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De Creta capta

PRAEFATIO AD NICEPHORVM PHOCAM

These things concerning Crete have been composed by me before now, O sun of magistroi and avenger of Rome, but have not been published; on the one hand, so that your victorious achievements might not be handed over to oblivion by time—for what valor accomplishes, time obscures, unless a narrative gets there first and stores it up in some books—but it has not been published because of fear and hesitation and because much was left out and was overwhelmed by your achievements. Accept then, even if they are lacking in worth, the stammerings of Theodosius, and permit me to write about the destruction and capture of Aleppo; for thus having become more eager, I will become, as far as I am able, a historian of your achievements. For Achilles and Alexander of Macedon and those after them who were the best generals have carried off great glory through historical writing even until now; and the one is sung of by Homer, while the others are sung of and celebrated by Plutarch and others until now. As if in person, at any rate, the beginning of the iambics seems to be addressed to our former emperor, but to whom the main point of the praises is addressed, you will know straightaway. THE CAPTURE OF CRETE COMPOSED BY THEODOSIUS THE HUMBLE DEACON

TO THE PHILANTHROPIC AND MIGHTY EMPEROR ROMANOS

I. Old Rome, do not envy the master, setting your generals against the new one; for with empty impulse and in vain did Scipio plunder all the wealth of glory; for what was the strength or power of Carthage, when he, standing by with a battle of ten thousand swords, sent disasters upon the city being sacked? Who was Sulla, the bold general, who struck the burned city of Athens, defeated by the slaughter itself? Who was Caesar, who ran with his armies in unmixed encounters every day? Who was that man who was defeated with a fleet and in turn destroyed his conquerors with a wooden stake? There was no other general like the master, even if Pompey, boasting of wealth, should rush forth and stand armed by the battles as if alive and give the brilliant double crowns of fortune. But you, Homer, making boastful noises, exalting small things, come here, not deceiving with words, speak to us quietly and with shame. For the tumult of the ten-year siege is now small in our eyes and full of blame; for having known the towered houses of Ilium from its remains, having fallen into wonder and laughter, on the one hand we laugh at the web of lies, and on the other we applaud the turn of phrases. But, O mixing-bowl of generals, who mixes lowly deeds into lofty words, judge for yourself and, abandoning old partiality, become a balanced scale. and even in death applaud with your words the all-glorious and wise strategies of the master; for small in our eyes is the army of Greece, small the phalanxes, weak the generals, Ajax, Achilles, Odysseus, Diomedes, for whom great glory and the disastrous company of falsely named gods wickedly tore them from their hopes. But if it seems to you that I walk well on the paths of truth or run badly beside them, cease here from the slaughters of Ilium, singing tragically of the streams of blood of Crete.

For when the army of the master arrived, fenced in by many swift transport ships, the land of the barbarians groaned and turned away from the neighboring sea. And the general who was sent, Nikephoros, knowing himself to be the first champion of the battle, drew up all the phalanxes sword in hand, he drew up the ranks, the squadrons

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De Creta capta

PRAEFATIO AD NICEPHORVM PHOCAM

Ταῦτά μοι, ὦ μαγίστρων ἥλιε καὶ Ῥώμης ἐκδικητά, πεπόνηται μὲν πρὸ καιροῦ περὶ Κρήτης, οὐ δέδοται δέ· τὸ μὲν ἵνα μὴ χρόνοις τὰ σὰ τῶν τροπαίων λήθῃ παραδοθῇ κατορθώματαἃ γὰρ ἀνδρεία ποιεῖ ἀμαυροῖ χρόνος, εἰ μὴ λόγος προφθάσας ἐν βίβλοις τισὶν ἐναπόθηται, οὐ δέδοται δὲ φόβῳ καὶ συστολῇ καὶ τῷ πολλὰ ἐναπολειφθῆναι καὶ ἡττηθῆναι τοῖς σοῖς κατορθώμασι. ∆έξαι οὖν, εἰ καὶ τῆς ἀξίας εἰσὶν ἐνδεᾶ, Θεοδοσίου ψελλίσματα καὶ περὶ τῆς τοῦ Χάλεπε γράφειν ἐπίτρεψον καταστροφῆς καὶ ἁλώσεως· οὕτω γὰρ προθυμότερος γεγονὼς τῶν σῶν κατορθωμάτων, ὡς ἐξόν, γενήσομαι συγγραφεύς. Ἀχιλλεὺς γὰρ καὶ ὁ Μακεδόνων Ἀλέξανδρος καὶ οἱ μετ' αὐτοὺς στρατηγήσαντες ἄριστα πολὺ τὸ κλέος τῇ συγγραφῇ καὶ μέχρι τοῦ νῦν ἀπηνέγκαντο· καὶ ὁ μὲν Ὁμήρῳ, οἱ δέ γε Πλουτάρχῳ καὶ ἄλλοις μέχρι τοῦ νῦν ᾄδονται καὶ φημίζονται. Ὡς ἐν προσώπῳ γοῦν ἡ μὲν ἀρχὴ τῶν ἰάμβων δοκεῖ πρὸς τὸν πάλαι βασιλέα ἡμῶν, τὸ δὲ τῶν ἐπαίνων κεφάλαιον πρὸς τίνα, εἴσῃ εὐθύς. ΑΛΩΣΙΣ ΚΡΗΤΗΣ ΠΟΝΗΘΕΙΣΑ ΠΑΡΑ ΘΕΟ∆ΟΣΙΟΥ ∆ΙΑΚΟΝΟΥ ΤΑΠΕΙΝΟΥ

