Liv Reads Statius: The Thebaid (Part 3)
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Fresh for everyone. Aplican restricciones en combustible. Support for this podcast and the following message is brought to you by E-Trade from Morgan Stanley. With E-Trade, you can dive into the market with easy-to-use tools, $0 commissions, and a wide range of investments. And now there's even more to love.

Get access to industry-leading research and insights from Morgan Stanley to help guide your decisions. Open an account and get up to $1,000 or more with a qualifying deposit. Get started today at etrade.com. Terms and other fees apply. Investing involves risks. Morgan Stanley Smith Barney LLC member SIPC. E-Trade is a business of Morgan Stanley. Hello, this is Let's Talk About Myths, baby, and I am your host.

live here with another reading episode. We are returning to Statius Thebiad, this mythic, epic,

poem about I don't know why I'm phrasing like that this epic poem about the house of Thebes Thebes broadly all of these moments which are depicted in piecemeal stories from earlier times and plays and so many things but which only survive in this type of epic storytelling

from this. This is from the Roman period, but featuring such clear Greek stories. There's kind of a lot going on here, but we are just jumping right back in and returning. Now, this episode is going to appear sometime in

Um, I am, I'm traveling a bit right now. And so I was trying to prepare a bunch of episodes in advance. I'm trying to share with you all, um, episodes from the other shows that are joining the Memory Collective Podcast Network because I'm, I'm so excited and it makes it feel real. Cause otherwise I've just been like working on trying to put this thing together that, um, I don't really know what I'm doing, but I just feel like it has to exist. Um, and this makes it real, but I'm also trying not to like not give you guys any episodes of like traditional let's talk about Miss Baby shows. And so this will appear somewhere.

I don't know. You'll, if, if you're hearing it, then, then it's here.

Now, in order to recap, because it's been over a month now, I meant to read one last month and honestly totally forgot. But it's been a little bit. So I'm just going to start by honestly straight up reading a little bit. It's a quote from Wikipedia, just their synopsis of book two. So I can just remind you what we went over last time in book two before we jump right into book three. And so to be reminded via Wikipedia, thank you.

Argea and Daipili, Adrastus's daughters, marry Polyneices and Tydeus, respectively. Their father thus concludes a military alliance with his sons-in-law. The wedding ceremony is marred by ill omens caused by Argea's wearing of the Necklace of Harmonia, a cursed object first worn by Harmonia. The wife of Thebes' mythical founder Cadmus,

Polyneices dreams of recovering his throne and asks his new allies for their support. Short of going to war, Tydeus is sent on an embassy to Thebes. Ateocles is visited by the ghost of his grandfather Laius, who warns him about his brother's intentions. Thus instructed, he rejects the Argive embassy and sends a group of 50 warriors to ambush Tydeus on his way home.

In the ensuing battle, Tydeus single-handedly kills all but one Theban soldier. Maion, the only survivor, returns to the palace.

That was pretty helpful. Anyway, again, that was from Wikipedia. Remember that Ateocles and Polyneices. Ateocles is still in Thebes. Polyneices is in Argos trying to get Thebes back. Both of them are the sons of Oedipus and Jocasta, all in this line of Cadmus and Harmonia. And with that out of the way, let's return.

This is The Thebiot by Statius, translated by J. H. Mosley, book 3. But not to the perfidious lord of the Aeonian palace comes the repose of slumber in the twilight hours, although for the dark stars long labour yet remains till dawn.

in his mind care holds vigil and reeks the penalty for his plotted crime then fear gloomiest of augurs in perplexity broods deeply ah me he cries why this tarrying for he had deemed the task a light one and tydeus an easy prey to so many warriors nor weighed his valour and spirit against their numbers

went they by different roads was a company sent from argos to his succour or has news of the deed spread around the neighbouring cities chose we too few o father gratovus or men unrenowned in action but valiant chromis and dorilus and the thespians a match for these towers of mine could at my bidding level all argos with the ground

Nor proof I wean against my weapons has he come hither, though his frame were wrought of bronze or solid adamant. For shame, you cowards, whose efforts failed before a single foe, if indeed you fought at all. Thus is he tormented by various gusts of passion, and above all his sword, as he spoke in mid-assembly, nor openly sated to the full his savage wrath.

now he feels shame of his design and now repents him of the shame and like to the appointed helmsman of a calabrian bark upon ionian waters nor does the lack sea craft but the olenian star rising clearer than its wont has beguiled him to leave a friendly haven when a sudden uproar fills the wintry sky and all heaven's confines thunder

and Orion in full might brings low the poles. He himself would fain win the land, and struggles to return, but a strong south wind astern bears him on. Then, abandoning his craft, he groans, and heedless now follows the blind waters. Even so, the Aganorian chieftain upbraids Lucifer, yet lingering in the heavens, and the sun so slow to rise on the distressed.

"'Low beneath the western rain of night her course already turned, "'and the setting stars, so soon as mighty Tethys had driven forth tardy Hyperion "'from the eastern sea, the earth with swaying masses trembled to her foundations. "'Drear signs of ill to come, and Kytharion was stirred and made his ancient snows to move.'

Then were the rooftops seen to rise and the sevenfold gates to meet the mountain ridges.

