John Geometres

809 NOTITIA. 810

Joannes Geometra is frequently cited in the Greek Catenae on Luke, and also in the Catena Aurea of Thomas Aquinas. [And from the corrected edition of Morell in the Appendix to the Bibliotheca Patrum by Margarin de la Bigne, Paris 1634, and in volume XIV, ed. 1634, fol. Gr. and Lat.] Leo Allatius possessed a manuscript of a metrical paraphrase of the Canticles of Holy Scripture not unskillfully composed by Joannes Geometra, as he himself recounts in his *De libris ecclesiasticis Graecorum*, page 62. And Du Cange noted in his Greek Glossary that he read a paraphrase of the Canticle of the Theotokos in a Colbertine codex at the end of the Apollinarian Psalter. Similarly, in Baroccian codex 26 of the Bodleian Library, the Canticle of Moses paraphrased by Geometra occurs at the end of Apollinaris. Moreover, those *chairetismoi*, or four hymns to the Blessed Mary, of which the individual couplets begin with the word *chaire* ("rejoice"), also exist in manuscripts in the Vatican Library [see Montfaucon, *Bibliotheca bibliothecarum mss.* I, page 5, C] and in the Caesarean [Library], with an encomium in praise of Geometra appended, by an author I know not. They also exist together with various iambic epigrams in a manuscript codex which Antonius Eparchus gave as a gift to the most Christian King. See Banduri's notes to his *Antiquitates CPol.*, pages 877 and 881, who calls Geometra a very poor poet, a judgment unworthy of the age in which he lived, above all. Allatius, in his *De Simeonibus*, pages 94, 95, 114, unfolds and mentions Geometra's homilies or sermons on the passion of Christ and on the Blessed Virgin, another *exodion* or *propemptorion* on the falling-asleep of the Theotokos, and a third, addressed to her, a *prosphonetikon* or *charisterion*. In the second, he testifies that he also wove in apocryphal narratives about Mary which were not contrary to the writings of the Evangelists: "We have also gathered for ourselves not only those things from the Evangelists and the Prophets, but also those from the apocryphal books themselves, provided that these are in agreement and consistent with the Evangelists and Prophets, and with the great and God-inspired Fathers and teachers. And the just listener and judge will certainly know this."

FABR. [notes]: The oration of Joannes Geometra, Protothronos (*'Iwάννου πρωτοθρόνου τοῦ γεωμέτρου*), regarding the apple (*de malo*), which pursues the praises of the evil, or the apple, and an encomium on the oak by the same, an *ecphrasis* of a garden, and another *ecphrasis* and a certain encomium which begins "Why, then, the apple?", are in Baroccian codex 28. See *Catalogus codd. Angliae*, etc. I, page 3. The first oration regarding the apple also exists in the royal codex of Madrid 82, from which Iriarte transcribed and published it in Greek in the *Catalogus codd. Gr. Matrit.*, pages 301 ff. — In Florence, in the Laurentian library, codex X, n. 6, plut. 5: Iambic verses of Joannes Geometra on the martyrdom of Panteleemon. — In codex 27, n. 4: an explanation of the nine Canticles of the Church from the mouth of Joannes Geometra, in iambic verse, which Bandini published in Greek in his *Catalogus codd. Gr. Laur.* I, pages 65 ff. (and he treated of the aforementioned Laurentian codex on p. 23). The same person notes that the first of them is also in the cited Baroccian codex, but that all are held in Colbertine codex n. 1476, and that Leon Allatius had acquired them for himself at one time, as he himself testifies in his dissertation *De libris eccles.*, vol. II, p. 617; finally, that they also existed in the Uffenbach library, [according to the] index of J. Henr. Maius in *Bibliotheca Uffenb. ms.*, page 482, who reviewed the arguments of each, and brought the first and last poem to light as if they were unpublished. In the Escorial library: poems of Jo. Geometra, containing the whole struggle of the martyr Panteleemon (a), as attested by Plerus in *Itiner. per Hispan.*, page 146. — In the Coislin library, codex 106, fol. 177: a sermon of Jo. Geometra of thanksgiving on the Annunciation of the Theotokos (b). See Montfaucon, *Bibliotheca Coislin.*, page 181. — Ibid. p. 251: Niceta’s collection of interpretations from various interpreters (among these, Joannes Geometra) on the Gospel according to Luke is mentioned. — 1630, n. 15. — 2408, n. 9. — 2633. — Certain hymns of Jo. Geometra are in the Paris public libraries, codices 687, and in 2892, a paraphrase of the Canticles of Scripture in heroic verses. In Munich in the Elector’s library, codex 101, the same. See *Cat. codd. Gr. Bavar.* p. 38, where perhaps it is more correctly written "in iambic verses." In Vienna in the Caesarean theological codex 289, m. 30: four hymns to the Theotokos, with an anonymous epigram on Jo. Geometra, according to Nessel’s *Catalogus*, part 1, p. 398, or according to Lambecius, *Comment.* V, pages 347, ff. regarding codex 253. In Milan in the Ambrosian library: on the passion of Christ, as attested by Montfaucon in *Bib. bibliothec. mss.* I, p. 499 E, [who] also notes the same ib. II, page 1327 D: Joannes Geometra on heaven, Greek, among the de Mesme codices.

HARL. [notes]: [Poems of Joannes Geometra, as they say, various, in *Anecdota Graeca ex codd. mss. bibliothecae Parisiensis*, edited by J. A. Cramer at Oxford in the year 1841. Vol. IV, p. 266. There exist the nine paraphrases on Holy Scripture which Bandini had already edited, *Catalogus*, vol. 1, p. 64. Edit. Patr.]

(a) Published under this title: *Elogium S. martyris Panteleemonis*, in Greek iambics, once written by an uncertain author (who is believed to be Joannes Geometra) and recovered from the Royal library by Federicus Morellus. Paris, 1605, 12mo. Edit. Patr.

(b) [See the] sermon... intended to illustrate the mystery of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Theotokos, edited by Ant. Ballerini of the Society of Jesus. Rome, 1856, at the press of the S. C. de Propaganda Fide. This sermon, the editor says, is to be ascribed to a certain author, Joannes Geometra, not only as the Vatican codex among the Greek Palatines n. 402 bears witness, and with it the Coislinian n. 106, which is kept in the Imperial Parisian library, and the Baroccian XXV, but others also testify to this in Greek manuscript codices, as is evident from the *Heortodromion* of Nicodemus the monk, who also lists it in his Prolegomena to the Canon of the Annunciation among other homilies of the same subject, and then throughout the course of his commentary on the same Canon, he refers to certain fragments taken from it. Furthermore, we see particles of the same oration, sometimes shorter, sometimes longer, cited under the name of Geometra, both in the Catena of Niceta the deacon in Angelus Mai, and in another Catena of the Greek Fathers on Luke, which Corderius edited; to which can be added the *Catena Aurea* of St. Thomas Aquinas on the same Luke. ID.

Fragments of the commentaries of Joannes Geometra on St. Luke exist in the Catena of Nicetas Serronius, which we are publishing for the year 1090.

SERMON PROSPHONETICUS OR GRATULATORY OF THE BLESSED JOANNES GEOMETRA ON THE ANNUNCIATION OF THE MOST HOLY THEOTOKOS

^A 1. "Rejoice": this is the short and great prelude of my discourse for me. "Rejoice": this is the beginning, the middle, and the end. "Rejoice": this is what all of nature, and creation, and the Word now commands; nay, rather, this is what the Word himself, before all words—not only mine, but those of all men who have been, are, and shall be—the Word who is both of the Father and the Mind, the Word simultaneously with the Son, who is both of God and God, the truest as well as the most powerful, not only ordained, but brought to pass. Rejoice, heaven and earth, and every race, and every age, and both natures; men and women, the living and the dead, the whole of created nature, visible and invisible. And you are rejoicing, I know, having obeyed this great and fiery herald, just as through one woman came the curse, so now through one woman came joy, which has been diffused to all others besides; or rather, you have not merely heard the words, but have already enjoyed the realities of the grace.

^B 2. How great, then, is that which has now been spoken and at the same time enacted! It is great and terrible, and neither expressible in speech, nor graspable by hearing, nor comprehensible to the mind. God becomes man this day, and man becomes God; the enemy becomes a partaker of the same nature; and those things which were most hostile become most beloved, and those which were previously most incompatible become most intimately joined: Word and flesh, matter and flame, time and the timeless, the corporeal and the infinite. He who cursed now blesses; he who was an exile from Eden now makes it his dwelling; he takes up the nature that had been cursed and enters the womb. Adam regains Eden, and the Creator of both takes upon Himself the land that had been condemned to bring forth thorns; or better, the one receives heaven in place of Eden, and the Other, leaving the heavens, descends to the underworld.

^C 3. Let another, then, choose to celebrate and admire some other of the mysteries and some other of the feasts above this one, honoring with greater reverence the Lord Christ born for our sake, or manifesting Himself, or being transfigured, and bearing witness by the voice of the Father and the form of the Godhead.

or having himself transfigured, and receiving testimony both from the voice of the Father and from the splendid appearance of the Divinity, or performing any other work, whether of human things or divine, or of both combined in the economy, or finally, dying, and rising again, and ascending into the heavens, and raising me up also with him, achieving for himself the goal of the economy, and for me the goal of salvation. ^A But grant me to honor the root of all these things, and to place it before the rest, and to declare that while all those things—both intellect and word and the miracles preceding—are indeed great, this one surpasses even those in the wonder of it. For that God, already incarnate, should be born, and being born should appear, and having appeared should be revealed as the worker of such great and marvelous wonders, and should rise again—all these things belong to the sequence of events; and it is not so wondrous to compare them to God incarnate, as they are wonder-working. But that God should be incarnate, and the Incomprehensible be comprehended, and the King should become poor, and the enmity be destroyed, ^B and that the things that were incompatible should be mixed—natures and wills—this is that which both Paul, and every other nature, whether material or immaterial, desires to marvel at, but is unable to do so as it deserves.

IV. Moreover, if we rightly marvel at the branches, why shall we not marvel all the more at the root itself, before them, and for the sake of those very branches? So that, apart from other things and those proper to it, whatever anyone might say concerning the other mysteries, he will, by gathering all these things together, apply them to this feast, from which those others also flow; for this is the root of those fruits, and this is the spring of the rivers. I will add that it is also my life. It is as much, that God was seen as a mortal, as that a mortal was divinized. ^C And we have learned from the present mystery how great this is. I am in danger of attempting to compare this feast with others, as if it were simple, while finding it double, and by its partial aspect surpassing the other feasts, so that I have no way to judge its parts against one another, nor to which of the parts I should award the victory in wonder: that man should appear as God, or that God should be made man.

V. But unfolding the whole, I now find this to be even triple; and the proof is near. For it is not only the glad tidings, and those double at that, but I celebrate also the triumphs of nature, or rather of grace; for the one is overcome, but the other celebrates a triumph. I celebrate the conception of the Virgin, the gestation of the Virgin, and, a little later, the birth of the Virgin. ^D Virginity both begets and is begotten; for it begets the Word; but the Word being the Lawgiver, it is also itself begotten a little later, inasmuch as the Word himself grants to those who believe such a birth, just as it appeared, and just as it was fashioned. Now, therefore, you who celebrate the conception of the Word in the present solemnity, receive the discourse I am about to deliver, and philosophize rationally concerning the feast, so that this way it may be for you also something most reasonable and most appropriate regarding the feast.

^C

VI. The Word knows a twofold generation of the Word: the one above and first, the other below and second—or rather, the former is not even "first," but pre-eternal and everlasting; for how could that which never had a beginning be "first"? For "first" belongs to things under time. But first of what would this one even be? It is like none of the others in any way, nor is it like this lower one which is its own. But the former is solely above, and transcendent over every generation; the latter, while below, yet transcends all that is below and under time, by reason of its mode. And just as the former is timeless, so too is it inaccessible. For it surpasses not only time, but mode as well. And just as it is inaccessible, so too is it immaterial; for the generation of things immaterial and inaccessible cannot be material. And just as it is immaterial, so too is it inconceivable; for it is not first imperfect, and then perfect. ^D And just as it is inconceivable, so too is it without cause; for it is not for the sake of something else that the Son is Son—just as is the case with the Father, nor with the Spirit—but it has its principle, and yet it is caused; for how would He be Son, had He not received His being from the Father? And the one exists and will exist in this way, believed in always, but never at any time comprehended as to "when" or "how." The latter (the earthly) is similar to it in part, inasmuch as it is also without sexual union, without passion, and surpassing understanding; but in other respects it is different: it is corporeal, and has an accompanying conception, and is temporal, and has a cause—a cause which is my salvation. For the sole pretext for God becoming mortal was that man might become divine.

VII. For God did not come only to loose our punishment, nor only to abolish sin, but also to bestow upon us, out of His kindness, the likeness of Divinity, and to show that what was evil only in phantasy had been, in reality, most beautifully brought to completion. For after the envious one, that impostor, the father of malice and lies, had from the beginning slandered the Creator as envious, a liar, and an impostor, saying, "Why is it that God commanded you not to eat of this one tree?" and adding, "In the day you eat of it, you shall be as gods," and thus thrust him who was created by God away from that glory which is according to grace, by means of a most vain phantasy of dignity that was contrary to nature, and overturned nature—He, who alone is most free of envy, most true, most powerful, most philanthropic, and most wise, did then on the one hand, by the eating of the wood, prove his own truthfulness and expose the other's falsehood and envy, putting them to death; but now, on the other hand, He Himself having become the wood of life, has deified them, manifesting His own God-befitting and most good nature; and through those things by which He indicated the mode of deification, He revealed His most wise character; and through those things by which He was so emptied, and those in which He clothed Himself—the human—He revealed His most philanthropic character; and by those things through which He mingled the natures without confusion,

He revealed His most powerful character; and by those things in which He deemed that neither robbery nor change of glory took place, He revealed that which is, by nature, most royal.

[H] VIII. Thus matters stand, and for these reasons did the divine incarnation take place. Since it was necessary that the remedies should be fashioned to correspond to the diseases, He fashioned them accordingly. And for this reason an angel is sent on account of the angel, the one of light on account of the one of darkness, the prince on account of the ruler of this world, the winged one on account of the creeping one. And just as a woman is chosen on account of the woman—Life on account of Eve, an undefiled virgin on account of the corrupted one, she who was not snatched away on account of her who was deceived, she who was brought to the temple on account of her who fell from Eden, she who was not polluted even in her thoughts on account of her who was enticed by pleasure, she who constantly conversed with God and meditated upon the divine oracles on account of her who whispered evilly with the demon.

^A IX. The King’s daughter, for her part, was longing, and the King was desiring the beauty of the daughter; there was, therefore, a virgin mediatrix for the Word—the soon-to-be mediator and virgin—and the handmaid becomes a daughter, the daughter a bride, and the bride a mother. She receives joy on account of the curse, the Word on account of the deceit. She does not touch the tree, but the tree touches her—that of Life on account of that of knowledge. The Bridegroom approaches, and the paranymph stands by, at once rejoicing and trembling; rejoicing, as he ministers such good news, and of such magnitude, to both the maiden and the whole human race; trembling, as he is sent by the Master to the Mistress, and shows forth at once the fearful nature of the matter. And the servant, indeed, says: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” But the Master, passing beneath the word of the servant, He Himself, being truly the Word and God, having entered, was self-proclaiming.

^D X. But let us linger a little at these messages, and let us stand around the chambers, and let us look around at the bridal-suite, and let us unfold the wealth of the Bridegroom, or the beauty of the bride, and let us listen to the mystical instruction. Perhaps we too shall derive some great benefit from this discourse and these nuptial hymns. For what things does the paranymph—or the Bridegroom at the same time—testify, and promise, and present as gifts to the bride? And what kind of voices does the bride herself utter to him? “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Some of these belong to the bride, and others to the Bridegroom. [For the angel performs both.] For he testifies some things to her, and promises others. For some things, indeed, being already "full of grace,"

the dowry of the bride, while others pertain to the groom. [For the angel performs both,] as he testifies to her and makes promises. For the greeting "Hail, full of grace" is already hers because of her virtues; that is the bride's wealth. The Lord is with you—this is the end of the promise, ^A the groom himself, who as the Word, through the word, and with the word, and beyond the word, effects the union; (and that he should be with her, this is the whole gift, this is all the wealth of the groom, that the bride should have the groom himself.) And the same groom becomes at once both Father and Son, as he is himself the sower and himself the sown; or rather, just as rennet creates the whole nature, he brings it under his sway and fashions it for himself. And what of the final outcome! How it is both most complete and at the same time most concise, a sort of dowry and earnest of the groom; [“Blessed are you among women,” clearly above all women combined. But women are also entirely blessed in you, just as men are in the Son; or rather, both are blessed in both. For just as through one and one—a woman and a man—the curse and sorrow came, so even now, through one and one, blessing and joy have been spread to all others.] ^B

XII. But observe how all present things are the opposite of the ancient ones. There, "In pain you shall bring forth children"; here, "Hail," both casting out grief and introducing rejoicing in its place; there, sorrows precede the pains of childbirth, and pains succeed the sorrows, and again pains succeed the sorrows, and sorrows succeed the pains [a cycle of calamities]; for there is always the turning toward the husband, and the conception, and the bearing of children and pains together. Here, however, joy is the leader of the birth pangs; and grace itself is the midwife of this joy, and ^C gestation is sweet, and sweeter still is the ^D

divine birth, which stood forth simultaneously as the maker of the world's fruitfulness and its announcer.

XII. ^A [But look, I beseech you, at the pure and wise mind and speech of the Virgin. Although the voice of joy sounded, she did not merely prick up her ears, but carefully weighed the utterance; and yet she does not openly resist through unbelief, nor does she immediately yield through excessive facility; but, shunning in equal measure the leniency of Eve and the incredulous hardness of Zacharias, she stands cautiously and prudently in the middle. And she is indeed troubled; not so much at the sights—for the manifestation was bearable; besides, she was already accustomed to seeing such visions—but she was troubled at the words. And so, the evangelist records that the perturbation was caused not so much by the vision, but rather by the heard announcement. For he says: She was troubled at the saying.] ^B [It was not the birth itself, for she did not yet grasp the magnitude of that mystery. However, she feared and trembled at that divine address and visitation, and was anxious with doubts within herself as to what kind it was, and what it might mean—whether it was in any way dishonorable and improper, as from a man to a maiden, or whether it was divine, since there had been added in that very address the mention of God: "The Lord is with you."] ^C XIV. When, therefore, the Virgin answered nothing, but was sedulously inquiring within herself about that greeting, the joy-bringing groomsman—since he, as a mind, perceived her mind—not only dispels the fear, but also injects full joy, and announces to her the ineffable birth. "Do not fear," he says. This was said on account of the fear of those pains that were once threatened to women who bring forth. "For you shall bring forth a son, and shall call his name Jesus; for he shall save his people." By no means, he says, are you to think that any bitter or painful thing will come upon you from the birth; nay, the birth itself shall bring salvation to the whole world; and the proof of this work appears in the name itself. [Truly that "Behold" declares that there is no delay and the thing is done in the present; so that by it he might also make plain that the conception was accomplished through the Word and with the Word.] ^D [But, since according to the prophet it happens that in a womb spiritually understood, one may also conceive the Spirit of God and bring forth a Spirit of salvation, "but you," he says, "shall bring forth also a son."] [You, therefore, he says, shall call—not the father; for he has no father according to earthly generation, just as he has no mother according to the heavenly. You shall call him Jesus. From the benefaction is the naming, from the grace bestowed is the calling, from the works is the celebrity of the name: for through him the inexhaustible riches of salvation shall flow forth to all men.] [Since, moreover, this name was common to him along with that one who was his type, the leader of the host and guide of the people to the promised land, for this reason the angel, showing that he shall be according to that one, adds: "He shall be great..."] [The Lord shall therefore give to him the throne of David his father, as to a man, and as one beginning his kingdom from here, through those who believe, whom he also calls the house and throne of David and Jacob. And it is of no one else to reign to the...

