued
To Ilion's turrets on Scamander's bank?
ULYSSES: The same: most dreadful toils have we endured.
POLYPHEME: Dishonourable warfare; in the cause
Of one vile woman, ye to Phrygia sail'd.
ULYSSES: Such was the will of Jove; on no man charge
The fault.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]CYCLOPS: What, have ye shared in the unenvied spoil
Of the false Helen, near Scamander's stream?
ULYSSES: The same, having endured a woeful toil.
CYCLOPS: Oh, basest expedition! sailed ye not
From Greece to Phrygia for one woman's sake?
ULYSSES: 'Twas the Gods' work -- no mortal was in fault.
[tr. Shelley (1824)]CYCLOPS: Are ye the men who visited on Ilium, that bordereth on Scamander's wave, the rape of Helen, worst of women?
ODYSSEUS: We are; that was the fearful labour we endured.
CYCLOPS: A sorry expedition yours, to have sailed to the land of Phrygia for the sake of one woman.
ODYSSEUS: It was a god's doing; blame not any son of man.
[tr. Coleridge (1913)]CYCLOPS: Oho ! then you’re the men who went in search
Of Helen, who left her husband in the lurch,
And ran away to Ilium by Scamander?
ODYSSEUS: Yes: slippery fish -- hard work to hook and land her.
CYCLOPS: Yes -- and a most disgraceful exhibition
You made of your own selves! -- an expedition
To Phrygia, for one petticoat! -- disgusting!
ODYSSEUS: Don’t blame us men: it was the Gods’ on-thrusting.
[tr. Way (1916)]
CYCLOPS: Little man, the wise regard wealth as the god to worship; all else is just prating and fine-sounding sentiments.
[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: ὁ πλοῦτος, ἀνθρωπίσκε, τοῖς σοφοῖς θεός,
τὰ δ᾽ ἄλλα κόμποι καὶ λόγων εὐμορφία.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 316ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Kovacs (1994)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:POLYPHEME:Vile caitiff,
Wealth is the deity the wise adore,
But all things else are unsubstantial boasts,
And specious words alone.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]CYCLOPS: Wealth, my good fellow, is the wise man's God, All other things are a pretence and boast.
[tr. Shelley (1824)]CYCLOPS: Wealth, manikin, is the god for the wise; all else is mere vaunting and fine words.
[tr. Coleridge (1913)]CYCLOPS: Wealth, master Shrimp, is to the truly wise
The one true god; the rest are mockeries
Of tall talk, naught but mere word-pageantries.
[tr. Way (1916)]
CYCLOPS: I sacrifice to no one save myself and this belly, the greatest of deities; but to the gods, not I!
[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: ἁγὼ οὔτινι θύω πλὴν ἐμοί, θεοῖσι δ᾽ οὔ,
καὶ τῇ μεγίστῃ, γαστρὶ τῇδε, δαιμόνων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 334ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1913)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:POLYPHEME:To no other God except myself,
And to this belly, greatest of the Gods,
I sacrifice.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]CYCLOPS:To what other God but to myself
And this great belly, first of deities,
Should I be bound to sacrifice?
[tr. Shelley (1819)]CYCLOPS: I sacrifice to my great Self, sir Sprat,
And to no god beside -- except, that is,
My belly, greatest of all deities.
[tr. Way (1916)]CYCLOPS: I sacrifice to no god save myself --
And to my belly, greatest of deities.
[ed. Adams (1952)]CYCLOPS: I sacrifice to no one but myself -- never to the gods -- and to my belly, the greatest of divinities.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]
ODYSSEUS: He wants to go forth, full of wine and glee,
To his brother Cyclops for wild revelry.[ΟΔΥΣΣΕΥΣ: ἐπὶ κῶμον ἕρπειν πρὸς κασιγνήτους θέλει
Κύκλωπας ἡσθεὶς τῷδε Βακχίου ποτῷ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 445ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Way (Loeb) (1916)]
(Source)
Regarding the Cyclops keeping he and his men prisoner, and who he has introduced to the wonders of wine.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:ULYSSES: By wine enliven'd, he resolves to go
And revel with his brethren.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]ULYSSES: Delighted with the Bacchic drink he goes
To call his brother Cyclops -- who inhabit
A village upon Aetna not far off.
[tr. Shelley (1824)]ODYSSEUS: Delighted with this liquor of the Bacchic god, he fain would go a-reveling with his brethren.
[tr. Coleridge (1913)]ODYSSEUS: He wants to go to his brother Cyclopes for a revel since he is delighted with this drink of Dionysus.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]
CYCLOPS: Ha! ha! ha! I’m full of wine,
Heavy with the joy divine,
With the young feast oversated;
Like a merchant’s vessel freighted
To the water’s edge, my crop
Is laden to the gullet’s top.
The fresh meadow grass of spring
Tempts me forth thus wandering
To my brothers on the mountains,
Who shall share the wine’s sweet fountains.
Bring the cask, O stranger, bring![ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: παπαπαῖ: πλέως μὲν οἴνου,
γάνυμαι δὲ δαιτὸς ἥβᾳ,
σκάφος ὁλκὰς ὣς γεμισθεὶς
ποτὶ σέλμα γαστρὸς ἄκρας.
ὑπάγει μ᾽ ὁ φόρτος εὔφρων
ἐπὶ κῶμον ἦρος ὥραις
ἐπὶ Κύκλωπας ἀδελφούς.
φέρε μοι, ξεῖνε, φέρ᾽, ἀσκὸν ἔνδος μοι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 503ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Shelley (1824)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:POLYPHEME: Ha! ha! I am replete with wine, the banquet
Hath cheer'd my soul: like a well-freighted ship
My stomach's with abundant viands stow'd
Up to my very chin. This smiling turf
Invites me to partake a vernal feast
With my Cyclopean brothers. Stranger, bring
That vessel from the cave.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]CYCLOPS: Ha! ha! full of wine and merry with a feast's good cheer am I, my hold freighted like a merchant-ship up to my belly's very top. This turf graciously invites me to seek my brother Cyclopes for revel in the spring-tide. Come, stranger, bring the wine-skin hither and hand it over to me.
[tr. Coleridge (1913)]CYCLOPS: Oho! Oho! I am full of good drink,
Full of glee from a good feast’s revel!
I’m a ship that is laden till ready to sink
Right up to my crop’s deck-level!
The jolly spring season is tempting me out
To dance on the meadow-clover
With my Cyclop brothers in revel-rout! --
Here, hand the wine-skin over!
[tr. Way (1916)]CYCLOPS: Ooh la la! I'm loaded up with wine, my heart skips with the cheer of the feast. My hull is full right up to the top-deck of my belly. This cheerful cargo brings me out to revel, in the springtime, to the houses of my brother Cyclopes. Come now, my friend, come now, give me the wine-skin.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]
CHORUS LEADER: Ah! wine is a terrible foe, hard to wrestle with.
[ΧΟΡΟΣ: δεινὸς γὰρ οἷνος καὶ παλαίεσθαι βαρύς.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Cyclops [Κύκλωψ], l. 678ff (c. 424-23 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1913)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:CHORUS: Wine is invincible.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]CYCLOPS: For wine is strong and hard to struggle with.
[tr. Shelley (1824)]CHORUS: Ah, wine’s the chap to trip your legs, I think.
[tr. Way (1916)]CHORUS-LEADER: Yes, wine is a dangerous thing and hard to wrestle against.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]
ELECTRA: Onward, O labouring tread,
As on move the years;
Onward amid thy tears,
O happier dead![ἨΛΈΚΤΡΑ: σύντειν᾽ — ὥρα — ποδὸς ὁρμάν: ὤ,
ἔμβα, ἔμβα κατακλαίουσα:
ἰώ μοί μοι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 112ff, Strophe 1 (c. 420 BC) [tr. Murray (1905)]
(Source)
Early introduction, mourning her situation as exiled child of the dead Agamemnon and her hated mother, Clytemnestra.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Haste, for the time admits not of delay.
My gentle comrades hither haste
And shed, O shed the sympathetic tear.
Ah me!
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Hasten your step, it is time; go onward, onward, weeping! Ah me!
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Hasten on the course of my foot, O hour; O, go thou on, go on, weeping. Alas! for me, for me.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Bestir thou, for time presses, thy foot's speed;
Haste onward, weeping bitterly.
I am his child, am Agamemnon's seed, --
Alas for me, for me!
[tr. Way (1896)]Come, girl, move! Move on to the beat of your rushing tears!
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]You must step quickly now --
it’s time to move -- keep going,
lamenting as you go.
Alas for me! Yes, for me!
[tr. Johnston (2009)]Quicken the move of your foot with song
Walk on, walk on in tears.
Ah, my life.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
ORESTES: Ye Gods! There’s no art to tell a decent man,
since generations work haphazardly.
I’ve encountered worthless men, the sons
of noble fathers; good men born from bad;
and I’ve seen hunger in a rich man’s mind,
a poor man’s body housing thoughts sublime.[ὈΡΈΣΤΗΣ: φεῦ:
οὐκ ἔστ᾽ ἀκριβὲς οὐδὲν εἰς εὐανδρίαν:
ἔχουσι γὰρ ταραγμὸν αἱ φύσεις βροτῶν.
ἤδη γὰρ εἶδον ἄνδρα γενναίου πατρὸς
τὸ μηδὲν ὄντα, χρηστά τ᾿ ἐκ κακῶν τέκνα,
λιμόν τ᾿ ἐν ἀνδρὸς πλουσίου φρονήματι,
γνώμην δὲ μεγάλην ἐν πένητι σώματι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 367ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Wilson (2016)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:There is no certain mark of generous souls:
For in the tempers of mankind prevails
A strange confusion. I have seen the son
Of a great father dwindle into nothing.
And virtuous children spring from wicked Sires;
Among the rich a mean contracted spirit
Have I discover'd, and the poor man's breast
Withi most exalted sentiments inspir'd.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Ah! there is no sure mark to recognize a man's worth; for human nature hath in it an element of confusion. For I have seen ere now the son of a noble sire prove himself a worthless knave, and virtuous children sprung from evil parents; likewise dearth in a rich man's spirit, and in a poor man's frame a mighty soul.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Alas! there is no sure mark of manliness; for the natures of mortals exhibit a confusion. For already have I seen a man who was naught sprung from a noble sire, and good children [sprung] from bad [fathers[,. and hunger in the spirit of a rich man, and a great mind in a poor body.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Lo, there is no sure test for manhood’s worth:
For mortal natures are confusion-fraught. --
I have seen ere now a noble father’s son
Proved nothing-worth, seen good sons of ill sires,
Starved leanness in a rich man’s very soul,
And in a poor man’s body a great heart.
[tr. Way (1896)]How dark lies honour hid! And what turmoil
In all things human: sons of mighty men
Fallen to naught, and from ill seed again
Good fruit: yea, famine in the rich man's scroll
Writ deep, and in poor flesh a lordly soul.
[tr. Murray (1905)]Ah! There is no exact way to test a man's worth; for human nature has confusion in it. I have seen before now the son of a noble father worth nothing, and good children from evil parents; famine in a rich man's spirit, and a mighty soul in a poor man's body.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]It is impossible to judge a man’s virtue with accuracy. There’s always great confusion in the nature of mortals. I, myself, have seen worthless children born of a virtuous man and from evil parents born brilliant children. I have seen a small, poor mind in a wealthy man and in the soul of a poor man, a great one.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]Well, nothing is precise
when it comes to how a man is valued --
men’s natures are confusing. Before this,
I’ve seen a man worth nothing, yet he had
a noble father; I’ve known evil parents
with outstanding children, seen famine
in a rich man’s mind and a great spirit
in a poor man’s body.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]I have known a man of a noble father who turns out
To be nothing while powerful men can rise from the low.
I have seen emptiness in a rich man’s thought
And great judgement in a poor person’s frame.
[tr. @sententiq (2020)]
PEASANT: ‘Tis in such shifts
As these, I care for riches, to make gifts
To friends, or lead a sick man back to health
With ease and plenty. Else small aid is wealth
For daily gladness; once a man be done
With hunger, rich and poor are all as one.[ΑΥΤΟΥΡΓΌΣ: ἐν τοῖς τοιούτοις δ᾽ ἡνίκ᾽ ἂν γνώμης πέσω,
σκοπῶ τὰ χρήμαθ᾽ ὡς ἔχει μέγα σθένος,
ξένοις τε δοῦναι σῶμά τ᾽ ἐς νόσους πεσὸν
δαπάναισι σῷσαι: τῆς δ᾽ ἐφ᾽ ἡμέραν βορᾶς
ἐς σμικρὸν ἥκει: πᾶς γὰρ ἐμπλησθεὶς ἀνὴρ
ὁ πλούσιός τε χὡ πένης ἴσον φέρει.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 426ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Murray (1905)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:When on these matters I reflect, I mark
How great the power of riches, to bestow
Upon the needy stranger, or expend them
To heal our bodies wasting with disease.
But for the diet of one day, is wealth
Of small importance : for the appetites
Of all men, whether rich or poor, demand
An equal share of necessary food.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]It is in such cases, whenever I fail in my intentions, that I see how wealth has great power, to give to strangers, and to expend in curing the body when it falls sick; but money for our daily food comes to little; for every man when full, rich or poor, gets an equal amount.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But when my mind falls upon this subject, I consider how great a power wealth has, botht o bestow on strangers, and by expense to preserve one's body when fallen into sickness; but for one's daily food it comes to little. For every man once filled, rich or poor, bears an equality.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]In such things, when my thoughts turn thitherward,
I mark what mighty vantage substance hath,
To give to guests, to medicine the body
In sickness: but for needs of daily food
Not far it reacheth. Each man, rich and poor,
Can be but filled, when hunger is appeased.
[tr. Way (1896)]When I think of such things then I see what mighty power money has! Not only you help your friends with the stuff but you can also heal yourself from any illness when you have the money to pay. The cost of a normal everyday meal is cheap, because everyone, rich and poor, once he had enough he feels the same joy.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]It’s at times like this,
when I have no idea how to manage,
I think of the great power money has
for giving things to strangers and paying
to save someone whenever he falls sick.
The meals we need each day don’t come to much,
for all men, once they have eaten their fill,
feel much the same, whether rich or poor.
[tr. Johnston (2009), l. 515ff][...] whether rich or poor
Everyone is equal when their belly is full.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
ORESTES: Otherwise how can we believe in the gods, if injustice can triumph over justice?
[ὈΡΈΣΤΗΣ:ἢ χρὴ μηκέθ᾽ ἡγεῖσθαι θεούς,
εἰ τἄδικ᾽ ἔσται τῆς δίκης ὑπέρτερα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 584ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Theodoridis (2006)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Else shall we cease to think that any Gods
Exist, if Villainy prevail o'er Justice.
[tr. Wodhull (1809); Electra speaking]Else we must no longer believe in gods, if wrong is to be victorious over right.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]It behooves one no longer to think that there are Gods, if unjust deeds get the advantage of justice.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]We must believe no more
In Gods, if wrong shall triumph over right.
[tr. Way (1896)]Else men shall know there is no God, no light
In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right.
[tr. Murray (1905)]Else must we cease to believe in gods, if wrong is to triumph o'er right.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]For if wrongful acts
triumph over justice, then no longer
should we put any of our faith in gods.
[tr. Johnston (2009), l. 699ff]
CHORUS: But fairy tales that scare us humans
are useful for religion.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: φοβεροὶ δὲ βροτοῖσι μῦ-
θοι κέρδος πρὸς θεῶν θεραπεί-
αν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 743ff, Antistrophe 2 (c. 420 BC) [tr. Wilson (2016)]
(Source)
Following recounting of a story in which Zeus made the sun move backwards in the sky to punish Thyestes for his treachery.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Fresh strength is added to religion's base
By fables which man's breast with terror fill.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]But tales that frighten men are profitable for service to the gods.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But stories terrible to mortals are a gain for the worship of the gods.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Yet it may be the tale liveth, soul-affraying,
To bow us to Godward in lowly obeying.
[tr. Way (1896)]Once, men told the tale, and trembled;
Fearing God.
[tr. Murray (1905)]Such shocking myths are for the good of men, to frighten them into believing in the gods.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]But tales which terrify mankind
are profitable and serve the gods.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]
ELECTRA: Our folk are hard to please, and love to blame.
[ἨΛΈΚΤΡΑ: δυσάρεστος ἡμῶν καὶ φιλόψογος πόλις.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 904 (c. 420 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]
(Source)
On her concern that people will criticize her for speaking ill of dead Aegisthus, even though he was complicit in the death of her father, Agamemnon.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Our city is morose, and prone to slander.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Our citizens are hard to please, and love to blame.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Our city is hard to please and fond of slander.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Our folk be ill to please, and censure-prone.
[tr. Way (1896)]Our city gives
Quick blame; and little love have men for me.
[tr. Murray (1905)]The city has an ill will towards us. Argos will shun us.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]Still, the city
is hard to please and loves to criticize.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]Our state is hard to please and loves complaints.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
ELECTRA: What deceived you the most, what you misunderstood,
Is that someone cannot be strong because of money.
Money can only stay with us for a brief time.
Character is strength, not money.
Character always stands at our sides and bears our troubles.
Wealth shacks up with fools unjustly and then disappears
Leaving their houses after it bloomed for a little while.[ἨΛΈΚΤΡΑ: ὃ δ᾿ ἠπάτα σε πλεῖστον οὐκ ἐγνωκότα,
ηὔχεις τις εἶναι τοῖσι χρήμασι σθένων·
τὰ δ᾿ οὐδὲν εἰ μὴ βραχὺν ὁμιλῆσαι χρόνον.
ἡ γὰρ φύσις βέβαιος, οὐ τὰ χρήματα.
ἡ μὲν γὰρ αἰεὶ παραμένουσ᾿ αἴρει κακά·
ὁ δ᾿ ὄλβος ἀδίκως καὶ μετὰ σκαιῶν ξυνὼν
ἐξέπτατ᾿ οἴκων, σμικρὸν ἀνθήσας χρόνον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 938ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
(Source)
Addressing the corpse of Aegisthus.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:But here lay
Thy error; thou didst deem thyself a man
Able to rule, because thou wert possess'd
Of wealth, which in itself is nought, and stays
For a short season only with its owner:
But Nature, and not Gold, is ever firm;
Nature abides with man, and can remove
Evils the most severe, while lawless Gold,
That inmate of the wicked, takes his flight
From mansions where he flourish'd but a moment
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Herein lay thy grievous error, due to ignorance; thou thoughtest thyself some one, relying on thy wealth, but this is naught save to stay with us a space. 'Tis nature that stands fast, not wealth. For it, if it abide unchanged, exalts man's horn. But riches dishonestly acquired and in the hands of fools, soon take their flight, their blossom quickly shed.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Which thing has most deceived thee, not knowing it. Thou didst boast to be somebody, relying on thy wealth; but wealth is naught, except to tarry with us for a little time. But nature is stable; not money: since the one ever remaining uplifts her head; but wealth unjust, and dwelling with the foolish, is wont to flit from the house, having flourished for a short season.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]This was thy strong delusion, blind of heart,
Through pride of wealth to boast thee some great one!
Nought wealth is, save for fleeting fellowship.
'Tis character abideth, not possessions:
This, ever-staying, lifteth up the head;
But wealth by vanity gotten, held of fools,
Takes to it wings; as a flower it fadeth soon.
[tr. Way (1896)]And then the lie of lies that dimmed thy brow,
Vaunting that by thy gold, thy chattels, Thou
Wert Something; which themselves are nothingness,
Shadows, to clasp a moment ere they cease.
The thing thou art, and not the things thou hast,
Abideth, yea, and bindeth to the last
Thy burden on thee: while all else, ill-won
And sin-companioned, like a flower o'erblown,
Flies on the wind away.
[tr. Murray (1905)]This deceived you the most, in your ignorance: you professed to be some one, strong in your wealth, but that is nothing, except to associate with briefly. It is nature that is secure, not wealth; for, always standing by, it takes away troubles; but prosperity, when it lives wickedly and with fools, flies out of the house, flowering for a short time.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]And you, Aigisthus, because of your lack of intelligence, fell into a big trap which is that you thought that the great wealth made you important. Yet wealth is not something you can have for long.
A man’s strength is his nature, not his wealth because that is what stays with us and that is what defeats our troubles. When the unjust joy falls into sinful ways, it blossoms in the house for a very short time before it flies away again.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]But most of all,
you were so ignorant you were deceived
in claiming to be someone because your strength
was in your wealth. But that’s not worth a thing --
its presence is short lived. What stays secure
is not possessions but one’s nature, which stands
beside you and takes away your troubles.
