 Zeus, the Tragedian, by Lucian, Part I, translated by Howard Williams, 1837 to 1931. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Cast of Characters Timiclyse, read by Jennifer Pratt. Momus, read by Adam Bielka. Aphrodite, read by Soudalmasnon. Colossus, read by Neema. Demis, read by Adrian Stevens. Heracles, read by Alan Mapstone. Poseidon, read by George Diaz. Hermagorus, read by Stefan. Hermes, read by Campbell Sheldt. Apollo, read by Cahand. Athena, read by Lianya. Hera, read by Betsy Walker. Zeus, read by Aaron White. Stage Directions, read by Todd. Zeus, the Tragedian. Zeus, gloomy and in tragic distress, is implored by Hermes and Athena to divulge the cause of his melancholy condition, while Hera, true to her Homeric character, confidently attributes it to another earthly amor. The King of Gods and Men, thus adjured, announces the true reason of his anxiety, daring assaults upon the character of himself and the rest of the Olympian divinities, and in fact denial of their very existence by the skeptics, represented by an Epicurean philosopher named Demis, and the weakness of the arguments of their overzealous apologists, the Stoics, represented by a champion named Timiclyse. Which all important controversy, he had chance to overhear when present, on the day proceeding, at a sacrificial feast given to the gods and Athens. He proceeds to request the opinions of the three divinities upon the best course to be pursued in the emergency. Hera and Hermes propose a Council of the Gods, Athena, a private settlement of the business. The former opinion prevails, and Zeus directs Hermes to summon the rest of the gods to a general council, which the Olympian herald proceeds to do in the orthodox Homeric style, after some reluctance on account of his want of poetic skill, and in face of the discouraging example of Apollo, whose prophetic utterances, in verse, had become the object of so much ridicule. Some difficulty arises, at the outset, on the question of precedence, both because, the representative statues of the divinities being variously formed of gold, silver, ivory and bronze, it was a question whether it should be decided by the material or by the excellence of the workmanship, and also by reason of the numerous recent additions to their august body. Zeus rules that gold must have the preference. By this decision, the old established, genuine, Hellenic divinities find themselves forced to give way to the Nuvi hominus, not without much and protracted squabbling. In the end, by the ruling of the President, the members of the celestial senate have to take their places promiscuously on the principle of, first come, first served. Silence having been secured, Zeus rises to open the deliberations. An unaccustomed nervousness and hesitation threaten to spoil his exhortium, and even to ruin everything by raising suspicion of the soundness of their cause. At length, at the suggestion of Hermes, discarding the well-worn Homeric Exordium, he opens in the words of a famous oration of Demosthenes. He sets forth the cause of the summoning of the council, and reports the circumstances which led to his presence at the dispute between the Epicurean and the Stoic champions in the painted porch at Athens, and its fortunate interruption at a critical moment by the pressure of the crowd, with its consequent adjournment. The gods, whom age and standing permit, are then invited to deliver their several opinions upon the course of action to be adopted. Hermes, the censor of the Olympian court, rises, and with his usual candor, affirms that the objections and arguments of their avowed enemies are not at all to be wondered at, and in fact himself points to the prevalence of injustice and cruelty, the triumph of the bad, and the oppression and sufferings of the good on the earth. He takes occasion to ridicule the studied ambiguity and obscurity of Apollo in his irregular prophecies, and the mischiefs arising from them, and next criticizes the policy which admitted so many strange and outlandish divinities to the rites of Olympian godship. Beside Ned Apollo, next addressed the council, the former voting for violent and summary measures, nothing less in fact, than the destruction of Damas by a thunderbolt, in which opinion, later, he is vigorously supported by Heracles. The latter calls attention to the inferiority and confused and illogical method of their apologist, and advises that an associate advocate be supplied to him, to whom alone it should be allowed to speak, to Macleese acting merrily as his prompter. The opportunity is not lost by Momus, for sarcastic allusion to Apollo's own confused prophetic style, and, ridiculing the proposition of an associate advocate, he calls upon him opportunity to give some extemporary specimens of its irracular faculty. Thus urged, with much reluctance and diffidence, Apollo complies to the great entertainment of his censor. At this juncture, there arrives in hot haste, fresh from the yesterday's scene of verbal conflict at the painted porch, Hermagoras, a statuary, who, like the Ephesian town clerk, may be supposed to have been a not entirely disinterested well-wisher to the Olympian establishment. In Iambic verse, he announces the approaching renewal of hostilities, in the irracular strain so dear to Apollo, and so well known to readers of Herodomus, of Aristophanes, and of Lucian. The celestials arrange themselves in attitudes of eager expectancy, and the verbal duel below begins with a virtue-paravative onslaught, in which controversial virtue Zeus recognizes their champion's strength to lie, on the part of Tema-Cleese, and a dispute on the question upon which of the two rested the onus Purobandi. This being settled, at length, by the concession of Domus in favor of his opponent, the combatants engage in earnest. As the fortune of the day seems to incline to this side or that, the celestial spectators express, of course, like their hopes or fears. The latter, however, very greatly pondering. Domus not admitting to exercise his powers of sarcasm. Tema-Cleese, after vainly throwing overboard his sheet anchor, in the shape of a remarkable soligism, takes refuge, as his opponent tauntingly expresses it, at the altars. Domus, claiming the victory, now retires from the scene, pursued by the vertebration and even missiles and blows of his enraged antagonist. The celestial clients of Tema-Cleese disperse, consoled by the reflection of Hermes, that, in spite of all the arguments of the wicked philosophers, at all events the larger part of the world, Greek as well as barbarian, will continue to be on their side, and not cease to supply them with the rich themes of sacrifice. Zeus, however, cannot refrain from the expression of his feeling that he would rather have one such able champion as the Epicurean than a thousand conquests by stratagem or force. This masterpiece of illusion opens with the parodies, in exameter and iambic verse, of the Homeric epics, of Rupides and of the tragic poets. Zeus, the Tragedian. Zeus, Hera, Athena, Aphrodite. Apollo, Hermes, Poseidon, Heraclius, Colossus, Momus. Hermagorus, Tema-Cleese, Domus. Oh Zeus, why pensive maddersts inward words, repacing lonely as a student pale, to counsel, call me, cast on me thy care, scorn not thy servants, chat nonsensical. Thereby we all shall know it. What plotting north inwardly thy secret heart and vitals, or what draws out thy heavy moan, and stains thy cheek with pallor. Zeus, to himself. No dire disaster, so to say, exists. No woe, so terrible and tragical. But gods in heaven must toil beneath the load. Apollo, what an overture of speech. Zeus, to himself. Rascals, infernal nurslings of the earth, and thou, Prometheus, how deep thy stab. Say what? For only we thy friends will hear. Zeus, to himself. O were of lightning's