^A age, unless it be God; so that even if he is said to receive the throne of David according to the economy as a man, yet he is the same King also in his divinity, eternal, and of his kingdom there shall be no end, not only inasmuch as he is God, but also inasmuch as he is man, and as he is not only King by nature, but also one who will reign by will—now over many, but at the end over all, when all things shall be subjected to him.]

^B XV. But let us now see the remainder, namely the words and the soul of the Bride herself, and how wise she is and how devoted to virginity. She neither has cause to doubt the angel, due to his trustworthiness, nor on the other hand is she satisfied to abandon her virginity, due to her purity; but she journeys in the midway between disbelief and readiness, and seeks the manner of this paradoxical marriage and conception. *How shall this be to me, since I know not a man?* [How, therefore, will this so divine and wonderful and inconceivable thing be, and not only this, but also incoherent? For that I should know a man, as I have been consecrated to God, is of the impossibilities; and that I should conceive and bear without a man is of the impossibilities. But as to the [statement], *since I know not a man*, she said it indeed partly referring to Joseph, as one who knew his marriage only up to the betrothal, and as one who acknowledged that she was to remain chaste from a man not only now, but to the very end, as a divine and untouchable offering. But she was also ensuring the truth of that tradition which comes down to us from the Fathers, that the Virgin did not know not only the experience of marriage, but not even the desire for it. "I have not known," she says, "the desire of a man; I have no will of the flesh." This, indeed, was exceptional in her over the entire female sex, because her chastity shone forth above all others, and because of her resolve [which was] altogether impervious to such corruption. ^C And so her words have a double explanation: for she is either altogether perplexed about the conception, as it is impossible without a man, or she is seeking the very mode of the conception, from whomever it might come about. For Joseph, she says, I know as a betrothed, but not as a husband, whom I neither have, nor perhaps shall I ever have. For it has not been given even to him to touch the untouchable, nor to plunder the enclosed garden, nor to unseal the sealed book. These things are in harmony with those things recorded in the apocrypha: that Joseph was chosen only on the title of the betrothal to be the guardian of her virginity; for it was not permitted that he should ever share in marriage with her, lest they be condemned for sacrilege, as those who plunder the offering of God.] ^D *When all things shall be subjected to him...*

^A XVI. What, then, does the conductor of the bride and the one who arranges the nuptials, the angel, say? [See how he removes the doubt for the Virgin and] how he interprets to her the incorrupt marriage, the ineffable birth [and the incomprehensible manner], and at the same time initiates her into the mystery of the Trinity; [“There is no need,” he says, “of a man; for your circumstances are not like those of others, just as those of your Son are not like those of other sons. Your conception is not the destruction of virginity, but on the contrary, its seal and preservation. Receive, therefore, O Virgin, that which is spoken; do not seek that which is silent. Concerning the birth, I bring proof; of its mode, I relinquish it. For I have come toward you not as a teacher of the economy; I have been sent as a minister and herald of the Lord’s arrival, not as an interpreter or an expositor of the command. How this shall be, He who is present knows Himself; that He is present, I know; but how it is to be done, I cannot say.”] *The Holy Spirit shall come upon you (and the power of the Most High shall overshadow you).* [“For it is not the advent of a man, but of the Holy Spirit, and the overshadowing of the power of the Most High itself. Therefore the Spirit,” he says, “shall come upon you,”] like one making a path and entering beforehand and purifying the bridal chamber for the Son, or rather, even further adorning it, even if it had been already purified and already adorned. *And the power of the Most High shall overshadow you*; this is the Son and the Father together: the one, the power, is the Son; the other, whose power it is, is the Father. For *Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God.* And *He shall overshadow you*: the Spirit shall overshadow you, but the Son shall also overshadow you, just as if he were adding to the gifts already outlined in some way by the Spirit even the very colors themselves, and all the paternal characteristics of Himself; or he says that He will outline His own invisible form in you in a shadowy way, and that which is ours shall be given form in you; or the very seal of the Father, the radiance, the overshadowing, shall be signified in you, carrying about in Himself all the paternal energies at once, or the shadows and the lineaments [and your Son, who is also the Son of God and Father, being made and called.] ^B XVII. But consider with me the precision. He says it is the advent of the Spirit, a simple illumination by relation; but the coming of the Son is also an overshadowing, that is to say, an indwelling according to substance, or even the taking up of flesh. Therefore, *that which is born shall be called holy, the Son of God.* It is not only on account of the union according to hypostasis, and on account of the deification according to grace, that He is and is called both Son of God and Son of man, but…

also on account of the communication of idioms; so that those things which are by nature proper to God are very often attributed to man, and conversely, those things which are by nature proper to man are attributed to God, on account of the extreme union and the circumincession.

XVIII. But why did he not say, "that which is generated of thee," but simply, "that which is generated"? Because he knew that generation is not properly and primarily of the woman, but of the man. For it belongs to the father to beget, but to the mother, having received it, to bring the generation to completion and to bring it forth. Thus, in order to show that this offspring—both generating and generated—does not belong entirely to her, nor indeed to any father whatever, but to Himself, he therefore spoke in this way.

[The angel says: "Have faith in these good tidings, along with other tidings similar to these and marvelous, which are both manifested through me and come to pass. You have proof of these things from many sources: from the name, from the relationship, from the fact itself, from the time, and from the miracle itself. For behold, Elizabeth, thy kinswoman, has conceived in her old age, she who is called barren—for she had arrived at such a state of childlessness that for her, the misfortune itself served as a designation—and furthermore, because nothing will be impossible with God 16."]

XIX. Even though she possessed in her very youthful body a perfection of both mind and spirit, as long as there was a suspicion of a man, she did not accept the conception. "But even if you are an archangel," she says, "and even if you bring me some supernatural and heavenly tidings, it is impossible for me to associate with a man and to conceive and to give birth." But after she had been told the good news of the arrival and indwelling—that of the Spirit, and that of the Son—she acquiesces and believes; for nothing is impossible with God 17. Yet she is not puffed up or exalted on account of this, but rather she falls down and abases herself; and she not only names herself a handmaid, but, as is fitting, says she is ready for the service; however, since the task was above her, she does not so much accept it as pray for the office. ^D Therefore, let one person praise and marvel at one thing concerning this mystery of the Virgin, and another at another: one at her discreetness, another at her obedience; one, that she was not carried away by such brilliant and great promises from a brilliant and great archangel; another, that she did not behave stubbornly beyond measure in her counter-arguments; but that she equally avoided both the naivety of the ancestress, Eve, I mean, and the disbelief of her kinsman Zachariah, shortly before. But the height of her humility seems to me no less wonderful, or rather, if anything else, most astonishing of all, on account of which perhaps even to...

such great height she was raised, and was consecrated to the ministry of Him who humbled himself even unto the body and death, even the death of the cross. ^A For what does she say? Having encountered such appearances and words from the Archangel, and having been called full of grace and the bride of God, and having believed the things spoken, she nevertheless calls herself a servant; and she receives the promise and agrees to it, but as something not according to her, but greater and beyond expectation, she prays for it to be done. "Behold the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word." Thus, therefore, the angel departed from her immediately, not only having completed what he wished, but also having been exceedingly struck by the beauty of the virginal grace and the excellence of the virtue, and wishing to test nothing further, but having received the confession of faith from her.

XX.

solely as regards the nature, [the Godhead] is united; but as regards the hypostases, ^A that the Son alone was conjoined to his own flesh. But again, it is not as if the Son alone assumes the flesh hypostatically, that he alone acts in carrying out the assumption, but he does so with the good pleasure of the Father and the cooperation of the Spirit; and thus the Trinity is again made known to me as united, and the one God is gathered ^B together before being divided.

XXI. Moreover, it is of the most necessary things to know, and I think it is one of the things that most holds together the mystery of the Economy, that not even for a moment of time did the flesh, or a man, exist first, and then afterwards become the flesh or man of the Word of God, so that by confessing that ^C both natures existed beforehand in this way, we might be led into a double hypostasis from a double and separately pre-existing nature for each; but the flesh existed together with the Word, and the Word simultaneously with the flesh, and God with man, although he pre-existed as Word and God; for the hypostasis of the Godhead pre-exists before that which is coming to be, namely, the humanity. For as the Word moves the nature so that this new creature may arise, he moves it ^D indeed creatively, but not in a seminal way, as someone before us also said; yet the nature consists around the Word, whole to whole, both sensible and rational, passible and intellectual; and thus the hypostasis came forth, composite indeed, but not double; and the nature is double indeed, but not composite; for both remain unconfused. And indeed, what will Christ be, if he is neither purely a man nor is purely God, but [is] joined together from both, and is outside of both? Or what will he be willing and doing at all, if he wills [E] and acts in neither a human nor a divine way, but in some other composite manner? Or will these things be like the mythical creatures, if indeed those too exist, and are not merely in conceptions, just as we hear and believe?

XXII. But these things are perhaps of another discourse and time, and [belong] not so much to a solemnity of thanksgiving as to one of struggle. But now I wish to admire many things at once, and to rejoice, and to shudder, and already to offer thanksgiving as well. [F] But I do not know to which I should be more inclined: to the wonder or to the shuddering, to the joy or to the gratitude; and of the wonder, which part I should rather [marvel at]: how God becomes man, or how man becomes God; and how the whole God and the Son alone [is there], or how he is whole in the Father's bosom and whole in the mother's womb; and how the Word is thickened from the Word, or how the density comes together with the Word; or how, to say the final thing, a virgin gives birth, or a virgin receives the conception, and after the conception is preserved a virgin.

^A How many and how great are the miracles of this mystery to me, and likewise unspeakable and likewise unknown! For all things, whatever I am, God becomes later for my sake; not only the invisible, but also the inconceivable becomes visible; the infinite becomes finite, the uncircumscribed becomes circumscribed, the immaterial becomes material, the intangible becomes tangible, the impassible becomes passible, the supersubstantial, the supratemporal, the immortal becomes created, ephemeral, and mortal. And not yet even the ineffable becomes effable, nor yet the incomprehensible, even if graspable by the flesh, becomes comprehended by the miracle of the incarnation. But if it is necessary to say something even more daring, He becomes more incomprehensible, in as much as to the incomprehensibility that characterizes His nature, He adds that which arises from the mystery of the assumed flesh; while He does not merely connect divinity to humanity, but connects it indivisibly, and mingles it without confusion; nor does He mingle the natures in this way, or connect them only, but also the operations and the wills. And so, that it did not please Him to be born under the Word just as He was born under time, even in this very thing grace is revealed: since both the grace and the manner of the grace surpass every faculty of speech.

^B

XXIII. Concerning the Miracle of the Virgin

^A And if it was not merely to have the fire burn her, as occurred to the three youths of old, but to have her consumed by the fire of God Himself, and not for a brief time and externally, as with the bush of old, but internally and for such a duration of time; and, again, that it did not give passage in the customary way, as the Red Sea did for the Israelites, but also provided flesh to Him who was coming forth from her; and that, furthermore, it was not written simply like the tablets of the Law, inscribed by the finger of God, but the Word Himself had the same substance with her, and He took into His own hypostasis that which He assumed from her; these, I say, to what other portents can they be compared?

XXIV. That she should not only have conceived as a virgin, and remained with child, but also that, having brought forth, she should have preserved her virginity—does this not reveal to us a twofold mystery concerning the miracle in the Virgin alone? And it appears greater—if one may say that anything is greater—than what preceded it. For that the Word, not yet clothed in a corporeal mass, should enter, in an unspeakable and yet undisturbed manner, the virginal gates, and take on flesh, this is indeed marvelous and not to be grasped in any way. For who could grasp it? Yet it is not as wonderful as this: that, having come forth with the entire density and the assumption of the body, He should have left the gate sealed, just as if He had not passed through it at all. ^B

XXV. And to what end should I search out the sea of this miracle? For this was seen as such a miracle by the ancients of old, so that the prophets viewing it from afar were ever struck with amazement; they did not merely proclaim it everywhere, but they traced it out with certain symbols and shadows, if by chance, as if with somewhat obscure colors, they might manage in some way to sketch the greatness of the matter. Having been taught by these, I also have learned, by comparing them to those things above which are in themselves incomparable. For the distance between these things and the single miracle of the Virgin is as great as the distance between a type and the truth, between a shadow and a body, and between a dream and the reality. ^C For all those things were types of her, and all men consider and call her by these names: as the sea dividing and again coming together; as the gate being traversed and yet remaining closed; as the furnace being bedewed and yet burning; as the bush being fired, but not consumed; as the cloud of the day and at once the messenger of the straight path; ^D as the pillar of fire, not only, I believe, bearing the divine fire, but also protecting the divine and new people against the spiritual Pharaoh; as the rock pouring forth honey, that is the Word; as the rod putting forth a flower, the fragrance and glory of the race; as the earth remaining what it was, and being found full of divine nourishment; as the manna, the bread that was not cultivated, bearing that which neither plowing nor sowing had produced; as the ark never touched, the garden inviolable, the lamp never extinguished, the temple unapproachable, the mountain not hewn and overgrown with virtues, the tablet written by God, the urn containing God, the table upon which is the bread of life, the couch on which He who is mighty rested, the ladder by which God indeed descends and man ascends, beginning from the things of earth and reaching even to those of heaven.

XXVI. Such things and even more...

are the miracles in the Virgin, or rather the images of the miracles. And because of this, I am moved to marvel at her who conceived; yet it is not permitted that I should not, by my speech, insult the miracle itself. But to marvel at Him who was conceived, in so far as one cannot find [words], is impossible; yet to shudder rather than to marvel is necessary. But to reach out, rather than to shudder and marvel, is fitting—it is beyond all comparison. Thus, to me, the mysteries of the feast are many, and from many quarters, and of equal weight. But having thus pointed out and partaken of this much of the miracle, I take my leave.

XXVII. ^B I shudder to find and receive God as a participant of my nature, and to be nourished by God, as I eat His body and drink His blood; lest I be burned up even more now, not being pure, by touching the Pure, and by holding these fearful things common through my communion, and by considering and seeing God bestowing upon me a second and such a great benefit—greater, indeed, by far, both in order and in power than the former, in as much as then He shared with me His image, but now His own essence. I fear lest I should be even more ungrateful than before regarding this, the last and first of all benefits and unions; and lest I insult not only the image, but also the archetype—even if I should insult, God by no means suffers insult. I shudder also, as I expect Him, the Lawgiver, to be judged more strictly than before, He who not only legislates with words, but also demonstrates with deeds, and is compared with us who are subject to the laws.

XXVIII. ^C And I rejoice for all other things as well; for how could I not? Since I am not only liberated from punishment, but also am being deified; not only being led up from the earth, but also being brought into Eden, or rather lifted up into the heavens themselves; not only being redeemed from the enemy, but also being clung to the King; at once being ransomed from all sin, and at once being filled with the whole Trinity; not only being freed from enmity, but also receiving in exchange the only-begotten Word; not only receiving Him as a victim sacrificed for my sake, but also being sacrificed and eaten by me.

XXIX. I rejoice, then, because of these things and things even more than these. And I rejoice no less, if not even more, on account of the occasion or the security of these very things, and because the daughter of my own race has been the mediator of so many and such great goods; and yet again, that she who brought about our return when we were wandering, has been called another reconciler to Him who had been reconciled, after a second and implacable enmity; and a remedy after a second and complete despair, and a recall—

after the falling away of such and so great good things; ^A and a new formation and a resurrection after a second crushing and a second death, much deeper and more difficult to reverse.

XXX. But the discourse acts rightly in also making mention of the new formation and the resurrection. For already the most charming joy of this day has been recalled to our minds, and not only the manner, but also the time is altogether consonant with the time of grace. For now the heaven and the earth, and the magnitude and beauty of this whole universe are being created with a new harmony and wisdom. Today human being is formed by the hand of God and to the image of God; and again today he is refashioned by a new work, by the flesh and substance of God, by the Word and arm of the Father, but by the breath which is the Spirit. Today, furthermore, my God and Master and Man rises from the memorial; and at the same time Adam rises from the sepulcher, and the whole of the human race rises from its fall; and Hell is despoiled of its ancient wealth and is locked; and conversely, the heavens are opened and are filled with our lump. And furthermore—to add that final thing, the most delightful and at the same time most terrifying, and for the sake of which all our affairs are ordered and stand firm even against all enemies, just as ancient and excellent tradition and reason confirms—on this same day the common and terrifying King and God and Judge ^B of all shall come, and every creature shall depart either partaking of divinity or destined for the fire; and the worlds shall be one world, and the kingdom shall be one, and the tyranny shall be removed from the midst; and the Queen shall sit at the right hand of the King, ^C shining with beauty and clothed in her dowry, indeed covered all over with the graces of the Trinity; and she shall show the whole multitude of those who have obtained salvation through her, adorned with varying merit and status, attached to the new grace that has been created.

XXXI. Thus, not without reason did the discourse in its very beginning call this solemnity the beginning of joy, and the middle, and the end; and thus, it does not only appear more stupendous and magnificent than the other festivals, but is in truth also most delightful and worthy of the greatest reverence: the former on account of the wondrous excellence of the mystery and the miracle; the latter on account of the brightness of the light shining from every side. And, that I may utter something still more worthy of admiration, it alone ^D of all others is ancient and at the same time most eternal, concurrent with the creation, and co-eternal with the regeneration.

^A For it has no end from that point on, since it began from that day, and is believed to exist and to be together with those things that are eternal, being itself eternal.