But when riches live with fools unjustly,
they bloom a little while, then flee the house.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]Now here's where you deceived yourself the most: that you had wealth, and thought it made you someone. But money's nothing: here and gone again. Trust nature, it's secure. Riches are not. Nature remains forever, helps in trouble. Prosperity that lives a while with fools briefly flowers with evil, then flies from home.
[tr. Wilson (2016)]
ELECTRA: And let no man committing wicked acts
believe that if he runs the first leg well,
he is defeating justice, not before
he moves across the finish line and ends
the last lap in his life.[ἨΛΈΚΤΡΑ:ὧδέ τις κακοῦργος ὢν
μή μοι τὸ πρῶτον βῆμ᾽ ἐὰν δράμῃ καλῶς,
955νικᾶν δοκείτω τὴν Δίκην, πρὶν ἂν πέλας
γραμμῆς ἵκηται καὶ τέλος κάμψῃ βίου.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 954ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Johnston (2009), l. 1152]
(Source)
Speaking to the corpse of Ægisthus, who slew her father, Agamemnon.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Let no villain,
Tho' the first stage of his career he run
With prosperous Fortune, think he hath outstripp'd
Avenging Justice, till he reach the goal,
And end his life.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Let none suppose, though he have run the first stage of his course with joy, that he will get the better of Justice, till he have reached the goal and ended his career.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Let not a man, if he run the first course well, think he will win the victory, before he comes nigh the line, and turns the end of life.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Let none dream, though at starting he run well,
That he outrunneth Justice, ere he touch
The very goal and reach the bourn of life.
[tr. Way (1896)]O vaunt not, if one step be proudly made
In evil, that all Justice is o'ercast:
Vaunt not, ye men of sin, ere at the last
The thin-drawn marge before you glimmereth
Close, and the goal that wheels 'twixt life and death.
[tr. Murray (1905)]So let no evildoer suppose, even if he runs the first step well, that he will get the better of Justice, until he comes to the end of the finish-line and makes the last turn in life.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]Let every criminal like him know that just because his first criminal steps went according to his wishes that he has not defeated Justice before his life’s end.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]May every criminal
see that he'll never win the race with Justice!
He may run quick at first, but play it out:
run on, right to the finish line of life.
[tr. Wilson (2016)]
ORESTES: What should we do? Should we kill our mother?
[ὈΡΈΣΤΗΣ: τί δῆτα δρῶμεν; μητέρ᾿ ἦ φονεύσομεν.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 966ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
(Source)
The answer from Electra, of course, is yes -- Clytemnestra is to be killed for her role in the murder of her late husband (and Electra and Oresthes' father), Agamemnon. They have already killed the other responsible party, her next husband, Aegisthus.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:What now remains
For us to do, shall we with ruthless steel
Pierce the maternal breast?
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]What are we going to do? Shall we kill our mother?
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]What then shall we do? shall we murder our mother?
[tr. Buckley (1892)]What shall we do? -- our mother shall we slay?
[tr. Way (1896)]What would we with our mother? Didst thou say
Kill her?
[tr. Murray (1905)]What must we do to our mother? Slay her?
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]What shall we do then? Slaughter our mother?
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]What are we going to do?
Kill our mother?
[tr. Johnston (2009)]What shall we do? Can we really kill our mother?
[tr. Wilson (2016)]
ORESTES: I’ll go. I’ll start to do this dreadful thing, this horror. Yes, I will. If it’s the gods’ will, I’ll do it. But I take no joy in it.
[ὈΡΈΣΤΗΣ: ἔσειμι: δεινοῦ δ᾽ ἄρχομαι προβλήματος
καὶ δεινὰ δράσω γε — εἰ θεοῖς δοκεῖ τάδε,
ἔστω: πικρὸν δὲ χἡδὺ τἀγώνισμά μοι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 985ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Wilson (2016)]
(Source)
Orestes going to kill his mother, Clytemnestra, who was, along with the already-killed Aegisthus, the murderer of his father, Agamemnon.
Interestingly, earlier translations have him characterize the task as both bitter and sweet; later ones only speak of its bitterness.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:I go in.
Tho' I am entering on a deed that's fraught
With horror, I will execute the deed;
Thus let it be, if thus the righteous Gods
Ordain: altho' this conflict to my soul
At the same time be bitter, and yet sweet.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]I will go in; it is a dreadful task I am beginning and I will do dreadful things. If the gods approve, let it be; to me the contest is bitter and also sweet.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]I will enter in; but I am beginning a dreadful attempt. Ay, and I shall do dreadful things; but if this seems fit to the Gods, let it be; but the contest is for me [at once] bitter and sweet.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]I will go in. A horror I essay!
Yea, horrors will achieve! If this please Heaven,
So be it. Bitter strife, yet sweet, for me.
[tr. Way (1896)]Aye. So be it. -- I have ta'en
A path of many terrors: and shall do
Deeds horrible. 'Tis God will have it so. ...
Is this the joy of battle, or wild woe?
[tr. Murray (1905)]I will go in; 'tis an awful task I undertake; an awful deed I have to do; still if it is Heaven's will, be it so; I loathe and yet I love the enterprise.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]Fine. I am going inside. Terrible the deed I shall begin and frightening the deeds I shall accomplish. If this is liked by the gods then so be it. My battle is bitter, not sweet.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]I’ll go in.
I’m on the verge of a horrendous act,
something truly dreadful. Well, so be it,
if gods approve of this. And yet, for me
the contest is not sweet at all, but bitter.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]
CHORUS: Goodbye! Good luck! If you can, be lucky, steer clear of disaster. That’s happiness for mortals.
[ΧΟΡΟΣ: χαίρετε: χαίρειν δ᾽ ὅστις δύναται
καὶ ξυντυχίᾳ μή τινι κάμνει
θνητῶν, εὐδαίμονα πράσσει.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Electra [Ἠλέκτρα], l. 1357ff (c. 420 BC) [tr. Wilson (2016)]
(Source)
Closing lines.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Farewell. And sure the man
To whom this wish is granted, he who feels
No pressure of calamity, is blest.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Farewell! Any mortal who is able to fare well, and is not worn down by any misfortune, achieves happiness.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Farewell; but whosoever of mortals is able to fare well, and bends not under some misfortune, fares happily.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Farewell! Ah, whosoe'er may know this blessing,
To fare well, never crushed 'neath ills oppressing,
Alone of mortals tastes abiding bliss.
[tr. Way (1896)]Farewell, farewell! -- But he who can so fare,
And stumbleth not on mischief anywhere,
Blessèd on earth is he!
[tr. Murray (1905)]Farewell! truly that mortal's is a happy lot, who can thus fare, unafflicted bv any woe.
[tr. Coleridge (1938 ed.)]Good bye. Blessed is the human who can live happily without the weight of suffering.
[tr. Theodoridis (2006)]Farewell. Any mortal who can indeed live well
without being ground down by misfortune,
that man will find his happiness.
[tr. Johnston (2009)]
Nothing is sweeter to children than a mother; love your mother, children, for no where is there a love as sweet as this.
[οὐκ ἔστι μητρὸς οὐδὲν ἥδιον τέκνοις•
ἐρᾶτε μητρός, παῖδες, ὡς οὐκ ἔστ’ ἔρως
τοιοῦτος ἄλλος ὅστις ἡδίων ἐρᾶν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Erectheus [Ἐρεχθεύς], frag. 358 (TGF) (422 BC)
(Source)
Ironically, Erechthus, as King of Athens, sacrifices one or more of the daughters to ensure the wartime survival of Athens.
Nauck frag. 358, Barnes frag. 35, Musgrave frag. 8. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:There's no affection can exceed what children
Feel for their Mother; let this love, my Sons,
Deep in your tender bosoms be implanted:
For no attachments equal kindred ties.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Children have nothing sweeter than their mother.
Love your mother children, there is no kind of love anywhere
Sweeter than this one to love.
[tr. @sentantiq (2015)]
Get not riches by unjust means, if thou wishest them to continue in thy family, for riches unjustly acquired quickly vanish.
[ἀδίκως δὲ μὴ κτῶ χρήματ᾽ ἣν βούλη πολὺν χρόνον μελάθροις ἐμμένειν” τὰ γὰρ κακῶς οἴκους ἐσελθόντ᾽ οὐκ ἔχει σωτηρίαν]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Erectheus [Ἐρεχθεύς], frag. 362, l. 11ff (TGF) (422 BC) [tr. Ramage (1864)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 362, Barnes frag. 1, Musgrave frag. 2. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translation:No ill-gotten wealth possess.
If in thy mansions long thou hop'st-to dwells
For there is no reliance on that gold
Which through injustice enters our abodes.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]
There’s brief enjoyment in dishonorable pleasure.
[βραχεῖα τέρψις ἡδονῆς κακῆς]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Erectheus [Ἐρεχθεύς], frag. 362, l. 23 (TGF) (422 BC) [tr. Collard/Cropp (2008)]
(Source)
Part of the advice from Erechtheus to his son.
Nauck frag. 362, Barnes frag. 1, Musgrave frag. 2. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:The delight which sinful pleasure affords is short.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]The enjoyment of unholy pleasure is of short duration.
[tr. Ramage (1895)]The enjoyment from a cheap pleasure is short.
[Source]
CHORUS: Around my javelin let the spider weave
Her subtle threads; while I, grown old in peace …[ΧΟΡΟΣ: κείσθω δόρυ μοι μίτον ἀμφιπλέκειν ἀράχναις·
μετὰ δ’ ἡσυχίας πολιῷ γήρᾳ συνοικῶν]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Erectheus [Ἐρεχθεύς], frag. 369 (TGF) (422 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1809)]
(Source)
Nauck frag. 369, Barnes frag. 53, Musgrave frag. 6. (Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:May my spear idle lie, and spiders spin
Their webs about it! May I, oh may I, pass
My hoary age in peace!
[tr. Wordsworth (1836)]Let my spear lie idle for spiders to weave their webs
on it. May I live in tranquillity, dwelling with grey
old age.
[tr. Cropp]
HECUBA:O gods, spare me the sight
of this thankless breed, these politicians
who cringe for favors from a screaming mob
and do not care what harm they do their friends,
providing they can please a crowd![ἙΚΆΒΗ: ἀχάριστον ὑμῶν σπέρμ᾿, ὅσοι δημηγόρους
ζηλοῦτε τιμάς· μηδὲ γιγνώσκοισθέ μοι,
οἳ τοὺς φίλους βλάπτοντες οὐ φροντίζετε,
ἢν τοῖσι πολλοῖς πρὸς χάριν λέγητέ τι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 254ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]
(Source)
To Ulysses/Odysseus, whom she had spared when he entered Troy as a spy. After Troy's fall, she is enslaved to him, and he intends to have her daughter, Polyxdora, sacrificed to honor fallen Achilles, to appease his fellow Greek conquerors.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:O ungrateful race
Of men, who aim at popular applause
By your smooth speeches; would to heav'n I ne'er
Had known you, for ye heed not how ye wound
Your friends, whene'er ye can say aught to win
The crowd.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Thankless is your race, as many of you as court honor from oratory before the populace; be ye not known to me, who care not to injure your friends, provided you say what is gratifying to the people.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]A thankful tribe you are, who fill your tongues
To popular grace; would I had never known you!
Of injuries to friends you reck not, if
Your fine speech wins the favour of the people.
[ed. Ramage (1864)]A thankless spawn, all ye that grasp at honour
By babbling to the mob! -- let me not know you,
Who injure friends, and nothing reck thereof,
So ye may something say to please the rabble!
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]O thankless brood, who jostle to be called
The people's leaders, may I not even know you!
Who turn a phrase to catch the mob's applause,
And care not if your phrase destroy your friend.
[tr. Sheppard (1924)]A thankless race! all you who covet honor from the mob for your oratory. Oh that you were unknown to me! you who harm your friends and think no more of it, if you can say a word to win the mob.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]May your breed turn their backs
On you and your like,
Smelling sweet up all men's noses.
You're no friend of mine.
Stay that way.
You shake the hands of all and sundry
Smiling as you spit
On your nearest and dearest
For the sake of pleasing everybody.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]What a graceless breed you are, you demagogues, grubbing for favours from the mob. Spare me your friendship. You'd harm your friends if that would please the mob.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Ah! All of you lot who are jealous of the honours received by political leaders are an ungrateful lot, the whole generation of you! I wish I had never known any of you. You don’t care how much you hurt your friends so long as you say something to pacify the masses.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]O gods save us from politicians and demagogues like you
who don’t care what harm you do as long as the multitudes
are pleased and the applause is loud.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]You are a thankless brood, you mob of wannabe
Politicians. I wish I didn’t know you
When you don’t care about harming your friends
As long as you say something the masses will like.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
HECUBA: For from darkness and the endearments of the night mortals have their keenest joys.
[ἙΚΆΒΗ: ἐκ τοῦ σκότου τε τῶν τε νυκτερησίων
φίλτρων μεγίστη γίγνεται βροτοῖς χάρις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 831ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1938)]
(Source)
Reminding a reluctant Agamemnon that he's been sleeping with her daughter, Cassandra, to enlist him in avenging the death of her son, Polydorus.
This passage of the text is elided in some translations. Where present, it is sometimes noted as a speculated or fragmentary insertion.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:In the soul of man
The endearments of the night, by darkness veil'd,
Create the strongest interest.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For from the secret shade, and from night's joys, the greatest delight is wont to spring to mortals.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]For of the darkness and the night's love-spells
Cometh on men the chiefest claim for thank.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]I know how men adore the dark of night.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]The greatest benefit to humans springs from the night and the delights of love within it.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]
HECUBA: It the duty of a good man to do good everywhere and always to punish the evil men.
[ἙΚΆΒΗ: ἐσθλοῦ γὰρ ἀνδρὸς τῇ δίκῃ θ᾿ ὑπηρετεῖν
καὶ τοὺς κακοὺς δρᾶν πανταχοῦ κακῶς ἀεί.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 844ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Theodoridis (2007)]
(Source)
Requesting that Agamemnon help her avenge the murder of her son, Polydorus.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For the good man's duty
Is to obey the dread behests of justice,
And ever punish those who act amiss.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For it belongs to a good man to minister justice, and always and in every case to punish the bad.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]For 'tis the good man's part to champion right,
And everywhere and aye to smite the wrong.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]This, this is virtue: to do justice still,
Requiting evil every way with ill.
[tr. Sheppard (1924)]For it is always a good man's duty to help the right, and to punish evil-doers wherever found.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Do your duty as a man of honor:
see justice done. Punish this murder.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]A good man is just, he'll punish the bad.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]A good man commits himself to justice and combats the wicked in whatever place.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Do your duty. Mete out justice.
Punish this heinous crime against gods and man.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]For it is right that a good man serve justice
And always do evil everywhere to evil men.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
HECUBA: Then no man on earth is truly free,
All are slaves of money or necessity.
Public opinion or fear of prosecution
forces each one, against his conscience,
to conform.ἙΚΆΒΗ:[φεῦ.
οὐκ ἔστι θνητῶν ὅστις ἔστ’ ἐλεύθερος·
ἢ χρημάτων γὰρ δοῦλός ἐστιν ἢ τύχης
ἢ πλῆθος αὐτὸν πόλεος ἢ νόμων γραφαὶ
εἴργουσι χρῆσθαι μὴ κατὰ γνώμην τρόποις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 864ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]
(Source)
When Agamemnon claims he cannot help her get revenge, as much as he'd like to if he were free to assist, because he has to pay attention to the sentiments of the Greek army.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Alas! there's no man free: for some are slaves
To gold, to fortune others, and the rest,
The multitude or written laws restrain
From acting as their better judgement dictates.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Alas! no mortal is there who is free. For either he is the slave of money or of fortune; or the populace of the city or the dictates of the law constrain him to adopt manners not accordant with his natural inclinations.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]Vain is the boast of liberty in man;
A slave to fortune, or a slave to wealth,
Or by the people or the laws restrain’d,
He dares not act the dictates of his will
[ed. Ramage (1864)]Ah, among mortals is there no man free!
To lucre or to fortune is he slave:
The city's rabble or the laws' impeachment
Constrains him into paths his soul abhors.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Ah! there is not in the world a single man free; for he is a slave either to money or to fortune, or else the people in their thousands or the fear of public prosecution prevents him from following the dictates of his heart.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Show me the mortal man who's really free.
He's either a slave to money or to chance.
Or the pressure of the mob or legal code
curbs him from acting as his will dictates.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Ah! But there’s no such thing as a free man! All men are slaves, Agamemnon! Slaves to money, to Fate, to the cries of the masses, to the written laws! They all stop him from doing what he wants.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Then no one is free
in this world. He’s chained to money, or to luck, or to majority
opinion, or to law. Any way you look at it,
he’s still a slave.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]Alas!
there is not in the world a single man who is free;
for he is a slave either to money or to fortune,
or else the mob, or fear of law, prevents him
from following the dictates of his heart.
[ed. Yeroulanos (2016)]There is no mortal who is free. Either he is a slave to money or fortune, or the city’s mob or its laws make him live otherwise than he would wish.
[tr. @sentantiq (2016)]Ha!
No one who is mortal is free --
We are either the slave of money or chance;
Or the majority of people or the city’s laws
Keep us from living by our own judgment.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
AGAMEMNON:For it touches all,
Cities and men alike, that deeds of ill
Find evil ends, and virtue prosper still.[ἈΓΑΜΈΜΝΩΝ:πᾶσι γὰρ κοινὸν τόδε,
ἰδίᾳ θ᾽ ἑκάστῳ καὶ πόλει, τὸν μὲν κακὸν
κακόν τι πάσχειν, τὸν δὲ χρηστὸν εὐτυχεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 900ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1924)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For 'tis the common interest of mankind.
Of every individual, every state.
That he who hath transgress'd should suffer ill.
And Fortune crown the efforts of the virtuous.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For this is a general principle among all, both individuals in private and states,
That the wicked man should feel vengeance, but the good man enjoy prosperity.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]For the general good
Of individuals and of states requires
That vengeance overtake th’ unrighteous deed,
And virtue triumph in her just reward.
[ed. Ramage (1864)]For all men's weal is this, --
Each several man's, and for the state, -- that ill
Betide the bad, prosperity the good.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]For this is the interest alike of citizen and state, that the wrong-doer be punished and the good man prosper.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]The common interests
of states and individuals alike demand
that good and evil receive their just rewards.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]Every man -- every slave -- shares one wish. May we each get what we deserve.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]I think the wish is common among men, as individuals and citizens, that bad men should suffer and good men thrive.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]It is everyone’s conviction, individually and collectively as a city, that the evil man suffers and the good man rejoices.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]It’s in the interests of both
states and individuals that evil suffers evil
and good fares well.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
POLYMESTOR:Shit.
Nothing is credible, not a good reputation
Nor that one who is lucky will not do badly in the end.
The gods churn these waters up back and forth
Mixing in confusion so that we worship them
In our ignorance.[ΠΟΛΥΜΉΣΤΩΡ:φεῦ·
οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδὲν πιστόν, οὔτ᾿ εὐδοξία
οὔτ᾿ αὖ καλῶς πράσσοντα μὴ πράξειν κακῶς.
φύρουσι δ᾿ αὐτὰ θεοὶ πάλιν τε καὶ πρόσω
ταραγμὸν ἐντιθέντες, ὡς ἀγνωσίᾳ
σέβωμεν αὐτούς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 956ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
(Source)
King Polymestor's entrance, lamenting to Hecuba that her city, Troy, has fallen, and her daughter as been sacrificed by the conquering Greeks. The lament is ironic, as he himself (secretly, he believes) killed Polydorus, Hecuba and Priam's youngest son, in order to steal the Trojan treasure left for his inheritance. This play is all about Hecuba's bloody (and justified?) revenge upon him and his children for this betrayal.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Alas! there's nought
To be relied on; fame is insecure.
Nor can the prosperous their enjoyments guard
Against a change of Fortune, for the Gods
Backward and forward turn her wavering wheel,
And introduce confusion in the world.
That we, because we know not will happen,
May worship them.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Alas! there is nothing secure, neither glory, nor when one is faring well is there a certainty that he will not fare ill. But the Gods mingle these things promiscuously to and fro, making all confusion, so that we through ignorance may worship them.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]Nought is there man may trust, nor high repute,
Nor hope that weal shall not be turned to woe:
But the Gods all confound, hurled forth and back,
Turmoiling them, that we through ignorance
May worship them.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Ah! there is nothing to be relied on; fair fame is insecure, nor is there any guarantee that prosperity will not be turned to woe. For the gods confound our fortunes, tossing them to and fro, and introduce confusion, so that our perplexity may make us worship them.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]What can we take on trust
in this uncertain life? Happiness, greatness,
pride -- nothing is secure, nothing keeps.
