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most vile, that I may not stain my tongue, a dissembler in word and in name. The beast full of venom, the dread and horrible workshop of envy, The brief monument of all evils that exist, For whom it is not right to approach even the divine doors, they have set before my purifications, and the labors of this grey hair, my stonings and my expiations. Alas! Which of the wise will praise these things? O you who have entered into the recesses of my heart! O you who direct all things, and carry them to another life! These have made me second to evils. And shall the evil ones from there stand far off? They shield each other for ill. 1339 Looking to one thing, the security of their thrones. But may I have the fate of which I am worthy. If there is no one here, my Christ, you are my portion, Whom it is better to have than all things and all men. The only sure and free possession. From this no envy will cast us out.

41. Against Maximus. What is this? Do you also dare, Maximus, to write? You dare to write? How great is the shamelessness! This is now even beyond dogs. All things are dared by all. O the sweep of the times! Just like mushrooms, to spring up suddenly as wise generals, noble bishops, 1340 having toiled not at all for a noble portion. From which what results? Virtue is curtailed, bearing no advantage, while rusticity has taken a courage not well unpunished, if it babbles a few small words. Let one tumble without learning, let one shoot with a bow, Let one be carried aloft on wings to the clouds. To wish is enough, nowhere to know. Are you not also suddenly inspired by the Muses for us, as some of the wise of old are said to be? Did not some branch of laurel drive you mad; Or have you suddenly drunk of prophetic waters, and then poured forth verses, being yourself without measure? O incredible and new tidings! 1341 Saul a prophet, Maximus a prose-writer! Who is not a prophet? Who will restrain his hand? The paper, the pen is for all, even old women. To speak, to write, to gather audiences, you even to stir up applause, being in no way cautious. Few among the listeners are wise; but many are Maximuses and frantic. To please these, but to let the wise go, those who are polished and collected. Let them laugh. But if it is necessary to defend oneself, all things are dared. Boldness possesses the wise. Let them know Maximus from his outspokenness. We too have the power to laugh. Is there anything easier now than to laugh, and richly? Be an orator, but a dog to the insolent. 1342 Thus will it be possible to be overcome by no one. I will shout again, O words, and often. Thus I will empty my passion, but for a short while. You dare to write? Tell me, where and whence having learned? And of whose hand is the work of writing? But not so yesterday. You were content, if the white cloak provided you a meager barley-cake, and the cynic barking of your life and manner. Words then were to you as a lyre to a donkey, and a wave to oxen, and a yoke to sea-creatures. But now you are for us an Orpheus, moving all things with his fingers, or Amphion the wall-builder by his melodies. Such are dogs, if they live luxuriously. Or did midwives inspire this boldness in you, your co-workers, and playmates in words, 1343 of whom you are the swan, to whom you sing musically, when they flow, like Zephyrus over wings gladly spread out in gentle breezes? But you write; what indeed? And against whom, dog? You write against a man, for whom to write is nature, as it is for water to flow, and for fire to heat; for I omit to say, one who has done no wrong, but as far as you are concerned, has been greatly insulted. Alas for the folly! What uneducated boldness! You call a horse, my good man, to a smooth course; You prod a lion with a very weak hand. Unless we suppose you considered this one thing, that not even when being insolent will you be deemed worthy of a word, this one thing you seem to me to have that is also wise. 1344 For who, being in his right mind, would engage in a fight with a dog?

42. A lament for his own toils, and a prayer to Christ for release from his

own life. Dear earth, and Pontus, soil of my fatherland and of foreign lands, And youth, and the gray hairs of life's setting, and winged Stories, excessive toil, and those which the bright Spirit bore, And