XXXII. But since the discourse has outlined only a few things, and those but briefly, regarding the solemnity, let us seek out what remains: to whom shall we offer these hymns of gratitude for all these things, or to whom first? To the Father and Spouse and Son and God? Or to the handmaid and bride and daughter and mother? Especially since I see the whole of nature and the entire creation striving in their gratitude, and thus this festival has come to us as the most beautiful and sweetest among all others. For now the entire universe adorns itself like a new bridal chamber for the common bride, and pours out a common beauty upon all visible things, and the world is made new. ^B

XXXIII. For even the heaven from above, from which the ornamentation of the world [is derived], has cast off the winter cloud like a mournful garment, and has changed its color into a new mixture of gold and purple; and the ether is not threatening with fearsome storms, but shines very beautifully, and glitters with sweet light; and the moon is renewed, and as it receives the new light of the beautiful spouse himself, it is more brilliant and more abundant, and sends forth the night with a greater and more radiant torch, and pours light upon all creation; and the stars, which until now were for the most part hidden, are seen as more numerous, and greater, and sweeter, and brighter; and the day-star [is] greater in size, and more beautiful in appearance, and higher in altitude, and sweeter to look upon, and more pleasant to approach. Now the day abounds with light, and adorns the choir for her who gives birth to the sun; and the night yields to the Lady, who bears in her womb that first and creative and beautiful light. ^C Now also the air is milder and at the same time more limpid, and the sea, as far as it extends, is a sea of tranquility and delights, and the whole world—the earth, that is to say, which was formerly barren—is now adorned with a wealth of flowers, and grows green on all sides, and delights in every way with the fragrance of meadows, the singing of birds, the leafy crowns of plants, the pleasant aspect of inanimate things, and the leaping of living creatures. Now also the weather is peaceful, and the elements are suitably tempered, and the winds blow softly, and the zephyrs breathe sweetly, and the waters flow placidly, and the fountains pour forth cold and limpid springs, and the streams murmur gently. Now the whole of nature brings forth its offspring as a gift to the bride; now every procreation of winged creatures, and of swimming creatures, and of terrestrial creatures—some offspring come forth into the light, others are anticipated, others are nurtured, others, which were still hidden a little while ago, manifest themselves: some appear as from bridal chambers over the mountains, others break forth from the crevices as if from tombs, others rejoice in the wedding or in the birth, and absolutely all things altogether celebrate a common festival and sing in a melodious voice, not, it seems to me, merely of the creation of all things (for at this time of year all things were created), but also of this regeneration of our nature.

^A XXXIV. Thus indeed does the whole of nature and the entire creation address her who was addressed from on high; and it contributes together with her who carries Him who carries all things. But what shall we do? Shall we appear alone as those who have no part, as unsociable and ungrateful? Or what shall we also speak, and what shall we contribute? Shall we receive grace rather than bestow it? We shall, of course, speak and we shall contribute; but what more than this very word, which we have already contributed, or rather, which we have brought forth in anticipation of the Word of the Mother? For this, too, we report back to her along with the other blessings, both those we now possess and those we shall possess. Therefore, bringing our words to an end, we shall speak and at once sanctify our soul, voice, mouth, and discourse from the memory of her. ^B

XXXV. Hail, Maiden, Mother of the Word, first of the Word that is according to our nature, and later also of the Word that is above our nature. For nothing has appeared that was more wise than you, both before the Word and in the Word, and consequently nothing more fitting; and thus you have become the remedy for Eve, the most wise for the most simple. And this is testified to by the Word Himself, who chose you and dwelt within you; and it is also testified to by your conduct before the event, in that you were neither carried away by the words of the archangel, even when they were such as they were, nor were you puffed up by the ineffable mysteries that followed thereafter; but you appeared equally steadfast both before the conception and after the conception. And why should I even mention a knowledge of pleasure, which, as a virgin, you did not possess; or rather, it was not merely experience that you did not have, but not even the desire for it? So strong was the judgment of your mind, even in that tender, beautiful, and youthful body. ^C

XXXVI. Hail, you who are the union and commingling of things that are unmixed and distinct, and both one and the other for both. You are a form for Him who has no form, a measure for Him who knows no measure of time, a bosom for the Infinite, a throne for the Uncontainable. You are higher than the Thrones, wiser than the Cherubim, more flaming than the Seraphim. Among those, some bear Him who bears all things on His shoulders, to others He grants only a small amount of knowledge, and to others He provides a flame that is hidden and not given in its entirety; but to you He gives Him in your inward parts, and on your knees, providing Him—the first and whole ray, the whole Word—to be kissed by your heart while you carry Him, and by your lips when you bring Him forth. Hail, more terrible than the Powers, more powerful than the Virtues, more dominant than the Dominations, more princely than the Principalities, swifter than the Archangels, ^D more abundant than all the angels together; you alone possess all energy and all virtues, the whole of all the heavenly ranks together, with a superlative greatness and even better things. Hail, Lady of every rank and name, not only that which is named now, but also that which shall be in the future; for I am persuaded that there are certain other powers there, indescribable and unknown to us, and I trust him who was ineffably caught up and who heard things more ineffable (2 Cor. xii, 4).

^A XXXVII. Ave, whose praises not even the celestials themselves can adequately pursue in thought or express in words. Ave, a prodigy which neither the Seraphim can celebrate according to its worth, nor the Cherubim can behold in its entirety, nor any rank of the celestial orders, whether higher or lower, can fully fathom. Ave, you who were conceived in joy, carried in the womb in joy, and brought forth into the light in joy; and again, you who in joy conceived, carried in the womb, and gave birth to the Joy that transcends all discourse and thought—in a word, the joy of all earthly and heavenly things, the glory of our race, the adornment of the heavens, the ornament of both worlds.

^B XXXVIII. Ave, the resolution of grief, the destruction of enmity, the redemption of captivity, the deification of mortals, and the incarnation of God. Ave, the driving away of distress, the reconciliation of sinners, the security of those who stand, the restoration of those who fall, the ardent zeal of those who strive, the stirring of the slothful, the strength of the healthy, the salvation of the sick. Ave, the fount and guide of virtues, the flower and root of virginity—the former, because you appeared, the latter, because you brought it into the light. And now, indeed, because of you and through you, plants of this kind flourish everywhere: to the ascetics, temperance; to the athletes, fortitude; to the wealthy, pity; to the poor, courage; to the high, humility; to the lowly, greatness of soul; to the mourning, consolation; and to the rejoicing, moderation. For you are not only the teacher of both these virtues, but also their exemplar: of the former, when the sword of sorrow passed through your own soul (Luke ii, 35), and of the latter, when your speech uttered that word full of gladness.

^C XXXIX. Ave, the house of divine graces, the royal bridal chamber of the Trinity, in which are stored the treasures of all good things: the riches of wisdom, the eminence of virtue, counsel, understanding, the gifts of tongues, the mastery of the scepter, the distribution of wealth, the sublimity of honors, manifold knowledge, happy unions, joyful offspring, the clarity of the voice, the apt disposition of the limbs, health, beauty, and the strength of the powers. And since these lighter and merely bodily things, being of less importance, should be left aside, I will add those things that are of the Spirit: the wellsprings of remedies, the showers of tears, pure prayers, intimate familiarity with God, the knowledge of the sacred Scriptures, the streams of doctrine, foresight and perspicacity, and the discernment of spirits as well as of deeds. And to sum it all up, ave, Mistress of all good things and Mistress of both orders, who bestowest all things upon all, as and when and in such quantity and quality as you will.

^D XL. These things in your praise, I—a miserable man, and all yours indeed on account of the Word and every other grace and hope, though not all yours on account of the manner of my life—these, I say, a few of those things which you have bestowed upon me, for a long time repressed in silence due to great dread, but suddenly bursting forth due to the vehemence of love, and overcome by the greater and better motive, for the glory of your

Son, our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, to whom belongs glory and power, with His all-holy Father and His life-giving and holy Spirit, now and always and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

JOANNES GEOMETRA THE PROTOTHRONOS: ON THE APPLE

Milk is white, and honey is yellow; but Homer alone knows to call the fruit of the fig tree sweet; yet he does not dare to call even this "glorious" (aglaon). This attribute he reserves only for the apple, and he says somewhere in his poems that the apple trees are "glorious-fruited." And he does not decorate it only with this name, but also with its order. For in expressing the others simply—the pear trees and the pomegranate trees—he sets only three with their epithets; but having placed the apple tree before these, he puts below the fig tree, and thirdly he places the olive tree. And he says: "glorious-fruited apple trees, and sweet fig trees, and abundant olive trees." And the fact that is even greater is that he gives this [attribute] as an end to the first of the verses, considering it necessary that there be neither a head better than those nor a greater charm for the verse, so that [the apple] may be both the beginning and the end of the beautiful things, and indeed the middle point as well. It is the middle of the whole, the beginning of the first, and the end for the verse. And he joins these together, and adorns those; but for the verse he keeps the greater charm at the end. For he does indeed place the olive trees at the end, but he witnesses nothing of flavor regarding them; and they are only at the very end, and not in the same way as these. I think, therefore, that I and Homer must explain the reasons why both of us honor the apple in such a way: he, in saying these things about it, and I, in sending these things according to his and so often. Now, the Greeks, I know not by what thought, dedicated the other fruits—some to Aphrodite, others to Dionysus,

^A and they say they were assigned to other bastard gods; but alone, the palm and the laurel, they assign to that god who is, in their view, wise and beautiful, and altogether and above all things excellent—the musician, the archer, the physician, and the prophet Apollo, whom they say is the same as the Sun. And as to the most beautiful and most useful, they assign that which is most beautiful and useful. Thus, from the beginning, the matter was given over to beauty, wisdom, and utility; and it seemed beautiful to behold as well as useful to eat, and useful to employ, and suitable for the wise to receive. But these tales, if it seems good, we shall let pass. Whatever things can be seen and spoken of, however, are not matters of reproach. For, first of all, the plant is nourished everywhere on earth; and it is not like the rest of the trees, some of which delight in cultivation, while others love the mountains, and others have their home by the sea; but this alone grows on the mountain peaks, is nourished by cultivation, and loves to flourish beside the sea. ^B And while it is so victorious in every place, it is no less victorious in its flourishing everywhere, such that in some places there is nothing like it. For it is not as with the others, whose mountain varieties are the same to look upon, being mountain-born and terribly wild, and for the most part also fruitless. Among the cultivated ones, some have very little fruit and trunks that are more thorny, differing from those on the peaks only in location; others perhaps are not ignoble in fruit, but are otherwise weak and bloom for only a short time. But this tree is so strong and long-lived among the cultivated ones that it is matched by very few of the wild and fruitless ones. And yet, among the wild ones, it is tender, smooth, well-flowering, and fruitful, as is no other of those growing in porticoes, like beautiful maidens well-adorned within their chambers. Furthermore, the others often transgress the seasons; some come forth in spring, as does the palm itself; many also shoot forth in winter. But this tree, even in these matters, keeps the law and shows wisdom; for it comes forth for the greater part of the summer, and displays the most beautiful of its fruits in the most beautiful of the seasons; in winter, it casts off its beauty and follows the nature and order of the season, so that if one must say something surprising, but more true, one might justly call this alone "timely" (horaion), not only because of the season but also because of the fruit; while the others are untimely, thus mistaking the order and ignoring the season. It is not, to be sure, merely that it appears at the right season, just as it would be timely to be preserved during the season, but by the very fact that it persists throughout the whole year, it is shown to be better than the seasons, better than its name, and better than all the rest of the fruits together; conquering the pleasant ones with its durability, and the more durable ones with its pleasantness; or rather, if one must tell the truth, surpassing the pleasant with its pleasantness and the durable with its durability. The fig is a very pleasant thing; but if its honey is drawn out by heat, and its beauty is taken away by the sun, then it is stripped of its charm and pleasure at once, and becomes foully wrinkled, and you will find nothing save for the sight; for as soon as it appeared, the beauty of the tree vanished much faster than the blossom; thus also these things of the...

fig tree are surpassed ^A by others, in beauty, in scent, and in size; it delights in such places, flourishes in such seasons, and endures for such a time as that which it makes for its own growth. For it is neither raised toward the very heaven, and thus retreats from men as much as possible, nor is it, on the other hand, entirely pressed to the earth, so as to be despised—like most trees—for its ready accessibility, or to be cast out and trampled underfoot like a bush; rather, it preserves moderation in these things, and as though it possessed all men as lovers, it proceeds to a moderate height, and by remaining near, it gratifies those who love it. Yet, so that there may not be satiety of love, it rises a little from the ground, and along with its growth it makes manifest its beauty; and by setting a higher value on beauty with its maturity, it displays its dignity from both. Thus, then, this plant, avoiding equally both the lowly and the lofty, neither removes itself from the view of the beholders, nor causes satiety in their love; but neither does it harm itself; for it does not reach such a height that a fierce wind might rush in, break it down, overturn it, and allow such beauty to be trampled; for indeed not even Homer would have lamented the matter worthily, though he makes lamentations over plants, lamenting the pine, and the oak, and crying out over the poplar, and uttering a pitiable cry over the olive tree. Avoiding, therefore, this calamity, the plant ^B produces its fruit in the same manner. For, in the first place, it does not, like the palm, spread foliage only upon its crest, but it puts forth branches and foliage from every part, attracting and delighting lovers from every side. Then, of its fruits, one is white, one pale, one red, one purple, and another is of a rust color. It bears different fruits from different plants, yet the apple tree bears them all; if you delight in the white, you walk toward this one; if you desire the red, you go to that one; if you love both, you visit the other; but if you seek all at once, you go to the one that bears the purple fruits. It is white in some parts, red in others; in some quite fresh, in others already ripe; and some it stains with a purple hue; it is as white as milk, yet it reddens like a rose; and it is variegated in different ways—one is entirely so, another not entirely; one is less, another more. If you see the red, you would think the tree entirely ignorant of the white; and if you cast your eyes upon this first one, you would say there is no red in the fruit; but this part will appear as blood, and that part as snow. The apple is a rose to the sight, a perfume to the smell, and to the taste something else—or rather, a delicious fruit in itself; it so far surpasses all things in delight, and others are compared to it all the more. If anyone wishes to praise the taste of anything, he will say it is either an apple or honey; and these things, therefore, persuaded Homer to call the fruit of the apple tree entirely ^C glorious. If, however, it is necessary to make mention of a fable, and it is not unpleasant to apply a subject of play and delight to a man who has himself often danced with the Muses—especially when wisdom adorns the fable—they say that there was a maiden formerly who was beautiful and maidenly. And many were the lovers of her beauty, and longing for her; but wisdom… ^D

world are but a brief display, and in truth, they are mere specters. Truly, if we speak of the apple tree, it is as if—to mention a myth—there were once a beautiful maiden, a virgin. Many were her suitors and lovers. Since she was modest and did not cheapen her beauty, she only made her lovers more desperate. For a time they loved, like suitors, competing with one another; but then, inflamed by wine, they slaughtered each other like rivals. The maiden intervenes, pitying the dead, while ashamed before the living, and weeping for herself; so she becomes, by her vow, a beautiful tree, as she was beautiful; white, as she was fair; and blushing as she was modest. Such is the myth. But if we ought to pursue philosophy, rather than myths—both us and you, who are engaged in the love of contemplation—then those skilled in these matters say that among all shapes, the spherical is the most beautiful; and among solids that have equal surfaces, that one is the greatest, just as for planar figures, the circular is. It seems that this universe itself preserves that very shape. ^B The apple tree, therefore, shares this along with other things. Indeed, no other fruit of the trees is so gracefully turned into a sphere as the fruit of this tree; its nature is thus turned, and its surface is stretched out, and the apple provides a representation of the shape of the universe. What need is there to recount the properties of the produce? How to the healthy it is a luxury and a sweet food; to the sick, a wholesome and nutritious nourishment; and whereas the fig in dreams is of ill omen, the apple is of good omen in such things, for it promises glory and a crown. But it is this that also bestows the crown at the Pythian games; and the athlete is present, having trained throughout the year, having received many crowns of strenuous exercise, and expecting more. And if it were necessary to apply one’s mind, so that one might depart taking the apple and the glory associated with the apple, ^C there would be many other things to say about the apple, if time permitted, and I were not forced to write these things hastily and in passing.

FIVE HYMNS OF JOANNES GEOMETRA TO THE MOST HOLY THEOTOKOS

Rejoice, O joy, O grace, ^D

^A they say that she was once a beautiful virgin; and because of her beauty, many were her lovers and suitors. But she, being wise and not surrendering her bloom, made them desire her even more, and they contended with one another. Then, as I mentioned, they kill one another as rivals. The virgin appears, and feels compassion for those who have perished, and she feels shame for the living; she weeps for herself, and becomes a sprout of prayer, just as she is white—since she is white—blushing as she puts forth. Such is the myth; and it behooves us not to speak fabulously, but to attend to love and contemplation. They say that of those things which are excellent ^B in shapes, the sphere is the most beautiful element among solids, just as the circle is among planes; and the universe itself seems to possess this form. It has, therefore, after the others, this apple—and nothing among the fruits of other trees is shaped into a sphere, but this one is finished by its nature, and it forms its surface—and as a shape, the apple is an image of the whole. And what need is there to recount the activities of the plant; and as it is food for the healthy and nutritious, and as a fig is not to be seen in dreams? An apple, however, is a herald of good news, and heralds a crown—for it promises success, and the athlete ^C is present, having trained for a year, and having received a goodly reward, and expecting more. Even if it were necessary to sacrifice, and [to train] the soul so that, having received the glory of the apple together with the apple, one might depart, having received many [rewards] and expecting more. If I had sufficient time, I would have been able to speak of these things and other things concerning the apple, but I am compelled to write these things hastily and in a summary fashion.

THE HYMNS OF JOHN GEOMETRES

FIVE HYMNS TO THE MOST HOLY THEOTOKOS

OF JOHN GEOMETRES

FIVE HYMNS TO THE MOST HOLY MOTHER OF GOD

ADMONITIO.

In these Hymns, wherein John Geometres has illuminated his own name by celebrating the praises of the Virgin, they perpetually pray for the word "Hail" (Χαῖρε), by which they seek joy, grace, salvation, and all those good and joyful things. Moreover, in such alliterations, the Latin [rendering] hardly, if indeed at all, is able to follow the charm of the Greeks. However, because some stains and lacunae occur in the Greek codex (which is the only one we have thus far been able to use), being partly marred by the error of the scribe and partly worn away by age, and since they are mutilated and depraved in several places, the interpreter, as he stands in doubt, offers his own medicinal conjectures.

HYMN I

^C Rejoice, you who alone contain the infinite in your bosom, Wisdom in a manger, and the Giver of wealth in swaddling clothes. Rejoice, you who nurtured Him who sustains all; may your breast, as a flowing spring, nourish the One of the Trinity. Rejoice, shell of the sea, having brought forth the Son as a pearl, out of divine lightning and purple rays. Rejoice, you who alone giving birth, have the royal honor of the pole and of the heavenly minds, second to the Trinity. Rejoice for me, o queen, all-merciful and full of grace; accept a hymn from our polluted mouths.

HYMN II.