The inconsistent gods make chaos of our lives,
pitching us about with such savagery of change
that we, out of our anguish and uncertainty',
may turn to them.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]Misfortune, misfortune.
No one and nothing can be trusted,
Neither a good name nor good deed.
The gods play their games with us
We're here for their sport.
We worship them in our ignorance.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]Aaaahh! Nothing can be trusted, city and good name or that a man's good luck can't turn out bad. The gods stir life together back and forth adding confusion to the mix so we'll revere the gods out of uncertainty at what comes next.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Alas! There is no certainty in this world. Neither in one’s good name nor in one’s present fortune. No one can be certain that good fortune will not be replaced by bad. Such things are turned upside-down by the gods, sowing confusion so that we may, in our ignorance, worship them.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Oh, what can we count on in this life? Nothing, I say!
Not reputation or good fortune. The gods make it all
pitch and yaw, back and forth, until we’re seasick
and confused enough to worship them.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
CHORUS:The meeting place
Of debt to Justice and to the gods
Is a terrible, terrible place.ΧΟΡΟΣ:[τὸ γὰρ ὑπέγγυον
Δίκᾳ καὶ θεοῖσιν οὐ συμπίτνει:
ὀλέθριον ὀλέθριον κακόν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1028ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. @sentantiq (2020)]
(Source)
To Polymestor as he unknowingly goes to suffer Hecuba's bloody vengeance.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:For twofold ruin doth impend
O'er him who human laws pursue,
And righteous Gods indignant view.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For where the rites of hospitality coincide with justice, and with the Gods, on the villain who dares to violate these destructive, destructive indeed impends the evil.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]For wherever it cometh to pass that the rightful demand
Of justice's claim and the laws of the Gods be at one,
Then is ruinous bane for the sinner, O ruinous bane!
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]When the Gods and Justice meet,
And the Pledge that is forfeited,
The end is Ruin.
[tr. Sheppard (1924)]For the rights of justice and of the gods do not fall together; there is ruin full of death and doom.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Justice and the gods
exact the loan at last.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]When the gods call in their debt
and Justice wants your scalp as well,
better for you if you were dead
as your life will be one long hell.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Because when Justice and Heaven are both transgressed, there will be doom. Doom and more doom!
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Where justice and the gods converge, there’s a maelstrom.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
POLYMESTOR: What need
For talk? The sum of all the infamies
The tongues of men, past, present, and to come,
Ascribe to woman, I’ll endorse, and say
There’s no such monster bred on land or sea;
And none has dealings with their kind, but know it.ΠΟΛΥΜΉΣΤΩΡ: [ὡς δὲ μὴ μακροὺς τείνω λόγους,
εἴ τις γυναῖκας τῶν πρὶν εἴρηκεν κακῶς
ἢ νῦν λέγων ἔστιν τις ἢ μέλλει λέγειν,
1180ἅπαντα ταῦτα συντεμὼν ἐγὼ φράσω:
γένος γὰρ οὔτε πόντος οὔτε γῆ τρέφει
τοιόνδ᾽: ὁ δ᾽ αἰεὶ ξυντυχὼν ἐπίσταται.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1177ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1924)]
(Source)
King Polymestor -- who murdered Priam and Hecuba's youngest son, Polydorus, with him for safekeeping, in order to steal the Trojan treasury also entrusted to him -- complaining to Agamemnon about how Hecuba and the Trojan Women, out of revenge, killed his sons in turn and blinded him.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:To spare a long harangue.
The whole of what 'gainst woman hath been said
By those of antient times, is saying now.
Or shall be said hereafter, in few words
Will I comprise; nor ocean's waves, nor earth,
Nurture so vile a race, as he who most
Hath with the sex conversed, but knows too well.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]But that I may not extend my speech to a greater length, if any one of those of ancient times hath reviled women, or if any one doth now, or shall hereafter revile them, I will comprise the whole when I say, that such a race neither doth the sea nor the earth produce, but he who is always with them knows it best.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]To be brief,
If any in past times with severe taunts
Have censured women, if now any vents
His obloquies, or shall hereafter vent,
In one brief sentence I comprise the whole,
It is a breed, not all th’ extended earth,
Nor the sea’s ample depths produce the like;
This truth he feels the most who knows them best.
[ed. Ramage (1864)]Wherefore needeth many words?
Whoso ere now hath spoken ill of women,
Or speaketh now, or shall hereafter speak,
All this in one word will I close and say: --
Nor sea nor land doth nurture such a breed:
He knoweth, who hath converse with them most.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]But to spare you a lengthy speech, if any of the men of former times have spoken ill of women, if any does so now, or shall do so hereafter, I will say all this in one short sentence; for neither land or sea produces such a race, as whoever has had to do with them knows.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]On behalf of all those dead
who learned their hatred of women long ago,
for those who hate them now, for those unborn
who shall live to hate them yet, I now declare
my firm conviction:
neither earth nor ocean
produces a creature as savage and monstrous
as woman.
This is my experience.
I know that this is true.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]I'll say no more than this:
The old saying is true now
As ever was and will be.
They are a breed apart
On earth and on sea.
Any man in a woman's power
He knows that in his bones.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]Not to go on too long, if any man in the past, the present or the future said bad things about women, let me top them all and say: sea or land breeds nothing worse. Even a brief encounter proves it true.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]But let me spare you the many words: If any of the men from olden days or if any of them now, or in the future, will utter ill words against women, let me put all those words in one short sentence: Neither land nor sea produces such a race and whoever had any dealings with them knows this very well.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Let me tell you, if anyone in the past has spoken
ill of women, or speaks so now or will speak so
in the future, I’ll sum it up for him: Neither sea
nor land has ever produced a more monstrous
creature than woman. I say this for a fact.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
HECUBA: The clear actions of a man,
Agamemnon, should speak louder than any words.
good words should get their goodness from our lives
and nowhere else; the evil we do should show,
a rottenness that festers in our speech
and what we say, in capable of being glozed
with a film of pretty words.
There are men, I know,
sophists who make a science of persuasion,
glozing evil with the slick of loveliness;
but in the end a speciousness will show.
The imposters are punished; not one escapes
his death.[ἙΚΆΒΗ: Ἀγάμεμνον, ἀνθρώποισιν οὐκ ἐχρῆν ποτε
τῶν πραγμάτων τὴν γλῶσσαν ἰσχύειν πλέον:
ἀλλ᾽, εἴτε χρήστ᾽ ἔδρασε, χρήστ᾽ ἔδει λέγειν,
εἴτ᾽ αὖ πονηρά, τοὺς λόγους εἶναι σαθρούς,
καὶ μὴ δύνασθαι τἄδικ᾽ εὖ λέγειν ποτέ.
σοφοὶ μὲν οὖν εἰσ᾽ οἱ τάδ᾽ ἠκριβωκότες,
ἀλλ᾽ οὐ δύνανται διὰ τέλους εἶναι σοφοί,
κακῶς δ᾽ ἀπώλοντ᾽: οὔτις ἐξήλυξέ πω.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1186ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]
(Source)
Hecuba to Agamemnon, after Polymestor tried to defend his actions in murdering her son and stealing the Trojan treasure.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:O Agamemnon, never ought the tongue
To have a greater influence o'er mankind
Than actions; but whoever hath done well
Ought to speak well; and he whose deeds are base,
To use unseemly language, nor find means
By specious words to colour o'er injustice.
Full wise indeed are they to whom such art
Is most familiar: but to stand the test
Of time not wise enough; for they all perish,
Not one of them e'er scapes.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Agamemnon, it never were fitting among men that the tongue should have greater force than actions. But if a man has acted well, well should he speak; if on the other hand basely, his words likewise should be unsound, and never ought he to be capable of speaking unjust things well. Perhaps indeed they who have brought these things to a pitch of accuracy are accounted wise, but they can not endure wise unto the end, but perish vilely, nor has any one yet escaped this.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]Agamemnon, never should this thing have been,
That words with men should more avail than deeds,
But good deeds should with reasonings good be paired,
And caitiff deed be ranged by baseless plea,
And none avail to gloze injustice o'er.
There be whose craft such art hath perfected;
Yet cannot they be cunning to the end:
Foully they perish: never one hath 'scaped.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Agamemnon, never ought the tongues of men
To plead more eloquently than the truth.
Good men should prove good speakers, and the bad,
Their very argument grown rank, should find
No specious words to colour evil deeds.
Oh, they are strict professors of the art,
And they are wise; yet in the end of all,
Not wise enough. They perish. None escapes.
[tr. Sheppard (1924)]Never ought words to have outweighed deeds in this world, Agamemnon. No! if a man's deeds were good, so should his words have been; if, on the other hand, evil, his words should have been unsound, instead of its being possible at times to speak injustice well. There are, it is true, clever persons, who have made a science of this, but their cleverness cannot last for ever; a miserable end awaits them; no one ever yet escaped.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Agamemnon,
A man should talk as he acts.
Good speaks for itself --
The best make bad liars.
The opposite is also true,
Though it ought not to be.
Men with brains can conceal
Whatever they want concealed.
But the brain grows weary.
A bad end's in.
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]Agamemnon, men shouldn't believe a speech counts for far more than actions ever did. If a man is good in deed, he's good in word. But bad deeds make a man's word rotten, too, and he can't give his injustice a fair gloss. They're clever with their tongues so finely tuned but you couldn't call them clever in the end. Their punishment will come. No one escapes.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Never, Agamemnon, should words have greater sway for men than do their deeds. When a man does good, his words ought to be good; when he does evil then his words should be unsound. No one should speak well of injustice. About this last thing, there are those clever fellows who have performed it to perfection but they will all, in the end, be destroyed. None of them have escaped so far.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Agamemnon, never in the affairs of men
Should the tongue have more power than facts,
Rather, when someone acts well, he should speak well,
And if the opposite, his words should be rotten.
Glib rhetoric may win us over for a while,
but in the end the smooth talkers die foully.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
CHORUS: Those whose cause is just will never lack
good arguments.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: φεῦ φεῦ: βροτοῖσιν ὡς τὰ χρηστὰ πράγματα
χρηστῶν ἀφορμὰς ἐνδίδωσ᾽ ἀεὶ λόγων.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1238ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]
(Source)
Speaking of Hecuba's appeal to Agamemnon for justice. In some translations, this is marked for Coryphaeus (Chorus Leader)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:How doth a virtuous cause inspire the tongue
With virtuous language!
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Ah! Ah! How do good deeds ever supply to men the source of good words!
[tr. Edwards (1826)]Lo, how the good cause giveth evermore
To men occasion for good argument.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Ah! how a good cause always affords men an opening for a good speech.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Good words always start out from good deeds.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Did you hear that? See how a good cause gives mortals material for a good argument!
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]Just causes make fertile soil for strong arguments!
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
AGAMEMNON: Perhaps, for you, barbarians, it is easy to kill your guests but for us, Greeks, this is a thing of shame. How, then can I escape blame if I do not judge you guilty? I can’t do it. Since you could endure performing such a dishonourable deed, then you must also endure its awful consequences.
[ἈΓΑΜΈΜΝΩΝ: τάχ᾽ οὖν παρ᾽ ὑμῖν ῥᾴδιον ξενοκτονεῖν:
ἡμῖν δέ γ᾽ αἰσχρὸν τοῖσιν Ἕλλησιν τόδε.
πῶς οὖν σε κρίνας μὴ ἀδικεῖν φύγω ψόγον;
οὐκ ἂν δυναίμην. ἀλλ᾽ ἐπεὶ τὰ μὴ καλὰ
πράσσειν ἐτόλμας, τλῆθι καὶ τὰ μὴ φίλα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1247ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Theodoridis (2007)]
(Source)
Passing judgment on Polymestor for the death of Hecuba's son and theft of the Trojan treasure entrusted to him.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:Perhaps the murder of your guests seems light,
We Greeks esteem it base. If I acquit thee
How shall I scape reproach? Indeed, I cannot:
since thou hast dar'd to perpetrate the crime,
Endure the consequences.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Perhaps with you it is a slight thing to kill your guests; but with us Grecians this thing is abhorred. How then, in giving my decision that thou hast not injured, can I escape blame? I can not; but as thou hast dared to do things dishonorable, endure now things unpleasant.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]Haply with you guest-murder is as nought,
But to us which be Greeks foul shame is this.
How can I uncondemned adjudge thee guiltless?
I cannot. Forasmuch as thou hast dared
To do foul deeds, even drain thy bitter cup.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Perhaps among you it is a light thing to murder guests, but with us in Hellas it is a disgrace. How can I escape reproach if I judge you not guilty? I could not. No, since you endured your horrid crime, endure as well its painful consequence.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]Perhaps you think it is a trifling matter
to kill a guest.
We Greeks call it murder.
How, therefore, could I acquit you now
without losing face among men?
I could not do it.
You committed a brutal crime; therefore accept
the consequences of your act.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]Perhaps for lesser breeds it's no great thing to kill a guest, but to us Greeks it is. If I say you did no wrong I can't escape the censure and the blame that I'll incur. Since you were tough enough to do such deeds be tough enough to suffer the results.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Maybe you think
killing a guest -- in this case a child who’d been
put in your care -- is a small matter in the larger
scheme of things. But we Greeks think of it
as heinous murder. How could I rule you innocent
and maintain a shred of credibility? I can’t.
You committed a brutal crime; be prepared,
therefore, for a justly brutal punishment.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
CHORUS: Come away, dear ones, come away.
To the camp, to the place of the ships, to the sea,
To the strange new life of slavery,
For all are the slaves of Destiny.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: ἴτε πρὸς λιμένας σκηνάς τε, φίλαι,
τῶν δεσποσύνων πειρασόμεναι
μόχθων: στερρὰ γὰρ ἀνάγκη.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 1293ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1924)]
(Source)
Closing lines, as the Trojan women captives (including Hecuba) are taken back to Greece.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:To the haven go,
And to the tents, my friends, t'endure the toils
Our lords impose: for thus harsh fate enjoins.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Come, my friends, to the harbor, and the tents, to undergo the tasks imposed by our masters. For necessity is relentless.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]To the tents, O friends, to the haven fare;
The yoke of thraldom our necks must bear.
Fate knows not pity, fate will not spare.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Away to the harbour and the tents, my friends, to prove the toils of slavery! for such is fate's relentless hest.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]File to the tents,
file to the harbor.
There we embark
on life as slaves.
Necessity is harsh.
Fate has no reprieve.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]Go to the shoreline and our masters' tents. Find out from them what work we're forced to do. We've got no choice. No choice at all. We're slaves.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]Go, my friends! Go to the ports and to the tents, my friends! Go and taste the hardship of slavery!
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]-- To the harbor now. -- To the tents.
-- It is time to embark. -- It is time to board
our new lives as slaves. -- But the taste
is bitter. -- Necessity is hard.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
AGAMEMNON:But women?
Women overpower men?HECUBA:There is power
in numbers, and cunning makes us strong.ἈΓΑΜΈΜΝΩΝ: καὶ πῶς γυναιξὶν ἀρσένων ἔσται κράτος;
ἙΚΆΒΗ: δεινὸν τὸ πλῆθος σὺν δόλῳ τε δύσμαχον.
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Hecuba [Hekabe; Ἑκάβη], l. 883ff (c. 424 BC) [tr. Arrowsmith (1958)]
(Source)
Hecuba telling Agamemnon that she will rely on her fellow captive Trojan women to help exact her revenge on Polymestor.
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:AGAMΕΜΝΟΝ. How shall weak women; over men prevail?
HECUBA. Numbers are strong; add stratagem, resistless.
[tr. Potter (1781)]AGAMEMNON:How can the female sex
O'er men obtain a conquest?
HECUBA:Numbers strike
A foe with terror, and the wiles of women
Are hard to be withstood.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]AGAMEMNON: And how shall the victory over men be to women?
HECUBA: Numbers are powerful, with stratagem invincible.
[tr. Edwards (1826)]AGAMEMNON: How? -- women gain the mastery over men?
HECUBA: Mighty are numbers: joined with craft, resistless.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]AGAMEMNON: How are women to master men?
HECUBA: Numbers are a fearful thing, and joined to craft a desperate foe.
[tr. Coleridge (1938)]AGAMEMNON: How can women win against men?
HECUBA: Who can stand against a tribe
A wild tribe of wise women?
[tr. McGuinness (2004)]AGAMEMNON: How can you women overpower a man?
HECUBA: Enough of them would scare you soon enough and with cunning they're a force hard to resist.
[tr. Harrison (2005)]AGAMEMNON: But how will the women be able to overcome the strength of men?
HEKABE: Numbers, when joined with treachery, can cause great terror.
[tr. Theodoridis (2007)]AGAMEMNON:But how?
You are women. How will women defeat men?
HECUBA: There is unnerving strength in numbers, especially when
you add deceit.
[tr. Karden/Street (2011)]
CHORUS: It is right for women to stand by a woman’s cause.
[ΧΟΡΟΣ: γυναῖκα γὰρ δὴ συμπονεῖν γυναικὶ χρή.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 329 (412 BC) [tr. Lattimore (1956)]
(Source)
Encouraging Helen to learn more about her husband's fate from the prophetess Theonoë, and offering to go with her.(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Thus a woman ought
With friendly aid to share a woman's cares.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 370ff]For 'tis a woman's duty to exert
Her utmost efforts in a woman's cause.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]For it is meet that a woman should with a woman labor.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]For, truly, women ought to help each other.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]That woman woman's burden share, is meet.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]Women in woman's need must sympathise.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]For women ought to give each other helping hands.
[tr. Warner (1951)]Women ought to help each other.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]We are all women;
and it is right for us to shoulder one another's burdens.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]Women should support one another.
[tr. Davie (2002)]For 'tis a woman's bounden duty to share a sister's trouble.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]Women should stick together, and help each other out.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]We women must help one another.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]For woman must with woman toil.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]For, truly, women ought to help each other.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
CHORUS:But why
Be sure of the worst, and weep too soon?[ΧΟΡΟΣ: μὴ πρόμαντις ἀλγέων
προλάμβαν᾽, ὦ φίλα, γόους.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 338ff (412 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1954)]
(Source)
Counseling Helen not to catastrophize about her fate or that of her husband until she has talked with the prophetess Theonoë.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Do not, dear lady, do not thus, in thought
Presaging ill, anticipate thy griefs.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 370ff]Forbear these plaintive strains, my dearest queen,
Nor with presaging soul anticipate
Evils to come.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Do not, O dear one, anticipate lamentations like a prophetess of woes.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Do not be a prophetess of sorrow, dear friend, anticipating lamentation.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Nay, forestall not, O friend, lamentation
Prophetic of grief.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]Lady, till the truth appear,
Gentle lady, grieve not so.
Weep not till you know.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]Do not anticipate your grief,
dear lady, do not cry before you know.
[tr. Warner (1951)]Do not be prophetic of grief.
Do not, dear, anticipate sorrow.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]Dear lady, do not prophesy sorrow yet nor weep too soon!
[tr. Davie (2002)]Dear mistress mine, be not a prophetess of sorrow, forestalling lamentation.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]Wait till you're certain, don't jump to conclusions.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]Why prophesy grief, Helen?
Why cry before you have to?
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]As a prophetess of woe
do not, my dear, lament too soon.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]Do not be a prophetess of sorrow, dear friend [phila], anticipating lamentation.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
CHORUS: Who among men, though he search to the uttermost end,
can claim to have found what is meant
by god or the absence of god or of something between?
For he sees the works of the gods
turning now here and now there,
now backwards again through a fate
beyond calculation or forethought.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: ὅ τι θεὸς ἢ μὴ θεὸς ἢ τὸ μέσον,
τίς φησ᾽ ἐρευνήσας βροτῶν
μακρότατον πέρας εὑρεῖν
ὃς τὰ θεῶν ἐσορᾷ
δεῦρο καὶ αὖθις ἐκεῖσε
καὶ πάλιν ἀντιλόγοις
πηδῶντ᾽ ἀνελπίστοις τύχαις;]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 1137ff, Stasimon 1, Strophe 2 (412 BC) [tr. Warner (1951)]
(Source)
On Hera fooling Menelaus with an illusion of Helen.(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Was this then human, or divine?
Did it a middle nature share?