37

κάκιστον, ὡς ἂν μὴ χράνω Τὴν γλῶσσαν, εἴρων ἐν λόγῳ καὶ τοὔνομα. Τὸ πλῆρες ἰοῦ θηρίον, τὸ τοῦ φθόνου ∆εινόν τε καὶ φρικῶδες ἐργαστήριον, Τὴν τῶν, ὅσ' ἐστὶ, σύντομον στήλην κακῶν Ὧ μηδὲ θείας πρὸς θύρας φοιτητέον, Ἐμῶν ἁγνισμῶν, καὶ πόνων τῆσδε τριχὸς Ἐμῶν λιθασμάτων τε καὶ καθαρμάτων Προὔθηκαν. Οἴμοι! τίς τάδ' αἰνέσει σοφῶν; Ὦ καρδίας κευθμῶσιν ἐμβεβὼς ἐμῆς! Ὦ πάντα νωμῶν, καὶ φέρων ἄλλῳ βίῳ! Οὗτοι κακῶν με δεύτερον τεθείκασι Καὶ τῶν δ' ἐκεῖθεν οἱ κακοὶ σταῖεν πρόσω; Αὐτοὶ συνασπίζουσιν ἀλλήλοις κακῶς. 1339 Πρὸς ἓν βλέποντες, τῶν θρόνων τὸ ἀσφαλές. Ἐγὼ δ' ἔχοιμι μοῖραν ὧνπερ ἄξιον. Εἰ δ' ἐνθάδ' οὐδεὶς, Χριστέ μου, σύ μου μερὶς, Ὃν κρεῖσσον, ἢ τὰ πάντα καὶ πάντων, ἔχειν. Μόνον βέβαιον κτημάτων κ' ἐλεύθερον. Τούτου μὲν ἡμᾶς οὔ τις ἐκβαλεῖ φθόνος.