Rejoice for me, o Queen, offspring of a royal lineage, offspring of priests, offspring of seers. Rejoice for me, o Queen, from a most pure root you have sprung as a triple shoot of graces from a triple [source]. Rejoice for me, o Queen, the Trinity is your root and beginning; wherefore, thrice-blessed, you gave birth to one of the Trinity. Rejoice, utterance of ancestors, grace of old, sweet-speaking song; from your most divine self is the glory of all the blessed. Rejoice, secret counsel of the Wisdom of the Father, praise of all mouths, of those divine and hidden. Rejoice, you at whom the glorious choir of heaven stands in awe, and whom the darkened multitudes of demons dread. Rejoice, grace of former, ^D of thousand-fold, and of great vows, having loosed the disgraces and the original sin of the parents. Rejoice, in the flourishing and tender garden of Paradise, a shoot first planted by the blood of the ancients.

Hail, you who for the Mother open the womb, for men the heaven, and for those on earth the path of heavenly virtue. Hail, you who have shown to those who walk on high a new way, treaded with grace by those on earth. Rejoice, gift of God, late for the swift, but from your parents and before your birth, a gift to the High-Ruler. Hail, you who with maiden stars, like the Moon, are a guide crawling to a house as if to heaven. Rejoice, O body nourished from on high by heavenly dews, by angelic hands, for the chambers of the Master. Rejoice, enterer of the inaccessible, and alone the seeker of the inner sanctums, as a bride of the bridegroom of the hidden halls. Hail, pure in form from birth, pure in body, a Virgin from the heart, a Virgin from the air. Hail, flower intact and fragrant on both sides, with visible beauties and with hidden beauties. Rejoice, lily and rosy calyx and dewy anemone, pure narcissus, whiter than snow. Rejoice, sweet sprout of everlasting life; you are truly the only unfading one among mortals in the beauty of the more divine. Rejoice, and another fiery sprout, golden-flowered one, [bringing together] all the flowers of mortals and of thorns. Hail, grace of the purple hyacinth, on whose leaves are the letters of freedom, and no myth of death. Hail, sprout of the high-maned laurel, which wards off not the flash of lightning, but the flame of demons. Rejoice, [O Virgin] not fleeing from the heavenly [God], descending to earth the figments of demons. Rejoice, and from the earth again swift-running to the light, coming toward the longing of the solar Bridegroom.

^A Rejoice, beautiful Mother, ever pregnant with the pure Word: Mother of the virtues that beget souls. Rejoice, you who open your watchful eyes like the moon, so that you may behold the sun and the Lord of the sun. Rejoice, you who, with the high-running efforts of virtue, like the moon, hasten to follow the Sun. Rejoice, you who, from the all-radiant Son, just as the moon receives light from the sun, the Father, draw down the light. Rejoice, herald of the Trinity, great wonder, who set up the bridal chamber of the most inward beauty. Rejoice, whom the only One loved, the One who is only lovely, He who is the Father of self-begotten beauty. Rejoice, first; rejoice, only one; thus, "Rejoice" was the first word that the trembling of the heavenly host uttered to you. Rejoice, maiden, great wonder, and indescribable, and not to be heard; you give birth to God—who has heard of this among all? Rejoice, by the Word, you give birth to the immortal Word, unstained, incorrupt, holy; before you, He was without a mother, and without a father He proceeded from Him. Rejoice, begetter of the begetter of time, bosom of the infinite, Mother of the eternally begotten Father, infinite in your childbearing. Rejoice, heaven illuminating men, you who hold the Sun who took flesh from you, the ever-manifest disc. Rejoice, heaven endowed with a thousand eyes, regarding other stars around the great Sun, a multitude of graces. Rejoice, heaven ornamented with spheres, distinguished by seven golden zones, with the spirits of wisdom. Rejoice, heaven that contains the firmament, the salt sea, the air, the earth, and an immense world, which is the summit of the lower. Rejoice, you who hold within you the King to whom the stars are subject, whom you bear in a cloud, in purple blood. ^B Rejoice, thrice-radiant heaven, extending the ether everywhere, boundless, bright, and holding no darkness. Rejoice, heaven exulting and shaking with no winds, free from our worldly passions. Rejoice, heaven of many colors like the rays of the iris, bearing the flowering forms of the virtues. Rejoice, heaven full of mind, proclaiming the glory of the great God to maiden arms bearing a child. Rejoice, heaven dreadful, and to heavenly minds, unutterable to hymn-singers, impassable to the high-soaring. Rejoice, heaven that drips sacred and ample streams, which make the world pure, and in which every race rejoices. Rejoice, throne above the burning, all-holy thrones, yourself poured forth with light, the light-begetting beacon. Rejoice, above speech, who by the Word give birth to the Word, whom the world honors, in whom the race delights. Rejoice, you who, though Word, bring forth the new Word of both, and the reason of both. Rejoice, O Queen, and through both worlds, you are worshipped as second to the Royal Trinity. ^C Rejoice, my pride, my light, my wealth, spirit, word, the mark of both my ever-flourishing hope. Rejoice, O Queen, all-merciful, gracious; accept the hymn from our filthy mouths.

HYMN III

rejoice, Maiden, great song, and to heavenly minds far exceeding mind and the human word.

^A Rejoice, O Maiden, a sight to behold—fearful, fiery, entirely immaterial, sweet and yet terrible, and in whole not to be looked upon. Rejoice, Maiden, shining among the myriad-eyed stars like the moon with excessive light. Rejoice, Maiden, obscuring the light of the seraphim, just as the sun—itself a star, newborn—obscures the stars. Rejoice, Maiden, boast of nature, a formed image that has received all the craftsmanship of the Master Craftsman. Rejoice, having been fashioned from the very beginning, even from the impure, as a living, self-perfect archetype of primal virtues. Rejoice, having renounced even our [human] temperament, and having made of the earthly a citizen of the virtues. Rejoice, a body fashioned from on high from the radiant Olympus, in no way drawn down by the day's wickedness. Rejoice, a body joined and pure on both sides, from heavenly beauty and from earthly beauty. Rejoice, a body as a fiery chariot, having hidden another sun, the Master of the sun, ever-existent. Rejoice, Grace, Mother of Wisdom, of light, of the Word, of might; Mother of your own Father, and daughter of your own Son. ^B Rejoice, fresh delight of the Highest God, an altar-vehicle, when the sun ran toward our sunset. Rejoice, pregnant with the Word who is self-begotten, with the self-born light, with the primal nature. Rejoice, having contained God, becoming in turn mortal for the sake of God; rejoice, having been purified of the grievous density [of the flesh]. Rejoice, having wiped away all the machinations of wickedness, like a dewy sponge of our nature. Rejoice, having turned aside and plunged into the abyss the spirit of the demonic lineage, wild and man-slaying. Rejoice, having greeted and shown to all, alone, the ministers of the heavenly nature to the earthly. Rejoice, having mingled the heaven with the earth, life with fate, the heavenly with the earthly, and the earthly with the heavenly. Rejoice, all-ruling, nature-city-builder, nature-begetter of the human race, of the visible creation. Rejoice, a throne above the thrones, upon which is not borne a God [on the shoulders], but one within secret recesses. Rejoice, beauty of soul worthy of the Highest Ruler; Virgin, rejoice, Maiden, having delighted the Trinity. Rejoice, having made God incarnate as man, and in turn again, rejoice, having made human [nature] divine from your own blood. ^C Rejoice, all-queen, and through both worlds—to you the city is a throne, and you are the throne of the Place-less One. Rejoice, even a circumscribed palace of the Uncircumscribed, Mother of the All-begetter, nurse of the All-nourisher. Rejoice, house rich in infinite, blameless, spiritual graces of the wealth-bearing Trinity. Rejoice, also bestower of wealth, glorious, wealth-guardian, self-willed guardian of the Master's chambers. Rejoice, also bestower of wealth, all-radiant, sun-formed, self-moving gate of the Trinitarian glory. Rejoice with me, O Queen all-merciful, gracious; accept this praise from our defiled mouths.

HYMN III

Rejoice, O Maiden, great wonder, great succor to men. Rejoice, beginning of joy; rejoice, end of disgrace. Rejoice, Maiden, great song, and to heavenly minds ^D far exceeding mind and the human word.

HYMN IV

^A Rejoice with me, O Queen, grace of mortal virtues. Rejoice, grace of thinking minds; rejoice, grace of divine things. Rejoice, higher than the Cherubim, and more burning than them; rejoice. Rejoice, depth of the Seraphim, excelling in wisdom. Rejoice, spectacle to the Cherubim, difficult to behold, great rejoice; A wonder far exceeding the wisdom of the Seraphim. Rejoice, power stronger than the mighty, O great rejoice, Surpassing by far the power of the intelligent spirits. ^B Rejoice, O Sovereign of the lords, rejoice; Mistress of the heavenly things, as well as of all earthly. Rejoice, speed of minds, fleeting with rapid movements, Far outstripping, second only to the Divine. Rejoice, for mortals who are in acute, uncertain, And terrible fortunes, a most ready calling. Rejoice, pretext of mercy, inclining the bowels of the most compassionate God, Lest He pass judgment. Rejoice, relief for worthless mortals from the just wrath Of the Almighty Creator becoming indignant. ^C Rejoice, raising again the smitten creation, as if a servant Now falling to the ground. Rejoice, driving away also the demons of fierce nature From our soul and body openly. Rejoice, remedy for a thousand incurable evils, drawing Souls back again from Hades to the sun. Rejoice, turning away the soul-snatching angels, And quickly granting temporal life. Rejoice, lamenting on behalf of human sufferings, And receiving the tears of sinful dependents. ^D Rejoice, wiping away the books written ten thousand times by the demon, Like a dewy sponge of our wickedness. Rejoice, O Maid, preserving also for men, when they desire it, The virginal girdle for the virginal Trinity. Rejoice, providing offspring for both parents With the fruitful Spirit, this is offspring to the Trinity. Rejoice, a tower for ascetics, warding off the night's Specters of demons pretending to be light. Rejoice, and dissolving ten thousand other wiles By the counter-wisdom of diabolical wickedness. Rejoice, appearing also in the toils of contests, Bearing sweet light, as if consoling. Rejoice, and strength of the foreign, joy, glory, Sweeter than life, nearer than the spirit. Rejoice, for fighters in wars, quickly granting winning victory By a virginal nod. Rejoice, wall of the citizens, planting walls against Man-slaying city-destroyers, shattering their snares. Rejoice, answering the boldness of the joyless army, Sinking them all together, like a ship foundering. Rejoice, fellow-traveler for those sailing, survivor for those shipwrecked, Guide, harbor, whitest sails. Rejoice, fellow-traveler for those journeying, lamp for wanderers, Announcing the track, the darkness of paths. Rejoice, release of captives, recall in prisons, Warmth in torments, and joy in chains. Rejoice, and source of glorious manliness for men, Mistress of eloquence, mistress of mellifluousness.

^A Rejoice, you who resolve the disputes of litigants, and plugging the brimming streams of oratorical tongues, the labor of mouth and art. Rejoice, who stand by those who think right in courts of law, and appearing as light to all things which lie hidden. Rejoice, and leader of the army's leaders, rejoice, bringing all [thoughts] under subjection in secret. Rejoice, depth of the high wisdom of the Divine Wealth, bestowing it upon your servants whenever you wish, easily. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our songs, the grace is yours, O Virgin. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if you should take any delight in our song, it is a grace of gladness for you. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our struggles, the grace of valor is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our accounts, the grace of eloquence is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our crafts, the grace of craftsmanship is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our muses, the grace of harmony is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any grace in our emboldened efforts, the grace of a brave heart is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and if there be any understanding in our counsels, the grace of goodwill is yours. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and I shall cross the wild swell, ^B O Virgin, trusting in you, and [cross] the fiery furnaces. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and I shall destroy the wild tribes of demonic giants with your fiery power. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and I shall sweeten the bitter characters of tyrants with your oracles and your gentleness. Rejoice with me, O Queen, you who also make the body breathe again, having shown [the way] out of loathsome, grievous sufferings. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and save me masterfully from the myriads of darts of murderous Ares. Rejoice with me, O Queen, you are to me more precious than great treasures, a wealth boundless. Rejoice with me, O Queen, you are my glory, sun, strength, ^C Spirit, Word, life, valor, wisdom. Rejoice with me, O Queen, and the unassailable hope of both worlds, the ornament of both. Rejoice with me, O Queen, you are the advocate of the royal Trinity, if you will; and with the Trinity is the Word. Rejoice with me, O Queen, all-merciful, gracious, receive the praise from our sinful mouths.

Trimeters. The three hundreds sing of you, Mother, Virgin, who gave birth to one of the Three; you give birth to God complete and mortal, O Maiden. A perfect decad, and the greatest grace to you, the better meter being mingled with the worse. I call the six-measure [line] the better of the meter, and the curtailed one the worse, in two places. To God the better is owed, to man the second.

HYMN V, ALPHABETICAL

Let us sing of the God-child, God-like, the incorrupt bride, seedless, most holy, undefiled, queen-bearer, Queen, queen-born, queen-mother. Genitor-origin, God-born, joy-of-race-soil, God-giver, ransom-giver, dread-liberator, prayer-giver, God-in-us, well-laboring, joy-sprouting, race-savior, Life-bearer, God-deep, life-saver, life-giver, Light-appearing, God-sweet, gentle, gift-bringing.

God-charming, mind-charming, soul-charming, God-child, Violet-cheeked, brow-lovely, longing-inspiring. World-born, fruit-bearing, glorious World-queen, People-delighting, people-swarming, supplicant, people-queller, Myriad-god, myriad-world, myriad-shining, myriad-called. New-field-tilling, new-world-ordering, temple-founding, new-creating, Stranger-bearing, stranger-nurturing, stranger-bearing, stranger-woman/woman-of-strangers. Fortunate, wealth-working, aid-bringing, wealth-giver, All-ruling, all-mighty, all-godly, all-called. ^A Liberator, city-saving, nature-born, nature-ordering, Savior, light-generating, light-shining, venerable, Third-born, triple-queller, triple-shining, thrice-moon-bright. High-minded, high-throned, supreme, high-ruling, Light-bearing, light-formed, light-throwing, light-radiating. Gold-cloaked, graceful, gold-throned, grace-giver, Falsehood-destroying, soul-chaste, soul-saving, psalm-singing, Quickest, beautiful, timely, beauty-child.

EPIGRAMS IN TETRASTICH BY JOHN GEOMETRA, TITLED "PARADISE"

HYMN V OF JOHN GEOMETRA, composed in Greek heroic verses by an uncertain author from mere epithets, in the manner of the ancient hymns; in which also the order of the letters, at the beginnings of the verses and dictions, is observed: Latinely expressed more freely in prose (since it was not possible to render it gracefully or freely in strict meter) by the same translator, almost verbatim thus: Let us celebrate with praises the Mother of the Son of God, God-like, the integral Bride, who without seed brought forth, most chaste, most integral, the prince of one giving birth; the Queen, generated by the King, the King's mother; who gave birth to the progenitor of her own race, the Theotokos, the sprout recreating the human race. She who gave God, paid completely the price of redemption, lifted up grave misfortunes, and bestowed desired things. Conversed with by the Divine Spirit, happy in childbirth, rejoicing in beneficence, the liberator of the nations. She who brought forth life clearly divine, the conservatrix of life, which she also bestows. She who appears sweet and gentle, pleasant in appearance, bland, giving mild gifts; soothing God, exhilarating the mind, alluring with song, having God the Son; endowed with violet cheeks and eyes, and a preeminent mind, desired; born in the world, fruitful, most famous, Empress of the world; the joy and astonishment of the peoples, by whom she is called blessed, with simplicity and humility of soul. The ointment of God and the world, endowed with the sweetness of ointment, and called from myrrh; ^B a new heaven, a new world, an editress of the temple, a new creation. Brought forth in a new birth, bringing forth a new birth, the admirable woman. Happy and rich, work-performing happily, helper, giver of riches; all-powerful, having all forces in herself, parent to all, invoked by all; liberator, protection of cities, safeguard of her own race and the world; conservatrix, who brought forth a ray, shining like a lamp, venerable; parent of one from the Trinity, thrice blessed, illustrious with three lights, more beautiful than the thrice-moon. Capable of high mind, placed in a high seat, sublime, reigning in the heights; procreatress of light, adorned and cloaked in light, with splendid face; adorned in a golden peplum, and sitting on a golden throne, grace, and bestowing grace; adversary of lying, having a pure soul, procuring the salvation of souls, rejoicing in pious canticles. Most swift [to bring help to her own], beautiful, having a most beautiful Son.

EPIGRAMS IN TETRASTICH BY JOHN GEOMETRA, TITLED "PARADISE."

[HEADINGS]

TETRASTICH EPIGRAMS OF JOHN GEOMETRES TO WHICH HE GAVE THE TITLE PARADISE.

^A Let everyone, therefore, whose heart has been struck by passions, come hither, plucking the flowers of ambrosia.

II. That the smallest things are more easily forgiven. Repentance is most useful; for the Almighty, demanding interest even from the virtuous, completely remits their sins to sinners; you have the harlot and the prodigal as examples.

III. That the tongue is restrained only by the fear of God. The Creator placed bolts and fences, two walls, before the tongue, yet it passes through these. But if the fear of God should reach it, it will immediately pause, waiting quietly within its own boundaries.

IV. That gluttony is mischievous. The insatiable belly is like the vessel of the Danaids; the more you pour in, the more it flows out. If you cut down the portion, it settles; then it gladly keeps hold of even the smallest amount you give it.

V. That the mind is to be guarded, rather than the body. Seeing a snake appear, an old man recoiled, and someone said, "Do you flee, even though you are blessed?" But he said, "I have not fled from this, but rather I have fled from that snake of vainglory; for by standing, it galled me."

VI. That one must know oneself through one’s neighbor. A certain man, easily angered, changed his eyes and his appearance upon being provoked, and let down his hair. A man who saw this said, "If I were to become like him when angry, alas, how much laughter I would incur!"

VII. That the strength of negligence falls away. It is not possible to keep one’s heart unspotted in any other way, unless you restrain your throat and your mouth. As long as these two are wide open, a thief will never cease entering and carrying off what was hidden inside.

VIII. That one must be exercised in deeds rather than in words. A wise man, having written of the works of monks, omitted a few. The one who had ordered him to write was angry and rebuked him: "Why have you left these out?" But he cried out, "Hold! When you perform these works, then I will write the rest."

IX. That the ascetic life also depends on the mouth. Someone said to Arsenius: "You who taught, 'Sing of wrath,' do you ask these ignorant men what they might learn?" "But I," said the elder, "have not yet learned even the alpha from these ignorant ones."

X. That one should know oneself from one's neighbors (Part 2). Someone saw Arsenius sitting upon skins and said to him, "What was your work in the past?" "Pasturing," he said. "Therefore you are now much softer; for one must measure present things by the past."