mighty crash, what now wilt thou avail me? Calm your wrath, since we cannot all play comedy, Zeus, like these geniuses, nor have we swallowed Euripides' whole so as to respond to you in tragic guise. Do you suppose us not to know the cause of your grief, what it really is? Thou knowest not, else loud clamour wouldst thou raise. I know the real source of your sufferings. A love affair. However, from force of habit I no longer make a clamour, having been often before now insulted by you in that sort of thing. Likely enough, no doubt, you have found a denay, or a semile, or a Europa again, and are tormented by your passion, and so are planning to take the form of some bull or a satyr, or to become gold and flow in a stream through the roof into the bosom of your mistress. For these are the signs, these heavy sighs and tears and pallor, of nothing else than of love. Silly creature, to suppose our trouble to have anything to do with love and such trifles. But what else, if not this annoys you, considering you are Zeus himself? In dire peril affairs divine are placed, and here is the proverb verified, Hera. It now stands upon a razor's edge, whether we are to have honour any longer paid to us, and to have our accustomed honours on earth, or in fact to be old together neglected, and to have no reputation at all. The earth has not produced any giants again, has it, or have the Titans burst their chains and overpowered their guard, and do they once again take up arms against us? Fear not. No danger threatens from below. What else pray could there be to alarm? For I don't see, if something of the sort does not distress you, for what reason you leave your proper character and come out as another polis or aristotomous? Timmacles, the Stoic, and Damis, the Epicurian Hera, yesterday, from some discourse, or rather begun between them, were disputing on the subject of providence, in the presence of a very numerous and select audience. The circumstance which especially annoys me, and Damis affirmed that neither has the gods any existence, nor do they exercise any supervision at all over what happens on earth, while timidly's best of men endeavoured all he could to maintain our cause. At this juncture a dense mob surging against them there was no definite conclusion of the conference, for they separated after agreeing to consider the remaining arguments at some future time. And now all are in a state of suspense in regard to this discussion, as to which shall have the best of it and be judged to have the more truth on his side. You see the danger, how our interests are altogether in a straight, risked upon the ability of one man, and one of two things must happen. Either we must be despised and be voted mere names, or we are to be honoured as here to fore, supposing timidly shall have the best of the argument. A terrible state of things, this of a verity, and not without reason, Zeus, were you acting the tragedian under the circumstances? And you imagined that in such trouble I had thought of a denay, or an entire pee. What now, Hermes, and Hera, and Aphrodite, should we do? Do you together, according to your several ability, devise something? For my part I hold you should sum in an assembly, and refer the consideration of the matter to the whole body of the gods. I am exactly the same way of thinking. I, however, have the contrary opinion, Father, that we don't throw heaven into utter confusion, nor make it plain that you are disturbed by the occurrence, but manage this business privately. In such manner that Tmukli shall have the best of it in argument, and Damus leave the conference an object of thorough ridicule. But since the contests of the philosophers will be in public, these things will not be a known Zeus, and you will have the repute of being tyrannical, should you not throw open to all a discussion about matters of so much importance and general interest. Well then, make your proclamation at once, and let all of them put in an appearance, for you are right. Hermes, mounting the Bema. Halloo, I say, come together, you gods to a meeting. Don't loiter. Come all in a body, come. We shall discuss business of great importance. Is it in this bare, unornamental and prosaic style you make your proclamation, Hermes, and that, too, when you are summoning them on matters of highest importance? Well, but how, Zeus, do you require me to do it? How do I require you to do it? I say you ought to impart solemnity to your proclamation by some sort of verse, and with poetical magnilquence that they may be induced to assemble with more alacrity. Yes, but such is the business of verse-makers and professional reciders, while I am not the least of a poet. So I shall completely spoil my proclamation, by stringing together verses either with too many or too few feet, and shall be the object of their ridicule for my want of poetic skill. In fact, I observe that even Apollo himself is laughed at for some of his irracula responses, although his obscurity conceals the greater part of his blunders, as his hearers have not too much leisure for examining his metrical effusions. Then, Hermes, mix up in your proclamation chiefly verses from Homer in the manner he was want to convene us. Of course you call them to mind. Not so very accurately and readily, but all the same I will try. Much preliminary clearing of the throat. Let none of gods, whatever the sex, fail to obey my summons. Nor any river stay behind except the stream of ocean. Nor any nymph but haste ye all to swell the lofty council. Of Zeus, who ere at Hecateum's illustrations are feasted. Modest, however your rank, if mean or even stark, ignoble, come hither all, whoever sit beside the streaming altars. Oh, Hermes, you have performed your criers part most admirably, and indeed they are already rushing together. So take and seat them, each according to rank, as it belongs to him by reason of material or art. The golden in the front rank, then next to them the silver, next in due order all the ivory ones, after them the bronze or the marble. And among these same let those of Phideas or Alcaminis or Myron or Euphranor or of similar artists have the best places. As for these rabble and inartistic fellows, let them be crammed together somewhere at a distance and serve only to fill up the house's dummies. So it shall be, and they shall take their seats as is proper. But it's not so easy to know, when any one of them is of gold indeed, and of many hundred weight, but not perfect in workmanship, but plainly vulgar and plebeian, and badly proportioned. Shall he seat himself before the bronze gentleman of Myron, and of Polyclidus and of Phideas and the marble ones of Alcaminis, or must we consider art to have precedence? So it ought to be, but all the same preference must be given to gold. I understand you to direct me to seat them according to wealth and property, not according to excellence and real value. Come, then, to the front seats, you golden gentleman. In a whisper. The foreigners Zeus appear to be the only ones likely to occupy first places, for you observe of what description the Greeks are, elegant and good-looking enough and artistically fashioned, but nonetheless all of marble or bronze, or, at all events, the most costly of them are ivory. With just a little gold gilding so as merely to have a surface tint and veneer of that metal. But inside they are, in fact, all wooden, sheltering whole troops of rats, that form regular colonies there, while Bendis here, and that Anubis there, and Addis at his side, and Mithris and Meen are all of solid gold, and pretty costly, and no mistake. Is really this justice, Hermes, that this dog-faced fellow of Egypt should have placed before me, actually before Poseidon, God of the sea himself? Yes, but, Earthshaker, the Sipis fashioned you as a poor