"'Nor distant was the cause. Wrath with his destiny, and sad that death had been denied him, "'the son of Hymon was returning in the cold hour of dawn. "'Not yet is his face plain, but, though indistinct to view, "'he gave from afar clear signs of dire disaster by wailing and beating his breast, "'for all his tears had soon been shed.'

Not otherwise does a bereaved herdsman leave the glade where savage wolves have wrought nocturnal carnage. What time a sudden squall of rain and the windy horns of the winter moon have driven his master's cattle to the woods.

Light makes the slaughter manifest. He fears to take the new tidings to his lord, and pouring unsightly dust upon his head fills the fields with his lamentations, and hates the vast and silent stalls when he calls aloud the long roll of his lost bulls.

when the mothers crowding to the threshold of the gates beheld him all alone ah horror no troop around him or valiant chieftains then they venture not to question him but raise a cry like unto the last cry when cities are flung open to the victors or when a ship sinks at sea

as soon as audience at his desire was granted by the hated king this hapless life-fierce tydeus does present you of all that company whether the gods have willed it so or fortune or as my anger feels shame to confess that man's unconquerable might

Scarce do I believe my own report, all have perished, all. Witness nights wandering fires, my comrades ghosts, and you, evil omen wherewith I must needs return. No tears nor wiles won me this cruel grace and dishonored gift of life.

but the gods command snatched destruction from me an atropos whose pleasure knows no denial and the fate that long since shut against me this door of death

and now that you may see that my heart is prodigal of life nor shrinks from final doom it is an unholy war you have begun you man of blood no omens will approve your arms and while you endeavor to banish law and reign exultant in your kinsman's exile the unceasing plaint of a long line of ruined desolate homes

And fifty spirits hovering night and day shall haunt you with dire terror, for I also delay not. Already the fierce king's anger was stirred, and blood lights up his scowling visage. Then Phlegius and Labdacus, who never dallied at evil work—the realm's armed might was in their keeping—prepare unbidden to go and assault him with violence.

But already the great-souled seer had bared his blade, and looking now at the truculent tyrant's face, now at his sword, never shall you have power upon this blood of mine, nor strike the breast that great Tydeus spared. I go, yes, exultant, and meet the fate whereof he robbed me. I am born to the shades of my expectant comrades, and as for you, to the gods in your brother.'

"'Even as he spoke, the sword was in his side, to the hilt, cutting short his words. "'He fights against the agony, and with a strong effort doubling himself over, the mighty blow sinks down, "'and the blood, sped by the last gaspings of his life, comes forth now from his mouth, now from the wound.'

The chiefs are stricken with dismay, the counsellors mutter in alarm, but he, with visage set and grim in the death his hand accomplished, is borne to his house by his wife and trusty kinsmen, who have had no long joy of his return. But the mad rage of the impious ruler cannot so long be stayed. He forbids that the corpse be consumed with fire, and in vain defiance bars the peace of the tomb from the unwitting shades.

But you, so noble in your death and in your constancy, you will never suffer oblivion, such is your due reward. You who dare scorn a monarch to his face, and thus hallow the path of ample freedom. By what strain of sufficing utterance can I add due renown to your high prowess? Augur, beloved by the gods?

not in vain did apollo teach you all his heavenly lore and deem you worthy of his laurel and dodona mother of phorus and the kyrian virgin shall rejoice to keep the folk in suspense while phoebus holds his peace

And now, far removed from Tartarian Avernus, go you and roam Elysian regions, where the sky admits not Ogygian souls, nor a guilty despot's cruel behests have power, your raiment and your limbs endure. Left inviolate by gory beasts and the forests and the birds with sorrowing awe, watch over you as you lie beneath the naked sky.

But fainting wives and children and ailing parents pour forth from the city walls, and by easy road or trackless region everywhere haste in piteous rivalry, eager to gain the object of their own lament, while in their company go crowded thousands, zealous to console. Some are burning with desire to see one warrior's achievement in all the labours of the night.

The road is loud with lamentation and the fields re-echo the cries of grief. But when they reach the infamous rocks in the accursed wood, as though none had mourned before them, nor bitter tears had flowed, once cry of keenest anguish rises as from one mouth, and the sight of carnage drives the folk to madness.

grief inconsolable stands there with bloody raiment rent and with pierced breast incites the mothers they search the helmets of the warriors now cold in death and display the bodies they have found stretched prostrate alike on stranger and on kinsman

some steep their hair in the gore some close up eyes and wash the deep wounds with their tears others draw out the darts with vainly merciful hand others gently replace the severed limbs and set the heads again to their shoulders

but eyed wanders through the thickets and on the open dusty plain eyed mighty mother of twin heroes twinned now in death with dishevelled hair all flowing and nails piercing deep her livid cheeks

No more unhappy or pitiable is she but terrible in grief, and everywhere by weapons and by bodies she strews on the dire ground with her white, uncombed locks, and in helpless plight seeks her sons and over every corpse makes lamentation.

Not otherwise does the Thessalian witch, whose race is hideous art it is to charm back men to life by spell of song, rejoice in warfare lately ended, and holding high her wooden torch of ancient cedar nightly haunt the fields while she turns the slain folk over in their blood and tries the dead to see which corpse she shall give many a message for the world above.