XI. That there is more prayer at night. Hear of this labor of Arsenius too: for he was always accustomed [to pray] late...

until the Sabbath, having left the sun behind him. Until the chest was struck, then having stood apart ^B he would give himself over to the labors of the day. XII. That one must remain at home. No crustacean is homeless, nor does it abandon its country, nor does the breed of swimmers run past the shore. Yet the monk lingers far from his own nest. There are many snares and traps before the doors. XIII. That nothing of great importance is accomplished without daring. Someone wished to flee from the life of the world in a single day, but by saying this and that he held back, having let the [opportunity] go, and he even ran off lightly through the very edges of his tunic. For to the bold man even the pole is accessible. XIV. That poverty is pure among monks. A man came to Scete having renounced the most glorious things, and though giving away much wealth, he left behind a portion. And someone said: "You have lost your standing, friend, since it was delightful, and you have not trodden the easiest paths." XV. That harmful wealth is to be cast away. A man of moderate means ^C approached a rich man in his dwelling, who was troubled over his possessions. "If you do not lose these very quickly, my dear son," he said, "they will forestall you and easily destroy you." XVI. That each person should rather mourn his own. Friends stood by Theon as he was failing and mourned ^D him. But rebuking those who were weeping, he said: "For since you know how rapacious a beast Hades is, why do you shed such tears rather over the failings of others?" XVII. That one who is ill cannot heal others. The ancients cast out demons through faith. This faith remains, but its power has retreated into the clouds. Pityrion said: "He would easily drive away demons who first scatters them from himself." XVIII. That pity is a debt to the poor. If the poor agreed to veil their eyes, a rich man might desire to vie for poverty. But now that we pay out gold more pleasurably, is it not necessary to allow them a crumb of bread? XIX. That one must not act badly, and thus pray. A famine for lack of justice oppressed the city. The inhabitants begged Sisoes to pray that God might come ^A as an ally. He said: "For I myself did not even wish to remain here." XX. That in necessary things, the non-superfluous is exact. "I am unable to overcome these three things," said Apollo, "the life-giving sleep, and the lack of bread, and third, this garment which I wear; but to overcome even these again is a matter of greater helplessness for me."

XXI. That it is impossible to serve both God and Mammon.

XXII. That the tonsure is manifold.

XXIII. Proof of a man-pleaser.

XXIV. That it is not noble to withdraw from everyone.

XXV. That three things are to be observed.

XXVI. That an unseemly word is an indelible disgrace. ^B When a companion was rambling on, someone said: It is not so grievous to stumble with the foot as with the word. For if indeed there is a stumble from the foot, it would not be so great; But an evil word is not unmade even by death.

XXVIII. That those who live now are duller toward virtue.

XXIX. That the things in the sea (happen) also in the present life.

XXX. That there is a time for every thing.

The rich man, but now he views him from afar. For watchfulness always attends upon necessity. Know the time, said the son of Hyradius. ^A

XXXI. That one should always reach for greater things. It is an impossible thing for a man to grasp the whole world, But to abandon it, for him who wishes, is easy. But because we have taken the seed of pride from the beginning, We harvest, as is our custom, the fruit of sin. ^B

XXXII. That all things should be done for the edification of one’s neighbor. The monks were eating meat at their banquet. Then one said to the Pastor: "Why, O Shepherd, do you not eat?" "Because," he said, "I would have injured Those present; for if I, such as I am, were to eat such things, who would not be a glutton?"

XXXIII. Why wars today are stronger. Tell us, blessed one, why are evils now stronger, And why do we suffer more grievously than those before us? For when the kingdom of Satan draws near, It rushes more violently upon earth-dwellers. ^C

XXXIV. That one ought rather to be ashamed before oneself. Everyone who abandons his own affairs and observes those of others Has a narrow vision, and for this reason he sees From afar; but if his gaze is turned to a wider scope, Seeing himself nearby, he does not look any further. ^D

XXXV. If the liar perishes, how much more the perjurer! If the lyricist David is thought to have sung truly, "You will destroy all those who speak a lie," Where then would he be, who by his own perjuries Offends all those who have faith in a sincere heart?

XXXVI. That discourse on virtue is not for just anyone. Someone asked a renowned shepherd: "Speak a word." And he said: "Go, glean acorns from another oak; For I am ashamed to teach anyone about virtue, Since in desiring great things, I accomplish not even a trifle."

XXXVII. That poverty is not at all invidious. If someone were to set us free from cares, and hatreds, and envy, and then Were to lead us upon a road free of care and war, Would we not follow him? Yet poverty brings these And more good things to us: and yet we flee from it?

XXXVIII. That he who is attacked from all sides is invulnerable. From the war of the ears, and the tongue, and the eyes, He who dwells on the high mountains is delivered. The war of the heart alone troubles him, but because it is single, It is not difficult; but Mars is to be feared when among many.

XXXIX. That words spoken with confidence are immortal. A tyrant held a mountain-dweller captive; and since he could not Win him over to his own opinion, he said: "Do you not fear That I might destroy you?" But he replied: "And are you not ashamed, that you struggle with a mountainous man?"

^A Are you not conquered, and do you not say that you are performing the deeds of a scorpion?"

XL. That one should not be arrogant in any matter. If you should boast of something great, you will hear something greater from another; for Zeno said: The sun has never seen me dining. Theo, standing by, answered: Nor has the sun seen me angry, he said. As a king storms a city, if he is able To cut off the approaching provisions and water, So too, said Pior, will you raze the passions. While these remain, you shall struggle with difficulty.

XLII. That the young are easily deceived. Youth does not produce a stable mind for other things. Hence an elder said: If you see a young man Ascending to heaven, take him by the foot and pull him to the ground; Lest, falling from time, he lose his pate.

XLIII. That passions are subdued even by other passions. There is even some profit from vice. For one mindful of injury, inflamed with wrath, having poison inside, Vomited it forth; and having appeared, was reconciled. For every viper Casting itself from its hole is no longer so much to be feared.

XLIV. That submission is above all things. Caught away, a man saw the best of men in heaven; The young attendant shone more than them. Seeking the manner, he learned that these willingly Did good things; but he, he had not even a will.

XLV. That one must remain where one has settled. If you drag a tree from place to place, do you know what you will do? Man, living here and there, does much more. But if the place oppresses, though it is not a great evil, Do not ask anything for the sake of other things.

XLVI. That the mind fashions images. Cyrus, an accurate painter, said: "My mind Is fashioning shapes and forms within me." Elladius answered: "We tremble if the wild beasts are alive; If not, the gnat is far stronger."

XLVII. That evil is an insidiousness. Satan is never idle; he persuades at all times in all things, He loosens the strong, he subdues the holy; He even made the Apostle a traitor. Woe is me, someone said, The evil crosses even as far as Gades.

XLVIII. That [one must act] according to the place and the needs. Agathon received a guest; someone threw lentils into a pot, ^C And the elder set them before him. The friend said laughing: "The lentils are raw." The other cried out: "Does not this Suffice for you, since you have seen the flames of fire upon Athos?"

XLIX. That excuses are easily detected. Men were hurling abuse at a common friend, and Simo [said] to them: "This censure is not of the holy." Turning, they said: "We say these things, caring for the man." But he said, ^D

^A "May this care seek out the heads of the enemies."

L. That eating is a secondary task. Applying his hands to labor, then Pior was eating and drinking, and to those inquiring he spoke: "I hold this as a secondary task." And otherwise: "Indeed, my spirit was consuming itself, lest it feel overly much of sweet delight."

LI. That being a people-pleaser is most laborious. Invited to a guest-meal, Carino went down, and seeing a resplendent Maenad with tears, he said: "Woe is me! Loving, I do not strive so much to please the One who reigns on high, as she strives to please these most licentious men."

LII. That swearing falsely is difficult. A simple lie brought down the whole nature, such that even now, there is no postponement of the vice. But we, swearing both compound and secondary words, will drag even the young down with us.

LIII. That one should not be meddlesome in the affairs of others. Having crossed Phrygia and the open plains of Asia, a friend having approached Eutropius near a mountain said: "I am not able to see a man worthy of the prior account; for the one who searches first loses being such himself."

LIV. That things by nature are more stable than those by convention. A wise mind demonstrates a wise man, and divine works [demonstrate] one all-wise and bright-minded; but whoever speaks from what is written, as long as it flows, he appears a prudent sage, but when these leave off, he gapes alone.

LV. That temptations in the mountains are greater. Fleeing the waves of life, as if to a harbor, one came into a mountain, and seeing demonic wars, said: "Woe is me! What shall I suffer?" And some one said: "If you were to remove the temptations of the monks, they would be of no account."

LVI. That the road to life is not broad. The narrow path, someone said, which you hear of, consists of tightening one’s desires; and the one who has even mowed these down, might say: "Behold, we too follow you, having abandoned all things, O King."

LVII. That the ascetic life is taught by God. "How might I be saved?" Antony said, being dispirited. To him appeared a gentle man, having work. And standing again he prayed, and again sat down for work. And he said to him: "Thus live, and you shall be favored."

LVIII. That despair is the last of evils. "I have fallen, O blessed one, tell me what we shall do?"—"Awake, child."—"But I fall again."—"Awake again for me."—"Until when?"—"Until a certain point; if not, then until a time; if not, until you live; for He says: 'Where I find you, there I will judge you.'"

LIX. That repentance is not greater than sinlessness. "Tell me, blessed one, who is better: he who is unpolluted from [his] nails, [B, C, D]

(21) Pior opus manibus faciens potumque cibumque sumebat, ducens ista supervacua, (22) Vidissetque Lupam corpore conspicuam Hei mihi! flens dixit, non tam contendo placere Corde Deo, meretrix quam studet ista procis. (23) Naturam prostraverunt mendacia sola, Hinc requies plane nulla fuit vitiis. Sed magis inque dies mage nos jurare maligne Consueti, mentes exitio dabimus.

[C880A] LIII. Neither must one inquire curiously into the affairs of others. I have traveled the fields of Phrygia and the open plains of Asia, And having come as a friend to Eutropius, who lived on the high mountains, I could not see the wisdom of the men of old: For such a man, while seeking others, had ceased to be himself. LIV. That things which are by nature are more stable than those which are by convention. ^B A wise mind reveals a wise man, but divine works Show the glorious All-Wise, even if he speaks in writing. As long as it flows, the wise man seems to be wise, But when these words fail, he gapes in silence. LV. That the temptations of those on the mountains are greater. ^C Fleeing the waves of life as if toward a harbor, I saw the battles of the demons upon the mountain. "Woe is me," he says, and another asks: "What is this suffering?" "If you avoid the temptations of the monks, they are of no account." LVI. That the road to life is not broad. The road is narrow, someone said, as you hear, Namely, to restrain the movements of the mind and the senses. And when these are mastered, to cry: "We also, Following all things, obtain, O King." ^D LVII. That the ascetic life is taught by God. "How may I be saved?" Antony said in discouragement. But the gentle man, having stood, says: "Pray, and again apply yourself to works." And he said: "Live thus, and kindly." LVIII. That the ultimate evil is despair. "Holy Father, I have fallen, what shall I do?" "Rise, my child." "But I have fallen again." "Rise again," he says. "Until when?" "Until the time—" or "Until the end—" For he says: "Wherever I find you, there I shall judge you." LIX. That repentance is not better than sinlessness. Tell me, good man, who is better, one unstained from the beginning, Or one who has sunk into evils and then swum back out? The former I strive to inquire about; But the whole expectation of mortals has perished. LX. That the outpouring of tears is manifold. I know the tears of grief, and of joy, and of love, And of expected fear, and of expected glory, And of nature, and divine things, and of decaying virtues. These you would discern by sweetness and by pain. LXI. That sleepiness is manifold. The sleep of the sleepless is manifold: for some it is food, For others, constitution and habit; for others, holy labors. Some regain the strength of hunger; others, the hostile Demon, prevents the pious from keeping watch. [C880B] LXII. That those who pray use various compositions of the hands. The wise stretch out their hands when they pray, Some raising them on high; others, when they do not know Where they are, reach downward; others, with palms upward, as if to grasp something; Others in the shape of the cross; for Amalek is near. LXIII. That the mask of virtue is ridiculous. An idol and a man who shows himself off vainly are one; That one possesses an adornment in golden shapes, But within is full of pitch and mud; so also this man, Being holy on the outside, is not such on the inside. ^C LXIV. That even to the very grain of salt there is observance for the perfect. "Come, see these impossible works," said Achillas, "Isaiah eats crusts dipped in salt." If you would wish to season these broths, Come to Egypt, and see the mountain-dwellers. LXV. That one must first seek the kingdom of God. I ask many things of God, but which of these is accomplished? None. How is this, Theo? How is it becoming to obtain? One must ask for the one thing first, and immediately those also will follow; But if you want the many, even that one perishes at the same time. ^D LXVI. That one must attend rather to oneself. A certain man was judged for lechery; and Pior, having been called to this, Came carrying sand on his back in a full basket. He holds a handful of this in front, and shouted: "My own affairs Are so many, and I do not see them; shall I examine those of strangers?" LXVII. That the union of the soul and body is difficult to grasp. If I love the flesh, I am fought; if I fight, I am worn out; if I honor it, I am deceived. Woe is me! What am I becoming, and where do I turn, being unstable, a wretch? LXVIII. That the old man would submit himself to his companions; that he would feign this, and find it difficult to have virtue. [alt-version omitted]

He rebukes him, and he replies: "Draw the bow once, / And again, and then again; but it breaks, and no strength remains." / And if he is like that, he who has let go is strong again. ^A

LXIX. That no irascible man is inspired by God. / Anger and wrath are alien to monks; for if Christ / Is gentle, those in whom He dwells must be gentle. / Every irascible man, even if he raises the dead, / Lies in saying he is Christ's, even if he swears a great oath on it.

LXX. That life is a form of festival. / "I bought Eden," said the elder, "for myself, and the whole of it; / And now, because it is sold for water or bread fragments, / And we hold the greatest thing to be of little value—O wretched fate, / The fountain is overflowing, yet we perish of thirst."

LXXI. That salvation is not to be hoped for from works alone. / "If God might wash away sins through mercy, / There is some hope for me," Lucius cried out. / "But if this comes about by tears, twenty men / Lamenting with me will not wash anything of mine." ^B

LXXII. That poverty is more bearable than riches. / And these things happen to the rich: then, unexpectedly, / Ares arrives, and they, seeing their field destroyed / And their cattle perishing, are seized by pallor; / Light-hearted, however, is the poor man, laughing the more.

LXXIII. That the abstinence from evils is of many forms. / We might shut up an asp and a basilisk in a mortar, / And bind a lion with strong nets. / So all reasoning that does not proceed to deeds, / Being choked within, scatters quickly.

LXXIV. That companionship with the good is a cause of good. / Do you seek the fear of God? It lies in the heart of each; / But if you desire it, yet it remains rather far away, / Come hither, go together with a holy man; for the unmanly / Themistocles was spurred on by the prizes of Miltiades. ^C

LXXV. That the place which provides less consolation is more beneficial to the soul. / Some men, raised in the mountains, used to frequent a rougher spot, / And were eager to cultivate it with plants. / But someone said: "Take care, lest in making this level, / We acquire the wild ways of the soul."

LXXVI. Pastors are Atreidae, and priests are shepherds, / And many have stolen this title for themselves. / But there is one who is truly the one to whom the title correctly belongs, / Bearing this name: he who pastures in heavenly groves.

LXXVII. That prayer is difficult to accomplish. / To every virtue there is effort and sweat beforehand; / But to prayer more so, even if it does not seem so. / For as much as its glory is, so much does the demon bring on reluctance, / Moving every stone, even to the last stone. ^D

LXXVIII. That we should console ourselves from our neighbors. / Grieved by the death of his son, a father...

^A when lamenting bitterly, Asius being present said to him: "If you were to consider the misfortunes of your neighbors, you would take a lighter lamentation for your own."

LXXIX. That idleness is the source of sin. For five months someone desired to speak to an old man, but it was not the right time, for he was always working. At last, having been grieved, he called out, "Hear me, if you have even a little leisure." But he held fast to his former works.

LXXX. ^B Diagnosis of illuminations. Two men were struggling according to Christ; the one, in more fervent contests; the second, indeed, in lazier ones. God first honored the latter. Why? Tell me, seeking a simple heart: the Lord prefers that, or labors.

LXXXI. That the devil is envious. The envious one is sufficient for the race of men; but if we also sharpen strange millstones against each other, not even the wild beasts of the forest will be free from destruction, and then the malicious one would have no labor.

LXXXII. That love is quieted by God alone. Love bent the bow, and I feared the sharp double-edged arrow; what shall I do? what? Meanwhile, lift up whatever weapon you have. Then flee to Christ; for He is ^C mighty and able to oppose all the stratagems of the hostile.

LXXXIII. That the greetings of the saints are divine. Flee these three things: a woman, a viper, and a lion; but the woman more, for her bite is the more bitter. Greet monks, because by the constancy of their prayers, they bear divine lips and tongue.

LXXXIV. That rebuke before sin is indestructible. To the one who had sinned and was groaning powerfully, Bessarion said: "If, my dearest, you had considered these things before, thus lamenting in your ^D soul, you would not now need such great griefs."

LXXXV. That remaining in the same place is more conducive to labor. "O blessed one, noble of heart, tell us also what we shall do. Do you ask with your eyes? These things are clear by their burdens. Sit in your house, only sit; this is enough to teach you deeds, rather than some high-talker."

LXXXVI. That hospitality is a priority for monks. Monks loosen the frame of their rules if a guest comes, and they say, "These are remedies." But the guest of Christ bears the likeness of Christ; He is indeed He, without whom no defense is able to help.

LXXXVII. That one ought not to persevere in evils after falling. If the Lord ordered to remit the faults of others seventy-seven times, would He not himself forgive more? So do not yield to him who reminds you of your former deeds after the action.

LXXXVIII. That a monk is not bound to anything.

LXXXIX. That one must take care of even the uninitiated.

XC. That he who has entered upon labors must stand fast.

XCI. That a change of heart must be in the opposite direction.

XCII. That the foolish find fault with things that are noble.

XCIII. That everything is strong when in its own place.

XCIV. That the prayers of those who hold grudges are not accepted.

As much as the one in the stadium [who is] from the starting gate [running] to the finish line, everyone shouts more [loudly], "Hasten still, look, the prizes are at hand!" How, friend, [when I am] exhausted and at the gates of old age, do you not urge me on, but say, "Rest"?

XCVI. Much speaking and much exhorting; pray for one thing only, that you may meet a man who has a heart. But if you open the books of Helicon to a man without a heart, you are crying out for Hylas, or speaking to the seashore.

[index: entries preserved]

^A XCVII. If the tax-collector is better than the Pharisee, depart from the Pharisee; if you desire things of old, let anything new farewell. For when repentance joins with modesty, it makes an angel out of a man who takes it up. Where repentance runs, sin is feeble; for, they say, fire and wild-pear trees do not agree. And if somewhere among the rocks a swift-winged falcon appears, to these also the rocks seem to take cover. ^A XCVIII. Matoes falls prone, and rising, he wept. But the servant asked him to learn these things. He said, with a sigh reaching on high: "I saw some within Eden separated from those of the world; but many unmarried ones at the portals." ^B

PRAISE OF THE HOLY GREAT MARTYR PANTELEEMON BY JOANNES GEOMETRA

When long ago the most impious Maximian held the scepter near Nicomedia, the race of the Romans was distressed and writhing in agony. For fear held the pious in great measure then, and a merciless dread held those who loved God. For he himself, that thrice-wretched ruler Maximian, that three-headed dog, appointed commanders and rulers in every city, decreeing that they should sacrifice to idols. ^C And there was a certain man named Eustorgius, a man of senatorial rank especially, and flourishing in lineage, dwelling in the city of Nicomedia itself, who had one beloved and handsome son, Pantaleon, the glorious light of his life. ^D Him, shining in divine discourses, having well traced out the entire path of learning with swift speed, he hands over to Euphrosynus, who at that time was the first in the sciences, that he might learn as it is lawful all medical education, so that he, comforting those suffering from disease in the palace, addressing them, and speaking to them kindly, might delight them with soothing herbs of miracles.

