not a magnificent spirit, not a musical and graceful speech, nothing else of the sort that knows how to beautify the soul and the nature of the body. O new Rome, and magnificent and free race, O emperors from of old, and royal tribunal and palaces, what shame you then put upon yourselves, what an envious demon begrudged you. But yet this, if one should not lay blame, must be given over to chance, but if one should be pious, to the ineffable judgments of God. But he, seeing his rule still wavering for him and not having a firm foundation, hides his malevolence in the depth of his soul, but feigns attentiveness toward his kinsman, and makes him brilliant with the greatest honors. Then he tears the veil, he throws open the gates of his heart, and reveals the dragon lurking there, and before all others he pours out the venom of his malice upon his own family and kinsmen. And some he condemned to exile, and others he deprived of their generative parts, men who were already bearded and were fathers of sons, he wears a crown and is resplendent, not for having overthrown Perseus or Antigonus, nor for having driven away some barbarian tribe, but the enemy for having vanquished those of his own blood. You indeed, O best of men, for rule in my speech, you would scarcely cut off my head even if I should appear a plotter against you, but you would not even cut my hair if I should appear to have committed sacrilege, or I fear lest you might even cut out my breasts, or dig out my heart along with my liver, which they say the Persians do to the dead for the sake of embalming. Tyrant and misanthrope, the affairs of the Sicilians are in turmoil, all of Italy has been moved to revolt, and you trample on your countrymen, and you are jealous of your offspring and campaign against your own. But you do well, and strike thus, that the impious one may be smitten through you, the sinner, and then may his blood be required of you. For I know that as you proceed on your way, you will touch even the untouchable things. And how should I say this? you, a son, have risen up against your mother, revering neither sacred laws nor respecting oaths? But you make me a prophet, for you do what I foretold, and you, the interloper, drive the noble lady from the palace, you, the ungrateful one, her who was your benefactress, how fine indeed for you is your reward for your upbringing, and greater than the benefactions are the thanks. But do not fear. For the people of the city have been kindled against you, and every age, bearing swords, marches against you, and seeks to taste your raw liver. But now you are flowing mightily against them in your wrath; but then you shrink back and are afraid, and