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Epitaph for Theodora, daughter-in-law of Bryennius

Epitaph for the wife of the son of the most fortunate Caesar, lord Nikephoros Bryennios, the lady Theodora

I do not know how now to deliver my speech, and how I might run the course set before me, and who I should become in the present circumstances. If I gaze into the abysses of suffering and consider the loss that has occurred, I measure out other abysses of lamentations, I mix the crater of my speech with tears, I weave a mournful narrative and am moved to deep groans. If I look to the blessed end of her who has now died and left this life, I leap with the very hosts on high, and my heart rejoices securely and joins the celestial marshallings, which make a common festival and joy of receiving the radiance of so great a soul. I am thus divided and torn in two, and a balance of joy and tears frequently inclines me this way and that. For when I review and run through your fortunes from the beginning to the very end, O ornament of womanhood, hearth of virtues and truly a great gift of God the Word, a heroic garden brought you forth and a royal root sprouted you, the beautiful and well-ordered cultivated vine; this nobility of birth is one good thing, but the world-guiding arm of providence lifted and transferred you from a fortunate land to one thrice more fortunate, and rooted you in golden gardens, in those most royal gardens, in which bloomed countless lilies, and the whiteness of the roses was infinite, and much ivy crept, and so much smilax; and He gave you such beautiful gardeners, both the pre-eminent among empresses, the all-renowned among women, Irene, a most gaping abyss for gifts, who crowned the crown itself with virtues, mistress of her passions, not only of the earth; and she who is from her and like her in her ways, the famed glory of the Doukas line, the wise Anna, an intellect personified, a hearth of graces, the white-and-red purple-blossomed rose, even if now a black calyx covers it, of my lord (stay for me, O flow of tears), of my lord (do not break, my heart), of my lord (endure, my wretched breast), the wife of my lord the Caesar. Directing your whole life towards them and adding imitation to your nature, you were well cultivated and grew up with them, a young shoot running straight up, like a vine, like a young cypress, and to the all-beautiful branch sprung from them, the one gushing with much grace from every side, from name, form, and noble character, you were grafted by the bonds of marriage laws. And from this you brought forth new fruit, abounding in all forms of goodness and especially in the fine name of its grandfather. Such were these things of yours; but the fortunes that followed, what mind of bronze or mouth of iron will utter without groans and tears? For he who came to your lawful bed, the all-handsome and sweet John, was campaigning beyond the Halys river and again serving with his maternal uncle and lord, a horse-archer completely clad in iron and forged down to his ankles, and he was cleansing the cities of the barbarians; but an army of barbarian sicknesses hastened to capture you completely, his city, now kindling whole furnaces of burning fevers and setting you ablaze, now filling you with successive chills and freezing you like crystal; from which most of your limbs wasted away in the course of the eighth waning moon, during all of which the sickness was unceasing and the affliction was fixed upon you continually, as if you had been thrown into the river of Tartarus and from there brought to the craters of Etna; for the end of the burning was the beginning of shivering, and the end of the shivering was the burning again. And indeed in the midst of the cold and the heat

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Epitaphius in Theodoram nurum Bryennii

̓Επιτάφιοι τῇ γυναικὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ πανευτυχεστάτου καίσαρος κυροῦ Νικηφόρου τοῦ Βρυεννίου, κυρᾷ Θεοδώρᾳ