ELOGIUM OF THE MOST HOLY MARTYR PANTELEIMON

^C When the impious emperor formerly held the scepter Near Nicomedia, The Roman race was vexed in dire ways. For then a horrible dread oppressed the pious, And trembling seized the god-fearing, lovers of God. For the terrible and miserable emperor himself, Maximian, the three-headed dog, Dreadful like the Tartarean Cerberus, ^D Appointed fierce leaders in every city, Commanding that idols be worshipped with victims. There was then a man named Eustorgius, A man of consular rank, of illustrious lineage, Holding his residence in the city of Nicomedia, Who had one beloved, fair son, Illustrious Pantaleon, the light of his life. Him, shining now with sacred sermons And having fully traversed the path of learning [E] In a very short time, Reaching the first degree of the sciences, Euphrosynus attached to himself, that he might learn The healing arts, which it is right to know, For he was fostering those laboring in the royal house, Addressing them kindly, and refreshing them with soothing words.

[Continuing from the Greek column]

Having taken this most admirable youth, He taught [him] the practical art, not the innovative one, Applauding him, teaching him, gathering [his knowledge] into one. When he often hurried to the palace, Panteleimon, running from behind, Followed along with his leading master. Seeing this, the grandees in turn, Asking who he is, and how he is, and whose he is, Made haste to speak to the teacher of the youth: "For it was not possible, it seems, to find another So adorned, such a fair-faced, handsome youth, Within the houses of the royal palace." To them, Euphrosynus aptly said: "He is the son of Eustorgius, and of [his] mother Eubola, Who, having died by the fated lot, Has paid the common debt of all [men]. To me, [they entrusted] this one to become A solver of future sufferings, So that he might stop the incurable pains of injuries, [And] they provided for [him] to learn from the ready [source]." But they answered him immediately: "By the salvation of the gods, O best of men, This handsome, fair youth Is worthy to stand before the ruler." And quickly they make plain to the evildoing Ruler everything about this youth. And he, having called for his prompt servants, Brought the longed-for youth to him, Shining, sparkling like a jewel. The bold, crown-wearing [ruler], Seeing the transparent appearance of his face, And that which sparkled from his eyes, And that which flashed like lightning, Rejoiced deeply in his soul. And he urged Euphrosynus straightway, More than even before, and by a great deal, To teach him the craft with diligence, For he sought to provide prudent counsel for him; So that if Euphrosynus, in a long time, Should run his course of life, [And] having died, the palace would have This one to heal everyone as he did. But Hermolaus, an elder, in a hidden place, Truly lived, having embraced Christ in his heart, Who, seeing this Panteleimon twice, There, and hither, and further on, Where he lived, with quick speed Turning aside from the busy road. And seeing his radiant appearance, His pleasant gait, his approachable mouth, His humble character, and his serene manner, And knowing in his spirit that he was a great vessel of election, The elder, fearing, approached him with a quiet foot, Calling him secretly, where he long remained Lamenting, waking, resting [from] his labors, In a desolate place of dwelling, for fear of the Gentiles. As he moved and stepped over the threshold, He greeted him, saying, "O most fair shoot, Most excellent young man, hail many times to me." And he [replied], "O venerable elder, hail, most honored head."

^A And Panteleemon straightway replied. And the most aged elder, taking him by the hand, said to him, "Child, tell me, of what father and mother art thou the beloved son?" "I am the son of Eustorgius," the boy Panteleemon freely replied, "and of my mother Eubule, O Father, who passed away in the time long past." HERM. "Of what religion, child? Are you of one [mind], or does one remain with another in division, abiding in the connection of a mutual bond?" PANT. "My mother who has died cherished Christ greatly. My father, who is alive, loves the gods, O Father, and offers libations and sacrifices each day." HERM. "Your spirit, then—does it honor the ancestral worship, or do you have reverence for your father’s in not wishing to look upon the tomb of your most noble mother?" ^B PANT. "She, desiring to offer herself as a sacrifice to God alone while alive, wished to bring it to pass; but my father has long desired me rather to be a soldier. However, [though] the most venerable mother did not wish it, my father binds me and presses me with his own nets as if with an evil trap." HERM. "The things you are now learning from your teacher—tell these also to me with friendly readiness, for I wish to know how they stand." PANT. "I turn the pages of the books of Galen’s art, and of Hippocrates’s at the same time, and of Asclepius the wise, the foreseeing, concerning the established dogmas, and I obey my teacher, for it is necessary. For he says that, having gone through these, you shall easily be able to put an end to every mortal disease." ^C HERM. "These things are trimmings, smoke, and soot; they are the traces of a wandering ship or the image of a shadow. Galen is nothing, and Hippocrates is nothing. Neither is the other swarm of gods, whom king Maximian also worships. But come here, child, cast the rotten burden from your heart, obey, and believe in Christ alone, through whom you might obtain soundness both of spiritual pains and of bodies, driving far away evil unbelief. For He raised the dead by a word, and before this drove away the terror of demons; He gave sight to the blind out of their blindness. ^D The lame, the bedridden, the infirm, the paralyzed, He strengthened and set upright from grievous death. He cleansed the lepers, and changed the water-flowing discharge into a sweet-scented and drinkable draught; a great wonder of old wine to his friends, the sweetest nectar from hidden depths. When a woman also touched the hem [of his garment] with her hand, she immediately checked a blood-flowing nature. Along with these are many greater wonders, which the human mind is not able to count; and those who stretch their hopes toward him out of fiery longing, as toward a benefactor, He protects, guarding them from necessary harm, and doing an even greater grace from afar, He awards and bestows it upon His servants who obey Him.

^A

THE POEM OF JOHN THE GEOMETER ON SAINT PANTELEIMON

Then Panteleimon, hearing the sharp point of the matter and the most exact declaration of the words of the old man, was seized with an insatiable longing. And just as the earth, previously most beautiful, having taken within it the seed that has been sown, and having tempered it with dew and varied warmth, increases, ripens, and brings forth mature fruit; so too he, having in an evangelical manner grown a thousand-fold ear of corn for repentance—a strange, all-seeded heap of miracles—for the common benefit of the human race, increased, sprouted, and exalted it by his labor, setting a harvest for those willing to take it, desirable, not for sale, without silver. Then, having bowed down with piety, he besought the old man while prostrate: "Tell me, therefore, how I might be able to see with my eyes the healer of souls and bodies of whom you speak. You said, too, before, that he [was] from my mother..." ^B

Having spoken and released the power of his resolve, calling upon the most mighty and all-powerful bath as a help, "Take," he said, "the radiant bath as a help, and an unshakable faith as a guard, and doing everything easily, you shall be successful in all respects." For, moved by shame, he did not turn away, but rather with foresight he hastened toward him. Hence, rejoicing, Panteleimon would head each day toward the old man's dwelling. For he would never enter the well-built house of his father, returning home from his teacher, without wishing to fall before the feet of the old man. ^C

But on one day of the many that were passing, while he was walking a little outside the path, journeying quite unworthily away from the main road, he found a child lying on the ground, struck by a beast and already dead, and the beast near him; for it was a most wicked viper crawling upon the earth. Having been seized by great agony thereafter, he was terrified, being frightened by the course of events, and with frequent trembling, fear, and cowardice, he stood speechless, watching what was happening. He moves forward, and again having returned, rushing backward, and having collected his thoughts, "If," he said, "the old man’s words are indeed true, I shall know." And having struck his breast, stretching his gaze to the pole, and lifting his hands on high in a gesture of raising, he spoke the most pious prayer of all: ^D

"O Christ Savior, light before the beginning, Who performs all things by Your will alone, from Whom descends every gift of good things: if You deem me worthy to be Your servant, let the all-devouring beast be rent asunder, and grant life back to the dead child." When, therefore, immediately the beast was rent asunder and the child stood up in no way harmed, he clearly knew how great the power of the Word of God [...]

^A in Pantelemon was, a power immeasurable. And standing upon the top of the beast's carcass, shaking his whole body gently like a fledgling, and looking toward the ether, he sent forth worthy prayers. Then he ran to the old man to proclaim these things, a self-messenger seeing in advance as a herald. Falling to the ground, "Be merciful, Father," he cried incessantly, saying, "Give me most quickly the ineffable rebirth, the light-invoking grace of purification. For I know, even with wise persuasion, that another God, supreme, immortal, great, is not, nor can be, but Christ alone, through whom the dead rise up again." And he announced all the miracle that had appeared unexpectedly. ^B The elder then said: "Show me also the carcass of the destroyed beast, my child, as it is." Both went to where the beast lay, jointless, breathless, stretched out, mangled and defiled; it lay as a terror and a mockery to those who saw it. And Pantelemon showed the carcass of the destroyed beast to the elder somehow at close hand; he leaped up for joy. The elder, lifting the eye of his mind much further to the height of heaven’s dwelling, gladly giving thanks to the Lord, ^C spoke thus from his venerable mind: "Glory, glory, glory befits Thee alone, Thou triply-shining one of the one Godhead, the all-seeing, the mighty Master, the Creator of things above and below, the almighty first-author of good things, Thou who bringest the world to its end by the Word, Thou who didst appear and save the divine and corrupt substance, and didst make it superior to the angels by Thy presence. For Thou hast shown the swift reward of the struggle in deed—which shall not be hidden from the enemy—to Thy repentant servant, ^D who drove away the opposing phalanx, to attain those better mansions." And together, more quickly, they proceeded again to the house of the old man, where he placed the light-bearing, holy seal upon him who believed in the thrice-sunlit light; and he remained with the old man, laboring together for seven days. And indeed, after the seventh, he returned home gladly. His father said to him, filled with tears: "Beloved child, where were you for so many days, and I was groaning in distress? ^A Mourning, my child, what I, unhappy one, suffer, missing you—where is my son? What is to become of me, the desirable future? I do not see a life without groans. While you were present, I even longed to die."

Pantaleon spoke briefly to his father: “A certain one of the nobles, and an illustrious prince, was suffering most grievously, and I and my teacher have been tending to him in the royal palace for seven days, until the severity of the painful affliction was completely mitigated.” The father was moved to tears and was calmed. From there, he immediately left his father’s hearth, having flown forth clearly, and since he had no fear within, he ran to Euphrosynus the teacher. Now that the day was smiling with a golden hue, he went away, like another morning star. Seeing him, the prudent man asked: “O Pantaleon, a course of seven days has passed since you left this school. Tell me, do not hide it from me; for I know you have the liberty of your movements.” “A new and most excellent father recently bought a field,” he replied, “and I remained with him, stationed by his side, attempting not to falter, from that place where I spend my time, setting in order the plows, the goads, and the ox-drivers, and examining the new estate. I remained working for seven days. For it is better than many fields and possessions, and more precious than everything else, that which I have acquired now.” Euphrosynus heard this and stopped his mouth. ^B When I clothed myself with Christ God for piety and reformation, I wished to bring back my father from his deep error. This was indeed the point of the discourse; [he] was doing everything to shift him, that he might become a believer, writing and extending clearly readable dogmas, and the sayings of the prophets who bear witness reasonably to the fulfillment of the world, how the dragon prevailed, drawing out the ruinous [poison] of men. And indeed, the Master carried him, being God, incorporeal, unchangeable in nature. Yet, having been born from undefiled blood, and having taken on the form of a servant—that is, human nature—and mortal flesh, but without sin, he was fastened to the cross with nails driven in. Having suffered passions—O miracle! the solution of passions—he died willingly. And having died voluntarily, he descended to the gates of Hades, and by his power he opened the tombs that had been hidden of old, raising the dead, those buried by time, offering as a gift the paternal homes above. Lifting up the dust and bearing it aloft, he wounded the dragon with a timely blow. He is the same one who is about to come again from on high to the bloodthirsty wolves and to those who commit sins, to make them give account. But, as for the righteous, the good, and the orderly, he promises an unceasing life and a higher nourishment.

^A Prince of all mortals, of the living and of the dead, in a twinkling appearing as a severe judge. Your gods are indeed weak, O father, idols made by hand, by the craft of demons, as the clear-sighted prophet once said. For what are they but certain empty fabrics, which stand by the same base on which they were placed? Is not this useless weight of the earth? These gods sit, but they sit in vain, nor do they rise afterward; and if they are in an upright state, they remain fixed as on stable columns; they neither bend their limbs, nor incline their head. And they are devoid of light, even though they remain in the light. In this way he grasps the handles of his instructor father. The father piously gave this reply to his son: This discourse cannot be understood sufficiently easily, and is most difficult for those still uninstructed. The rest in the archetype are lacking.

VARIOUS POEMS OF JOHN GEOMETRA, AS THEY ARE CALLED, OF SACRED OR HISTORICAL SUBJECT MATTER.

Do not vary the likeness of the master with colors, but join together diamond, gold, silver, stone, bronze, and iron at the same time. Fashion, however, the body: first form the heart out of gold, the chest out of shining silver, but the hands and the strong arms out of bronze, the loins out of diamond, the feet out of stone, the legs, the backs, and the firm head, all out of iron. With all things mixed and adapted by art, place a new, all-gathered, ornate statue toward the light, where there is the heat of the sun, snow, hail, and the rigor of ice; with these fashion the body of my master. Moreover, let two hands be extended. Toward the east, let the right hand, bearing victory, point to the borders of the earth; toward the setting sun, let the left point; just as he extended the five limits of the Ausonians, who were not contemporaries, with these let him represent the body of the master. But the beauty of the soul, and prudence, and habits, not the price of the material, nor the form from art, but if the beauty and the multitude of the stars were gathered into one, and joined by art, and duly infused through the parts and members, [with the super-imposed…]. ^{B C D}

in gleaming light of many colors; a new formation, sending forth lightning in appearance, that could scarcely represent the brilliance of his character, or the light of his mind illuminating the whole earth. But embrace your fellow-ruler, O bringer of light; for He in whom you reign, reigns; He has seen that which you tread. And you, O heaven, write the trophies of your master; for only your expanse can contain his victories. Weaving, moreover, a varied crown from the stars, crown both his right hand and his head.

II. Epitaphs for the Lord John, the Emperor.

Stand here a little while,O traveler, and having cast a sympathetic eye upon this tomb, weep for mortal things, seeing my fortunes, and pour out a warm tear for me as I lie here. I, born from the loins of a noble father, a scion of that root, a shoot abounding in strength, surpassed many who were born in boldness. For my childhood had not yet passed, and my manly spirit flashed with arms in the very midst of the land of the barbarians. I was not yet even a horseman, but I was already a leader of warriors. Nor did the first down yet shadow my chin with the fuzz of youth, but I filled the earth with my trophies, all that the Euphrates flows around and the Tigris circles. The Chabdani alone shuddered at my hands; the Arab prepared his mare for flight. I was the first to teach the race of the Ausonians to stand against the flashing brightness of the sword, both the helmet and the faces of the enemy in battle. My sword did not often have need of the battle. These hands did not have work to do frequently, but the sword cast the trembling enemy to the ground. Yet the expert use of weapons, the invention of new ones, and the brilliant shape of my disciplines, were the work of my daring deeds. One would not have thought that a mortal and vulnerable body was the actor in the battles, but some other nature, immaterial and superior to men. ^A As long, therefore, as the Right Hand above was shielding me, I excelled, I flourished, I conquered; I reduced to servitude under my power almost every one of the nations which the rising sun first illuminates. But when the love of the basest tyranny in life took hold of me—alas, my ill-counsel!—I stained my right hand with blood, and I seized the scepter of power, having torn down the tower that was my kindred. From then on, woe is me! What and how should I say it? First, indeed, my accusing nature within was bitter, pricking my heart with its stings. I was scourged within, I was torn asunder, bearing conscience as a terrible judge. Then, fearing all my subjects, looking suspiciously at false dreams and shadows, I dragged out a bitter, much-lamented life, living the life of a hare, I who was once an intrepid lion. But having lived short and bitter years, alas! I have now been settled in this tomb of three cubits. I lie dead, the winged knight; I who was once resplendent in golden armor, ^B

^C soon wrapped in funeral garments. And I who gave my own victories to be celebrated by the lyre, am now a toy—alas!—for comic baubles. The fiery sharpness of my hands, and the spirited hardness of this chest, are now cold dust and putrid stench. That flower and beauty have slipped away, and the bright robes, the dignified appearance of the state, and the scepter, and the crown, and the golden throne: everything has slipped away. Only your terrible [judgment] remains for me, O Judge and my King, after all these things, for me already condemned: the judgment. But may you show me, within the justice, a heart of mercy; for even for Manasseh, the whole multitude of faults [you forgive]. It overcomes the multitude of stars, and even the sands, since I also am your work, and the work of your fingers.

3. Defeated by the common end of mortals, stranger, lament a certain new misfortune and suffering, hiding the old sufferings of misfortunes: a dead mother now [holds] her son, who has also died, whom she once nourished as an infant within her womb, whom she once held in her motherly arms; she holds him, having received the dead one in her embrace. ^D One tomb is theirs in common, as one womb, and common is the mother—the earth is the mother of the mother and the son. These things are enough to soften even the hard nature of stones, and all these things; yet, the bitter part of the suffering has not yet been told, even if one who sees it should weep. For she, who was joined to a man in marriage, whose beauty charmed every mind, and whose fame of power filled the whole earth, saw him the victim of the sword and of the blade. Having lived with the beloved as long as it takes a first-born shoot to grow, and looking with groans at the child, it was necessary to bear the memory of that suffering, both of them lamenting with tears: here, the child orphaned of his father, and there, she herself bereaved of her husband. But he whom she brought forth first, or rather [her] only one, growing up like a beautiful, young plant—when he arrived at the season of prime and marriage, and lit the bright nuptial torches—was immediately bereaved of his spouse, with no child left in place of the mother. [n.p.] But living thereafter for a short time unmarried, when he was already counted among men and shadowed his cheeks with the first down, and his beauty bloomed, and the pleasantness of his face vied in brightness with that of the stars—suddenly, by a heavy and insufferable sickness, he is cut off from life in a foreign land, before his day, alas! and the time of harvest, and he inhabited the common tomb with his mother. He left to the mother of the mother a double grief of sighs and wails, and double flames, she who, seeing her child and the child of her child hidden now in a common stone, draws the life of another unfortunate Niobe, draining a bitter, deeply-sighing time. But, O inhabitants of this bright house...

you chorus of pure, solemn, and divine beings, the dead man welcomes you with rich treasures, that you might visit his tomb with frequent torchlight processions. Let no one among you disturb this stone, nor grudge him this company; but let it bury only the son and the mother: so that, just as the mother held him entirely when he was new, so too, having died, she might remain alone with him. If anyone, regarding this law as naught, should choose to move this common stone, may he take upon himself the avenging eye of Providence, the fire of Gehenna, and the sword of justice. You used to embrace me with your hands, O Virgin, and I drew maternal milk from your breast. Now, myself embracing your spirit, I send my body to the place of delights.