fellow of bronze, for the Corinthians had then no gold, and that is more precious than all the other metals put together. You must therefore submit to be thrust aside, and not be angry if a fellow with such a huge snout of gold has been preferred to you. In that case, Hermes, take me too, and give me a seat in the front row, for I am golden. Not as far as I can see, Aphrodite, but, unless I am altogether purblind, after Ben hewn out of white marble from Pentale, I imagine you then, at the good pleasure of Praxitels, became Aphrodite, and were handed over to the Nidians. Indeed, I have a very credible witness, I shall call to you, Homer himself, who up and down his boy Hems, calls me the Golden Aphrodite. I am satisfied that even your place in the assembly is not, in fact, among the lowest classes. With me, who would venture to compete, for I am the very son himself, and of size so enormous? If, to be sure, the Rhodians had not thought fit to construct me of so portentous and excessive dimensions, at an equal expense, they could have made for themselves sixteen gods of gold. With that, by the rules of proportion, I should be considered of all the greater value, and the artistic skill is to be counted into the bargain, and the perfection of the work in a statue of such magnitude. Hermes, aside to Zeus. What must I do, Zeus? For this, for me, at least, is a hard business to determine. For if I should regard solely the material, he is bronze. But if I should reckon at the cost of how many thousands he has been fabricated, he would be far above the first class claimants. Zeus, aside to Hermes. Why, what must he too needs come here for, to reproach the insignificance of the rest, and to be a nuisance to the company? To the Colossus. Well, but Hark you most excellent Rhodian, even if you are to be preferred to the utmost to your golden rivals, how in the world would you ever occupy the front place, unless all have to stand up, that you alone may be accommodated, and occupy the whole panics with one of your buttocks? So you will do better to give your vote standing up, and make your bow to the council. Here again is another difficult thing. They are both of them, in point of fact, bronze, and of the same workmanship. Each of them the work of Lysophus, and what is most important, are of the same rank as the berth, seeing both our sons of Zeus, Dionysus here and Heracles. Which of them, Bray, shall have precedence, for they are wrangling as you observe. We are wasting time, Hermes, whereas we ought long ago to have been at business. So now let them take their seats higgledy-piggledy, where each has a mind to, and at some future time a sitting shall be given to settle that point, and I shall know then what is the rank to assign to them. But, Heracles, what an uproar they make with their clamours for their vulgar and everyday wants. Dolls, dolls, where is our nectar? The ambrosia runs short. Where are the hecatomes? The sacrificial victims for the public. Silence them at once, Hermes, that they may learn on what account they have been assembled, and drop this nonsense. Not all of them, Zeus, understand Greek, and I am not much of a linguist, so as to make my proclamations intelligible to Tartars, and Persians, and Thracians, and Celts. It will be better, therefore, I imagine, to make signs, and in that way to enjoy silence. So do. Capital, they have become dumber than the philosophers themselves, so it is high time for you to harangue them. You observe they have been long regarding you fixedly, expecting what you will say. Zeus, aside to Hermes. Yes, but what my feelings are, Hermes, I will not shrink from imparting to you, as you are my son. You are aware how bold and magniliquent I always was in our public assemblies. I am, and I used to dread hearing your harangues, most especially when you would threaten to drag up from their foundations the earth and sea, and the gods and all, by simply letting down that golden chain of yours. However now, my son, I don't know whether it is from the magnitude of the present pressing dangers, or from the number of the company, for our parliament is crowded by the gods to in excess as you see. But I am utterly confused in mind, and am all of a tremble, and my tongue seems tied. But what is strangest of all, I have clean forgotten the exodium to my speech, which I have prepared for myself, so that it might have as specious a beginning as possible. Hermes, in a whisper. You have ruined everything, Zeus. They suspect your silence, and expect to hear some very great calamity as the cause of your hesitation. Would you have me then, Hermes, begin to recite to them that celebrated prelude of Homer. Which? Hear my words, all ye gods, and all ye goddesses, listen. Get out with you. Those introductory verses have been enough used up by you in our wine parties, but if you like, drop the bother of meter, and do you string together of the harangues of Demosthenes against Philip, whatever parts you choose, with a few variations? At least that's what most orators do nowadays. Excellent. A compendious sort of oratory, and a convenient and facile resource for those who are at a loss that you suggest. Lead off then. At last, pray. Zeus, mounting the Tribune. I think, gentlemen, gods, I mean, you would choose, before a good deal, that it should be clear to you what at length this matter in truth is, with respect to which you have been brought together. This being the case then, it is proper you should listen to me, with all attention. The present crisis, O gods, indeed all but declares aloud in words that we must vigorously apply ourselves to the matters before us while we seem to be very remiss in regard to them. Now, I desire, it demossed the news to confess the truth fails me here, to explain clearly to you the business about which I am so perturbed, and for which I convoked Parliament. Well, yesterday, as you know, on the occasion of Menestheus, the sea-captain offering a thanksgiving sacrifice for the safety of his ship, which had been all but lost off Caferius, we were feasting at the Peraeus, such of us as Menestheus invited to the sacrifice. Then, after the libations, you turned yourselves to your several occupations, each according to his fancy, but I, for it was not yet very late, went up to the city to have an evening walk in the Charamaecus, reflecting at the same time on the niggardliness of Menestheus, who, to entertain sixteen gods, slaughtered only a single cock, and that, too, a long since old and wheezy one, and four grains of exceedingly mouldy incense, so that it was at once consumed on the coals and did not afford as much smoke as could be smelled by even the tip of our nostrils. And that, though he promised whole hecatooms when his ship was just being carried on to the rocks and was actually within the breakers. And when pondering these things, I find myself near the stoa. I observe a very large crowd of people jammed together, some within, in the hall itself, but many in the open air, and some persons shouting and vehemently clamouring seated on the benches. Guessing then what indeed was the fact that these were philosophers of those contentious sort, I had a mind to stand by and listen to what they say. And, for I had enwrapped myself as it chanced in a cloud of the densest by disguising myself in their fashion, and by letting down my beard I had a pretty close resemblance to a philosopher. Well, I say, elbowing aside the crowd, I enter without being known who I was. There I find the Epicurean Damis, the practised villain, and Timicly's the stoic best of men, disputing with uncommon vehemence. Timicly's, in fact, was actually all in a perspiration and already becoming hoarse by his loud shouting, while Damis, making fun of him sardonically, still further provoked his antagonist. Their