What mortal shall declare?
Who shall the secret bounds define?
When the gods work, we see their pow'r;
We see on their high bidding wait
The prosp'rous gales, the storms of fate:
But who their awefull cousils shall explore?
[tr. Potter (1783)]Whether the image was divine,
Drew from terrestrial particles its birth,
Or from the middle region, how define
By curious search, ye sons of earth?
Far from unravelling Heaven's abstruse intents,
We view the world tost to and fro,
Mark strange vicissitudes of joy and woe,
Discordant and miraculous events.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Whether it was a God, or not a God, or something between, who of mortals can aver, having searched out to the very end, so as to discover, who [indeed] perceives the counsels of the Gods flitting hither and thither in unexpected, contradictory turns of fate?
[tr. Buckley (1850)]What is god, or what is not god, or what is in between -- what mortal says he has found it by searching the farthest limit, when he sees divine affairs leaping here and there again and back, in contradictory and unexpected chances?
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]What mortal claims, by searching to the utmost limit, to have found out the nature of God, or of his opposite, or of that which comes between, seeing as he doth this world of man tossed to and fro by waves of contradiction and strange vicissitudes?
[tr. Coleridge, common variant]Who among men dare say that he, exploring
Even to Creation's farthest limit-line,
Ever hath found the God of our adoring,
That which is not God, or the half-divine --
Who, that beholdeth the decrees of Heaven
This way and that in hopeless turmoil swayed?
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]Who hath knowledge? Who so wise,
Can tell us what divinities
What spirits of a mingled birth,
Part of heaven and part of earth,
Shape our mortal destinies,
Weaving in the web of chance
Circumstance with circumstance?
Nay, the riddle baffles common wit:
Mortal reason may not compass it.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]You who with learned patience plod
Remotest realms of toilsome thought,
Can you by searching find out God,
Or bound his nature? Look at man!
From want to wealth, now forth, now back,
Now tossed from fame to infamy
By unforeseen, ambiguous chance!
[tr. Vellacott (1954), Antistrophe 2]What is god, what is not god, what is between man
and god, who shall say? Say he has found
the remote way to the absolute
that he has seen god, and come
back to us, and returned there, and come
back again, reason's feet leaping
the void? Who can hope for such fortune?
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]As for what is god, or not god, or something in between, what mortal having searched can say? The distant end of this enquiry has been found by the man who sees the gods’ fortunes leaping this way and that, and back again in twists of circumstance, contradictory and unforeseen.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Can any man
After profound research
Say he has the answers to these questions:
What is a god?
What is not a god?
Can there be something in between?
Is knowledge of the gods possible
When you see how gods behave -- their actions
Unstable
Undisciplined
Unpredictable
Randomly jumping now this way
Now that?
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]What mortal can possibly claim what is god, what isn’t, what’s in between?
The most a mortal can do is to understand that whatever the gods deliver will turn this way one minute, the other a minute later, only to turn back this way again, with unfathomable consequences.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]What is god or not god, and what lies in between,
What mortal could discover this?
The furthest limit of certainty one has found when she sees
matters divine leaping here and there, back again, chances contradictory, unexpected.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]What is god, or what is not god, or what is in between -- what mortal says he has found it by searching the farthest limit, when he sees divine affairs leaping here and there again and back, in contradictory and unexpected chances?
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
CHORUS: Fools who fain would carve a name
Of honour in the fields of fame,
Valiant in the press of war,
Men and fighters — fools they are!
How shall death and wounds and shame
Heal the world’s distrated life?
Vain endeavour! Strife of strife
Misbegotten bringeth no release,
Nor by conquest shall man conquer peace.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: ἄφρονες ὅσοι τὰς ἀρετὰς πολέμῳ
λόγχαισί τ᾽ ἀλκαίου δορὸς
κτᾶσθε, πόνους ἀμαθῶς θνα-
τῶν καταπαυόμενοι:
εἰ γὰρ ἅμιλλα κρινεῖ νιν
αἵματος, οὔποτ᾽ ἔρις
λείψει κατ᾽ ἀνθρώπων πόλεις]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 1151ff, Stasimon 1, Antistrophe 2 (412 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1925)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Think you, fond men, whose martial pride
Glows 'midst the bleeding ranks of war,
By the couragous spear
The strife of mortals to decide?
Vain are your thoughts: should rage abhor'd
That glories in the purple flood,
The contest only end with blood,
Unsheath'd through angry states would flame the sword.
[tr. Potter (1783)]Frantic are ye who seek renown
Amid the horrors of th' embattled field,
Who masking guile beneath a laurel crown
With nervous arm the falchion wield,
Not slaughtered thousands can your fury state.
If still success the judgment guide,
If bloody battle right and wrong decide,
Incessant strive must vex each rival state.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Foolish ye, as many as obtain [the renown of] valor by war, foolishly resting form the toils of mortals in the spears of valiant war. For if the contest of blood is to determine [men's quarrels], never will strife leave the cities of men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]You are fools, who try to win a reputation for virtue through war and marshalled lines of spears, senselessly putting an end to mortal troubles; for if a bloody quarrel is to decide it, strife will never leave off in the towns of men.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]O fools! all ye who try to win the meed of valour through war and serried ranks of chivalry, seeking thus to still this mortal coil, in senselessness; for if bloody contests are to decide, there will never be any lack of strife in the towns of men.
[tr. Coleridge (alt.)]Madmen, all ye who strive for manhood's guerdons
Battling with shock of lances, seeking ease
Senselessly so from galling of life's burdens!
Never, if blood be arbitress of peace,
Strife between towns of men shall find an ending.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]Madness it is to attempt to find virtue in war
and the blades of the spear in the fight,
so ignorantly to relieve the misfortunes of men.
For if a contest of blood is the arbiter, then there will always
be strife in the cities of men.
[tr. Warner (1951)]You who in earnest ignorance
Would check the deeds of lawless men,
And in the clash of spear on spear
Gain honour -- you are all stark mad!
If men, to settle each dispute
Must needs compete in bloodshed, when
Shall violence vanish, hate be soothed,
Or men and cities live in peace?
[tr. Vellacott (1954), Strophe 2]Mindless, all of you, who in the strength of spears
and the tearing edge win your valors
by war, thus stupidly trying
to halt the grief of the world.
For if bloody debate shall settle
the issue, never again
shall hate be gone out of the cities of men.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]What fools you are, all who seek to gain honour in war and the clash of spear on spear, stupidly trying to solve men’s troubles by death! If they are to be settled by contest of blood, never will strife end among the cities of men.
[tr. Davie (2002)]You are mad,
You men
Who think that war's
The proof of manhood,
Squabbling with spears and lances --
A futile way
To solve man's problems.
If we settle things
By seeing who can bleed the most,
War will always
Haunt our cities.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]Men! What fools they are when they look for glory with spears on the harsh battlefield!
How foolish your efforts to end men’s pains through slaughter!
If it is blood you wish to be the judge of right or wrong in the arguments between men, then war will never leave the cities.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]You are fools who would acquire virtue in war
and sharpened point of mighty spear --
stupidly coming to terms with toil -- but your death is the price.
And if a conflict of blood decide, then the strife never will
forsake the cities of mankind.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]You are fools, who try to win a reputation for virtue [aretē] through war and marshalled lines of spears, senselessly putting an end to mortal troubles [ponos]; for if a bloody quarrel is to decide [krinein] it, strife [eris] will never leave off in the cities [polis] of men
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
CHORUS: Why have the sons of Priam
Received each his portion in chambers of quiet earth,
When reasonable words could have solved the quarrel for Helen?
Now they live deep in the lap of Death;
And flames leaping like Zeus’s thunderbolt
Have levelled their walls with dust.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: ᾇ Πριαμίδος γᾶς ἔλαχον θαλάμους,
ἐξὸν διορθῶσαι λόγοις
1160σὰν ἔριν, ὦ Ἑλένα.
νῦν δ᾽ οἳ μὲν Ἅιδᾳ μέλονται κάτω,
τείχεα δὲ φλογμὸς ὥστε Διός ἐπέσυτο φλόξ,
ἐπὶ δὲ πάθεα πάθεσι φέρεις
† ἀθλίοις συμφοραῖς αἰλίνοις.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 1158ff, Stasimon 1, Antistrophe 2 (412 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1954), Strophe 2]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Outrageous to destroy
The spear hath desolation spread,
With slaughter stain'd the widow'd bed,
And desolated Troy.
Yet well might Reason's suasive charms
Have made each warring foe a friend:
But many in the shock of arms
To Pluto's dreary realms descend;
Fires, like the flames of Jove, the walls surround,
And Ilium's ramparts smoke upon the ground.
[tr. Potter (1783), Antistrophe 2]Hence from her home departs each Phrygian wife,
O Helen, when the cruel strife
Which from thy chamors arose,
One conference might have closed: now myriads dwell
With Pluto in the shades of Hell,
And flames, as when Jove's vengeance throws
The bolt, have caught her towers and finished Ilion's woes.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Which left the dwellings of the land of Priam, when it was in their power to decide by words the strife concerning thee, O Helen. But now they indeed are the care of Hades below, and fire, like the lightning of Jove, has fallen on their walls.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]By it [strife] they won as their lot bed-chambers of Priam's earth, when they could have set right by discussion the strife over you, O Helen. And now they are below in Hades' keeping, and fire has darted onto the walls like the bolt of Zeus.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]The maidens of the land of Priam left their bridal bowers, though arbitration might have put thy quarrel right, O Helen. And now Troy's sons are in Hades' keeping in the world below, and fire hath darted on her walls, as darts the flame of Zeus.
[tr. Coleridge (alt.)]Lo, how its storm o'er homes of Ilium brake,
Yea, though fair words might once have wrought amending,
Helen, of wrong, of quarrel for thy sake!
Now are her sons in depths of Hades lying;
Flame o'er her walls leapt, like Zeus' levin-glare.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]So to Priam's people came
Madness in the midst of ease,
Lust of battle. No man sought
Peace by suasion. Still they fought
For Helen's sake, and still from Greece
Thronged the fighters. Low they lie.
Death has won the victory.
The bolt of Zeus struck home. The towers of Troy
Perished for Helen's sake. Yet Helen hath no joy.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]It was that fate came to the homes
of Priam's land when, Helen, that strife of yours
still could have bene set aright by argument.
And now there are some in Hades' power
below, and upon the walls, like the flame of the lightning,
the fire has crept.
[tr. Warner (1951)]By hate they won the chambers of Priam's city;
they could have solved by reason and words
the quarrel, Helen, for you.
Now these are given to the Death God below.
On the walls the flame, as of Zeus, lightened and fell.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]They received each one his portion of Trojan earth to slumber in, when reasoned argument might have solved the dispute you roused, Helen. Now they lie deep in Hades' lap, and Troy's walls, as if struck by Zeus' fiery thunderbolt, lie levelled.
[tr. Davie (2002)]This time the Trojans won
The boxes, underground --
They could have talked,
Settled their quarrel over you, Helen,
With words.
Now they march in the ranks of Death,
While searing flames destroy their walls --
Downed by a force like
Zeus' lightning.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]War, Helen, brought them their death on Priam’s land, when they argued about you, yet they could have resolved their differences about you with words alone.
Now they are in the hands of Hades!
Flames, shot like arrows from Zeus have spread across their towers.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]Strife it was that won them chambers in Priam’s soil
They could have straightened out with words,
your quarrel, O Helen, ah!
As things are, Hades below welcomes them
and a deadly fire, like Zeus’, swept over the walls of Troy.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018), Antistrophe B]By it they won as their lot bed-chambers of Priam’s earth, when they could have set right by discussion the strife [eris] over you, O Helen. And now they are below in Hādēs’ keeping, and fire has darted onto the walls like the bolt of Zeus.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
MESSENGER: Nothing is more useful to mankind than a prudent distrust.
[ἌΓΓΕΛΟΣ:σώφρονος δ᾽ ἀπιστίας
οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδὲν χρησιμώτερον βροτοῖς.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 1617ff (412 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1891)]
(Source)
Informing Theoklymenos that Helen and Menelaos have escaped to Greece.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Nought to man's welfare more
Avails, than disbelief by prudence rul'd.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 1750ff]There's nought more beneficial to mankind
Than wise distrust.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]But there is naught more useful to mortals than a wise distrust.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Nought is of more avail
For mortals' need than wise mistrustfulness.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]My lord, I fear
There are advantages in honest doubt.
That lesson of my tale at least is clear.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]I say there's nothing of more use
to mortals than a wise suspension of belief.
[tr. Warner (1951)]Well, there is one thing every man has to learn: it is, not to be too trustful.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]Man's most valuable trait
is a judicious sense of what not to believe.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]Knowing when not to believe someone ...
now that's the kind of wisdom we could use!
[tr. Meagher (1986)]To sum up, there’s nothing more useful in life than showing a healthy scepticism.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Ah! there is naught more serviceable to mankind than a prudent distrust.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]Seems you were a bit naive, sir:
There's nothing more useful in life
Than a good suspicious nature.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]Nothing is more useful than a prudent doubt.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]Nothing is more useful to man than thoughtful skepticism.
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]Nothing is more useful to mankind than a balanced [sōphrōn] distrust.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
CHORUS: Many are the forms of what is unknown.
Much that the gods achieve is surprise.
What we look for does not come to pass;
God finds a way for what none foresaw.
Such was the end of this story.[ΧΟΡΟΣ: πολλαὶ μορφαὶ τῶν δαιμονίων,
πολλὰ δ᾽ ἀέλπτως κραίνουσι θεοί:
καὶ τὰ δοκηθέντ᾽ οὐκ ἐτελέσθη,
τῶν δ᾽ ἀδοκήτων πόρον ηὗρε θεός.
τοιόνδ᾽ ἀπέβη τόδε πρᾶγμα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 1688ff, final lines (412 BC) [tr. Lattimore (1956)]
(Source)
See here for more discussion about Euripides' "standard" choral coda.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:With various hands the gods dispense our fates;
Now show'ring various blessings, which our hopes
Dared not aspire to; now controuling ills
We deem'd inevitable: thus the god
To these hath giv'n an end exceeding thought.
Such is the fortune of this happy day.
[tr. Potter (1783)]A thousand shapes our varying fates assume
The gods perform what least expect,
And oft the things for which we fondly hoped
Come not to pass; but Heaven still finds a clue
To guide our steps through live's perplexing maze,
And thus doth this important business end.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Many are the forms of things connected with the deities, and many things the Gods perform contrary to our expectations. But those things which we looked for are not accomplished; but the God hath brought to pass things not looked for. Thus has this matter turned out.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Many are the forms of divinities, and many things the gods bring to pass unhoped for. And what was expected has not been fulfilled; for what was not expected, a god finds a way. Such was the result of this action.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Many are the forms the heavenly will assumes; and many a thing God brings to pass contrary to expectation: that which was looked for is not accomplished, while Heaven finds out a way for what we never hoped; e'en such has been the issue here.
[tr. Coleridge (alt.)]O the works of the Gods -- in manifold wise they reveal them:
Manifold things unhoped for the Gods to accomplishment bring.
And the things that we looked for, the Gods deign not to fulfil them;
And the paths undiscerned of our eyes, the Gods unseal them.
So fell this marvelous thing.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]In diverse ways the gods fulfil
The secret purpose of their will.
We say, this thing shall surely be,
And lo! it cometh not. We say
This is denied by destiny;
God findeth out a way.
So hath this story's strange conclusion shown,
The secrets of the gods rest still unknown.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]Many indeed the shapes and changes are
of heavenly beings. Many things the gods
achieve beyond our judgment. What we thought
is not confirmed, and what we thought not god
contrives. And so it happens in this story.
[tr. Warner (1951)]The gods reveal themselves in many forms,
Bring many matters to surprising ends.
The things we thought would happen do not happen;
The unexpected God makes possible:
And this is what has happened here to-day.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]Heaven has many faces.
The gods bring to pass many things we never hoped for,
While what we wait to see happen ... never does.
And for what we never even dreamed could be,
God finds a way.
And so it happened here today.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]Many are the forms the plans of the gods take and many the things they accomplish beyond men's hopes. What men expect does not happen; for the unexpected heaven finds a way. And so it has turned out here today.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Many are the forms the heavenly will assumes; and many a thing God brings to pass contrary to expectation: that which was looked for is not accomplished, while Heaven finds out a way for what we never hoped; e'en such as been the issue here.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]The deeds of the gods take many forms.
And gods often perform deeds even beyond our hopes.
Our wishes might not be granted but the gods will find ways of achieving what we never thought was achievable.
Such was the path of our story.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]Divinities take many shapes;
the gods accomplish things surpassing hope.
Expected things don’t come to pass;
and God finds ways for unexpected things.
And that’s how this affair turned out.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]Many are the forms of divinities, and many things the gods bring to pass unhoped for. And what was expected has not reached a telos; for what was not expected, a god finds a way. Such was the result of this action.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
HELEN: From the moment my mother bore me I was pointed at for a freak. It’s not usual in Hellas or anywhere else for a woman to produce her young enclosed in a white shell — which is the way Leda is said to have borne me, with Zeus for my father!
[ἙΛΈΝΗ: ἆρ᾽ ἡ τεκοῦσά μ᾽ ἔτεκεν ἀνθρώποις τέρας;
γυνὴ γὰρ οὔθ᾽ Ἑλληνὶς οὔτε βάρβαρος
τεῦχος νεοσσῶν λευκὸν ἐκλοχεύεται,
ἐν ᾧ με Λήδαν φασὶν ἐκ Διὸς τεκεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 256ff (412 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1954)]
(Source)
The egg-laying passage here is bracketed or elided by some translators, indicating it is possibly spurious or not in all manuscript traditions.Leda was Helen's mother, with Zeus, the father, having seduced/raped her while disguised as a swan. Leda then lay a clutch of eggs (one with Helen, one containing the twins Castor and Pollux, another Clytemnestra). The ravishment of Leda is a common theme in art; showing the resulting eggs is much more rare (da Vinci being an exception).
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Was not my birth a prodigy to men?
For never Grecian or Barbaric dame
From the white shell her young ones gave to light,
As Leda brought me forth, fame says, to Jove.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 286ff]Did not my mother, as a prodigy
Which wondering mortals gaze at, bring me forth?
For neither Greician nor barbaric dame
Till then produced an egg, in which her children
Enveloped lay, as they report, from Jove
Leda engendered.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Did not my mother bring me forth as a prodigy to men? For neither Greek nor barbarian woman has given birth to a white vessel of younglings, in which they say Leda begot me by Jove.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]Did my mother bear me as a wonder to mankind? [For no other woman, Hellene or barbarian, gives birth to a white vessel of chicks, in which they say Leda bore me to Zeus.]
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Bore not my mother a portent unto men?
For never Hellene nor barbarian dame
Brought forth white vial of a fledgling brood,
Wherein to Zeus men say that Leda bare me.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]My very birth
A portent -- for it is not known in nature
That any woman, Greek or barbarous,
Should bear her children as they say that I
Was born to Zeus by Leda, cased about
In a white hollow shell.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]And did my mother bear me as some kind of monster?
For certainly no Greek or foreign woman yet
travailed with the white circle of an egg for birds,
as Leda bore me, so they say, from Zeus.
[tr. Warner (1951)]Was I born a monster among mankind?
[No woman, neither in Greece nor yet in Barbary,
is hatched from the white envelope that contains young birds,
yet thus Leda bore me to Zeus, or so they say.]
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]Was I born to be some kind of freak,
carrion for men's scavenging eyes?
I am a freak ... a monster,
and I lead a monstrous life.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]Did my mother bring me into the world for people to stare at as a freak? My life has certainly been grotesque.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Did not my mother bear me to be a monster to the world? For no woman, Hellene or barbarian, gives birth to babes in eggs inclosed, as they say Leda bare me to Zeus.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]I've been handicapped -- to judge by the way people stare --
Since birth; and all my life I've lived under the shadow
Of my deformity.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]My mother has brought me to this world to be nothing more than a monstrous freak! No woman -- neither Greek nor barbarian -- has given birth to the egg of a white bird, yet, they say, that this is what my mother has done. Leda, they say, delivered me inside the shell of a bird’s egg. Zeus is my father.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]Did my mother bear me as a freak among mankind?
No woman -- no Greek, no barbarian -- gives birth to
her baby in an eggshell cask,
they say Leda bore me to Zeus.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]Did my mother bear me as a wonder to mankind? [For no other woman, Hellene or barbarian, gives birth to a white vessel of chicks, in which they say Leda bore me to Zeus.]