The gloomy councils of the shades complain, and black Avernus's sire waxes indignant. Together they were lying apart from the rest beneath a rock, fortunate that one day one hand had wrought their doom, their wound-pierced breasts are knit fast by the uniting spear.

she saw them and her eyes made passage for the streaming tears is it so you embrace my sons is it so you kiss before your mother's eyes is it so that death's cruel cunning at the final hour has bound you

"'Which wounds shall I touch first? Which face caress? Are you those strong defenders of your mother, that glory of my womb, whereby I thought to touch the gods and surpass the mothers of Ogygia in renown? How much better far, how happy in their union are they whose chamber is barren, whose house Lucina never visited in the cry of labour?'

No, to me my labour has brought but sorrow. Nor in the broad glare of battle met you a glorious fate, nor daring deeds ever famous among men did you seek a death whose story might be told to your unhappy mother. But obscure you fell and counting but the tale of death. Alas, in what streams of blood you lie, unnoticed and unpraised.

i dare not indeed sunder your poor embracing arms or break the union of so noble a death go then and along abide true brothers unparted by the final flames and mingle your loved ashes in the urn

No less in the meantime do the rest make lament, each over their own slain. Here does his wife mourn Chthonius. There, Astyok, his mother grieves over Pentheus, and tender lads, your offspring, Pheidamas, have learnt their father's fate. Marpessa loves Pheidias, her betrothed, and his sisters cleanse the blood-stained Achamas.

"'Then with the iron they lay bare the woods "'and lop the antique crown of the neighboring hill "'that knew the secret of the night's doings "'and watched the agony there before the funeral pyres. "'While each clings to the fire he himself has kindled, "'aged Alates speaks consoling words to the unhappy company.'

often indeed has our race known sorrow and been racked by the heartless sport of fate yes ever since the sidonian wanderer cast the iron seed upon the furrows of ionia whence came strange growing and fear to the husbandmen of their own fields

but neither when cadmus's palace sank into fiery ashes at cruel juno's bidding nor when hapless athamas gaining a deadly fame came down from that astinid mount hailing alas

with exultant cries laercas nigh a corpse has such woe come to thebes nor louder than did phnician homes re-echo when weary agawe overcame her frenzy and trembled at her comrade's tears

"'One day alone matched this in doom and brought disaster in like shape that day "'when the impious Tantalid atoned her presumptuous boasting, "'when she caught up all those bodies whose countless ruin strewed the earth around her "'and sought for each its funeral flames.'

as great then was our people's woe and even so from forth the city went young and old and mothers flocking and cried out their hearts bitterness against heaven and in crowding misery thronged the double pyre at each mighty gate i too so i remember though my years were tender wept nevertheless and equalled my parents tears

yet those ills were heaven-sent nor would i more lament that the mad molossian hounds knew not their master when he crept forth from his unholy hiding-place to profane o delia your chaste fountains nor that the queen her blood transformed melted suddenly into a lake such was the hard assignment of the sisters and so jove willed it

but now by a cruel monarch's crimes have we lost these guiltless citizens so many chiefs of our land and not yet has the fame of the spurned covenant reached argos and already we suffer the extremities of war alas what sweat of toil in the thick dust of battle is in store for men and steeds alas how high will you flow you rivers blushing your cruel red

all this will our youth behold yet green to war as for me may i be granted while it may be my own funeral pyre and be laid in my ancestral earth so spoke the aged man and heaped high the crimes of ateocles calling him cruel and abominable and doomed to punishment whence came this freedom of speech

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Fresh for everyone. Aplican restricciones en combustible. Support for this podcast and the following message is brought to you by E-Trade from Morgan Stanley. With E-Trade, you can dive into the market with easy-to-use tools, zero-dollar commissions, and a wide range of investments. And now there's even more to love.

Get access to industry-leading research and insights from Morgan Stanley to help guide your decisions. Open an account and get up to $1,000 or more with a qualifying deposit. Get started today at E-Trade.com. Terms and other fees apply. Investing involves risks. Morgan Stanley Smith Barney, LLC. Member SIPC. E-Trade is a business of Morgan Stanley. All this the creator of the stars had long observed from the summit of the world and seen the people stained by the first bloodshed.

then bids he gratovus straight be called he having laid waste with slaughter the wild bostonian folk and gethic towns was driving his chariot in hot haste towards the ethereal heights flashing the splendour of his lightning crested helm and angry golden armour alive with monstrous shapes of terror

Heaven's vault roars thunderous, his shield glows with blood-red light, and its emulous orb strikes on the sun from afar. When Jupiter saw that he had yet panted with his somatic toils, and that the tempest of war yet swayed his breast—

Even as you are, my son, even so high you from Argos, with your sword thus dripping in such a cloud of wrath. Let them cast off the sloth that curbs them. Let them hate all and desire but you. Let them in frenzy vow to leave their lives in hands. Sweep away the doubting. Confound all treaties you may consume in war. To you have I granted it. Even gods themselves, I am the peace of Jove.

Already I have sown the seeds of battle. Tydeus, as he returns, brings news of monstrous outrages, the monarch's crime, the first beginnings of base warfare, the ambush and the treachery, which with his own weapons he avenged. Add you credence to this tale, and you, you gods, scions of my blood, indulge no angry strife, no rivalry to win me by entreaties.

