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I reproach what cannot be shared; participation is beyond our nature; but if you have inclined even a little toward the visible, do not begrudge us our share in you; having received it, hold it and share your lot with me. And if even in this I shall be seen as immoderate, yet at least the tomb will not divide me from your body, but when the dust of us both is dissolved, I will share with you in that co-dissolution, even if in the worse part.” 16. These things, then, and others more pathetic than these I lamented at my sister's tomb; and my parents wailed, almost letting drops of blood stream down from their eyes. And the whole crowd that had run together also lamented, and so great was the excess of grief that nearly all were overcome by the suffering and the harmony of their wailing turned to speechlessness. My parents, then, having dragged me away from the tomb with difficulty, said: “But pity us, sweetest child, preserve for us what is left of your spirit, destroy yourself no longer completely, nor let anyone blame you for our destruction. Yes, by these “gray hairs which have nourished you,” by our souls, which are held in these bodies by the spirit that is in you.” And so they spoke, but for me my lamentation ended again in lamentation. For when I saw and recognized my mother, clad in a black coarse cloak and having dishonored herself on all sides with “worn-out rags,” I did not know what was to become of me, but was nearly destroyed. For matters concerning her had happened in this way. My sister “was being released” and “was breathing her last,” having placed her head on her mother's breast, and with neither “her soul fainting,” nor her tongue being agitated, nor indeed her breath failing, she naturally and without violence “paid” the “debt” of nature to those who collect it. And my mother, somehow strengthening herself at that moment, closed her eyelids and, suddenly “being filled with tears,” or rather “being utterly consumed by” an unspeakable “fire,” and having groaned and wept the funeral dirges, when she also saw her husband moved by the force of the calamity—for he was in other respects prone to such sufferings and I recognize his character in the aspects of my own soul—; when, therefore, she saw him in this state, having commanded her soul a little not to be confounded by the suffering—O noble and unsubmerged spirit, and in such great seas unstorm-tossed!—she philosophizes on something loftier than most and stronger than the occasion, and having unfolded many arguments to her husband concerning the better change, taking her suffering at the same time as an advocate for her persuasion, she wins him over against all expectation. And she does not postpone the occasion, but immediately offers the first-fruits of her change to the Better One, and changes her clothing and cuts her hair and wears a coarse cloak, still having her youthful prime, not yet having cast off her bloom, still “abounding in leaves,” not yet having a wrinkled petal, still growing “the tender branch,” still “budding with summer fruits.” And my father also consented to what was said, and so they carry out my sister for burial, still shining with beauty, still showing forth the bright grace of her face. They said, therefore, that when those who adorned the dead body had combed out the locks of her hair and let them hang down from the edge of the bier—for her hair was otherwise golden and abundant—and the funeral procession “was raised up high” and visible to those on the third story, there was no one who, having turned his eye towards her, did not dismount from his horse or did not come down from the third story; at any rate, all men and all women followed along and shared together in the lamentation. Such for my mother was the change to the better life; this was for her the occasion “of the solitary life;” this suffering transferred her to the passionless life; this death becomes for her the “author of immortality.” And what sort of things came after this? For not once