Οὐκ οἶδα πῶς νῦν ἐξοδεύσω τὸν λόγον καὶ πῶς δραμοίμην τὸν προκείμενον δρόμον καὶ τίς γενοίμην ταῖς ἐνεστώσαις τύχαις. Ἂν ταῖς ἀβύσσοις ἀτενίσω τοῦ πάθους καὶ τὴν προβᾶσαν ἐννοήσω ζημίαν, ἄλλας ἀβύσσους ἐκμετρῶ θρηνημάτων, δάκρυσι κιρνῶ τὸν κρατῆρα τοῦ λόγου, ὀδυρματώδη τὴν ἀφήγησιν πλέκω καὶ πρὸς στεναγμοὺς ἐκκινοῦμαι βυθίους. Ἂν ἐς τὸ μακάριον ἐμβλέψω τέλος τῆς νῦν θανούσης καὶ λιπούσης τὸν βίον, σκιρτῶ μετ' αὐτῶν τῶν ἐφ' ὕψους ταγμάτων καί μοι γέγηθεν ἀσφαλῶς ἡ καρδία καὶ ταῖς ἄνωθεν συγκροτεῖ στραταρχίαις, κοινὴν ἑορτὴν καὶ χαρὰν ποιουμέναις τὸ τηλικαύτης προσλαβεῖν ψυχῆς σέλας. ∆ιχάζομαι γοῦν καὶ μερίζομαι μέσος καί με τρυτάνη χαρμονῆς καὶ δακρύων ἐκεῖθεν ἔνθεν θαμινῶς μετακλίνει. Ὡς γὰρ ἀπ' ἀρχῆς ἄχρις αὐτοῦ τοῦ τέλους τὰς σὰς ἐπέλθω καὶ διαδράμω τύχας, ὦ θήλεος κόσμημα, καλῶν ἑστία καὶ δῶρον ὄντως τοῦ Θεοῦ Λόγου μέγα, ἡρωϊκὴ κήπευσις ἐξήνεγκέ σε καὶ ῥίζα βασίλειος ἐβλάστησέ σε τὴν ἡμερίδα τὴν καλὴν καὶ κοσμίαν· ἓν τοῦτο καλὸν ἡ γενικὴ σεμνότης, ἀλλὰ μετῆρε καὶ μετηνέγκατό σε ὁ τῆς προνοίας κοσμαγωγὸς βραχίων ἐξ εὐτυχοῦς γῆς εἰς τρισευτυχεστέραν κήποις τε χρυσοῖς ἐγκατερρίζωσέ σε, κήποις ἐκείνοις τοῖς βασιλικωτάτοις, ἐν οἷς ὑπήνθει μυρίον μὲν τὸ κρίνον, ἀπείριτος δὲ τῶν ῥόδων ἡ λευκότης, πολὺς δ' ὁ κιττὸς εἷρπεν, ὁ σμίλαξ δ' ὅσος· καὶ τὰς φυτουργοὺς ὡς καλὰς δέδωκέ σοι αὐτήν τε τὴν προὔχουσαν ἐν βασιλίσι, τὴν παμβόητον ἐν γυναιξὶν Εἰρήνην, τὴν πρὸς δόσεις ἄβυσσον ἀχανεστάτην, τὴν ἀρεταῖς στέψασαν αὐτὸ τὸ στέφος, τὴν τῶν παθῶν δέσποιναν, οὐ τῆς γῆς μόνον, καὶ τὴν ἀπ' αὐτῆς καὶ κατ' αὐτὴν τοῖς τρόποις, τὸ ∆ουκικὸν θρύλλημα, τὴν σοφὴν Ἄνναν, τὸν ἄντικρυς νοῦν, τὴν χαρίτων ἑστίαν, τὸ λευκέρυθρον πορφυράνθητον ῥόδον, κἂν νῦν μέλαινα τοῦτο καλύπτῃ κάλυξ, τοῦ δεσπότου μου (στῆθί μοι, ῥοῦς δακρύων), τοῦ δεσπότου μου (μὴ ῥαγῇς μοι, καρδία), τοῦ δεσπότου μου (τέτλαθι, στέρνον τάλαν), τοῦ δεσπότου μου τὴν ὅμευνον καίσαρος. Πρὸς ἃς κατευθύνουσα πάντα τὸν βίον καὶ προστιθεῖσα τὴν μίμησιν τῇ φύσει καλῶς πεφυτούργησο καὶ συνηυξάνου, ὅρπηξ νεαρὸς ἀκλινῶς ἀνατρέχων, ὡς ἀναδενδράς, ὡς κυπάριττος νέα, καὶ τῷ παρ' αὐτῶν φύντι παγκάλῳ κλάδῳ, τῷ πάντοθεν βρύοντι πολλὴν τὴν χάριν ἐκ κλήσεως εἴδους τε καὶ σεμνοῦ τρόπου, δεσμοῖς γαμικῶν συνεκεντρίσθης νόμων. Καὶ καρπὸν ἐβλάστησας ἐκ τούτου νέον, πάσαις περιβρίθοντα χρηστῶν ἰδέαις καὶ τῇ καλῇ μάλιστα παππωνυμίᾳ. Τοιαῦτα μέν σου ταῦτα· τὰς δ' ἑξῆς τύχας τίς χάλκεος νοῦς ἢ σιδήρεον στόμα δίχα στεναγμῶν φθέγξεται καὶ δακρύων; Ὁ μὲν γὰρ εἰς νόμιμον ἐλθών σοι λέχος, ὁ πάντα καλὸς καὶ γλυκὺς Ἰωάννης, ὑπὲρ τὸν Ἅλυν ἐξεδήμει καὶ πάλιν τῷ μητραδέλφῳ συστρατεύων δεσπότῃ, ὅλος σιδηρόφρακτος ἱπποτοξότης καὶ μέχρι ταρσῶν ἐσφυρηλατημένος, καὶ συγκαθῄρει τὰς πόλεις τῶν βαρβάρων· σὲ δὲ στρατιὰ βαρβάρων νοσημάτων ὅλην ἑλεῖν ἔσπευδε, τὴν τούτου πόλιν, νῦν μὲν καμίνους πυρετῶν πρηστηρίων ὅλας ἀναφλέγουσα καὶ φλέγουσά σε, νῦν δ' ἀλλεπαλλήλων σε τῶν ῥιγωμάτων πιμπλῶσα καὶ ψύχουσα κρυστάλου δίκην· ἐξ ὧν τὰ πλεῖστα τῶν μελῶν ἔρρευσέ σοι δρόμῳ σελήνης ὀγδόῳ τετηγμένῃ, ἐν οἷς ὅλοις ἄληκτον ἦν τὸ τῆς νόσου καὶ συνεχὴς ἡ θλίψις ἐστήρικτό σοι, ὡς εἰς ποταμὸν Ταρτάρου βεβλημένῃ κἀκεῖθεν εἰς κρατῆρας Αἴτνης ἠγμένῃ· ἦν γὰρ τὸ τέρμα τῆς πυρᾶς ἀρχὴ φρίκης καὶ τῆς φρίκης τὸ τέρμα τῆς πυρᾶς πάλιν. Καὶ τοῦ κρύους μὲν ἐν μέσῳ καὶ τοῦ θέρους