"'Thus have the fates sworn to me and the dark spindles of the sisters. This day abides from the beginning of the world ordained for war. These people are destined to battle from their birth, but if you suffer me not to exact solemn vengeance for their sins of old, and to punish their dreadful progeny, I call to witness these everlasting heights, our race's holy shrine and the Elysian streams that ever I hold sacred.'

With my own arm will I destroy Thebes and shatter her walls to their foundations, and cast out upon the Anarchian dwellings her uprooted towers, or else pour down my rain upon them and sweep them into the blue depths. Ay, though Juno's self should embrace her hills and temples and toil amid the chaos. He spoke, and they were spellbound at his commands.

mortal in mind you had deemed them so curbed they one and all their voice and spirit even as when a long truce of winds has calmed the sea and the shores lie wrapped in peaceful slumber indolent summer sets her spell upon forest leaves and clouds and drives the breezes far

Then on lakes and sounding mirrors the swelling waters sink to rest, and rivers fall silent beneath the sun's scorching rays. Exulting with joy at these commands, and glowing yet with his chariot's burning heat, Grativus leftward swung the reins. Soon he was gaining his journey's end in the steeps of heaven, when Venus, unafraid, stood in his horse's very path.

backward they gave place and even now have dropp'd their thick manes in suppliant wise to earth then leaning her bosom on the yoke and with sidelong tearful glance she began meanwhile bow'd at their mistress feet the horses champ the foaming steel

war even against thebes o noble father war do you yourself prepare and the sword's destruction for all your race and does not harmonia's offspring nor heaven's festal day of wedlock nor these tears of mine you madman give you one moment's pause

is this your reward for my misdoing is this the guerdon that the lemnian chains and scandal's tongue and loss of honour have won for me at your hands

proceed then as you will far different service does vulcan pay me and even an injured husband's wrath yet does my bidding if i were to bid him sweat in endless toil of furnaces and pass on sleeping nights of labour he would rejoice and work at arms and at new accoutrements yes even for you

"'You, but I assay to move rocks and a heart of bronze by praying. "'Yet this sole request, this only do I make in anxious fear. "'Why did you have me join our beloved daughter "'to a Tyrian husband in ill-omened wedlock, "'and boast the while that the Tyrians of dragon-stock "'and direct lineage of Jove would win renown in arms "'and show hearts keen and alive for action?'

ah would rather our maiden had married beneath the scythonian pole beyond boreas and your thracians have i not suffered wrong enough that my daughter crawls her length upon the ground and spews poison on the illyrian grass now her innocent race

no longer could the lord of war endure her tears but changed his spear to his left hand and in a moment leapt from the lofty car and clasping her to his shield hurt her in his embrace and with loving words thus soothes her

O you who are my repose from battle, my sacred joy, and all the peace my heart does know, you who alone of gods and men can face my arms unpunished, and check even in mid-slaughter my neighing steeds, and tear this sword from my right hand. Neither the marriage bond of Sidonian Cadmus have I forgotten, nor your dear loyalty. Rejoice not in false accusing."

May I be rather plunged, God though I be, in my uncle's infernal lakes, and be hunted weaponless to the pale shades. But now it is the fate's behest and the high father's purpose I am bid to perform. No fit choice were Vulcan's arm for such an errand. And how can I dare face Jove or go about to spurn his spoken decree? Jove, at whose word such power is his."

I saw of late earth and sky and ocean tremble, and mighty gods one and all seek hiding. Dear one, let not your heart be sore afraid. I pray you, these things no Tyrian power can change. And when soon beneath the Tyrian walls both races are making war, I will be present and help our kindred arms.

"'Then with happier means shall you behold me descending in fury "'upon the Argive fortunes far and wide over the bloody plain. "'This is my right, nor do the fates forbid it.' "'So speaking, he drove on through the open air his flaming steeds. "'No swifter falls upon the earth the anger of Jove "'whenever he stands on snowy Othris or the cold peak of northern Osa "'and plucks a weapon from the cloud.'

Fast flies the fiery bolt bearing the gods' stern command, and all heaven, affrighted at its threefold trail, soon threatens with ominous signs, the fruitful fields, or overwhelms unhappy sailors in the deep. And now Tydeus on his homeward way passes, with weary step through the Danaean lands and down the slopes of green prosimna.

"'Terrible is he to behold. His hair stands thick with dust. From his shoulders filthy sweat drips into his deep wounds. His sleepless eyes are raw and red, and gasping thirst has made his face drawn and sunken. But his spirit, conscious of his deeds, breathes lofty pride.'

So does a warrior bull return to his well-known pastures with neck and shoulders and torn dewlap streaming with his foe's blood and his own. Then too does weary valor swell high, filled with pride as he looks down upon his breast. His enemy lies on the deserted sand, groaning, dishonored, and forbids him to feel his cruel pains.