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ὀνειδίζω τὸ ἀμετάδοτον, ὑπὲρ τὴν ἡμετέραν φύσιν ἡ μετοχή· εἰ δὲ βραχύ τι καὶ πρὸς τὸ ὁρατὸν νένευκας, μὴ φθονήσῃς ἡμῖν τῆς ἐπὶ σοὶ μετουσίας, ἔχε λαβοῦσα καὶ κοινώνησόν μοι τῆς λήξεως. εἰ δὲ κἀνταῦθα ὀφθήσομαι ἄμετρος, ἀλλ' ὅ γε τάφος οὐ διαιρήσει με τοῦ σοῦ σώματος, ἀλλὰ τῆς ἀμφοῖν ἀναλυθείσης κόνεως μεθέξω σοι τῆς συναναλύσεως κἂν ἐν τῷ χείρονι». 16. Ταῦτα μὲν οὖν καὶ ἕτερα τούτων περιπαθέστερα ἐπωλοφυράμην τῷ τάφῳ τῆς ἀδελφῆς· ἀνῴμωζον δὲ οἱ γεννήτορες μονονοὺ ῥανίδας αἱμάτων ἐκ τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν καταρρέοντες. συνεθρήνει δὲ καὶ πᾶν τὸ συνδεδραμηκὸς πλῆθος καὶ τοσαύτη τις ἦν ἡ τοῦ πένθους ὑπερβολὴ ὡς μικροῦ δεῖν ἅπαντας τῷ πάθει κατενεχθῆναι καὶ εἰς ἀφωνίαν περιστῆναι τὴν συμφωνίαν τῶν ὀδυρμῶν. μόλις γοῦν με τοῦ τάφου ἀποσπάσαντες οἱ γεννήτορες· «ἀλλ' οἴκτειρον ἡμᾶς -ἔφασαν-, σπλάγχνον γλυκύτατον, τήρησον ἡμῖν τὸ ἐλλελειμμένον τοῦ πνεύματος, μηκέτι διαφθείρῃς εἰς τέλος, μηδὲ σέ τις αἰτιάσαιτο τῆς ἡμετέρας φθορᾶς. ναί, πρὸς τῶνδε τῶν «πολιῶν αἵ σε ἀνέθρεψαν», πρὸς τῶν ἡμετέρων ψυχῶν, αἱ δὴ τῷ ἐπὶ σοὶ πνεύματι τοῖς σώμασι τοῖσδε κεκράτηνται». κἀκεῖνοι μὲν οὕτως, ἐμοὶ δὲ καὶ αὖθις εἰς θρῆνον ὁ θρῆνος ἀπετελεύτησεν. ὡς γὰρ ἰδὼν ἐπεγνώκειν τὴν μητέρα, μέλαν ἀμφιασαμένην τριβώνιον καὶ πανταχόθεν ἑαυτὴν «τρυχίνοις ῥάκεσιν» ἀτιμάσασαν, οὐκ εἶχον καὶ ὅ τι γενοίμην, ἀλλὰ μικροῦ δεῖν καὶ ἀπολώλειν. Ἐγεγόνει γὰρ τὰ κατ' αὐτὴν τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον. «ἐλύετο μὲν» ἡ ἀδελφὴ καὶ «ἀνέπνει τὰ τελευταῖα» τῷ κόλπῳ τῆς μητρὸς ὑποθεῖσα τὴν κεφαλήν, μήτε δὲ «τῆς ψυχῆς παραθείσης» μήτε παρακινηθείσης τῆς γλώττης μήτε μὴν ἐπιλελοιπότος τοῦ πνεύματος, φυσικῶς τε καὶ ἀβιάστως τὸ τῆς φύσεως «χρέος» τοῖς εἰσπραττομένοις «ἀπέδοτο», ῥώσασα δέ πως τηνικαῦτα ἑαυτὴν ἡ μήτηρ συνῆψε τὰς βλεφαρίδας καὶ «δακρύων» ἀθρόον «ὑποπλησθεῖσα», μᾶλλον δὲ «πυρὶ» ἀφάτῳ ὅλη «καταφλεχθεῖσα» καὶ τὰ ἐπιτάφια στενάξασα καὶ δακρύσασα, ἐπεὶ καὶ τὸν ἄνδρα εἶδεν ὑποκινηθέντα τῇ ῥύμῃ τῆς συμφορᾶς-ἦν γὰρ καὶ ἄλλως ἐκεῖνος εὐκατάφορος πρὸς τὰ τοιαῦτα παθήματα καὶ γινώσκω τὸν χαρακτῆρα ἐν τοῖς ἐμοῖς εἴδεσι τῆς ψυχῆς-· ὡς οὖν οὕτως ἔχοντα ἐθεάσατο, βραχύ τι ἐπιτάξασα τῇ ψυχῇ μὴ συγχεῖσθαι τῷ πάθει-ὢ γενναίου καὶ ἀνεπικλύστου φρονήματος καὶ ἐν τοσούτοις ἀχειμάστου πελάγεσι-φιλοσοφεῖ τι τῶν πολλῶν ὑψηλότερον καὶ τοῦ καιροῦ δυνατώτερον, καὶ λόγους πολλοὺς τῷ ἀνδρὶ περὶ τῆς κρείττονος μεταβολῆς ἀνελίξασα, συνήγορον ἅμα καὶ τὸ πάθος λαβοῦσα πρὸς τὴν πειθώ, θηρᾷ παρ' ἐλπίδας. καὶ οὐκ ἀναβάλλεται τὸν καιρόν, ἀλλ' εὐθὺς τὰ πρωτόλεια τῆς μεταθέσεως θύει τῷ Κρείττονι καὶ μεταμφιέννυται τὴν στολὴν καὶ κείρει τὰς τρίχας καὶ τριβωνοφορεῖ ἔτι ἀκμαίαν τὴν ὥραν ἔχουσα, οὔπω ἀποβεβληκυῖα τὸ ἄνθος, ἔτι «φύλλοις κομῶσα», οὔπω ῥυσοῦν τὸ πέταλον ἔχουσα, ἔτι «τὸν κλάδον ἁπαλὸν» φύουσα, ἔτι «ὀπώρας βλαστάνουσα». συνῄνει δὲ τοῖς λεγομένοις καὶ ὁ πατὴρ καὶ οὕτω δὴ ἐπὶ τὰς ταφὰς τὴν ἀδελφὴν ἐκκομίζουσιν ἔτι καταλαμπομένην τῷ κάλλει, ἔτι τὴν φαιδρὰν χάριν τοῦ προσώπου προφαίνουσαν. Ἔφασαν οὖν ὡς ἐπειδὴ τὰς τῶν τριχῶν αὐτῆς κατέξαναν ἕλικας καὶ τῶν ἐσχάτων τῆς κλίνης οἱ τὸν νεκρὸν κοσμήσαντες ἀπῃώρησαν-ἦν γὰρ ἄλλως ἐκείνη τὴν κόμην χρυσῆ καὶ πολύχους-καὶ ἡ ἐκφορὰ «μετέωρος ἦν» καὶ τοῖς ἐκ τριωρόφων καταφανής, οὐκ ἔστιν ὅστις πρὸς ἐκείνην μεταστρέψας τὸν ὀφθαλμόν, ἢ οὐκ ἀποβεβήκει τοῦ ἵππου ἢ οὐ καταβεβήκει τοῦ τριωρόφου· πάντες γοῦν καὶ πᾶσαι συνείποντο καὶ τῆς θρηνῳδίας μετεῖχον κοινῇ. τοιαύτη τῇ μητρὶ ἡ πρὸς τὸν κρείττονα βίον μετάθεσις, αὕτη ἐκείνῃ «τοῦ μοναδικοῦ βίου» ἡ πρόφασις, τοῦτο τὸ πάθος πρὸς τὴν ἀπαθῆ ζωὴν ἐκείνην μετήνεγκεν, οὗτος ὁ θάνατος «ἀθανασίας» ἐκείνῃ «πρόξενος» γίνεται. Οἷα δὲ καὶ τὰ μετὰ ταῦτα; οὐ γὰρ ἅπαξ