you wander here and there, with a soul at a loss, and you devise many things and become many-faced in your pretenses, and you promise rewards to those who would help, but you have been found out as black-hearted and are despised. But where are you fleeing, having turned your back? To where do you flee, to him whom you betrayed? He does not know how to be philanthropic as always, often the philanthropist becomes abrupt. And you bow your head to the priest for me, and you cut your hair and receive a second regeneration, and become an ambitious athlete proceeding to the final contests, and you taste the mysteries and confess your transgression, and you shed tears and become a second Manasseh. But your gifts are not acceptable to God, but the incense is an abomination, and your whole burnt offering is as a menstruous rag. And you seem to have been set free, but the people shout, and drive you, the swine, from the divine altar, and sharpen the executioner, and he strikes improvising with the iron, and you are thrown to the ground, and with your eyes gouged out you are paraded on a mule, just as you deserve. But the empress blossoms again, and does not become jealous like you, but shares the scepters with her sister, and like a moon she illumines the palace. But she needs a sun so that having partaken of its light she may appear more brilliant, and according to the wise, she sees this one coming from the west, not in an oblique manner of travel as natural philosophers might say, but unswerving and straight. whence she comes into conjunction with him and becomes all-radiant, and again does not lose her own light; for neither does the one earthly
οὐ φρόνημα μεγαλοπρεπές, οὐ λόγον ἔμμουσον καὶ χαρίεντα, οὐκ ἄλλο οὐδὲν τῶν οἷα ψυχὴν οἶδε καλλύνειν καὶ φύσιν σώματος. ὦ νέα Ῥώμη, καὶ γένος μεγαλοπρεπὲς καὶ ἐλεύθερον, ὦ οἱ ἀνέκαθεν βασιλεῖς, καὶ βῆμα βασιλικὸν καὶ βασίλεια, οἵαν αἰσχύνην τότε περιεβάλεσθε, οἷος ὑμῖν δαίμων ἐφθόνησε βάσκανος. πλὴν ἀλλὰ τοῦτο, εἰ μέν τις μὴ αἰτιῷτο τῷ αὐτομάτῳ δοτέον, εἰ δὲ φιλευσεβοίη τοῖς ἀρρήτοις τοῦ θεοῦ κρίμασιν. Ὁ δέ, σαλευομένην ὁρῶν ἀκμὴν ἑαυτῷ τὴν ἀρχὴν καὶ πῆξιν βεβαίαν οὐκ ἔχουσαν, κρύπτει μὲν ἐν βάθει τῆς ψυχῆς τὸ κακόηθες, θεραπείαν δὲ πρὸς τὸ συγγενὲς ὑποκρίνεται, καὶ ταῖς μεγίσταις λαμπρύνει τιμαῖς. ἔπειτα ῥηγνύει τὸ καταπέτασμα, τὰς πύλας τῆς καρδίας ἀναπετάννυσι, καὶ τὸν ἐκεῖσε δείκνυσιν ἐμφωλεύοντα δράκοντα, καὶ πρὸ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπὶ τοὺς οἰκείους καὶ συγγενεῖς τὸν κακίας ἰὸν ἐκκενοῖ. καὶ οὓς μὲν ὑπερορίᾳ καταδικάσας, οὓς δὲ τῶν παιδογόνων μορίων ἀποτεμόμενος ἤδη που γενειάσαντας καὶ υἱέων ὄντας τοκεῖς, στεφανηφορεῖ καὶ λαμπρύνεται, οὐ Περσέα καθελὼν οὐδ' Ἀντίγονον, οὐδέ τι βάρβαρον