Such was he, nor failed he to inflame with hatred the midway towns, all that lie between Assopos and ancient Argos, renewing everywhere and often the tale how he had gone on embassy from a Grecian people to claim the realm of exiled Polyneices, but had endured violence, night crime, arms treachery. Such was the Achaeonian monarch's plighted faith.

to his brother he denied his due rights the folk are swift to believe him the lord of arms inclines them to credit all and once welcomed rumor redoubles fear

"'When he entered within the gates, and it happened that the revered father Adrastus was himself summoning his chiefs to council, he appears all unexpectedly, and from the very portals of the palace cries aloud, "'To arms! To arms, you men, and you, most worthy ruler of Lerna, if you have the blood of your brave ancestors, to arms!' Natural ties, justice, and reverence for Jove have perished from the world.'

better had i gone on envoy to the wild saromatai or the blood-stained warden of the babrickian grove i blame not your commands nor regret my errand glad i am that i went yes glad and that my hand has probed the guilt of thebes

it was war believe me war like a strong tower or city stoutly fortified was i beset all defenceless and ignorant of my path treacherously at night by a picked ambuscade armed to the teeth ay but in vain they lie there now in their own blood before a city desolated

Now, now is the time to march against the foe, while they are struck by panic and pale with fear, while they are bringing in the corpses now, father, while this right arm is not yet forgotten. I, myself even wearied by the slaughter of those fifty warriors, and bearing the wounds you see still running with foul gore, beg to set forth upon them this instant.

in alarm the sons of anacus start up from their seats and before them all the cadmian hero runs forward with downcast countenance ah hated of the gods and guilty that i am do i see these wounds myself unharmed

is this then the return you had in store for me brother am i the mark then of my kinsman's weapons ah shameful lust of life unhappy i to have spared my brother so great a crime let now your walls at least abide in tranquil peace let me not who am still your guest bring on you such tumult i now so hardly has fate dealt with me how cruel it is how sad to be torn from children wife and country

let no one's anxious home reproach me nor mother's fling at me sidelong glances gladly will i go and resolve to die yes though my loyal spouse calls me back and her father's voice once more pleads with me this life of mine i owe to thebes to you o brother and to you great tydeus

Thus with varied speech he tries their hearts and makes dissembling prayer. His complaints stir their wrath, and they wax hot in tearful indignation. Sponsaneously, in every heart, not only of the young, but of those whom age has made cold and slow to action, one purpose rises—to leave desolate their homes, to bring in neighbouring bands, and then to march.

But the deep counseling father, well versed in the government of a mighty realm, said, Leave that, I pray you, to the gods and to my wisdom to set aright. Your brother shall not reign unpunished, nor are we eager to promise war. But for the present receive this noble son of Aeneas, who comes in triumph from such bloodshed, and let long-sought repose calm his warlike spirit. For our part, grief shall not lack its share of reason.

Straightway, his comrades and anxious wife bestir themselves in haste, all thronging round the way-worn and battle-weary Tydeus. Joyfully, in mid-hall, he takes his seat and leans his back against a huge pillar, while Epidarian Idmon cleanses his wounds with water.

Idmon, now swift to ply the knife, now gentler with warm juice of herbs, he himself, withdrawn into his mind's deep brooding, tells over the beginning of the deeds of wrath, the words each spoke in turn, the place of ambush, and the time of secret battle, what chieftains and how great were matched against him, and where most he laboured, and he relates how Maion was preserved to take the sad tidings.

The faithful company, the princes, and his wife's sire are spellbound at his words, and wrath inflames the Tyrian exile.

Far on the sloping margin of the western sea, the sinking sun had unyoked his flaming steeds, and laved their bright manes in the springs of ocean, to meet him, hastens Nereus, of the deep and all his company, and the swift striding hours who strip him of his reins, and the woven glory of his golden coronet, and relieve his horse's dripping breasts of the hot harness of

"'Some turn the well-deserving steeds into the soft pasture "'and lean the chariot backward, pole in air.'

"'Knight then came on and laid to rest the cares of men and the prowlings of wild beasts, and wrapped the heavens in her dusky shroud, coming to all with kindly influences. But not to you, Adrastus, nor to the Labdachian prince, for Tydeus was held by generous slumber, steeped in dreams of valiant prowess.'

And now amid the night-wandering shades, the god of battle from on high made to resound with the thunder of arms the Nemean fields and Arcadia from end to end, and the height of Tynaron and Theropnei, favorite of Apollo, and filled excited hearts with passion for himself. Fury and wrath make trim his crest, and panic, his own squire, handles his horse's reins.

But Rumour, awake to every sound and girt with empty tidings of tumult, flies before the chariot, sped onward by the winged steed's panting breath, and with loud whirring shakes out her fluttering plumes. For the charioteer with blood-stained goad urges her to speak, be it truth or falsehood, while threatening from the lofty car the father, with

with scythian lance assails the back and tresses of the goddess even so their chieftain neptune drives before him the winds set free from iolus's cell and speeds them willing over the aegean

in his train storms and high-piled tempests a surly company clamour about his rains and clouds and dark hurricane torn from earth's rent bowels wavering and shaken to their foundations the cyclades stem the blast even you delos fearest to be torn away from your mykonos and chiaros and entreatest the protection of your mighty sun

And now the seventh dawn with shining face was bearing bright day to earth and heaven when the Persian hero first came forth from the private chamber of his palace, distracted by thought of war and the prince's swelling ambition and perplexed in mind whether to give sanction and stir anew the rival peoples or to hold tight the reins of anger and fasten in their sheaths the restless swords.