whole argument, for sooth, was about us. Why, that accursed Damis was affirming that neither do we exercise any providence over men nor superintend their actions, maintaining nothing else than our entire non-existence, for that plainly was what his argument amounted to. There were some who applauded him, but the other Timicly's took our part and fought for us vehemently, and fell into a passion and struggled for us in every possible way glorifying our providence and recounting with what beautiful order and suitable arrangement we plan and dispose each particular part. He also had some backers, but indeed he had already tired himself out, and was speaking badly, and the majority were beginning to fix their attention entirely on Damis. I, perceiving all that was imperiled, ordered Knight to envelop them and break up the meeting. Thereupon they went off, after agreeing to discuss the subject fully on the next day, and I, joining the crowds, listened to their praises of Damis's arguments while they were on their way to their homes, and already choosing his side in far the larger numbers. There were some, however, who thought it fair not to condemn beforehand the opposite arguments, but to wait to see if Timicly's shall say anything to the point tomorrow. These are the reasons for which I called you together. No trifling ones, O gods, if you shall consider how our whole honour and glory and revenue consist in men. If they should be persuaded either that we don't exist at all or that existing we are yet altogether regardless of them and all their concerns as far as regards the earth, we shall be deprived of victims, dignity or honour, and we shall sit idly in heaven, attacked by famine as we shall be deprived of the benefits of those feasts of theirs and their holy days and public games and sacrifices and vigils and solemn processions. Wherefore, in view of manners of such importance, I say that we ought all to devise some means of safety in our present circumstances, and by what means Timicly's shall conquer and be reputed to have more truth on his side and Damis be derided by the audience. For I, for my part, have not excessive confidence in this Timicly's that he will conquer by himself if he do not receive some help from us. Do then your herald's duty, Hermes, and make your proclamation according to the legal forms that they may all stand up and record their votes. Hermes, shouts. Attention! Silence! Order! Which of the full-grown gods who are privileged wishes to speak? How's this? No one get up. Ah! You are tongue-tied and dumbfounded at the bigness of the message, are you? May all of you, I pray, be turned straightway to earth and water. Now I, if I be allowed, at least, to speak with perfect freedom, should have a good deal to say, Zeus. Speak, Momus, with all boldness, for you are plainly going to unburden your mind freely for the public good. Here, then, all you gods, what comes from the heart, as they say? Why, I have been quite expecting our affairs to come to this pitch of perplexity, and that many sophistical fellows of this sort would sprout up against us, who would get from ourselves the source of their daring. And, by Themis, we have right to be angry, neither with Epicurus, nor with his associates and propagators of his arguments, if they have supposed such kind things about us. For what, pray, would anyone expect them to think, when they see such confusion in human life? Their good men neglected, perishing in poverty, and diseases, and slavery, while thoroughly bad and rascally men are preferred to honors, and abound in wealth, and lorded over their betters. The sacrilegious not punished, but getting off scot-free, the innocent impaled alive, or sometimes beaten to death? Naturally, then, when they see these things, do they determine thus about us, as non-existent at all? Especially when they hear the oracles pronounce that a certain man by crossing the Hallus will destroy a mighty kingdom, but don't explain, however, whether it is his own, or that of his enemies he will destroy. And again, by thee, O Salamis divine, children of women shall die. For, in fact, both Persians and Greeks, I imagine, were children of women. Nay, when they hear the epic poets and reciters, to the effect that we fall in love, and get wounded in battle, and serve as slaves, and are put in chains, and engage in civil wars, and have ten thousand troubles of every sort, and that, too, while we claim to be blessed and incorruptible, what else can they do, then laugh at us, and justly enough, and hold our power in contempt? However, we get into a rage if a few men, not entirely fools, convict us of these things, and reject our providence, whereas we ought to be content, if there are still any who sacrifice to us, after such scandalous behavior. And here, Zeus, for we are all by ourselves, and no human creature is present in this assembly, except Heracles, and Dionyses, and Ganymede, and Escapos, those illegally and registered gods there. Answer me truly, if you have ever had so much care for human affairs as to trouble your head as to who of them are bad, or who are good, but you cannot say you have, if, in fact, Thesis, on his way from Trezen to Athens, as a sort of diversion on the journey, had not exterminated those rascals, as far as depended on you and your providence, nothing would have prevented Scyron, and Pidio Camptis, and Chirkyon, and the rest from being now alive and reveling in the murders of travelers. Or, unless Eurystheus, a man of old-fashioned morality, and of some forethought, out of pure philanthropy, had investigated the condition of every people and dispatched his domestic care, pointing to Heracles, an active fellow and eager for adventures and toils, little you would have cared, Zeus, about the Hydra, and the Stemthalian Birds, and the Thrasian Horses, and the wanton and drunken insolence of the Santars. Nay, if the truth must be told, we sit here looking out only for this, whether there is anyone sacrificing and raising the fat steam of burnt offerings at the altars, while everything else is borne down the stream of fate, swept along as the chance of each directs. Accordingly, we now suffer what might have been expected, and we shall suffer still, when men, little by little, rising up from their prostrate condition, shall find that they get no profit by their sacrifices to us and religious processions. So, I suppose, in a short time, you will see the Epicuruses, and the Metrodauruses, and the Damascises, ridiculing us, and our advocates vanquished and effectually muzzled by them. So it should be your business to put a stop to and heal such scandals, since it was you gods who brought them to this pass. As for Momus, it will be no great matter to him, if he shall be disenfranchised, for not even in the good old times was he of the number of glorified ones, while you were yet in prosperity and feasting and reveling on the sacrifices. Let us leave this fellow gods, who is always morose and critical to go on talking his nonsense, for as said the admirable Demosthenes, to bring charges, to find fault, and to chide is an easy matter, and within the power of anyone who wants to do so, but to take measures how the present state of things shall be improved, that, of a verity, is the part of a wise counselor, and this, I am well assured, the rest of you will do, even though this fellow holds his tongue. Now, I, for my part, live mostly, as you know, underwater, and do my business at the bottom of the sea, as far as in me lies, and according to the best of my ability, protecting voyagers and escorting ships, and mitigating the violence of winds. All the same, however, for I take interest too in your affairs here, I affirm that we ought to put this Domus out of the way, before they come to the contest, either