ΜΑʹ. Πρὸς Μάξιμον. Τί ταῦτα; τολμᾷς καὶ σὺ, Μάξιμε, γράφειν; Γράφειν σὺ

τολμᾷς; τῆς ἀναιδείας ὅση! Τουτὶ μὲν ἤδη καὶ κυνῶν ἀνώτερον. Τολμητὰ πάντα πᾶσιν. Ὢ καιροῦ φορᾶς! Ὥσπερ μύκητας, ἀθρόως ἀνατρέχειν Σοφοὺς στρατηγοὺς, εὐγενεῖς ἐπισκόπους, 1340 Μηδὲν προμοχθήσαντας εἰς μοῖραν καλοῦ. Ἐξ ὧν τί γίνετ'; ἀρετὴ κολούεται, Μηδὲν πλέον φέρουσα, τῆς ἀγροικίας Θάρσος λαβούσης οὐ καλῶς ἀζήμιον, Ἂν μικρὰ ἄττα σπερμολογήσῃ ῥήματα. Κυβιστάτω τις μὴ μαθὼν, τοξευέτω, Πτεροῖς φερέσθω πρὸς νέφη μετάρσιος. Ἀρκεῖ τὸ βούλεσθ', οὐδαμοῦ τὸ εἰδέναι. Μὴ καὶ σὺ μουσόπνευστος ἡμῖν ἀθρόως, Ὥσπερ λέγονται τῶν πάλαι σοφῶν τινες; Μὴ καὶ σὲ δάφνης ἐξέμηνέ τις κλάδος· Ἦ μαντικῶν πέπωκας ὑδάτων ἄφνω, Ἔπειτα μέτρων ἔβλυσας, ἄμετρος ὤν; Ὢ τῶν ἀπίστων καὶ νέων ἀκουσμάτων! 1341 Σαοὺλ προφήτης, Μάξιμος λογογράφος! Τίς οὐ προφήτης; τίς καθέξει τὴν χέρα; Πάντων ὁ χάρτης, ἡ γραφὶς καὶ γρᾳδίων. Λέγειν, γράφειν, θέατρα συλλέγειν, σύγε Κρότους ἐγείρειν μηδὲν εὐλαβούμενος. Βραχεῖς μέν εἰσι τῶν ἀκουόντων σοφοί· Πολλοὶ δὲ Μάξιμοί τε καὶ παράφοροι. Τούτοις ἀρέσκειν, τοὺς δὲ σοφοὺς χαίρειν ἐᾷν, Τοὺς ἐσμιλευμένους τε καὶ συνηγμένους. Αὐτοὺς γελώντων. Ἂν δ' ἀμύνασθαι δέῃ, Τολμητὰ πάντα. Τοὺς σοφοὺς ἔχει θράσος. Τὸν Μάξιμον γνώτωσαν ἐκ παῤῥησίας. Καὶ ἡμῖν ἐστι τοῦ γελᾷν ἐξουσία. Τούτου τι ῥᾷον ἄρτι γελᾷν καὶ πλουσίως; Ῥήτωρ μὲν ἴσθι, τοῖς δ' ὑβρίζουσι κύων. 1342 Οὕτως ὑπάρξει τὸ κρατεῖσθαι μηδενός. Πάλιν βοήσομ', ὦ λόγοι, καὶ πολλάκις. Οὕτω κενώσω τοῦ πάθους, ἀλλὰ βραχύ. Γράφειν σὺ τολμᾷς; εἰπέ μοι, ποῦ καὶ πόθεν Μαθών; τίνος δὲ χειρὸς ἔργον τὸ γράφειν; Ἀλλ' οὐ χθὲς οὕτως. Ἠγάπας δ', εἴ σοι στενὴν Μάζαν πορίζοι τὸ λευκὸν τριβώνιον, Τό θ' ὑλακόμωρον τοῦ βίου καὶ τοῦ τρόπου. Λόγοι δέ σοι τότ' ἦσαν, ὡς ὄνῳ λύρα, Καὶ βουσὶ κῦμα, καὶ ζυγὸς θαλασσίοις. Νῦν δ' Ὀρφεὺς ἡμῖν πάντα κινῶν δακτύλοις, Ἢ τειχοποιὸς Ἀμφίων ἐκ κρουμάτων. Τοιοῦτόν εἰσιν, ἢν τρυφῶσιν, οἱ κύνες. Ἦ σοί γε μαῖαι τοῦτ' ἐνέπνευσαν θράσος, Αἱ σαὶ συνεργοὶ, καὶ λόγων συμπαίστορες, 1343 Ὧν εἶ σὺ κύκνος, αἷς ἐνηχεῖς μουσικὸν, Ὅταν ῥέωσιν, ὡς ζέφυρος κατὰ πτερῶν Αὔραις πραείαις ἀσμένως ἁπλωμένων; Γράφεις δέ· δὴ τί; καὶ κατὰ τίνος, κύων; Γράφεις κατ' ἀνδρὸς, ᾧ γράφειν ἐστὶ φύσις, Ὡς ὕδατι ῥεῖν, καὶ τὸ θερμαίνειν πυρί· Ἐῶ γὰρ εἰπεῖν, οὐδὲν ἠδικηκότος, Ὅσον δ' ἐφ' ὑμῖν, καὶ μάλισθ' ὑβρισμένου. Φεῦ τῆς ἀνοίας! ὡς ἀπαίδευτον θράσος! Ἵππον καλεῖς, βέλτιστε, πρὸς λεῖον δρόμον· Λέοντα νύσσεις ἀσθενεστάτῃ χερί. Πλὴν εἴ σε τοῦτο θῶμεν ἐσκέφθαι μόνον, Ὡς οὐδ' ὑβρίζων ἀξιωθήσῃ λόγου, Ἓν τοῦτ' ἔχειν γε καὶ σοφὸν δοκεῖς ἐμοί. 1344 Τίς γὰρ κυνὶ πλέκοιτ' ἂν, εὖ φρονῶν, μάχην;

ΜΒʹ. Θρῆνος διὰ τῶν αὐτοῦ μόγων, καὶ πρὸς Χριστὸν δέησις περὶ λύσεως τοῦ

αὐτοῦ βίου. Γαῖα φίλη, καὶ Πόντε, πάτρης πέδον ἀλλοδαπῆς τε, Καὶ νεότης, πολιή τε βίου δύσι, καὶ πτερόεντες Μῦθοι, μόχθε περισσὲ, καὶ οὓς τέκε Πνεῦμα φαεινὸν, Καὶ