5. On the Departure

Now, O heaven, rain down showers of blood; O air, clothe yourself in mourning darkness; O earth, be rent and open for me; cut down the trees, cast off your foliage, and, having clothed your face in a black garment instead of verdure, groan. Related blood awaits all the East first, and the sword divides those once united—alas—both families and limbs. A father in anger is set upon the slaughter of his own beloved ones, and a son stains his right hand with paternal murder; and he wields a sword, O bitter suffering! a brother against a brother’s breast. The earth, agitated by many tremors, is shaken below, and the flames of thunderbolts from above incinerate its dust. Cities, having cast their strong fortifications to the ground like hair and torn them apart, weep bitterly as mourning maidens. The sons of Hagar prevail; the cities that formerly paid tribute now seek rewards for our slaughter and dance in triumph. And these things indeed concern the East. But as for the West, what speech could tell it? A multitude of Scythians roams it as if it were their own fatherland and courses around it in a circle; and like a land producing noble shoots of invincible men and iron nature, they cut them off root and branch, and the sword divides the generations of infants; some the mother holds, while others the enemy has snatched away by the force of arrows. Cities that were once powerful are now light dust. And those that once nurtured horses and men—alas! how shall I, seeing this, cease from tears? Thus are regions and places set on fire. But you, O queen, the hearth of Byzantium, in what state do you stand before me, tell me, O city? A city overcome by evils, as much as you formerly surpassed others in goods; are you not shaken day by day? Do not your foundations fall and suffer rending tremors? Do you not see those branches you nurtured in your arms [torn] by the sword...

of their kin—alas for the suffering!—or, instead of brilliant and noble palaces, condemned to inhabit desert islands, gullies, and rocks, scarce holding their breath? And although suffering these things, alas!—oh, the rigors of your judgments, Judge—no one softens their stony heart, is reconciled to their neighbor, or sheds a tear as a remedy for salvation. But the sun has turned into darkness, and the moon’s radiance is veiled, and a new star, a strange prodigy of a new faith, has shone forth; yet for my sloth and my transgressions there is no account. But show kindness to me, compassionate Word; show your merciful eye; put an end to mutual destruction, public slaughter, to captures, chains, battles, factions, flights, persecutions, violence, penalties, and trials. You had mercy, I know, on the city of Nineveh, and you spared a sinful people; for it is your fold, the price of your blood, and I, O Christ, am your habitation; this city of yours cries out—it is your city—do not overlook it, beholding the abysses of evils. For until when shall the distress [last]?

6. On the five saints: Eustratius and those with him.

7. On the battle of the Romans.

prevails against them, and the choir of the stars. Seeing these things, he sent down beauty from above, most beautifully crowning the virtues with victories.

8. To a musician.

Orpheus, or Thamyris, or even Cinyras used to charm trees, wild beasts, and rocks with their songs; but by your delightful and melodious strains, nothing is left uncharmed—nay, even, I think, the sea rocks and the wild sea itself, and the violence of the winds, are calmed. For you see how they listened at once to the melody. The ether ceases its contrary winds, it breaks the thick obstructions of the clouds. Behold, it smiles radiantly in the clear sky; and down below, the sea, previously surging, is now laid flat and settled. It spat out its violence as a murderer throws his sword to the earth, and it calmed all its boldness. Rejoicing, it opens itself to your melody; it keeps a calm; it looks back with a smooth and pleasant gaze. The fish leap; the song-loving halcyon responds to you with an answering melody to your song; the dolphin swims alongside and circles the lyre; the snapper calls out, the nautilus runs before; the pompilos swims near for a little while and precedes. But I fear lest, by enchanting the very ship that carries all things with your melody, you might violently overturn all things upside down, or force the wild beasts, birds, and fish to jump toward it and drag them down, or that the sailors might turn into rocks—or rather all things, if you should wish to imitate the Sirens. For you show both the rocks themselves as if they were living, and the living creatures as you wish, fixed into rocks.

9. What is this beauty? What is this new creation again? Or who moved the Garden of Eden here? Not the virtues of the earth, but those of all creatures have come together here. And I blame nature. For how will two eyes suffice for me, to look around at such great beauties everywhere? And what is mind, and tongue, and one voice for me, to conceive or speak of such a multitude of wonders? And what time of day is enough to run through and describe all things top to bottom? For down below the earth, adorned like a bride, and raised a little bit from the ground as if it were a height, comes forth splendid and fully adorned for all to see, with laurels, plants, sprouts, shrubs, vines, ivy, clusters, fruit-bearing trees; springs, shadows, reeds, groves, pools, grasses, pastures, ravines, peaks, valleys, forests or meadows, caves and glens, flowers of all kinds, all beauties, every perfume, every color, fine linen, purple, gold, milk. Rose-beds, beds of lilies, sweet-scented violets, chrysanthemums, the pleasant narcissus and crocus, the purple-colored hyacinth more pleasant, and the flaming one even more conspicuous. Nothing is absent of all things that are better to be present, nothing at all is present of those things that are better to be away. The streams...

what streams shall words describe? Golden, clear, cool, light, countless, flowing like honey from the rock, with a delightful song; or are these the baths of the Graces, as it is told, or rather the Graces themselves poured out, not only three flowing forth, but a thousand? Or do the four rivers flowing from Eden of old irrigate the new Eden? Fountains, lagoons, and the countless arts of these pour forth delights more than the streams. These charm even stones and wild beasts. Do you see the multitudes, the beasts, birds, fishes? I think they have left every place in the world and have found here a common home, or they have flocked to the beauty of the Master, as they used to hasten to the song of Orpheus. They sing, they sing in response; the nightingale, the swan, the cicada, the swallow. The turtledove coos loudly, the partridge calls, sparrows chirp brightly, the pine tree hums, the murmuring stream flows, the hare runs, wild beasts and gazelles frolic. Everything rejoices, every kind of muse delights, everything is delighted; all things sing to the Master and, I think, to the Master. Where are the works of Praxiteles? Where those of Phidias? And where are those of Lysippus? Where even those of Polycleitus? These statues speak; for indeed they are talkative, and even if they were not talkative, they would cry out by their artistry. [L] For whose else are these? Who carves the breath, who the form, and who the character, or who even the reason? Observe the internal world, come into the houses; who is the Bezalel, the builder of the houses? O work of hands, of hands, but surpassing art! O mind above all things, a mind superior to superior minds, a mind that shapes the world, the most royal one. Leave aside the things of earth, and look to the things above; O radiant air, a small outflow of light, O tempering of the seasons! O wellspring of spectacles of matter, of art, of earth, of air, of light, of the heavens! What Solomon has adorned this creation? Who has gathered the natures into one place? Who has rather transmuted the natures through art? A wise, wise mind, the royal nature, the miracle of the earth, the one who both crowns and is the crown, having overcome the tyranny of all barbarians, of passions, of necessities, of the belly, of sleep, of cares, and of all living creatures, of waters and wild beasts, and of arguments, as I see now, and of laws. The sun, illuminating and adorning all things, is himself the most beautiful thing of life. And the Master, gathering all beauties, is himself the greatest beauty of the place, and is beauty rather to the beauties shining in the place; a lamp, a delight of delights. I think that Lucifer, when he first sees this place, halts his golden chariot, fearing to depart and to run towards the West. Scarcely has the Master shone forth, than he departs, defeated, and does not endure his beauty.

^A He departs straightaway, and endures not the beauty. Let others dwell in the earth like mice, as the basest of creeping things and beasts, in burrows and ravines; for I do not call houses caves and caverns and mouse-holes, or rotten and trembling playthings of wood, the sport of children, works and spoils of all violence, of rains, of fire, of earthquakes, and of winds. To us God has given a tower of strength, a tower of stability, a tower of an unbroken life, conquering all the passions of this life, and barbarian hands and artifices, full of all good things and spectacles; a tower of beauty, a tower of ineffable joy, from earth, sea, air, light, heaven; and rather a mixture of the seasons, the limit of earth and sea, it is a bond, even if a boundary connects and divides the natures. ^B A towering colossus, and cleaving the air; it strives somehow even to reach the ether. The breadth is wide, and the length something more. Both of these possess beauty, but how much more! The form of a square adorns the stones; an extraordinary joining and to a hair is the form of the tower, the form of a slender honeycomb; the form most beautiful is hexagonal, raised toward the stars, and the beauties of the heaven. Do not tell me of ancient tower-building; that was not yet a tower, but had an end; this one is greatest and has been built as a tower; alone it stands, and guards the city. It delights yet more every sight and city, a place of miracles; in the midst of the air and the winds, a certain gulf, a house of Æolus. And it is itself beauty, and beholding from on high the beauty of the world, it is a world to the eyes. From the earth, flowers, trees, meadows, grasses, fountains, forests, fields, and streams; the vine, too, is heavy with myriad fruit, much of it straightway food that makes one drunk, and much of it tree-grown that gladdens the eye; and there is where there is a blending that is made beautiful. The tree-vine is a tower-grown vine. Branches are accordant, and fair tendrils; ^B fruits accordant, and grapes and more besides, a bed of leaves, and porticoes and roofs. Do you wish to understand the whole face of the tower? Raise your eyes upward, look from near upon the virtues of the earth; well done to him who has called out, prophetically breathing of what did not exist of old.

XI. To his own father

From my birth, full of toil, I have come to the last stage of old age, a ready servant, the crown of the empire. How much land I traversed, and last I held the Asian, far from kindred, far from a dear wife. But a pair of children led me to the holy city, and again they placed me in noble hands. Yield to the pair of my children, Cleobis and Biton, who did not by small stages lead the one who bore them. [end of page]

^B Mild and pleasant, gray-headed, white-minded, the crown of graces, the splendor of life. But a deadly fate of mortals dragged you far from fatherland, wife, and children to the nether world. O King Christ, I shall not track the footprints of your wisdom so that you might translate the bones from Asia by your nod, as once the bones of your servant Joseph from Egypt; but rather to place the soul on your heavenly thrones.

12. On the Ascension

13. On Aristotle

14. On Plato

16. On Saint Gregory the Theologian

17. On Simplicius, the interpreter of the Ten Categories

19. On the Two Voices and the Ten Categories

20. On the philosophers.

21. On the depredations of the Iberians.

22. On the Bulgarians.

23. On the intellectual substance.

24. On the comet.

25. Definition of the categories.

26. On the contemplative and practical philosophy.

^A foundations, these two. And for each one, both together, it is hardly even possible.

27. On Simplicius. Is Simplicius a rhetor or a philosopher? He seems to me both, and in truth outstanding in discourse.

28. On Porphyry. Porphyry showed the white, the purple ^B depth of the knowledge of Aristotle. A bird is winged, and fire is light by nature; higher, however, than that of Iamblichus is the mind, unless one posits incorporeal substances. Let him who does not yet speak, convict the man of the kinds of beings that appear to the wise; Iamblichus being pure mind and nothing else. O Syrus, I who have admired your nature, Syrus, may you be faithful; Christ is of the race of the Syrians. So many sects of the ancients are there of the wise: Pythagoreans, Stoics, those of Parmenides, the swarm of Cyrenaics, those of the Megarians, the chorus of Plato, and those of the Peripatetics—Epicureans, Cynics, Pyrrhonists; the perfect decad, the columns of the ten kinds.

29. On the Dormition of the Theotokos. Do you live? Even in death; living, you bring forth, O Virgin.

30. On sojourning. Trojans and Achaeans, rushing one against the other, ^C fell due to one body for ten years. But the wise, for the sake of a word or a letter, have fought for tens of thousands of years. But God snatched me away from the missiles and from out of the clamor, into the knowledge of the Trinity, and into the light of the Trinity placed me. And syllogisms and reasonings and words, having told them a long farewell, let one God be known. An unoriginate principle, Spirit, the three lights.

31. On Saint Cyricus, standing in the middle of the vineyards. As a noble shoot of the vine of Christ, having appeared, O martyr, you stand as a guardian of the vineyards.

32. On Saint Blasius. As a sweet calf of the flock of the Church you were appointed, O Blasius, a great guardian.

33. On someone having gone down to Greece and having become countrified. Having seen not a land of barbarians, but Greece, you became ^D a barbarian in both speech and manner.

34. On Mount Olympus. The heaven for the angels, the earth for mortals; but seeing the two together as a common mountain for earth and heaven, they have claimed Olympus—this I believe, seeing the mixture. Those whom Homer, I think, calls gods, he left a common seat for all of them, prophetically calling Olympus the heaven.

35. On the imperial crowns of the hand [of Emperor John]. Your right hand has shattered the enemies, O my Christ.

^A And with your right hand crowned, everyone attributes to You the grace of the triumphs.

36. On the icon of the Savior.

Being the greatest Mind, You have assumed the density of flesh— This I depict now, but I worship the nature above, Not written by hands, not circumscribed by place.

37. On Saint John the Rhodanile.

It was white, as the Greeks said of old, The rose which Cypris now has made to bloom red. John was, he was rose-bearing, and yet again a white rose, The wonder of the world. It was not red from the blood of palm-trees, Nor did it have the scent of the perfume of orthodoxy. But it was cast in the middle of a foul-smelling place, As though from a rose-bed, indeed from its homeland, Shamefully violated by the hands of the servant-girl Hagar. The flower bloomed even while mired in mud. But, O planter and painter of the flowers, You did not endure the beauty thus left desolate; You beckon, and your garden possessed the grace. And indeed you make it fragrant with the spice of your faith, And you show it crimson-colored beyond expectation, From blood the color, albeit from its own self-flowing. Greater than all time and suffering is the dye, A fragrance flowing and not yet flowing away. Seeing this, heaven snatched it from the earth. But You are the Master of earth and heaven all the more, Setting your thron us nearby, the radiant one.

^D I am a leper, blind, dead, my Christ, Stooped in shoulders, heart, mind, and speech. Raise everything up, I live to You alone, and I have become Yours.

O wretched soul, what have you suffered? And how much, and what a surge of woe have you endured from youth until the setting of life! Your light perishes, and your noble strength perishes, and age perishes, and the hand has lost its power. The wicked citizens, the neighbors, all drain away my life, each as he wishes. I am the target of every evil tongue; though I am dead, they still cast poisoned darts into my heart. Wretch! I do not lament for all things so much as I tremble for the one age that waits for me. Nothing is left for me, I wander in vain, bearing only sorrows, groans, and cares. And upon these, a manifold burden of sins, the only wealth I possess in such vast abundance. I fear Your judgment and the dark Tartarus, and the murky flame and the swarm of serpents; Near Scylla, a dire Charybdis stands by. I fear both, and life just as I do death. But, O King, have mercy on me, and save me from both sides, bringing me up from there into a calm harbor. Or teach me to bear while being carried, as You will; Carrying all things with a word, may You rein in all things. O wretched soul, what have you suffered? Awaken, lest the devil, the slanderer of our life, harm you. Lest, when you are sleeping, he mingle in the seed of tares.

or disperse the boundless wealth of the virtues. ^A O wretched soul, what have you suffered? Awaken, you know the threats from the Master’s lips in your doubting heart. O wretched soul, what have you suffered? Awaken, lest the Bridegroom suddenly close the heavenly bridal chambers against you. Arise, O wretched soul, and stand, and bend your knees; shed hot tears, lament your sorrows. Be propitious to me, most merciful King, Sun of glory; be propitious, Ruler of the world; be propitious, Father of mercy. I have sinned from my birth, as much as sand and dust. And even now, I speak nothing, and I think nothing pure. But be propitious according to your saving mercy; be propitious, be propitious! I have endured much, and these things are not even worthy. The load of my sins and our disgrace—shall I dare to mention them? Not dark flames, nor earthly abysses and fierce-spirited demons, nor can even all the torments of wickedness be found there. I leave this hereafter, for those to come to inquire about the pillar that bears the inscription of our folly. ^B I am ashamed to depict these things in images. And why does it befit the tongue to be stained again with shameful words? I fear the earth, the heaven, the air, the sun, the stars, the night, the light, all the hosts, the whole house. For others, the spouse, the children, the friends, the lofty throne, the merriment of life, golden luxury, the train of slaves, houses, groves, the knowledge of kings—those things which they think kind thoughts of and speak kindly about. But for me, God alone is the sun, the boundless wealth, the unshaken hope, the whole delight of life. Awaken, O wretched soul, cast the sleep of the eyelids far away; keep the organs of doxology far from filth.

38. From the words of St. Demetrius.

39. On the thief.

40.

XLI. To the lord Nikephoros the Emperor.

XLII. To Saint Demetrios.

XLIII. To the reliquary of Saint Panteleimon.

XLIV. Wayfarer’s prayers.

By your power you guide me, along with your mighty Mother, toward good intentions—as you will, how you will, and as much as you will. Two things are hidden, Nicephorus: you, by the stone of the tomb; the living, by the stone of ignorance. ^A

46. *Of the Holy Theodore.* A contemptible hand has severed my sinews, yet the young call me to the stadium for the contests, and all the people, who love to mock, stand firm; against me they stretch their bitter tongues and thousand sidelong glances. But, O my strength, be propitious, martyr, and reach out your right hand, guiding me toward the prizes and putting an end to my pains. You know, blessed one, that I have labored; all-merciful one, come to him who calls.

47. *To Saint Theodore the Recruit.* From fire you ran into light, from famine to nectar, from a prison you ran to the heavenly chambers, from bitter tortures to the contests and incorruptible beauties. Abandoning an earthly ruler, you saw the great King [Christ]. Thus, martyr, do you rescue me from my toils and grievous cares—from the furnace, the prison, the tortures, the famine, and from the evil-counseling Pharaoh, who has brought the wretched one even to raw old age. You know the things for which one who suffers in such a way complains, despite his own good deeds.

48. *On the finding of the head of the Forerunner.* As you once revealed the spring of wonders that was dead, O lamp, and now hidden, so Christ...

49. *To the precious head.* You are the sword of the passions, the wellspring of wonders; you uttered a voice, and once cut off, you are now a source of wonders, and your head was hidden. Verily, you are the tongue of the voice and the light of the lamp.