by a thunderbolt, or by some other contravance, for fear he get the better in argument, for you say Zeus, he is a persuasive kind of fellow, for we shall prove to them at the same time how we punish those who institute such critical inquiries to our damage. Are you joking, Poseidon, or have you entirely forgotten that nothing of this sort depends upon our power, but the fate spin out for each one his end, this one to die by a thunderbolt, another by the sword, a third by fever or consumption, for in fact were the matter in my power, should I have suffered, think you, those sacrilegious wretches the day before yesterday, to get away from Pisa without being knocked on the head with a thunderbolt, after having shorn me of two of my locks, which weighed each six pounds, or you, would you yourself have permitted with impunity at Grestus the fisherman from Aureus to filch away your trident, besides too we shall have the look of being in a rage, and of being downcast about the business, and of being afraid of the arguments of Dummies, and for that reason we shall be thought to have made away with the man, and not waited for him to pit himself against Timocles, so what else shall we have the repute of doing but of conquering in this way by default of the enemy? Indeed, I thought I had devised a short sort of cut to victory, by that method I did. Get away, a very fishy idea indeed, Poseidon, and quite too clumsy to murder one's adversary beforehand, that he may die unvanquished, and leave the controversy a drawn game, and undetermined. Poseidon, peevishly. Then devise something better, you others, since you throw my suggestions in this way to the Tunnies. If it had been permitted by law to us, who are still young and unprovided with the beard, to address the house, perhaps I might have contributed something useful to the discussion. Our deliberation, Apollo, is about matters of such importance, that leave to speak is not regulated by age, but is thrown open to all. For a pretty thing it would be if, while we were in extremist peril, we should split straws about legal qualification. And besides, you have, in this long while, been quite legally capable of speaking, for you have long ago emerged from the state of minorship, and have been inscribed on the register of the twelve, and are not so far from having been a member of the council in the time of Kronos himself. So don't affect youthful modesty with us, but speak boldly now your opinions, without bashfulness for having to harangue the house without a beard, and that, especially when you have a son, as Klepos, with so thick and fine grown a one. Besides, it was surely fitting for you most particularly, to show off your wisdom on the present occasion, unless you sit on Helicon, philosophizing with amuses, to no purpose. But it's not for you, Momus, to give such permission, but for Zeus. And should he bid me, I might perhaps, say something not altogether unworthy of the muses, but be fitting our meditative studies on Helicon. Speak, my child, for I give full permission. This Timocles is indeed a good and pious man, and he has thoroughly acquired the methods of argument of the Stoics. So that he associates, in fact, with many of the youth, for the purpose of teaching them philosophy, any pockets no small pay upon this account, for he is exceedingly persuasive whenever he disputes in private with his pupils. But in a crowd, he is very timid in speaking, and is vulgar and provincial in language, so as to incur ridicule in his controversies on that account, from not connecting his sentences, but stammering and getting confused. Particularly when, through such is his peculiarity, he wishes to show off his graces of oratory. For in mere intelligence indeed, he is acute and subtle to an excess, as say those who best know the learning of the Stoics. But in speaking and expounding, he spoils and confuses it by this weakness, as he does not explain his meaning clearly, but offers arguments very like riddles. In besides, replies much too ambiguously to the questions put to him, and people who don't understand him laugh outright at him. One ought, however, I imagine, to speak with clearness, and to pay great attention to this point especially, that one's hearers shall understand one. You are perfectly right in this, Apollo, in commending those who speak clearly, even though you do not yourself altogether practice it in your oracles, for you are ambiguous and enigmatic and safely marshal them, for the most part, in a neutral position between both camps, so that the hearers want another Pythian Apollo to interpret them. But what do you advise next? What remedy to apply to the feebleness of timidly is an argument? To supply Momus, if by any means we can, another as his mouthpiece. One of those clever fellows, to speak suitably what the other may think out and suggest? The remark that of a beardless youth with a vengeance, and who still needs his tutor that his mouthpiece should take his stand by his side, in a conference of philosophers to act as interpreter of the sentiments of timidly to the audience, and that Damus should speak in his own person, and by his own mouth, while the other have the aid of a public interpreter, to privately whisper in his ear, and prompt him to speak his own sentiments. And an interpreter is to act the orator, who probably even does not understand himself what he hears. How can these things not be a source of ridicule for the multitude? Nay, let us consider this matter in a different fashion, and you, Excellencer, for you profess, in fact, to be a prophet, and have procured no small quantity of prophet for such work, so far even as before, now to have received gold bricks. Why did you not seasonally exhibit to us your art, by predicting which of the philosophers will come off conqueror in the dispute? For you know, I presume, what will be the result, as you are a prophet? How is it possible to do so, Momus, when neither my tripod is at hand, nor alter incense, nor irracular fountain, like Castalia? Though you are caught in a corner, you are for escaping conviction. All the same, my child, speak, and don't afford this columniator here a handle for columniating and mocking at your art, as though it depended upon a tripod in water and incense, as though, if you have not these appliances, you would be deprived of the power of exercising your art. It were better, Father, to perform such functions at Delphi, or Colophone, with all my useful tools at hand, as is my want. All the same, even though thus destitute of those things and unequipped, I will do my endeavor to prophesy to which of the two the victory will belong. But will you bear with me, if I should not speak in regular meter? Speak, but only clearly, Apollo, and not verses, that themselves need a mouthpiece or interpreter. For, indeed, there will be no lamb's flesh and tortoise boiling just now in Lydia, but you are aware what our deliberation is about. Zeus, to Apollo, and whom the signs of the prophetic flottis are visible. What in the world are you going to say, my child, for the preludes to your oracular deliverances they are, as it is already alarming enough. Your complexion has completely changed colour, and your eyes roll in your head, and your hair stands on an end, and your movements are choribantic, and your whole appearance betokens possession, and is horrifying and mystic in the extreme. Hear the prophetic word divine of me, the seer, Apollo, about the chilly strife of tongues which men sharp-screaming jabber with closely fitted argument accoutre'd as with armour. By hubbub of alternate cluck, triumphant hither, thither, they many a vessel's stern strike down of oft-repassing plow-tail. But if the vultures crooked grasp, sharp-talloned, seize the breast, then shall the crows, who