on the one side he is moved by the thought of tranquil peace on the other by the shame of dishonoured quiet and the hard task of turning a people from war's new glamour in his doubt this late resolve at last finds favour to try the mind of prophets and the true presaging of those sacred rites to your wisdom amphiarius is given the charge to read the future and with you melampus son of

an old man now but fresh in vigour of mind and phoebus inspiration bears company it is doubtful which apollo more favours or whose mouth he has sated with fuller draughts of cera's waters at first they try the gods with entrails and blood of cattle even then the spotted hearts of sheep and the dread veins threatening disaster portend refusal to the timorous seers

yet they resolved to go and seek omens in the open sky a mount there was with bold ridge rising far aloft the dwellers in lerna call it ephesus sacred of yore to argive folk for thence they say swift perseus profaned the clouds with hovering flight when from the cliff his mother terror-stricken beheld the boy's high soaring paces and well nigh sought to follow

Here the two prophets, their sacred locks adorned with leaves of the grey olive, and their temples decked with snow-white fillets, side by side ascend, when the sun, rising bright, has melted the cold hoarfrost on the humid fields.

And first Euclides seeks with prayer the favour of the wanted deity. Almighty Jupiter, for you, as we are taught, impart counsel to swift wings, and do fill the birds with futurity, and bring to light the omens and causes that lurk in midheaven. Not Kira can more surely vouchsafe the inspiration of her grotto, nor those chaonian leaves that are famed to rustle at your bidding in Molossian groves.

"'Through arid Hamon envy and the Lycian oracle contend in rivalry, "'and the beast of Nile and Brancus, whose honour is equal to his father's, "'and Pan, whom the rustic dweller in wave-beat Pisa hears nightly beneath the Lyconian shades, "'more richly blessed in mind is she, for whom you, O Diction, does guide the favouring flights that show your will.'

mysterious in the cause yet of old this honour has been paid to the birds whether the founder of the heavenly abode thus ordained when he wrought the vast expanse of chaos into fresh seeds of things or because the birds went forth upon the breezes with bodies transformed and changed from shapes that once were ours

or because they learn the truth from the purer heaven where error comes not and alight but rarely on the earth it is known to you great father of earth and the gods grant that we may have foreknowledge from the sky of beginnings of the argive struggle and the contest that is to come

if it is appointed and the stern fates are set in this resolve that the lernian spear shall shatter the achaeonian gates show signs thereof and thunder leftward then let every bird in heaven join in propitious melody of mystic language if you do forbid then weave delays and on the right shroud with winged creatures the abyss of the day

so he spoke and settled his limbs upon a high rock then to his prayer he adds more deities and deities unknown and holds converse with the dark mysteries of illimitable heaven

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When they had duly parted out the heavens and long scanned the air with keen attention and quick following vision, at last the Amithionian seer said, "'Seize you not, Amphiarius, how beneath the breathing sky's exalted bounds no winged creature travels on a course serene, nor hangs aloft, encircling the pole in liquid flight, nor as it speeds along utters a cry of peaceful import?'

No dark companion of the tripod or fiery bearer of the thunderbolt is here, and fair-haired Minerva's hooting bird with the hooked beak comes not with better augury. But hawks and vultures exult on high over their airy plunder. Monstrous creatures are flying and direful birds clamor in the clouds. Nocturnal screech-owls cry and the horned owl with its dismal funeral chant.

what celestial portents are we to follow first must we take these as lords of the sky o thimbrienne even now in frenzy do they tear each other's faces with crooked talons and lash the breezes with pinions that seem to smite the bosom and assail their feathery breasts

the other in reply often indeed father have i read omens of various sort from phoebus yes when in my vigorous youth the pine-wood bark of thessaly bore me in company of princes half divine

even then did the chieftains listen spell-bound to my chant of what should befall us on land and sea nor mopsus's self was hearkened to more often by jason in perplexity than presagings of the future

But never ere this day felt I such terror, or observed prodigies so dire in heaven, yet happenings more awful are in store. Look here, then, in this clear region of profound ether, numberless swans have marshaled their ranks, whether Boreas has driven them from the Strymonian north, or the benignant fostering air of placid Nile recalls them.

they have stopped their flight these deem you in fancy to be thebes for they hold themselves motionless in a circle and are silent and at peace as though enclosed by walls and rampart but lo a more valiant cohort advances through the empty air a tawny line of seven birds that bear the weapons of jupiter supreme

"'I see, an exultant band. Suppose that in these you have the Anarchian prince. They have flung themselves on the circle of the snow-white flock, and open wide their hooked beaks for fresh slaughter, and with talons unsheathed press on to attack. Do you see the breezes dripping unwanted blood and the air-raining feathers? What sudden fierce anger of unpropitious Jove is driving the victors to destruction?'

this one soaring to the height is consumed by the sun's quick fire and lays down his proud spirit that other bold in pursuit of mightier birds you let sink you still frail pinions this one fails grappling with his foe that one is swept backwards by the rout and leaves his company to their fate this one a rain-cloud overwhelms another in death devours his winged foe yet living blood bespatters the hollow clouds

what mean those secret tears him yonder falling reverend melampus him i know full well affrighted thus by the future's dire import and having suffered all under a sure image of things to come the seers are held by terror it repents them that they have broken in upon the counsels of the flying birds and forced their will upon a forbidding heaven though heard they hate the gods that heard them

Whence first arose among unhappy mortals throughout the world that sickly craving for the future? Sent by heaven, would you call it? Or is it we ourselves, a race insatiable, never content to abide on knowledge gained, that search out the day of our birth and the scene of our life's ending? What the kindly father of the gods is thinking, or iron-hearted Clotho?

