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fleeing from the battle, not even if the barbarian had a winged nature. Xerxes, who once wanted to turn land into sea, has honor by not having attacked your power; he did not see the bare swords of the Romans, he did not see your, Romanos, scepter-bearing might; for he would have passed by your army in awe, receiving his defeat from you, scepter-wielder.

3 He who the many-mouthed outpourings of the abyss closing, restraining, opening,

leading forth, this one broadens the borders of your dominion, son of a king, and strengthens the fleet and does all things and overthrows cities. And which of the chroniclers, O king, will be able to praise you worthily to such an extent, even if he is another from Stagira, a Plato or the ruler of Athens, Demosthenes, or the one who strikes the much-sung lyre? I for my part, the chronicler of the present day, do begin your praises slavishly, but the goads of timidity prick and constrain my speech. You grant boldness, open the mouth, teach us not to be easily silent, when such disaster befalls the barbarians; widen the throat with freedom of speech; for it is constricted when encountering your labors. The hand struggles, the mind is often restrained, and it shrinks back and is frightened, and though wanting to walk in your Christ-imitating ways, like a cowering bird in fear, it runs past the paths. For you, possessing victory everywhere, have benefited the commonwealth, you alone have increased it; you with labors have pushed the phalanx of the enemy into a ravine of impassable places; you have filled the cities not with spoils alone, but you have filled them with peace and much glory. Let the order of angels above rejoice, let the assembly of mortals below dance; not Heracles saved the Phrygians from the sea-monster, but the master the world from slaughter, not Meleager his fatherland from the fire, but Romanos has now saved all of creation. What thanks of old is there for your sons, Aloeus, for crafting the great brazen jar of Ares? For no stepmother this, but the master moves it against the Cretan enemies, having unleashed the jar; for it was not fitting, O star, sun of the crown, when you had made the scepters of the monarchy illustrious, that he should be confined and remain in prison, but rather that you with him should hold the shield and stain the earth with the blood of barbarians. And when the phalanx of the Cretans was slaughtered, as a cowering bird, having fallen among hunters, was destroyed, the land was delivered from many disasters, and was washed clean of countless defilements, and every Scythian lay dead upon the earth, longed for by dogs rather than by wives and children. You yourself, general, being ignorant of the outcomes of all these things, yet again gathered your cares within like an army of the heart, until the letter swiftly arrived from your subjects, filled with great joy. And having learned everything and clapped your hands, what a prayer, which nature cannot speak, you gave to God, but perhaps, O king, that of the prophet: crying out loudly, "O Lord, my Lord, be not silent at all; for if you should be silent, I am one of those who go down into the pit, gloomy, full of toils." "Hear our humble lamentations, and keeping your flock safe, rout the enemies and make the labors cease, which your army, persevering, embraces." Such things indeed you did, commanding your servants along with them, and though not present you acted, as Moses of old routed Amalek by the extension of his hands; and your army, winning in successive battles, was puffed up with pride. It needed, then, a well-mixed medicine for the sobering of the present disease. And just as the grim night was spreading and the army was rejoicing or boasting and hastening or being called to its quarters, as if on a razor's edge, every place was sword-bearing, hills, glens, ravines, straight valleys; for having poured out from the Cretan lairs a seven-bannered, previously prepared fleet, caused much cowardice in the army, having suddenly emerged and appeared contrary to expectation. And night on the one hand was adorning darkness with light, for breastplate like light and sword and helmet were changing the color of the evening, but the generals, inclined to flight, protecting their necks with their shields, rushed, and every fugitive had as

7

φυγὼν ἐκ τῆς μάχης, οὐδ' εἰ πτερωτὴν εἶχε βάρβαρος φύσιν. Ξέρξης, ὁ τὸ πρὶν γῆν θαλασσῶσαι θέλων, μὴ προσβαλών σου τῷ κράτει τιμὴν ἔχει· οὐκ εἶδεν οὗτος γυμνὰ Ῥωμαίων ξίφη, οὐκ εἶδε τὴν σήν, Ῥωμανέ, σκηπτουχίαν· ἦ γὰρ παρῆλθε τὸν στρατόν σου θαυμάσας, τὴν ἧτταν ἐν σοὶ προσλαβών, σκηπτοκράτορ.