augure rain, their last forebodings, utter. The mules are victors, but the ass shall butt his fleeter children. Why do you burst out laughing, Momus? Surely the circumstances before us are no laughing matter. Stop, wretch! You will literally be choked by your hilarity. And how is it possible, Zeus, not to be choked by such a clear and transparent oracle? Then be so kind as at once to interpret its meaning for us. Excessively clear and simple are the verses, so that we shall have no need of a thymistic lease. For the divine oracle says thus explicitly that this profit is a quack, and that we are a set of pack-asses by Zeus and mules for putting faith in him, and have not even as much sense as a lot of locusts. Well, Father, although I am only a resident alien, all the same I, for my part, will not shrink from declaring my opinion. As soon as ever they meet for discussion, then, should timidly's have the better of it, we will allow the controversy to proceed in our favour. But if something underwater should fall out, at that moment I will myself, if you like, give a tremendous shake to the stowa itself and bring it on Damus' head, so that, curious rascal as he is, he may not go on with his insolent talk against us. Heracles, oh Heracles, that is a buccalical and terribly boesian remark of yours, with one worthless fellow to destroy such a number of people, and the stowa into the bargain with Marathon and Miltiades and Canarygas, and all. And how, if all this perished at one blow, could the Orators ever again flourish their oratory, deprived as they would be, of the greatest subject for their speechifying? Besides, when you were alive on the earth, it was, perhaps, possible for you to affect this, but since you have become a god, you have learned, I presume, that the fates alone can do such things and that we have no control over them. Then, even if I killed the lion or the hydra, was it the fates that performed those actions through me? Most certainly. And now, if anyone be insolent to me, by plundering my temple or overturning my statue, unless it may have been long ago decreed by the fates, I am not to knock him on the head. Certainly not. Then just hear me, Zeus, speak my mind freely. For, as the comic poet says, I am rough and ready, calling a spade a spade. If such is the state of our affairs, I will bid a long farewell to your dignities here in heaven and your sacrificial steam and bloody victims. And I will go down to the infernal regions where even the ghosts of the monsters I killed will be afraid of me with my bow. Stripped and naked, though I should be. Excellent! The hostile witness is found at home, as they say. By your suggestions to Dhamis you save him at all events trouble. But, who is this coming towards us in all haste, this blacksmith, this graceful, this well-formed gentleman, he who is so old-fashioned in the style of wearing his hair? Nay, rather he must be your brother, Hermes, he of the marketplace who stands by the painted stowa. At all events he is besmeared from top to toe with pitch, by having impressions taken off him every day by the statuaries. Why, my child, have you come here at such a racing speed? Do you, I wonder, bring any news from earth? Exceeding important news, Zeus, and requiring serious attention. Say it once if some new revolt has broken out without our knowledge. Just now, my breast and back, in pitchy clay, by copper-working men, was plastered ore. Around my body swung right ludicrous a breastplate, framed by imitative art, all as mere molding for a copper seal. Then saw I crowds approaching, mid them two pallid, high brawling, fisticuffers keen with quibbling logic. Damus, one was called, the other. Stop, most excellent termigoras, your manufacture of iambics, for I am aware whom you mean. But tell me this, whether the clash of battle has long begun between them? Not yet. They were still skirmishing, engaging one another with light artillery, and verchuporating one another, somewhere or other, at safe distance. What further than remains for us to do, gods, than to stoop down and listen to them? So let the hours remove the bars and chains at once, and dispelling the clouds, let them throw wide the gates of heaven. Starting back in alarm. Heracles, what a multitude have met together to hear the philosophic disputation. But this Timocles does not altogether please me. He is all of a tremble and confused. That man will ruin everything today. It is plain it all events he will never be able to raise himself even to the level of Damis. However, what is most in our power, let us pray for him. In silence to ourselves indeed, lest Damis chance to hear us. End of Zeus the Tragedian Part 1. Zeus the Tragedian by Lucian Part 2. Translated by Howard Williams, 1837 to 1931. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The scene changes from heaven to the Stoopakali at Athens. What do you say, you robber of temples, that the gods don't exist nor exercise any providential care over men? No, but you first of all answer me. By what reasoning were you persuaded that they do exist? Certainly I shall not, rather do you, abominable villain, reply to me. No, indeed you rather, make answer to me. Zeus, looking up from his drap door. A friend so far exhibits his wrath in much better and more euphonious fashion. Bravo, Timocles, pour out upon him all the vials of your vituperative powers, for in that lies your strength, since in other respects he will shut you up and make you as dumb as a fish. No, Byathena, no, I will not answer you first. Then pray put your questions, Timocles, for you have conquered me by that oath, but without bad language, if you please. You say well, tell me then, accursed villain, do you not believe the gods exercise providence? By no means. What do you say? Do all these things, pray, go on without providential interference? Yes. And is the care of the universe not placed under the superintendence of any god at all then? No. And are all things borne along at random by irrational impulse? Yes, to markle these, to the audience. And so you good people endure to hear this, and you will not stone the impious sinner? Why do you incite the people against me, Timocles, or who are you to be angry on behalf of the gods? But when they themselves are not angry. At all events they have taken no very severe measure against me, though they have heard me this long time, supposing they do hear. Yes, Damus, they hear you, they do hear, and they will punish you sooner or later, hereafter. And when could they have leisure to look after me, seeing they have, as you say, so much business on their hands in administering the affairs of the universe infinite in number? So that they have not even yet punished you for the perjuries you are constantly committing, and the rest of your crimes, on which I am silent, that I may not myself be compelled to use vituperative language, contrary to our agreement? Yet I do not see what other greater proof of their providence they could produce than by making a miserable end of a miserable man like you. But they are evidently away from home, beyond the ocean, perhaps, with the blameless Ethiopians. At least it was their custom constantly to go to them to dinner, sometimes to at their own invitation. What can I say to such shameless ribaldry? That particular thing which I have for some time been longing to hear from you, Timocles, how you were persuaded to think that the gods exercised providential care? Well, the ordinary arrangement of all nature in the first place persuaded me. The sun always holding the same course, and the moon in the same way, and the revolving seasons, and the growing vegetation, and the birth of animated beings, and these same animals furnished with so beautiful a mechanism so as to feed themselves and to be capable of