Greek Texts & Translations

PRAXINOA
15.80 Huswife Athena! the weavers that made that material and the embroiderers who did that close detailed work are simply marvels. How realistically the things all stand and move about in it! they’re living! It is wonderful what people can do. And then the Holy Boy; how perfectly beautiful he looks lying on his silver couch, with the down of manhood just showing on his cheeks, – (religioso) the thrice-beloved Adonis, beloved even down below!

SECOND STRANGER
15.87 Oh dear, oh dear, ladies! do stop that eternal cooing. (to the bystanders) They’ll weary me to death with their ah-ah-ah-ing.

PRAXINOA
15.89 My word! where does that person come from? What business is it of yours if we do coo? Buy your slaves before you order them about, pray. You’re giving your orders to Syracusans. If you must know, we’re Corinthians by extraction, like Bellerophon himself. What we talk’s Peloponnesian. I suppose Dorians may speak Doric, mayn’t they? Persephone! let's have no more masters than the one we’ve got. I shall do just as I like. Pray don’t waste your breath. ^note

GORGO
15.96 Be quiet, Praxinoa. She’s just going to being the song, that Argive person’s daughter, you know, the “accomplished vocalist” ^note that was chosen to sing the dirge last year. ^note You may be sure she’ll give us something good. Look, she’s making her bow.

THE DIRGE
15.100 Lover of Golgi and Idaly and Eryx’ steepy hold,
O Lady Aphrodite with the face that beams like gold,
Twelve months are sped and soft-footéd Heav’n’s pretty laggards, see,
Bring o’er the never-tarrying stream Adonis back to thee.
The Seasons, the Seasons, full slow they go and come,
But some sweet thing for all they bring, and so they are welcome home.
O Cypris, Dion’s daughter, of thee annealed, ^note ‘tis said,
Our Queen that was born of woman is e’en immortal made;
And now, sweet Lady of many names, of many shrines Ladye,
They guerdon’s giv’n; for the Queen’s daughtér, as Helen fair to see,
Thy lad doth dight with all delight upon this holyday;
For there’s not a fruit the orchard bears but is here for his hand to take,
And cresses trim all kept for him in many a silver tray,
And Syrian balm in vials of gold; and O, there’s every cake
That ever woman kneaded of bolted meal so fair
With blossoms blent of every scent or oil or honey rare –
Here’s all outlaid in semblance made of every bird and beast.

15.119 Two testers green they have plight ye, with dainty dill well dressed,
Whereon, like puny nightingales that flit from bough to bough
Trying their waxing wings to spread, the Love-babes hovering go.
How fair the ebony and the gold, the ivory white how fair,
And eagles twain to Zeus on high bringing his cup-bearer!
Aye, and he coverlets spread for ye are softer spread than sleep –
Forsooth Miletus ^note town may say, or the master of Samian sheep, ^note
“The bridal bed of Adonis spread of my own making is;
Cypris hath this for her wrapping, Adonis that for his.”

15.129 Of eighteen years or nineteen is turned the rose-limbed groom;
His pretty lip is smooth to sip, for it bears but flaxen bloom.
And now she’s in her husband’s arms, and so we’ll say good-night;
But to-morrow we’ll come wi’ the dew, the dew, and take hands and bear him away
Where plashing wave the shore doth lave, and there with locks undight
And blosoms bare all shining fair will raise this shrilling lay; –
“O sweet Adonis, none but thee of the children of Gods and men
‘Twixt overworld and underworld doth pass and pass agen;
That cannot Agamemnon, nor the Lord o’ the Woeful Spleen, ^note
Nor the first of the twice-ten children ^note that came of the Trojan queen,
Nor Patroclus brave, nor Pyrrhus bold that home from the war did win,
Nor none o’ the kith o’ the old Lapith nor of them of Deucalion’s kin –
E’en Pelops line lacks fate so fine, and Pelasgian Argos’ pride.

15.143 Adonis sweet, Adonis dear, be gracious for another year;
Thou’rt welcome to thine own alwáy, and welcome we’ll both cry to-day and next Adonis-tide.”

GORGO
O Praxinoa! what clever things we women are! I do envy her knowing all that, and still more having such a lovely voice. But I must be getting back. It’s Diocleidas’ dinner-time, ^note and that man’s all pepper ^note; I wouldn’t advise anyone to come near him even, when he’s kept waiting for his food. Goodbye, Adonis darling; and I only trust you may find us all thriving when you come next year.