Hence comes that entrails occupy us, and the airy speech of birds, and the moon's numbered seeds, and Phacelia's horrid rites. But that earlier golden age of our forefathers, and the races born of rock or oak, were not thus minded. Their only passion was to gain the mystery, the mastery of the woods, and the soil by might of hand. It was forbidden to man to know what tomorrow's day would bring.

we a depraved and pitiable crowd probe deep the counsels of the gods hence come wrath and anxious fear hence crime and treachery and importunity in prayer

therefore the priest tears from his brow the fillets and wreaths condemned of heaven and all unhonoured his chaplet cast away returns from the hated mount already war is at hand and the sound of trumpets and in his heart he hears the clamour of absent thebes

not sight of populace nor trusted converse with the monarch nor council of chieftains can he bear but hidden in his dark chamber refuses to make known the doings of the gods you melampus shame and your own cares keep in your country region for twelve days he speaks not and holds people and leaders in long-drawn suspense

and now tumultuous grow the thunderer's high behests and lay waste of men both fields and ancient towns on every side the war-god sweeps countless troops before him gladly do they leave their homes and beloved wives and babes that wail upon the threshold with such power has the god assailed their frenzied hearts

Eager are they to tear away the weapons from their fathers' doorposts and the chariots made fast in the inmost shrines of the gods. Then they refashion for cruel wounds the spears that rotting rust has worn and the swords that stick in their scabbards from neglect and on the grindstone force them to be young once more.

Some try shapely helms and the brazen mail of mighty corslets, and fit to their breasts tunics that creak with moldering iron. Others bend Gortinian bows in greedy furnaces, scythes, plows, and harrows, and curved mattocks glow fiercely red. Nor are they ashamed to cut strong spearshaft from sacred trees, or to make a covering for their shields from the worn-out ox.'

They rush to Argos and at the doors of the despondent king clamor with heart and voice for war, for war. And the shout goes up like the roar of the Tyrrhenian surge or when Enceladus tries to shift his side. Above the fiery mountain thunders from its caves, its peak overflows and Pelorus's flood is narrowed and the sundered land hopes to return once more.

then capaneus impelled by the war's overmastering passion with swelling heart that had long thought scorn of lingering peace nobility of ancient blood had he in full measure but surpassing the prowess of his fathers he had long despised the gods impatient too was he of justice and lavish of his life did wrath but urge him

even as a dweller in pholoes dark forests or one who might stand equal among itnaian brethren clamors before thy portals amphiarius amid a crowd of chieftains and yelling folk

what shameful cowardice is this o sons of anacus and you achaeans of kindred blood before on citizens lowly door for shame do we hang irresolute so vast a host iron-girt and of ready valour

Not if beneath Kira's caverned heights he whoever he is, Apollo, cowards, and rumor account him, were to bellow from the deep seclusion of his crazy grotto, could I wait for the pale virgin to announce the solemn riddling's.

Valour and the good sword in my hand are the gods I worship. And now let this priest, with his timid trickery, come out on this very day. I shall make trial what wondrous power there is in birds. The Achaean mob raise a joyful outcry and encourage his madness.

at last euclides driven to rush forth among them said tis not the unrestrained clamour of a blasphemous stripling nor the fear of his taunts that draws me from my darkness mad though his threatenings be far different are the tumultuous cares that vex me far other is the destiny that brings my final doom nor may mortal arms have power upon me

But now my love for you and Phoebus's strong inspiration compel me to speak forth my oracle. Sadly to you will I reveal what is to come, yes, all that lies beyond. To you I say, for to you, you madman, naught may be foreshown. Concerning you only is our Lord Apollo silent.

Where, unhappy ones, where are you rushing to war? Though fate and heaven would bar the way, what fury's lash drives you blindly on? Are you so weary of life? Is Argos grown so hateful? Has home no sweetness? Heed you not the omens? Why did you force me to climb with trembling step to the secret heights of Perseus's mountain, and break into the council of the heavenly ones?'

I could have remained in ignorance with you, of what hapless awaits our arms when comes the black day of doom, what heralds the common fate, and mine. I call to witness the mysteries of the universe I questioned in the speech of birds, and you, Thim Brian, never before so pitiless to my supplication what presagings of the future I endured.

i saw a mighty ruin foreshown i saw gods and men dismayed and megara exultant and lachesis with crumbling thread laying the ages waste cast away your arms behold heaven yes heaven withstands your frenzy miserable but men what glory is there in drenching aonia in the fallows of dire cadmus with the blood of vanquished foes

"'Why do I warn in vain? Why do I repel a fate foredoomed? I go to meet it.' "'Here ceased the prophet, and groaned. "'Capanius yet once more said to yourself alone utter your raving auguries, "'that you may live empty and in glorious years. "'Nor ever the Tyrrhenian clangor resound around your temples.'