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
HELEN: When a man broods on a single misfortune and feels the gods are against him, though his suffering is real, it can be borne; but I am crushed by innumerable blows at once.
[ἙΛΈΝΗ: ὅστις μὲν οὖν ἐς μίαν ἀποβλέπων τύχην
πρὸς θεῶν κακοῦται, βαρὺ μέν, οἰστέον δ᾽ ὅμως:
ἡμεῖς δὲ πολλαῖς συμφοραῖς ἐγκείμεθα.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 267ff (412 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1954)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:He whom the gods afflict,
His sad thoughts though a single suffering claims,
Feels its weight heavy, yet perforce must bear it:
But I with many suffering am weigh'd down.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 300ff]Whoever therefore, with one single species
Of misery is afflicted by the gods,
Although the weight of Heaven's chastising hand
Be grievous, may with fortitude endure
Such visitation, but by many woes
Am I oppressed.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Whosoever therefore, looking to one fate only, is ill-treated by the Gods, it is a thing heavy indeed, but may nevertheless be borne; but I lie amidst many calamities.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]When someone looks to one event only, and is ill-treated by the gods, it is hard, but all the same it can be borne. But I am involved in countless troubles.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Whoso, on one chance centering all his hopes,
Is stricken of God, hard though it be, may bear it;
But I -- I am whelmed in many miseries.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]If in some one respect the gods afflict us,
It is not easy, yet we grieve with patience.
But grief on grief is multiplied in me.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]When a man looks for one thing only, and the gods
take that thing from him, it is hard, but bearable.
On me, however, many things have come at once.
[tr. Warner (1951)]He who sees from the gods a single strain of luck,
all bad, has a sad lot, but can endure it still.
More complex is the sorrow in which I am involved.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]To fix your every hope on one thing
and then in that to be disappointed by the gods,
is admittedly a heavy blow.
But it is bearable.
Not so with me.
My misfortunes are many.
Blow after blow, they beat me down.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]When you set your sights on one ambition and then are cheated of this by the gods, it is hard to bear but must be endured.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Now, if a man doth turn his eyes to a single phase of fortune, and meets ill-usage at heaven's hands, 'tis hard no doubt; but still it can be borne; but I in countless troubles am involved.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]When someone is victimized by the gods in one thing,
It's hard, but it can be endured.
I am beset with problems on all sides.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]When a man has a plan in mind but is hindered by the will of the gods, well, that’s a hard thing to cope with but it can be endured but I -- I have fallen victim to many misfortunes.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]When someone faces a crisis from the gods, and is distressed,
it’s a burden, yes -- but bearable all the same.
But me, I’m wrapped in many sorrows.
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]When someone looks to one event only, and is ill-treated by the gods, it is hard, but all the same it can be borne. But I am involved in countless troubles.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
HELEN: Men think me wicked, though I did no wrong:
And for the innocent to bear the load
Of guilt is worse than wickedness itself.[ἙΛΈΝΗ: πρῶτον μὲν οὐκ οὖσ᾽ ἄδικος, εἰμὶ δυσκλεής:
καὶ τοῦτο μεῖζον τῆς ἀληθείας κακόν,
ὅστις τὰ μὴ προσόντα κέκτηται κακά.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 270ff (412 BC) [tr. Sheppard (1925)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:First, though my life is pure from guilt, my name
Is infamous; this ill, this charge of crimes
From which the soul is free, is more severe
Than what from truth arises.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 304ff]First of all exposed
To slanderous tongues, although I ne'er have erred.
It were a lesser evil e'en to sin
Than be suspected falsely.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]First indeed, not being unjust, I am in ill repute; and this is a greater evil than the truth, when any one is charged with evils he does not possess.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]First, although I never acted wrongly, my good name is gone. And this trouble is stronger than the reality, if someone incurs blame for wrongs that are not his own.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]First, an ill name, though I am clean of sin;
And worse is this than suffering for just cause,
To bear the burden of sins that are not ours.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]First, I have lost my name, thought I have done no wrong;
and it is worse than suffering what one deserves
if one must suffer for the things one never did.
[tr. Warner (1951)]In the first place, though I am innocent, my name is a byword of reproach; and if there is any worse fate than suffering for real crimes, it is suffering for crimes that were never committed.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]I have done nothing wrong and yet my reputation
is bad, and worse than a true evil is it to bear
the burden of faults that are not truly yours.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]First of all, I am blameless,
and yet I am blamed.
It is easier to bear what belongs to you
than what does not.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]Firstly, I have done nothing wrong and yet my name is reviled. When someone is punished though innocent of crime, it is a worse affliction than getting his just deserts.
[tr. Davie (2002)]First, although I never sinned, my good name is gone. And this is a grief beyond the reality, if a man incurs blame for sins that are not his.
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]First, I am not wicked, but people think I am.
There's nothing worse than being innocent,
But treated as guilty.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]To begin with, my good reputation has been destroyed though I have done nothing wrong, and there’s nothing worse than to be burdened by the shame which one has not earned.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]First, though I’ve done nothing wrong, my name is loathed.
It’s so much worse to be scorned for things you haven’t done
than to suffer honest charges!
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]First, although I never acted wrongly, my good name is gone. And this trouble [kakon] is stronger than the truth [alētheia], if someone incurs blame for evils [kaka] that are not his own. [tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
MENELAUS:But so it has to be.
For the saying is not mine, but it was wisely said,
that nothing has more strength than dire necessity.[ΜΕΝΕΛΈΩΣ:ἀλλ᾽ ἀναγκαίως ἔχει.
λόγος γάρ ἐστιν οὐκ ἐμός, σοφὸν δ᾽ ἔπος,
δεινῆς ἀνάγκης οὐδὲν ἰσχύειν πλέον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Helen [Ἑλένη], l. 512ff (412 BC) [tr. Lattimore (1956)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:But hard necessity constrains: not mine
This saying, but the sentence of the sage,
Nothing is stronger than Necessity.
[tr. Potter (1783), l. 560ff]But thus hath Fate ordained.
Nor is it my assertion, but a maxim
Among the wise established, that there's nought
More powerful than the dread behests of Fate.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]But it needs must be. For it is not my saying, but the saying of wise men: naught has a greater power than terrible necessity.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]But it is necessary. The saying is not mine, but it is a wise word: nothing is stronger than dreadful necessity.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Yet it needs must be.
Not mine the saying is, but wisdom's saw --
"Stronger is nought than dread Necessity."
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]There's no other way.
"Needs must," the proverb says; and so I say
"Needs must," and my necessities obey.
[tr. Sheppard (1925)]But necessity compels.
It is not my saying, but it is a weighty one,
that nothing has more strength than hard necessity.
[tr. Warner (1951)]Well, I must. Nothing is stronger than necessity -- I did not invent that proverb, but it’s true none the less, and very well known.
[tr. Vellacott (1954)]But this is what things have come to.
He spoke wisely -- it wasn't I -- who said:
there is no arm strong enough to bend back dread necessity.
[tr. Meagher (1986)]But there is no alternative. It is not my own saying, but a wise man's none the less, that nothing is as strong as stern necessity.
[tr. Davie (2002)]Still needs must I. Yea, this is no saying of mine, but a word of wisdom, "Naught in might exceedeth dread necessity."
[tr. Athenian Society (2006)]But -- "beggars can't be choosers". Hardly an original proverb,
But wise words indeed.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]Still, I must bow to necessity. A wise man, not I, once said that there’s no mightier force than dire necessity.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]Still, ‘necessity offers us no choice’.
I didn’t make that up, but it sounds smart.
[Ambrose et al. (2018)]But it is necessary. The saying is not mine, but it is a wise [sophon] word [epos]: nothing is stronger than dreadful [deinē] necessity.
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]
NURSE:Surely this doth bind,
Through all ill days, the hurts of humankind,
When man and woman in one music move.[ΤΡΟΦΌΣ: ἥπερ μεγίστη γίγνεται σωτηρία,
ὅταν γυνὴ πρὸς ἄνδρα μὴ διχοστατῇ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 14ff (431 BC) [tr. Murray (1906)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Hence bliss supreme arises, when the bond
Of concord joins them.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]This is the state of firmest happiness,
When from the husband no discordant will
The wife estranges.
[tr. Potter (1814)]In which the better part of safety lies
That the woman should not differ from the man.
[tr. Webster (1868)]The greatest safeguard this when wife and husband do agree.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Which is the surest support of conjugal happiness, when the wife is not estranged from the husband.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Which is the chief salvation of the home,
When wife stands not at variance with her lord.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]This is indeed the greatest salvation of all --
For the wife not to stand apart from the husband.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Happy is the house
Where the man and the woman love and are faithful.
[tr. Jeffers (1946)]And in a marriage that's the saving thing,
When a wife obediently accepts her husband's will.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]This, to my mind, is a woman’s greatest safety:
Not to take the opposite side from her husband.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]This it is that most rescues life from trouble, when a woman is not at variance with her husband.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]This is what keeps a marraige intact more than anything, when a husband can count on complete support from his wife.
[tr. Davie (1996)]That, you see, is how a woman earns her security: never argue with your husband!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]This is what brings the greatest stability at home:
when a woman does not challenge her husband.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]That’s when life is most secure and safe,
when woman and her husband stand as one.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]This provides the greatest security,
when a wife doesn't oppose her husband.
[tr. Kovacs / Kitzinger (2016)]That is the best security,
when the wife does not quarrel with her husband.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]This is the greatest safety [sōtēriā], when wife does not stand apart from husband.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
CHORUS: The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable
is that which rages in the place of dearest love.[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: Δεινή τις ὀργὴ καὶ δυσίατος πέλει,
ὅταν φίλοι φίλοισι συμβάλωσ᾽ ἔριν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 520ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
Of the estrangement Jason and Medea. Some translations say this line is given by the chorus leader, not the chorus as a whole.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:How sharp their wrath, how hard to be appeas'd
When friends with friends begin the cruel strife.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]When friends with friends at variance kindle strife,
Fierce is their anger and immedicable.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Terrible is that anger, and to assuage
Most difficult, when friends with friends join battle.
[tr. Webster (1868)]There is a something terrible and past all cure, when quarrels arise 'twixt those who are near and dear.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Dreadful is that anger and irremediable, when friends with friends kindle strife.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Awful is wrath, and past all balm of healing,
When they that once loved clash in feud of hate.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Dire and beyond all healing is the hate
When hearts that loved are turned to enmity.
[tr. Murray (1906)]It is a strange form of anger, difficult to cure, when two friends turn upon each other in hatred.
[tr. Warner (1944)]A terrible thing is temper and knows no cure
When dear ones wrangle and fall to fighting each other.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Terrible and hard to heal is the wrath that comes when kin join in conflict with kin.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]Terrible is the anger and almost beyond cure, when strife severs those whom love once joined.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Friend against friend! An anger most implacable!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Anger is frightening and hard to remedy
when loved ones join in strife with loved ones.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]When members of a family fight like this,
rage pushes them beyond all compromise.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]It is a deinē anger and past all cure, whenever philoi fall to strife [eris] with philoi.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: I think the unjust man who can speak cleverly
incurs the greatest penalty for, feeling confident
to cloak injustice in fair speech,
he dares the utmost villainy.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: ἐμοὶ γὰρ ὅστις ἄδικος ὢν σοφὸς λέγειν
πέφυκε, πλείστην ζημίαν ὀφλισκάνει:
γλώσσῃ γὰρ αὐχῶν τἄδικ᾽ εὖ περιστελεῖν
τολμᾷ πανουργεῖν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 580ff (431 BC) [tr. Ewans (2022)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:In my judgement, he
Who tramples on the laws, but can express
His thoughts with plausibility, deserves
Severest punishment: for that injustice
On which he glories, with his artful tongue.
That he a fair appearance can bestow,
He dares to practise.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Th' injurious man, whose tongue
Flows with pernicious rhetoric, I hold
To merit the severest punishment.
For confident his speech can varnish o'er
The blackest deeds, his craft dares venture on them.
[tr. Potter (1814)]For him who does wrong and is wise to gloze it
I hold worth worser doom. For making sure
He'll show wrong gracious with his tongue, he's bold
To every crime.
[tr. Webster (1868)]To my mind, whoso hath skill to fence with words in an unjust cause, incurs the heaviest penalty; for such an one, confident that he can cast a decent veil of words o'er his injustice, dares to practise it.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]In my judgment, whatever man being unjust, is deeply skilled in argument, merits the severest punishment. For vaunting that with his tongue he can well gloze over injustice, he dares to work deceit.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]For in my sight the villain subtle-tongued
Getteth himself for gain exceeding loss,
Who, confident his tongue can gloze the wrong,
Becomes a bold knave.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]To me it seemeth, when
A crafty tongue is given to evil men
'Tis like to wreck, not help them. Their own brain
Tempts them with lies to dare and dare again,
Till .... [tr. Murray (1906)]I think that the plausible speaker
Who is a villain deserves the greatest punishment.
Confident in his tongue’s power to adorn evil,
He stops at nothing.
[tr. Warner (1944)]To me, a wicked man who is also eloquent
Seems the most guilty of them all. He’ll cut your throat
As bold as brass, because he knows he can dress up murder
In handsome words.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]For me, the man who is a villain, but clever
In speech, would have to pay the highest fine;
Confident of cloaking his villainy in fine words,
He dares anything.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]To my mind, the plausible speaker who is a scoundrel incurs the greatest punishment. For since he is confident that he can cleverly cloak injustice with his words, his boldness stops at no knavery.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]For in my eyes the criminal with a gift for speaking deserves the worst of punishments. So confident is he in his tongue’s ability to dress his foul thoughts in fair words, there is nothing he dares not do.
[tr. Davie (1996)]What I believe, for example is the more eloquent the misfit, the greater the punishment he deserves because, thinking that his eloquence and his pretty words will get him out of any injustice, he has the audacity to commit even greater evils.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]In my opinion,
the unjust man who speaks so plausibly
brings on himself the harshest punishment.
Since he’s sure his tongue can hide injustice,
he dares anything.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 689ff]To my mind, whoever is naturally sophos in speaking but has no dikē deserves the heaviest punishment. Such a man boasts that he can cast a decent veil of words over his unjust deeds, and boldly proceeds to wickedness.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]To my mind, the plausible speaker who is a scoundrel incurs the greatest punishment. For since he is confident that he can cleverly cloak injustice with his words, his boldness stops at no dishonesty.
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
MEDEA: I shall never accept the favors of friends of yours,
Nor take a thing from you, so you need not offer it.
There is no benefit in the gifts of a bad man.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: οὔτ᾽ ἂν ξένοισι τοῖσι σοῖς χρησαίμεθ᾽ ἂν
οὔτ᾽ ἄν τι δεξαίμεσθα, μηδ᾽ ἡμῖν δίδου:
κακοῦ γὰρ ἀνδρὸς δῶρ᾽ ὄνησιν οὐκ ἔχει.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 616ff (431 BC) [tr. Warner (1944)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:No use I of thy friends
Will make, nor aught accept; thy presents spare.
For nothing which the wicked man can give
Proves beneficial.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]I shall not use thy friends, nor will accept
Aught of thy treasures: give not me; the gifts
Of a bad man can bring no good with them.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Guest-friends of thine shall never profit me.
Nor will I aught of thee: proffer me nothing,
For there's no service in a bad man's gift.
[tr. Webster (1868)]I will have naught to do with friends of thine, naught will I receive of thee, offer it not to me; a villain's gifts can bring no blessing.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]I will neither use thy friends, nor will I receive aught; do not give to me, for the gifts of a bad man bring no assistance.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Thy friends! — nothing will I of friends of thine.
No whit will I receive, nor offer thou.
No profit is there in a villain's gifts.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]The gifts of a bad man bring no good with them.
[tr. Morgan; Bartlett's (1903)]I will not seek thy friends. I will not take
Thy givings. Give them not. Fruits of a stem
Unholy bring no blessing after them.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Nothing would induce me to have dealings with your friends,
Nor to take any gift of yours; so offer none.
A lying traitor's gifts carry no luck.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]I wouldn’t have any dealings with your friends,
Nor take what you gave, don’t bother offering.
“The gifts of an evil giver bring no gain.”
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]I will accept no help from your friends nor will I take anything from you, so do not offer it. The gifts of a base man bring no benefit.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]I would not on any terms resort to friends of yours or accept anything from you; make me no such offer; gifts from wicked people bring only harm.
[tr. Davie (1996)]I need neither your money nor your friends. Gifts from an evil man are of no use at all to anyone.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]We will not be making use of your friends;
I will not take anything from you; don’t give me anything.
The gift of a bad man brings no pleasure.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]I’ll accept no assistance from your friends,
nor anything from you. Don’t make the offer.
Gifts from a worthless man are without value.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]I would not use your friends nor take a thing from you, so do not give; the gifts of a bad man can do great harm.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Neither would I make use of your xenoi, nor would I accept anything from you; cease to offer it. Gifts from a kakos man bring no benefit.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]I will accept no help from your friends nor will I take anything from you, so do not offer it. The gifts of a dishonourable man bring no benefit.
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
CHORUS: Visitations of love that come
Raging and violent on a man
Bring him neither good repute nor goodness.
But if Aphrodite descends in gentleness
No other goddess brings such delight.[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: ἔρωτες ὑπὲρ μὲν ἄγαν ἐλθόντες οὐκ εὐδοξίαν
οὐδ᾽ ἀρετὰν παρέδωκαν ἀνδράσιν: εἰ δ᾽ ἅλις ἔλθοι
Κύπρις, οὐκ ἄλλα θεὸς εὔχαρις οὕτως.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 627ff, Second Stasimon, Strophe 1 (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Th' immoderate Loves in their career,
Nor glory nor esteem attends,
But when the Cyprian Queen descends
Benignant from her starry sphere.
No Goddess can more justly claim
From man the grateful prayer.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]When fierce conflicting passions urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
The hope of praise, the dread of shame,
Can rouse the tortur’d breast no more;
The wild desire, the guilty flame,
Absorbs each wish it felt before.
But if Affection gently thrills
The soul, by purer dreams possest,
The pleasing balm of mortal ills
In love can sooth the aching breast:
If thus thou comest in disguise,
Fair Venus! from thy native heaven,
What heart, unfeeling, would despise
The sweetest boon the Gods have given?
[tr. Byron (1807)]When with a wild impetuous sway
The Loves come rushing on the breast,
Each virtuous thought is rent away,
Each breath of fame supprest.
But when, confess'd her gentle reign,
Enchanting Venus deigns t'appear,
Of all the pow'rs of heav'n most dear,
She leads the Graces in her train.
[tr. Potter (1814)]The wild loves that force eager way
Nor worth nor fame on man confer,
But if come Cypris with meet sway
There is no gracious god like her.
[tr. Webster (1868)]When in excess and past all limits Love doth come, he brings not glory or repute to man; but if the Cyprian queen in moderate might approach, no goddess is so full of charm as she.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]The loves, when they come too impetuously, have given neither good report nor virtue among men, but if Venus come with moderation, no other Goddess is so benign.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Love bringeth nor glory nor honour to men when it cometh restraining
Not its unscanted excess: but if Kypris, in measure raining
Her joy, cometh down, there is none other Goddess so winsome as she.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Alas, the Love that falleth like a flood,
Strong-winged and transitory:
Why praise ye him? What beareth he of good
To man, or glory?
Yet Love there is that moves in gentleness,
Heart-filling, sweetest of all powers that bless.
[tr. Murray (1906)]When love is in excess
It brings a man no honor
Nor any worthiness.
But if in moderation Cypris comes,
There is no other power at all so gracious.
[tr. Warner (1944)]When the Loves descend in full force they never enhance
Men’s fame or virtue, but if Aphrodite approaches
With reserve, there is no more gracious goddess.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Loves that come to us in excess bring no good name or goodness to men. If Aphrodite comes in moderation, no other goddess brings such happiness.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]When passions come upon men in strength beyond due measure, their gift is neither one of glory nor of greatness. But if the Cyprian tempers her visit, no other goddess is so gracious.
[tr. Davie (1996)]When Aphrodite arrives in the hearts of people, with no fuss and with no exaggerated madness, she is a very enjoyable visitor but, alas, overwhelming lust brings neither honour nor glory to any one.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Love coming on too strong
does not give glory or virtue
to men. But if Kypris comes in moderation,
no other goddess is so gracious.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Erotic love with too much passion
brings with it no fine reputation,
and nothing virtuous to men.
But if Aphrodite comes in smaller doses,
no other god is so desirable.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Excess of passion brings no glory or honour to men.