reflection, and of movement, and of walking, and of doing carpentry, and making shoes, and all the rest, do not these things appear to you to be the actions of a rational provision? You are, I take it, begging the very thing in question, for it is not yet proved whether each of these things is affected by rational provision. But that the order of nature is such as you say I could readily affirm myself. It is not, however, a necessary conclusion to be persuaded forthwith that it comes about by any intelligent contrivance, for it is possible that, having begun fortuitously, the universe is now kept together similarly and after a like fashion. But you call their orderly arrangement necessity. Next you'll get into a rage, I suppose, should one not follow you in your enumeration and eulogy of all things that happen, of whatever sort, and in your belief that they are a proof of the intelligent ordering of each one of them by providential design, so that, according to the comic poet, too wretched this, another plea produce. I do not believe there is need of any further demonstration upon this matter, all the same, however, I will ask, and answer me then. Do you think Homer to be a most excellent poet? Of course. I believed him, then, when he declares the providence of the gods. Well, admirable sir, all persons will concede to you that Homer was a good poet, but not that of such matters either he or any other poet is a trustworthy witness. For they care not for truth, I imagine, but for enchanting their hearers, and therefore they charm them by their verses and instruct them by their fables, and in fine use every device with a view to delighting. However, I should be truly glad to hear by which of Homer's verses you were especially persuaded. Was it perhaps those in which he speaks of Zeus, how his daughter and brother and wife formed a conspiracy to put him in fetters, and a anesthetist as cognizant of the occurrence had summoned Briarus, our most excellent Zeus, would have been carried off and actually put into prison in return for which good offices, according to mind his depth of gratitude to Thetis, he deceives Agamemnon by sending him a certain lying dream so that many of the Achaeans perished. Do you observe? It was impossible for him to hurl his thunderbolt and burn up Agamemnon there on the spot without acquiring the reputation of an imposter. Or is it hearing these particulars that have chiefly forced you into belief? So Diomedes wounded Aphrodite and afterwards Ares himself at the instigation of Athena and how a little after the gods themselves engaged in battle and fought duels, ladies and gentlemen indiscriminately, and how Athena conquers Ares, as he has been, I suppose, beforehand disabled by the wound which he received from Diomedes. Luck bringer Hermes stout defied the deity of Leto. Or do those stories about Artemetis appear to you particularly worthy of credit when she complains and is indignant, because she was not invited by Onus to a feast and accordingly sends a certain wild boar of huge size and irresistible strength against his country? Is it indeed by such narratives that Homer has persuaded you, pray? Zeus, in alarm to the gods. Bless me how the mob shout applause of Damis, while our man seems like one in despair. He is certainly afraid and is all of a tremble and evidently is on the point of throwing away his shield and already is casting about how he shall steal away an escape. Does not even Euripides, pray, seem to you to speak with any reason? Whenever he mounts the gods themselves upon the stage and represents them as protecting the good heroes and crushing the wicked and wickedness such as yours? But most admirable of philosophers, if the tragic poets by so doing have persuaded you, one of two things must follow, either that you regard Polus and Aristodemus and Satyrus on those occasions as divine, or the very masks of the gods and the tragic boots and the long flowing dresses and the short mantle and the flowing sleeves and the false porches and paddings and the other things by which they give the grandeur to tragedy, a supposition, which I presume to be highly ridiculous, for whenever Euripides in his own person is speaking his own opinions, when the requirement of the dramatic action does not constrain him, hear him declaring boldly, cease thou this vast expanse of air above in whose moist arms our earth is firmly poised, that, that for Zeus, that only God accept. And again, who are Zeus be for naught of him I know but by report and the like? Have all mankind then and all nations been deceived in believing in gods and solemnly celebrating them? Capital, Timocles, for you bring to my mind the received belief among different nations, from which one may most certainly be assured that their language about dirty has nothing sure or certain about it. For many are there confused contradictions and some believe and practice one thing and some another, the Scythians offer sacrifices to a dagger, the Thracians to Zamulksis, a runaway slave who came to them from Samos, the Phrygians to Meen, the Ethiopians to the day, the Kylenians to Phales, the Assyrians to a dove, the Persians to fire, the Egyptians to water. Although this water is divinity common to all the Egyptians, yet locally the ox is the divinity of the people of Memphis, the onion of the people of Pelusium, the ibis of others, or the crocodile, the dog-faced baboon, the cat or the ape. Nay, more in the country districts to some his godship is the right shoulder, while to those living on the opposite side of the river he is the left shoulder, to some half of the head, to others a drinking flagon, or dish of earthenware. How is all this not matter for ridicule, you charming Timokles? Momas, triumphantly. Did I not say, gods, that all these things would come to light and would be minutely inquired into? You did say so, Momas, and you rightly chided us, and I, for my part, will do my best to set these matters straight. If we get clear off from this danger before us. But, you enemy of the gods, the oracles and prophecies of future events, whose work would you affirm them to be, rather than that of the gods and of their providence? Don't say a word, excellent sir, about the oracles, since I shall ask you which of them in particular you would like to mention. Is it the one which the Pythian returned to the Lydian, which was beautifully two-edged and double-faced, such as some of our Hermae, double and alike on both sides, to which ever part of them you turn? For what did it mean, that Croesus, by crossing the river Hallease, will destroy his own kingdom, or rather that of Cyrus? Yet that pest of Sardis purchased this ambiguous verse at the cost of not a few thousands. The man is discussing and handling pretty nearly the very things, gods, which I especially had dreaded. Where now is that handsome loot-player of ours? To Apollo. Go down at once, and make your defence and reply to these charges. You kill me entirely, Momus, by your unseasonable sarcasms. Observe what you are about, you impious sinner. You are within an ace of overturning the very seats of the gods and their altars by your argument. Not all the altars, as far as I am concerned, Timocles, for what great harm indeed arises from them, so long as they are full of incense and pleasant odours only. But I should be glad to see those of Artemis among the Tauri utterly overturn from their foundations, upon which the virgin goddess finds pleasure in such horrid feasting. Zeus, with tragic air. Whence falls upon us this insuperable misfortune? For not one of the divinities does the man spare, but is as free in language as a carter, one after other, carping at innocent or guilty. Indeed, Zeus, you would find few innocent among us. And it is just possible the fellow will proceed and attack