But why do you delay the nobler vows of heroes? Is it forsaid that you in slothful ease may lord it over your silly birds and your son and home and women's chambers? That we are to shroud in silence the stricken beast of peerless Tydeus and the armed breach of covenant?

do you forbid the greeks to make fierce war then go yourself an envoy to our sidonian foe these chaplets will assure your peace can your words really coax from the void of heaven the causes and hidden names of things pitiable in sooth are the gods if they take heed of enchantments and prayers of men

Why do you affright these sluggish minds? Fear first created gods in the world, rave therefore now your fill in safety. But when the first trumpets bray and we are drinking from our helms the hostile waters of Dirke and Ismenes, come not then, I warn you, in my path, when I am yearning for the bugle and the fray, nor by veins or view of winged fowl put off the day of battle."

Far away, then will be your soft fillet and he crazy alarms of Phoebus. Then shall I be augur, and with me all who are ready to be mad in fight. Again out thunders a vast approving shout and rolls uproarious to the stars.

even as a swift torrent drawing strength from the winds of spring and from the melting of the frozen cold upon the mountains when over vainly hindering obstacles it bursts its way out upon the plain then homesteads crops cattle and men roar mingled in the whirling flood until its fury is checked and baffled by a rising hill and it finds itself embanked by mighty mounds

"'Even so, interposing night set an end to the chieftain's quarrel. "'But Argia, no longer able to bear with calm mind her lord's distress "'and pitying the grief wherein she shared, even as she was, "'her face long marred by tearing of her hair and marks of weeping, "'went down to the high palace of her reverend father "'in the last watch of night-ear dawn.'

when Arctos's wagon soul-surviving envies the ocean-fleeing stars, and bore in her bosom to his loving grandfather the babe, Thursander. And when she had entered the door and was clasped in her mighty parents' arms, she said, "'Why I seek your threshold at night, tearful and suppliant, without my sorrowful spouse, you know, father, even were I slow to tell the cause.'

but i swear by the sacred laws of wedlock and by you o father it is not he that bids me but my wakeful anguish for ever since hymen at the first and unpropitious juno raised the ill-omened torch my sleep has been disturbed by my consort's tears and moans

Not if I were a tigress bristling fierce, not if my heart were rougher than rocks on the sea strand could I bear it. You only can help me. You have the sovereign power to heal. Grant war, O father. Look on the lowest state of your fallen son-in-law. Look, father, here on the exile's babe. What shame for his birth will he one day feel?

ah where is that first bond of friendship and the hands joined beneath heaven's blessing this surely is he whom the fates assigned of whom apollo spoke no hidden fires of venus have i in secret cherished no guilty wedlock your reverend commands your counsel have i ever esteemed

now with what cruelty should i despise his doleful plaint you know not good father you know not what deep affection a husband's misery implants in a loyal bride and now in sadness i crave this hard and joyless privilege of fear and grief

but when the sorrowful day interrupts our kisses when the clarions blare their hoarse commands to the departing host and your faces glitter in their stern casks of gold then dear father mayhap i shall crave a different boon her father with kisses on her tear bedewed face said never my daughter could i blame these plaints of yours

Have no fears, praiseworthy is your request, deserving no refusal. But much the gods give me to ponder, nor cease you to hope for what you urge, much my own fears and this realm's uncertain governance. In due measure shall your prayers be answered, and you shall not complain your tears were fruitless. Console your husband, and hold not just tarrying cruel waste of time.

His greatness of the enterprise that brings delay, so gain we advantage for the war. And thus he spoke. The new-born light admonished him, and his grave cares bade him arise. Oh, nerds, as always, that was very fun. I love these reading episodes and also reading for an hour straight.

It's not great for my voice. It's almost like I should have worked on that over the years. But here we are. Thank you so much for listening. As always, Let's Talk About Miss Baby is written and produced by me, Liv Albert. Except for this, you know, Stacious wrote this, but I read it and I changed words like thy.

in the moment as I read for you. So I still got credit. Michaela Pankowicz is the Hermes to my Olympians, my incredible producer. The podcast is part of the Memory Collective Podcast Network. It's just really exciting. It's like a thing. And like, also, um, there's a lot of work still to be done, but like, we're trying something. We're doing a thing. Select Music by Loop Chaos and the, um, you know, I don't know, find more, um, places. And,

If you want ad-free episodes and so much more, go to patreon.com slash missbaby. Or if you're just listening on Apple Podcasts and you just want ad-free options that's definitely not the most cost-effective, you can subscribe there too. But you're going to get a lot more for your money over on Patreon, where Apple doesn't take 30%.

unless you get it through the Apple app, which then does add 30% because again, Apple takes 30%. That was really rambly. I hope you just ignored it. I am Liv and I love this shit.

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Fresh for everyone. Aplican restricciones en combustible. Support for this podcast and the following message is brought to you by E-Trade from Morgan Stanley. With E-Trade, you can dive into the market with easy-to-use tools, zero-dollar commissions, and a wide range of investments. And now there's even more to love.

Get access to industry-leading research and insights from Morgan Stanley to help guide your decisions. Open an account and get up to $1,000 or more with a qualifying deposit. Get started today at E-Trade.com. Terms and other fees apply. Investing involves risks. Morgan Stanley Smith Barney, LLC. Member SIPC. E-Trade is a business of Morgan Stanley.