[ed. Yeroulanos (2016)]Love that comes in great excess does not grant reputation or excellence; but if Aphrodite comes more gently, there is no other god who gives such great pleasure.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]When loves come excessive and past all limit, they bring neither good repute nor high ideals [aretē] to men; but if Aphrodite approaches in moderate strength, no goddess is so full of charm as she.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
CHORUS: Never, oh goddess, let fly at me an inescapable arrow
from your golden bow, after you drench it in desire.[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: μήποτ᾽, ὦ δέσποιν᾽, ἐπ᾽ ἐμοὶ χρυσέων
τόξων ἀφείης ἱμέρῳ
χρίσασ᾽ ἄφυκτον οἰστόν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 633ff, Second Stasimon, Strophe 1 (431 BC) [tr. Luschnig (2007)]
(Source)
Addressing Aphrodite/Venus.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Thy wrath, O Venus, still forbear,
Nor at my tender bosom aim
That venom'd arrow, ever wont to inspire,
Wing'd from thy golden bow, the pangs of keen desire.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]But, never from thy golden bow,
May I beneath the shaft expire!
Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,
Awakes an all-consuming fire:
Ye racking doubts! ye jealous fears!
With others wage internal war;
Repentance! source of future tears,
From me be ever distant far!
[tr. Byron (1807)]Ne'er from thy golden bow, Queen of soft joy,
Steep'd in desire thy shafts 'gainst me employ!
[tr. Potter (1814)]Oh never, queen, I pray,
Drive from thy golden bow into my heart
The escapeless passion-poisoned dart.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Never, O never, lady mine, discharge at me from thy golden bow a shaft invincible, in passion’s venom dipped.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Never, O my mistress, mayest thou send forth against me from thy golden bow thy inevitable shaft, having steeped it in desire.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Not upon me, O Queen, do thou aim from thy bow all-golden
The arrow desire-envenomed that none may avoid -- not on me!
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Loose not on me, O Holder of man's heart,
Thy golden quiver,
Nor steep in poison of desire the dart
That heals not ever.
[tr. Murray (1906)]O goddess, never on me let loose the unerring
Shaft of your bow in the poison of desire.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Never, Queen Aphrodite,
Loose against me from your golden bow,
Dipped in sweetness of desire,
Your inescapable arrow!
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Mistress, never use me as a target, shooting golden arrows
Tipped with desire, unerring in aim.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Never, o goddess, may you smear with desire one of your ineluctable arrows and let it fly against my heart from your golden bow!
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]Oh never, my lady, may you fire at me from your golden bow the unerring arrow you have poisoned with desire!
[tr. Davie (1996)]Oh, Lady Aphrodite!
I sincerely hope you don’t shoot any of your unfailing golden arrows, dipped in lust, at me!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Goddess, I pray you never strike me
with one of those poisoned arrows
shot from your golden bow.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Mistress, never shoot me from your golden bow an inescapable arrow anointed with desire.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Never, mistress, discharge at me from your golden bow a shaft inescapable, in passion’s venom dipped.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]Never, o goddess, may you smear with desire one of your inescapable arrows and let it fly against my heart from your golden bow!
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
CHORUS: May I know the blessing of a heart that is not passion’s slave; no fairer gift can the gods bestow. But may the dread Cyprian never inflict upon me quarrelsome moods and insatiable strife, firing my heart with love for a stranger; may she rather show respect for marriages where peace reigns and judge with a shrewd eye the loves of women.
ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: στέργοι δέ με σωφροσύνα, δώρημα κάλλιστον θεῶν:
μηδέ ποτ᾽ ἀμφιλόγους ὀργὰς ἀκόρεστά τε νείκη
θυμὸν ἐκπλήξασ᾽ ἑτέροις ἐπὶ λέκτροις
προσβάλοι δεινὰ Κύπρις, ἀπτολέμους δ᾽
εὐνὰς σεβίζουσ᾽ ὀξύφρων
κρίνοι λέχη γυναικῶν.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 636ff, Second Stasimon, Antistrophe 1 (431 BC) [tr. Davie (1996)]
(Source)
The Cyprian goddess is an epithet for Aphrodite, who was born (in some versions) at Pamphros in Cyprus. The Chorus sings specifically here from the perspective of women.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:May I in modesty delight,
Best present which the Gods can give.
Nor torn by jarring passions live
A prey to wrath and canker'd spite.
Still envious of a rival's charms,
Nor rouse the endless strife
While on my soul another Wife,
Impresses vehement alarms:
On us, dread Queen, thy mildest influence shed.
Thou who discern'st each crime that stains the nuptial bed.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]May no distracting thoughts destroy
The holy calm of sacred love!
May all the hours be winged with joy,
Which hover faithful hearts above!
Fair Venus! on thy myrtle shrine
May I with some fond lover sigh!
Whose heart may mingle pure with mine,
With me to live, with me to die!
[tr. Byron (1807)]The noblest present of the skies,
Be modest temperance mine:
May no unruly passions rise,
Nor pride and hate combine
Their baleful venom wide to spread,
And kindling rage and jealous strive,
Embitter all the joys of life,
In vengeance for the injur'd bed,
O Venus, prompt connubial peace t' approve,
And quick to mark the faults of wand'ring love!
[tr. Potter (1814)]But be my guardian chastity,
The god's best gift, nor let my mind,
By cruel Cypris forced awry,
The burden of hot anger find,
Of gnawing jealousy;
But may she, pleasured with calm wedded lives,
Wisely adjudge their lots to wives.
[tr. Webster (1868)]On me may chastity, heaven’s fairest gift, look with a favouring eye; never may Cypris, goddess dread, fasten on me a temper to dispute, or restless jealousy, smiting my soul with mad desire for unlawful love, but may she hallow peaceful married life and shrewdly decide whom each of us shall wed.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But may temperance preserve me, the noblest gift of heaven; never may dreaded Venus, having smitten my mind for another's bed, heap upon me jealous passions and unabated quarrels, but approving the peaceful union, may she quick of perception sit in judgment on the bed of women.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]But let Temperance shield me, the fairest of gifts of the Gods ever-living:
Nor ever with passion of jarring contention, nor feuds unforgiving,
In her terrors may Love's Queen visit me, smiting with maddened unrest
For a couch mismated my soul: but the peace of the bride-bed be holden
In honour of her, and her keen eyes choose for us bonds that be best
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]The pent hate of the word that cavilleth,
The strife that hath no fill,
Where once was fondness; and the mad heart's breath
For strange love panting still:
O Cyprian, cast me not on these; but sift,
Keen-eyed, of love the good and evil gift.
Make Innocence my friend, God's fairest star,
Yea, and abate not
The rare sweet beat of bosoms without war,
That love, and hate not.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Let my heart be wise.
It is the gods’ best gift.
On me let mighty Cypris
Inflict no wordy wars or restless anger
To urge my passion to a different love.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Let Innocence, the gods' loveliest gift,
Choose me for her own;
Never may the dread Cyprian
Craze my heart to leave old love for new,
Sending to assault me
Angry disputes and feuds unending;
But let her judge shrewdly the loves of women
And respect the bed where no war rages.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Lady Restraint, befriend me (for it is the gods' greatest gift),
May Aphrodite never drive me to fight with my husband,
Striking my spirit with love of another man,
But do me the honor of making my marriage peaceful,
And decide shrewdly about women's loves.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]May moderation attend me, fairest gift of the gods! May Aphrodite never cast contentious wrath and insatiate quarreling upon me and madden my heart with love for a stranger's bed. But may she honor marriages that are peaceful and wisely determine whom we are to wed!
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]I hope that wisdom, the most treasured gift the gods have given us, protects me from that misfortune!
And, Lady Aphrodite, don’t plant into my heart improper love and then send me all the curses that go with it: Hatred, jealousy, endless fights. Instead, dear Lady, protect marriage and grant honour to all the peace-loving couples.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]But I pray that composure be my friend,
the finest gift of the gods.
Dreaded Kypris, never hit me with quarrelsome angers
and insatiable strife,
after stinging my heart for another bed,
but honoring a match free of conflict, wisely discern
women’s love.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]I pray that moderation,
the gods’ most beautiful gift,
will always guide me.
I pray that Aphrodite
never packs my heart with jealousy
or angry quarreling.
May she never fill me with desire
for sex in other people’s beds.
May she bless peaceful unions,
using her wisdom to select
a woman’s marriage bed.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]May self-control favor me, the gods' fairest gift; may fearful Aphrodite not strike me with angry quarrels and insatiable strife, stunning my heart with lust for someone else's bed; may she respect all peaceful marriage-beds when judging with her sharp mind where women make love.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]May I find favor with moderation [sōphrosunē], heaven’s fairest gift. And may deina Aphrodite never fasten on me a disputatious temper, or insatiable [without koros] quarrels, smiting my thūmos with a mad desire for unlawful loves. May she reverence peaceful unions, and sagaciously decide the marriages of women.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
CHORUS: I hope the man who does not honour his friends, the man who does not open an honest heart to them, I hope that man dies a horrible, a miserable death. Such a man will certainly never be a friend of mine!
[ΚΥΚΛΩΨ: ἀχάριστος ὄλοιθ᾽ ὅτῳ πάρεστιν
μὴ φίλους τιμᾶν καθαρᾶν ἀνοί-
ξαντα κλῇδα φρενῶν: ἐμοὶ
μὲν φίλος οὔποτ᾽ ἔσται.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 659ff, Antistrophe 2 (431 BC) [tr. Theodoridis (2004)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Perish the wretch devoid of worth.
Engrossed by mean and selfish ends.
Whose heart expands not, those he lov'd, to aid;
Never may I lament attachments thus repaid.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Unpitied may he die,
Who to a friend assistance can deny;
Nor, to afflicted virtue kind,
Unlocks the treasures of his mind!
[tr. Potter (1814)]Let shameful blight
Slay him who gives not friends their right,
Unlocking them his heart's pure store:
Let him be friend of mine no more.
[tr. Webster (1868)]May he perish and find no favour, whoso hath not in him honour for his friends, freely unlocking his heart to them. Never shall he be friend of mine.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Thankless may he perish who desires not to assist his friends, having unlocked the pure treasures of his mind; never shall he be friend to me.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]But he, who regardeth not friends, accursed may he perish, and hated,
Who opes not his heart with sincerity's key to the hapless-fated --
Never such shall be friend of mine!
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Ah, but the man -- cursèd be he,
Cursèd beyond recover,
Who openeth, shattering, seal by seal,
A friend's clean heart, then turns his heel,
Deaf unto love: never in me
Friend shall he know nor lover.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Perish the fiend! whose iron heart
To fair Affection’s truth unknown,
Bids her he fondly lov’d depart,
Unpitied, helpless, and alone;
Who ne’er unlocks with silver key,
The milder treasures of his soul;
May such a friend be far from me,
And Ocean’s storms between us roll!
[tr. Byron (1907)]O let him die ungraced whose heart
Will not reward his friends,
Who cannot open an honest mind
No friend will he be of mine.
[tr. Warner (1944)]May dishonor and ruin fall on the man
Who, having unlocked the secrets
Of a friend's frank heart, can then disown him!
He shall be no friend of mine.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Perish unloved the one
who does not unlock a pure heart to friends;
No friend of mind will he ever be.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]May that man die unloved who cannot honor his friends, unlocking to them his honest mind. To me at any rate he shall never be friend.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]Untouched by grace or favour may he die, the man who cannot honour his loved ones, by opening a heart that harbours no guile! Never shall he be friend of mine.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Without grace may he perish who
does not treat his loved ones honorably
unbolting his heart in pure love.
He will never be a friend of mine.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]The man who shames his family,
who does not open up his heart
and treat them in all honesty --
may he perish unlamented.
With him I never could be friends.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]May an ungrateful person be destroyed, one who does not honour family and friends when he has opened up their hearts and found them pure; may such a person never be my friend.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]May he perish without grace [kharis], whoever could treat his philoi without timē, not opening the key of his phrenes. Never will he be philos to me.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]May that man die unloved who cannot honour his friends, unlocking to them his honest mind. To me at any rate he shall never be a friend.
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
ÆGEUS: All happiness to you Medea! Between old friends
There is no better greeting.[ΑἸΓΕΎΣ: Μήδεια, χαῖρε: τοῦδε γὰρ προοίμιον
κάλλιον οὐδεὶς οἶδε προσφωνεῖν φίλους.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 663ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Medea, hail! for no man can devise
Terms more auspicious to accost his friends.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Medea, hail! When we salute our friends,
No terms of higher honour can we use.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Medea, hail; since sooth no fairer greeting
Hath any known wherewith to reverence friends.
[tr. Webster (1868)]All hail, Medea! no man knoweth fairer prelude to the greeting of friends than this.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Medea, hail! for no one hath known a more honorable salutation to address to friends than this.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Medea, hail! -- for fairer greeting-word
None knoweth to accost his friends withal.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Have joy, Medea! 'Tis the homeliest
Word that old friends can greet with, and the best.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Medea, greeting! This is the best introduction
Of which men know for conversation between friends.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Medea, rejoice! There is no fairer greeting from friend to friend.
[tr. Jeffers (1946)]Medea, I wish you well. No one knows
How to address a better greeting to friends.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Medea, I wish you joy: no one knows a better way than this to address a friend.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]Medea, I wish you joy. No one knows a finer prelude than this in addressing friends.
[tr. Davie (1996)]A joyful day to you, Medea. I give you the best greeting anyone can give to his friends.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Medea, hello. For no one knows a better way
than this to address friends and wish them well.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]I wish you all happiness, Medea.
There is no better way to greet one’s friends.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Medea, be of good fortune; no one can find a better way than this to greet a friend.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]I wish you kharis, Medea! No one knows a finer beginning than this to address philoi.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
NURSE: We’re ruined, then, if we must add a new
Evil to the old one we’ve hardly saved ourselves from.[ΤΡΟΦΌΣ: Ἀπωλόμεσθ᾽ ἄρ᾽, εἰ κακὸν προσοίσομεν
νέον παλαιῷ, πρὶν τόδ᾽ ἐξηντληκέναι.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 78ff (431 BC) [tr. Podlecki (1989)]
(Source)
Reacting to the news that King Creon is going to banish Medea and her sons, on top of the existing problem of Medea's broken marriage and fraying sanity. (Turns out, she's not wrong.)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:We shall be plung'd
In utter ruin, if to our old woes
Yet unexhausted, any fresh we add.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Rain would follow, to the former ill
If this were added e'er the first subsides.
[tr. Potter (1814)]We are undone then if to the first ill,
Ere yet it be drained dry, we add a new.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Undone, it seems, are we, if to old woes fresh ones we add, ere we have drained the former to the dregs.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]We perish then, if to the old we shall add a new ill, before the former be exhausted.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]We are undone then, if we add fresh ill
To old, ere lightened be our ship of this.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]But this is ruin! New waves breaking in
To wreck us, ere we are righted from the old!
[tr. Murray (1906)]It’s black indeed for us, when we add new to old
Sorrows before even the present sky has cleared.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Then we're lost, if we must add new trouble
To old, before we're rid of what we had already.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]We are done for, it seems, if we add this new trouble to our old ones before we've weathered those.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]That’s scuppered us, then, if a new wave is going to crash over us before we’ve managed to bale out the old one!
[tr. Davie (1996)]Well then, we are finished, old man!
We are destroyed! New troubles arrive even before the old ones have gone!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]It’s all over for us, if we take on new troubles
on top of the old, before they have been drained out.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]If we must add these brand-new troubles
to our old ones, before we’ve dealt with them,
then we’re finished.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Then we are lost, if we must add this new evil
before we've drained the old one to the dregs.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]That's it, we're doomed. New troubles are poured in our cup
Faster than we can drink the old ones to the dregs.
[tr. Hill (2025)]Then we are ruined, if we add new trouble [kakon] to old, before we have bailed out the latter.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA:What makes me cry with pain
Is the next thing I have to do. I will kill my sons.
No one shall take my children from me.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: ᾤμωξα δ᾿ οἷον ἔργον ἔστ᾿ ἐργαστέον
τοὐντεῦθεν ἡμῖν· τέκνα γὰρ κατακτενῶ
τἄμ᾿· οὔτις ἔστιν ὅστις ἐξαιρήσεται·]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 791ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
This is the first time Medea directly announces her intent; scholars debate whether it's where she actually first thinks of it.
The most interesting divergence in translations here is whether Medea is asserting that nobody can save the children from her plan to kill them, or that nobody will take them from her because she will kill them first. The former seems to me more in keeping with the rest of the passage, but some translators disagree. Though her sons were to have been exiled with her, some scholars believe Medea was concerned that they might be killed (taken from her) once she murdered Glauce, Jason's new wife.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:But I with anguish think upon a deed
Of more than common horror, which remains
By me to be accomplish'd: for my Sons
Am I resolved to slay, them from this arm
Shall no man rescue.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]But what a deed,
Ay, there my heart is anguish'd, what a deed
Must next be done! My sons -- I'll kill them both,
And who shall save them from me?
[tr. Potter (1814)]But I am woe for what a deed
Needs must be done: for I shall slay my sons.
No one there is who may deliver them.
[tr. Webster (1868)]But I shudder at the deed I must do next; for I will slay the children I have borne; there is none shall take them from my toils.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But I bewail the deed such as must next be done by me; for I shall slay my children; there is no one who shall rescue them from me.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]And wail the deed that yet for me remains
To bring to pass; for I will slay my children,
Yea, mine: no man shall pluck them from mine hand.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]I gnash my teeth
Thinking on what a path my feet must tread
Thereafter. I shall lay those children dead --
Mine, whom no hand shall steal from me away!
[tr. Murray (1906)]Oh, my heart
Cries at the thought of what a deed I must
Do after that. For I must kill my children,
Mine own. There lives not who shall rescue them.
[tr. Lucas; ed. Higham (1938)]I weep to think of what a deed I have to do
Next after that; for I shall kill my own children.
My children, there is none who can give them safety.
[tr. Warner (1944)]I moan for the kind of task that I must proceed
To accomplish. For I shall put the children to death --
My children. No one will save them from me.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Ah me, I groan at what a deed I must do next! I shall kill my children: there is no one who can rescue them.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]It makes me groan to think what deed I must do net. For I shall kill my own children; no one shall take them from me.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Ah! How I shudder with fear for the monstrous deed that I must do!
Immediately after the murder of the Princess I will have to murder my own children. No one can save them, now, no one!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]I grieve over the deed I must do
after this. For I shall kill my children.
There is no one who will rescue them.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]But the next thing I’ll do fills me with pain --
I’m going to kill my children. There’s no one
can save them now.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 940ff]Now hear what follows: I weep for what I must do; for then I'll kill my children. No one will give relief.
[tr. Kovacs / Kitzinger (2016)]I have mourned the kind of thing that I need to do
After this: For I will kill my children.
There is no one who will save them.
[tr. @sentantiq (2020)]But then
I'm miserable about what I must do.
I have to kill my children; no one
will take them from my hands.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]I grieve at the deed I must do next; for I will slay my own children. No one will take them from me!
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]Ah me, I groan at what a deed I must do next. I will kill my children: there is no one who can rescue them.
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
MEDEA: Now let things take their course. What use is life to me?
I have no land, no home, no refuge from despair.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: ἴτω: τί μοι ζῆν κέρδος; οὔτε μοι πατρὶς
οὔτ᾽ οἶκος ἔστιν οὔτ᾽ ἀποστροφὴ κακῶν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 798ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
Though she has just been offered refuge in Athens by King Ægeus; perhaps because that contradiction, note that some more recent translators (Davie, Ewans) leave out these lines as interpolations.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Can life be any gain
To me who have no country left, no home,
No place of refuge?
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Go to: hath life
A blessing yet for me? I have no country,
I have no house, no refuge from my ills.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Well, be it as it must be.
What good for me to live? No home for me,
Nor fatherland, nor refuge from my woes.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Enough! What gain is life to me? I have no country, home, or refuge left.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Let things take their course; what gain is it to me to live longer? I have neither country, nor house, nor refuge from my ills.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Let all go: what is life to me? Nor country
Nor home have I, nor refuge from mine ills.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Let it come!
What profits life to me? I have no home,
No country now, nor shield from any wrong.
[tr. Murray (1906)]What good is life? I have no land,
No home, no shelter for my misery.
[tr. Lucas, ed. Higham (1938)]So it must happen. What profit have I in life?
I have no land, no home, no refuge from my pain.