ἀπελάσας φῦλον, ἀλλὰ τοὺς ἀφ' αἵματος ὁ δυσμενὴς καταγωνισάμενος. Σύ γε, ὦ βέλτιστε, ἄνασσε γὰρ τῷ λόγῳ, σχολῇ γε τὴν ἐμὴν ἀποτέμοις κεφαλὴν κἂν ἐπίβουλός σοι φανήσομαι, ἀλλ' οὐδ' ἀποτέμοις τὰς τρίχας κἂν ἱεροσυλήσας φανῶ, ἢ δέδοικα μὴ καὶ τοὺς μαστοὺς ἐκκόψῃς, ἢ τὴν καρδίαν ἐξορύξῃς μετὰ τοῦ ἥπατος, ὅ φασι τοὺς Πέρσας διὰ ταριχείαν ἐπὶ τοὺς κατοιχομένους ποιεῖν. Τύραννε καὶ μισάνθρωπε, τὰ Σικελῶν ὠδίνει, Ἰταλία πᾶσα πρὸς ἀπόστασιν κεκίνηται, καὶ σὺ τοῖς πατριώταις ἐπεμβαίνεις, καὶ ζηλοτυπεῖς τὴν γονὴν καὶ στρατεύεις κατὰ τῶν σῶν. ἀλλ' εὖ γε ποιεῖς, καὶ βάλλ' οὕτως ἵνα παταχθῇ ὁ ἀσεβὴς διὰ σοῦ τοῦ ἁμαρτωλοῦ, εἴθ' ὕστερον ἐκζητηθῇ τὸ αἷμα αὐτοῦ ἀπὸ σοῦ. οἶδα γὰρ ὡς ὁδῷ προβαίνων ψαύσῃ καὶ τῶν ἀψαύστων. καὶ πῶς εἴποιμι τοῦτο; τῆς μητρὸς ὁ παῖς κατεξανέστης, μήτε νόμους ἱεροὺς αἰδεσθεὶς μήθ' ὅρκους εὐλαβηθείς; ἀλλά με προφήτην ποιεῖς, πράττεις γὰρ ἃ προηγόρευσα, καὶ τῶν βασιλείων ἐξάγεις τὴν εὐγενῆ ὁ ἐπείσακτος, τὴν εὐεργετήσασαν ὁ ἀχάριστος, ὡς καλά γέ σοι τὰ τροφεῖα, καὶ μείζω τῶν εὐεργεσιῶν τὰ εὐχαριστήρια. ἀλλὰ μὴ δέδιθι· ἀνήφθη γάρ σοι ὁ τῆς πόλεως δῆμος, καὶ πᾶσα ἡλικία ξιφήρης χωρεῖ κατὰ σοῦ, καὶ ὠμῶν σοῦ τῶν ἡπάτων ζητεῖ ἀπογεύσασθαι. σὺ δὲ νῦν πολὺς εἶ ῥέων κατ' αὐτῶν τῷ θυμῷ· αὖθις δὲ ὑποστέλλῃ καὶ δειλιᾷς, καὶ τῇδε κἀκεῖσε φοιτᾷς, ἀπορούσῃ ψυχῇ, μηχανᾷ δὲ πολλὰ καὶ πολυπρόσωπος γίνῃ ταῖς ὑποκρίσεσι, καὶ ἀμοιβὰς ἐπαγγέλλῃ τοῖς βοηθήσουσιν, ἀλλ' ὡς μελάμπους πεφώρασαι καὶ καταπεφρόνησαι. ἀλλὰ πῇ φεύγεις μετὰ νῶτα βαλών; ποῖ δὲ καταφεύγεις πρὸς ὃν ἠθέτησας; οὐκ οἶδε φιλανθρωπεύεσθαι ὡς ἀεί, γίνεται πολλάκις ἀπότομος ὁ φιλάνθρωπος. σὺ δέ μοι καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν ὑποκλίνεις τῷ ἱερεῖ, καὶ κείρῃ τὰς τρίχας καὶ δέχῃ δευτέραν παλινζωΐαν, καὶ γίνῃ φιλότιμος ἀθλητὴς ἐπὶ τοὺς τελευταίους ἀγῶνας χωρῶν, καὶ ἀπογεύῃ τῶν μυστηρίων καὶ ἐξαγορεύεις τὸ παρανόμημα, καὶ δακρυρροεῖς καὶ γίνῃ Μανασσῆς δεύτερος. ἀλλ' οὐ δεκτά σοι τὰ δῶρα θεῷ, ἀλλὰ βδέλυγμα μὲν τὸ θυμίαμα, καὶ τὸ ὁλοκάρπωμά σου ὡς ῥάκος ἀποκαθημένης. καὶ σὺ μὲν δοκεῖς ἀπηλλάχθαι, ὁ δὲ δῆμος βοᾷ, καὶ τοῦ θείου σε βήματος τὸν σῦν ἀπελαύνει, καὶ θήγει τὸν δήμιον, κἀκεῖνος σχεδιάζει ἐλαύνων τὸν σίδηρον, καὶ σὺ κατὰ γῆς ἔρριψαι, καὶ τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς ἐκκοπεὶς ἐφ' ἡμιόνῳ πομπεύεις, ὥσπερ ᾖς ἄξιος. Ἡ δὲ βασιλὶς αὖθις ἀνθεῖ, καὶ οὐ ζηλότυπος γίνεται κατά σε, ἀλλὰ κοινωνεῖ τῶν σκήπτρων τῇ ἀδελφῇ, καὶ οἷά τις σελήνη δᾳδουχεῖ τὰ ἀνάκτορα. δεῖται δὲ ἡλίου ἵνα λαμπροτέρου φανῇ μεταλαβοῦσα φωτός, καὶ κατὰ τοὺς ἐπιστήμονας ἀπὸ δύσεως τοῦτον ὁρᾷ προερχόμενον, οὐ λοξῷ πορείας σχήματι ὡς ἂν φυσικοὶ φήσαιεν, ἀλλ' ἀκλινεῖ καὶ ὀρθῷ. ὅθεν εἰς σύνοδόν τε ἐκείνῳ ἔρχεται καὶ παμφαὴς γίνεται, καὶ τὸ οἰκεῖον αὖθις οὐκ ἀπόλλυσι φῶς· οὐδὲ γὰρ ἡ μὲν πρόσγειον