Γʹ Ὁ τῆς ἀβύσσου τὰς πολυστόμους χύσεις κλείων, χαλινῶν, ἐξανοίγων,

ἐξάγων, οὗτος πλατύνει τοὺς ὅρους τοῦ σοῦ κράτους, ἄνακτος υἱέ, καὶ κρατύνει τὸν στόλον καὶ πάντα ποιεῖ καὶ καταστρέφει πόλεις. καὶ τίς καταξίαν σε τῶν λογογράφων, ἄναξ, ἐπαινεῖν εἰς τοσοῦτον ἰσχύσει, κἂν ἔστιν ἄλλος ἐν Σταγειρίταις, Πλάτων ἢ τῶν Ἀθηνῶν ὁ κρατῶν ∆ημοσθένης ἢ τὴν πολυθρύλλητον ὁ κρούων λύραν; ἔγωγε τῶν σῶν δουλικῶς ἐγκωμίων, ὁ τῆς παρούσης ἡμέρας λογογράφος, ἀπάρχομαι μέν, ἀλλὰ τῆς ἀτολμίας τὰ κέντρα κεντεῖ καὶ βιάζει τὸν λόγον. σὺ δὸς τὸ τολμᾶν, ἐξάνοιγε τὸ στόμα, δίδαξον ἡμᾶς μὴ σιωπᾶν εὐκόλως, ὅταν τοσαύτη συμφορὰ τοῖς βαρβάροις· πλάτυνε τὸν φάρυγγα τῇ παρρησίᾳ· καὶ γὰρ στενοῦται προσβαλών σου τοῖς πόνοις. ἀγωνιᾷ χείρ, εἴργεται νοῦς πολλάκις, συστέλλεται δὲ καὶ πτοεῖται καὶ θέλων τοῖς σοῖς βαδίζειν χριστομιμήτοις τρόποις, ὡς πτὼξ δεδοικώς, τὰς ὁδοὺς παρατρέχει. σὺ γὰρ τὸ νικᾶν πανταχοῦ κεκτημένος, τὸ κοινὸν ὠφέλησας, ηὔξησας μόνος· σὺ τὴν φάλαγγα τῶν ἐναντίων πόνοις ὤθησας εἰς φάραγγα δυσβάτων τόπων· σὺ τὰς πόλεις ἔπλησας οὐ σκύλων μόνων, ἀλλ' εἰρήνης ἔπλησας καὶ πολλῆς δόξης. Ἀγαλλιάσθω τάξις ἀγγέλων ἄνω, χορευέτω σύστημα τῶν βροτῶν κάτω· οὐχ Ἡρακλῆς ἔσωσε τοῦ κήτους Φρύγας, ὁ δεσπότης δὲ κόσμον ἐκ φονουργίας, οὐ Μελέαγρος τοῦ πυρὸς τὴν πατρίδα, ὁ Ῥωμανὸς δὲ πᾶσαν ἄρτι τὴν κτίσιν. τοῖς σοῖς, Ἀλωεῦ, τίς χάρις παισὶν πάλαι χαλκοῦν τεχνουργεῖν Ἄρεος πίθον μέγαν; οὐ μητρυὰ γὰρ τοῦτον, ἀλλ' ὁ δεσπότης κινεῖ κατ' ἐχθρῶν Κρητικῶν λύσας πίθον· οὐκ ἦν γὰρ εἰκός, ἄστρον ἥλιε, στέφους σοῦ σκῆπτρα λαμπρύναντος ἐν μοναρχίᾳ, ἐκεῖνον εἱρκτῇ καὶ στενοῦσθαι καὶ μένειν, ἀλλ' ἢ σὺν αὐτῷ σὲ κρατεῖν τὴν ἀσπίδα καὶ γῆν μολύνειν αἵμασιν τῶν