even some one of those nearest the throne. So then, do you not heed or hear Zeus, even when he rolls his thunders, you enemy of the gods? And how could I fail to hear thunder, Timocles? But whether it is Zeus who thunders, you might know better than I, as you have come perchance from that quarter direct from the gods. Yet some who come from Crete tell us a different tale that a certain tomb is shown there and that a column stands close by informing us that Zeus would never thunder again, as he had been dead ages ago. This I long ago knew the man would say, but why, Zeus, pray, have you turned so pale? And why do you let your teeth chatter so with fright? You must keep up your spirits and never mind such paltry fellows. How do you say, Momus? Never mind them? Don't you see what a number are listening and how already they have been convinced, one and all against us, and how Damis has fast-fattered them and how he leads them away by the ears. However, Zeus, whenever you care to do so, you may let down your golden chain and all of them aloft you draw with earth itself and see and all with them. Tell me, cursed rascal, have you ever before been at sea? Yes, Timokles, often. Then were you not, on those occasions, carried along either by the wind blowing upon the mainsail and filling out the stay sails or by the rowers? And did a certain single individual stand at the helm and guide and keep the ship safe? Undoubtedly. Then, I suppose, the ship did not proceed on its voyage without being steered. And think you that this universe is carried along without a helmsman and a ruler? Capital! That argument of yours, Timokles, you drove home with force by your simile. But, O Timokles, cherished favourite of heaven. That same helmsman you would see to be always devising for the best and fully equipping his ship before the time of sailing and giving directions to his sailors while the vessel had nothing useless or purpose less about it, nothing which was not undoubtedly serviceable and necessary to them for the voyage. This helmsman of yours, however, whom you claim to have command of, this great ship of the universe and his fellow sailors, arranged nothing reasonably or fittingly, but the mainstays, if chance so direct, are stretched to the stern, while both the sheet-ropes are stretched towards the prow and anchors often are of gold, the figurehead of lead, and parts of the ship below water are ornamented, the parts above, unsightly. And of the sailors themselves, you may see the one who is idle and unskillful and without heart for his work in the position of the second or third officer and another who is a skillful swimmer and agile in leaping up into the yard arm and who is skilled in each thing pertaining to useful navigation, he is just the only one you will see set to bail out the bilgewater. So, too, among the passengers you will see some worthless fellow seated by the side of the captain in the most commanding place and being made much of and another some unnatural wretch or parasite or swindler honoured above all the rest and occupying the highest posts in the vessel. Many persons of good taste or feeling crowded into a corner of the ship and trampled upon by those really inferior to themselves. Consider, in fact, in what manner Socrates and Aristides made their voyage and Phocion, who had not even sufficient bread to eat nor even were able to stretch their legs upon the bare planks along the hold, while in the midst of how many good things lived a callous, a medius, and a sardana palace rioting and insulting those under them. Such is the state of matters on board your ship. Most sapient, Timocles, quenched those innumerable shipwrecks. Now, if any captain were in command and observed and ordered each particular thing, in the first place he would not be ignorant who are the good and who are the bad among the ship's company. In the next place he would suitably distribute to each his proper post the better place up above by his side to the better men and the lower place to the inferior and some of the superior men he would admit to his own table and appoint them to be of his council. And of the sailors the most zealous would have been appointed to the care of the forepart of the vessel or to the captaincy of the forecastle or certainly in a place above the rest, while the sluggish and negligent would be corrected a dozen times in the day with the ropes end about his shoulders. So, admirable sir, the simile of yours of the ship is in some danger of being completely wrecked from having chanced upon this incompetent captain. This contest proceeds swimmingly for Damus now and he is being born onwards full sail to victory. Rightly do you conduct your moments and as for Timocles he devises no firm and consistent method of argument but these commonplace and vulgar proofs he pumps out one after the other all only to be easily overturned. Then since my comparison of the ship appears to you to be of no such great weight listen now to the sacred anchor as the proverb has it which you will not shatter by any possible means. Zeus, all attention. Whatever in the world is he going to say then? Well, you shall see if I put these arguments into syllogistic sequence and if you can overturn them anyhow. If there are altars there are also gods but there are certainly altars. There are, therefore, gods. What do you say to that? Damus, choking with laughter. As soon as ever I have laughed my fill I will reply to you. But you don't seem at all likely to stop grinning. Tell me however whereabouts my allegation appears to you ridiculous. It's because you don't perceive you suspended your anchor and that too the sacred one upon a fine thread for in connecting the existence of the gods with the existence of altars you imagine you have made your anchorage secure thereupon. So since you say you have nothing else more sacred than this to say let us at once depart. Do you confess then you are worsted as you leave first? Damus, calmly. Yes, Timocles. For you like those who are getting the worst of it you have sought refuge at the altars. So by the holy anchor I am ready to make a treaty of peace with you at this moment with a libation upon the altars themselves so that we may no longer wrangle on these matters. Timocles, in a violent rage. You say this to me ironically you plunderer of tombs you abominable villain you utterly contemptible wretch you good for nothing slave you infamous hang dog Why don't we know who your father was and how your mother got her living and how you throttled your brother and what a debauched fellow and corruptor of youth you are you chief of gluttons and of shameless rascals As Damus is retiring Don't run off pray before you have got some reminders for me to take away with you indeed I am ready to slay you this very moment with this potchard superlative villain that you are Throwing the missile at him One of them oh gods is running away in fits of laughter and the other pursues him with the tuperation as he cannot endure Damus's making merry over him indeed he seems actually about to strike him over the head with his potchard and we What are we going to do hereupon The comic poet appears to me to have rightly said Don't own defeat you've suffered then no harm for indeed what mighty evil is it if a few men go away convinced of these things for those who holds the contrary opinion are sufficiently numerous the greater part of the Greeks the mass of the people and the rabble and all the non-greek peoples However Hermes that saying of Darius which he uttered in the case of Zopyrus is exceedingly good so too I myself would have wished to have one such as Damis as an ally rather than the possession of ten thousand Babylonians End of Zeus the Tragedian part two End of Zeus the Tragedian by Lucian Translated by Howard Williams