ΤΩΙ ΦΙΛΑΝΘΡΩΠΩΙ ΚΑΙ ΚΡΑΤΑΙΩΙ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΙΡΩΜΑΝΩΙ

Αʹ Ῥώμη παλαιά, μὴ φθόνει τὸν δεσπότην τοὺς σοὺς στρατηγοὺς προσβαλοῦσα τῇ νέᾳ· κενῇ γὰρ ὁρμῇ καὶ μάτην ὁ Σκηπίων τὸν πλοῦτον ἐσκύλευσε τῆς δόξης ὅλον· ἰσχὺς γὰρ ἦν τίς ἢ κράτος Καρχηδόνος, ὅταν παρεστὼς μυριοξίφῳ μάχῃ τὰς συμφορὰς ἔπεμπε τῇ πορθουμένῃ; τίς ἦν ὁ Σύλλας, ὁ θρασὺς στρατηγέτης, ὁ τῶν Ἀθηνῶν τὴ κεκαυμένην πόλιν βαλών, ἀπ' αὐτῆς τῆς σφαγῆς ἡττημένην; τίς ἦν ὁ Καῖσαρ, ὁ στρατευμάτων τρέχων ἐν ταῖς ἀφύρτοις συμπλοκαῖς καθημέραν; τίς ἦν ἐκεῖνος ὁ κρατηθεὶς ἐν στόλῳ καὶ τοὺς κρατοῦντας ἀνταναλώσας ξύλῳ; οὐκ ἦν στρατηγὸς ἄλλος ὡς ὁ δεσπότης, κἂν πλουτολεκτῶν ἐκδραμὼν ὁ Πομπίος ὡς ζῶν παραστῇ ταῖς μάχαις ὡπλισμένος καὶ δῷ τὰ λαμπρὰ τῆς τύχης διπλᾶ στέφη. Σὺ δὲ κτυπῶν, Ὅμηρε, κομπώδεις κτύπους, ὑψῶν τὰ μικρά, δεῦρο, μὴ κλέπτων λόγοις, λάλει πρὸς ἡμᾶς ἡσύχως μετ' αἰσχύνης. πορθήσεως γὰρ τῆς δεκαχρόνου κλόνος μικρὸς παρ' ἡμῖν ἄρτι καὶ πλήρης ψόγων· τῆς Ἰλίου γὰρ τοὺς προπυργίους δόμους ἐκ τῶν ἀπ' αὐτῆς λειψάνων ἐγνωκότες εἰς θαῦμα καὶ γέλωτα συμπεπτωκότες, πῇ μὲν γελῶμεν τῇ πλοκῇ τῶν ψευσμάτων, πῇ δ' αὖ κροτοῦμεν τῇ στροφῇ τῶν ῥημάτων. ἀλλ', ὦ στρατηγῶν ὁ κρατήρ, ὁ μιγνύων πράξεις ταπεινὰς εἰς ἐπηρμένους λόγους, δίκασον αὐτὸς καὶ προσωποληψίαν ἀφεὶς παλαιὰν ὡς ζυγὸς γενοῦ στάθμης. τοῦ δεσπότου δὲ καὶ θανὼν κρότει λόγοις τὰς παντοπόμπους καὶ σοφὰς στρατηγίας· μικρὸς γὰρ ἡμῖν ὁ στρατὸς τῆς Ἑλλάδος, μικραὶ φάλαγγες, ἀσθενεῖς στρατηγέται, Αἴας, Ἀχιλλεύς, Ὀδυσσεύς, ∆ιομήδης,οἷς δόξα πολλὴ καὶ θεῶν ψευδωνύμων ἡ συντριβὴ φέρουσα τὰς ὁμιλίας κακῶς κατεσπάραττεν ἐκ τῶν ἐλπίδων. ἀλλ', εἰ δοκεῖ σοι τῆς ἀληθείας τρίβους καλῶς βαδίζειν ἢ κακῶς παρατρέχειν, ἐνταῦθα παῦε τῶν φόνων τῆς Ἰλίου, Κρήτης τραγῳδῶν τὰς ῥοὰς τῶν αἱμάτων.

Ἐπεὶ γὰρ ἧκεν ὁ στρατὸς τοῦ δεσπότου, πολλαῖς ταχείαις ὁλκάσιν πεφραγμένος, ἡ γῆ μὲν ἐστέναζεν ἡ τῶν βαρβάρων καὶ γειτονοῦσαν τὴν ὑγρὰν ἀπεστράφη. ὁ δὲ στρατηγὸς ὁ σταλεὶς Νικηφόρος, εἰδὼς ἑαυτὸν τῆς μάχης πρωτεργάτην, ἔστησε τὰς φάλαγγας ἐγξίφους ὅλας, ἔστησε τάξεις οὐλαμοὺς