[tr. Warner (1944)]So -- what profit for me in living? who have
No country, no home, no shelter from misfortune.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Let that be as it will. What do I gain by living? I have no fatherland, no house, and no means to turn aside misfortune.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]What is the point of living?
There is no land, no home, nor any means to escape my suffering. Miserable wretch!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Let it pass. What good is life to me? I have no homeland,
I have no home as a refuge from evils.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]So be it. What good does life hold for me now?
I have no father, no home, no refuge.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 948ff]So be it. What gain for me to stay alive? I have no fatherland, no home, no escape from disaster.
[tr. Kovacs / Kitzinger (2016)]What do I gain from living? I have no country,
no home, no relief from my misfortune.
[ed. Yeroulanos (2016)]So be it! What profit [kerdos] is life to me? I have no country, home [oikos], or refuge left from evils [kaka].
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: Let no one think of me
As humble or weak or passive; let them understand
I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies,
Loyal to my friends. To such a life glory belongs.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ:μηδείς με φαύλην κἀσθενῆ νομιζέτω
μηδ᾽ ἡσυχαίαν, ἀλλὰ θατέρου τρόπου,
βαρεῖαν ἐχθροῖς καὶ φίλοισιν εὐμενῆ:
810τῶν γὰρ τοιούτων εὐκλεέστατος βίος.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 807ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:None shall think lightly of me, as if weak,
Of courage void, or with a soul too tame,
But form'd by Heaven in a far different mould.
The terror of my foes, and to my friends
Benignant : for most glorious are the lives
Of those who act with such determin'd zeal.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Let me not be deem'd
A poor, low-thoughted, tame, and timid thing:
No; to my foes relentless is my soul,
But to my friends all gentleness; and such
Are held through life in honour's highest rank.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Let none believe me weak and lethargic
Nor tame in spirit, but far other souled;
Dour to my foes, but to my friends most helpful:
For the lives of such do wear the nobler grace.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Let no one deem me a poor weak woman who sits with folded hands, but of another mould, dangerous to foes and well-disposed to friends; for they win the fairest fame who live their life like me.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Let no one think me mean-spirited and weak, nor of a gentle temper, but of a contrary disposition to my foes relentless, and to my friends kind: for the lives of such sort are most glorious.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Let none account me impotent, nor weak,
Nor meek of spirit! — Nay, in other sort,
Grim to my foes, and kindly to my friends,
For of such is the life most glorious.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Names have I
Among your folk? One light? One weak of hand?
An eastern dreamer? — Nay, but with the brand
Of strange suns burnt, my hate, by God above,
A perilous thing, and passing sweet my love!
For these it is that make life glorious.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Let no man think of me as mean or weak
Or a quiet soul, -- nay very far from it! --
As dangerous a foe as loyal friend.
For such are they that live most honourable.
[tr. Lucas, ed. Higham (1938)]Let no one think me a weak one, feeble-spirited,
A stay-at-home, but rather just the opposite,
One who can hurt my enemies and help my friends;
For the lives of such persons are most remembered.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Let no one think of me as “poor” or “weak”
Or “retiring”, but quite the contrary, a millstone
Around my enemies’ necks, a boon to my friends.
The lives of people like that are most renowned.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Let no one think me weak, contemptible, untroublesome. No, quite the opposite, hurtful to foes, to friends kindly. Such persons live a life of greatest glory.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]Let no one think me a weak and feeble woman, or one to let things pass, but rather one of the other sort, a generous friend but an enemy to be feared. It is people like that who achieve true fame in life.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Let no one think that I am some weak and sickly woman, or one of those quiet spirits!
Quite the opposite! I am most friendly to my friends and most fearsome to my enemies. It’s only people like me who live a life of glory.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Let no one think that I am mean or weak
nor peaceful, but of the other sort,
a weight upon my enemies but to my friends most kind.
It is to such people the heroic way of life belongs.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Let no one think that I’m a trivial woman,
a feeble one who sits there passively.
No, I’m a different sort — dangerous
to enemies, but well disposed to friends.
Lives like mine achieve the greatest glory.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 957ff]Let no one think me weak, worthless, or docile. Let me be thought the opposite of these: harsh with my ehemies, gentle with my friends. Such people live lives of great renown.
[tr. Kovacs / Kitzinger (2016)]Let no one think me weak, contemptible,
untroublesome; no, quite the opposite,
hurtful to foes, kindly to friends;
such persons live a life of greatest glory.
[tr. Kovacs; ed. Yeroulanos (2016)]Let no one think me insignificant or weak,
or gentle -- I am quite the opposite;
a heavy burden on my enemies
and a great help to my friends;
people like this live the most glorious life.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Let no one consider me trifling and weak, as one who lives in serenity [hēsukhiā], but of another mold: dangerous to enemies [ekhthroi], and well-disposed to philoi. They win the fairest kleos who live their life like me.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]Let no one think of me as weak, contemptible, untroublesome. No, quite the opposite: hurtful to foes, to friends kindly. Such people live a life of greatest glory.
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
NURSE: Terrible is the temperament of royalty,
Who are rarely controlled, always imperious;
It is hard for them to give up their wrath.
To get used to living like everybody else
Is better.[ΤΡΟΦΌΣ: δεινὰ τυράννων λήματα καί πως
ὀλίγ᾽ ἀρχόμενοι, πολλὰ κρατοῦντες
χαλεπῶς ὀργὰς μεταβάλλουσιν.
τὸ γὰρ εἰθίσθαι ζῆν ἐπ᾽ ἴσοισιν
κρεῖσσον.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 119ff (431 BC) [tr. Podlecki (1989)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:For the souls
Of Kings are prone to cruelty, so seldom
Subdued, and over others wont to rule,
That it is difficult for such to change
Their angry purpose. Happier I esteem
The lot of those who still are wont to live
Among their equals.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Kings have a fiery quality of soul,
Accustom'd to command, if once they feel
control, though small, their anger blazes out
Not easily extinguish'd: hence I deem
An equal mediocrity of life
More to be wish'd.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Dread are the humours of princes: as wont
To be ruled in few things and in many to lord,
It is hard to them to turn from their wrath.
But to lead one's life in the level ways
Is best.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Strange are the tempers of princes, and maybe because they seldom have to obey, and mostly lord it over others, change they their moods with difficulty. 'Tis better then to have been trained to live on equal terms.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Dreadful are the dispositions of tyrants, and somehow in few things controlled, in most absolute, they with difficulty lay aside their passion. The being accustomed then to live in mediocrity of life is the better.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Ah princes -- how fearful their moods are! --
Long ruling, unschooled to obey, --
Unforgiving, unsleeping their feuds are.
Better life's level way.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Rude are the wills of princes: yea,
Prevailing alway, seldom crossed,
On fitful winds their moods are tossed:
'Tis best men tread the equal way.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Great people’s tempers are terrible, always
Having their own way, seldom checked,
Dangerous they shift from mood to mood.
How much better to have been accustomed
To live on equal terms with one’s neighbors.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Oh, it's a bad thing
To be born of high race, and brought up wilful and powerful in a great house, unruled
And ruling many: for then if misfortune comes it is unendurable, it drives you mad. I say that poor people
Are happier: the little commoners and humble people, the poor in spirit.
[tr. Jeffers (1946)]The mind of a queen
Is a thing to fear. A queen is used
To giving commands, not obeying them;
And her rage once roused is hard to appease.
To have learnt to live on the common level
Is better.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]The minds of royalty are dangerous: since they often command and seldom obey, they are subject to violent changes of mood. For it is better to be accustomed to live on terms of equality.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]They have frightening natures, those of royal blood; because, I imagine, they’re seldom overruled and generally have their way, they do not easily forget a grudge. Better to have formed the habit of living on equal terms with your neighbours.
[tr. Davie (1996)]How afraid I am of these royal rages! It’s so hard for such rages to subside.
Kings and queens have always been spoiled by power. They’re not used to taking orders. No, they’d much rather give them!
Kings and Queens only do what they want and forget about everyone else!
Oh, how much better it is to live a balanced life: to be an equal among equals.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Tyrants’ tempers are insufferable:
they are seldom under control, their power is far-reaching.
It is hard for them to swallow their rages.
To get used to living on terms of equality
is better.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]The pride of rulers is something to fear --
they often order men, but seldom listen,
and when their tempers change it’s hard to bear.
It’s better to get used to living life
as an equal common person.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]The temperaments of royalty are fearsome;
because they're almost unrestrained
and are so powerful, it is rare
for them to overcome their rage.
To be accustomed to live in equality
is best.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Terrible / wonderful [deina] are the tempers of turannoi; maybe because they seldom have to obey, and mostly lord it over others, they change their moods with difficulty. It is better then to have been trained to live in equality.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
NURSE: But not long
Can the extremes of grandeur ever last;
And heavier are the curses which it brings
When Fortune visits us in all her wrath.[ΤΡΟΦΌΣ:Τὰ δ᾽ ὑπερβάλλοντ᾽
οὐδένα καιρὸν δύναται θνητοῖς,
μείζους δ᾽ ἄτας, ὅταν ὀργισθῇ
δαίμων οἴκοις, ἀπέδωκεν.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 127ff (431 BC) [tr. Wodhull (1782)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:But the height
Of tow'ring greatness long to mortal man
Remains not fix'd; and, when misfortune comes
Enraged, in deeper ruin sinks the house.
[tr. Potter (1814)]But too high-pitched luck
Stands no mortal in stead at the time of need;
Nay, more, when the god is stirred to his wrath,
Dowers greater curse on the house.
[tr. Webster (1868)]But greatness that doth o'erreach itself, brings no blessing to mortal men; but pays a penalty of greater ruin whenever fortune is wroth with a family.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But excess of fortune brings more power to men than is convenient, and has brought greater woes upon families, when the Deity be enraged.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]But to men never weal above measure
Availed: on its perilous height
The Gods in their hour of displeasure
The heavier smite.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]But the fiercely great
Hath little music on his road,
And falleth, when the hand of God
Shall move, most deep and desolate.
[tr. Murray (1906)]Greatness brings no profit to people.
God indeed, when in anger, brings
Greater ruin to great men’s houses.
[tr. Warner (1944)]This is the wild and terrible justice of God: it brings on great persons
The great disasters. [tr. Jeffers (1946)]To be rich and powerful brings no blessing;
Only more utterly
Is the prosperous house destroyed, when the gods are angry.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Excess on the other hand
Always surpasses what is appropriate for men.
When heaven is angered at a house
It pays back ruin in plenty.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]But excessive riches mean no advantage for mortals, and when a god is angry at a house, they make the ruin greater.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]Excess, though, means no profit for man and pays him back with greater ruin, whenever a house earns heaven's anger.
[tr. Davie (1996)]If man holds something else dearer to moderation, he will most certainly lose out in the end. Add to that the wrath of the gods, which will fall most heavily upon such a man’s house and which will destroy him.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]But excess
never should have a place in our lives.
It brings all the greater ruin
when some god feels spite toward a house.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Going for too much brings no benefits.
And when the gods get angry with some home,
the more wealth it has, the more it is destroyed.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Excess does not yield any gain,
for when a god is angry with a house
it pays with great destruction.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Extreme greatness brings no balance to mortal men, and pays a penalty of greater disaster [atē] whenever a superhuman force [daimōn] is angry with a household [oikos].
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: Of all creatures that live and understand,
we women suffer most.
In the first place we must, for a vast sum,
buy a husband; what’s worse,
with him our bodies get a master.
And here’s what’s most at stake:
Did we get a man who’s good or bad?ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: πάντων δ᾽ ὅσ᾽ ἔστ᾽ ἔμψυχα καὶ γνώμην ἔχει
γυναῖκές ἐσμεν ἀθλιώτατον φυτόν:
ἃς πρῶτα μὲν δεῖ χρημάτων ὑπερβολῇ
πόσιν πρίασθαι, δεσπότην τε σώματος
[λαβεῖν: κακοῦ γὰρ τοῦτ᾽ ἔτ᾽ ἄλγιον κακόν].
κἀν τῷδ᾽ ἀγὼν μέγιστος, ἢ κακὸν λαβεῖν
ἢ χρηστόν.Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 230ff (431 BC) [tr. Kovacs / Kitzinger (2016)]
(Source)
Speaking to the women of Corinth (the Chorus).
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:But sure among all those
Who have with breath and reason been endued.
We women are the most unhappy race,
First with abundant gold are we constrain'd
To buy a husband, and in him receive
A haughty master. Still doth there remain
One mischief than this mischief yet more grievous.
The hazard whether we. procure a mate
Worthless or virtuous.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Thus is it, of all beings, that have life
And sense, we women are most wretched; first
With all our dearest treasures we must buy
A husband, and in him receive a lord:
And hardship this: a greater hardship yet
Awaits us; here's the question, if this lord
Prove gentle, or a tyrant.
[tr. Potter (1814)]Aye, of all living and of reasoning things
Are woman the most miserable race:
Who first needs buy a husband at great price,
To take him then for owner of our lives:
For this ill is more keen than common ills.
And of essays most perilous is this,
Whether one good or evil do we take.
[tr. Webster (1868)]Of all things that have life and sense we women are the most hapless creatures; first must we buy a husband at an exorbitant price, and o'er ourselves a tyrant set which is an evil worse than the first; and herein lies the most important issue, whether our choice be good or bad.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But of all things as many as have life and intellect, we women are the most wretched race. Who indeed first must purchase a husband with excess of money, and receive him a lord of our persons; for this is a still greater ill than the former. And in this is the greatest risk, whether we receive a bad one or a good one.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Surely, of creatures that have life and wit,
We women are of all things wretchedest,
Who, first, must needs, as buys the highest bidder,
Thus buy a husband, and our body's master
So win—for deeper depth of ill is this.
Nay, risk is dire herein, -- or shall we gain
An evil lord or good?
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]Oh,
Of all things upon earth that bleed and grow,
A herb most bruised is woman. We must pay
Our store of gold, hoarded for that one day,
To buy us some man's love; and lo, they bring
A master of our flesh! There comes the sting
Of the whole shame. And then the jeopardy,
For good or ill, what shall that master be.
[tr. Murray (1906)]We women are the most unfortunate creatures.
Firstly, with an excess of wealth it is required
For us to buy a husband and take for our bodies
A master; for not to take one is even worse.
And now the question is serious whether we take
A good or bad one.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Surely, of all creatures that have life and will, we women
Are the most wretched. When, for an extravagant sum,
We have bought a husband, we must then accept him as
Possessor of our body. This is to aggravate
Wrong with worse wrong. Then the great question: will the man
We get be bad or good?
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Of all creatures that live and have understanding
We women are the wretchedest breed alive;
First, we must use excessive amounts of cash
To buy our husbands, and what we get are masters
Of our bodies. This is the worst pain of all.
In fact, this is no small struggle, whether he’ll be
A good or bad one.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Of all creatures that have breath and sensation, we women are the most unfortunate. First at an exorbitant price we must buy a husband and master of our bodies. [This misfortune is more painful than misfortune.] And the outcome of our life's striving hangs on this, whether we take a bad or a good husband.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]Of all creatures that have life and reason we women are the most miserable of specimens! In the first place, at great expense we must buy a husband, taking a master to play tyrant with our bodies (this is an injustice that crowns the other one). And here lies the crucial issue for us, whether we get a good man or a bad.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Of all the living things, of all those things that have a soul and a sense, we, yes we, the women, are the most pathetic!
Imagine!
We need to spend a fortune to buy us a man who -- what will he do? He will become the master of our bodies! And, it’s obvious, that this dangerous thing we do, becomes even more dangerous when we don’t find the right husband. Is he a good husband? Or is he a bad one? By the time you find that out it’s already too late.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Of all creatures that have life and reason
we women are the sorriest lot:
first we must at a great expenditure of money
buy a husband and even take on a master
over our body: this evil is more galling than the first.
Here is the most challenging contest, whether we will get a bad man
or a good one.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Of all things with life and understanding,
we women are the most unfortunate.
First, we need a husband, someone we get
for an excessive price. He then becomes
the ruler of our bodies. And this misfortune
adds still more troubles to the grief we have.
Then comes the crucial struggle: this husband
we have selected, is he good or bad?
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Of every creature that’s alive and capable of thought
We women are most wretched.
First we must buy a husband with a massive dowry,
then subject our bodies to his mastery --
and that's the worse of the two evils.
In this the stakes are very high -- whether we get
a bad man or a good one.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Of all things that have psūkhē and intelligence, we women are the most wretched creatures: first we must buy a husband at too high a price, and then acquire a master of our bodies—an evil thing [kakon] yet more evil [kakon].But in this lies the most important ordeal [agōn], whether our choice is good or bad [kakon].
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]Of all things that have life and sense, we women are most wretched. For we are compelled to buy with gold a husband who is also -- worst of all -- the master of our person. And on his character, good or bad, our whole fate rests.
[Source]
MEDEA: Men say we live a safe life in the home,
While they do battle with the spear.
But they are wrong; I’d rather stand three times
with shield in hand than give birth once.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: λέγουσι δ᾽ ἡμᾶς ὡς ἀκίνδυνον βίον
ζῶμεν κατ᾽ οἴκους, οἱ δὲ μάρνανται δορί,
κακῶς φρονοῦντες: ὡς τρὶς ἂν παρ᾽ ἀσπίδα
στῆναι θέλοιμ᾽ ἂν μᾶλλον ἢ τεκεῖν ἅπαξ.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 248ff (431 BC) [tr. Ewans (2022)]
(Source)
This passage was often used by woman suffragists.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:They still contend
That we, at home remaining, lead a life
Exempt from danger, while they launch the spear:
False are these judgements; rather would I thrice,
Arm'd with a target, in th' embattled field
Maintain my stand, than suffer once the throes
Of childbirth.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Yet will they say
We live an easy life, at home, secure
From danger, whilst they lift the spear in war:
Misjudging men; thrice would I stand in arms
On the rough edge of battle, e'er once bear
The pangs of childbirth.
[tr. Potter (1814)]But, say they, we, while they fight with the spear,
Lead in our homes a life undangerous:
Judging amiss; for I would liefer thrice
Bear brunt of arms than once bring forth a child.
[tr. Webster (1868)]And yet they say we live secure at home, while they are at the wars, with their sorry reasoning, for I would gladly take my stand in battle array three times o'er, than once give birth.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But they say of us that we live a life of ease at home, but they are fighting with the spear; judging ill, since I would rather thrice stand in arms, than once suffer the pangs of child-birth.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]But we, say they, live an unperilled life
At home, while they do battle with the spear.
Falsely they deem: twice would I under shield
Stand, rather than bear childbirth peril once.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]And then, forsooth, 'tis they that face the call
Of war, while we sit sheltered, hid from all
Peril! -- False mocking! Sooner would I stand
Three times to face their battles, shield in hand,
Than bear one child.
[tr. Murray (1906)]But we, they say, live a safe life at home,
While they, the men, go forth in arms to war.
Fools! Three times would I rather take my stand
With sword and shield than bring to birth one child.
[tr. Murray (1906), per Yeroulanos]They tell us we live a sheltered life at home while they go to the wars; but that is nonsense. For I would rather go into battle twice than bear a child once.
[Source (1927)]What they say of us is that we have a peaceful time
Living at home, while they do the fighting in war.
How wrong they are! I would very much rather stand
Three times in the front of battle than bear one child.
[tr. Warner (1944)]Men boast their battles: I tell you this, and we know it:
It is easier to stand in battle three times, in the front line, in the stabbing fury, than to bear one child.
[tr. Jeffers (1946)]And, they tell us, we at home
Live free from danger, they go out to battle: fools!
I'd rather stand three times in the front line than bear
One child.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]They say that we spend all our time at home,
And live safe lives, while they go out to battle.
What fools they are! I'd rather stand three times
Behind a shield, than bear a child once!
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Men say that we live a life free from danger at home while they fight with the spear. How wrong they are! I would rather stand three times with a shield in battle than give birth once.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]They say we live sheltered lives in the home, free from danger, while they wield their spears in battle -- what fools they are! I would rather face the enemy three times over than bear a child once.
[tr. Davie (1996)]Then people also say that while we live quietly and without any danger at home, the men go off to war. Wrong! One birth alone is worse than three times in the battlefield behind a shield.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]They say that we live a life free of danger
at home while they face battle with the spear.
How wrong they are. I would rather stand three times
in the line of battle than once bear a child.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)][...] I would rather stand behind a shield three times than give birth once.
[tr. @sentantiq (2011)]They say that we live a peaceful life at home, while they do battle at spear point, but they reckon wrongly: I would rather stand armed with a shield thrice than give birth once.