βαρβάρων. Ἐπεὶ δὲ Κρητῶν ἡ φάλαγξ κατεσφάγη, ὡς ἐν κυνηγοῖς πτὼξ πεσὼν ἀνῃρέθη, πολλῶν μὲν ἡ γῆ συμφορῶν ἀπηλλάγη, ἀπεπλύθη δὲ μυρίων μιασμάτων, καὶ πᾶς Σκύθης ἔκειτο νεκρὸς εἰς χθόνα, κυσὶν ποθητὸς ἢ γυναιξὶ καὶ τέκνοις. τούτων ἁπάντων ἀγνοῶν τὰς ἐκβάσεις αὐτός, στρατηγέ, καὶ πάλιν τὰς φροντίδας ἔνδον συνῆγες ὡς στρατὸν τῆς καρδίας, ἕως τὸ γράμμα θᾶττον ἐξ ὑπηκόων πολλῆς ἐπῆλθε χαρμονῆς πεπλησμένον. μαθὼν δὲ πάντα καὶ κροτήσας τὰς χέρας, οἵαν προσευχὴν οὐκ ἔχει λέγειν φύσις, πρὸς τὸν θεὸν δέδωκας, ἀλλ' ἴσως, ἄναξ, τὴν τοῦ προφήτου· Κύριε κράζων μέγα, ὁ κύριός μου, μὴ σιωπήσῃς ὅλως· εἰ γὰρ σιωπήσειας, εἷς τῶν ἐν βόθρῳ βαινόντων εἰμί, σκυθρωπός, πλήρης μόχθων. ἄκουσον ἡμῶν εὐτελῶν ὀδυρμάτων, καὶ σὸν φυλάττων ποίμνιον σεσωσμένον τρόπωσον ἐχθροὺς καὶ κόπασον τοὺς πόνους, οὓς ὁ στρατός σου καρτερῶν ἀσπάζεται. Τοιαῦτα μὲν σὺ συστρατηγῶν οἰκέταις καὶ μὴ παρὼν ἔπραττες, ὡς Μωσῆς πάλαι τροπῶν Ἀμαλὴκ τῇ χερῶν ἐπεκτάσει· ὁ δὲ στρατός σου ταῖς ἐπαλλήλοις μάχαις νικῶν ὑπῆρχεν εἰς ὀφρῦν ἐπηρμένος. ἐδεῖτο λοιπὸν εὐκεράστου φαρμάκου εἰς σωφρονισμὸν τῆς ἐπιστάσης νόσου. καὶ νυκτὸς ἄρτι τῆς στυγνῆς ἁπλουμένης καὶ τοῦ στρατοῦ χαίροντος ἢ καυχωμένου καὶ πρὸς μονὴν σπεύδοντος ἢ καλουμένου, ὡς ἐν ξυρῷ πᾶς ἦν τόπος ξιφηφόρος, βουνοί, νάπαι, φάραγγες, εὐθεῖς κοιλάδες· τῶν Κρητικῶν γὰρ ἐκχυθεὶς φωλευμάτων προευτρεπισθεὶς ἑπτασήμαντος στόλος, πολλὴν παρεῖχε τῷ στρατῷ δειλανδρίαν, ἄφνω προκύψας καὶ φανεὶς παρ' ἐλπίδα. καὶ νὺξ μὲν ἐστόλιζεν ἐν φωτὶ σκότος θώραξ γὰρ ὡς φῶς καὶ μάχαιρα καὶ κράνος μετημφίαζον τὴν βαφὴν τῆς ἑσπέρας, οἱ δὲ στρατηγοί, πρὸς φυγὴν κεκλιμένοι, ταῖς ἀσπίσι σκέποντες ὥρμων αὐχένας, καὶ πᾶς ὁ φεύγων εἶχεν ὡς