[tr. @sentantiq [Erik] (2015)]They say we live secure in our households [oikoi], while they are off at war -- how worthlessly [kakōs] they think! How gladly would I three times over take my stand behind a shield rather than once give birth!
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
CREON: A woman of hot temper — and a man the same —
Is a less dangerous enemy than one quiet and clever.[ΚΡΈΩΝ: Γυνὴ γὰρ ὀξύθυμος, ὡς δ᾽ αὔτως ἀνήρ,
ῥᾴων φυλάσσειν ἢ σιωπηλὸς σοφή.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 319ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
Expressing his mistrust of how reasonably, if tragically, Medea is presenting herself.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:For 'gainst those
Of hasty tempers with more ease we guard.
Or men or women, than the silent foe
Who acts with prudence.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]A woman, or a man, whose fiery spirit
Flames out with anger, puts us on our guard,
More than the prudent calmness that conceals
Its hate in silence.
[tr. Potter (1814)]For a woman passionate, yea and a man,
Is easier warded than a silent plotter.
[tr. Webster (1868)]For cunning woman, and man likewise, is easier to guard against when quick-tempered than when taciturn.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]For a woman that is quick to anger, and a man likewise, is easier to guard against, than one that is crafty and keeps silence.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]The vehement-hearted woman -- yea, or man --
Is easier watched-for than the silent-cunning.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]A woman quick of wrath, aye, or a man,
Is easier watching than the cold and still.
[tr. Murray (1906)]A sharp-tempered woman, or, for that matter, a man,
Is easier to deal with than the clever type
Who holds her tongue.
[tr. Warner (1944)]A woman, just like a man, who is quick to wrath
Is easier guarded than one wise and silent.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]A hot-tempered woman -- and a hot-tempered man likewise -- is easier to guard against than a clever woman who keeps her own counsel.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]A woman who is hot-tempered, and likewise a man, is easier to guard against than one who is clever and controls her tongue.
[tr. Davie (1996)]You’re too silent now and whilst it is easy to protect oneself from a hot-headed man or woman, it is impossible to do so when the woman is scheming and silent.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]For a quick-tempered woman -- the same goes for a man --
is easier to guard against than a silent clever one.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Passionate people, women as well as men,
are easier to protect oneself against,
than someone clever who keeps silent.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]It is easier to guard against a hot-headed woman, or a man, than against one who is scheming and silent.
[ed. Taplin (2016)]A woman of sharp temper or indeed a man is easier to guard against than one who's clever and stays silent.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]For a woman with a sharp thūmos, and likewise a man, is easier to guard against than a sophē one who is silent.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: Oh, what an evil power love has in people’s lives!
CREON: That would depend on circumstances, I imagine.
[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: Φεῦ φεῦ, βροτοῖς ἔρωτες ὡς κακὸν μέγα.
ΚΡΈΩΝ: ὅπως ἄν, οἶμαι, καὶ παραστῶσιν τύχαι.]
Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 330ff (431 BC) [tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
After Creon has spoken of how both love of his country and his children requires him to banish Medea. She has already faced Jason's love gone wrong as well, and her reaction to that will give end up in bad circumstances to all involved.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:MEDEA: To Mortals what a dreadful scourge is love!
CREON: As Fortune dictates, Love becomes, I ween,
Either a curse or blessing.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]MEDEA: Alas, what fatal ills love works to man!
CREON: That is, I ween, as fortune guides th' event.
[tr. Potter (1814)]MEDEA: Ah me! How great an ill to man is love!
CREON: That is, I doubt, as fortune waits on it.
[tr. Webster (1868)]MEDEA: Ah me! ah me! to mortal man how dread a scourge is love!
CREON: That, I deem, is according to the turn our fortunes take.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]MEDEA: Alas! alas! how great an ill is love to man!
CREON: That is, I think, as fortune also shall attend it.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]MEDEA: Alas! to mortals what a curse is love!
KREON: Blessing or curse, I trow, as fortune falls.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]MEDEA: O Loves of man, what curse is on your wings!
CREON: Blessing or curse, 'tis as their chances flow.
[tr. Murray (1906)]MEDEA: Oh what an evil to men is passionate love!
CREON: That would depend on the luck that goes along with it.
[tr. Warner (1944)]MEDEA: Ah! What an evil thing men’s loves are!
CREON: It all depends, I suppose, on how things turn out.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]MEDEA: Oh, what a bane is love to mortals.
CREON: I fancy that depends on the circumstances.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]MEDEA: Ah, the loves of mortal men! What a boundless source of woe!<
CREON: That would depend, I imagine, on the circumstances of each case.
[tr. Davie (1996)]MEDEA: Oh! What a dreadful thing love is!
CREON: It depends ...
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]MEDEA: Feu, feu [Aah, aah] mortal affections, how great an affliction they are!
CREON: That, I think, depends on the circumstances.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]MEDEA:Alas,
love’s a miserable thing for mortal men.
CREON: I think events determine if that’s true.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]MEDEA: Oh, how great an evil love is to mankind.
CREON: No, I am sure that depends on the circumstances.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]MEDEA: Ah me! Ah me! To mortals how great an evil [kakon] is love!
CREON: That, I suppose, is according to the turn our fortunes take.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
CREON:Now stay here, if you must,
This one day. You can hardly in one day accomplish
What I am afraid of.[ΚΡΈΩΝ: νῦν δ᾽, εἰ μένειν δεῖ, μίμν᾽ ἐφ᾽ ἡμέραν μίαν:
οὐ γάρ τι δράσεις δεινὸν ὧν φόβος μ᾽ ἔχει. ]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 355ff (431 BC)[tr. Vellacott (1963)]
(Source)
Creon lets Medea stay one more day before her exile begins, giving us the most ironic line in the play. Some scholars or translators omit or bracket these lines, since Creon has already said he will let her stay.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:But if thou needs must tarry, tarry here
This single day, for in so short a space
Thou canst not execute the ills I dread.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]One single day, if so thy needs require,
I will indulge thee; in that little space
Thou wilt not do the horrid deeds I dread.
[tr. Potter (1814)]But now if stay thou must, stay this one day;
Not so thou'lt compass any deed I dread.
[tr. Webster (1868)]So now, if abide thou must, stay this one day only, for in it thou canst not do any of the fearful deeds I dread.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]But now if thou must stay, remain here yet one day, for thou wilt not do any horrid deed of which I have dread.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Now, if remain thou must, remain one day --
Too short for thee to do the deeds I dread.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]So linger on,
If thou needs must, till the next risen sun;
No further. . . . In one day there scarce can be
Those perils wrought whose dread yet haunteth me.
[tr. Murray (1906)]But now, if you must stay, stay for this day alone.
For in it you can do none of the things I fear.
[tr. Warner (1944)]So remain, if you must, but only for one day.
You'll not do any of the terrible things I fear.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]Now stay, if stay you must, for one more day. You will not do the mischief I fear by then.
[tr. Kovacs (1994)]Stay, if you need to but just one more day.
In any case, what harm could you do me in such a short time?
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Now, if stay you must, stay for one day.
you can not do any dreadful deed of which I am in terror.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]So, if you must remain, stay one more day.
In that time you can’t do the harm I fear.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 421ff]But now, if you must stay, stay this one day;
you won't do any of the ghastly things I fear.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]So now, if you must remain, stay this one day only; for you will not do anything terrible [deinon] of which I am afraid.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: And furthermore we are women, unable to perform noble deeds, but most skillful architects of every sort of harm.
[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ:Πρὸς δὲ καὶ πεφύκαμεν
γυναῖκες, ἐς μὲν ἔσθλ᾽ ἀμηχανώταται,
κακῶν δὲ πάντων τέκτονες σοφώταται.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 407ff (431 BC) [tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]
(Source)
Euripides presses his thumb on the scales a little bit heavily here.
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Altho' by nature form'd
Without a genius apt for virtuous deeds.
We women are in mischiefs most expert.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]Nature form'd our sex to good
Of slight capacity, but to revenge
Of ready and inventive subtlety.
[tr. Potter (1814)]We women too art born
Most profitless indeed to noble works,
But cunningest devisers of all harms.
[tr. Webster (1868)]We women, though by nature little apt for virtuous deeds, are most expert to fashion any mischief.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Besides also we women are, by nature, to good actions of the least capacity, but the most cunning inventors of every ill.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]Yea, our woman-nature 'tis --
Say they -- to be most helpless for all good,
But fashioners most cunning of all ill.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]And God hath made thee woman, things most vain
For help, but wondrous in the paths of pain.
[tr. Murray (1906)]And women, though most helpless in doing good deeds,
Are of every evil the cleverest of contrivers.
[tr. Warner (1944)]We were born women -- useless for honest purposes,
But in all kinds of evil skilled practitioners.
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]And what is more,
We're women, quite unable to manage good
But none more skilled when it comes to doing harm.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]And furthermore we are women, unable to perform great deeds of valor, but most skillful architects of every evil.
[tr. Kovacs (Perseus)]What's more, we are women, quite helpless in doing good but surpassing any master craftsman in working evil.
[tr. Davie (1996)]We women might be awful at doing something good but we are very competent when we’re doing something evil. No one is better than us.
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]And besides we are
women, most helpless for the good,
but skilled craftsmen of all that is evil.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Besides, we possess a woman’s nature --
powerless to perform fine noble deeds,
but very skilled in every form of evil.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]Also we were born as women, very helpless when it comes to doing good, but very wise creators of all kinds of harm.
[tr. Ewans (2022)]And more than this, we are women, naturally most helpless [amēkhanai], when it comes to noble deeds [esthla], but for all evils [kaka] we are most skilled [sophai] contrivers.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]
MEDEA: O Zeus, why did you give men certain ways
to recognize false gold, when there’s no mark,
no token stamped on the human body,
to indicate which men are worthless.[ΜΉΔΕΙΑ: ὦ Ζεῦ, τί δὴ χρυσοῦ μὲν ὃς κίβδηλος ᾖ
τεκμήρι᾽ ἀνθρώποισιν ὤπασας σαφῆ,
ἀνδρῶν δ᾽ ὅτῳ χρὴ τὸν κακὸν διειδέναι
οὐδεὶς χαρακτὴρ ἐμπέφυκε σώματι;]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Medea [Μήδεια], l. 516ff (431 BC) [tr. Johnston (2008)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Other translations:Wherefore, O Jove, didst thou instruct mankind
How to distinguish by undoubted marks
Counterfeit gold, yet in the front of vice
Impress no brand to shew the tainted heart?
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]O Jove, why hast thou given us certain proof
To know adulterate gold, but stamp'd no mark,
Where it is needed most, on man's base metal?
[tr. Potter (1814)]Oh Zeus why hast thou given mankind sure test
To know the spurious gold, while upon men
Is no mark born whereby to tell a knave?
[tr. Webster (1868)]O Zeus! why hast thou granted unto man clear signs to know the sham in gold, while on man's brow no brand is stamped whereby to gauge the villain's heart?
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]O Jove, why I pray hast thou given to men certain proofs of the gold which is adulterate, but no mark is set by nature on the person of men by which one may distinguish the bad man.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]O Zeus, ah wherefore hast thou given to men
Plain signs for gold which is but counterfeit,
But no assay-mark nature-graven shows
On man's form, to discern the base withal?
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]O great God, shall gold withal
Bear thy clear mark, to sift the base and fine,
And o'er man's living visage runs no sign
To show the lie within, ere all too late?
[tr. Murray (1906)]O God, you have given to mortals a sure method
Of telling the gold that is pure from the counterfeit;
Why is there no mark engraved upon men's bodies
By which we could know the true ones from the false ones?
[tr. Warner (1944)]O Zeus! Why have you given us clear signs to tell
True gold from counterfeit; but when we need to know
Bad men from good, the flesh bears no revealing mark?
[tr. Vellacott (1963)]Zeus, why did you give to men clear signs
To distinguish counterfeit gold from true, but as for
Humans, no stamp is impressed on their bodies
By which the bogus ones can be discerned?
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]O Zeus, why, when you gave to men sure signs of gold that is counterfeit, is there no mark on the human body by which one could identify base men?
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]O Zeus, why is it you have given men clear ways of testing whether gold is counterfeit but, when it comes to men, the body carries no stamp of nature for distinguishing bad from good?
[tr. Davie (1996)]Oh Zeus! You gave such obvious signs for men to tell the difference between genuine gold and fake and yet you gave not a hint for people to tell who’s a good man and who an evil one!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]Oh Zeus! Why have you given us a clear test
of gold to tell which is counterfeit
but of men — where to identify an evil one would be useful —
there is no such mark on his body?
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]Oh Zeus, why have you given us clear signs to tell if gold has been adulterated, but tehre's no sign upon the body of a man by which we can find out who's evil?
[tr. Ewans (2022)]Why, Zeus? Why did you give to men clear ways of knowing the counterfeited gold, while on men’s body no brand [kharaktēr] is stamped by which to know the kakos?
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]O Zeus, why, when you gave to men sure signs of gold that is counterfeit, is there no mark on the human body by which one could identify bad men?
[tr. Kovacs / Zhang / Rogak]
ORESTES: A terrible thing is the mob, whenever it has villains to lead it.
PYLADES: But with honest leaders its counsels are always honest.[Ὀρέστης: δεινὸν οἱ πολλοί, κακούργους ὅταν ἔχωσι προστάτας.
Πυλάδης: ἀλλ᾽ ὅταν χρηστοὺς λάβωσι, χρηστὰ βουλεύουσ᾽ ἀεί.]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
Orestes, ll. 772-773 [Orestes] (408 BC) [tr. Coleridge (1938)]
(Source)
Original Greek. Alt. trans.:ORESTES: Ah, my friend! When mobs have rotten leaders they are likely to do all sorts of nasty things.
PYLADES: It's a very different story when their leaders are wise, though ....
[tr. Theodoridis (2010)]ORESTES: The mob is frightening when their leaders are criminal.
PYLADES: But when they have good one, their decisions are good.
[tr. Luschnig (2013)]ORESTES:
The mob is nasty, when it has leaders
bent on doing wrong.
PYLADES:
But when it’s controlled
by decent men, the decisions they make
are always good.
[tr. Johnston (2020), ll. 938-940]The masses are terrible whenever they have scoundrels as leaders.
[tr. @sententiq (2020)]
Ah, shall my white feet in the dances gleam
The livelong night again? Ah, shall I there
Float through the Bacchanal’s ecstatic dream,
Tossing my neck into the dewy air? —
Like to a fawn that gambols mid delight
Of pastures green.[ἆρ᾽ ἐν παννυχίοις χοροῖς
θήσω ποτὲ λευκὸν
πόδ᾽ ἀναβακχεύουσα, δέραν
865εἰς αἰθέρα δροσερὸν ῥίπτουσ᾽,
ὡς νεβρὸς χλοεραῖς ἐμπαί-
ζουσα λείμακος ἡδοναῖς]Euripides (485?-406? BC) Greek tragic dramatist
he 1 [Chorus/Χορός] (405 BC) [tr. Way (1898)]
(Source)
(Source (Greek)). Alternate translations:When shall I join the midnight dance,
With agile step my comrades lead,
And as our festive choirs advance
Triumphant over enaml'd mead,
My heaving bosom to the dewy gale
Expand, high bounding like a fawn
Who gambols o'er the verdant lawn.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]Shall I move my white foot in the night-long dance, aroused to a frenzy, throwing my head to the dewy air, like a fawn sporting in the green pleasures of the meadow.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]O when, through the long night,
With fleet foot glancing white,
Shall I go dancing in my revelry,
My neck cast back, and bare
Unto the dewy air,
Like sportive fawn in the green meadow's glee?
[tr. Milman (1865)]Then shall it be that all night long
My feet shall hurry through the dance,
Then shall I in new jollity
Toss to the dewy breeze my neck,
As jocund as the tender fawn
Who sports athwart the grassy mead.
[tr. Rogers (1872), l. 823ff]Will this white foot e’er join the night-long dance? what time in Bacchic ecstasy I toss my neck to heaven’s dewy breath, like a fawn, that gambols ’mid the meadow’s green delights.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]Will they ever come to me, ever again,
The long long dances,
On through the dark till the dim stars wane?
Shall I feel the dew on my throat, and the stream
Of wind in my hair? Shall our white feet gleam
In the dim expanses?
Oh, feet of a fawn to the greenwood fled,
Alone in the grass and the loveliness.
[tr. Murray (1902)]When shall I dance once more
with bare feet the all-night dances,
tossing my head for joy
in the damp air, in the dew,
as a running fawn might frisk
for the green joy of the wide fields.
[tr. Arrowsmith (1960)]Shall I in night-long dances
ever set white
foot in bacchic celebration, hurling
my throat to the dewy air of heaven,
like a fawn playing in the green
pleasures of a meadow?
[tr. Kirk (1970)]O for long nights of worship, gay
With the pale gleam of dancing feet,
With head tossed high to the dewy air --
Pleasure mysterious and sweet!
O for the joy of a fawn at play
In the fragrant meadow's green delight.
[tr. Vellacott (1973)]I seek release to as calm
of green hills, white thighs
Flashing in the grass
The dew-soaked air kissing my throat.
[...]
But gently, as the dance of the young deer, swathed
In emerald meadow.
[tr. Soyinka (1973)]In the nocturnal choruses
shall I ever set my stepping
in bacchanti sing, to toss my throat into the dewy sky?
like a frolicking fawn in the greening joy of the meadowland?
[tr. Neuburg (1988)]When, oh when,
in an all-night trance
shall I dance again,
bare feet flashing, head rushing
through the coolness of leaves,
like a fawn that frolics
in the green delights of the forest.
[tr. Cacoyannis (1982)]Will I set my bare foot
Then in dancing vigils
Rousing bacchic frenzy,
Shake my throat in the dewy air,
Like a fawn in green joy
Sporting in a meadow?
[tr. Blessington (1993)]Shall I ever move
my white feet in the all-night dances
breaking forth into Bacchic frenzy
tossing my neck back
into the dewy air
like a fawn sporting amid the green delights of the meadow?
[tr. Esposito (1998)]To dance the long night!
Shall I ever set my white foot
so, to worship Bacchus?
Toss my neck to the dewy skies
as a young fawn frisks
in green delight of pasture?
[tr. Woodruff (1999)]Will I ever celebrate
All night with white foot
Flashing in the Bakkhic dance?
Well I ever fling back
My head and let the air
Of heaven touch my throat
With dew, like a fawn at play
In the green joy of meadows?
[tr. Gibbons/Segal (2000), l. 884ff]Shall I ever in the nightlong dances
move my white feet
in ecstasy? Shall I toss
my head to the dewy heaven
like a fawn that plays
amid green meadow delights?
[tr. Kovacs (2002)]Soon shall we know again
The night-long dance,
Silver moonlit feet,
Head, in bliss, flung back
To the icy air.
A fawn at play in meadows.
[tr. Teevan (2002)]I wish!
I wish that one day I’d be able to take part in the Bacchic dances, those all night dances of joy!
I wish that one day I’d be able to see my white feet kick high to the rhythm of those dances!
And
I wish that one day I could rush with my fawn skin through the cool breeze like a fawn does.
[tr. Theodoridis (2005)]Shall I ever in nightlong dances
Shake my fair white foot
in Bacchus' madness, tossing my
Hair to the nightwind of heav'n?
Like a fawn frolicking races
through green meadow pastures ....
[tr. Valerie (2005)]O when will I be dancing,
leaping barefoot through the night,
flinging back my head in ecstasy,
in the clear, cold, dew-fresh air --
like a playful fawn celebrating
its green joy across the meadows.
[tr. Johnston (2008), l. 1060ff]Shall I dance them again, the nightlong dances?
Dance again with bare feet in the dew?
Shall I toss my head and skip through the open fields
as a fawn slipped free ...?
[tr. Robertson (2014)]Am I to dance?
To lift my feet the whole night through
with the frenzy of a god inside me?
Shall I bare my throat to the dewy air
like a fawn at play in the meadow,
where joy is green and wide?
[tr. Pauly (2019)]Shall I soon be free again to dance, to toss my head all night in the dew-filled air? Like a fawn [...] playing in the green joy of a meadow.
[tr. Behr/Foster (2019)]Shall I ever, in choruses that last all night long,
set in motion my gleaming white
foot in a Bacchic revel as I thrust my throat
toward the upper air wet with dew, yes, thrusting it forward.
-- just like a fawn playfully
skipping around in the green delights of a meadow
[tr. Buckley/Sens/Nagy (2020)]