50. Dead, you speak; and hidden, you shine, blessed one. You are truly light and the voice of the Word, a lamp.

51. *To Christ sleeping on a small boat.* Whether God or man, you sleep, but you also lulled the surge. You sleep; arise, arise, and calm the rolling of the sea. ^B

52. *To himself.* Earth, sea, and heaven are yours, my Christ, and I tread the earth daily by your commands, and I sail the sea under your governance, while I set the sail of my mind toward the heavens. But I see the voyage is full of contrary winds, and I fear the tempests, and shudder at the billows of my passions, and I tremble at the turbulence of my thoughts. How then shall I pass through and furrow the air, and escape such great assaults? And how shall I not be shipwrecked and fall into the uttermost depths of the earth, into the abyss of Tartarus, if you do not become the helmsman for my hands?

Fill the wing of the sails with your Spirit, and lead me to your very throne.

53.

Concerning the aereal army

54.

To himself

55.

Sodom and Gomorrah—there the fire flares; and there the terrifying traces of that conflagration remain. Of what sort of judgments ought one to expect to meet from thence, if one has not given a portion of the penalty here, even while living a life of luxury?

56.

57.

To himself

I did not say there would be, not even if the sun were taken away; but a demon, or God, or the savage envy of enemies, driving me to both, gave me as a plaything to the world; as Samson did to the foreigners, but as for the dead, I know by scripture they show those previously gathered together. 58. On the harlot. Christ here with precious words anoints the soul of her who anoints his feet. [alt-version omitted] The prudent harlot heals the ointment with ointment.

59. On the birth of Christ. (Thou art the breath of all, even if thou now willingly expirest). The moon brings forth, but to the contrary; from the moon is now born the Day-star. 60. On a soldier killed by an arrow. Not a brave man killed you, but a long-range arrow took away this brave and intrepid youth. How unjust you are, Mars! You who do not provide strength to the better side in yourself, how will you judge others? 61. Another. As a broad sword is good in the field, yet on the wall the arrow always prevails, this Mars proclaimed. 62. Neoptolemus was a young Christian; he lies fallen, alas—one might ask, by whose hands? The son of Peleus lay by the arrow of Paris; believe it, dead by an arrow, a Christian. I would never have said it would be, not even if the sun were taken away: the arrows of the Mysians are stronger than the lances of the Ausonians. Get you gone, trees, and baneful mountains; get you gone, birdless rocks, where the lion has shuddered to meet the hinds. When beneath the earth, O Sun, you turn your gold-bright chariot, tell these things to the great soul of Caesar: The Ister has taken the crown of Rome, take up arms quickly, the arrows of the Mysians are stronger than the lances of the Ausonians. 64. On the Cross. I spread out the heavens, I am now stretching forth my hands; I fixed the earth, now I am nailed to the wood. I caused the sea to gush forth, but now from my side I pour out for my creature these new streams. I create fire, I stretch out the air, I abandon the heat, I breathe out my spirit. What more is there for you? I dwell in the earth as one dead, until I rise again, and by willingly entering the tomb, I open heaven to you. 65. On the Archistrategos. From gold as fire, and as light from silver, I shape you; to me light, but to my enemies a flame. 66. On the Baptism. The waters of the seas, the entire depth of the abyss, I myself gathered; and my hand, through the blood [hewn] for the heavens above, opened a roof. I water the earth, but now I dip my head.

I am a new creation, and I now wash my head, and I submerge the head of the dragon; I, the Lord, bow my neck to the servant, and I lift up my creature to the heavens.

67. Epitaph for the magistros Theodorus Decapolites.

68. On the holy Apostles.

69. On the verse, "They divided my garments among them."

70. On Christ.

71. On Joel.

72. On Maleinus.

73. On the Annunciation.

74.

now is fashioned within you without a father, O Virgin. Hail, and rejoice in the Word and the Fact, says the Filius tuus, Son of God, Lord your spouse to me. Hail, you said, O Spirit—alas, the ineffable incarnation of the gracious Word! Alas, for the strange manner! A woman’s womb surpasses the vastness of the heavens.

[74.] On the Theotokos and the angels and the holy Paul and the apostles offering Chrysostom to Christ. The golden vessel brings a golden gift to You, O Christ, ^B by Paul; but your lamp, O Word, brings forth self-shining light; the fiery-breathed ones bring the spirit-breather. And the net, the sea of words, is brought by those who have snared the whole world in their words. You who are the golden fountain, receive the golden mouth, from which the golden streams of Your words, O Christ, poured out in a circle, irrigate the whole earth.

[75.] On the Tomb. Hades is struck dead, having snatched down as a corpse You, the Ruler of the dead and the living, O Word. And along with Him who breathed His last, (Life’s Guide and Lord of breath) he also ^C breathed his last. The spirit, the mind, the fire-breathing flame—how, being body, how being dust, how being mere grass, do you describe them? It is the flame of love that persuades one to write the forms of the flame. The mind sees the mind, the spirit sees fire, and the heart, immaterial, is in material things in such a place [as this].

He who encompasses the sky and the breadths of heaven, he who fills the earth and the heavens, and is the Lord of all earthly and material creatures, stands circumscribed by the form of the flesh. What is strange if the servant offers a figure ^D to matter, since he himself exists as spirit and mind?

[76.] On a crystalline likeness, or the Samaritan. From crystals [comes] the visible light of the morning star, but the reflections of the divine light flow back down into the divine minds. Crystals are mirrors of the light of the sun, but the divine minds [are mirrors] of Him who created the sun. From red and white crystal you are formed, as mirrors of the light, as flames of the fire.

[77.] On the Archstrategos. Light, spirit, mind, fire, and a flaming sword you are; to me, therefore, be light, spirit, and mind, but to my adversaries, appear as fire and sword and flame, correctly dividing the natures like a commander of the battle.

[78.] On the Samaritan woman. I made the sea to gush forth, and I spread a roof of waters over the heaven; yet now I ask for a drink, I who make the earth fruitful with streams every day.

[79.] On the Forerunner, the Theologian, and Chrysostom. The musical nightingale from the desert, the golden-wrought trumpet, and the son of thunder, John, is established both in mind and in form.

[80.] On the book of the Theologian. Here [are] the lightnings of the fire-breathing tongue, as if flowing from two sources, those above, a light for the orthodox, but a flame for the heretics. There...

[is] the trumpet, the God-struck lyre, filling both earth and heaven with the thunder of its words. There Orpheus of Christ moves the God-struck lyre; let every beast depart—let every fosterling of Christ hear the sounds.

81. On the Sponge.

82. On the Lance.

83. On the Chlamys.

85. On: "They divided my garments among them."

84. On the Swaddling Clothes.

86. On the Bonds.

87. Funerary poems on Constantine.

^A grant them to me, Virgin, together with the virgin disciple. But you, O Virgin, who were my patroness in this fleeting life, and now, place me at the right hand of the terrible Judge, together with the virgin disciple.

88. On the Holy of Holies.

89. On the Transfiguration.

90. On the right hand of the emperor Nicephorus.

91. On the church of Cyrus.

92. On Saint Basil.

93. On the Cross.

94. On Nicephorus the teacher.

95. On the church of Studius.

come, [as a virgin, O virgin].

Go, proceed, receiving light from light, Toward the pure temple, a temple made living. In one place all the beauties of the whole are gathered, Of caverns, of the sea, of the air, of the earth, and of the sky; Beholding this here, O man, do not weary of seeing. If you desire to behold all the beauties of earth together with the sky, And every precious material, Cease from traversing the many expanses of the earth, Leave off seeking the distant depths of heaven; Observe here all things run together for me, The imitation of the universe, this small house. This is air, yet the ether is in brilliance. And the pellucid smoothness of these stones Seems like another sea, without waves, As if now settled in a great calm. The gleam and whiteness of these columns, And the frequent-flashing delight of their colors, Are like a stream of melting snow, Bright, translucent, flowing silently, As if it pours down into another sea Toward the stones glittering on the floor. But the earth itself and the things of the earth, if you wish, Observe for me the variety of their colors, And the beauty of the paintings; another garden here, Written, fashioned by art, Putting forth flowers that do not wither with time. But if you desire to behold the very stars of heaven, Or the sphere of the sky itself, Stretch out your eye; and behold a portion of the sphere Above, golden, flashing forth a great light, In which every color of the marble mosaics runs together, As if forming a body joined into one, Starry or light-filled and suspended, As if the entire breadth of heaven were One all-colored star, shining alone. Be delighted, then, in seeing the whole world so beautiful. But if you were kindled into love for things above, Behold also the intelligible world in figures: Christ is this, whose throne is the bright sky; This is the Mother, of whom alone is the pure Offspring; this is the lamp, of whom the Word is light and manner; These are the flame, the mind, the spirit, the light, the fire, and the sword. I pass over the ranks of the thousand-eyed Seraphim, The Cherubim, the chariot of those breathing fire, And the other things, terrible both to speak of and to see. But if there were some mixture of opposite things, Of the whole world below and of those above, This is present, and let it be called now only, A seat of beautiful things, fitting for mortals. Tongues of fire and the crash of thunder make plain That they will fill the whole inhabited world With the fire-mouthed words of the thunder-spoken.

96. Now the light-bearer has come together with the lion, And the cicadas sing a musical song. Now also the father has hastened to join his child, And has warmed the young men to musical songs. Now also the husbandman offers the first-fruits of his labors To God with joy, and claps his hands greatly. But now, do you receive me, who am offering these small first-fruits of my words. To one there is a noble lineage in life, to another...

a noble and exalted character, to another a speech skilled in conversation, to another a hand unstained by gifts, as he boasts of being noble and proud alone. He seems to cut through the air with his wings, as the myths of the Greeks fashion Perseus. But in you, seeing all things come together, the most beautiful of the beautiful, the great star of the earth, it strives to overcome you, and what, I ask, can I say is greater? Royal are both your birth and your character, but no less so your prudence and your speech, excelling all; and a royal heart mastering passions and soul-destroying pleasures. What Aristides is better skilled in wealth? What Pericles greater in the rejection of gifts? What Rhadamanthus or Minos of Zeus would take the first prizes from you in judgment? Who is as prudent as Anaxagoras? These men, then, if it seems good, we shall leave below, because you excel them not only in each single thing, but also in all things, and in the possession of all things, and even more than all, in that you reckon nothing to be any greater. They, then, are like the dust of the sky beneath. But I cannot say what is first in you; so does the circle of your virtues surrounding me allow me to find neither beginning nor end. One thing I will say, finally, which is sufficient and alone: as the words of the wise say of the morning star, having yoked horses of equal speed in the sky to carry the light in a cycle of uniform swiftness, so in you I see the chariot of the virtues, like another fiery four-horse team of the sun, gleaming with equal balance, or rather a crown shining just like pearls of equal value. For it was necessary that the scales of justice, honoring everywhere, should be seen in these things alone as equal to your own and to yours alone.

97. On the Nativity of Christ.

98. On Sophocles.

99. On Christ, the Theotokos, the Forerunner, and the angels.

100. On the Dormition of the Theotokos.

^B Do not kindle a fire; gold, silver, and stones emit a glow without coals, like ointments. Delight the eye with the material, the reason with the art, and the perception with the scent of the ointments.

100. On the Theotokos.

101. On Saint Stephen.

102. On Saint Stephen.

103. On the Dormition of the Theotokos, from Christ.

104. Epitaphs for the Patriarch Lord Polyeuctus.

The tomb which was abhorred by all is now desirable, ^A bearing the desirable one in name and manner. You are mortal in two respects, by birth and by the tomb; you are immortal in two, by life and by labor. Whose are you, O tomb? In the night I shall tell you this, lest perhaps, upon hearing it, the sun should shine below. A single tomb carries within it all things that are useful; for one person held all things of all people in his life. You are not dead, but merely hidden by a stone; you look upon the face of God, not His back. Having stolen him in the night, do not boast in vain, Charon; this was not yours, nor was he of the fate below. You die in the night, and you elude the sun, so that, having understood the matter, it might not shine below. The son of light, having anticipated the day, found Christ, the sun, the light, the day. To what purpose is the tomb? It testifies to the deceased that he possessed nothing now save a three-cubit stone. Vain is the tomb, by its nature a witness only that the deceased does not seem a mere phantom. That which was previously hated is now a beloved tomb; for even if it is hated, it is the tomb of the beloved one. To you who are living, the body is a tomb; yet by placing it in the tomb, you now live, having hidden the tomb in the tomb. The tomb is twofold: one is of the mind, the intellect, and of all rational goods; the other is of the deceased. Even though you had nothing, you were detected, Charon, being a hoodlum and a thief, having snatched him away in the night. ^A The tomb is not the cause for all to die with you, for being three cubits in size, it cannot hide everyone.

108. To Himself

109. On Athens and Constantinople

110. On the Sages of Athens

Your honey; she [is] the words of the sophists and the wise, sweeter than honey. You [surpass] Xerxes; she has rendered all things subservient to her power, and you above all; worship the Queen.

111. On Nicaea.

112. On life.

113. On himself.

114.

and no small envy flowed from their mouths. As he was the only branch of wisdom, so was he the only leader of the militia, aptly mixing a wise mind with fortitude. But virtue, wretched generation—O base, vile, hateful generation—if it opposes wisdom, or [demands] that a wise man be effeminate, or a strong man an enemy of knowledge, these things the new legislators of wickedness command. Then, a fool myself, and twisting native laws, a fool among fools, and a madman among the insane, I suffered much and shed blood, defending the life of our people in wars; and for admiration I received laughter and obtained insults, and for blessings, mocking, and for honor, contumely.

^A 114. On Lazarus. You wept; for you are mortal. You raised the body; for you are God yourself and the life of all. Lifeless, decayed, bound with grave-clothes, he lives, he becomes young again, he leaps at a single voice. To him who is lifeless, set free, and bound in grave-clothes, give by your Word life, vigor, and release, for you are truly the Word and create all by your word.

116. On the iron rod. The rod which the prophet said was iron.

117. I know the three first pillars of science: Aristotle, Plato, Pythagoras. ^B

118. On the Theotokos. The Virgin, both in body and heart, Joannes, who had mind and body consumed by labors, has written [of], that both might be invigorated. Gold, stones of the earth; but the work is yours, O Word.

119. The delights of the earth and the splendors of those above you have mixed into one, Creator of all (for you did work together with your Nicetas [on] these things); you have placed another heaven on earth, this house—light from the stars, and from the earth, stones. What, and from what, have you taken for the beauty of the house? From the earth, indeed, the matter; but from the sphere, the art. Whose hand raised you, and for whom is the gift? It is the love of Nicetas, to the ruler of all. Not the hand of a stone-mason, nor the hands of a painter; your hand, Creator, and your art, intermingles the beauties of all things into one. The sparkle of the stones is seen as the light of the stars; the golden vault is the bright fire of the ether; the pleasant mosaic and the hue of the colors is a garden—a different one, painted with flowers. The art of the places overcomes nature; it depicts posture, and movement, and the gaze, and almost life itself, but this alone it does not have. Faith moves mountains; now I see this in works. For it is the love and passion of your servant, Nicetas... ^{C D}

and he showed the ways as if seeing them alive, and he convinced the stones to cast out lightning, and everything shared in your radiance, my Christ.

CX. On Saint Theodore

CXI. On Woman

CXII. I had a broad field of pleasures, to see, to eat, to drink, and to be delighted with song. But when I saw the pure temple of the Virgin, I thought I was treading in the middle of the bright heaven.

CXIV. On the Table companion

CXV. On Departure

And the farmers, stooping to the ground in their toil, would say: "Hope has perished, every labor is gone. These worn-out hands have achieved nothing; all things flow away, all things are burning. It [the earth] gave us beautiful hopes, it gave a beginning, but look at the growth—cut down by the scourges of drought. Who will pay the heavy burdens of debt now? Who will feed the women and children for the future, who will give the other tributes and services to the Caesar, and who will have enough for all? There is no one. But, O earth, you gape as is fitting; receive us along with these crops as we are. We shall not remain for long to be consumed by famine; I desire a swift end."

Being thus filled with sorrows and tears, I kept the field in mind as a reminder of toils, and nothing delightful charmed my mind. I saw no flower, but thorns and arrows; the cicadas did not sing to me a musical melody, nor did the swallow twitter, or the nightingales sound shrill; all things held mourning. No silvery, clear, light, and most pleasant fountain flowed, offering a cool bath and drink, and murmuring beautifully to lead me, as I reclined near, into sweet sleep. No soft and verdant turf ^A provided a suitable bed, free from labor. The whole adornment of the earth had been shorn away, as if someone had cropped the grass, the leaves of the trees, and all the beauty of the flowers. For the sun, looking down with intense midday heat, and casting its rays upon the moistureless and dried-up fields, was trenching them with stones. And the sky was all of bronze, white-hot, sending forth frequent leaps of stars like thunderous, spark-filled flames. It was not a Scythian fire that was consuming the West, but the fire of heaven, and Providence, and justice, burning up the earth defiled by lawless envies, robberies, acts of looting, vain oaths, strange interminglings, ^B unspeakable deeds, and snares of guile.

Thus gloomy and deeply saddened, having passed through the twentieth day of the moon, I resolved to return to my homeland, carrying a load of calamities and toils. But having stretched and prepared my mind, I heard new things: fire, in the middle of midday, strangely ignited in the midst of my homeland, to demonstrate a small part of the punishment of Sodom. For that terrible fire—O the horror of justice!—had not devoured the huts of farmers, nor farmers themselves, nor trees and soil, nor even two villages; but men well-nurtured and well-born, ^C children, infants, women, preeminent youths, houses most vast, most beautiful, and wealth-bearing, most beautiful temples and greatest estates, vessels of gold, gold-stitched purple, amber in its entirety, a mass of silverware, and the beauty of pearls that had been taken away, and a multitude of spices beyond measure, and garments and wealth, and uncountable myriads of fruits, and seas of melted lead, and the brightness of pearls burned up: not yet had all things been told ^D

and a terrible word was just being joined to word, and a misery of disasters had overtaken many, and the land that had borne them had become a pitiable grave. With what eyes, I said, shall I see my country dead and lying prone, and only bearing the images of calamities? How shall I endure seeing a beauty laid waste, such great beauty, and the remains of the dead left unburied? Shall I not pray that the earth might gape for me, and that instantly, into a deep abyss? Or how shall I sustain the groans, the laments, the many sufferings of friends, and their tears? Thus, my reason being divided in two—between the bitter plight of the fields and the misery of the country—I reckoned that the fields held fewer evils, and I chose them as the lesser of the two, and preferred the fields.

126. On the Greek Wars.

127. On Xenophon.

128. On young philosophers.

129-130. On himself.

131. On the Queen Helen.

132. On the icon of the Savior.

133. On a tomb.

134. On the crucifixion.

135. On the Archstrategos.

136. On the finding of the head of the honorable Forerunner.

137. On his own father.

138. On his own teacher.

139. On Theon the philosopher.

140. On the temple of the Savior.

^A And he has set this building as a heaven, 4. But these are not the work of hands, do not believe it. Others: These are not the work of hands, let no one imagine; But Christ descends from heaven with his friends, Surpassing the mind and word of Nicephorus. The heaven shines with stars and a luminous planet, It holds the first rewards of beauty. But now in this building, as it were another planet, I see Christ himself, and his ministers and friends Surrounding her, like most beautiful stars; He judges the second place against himself. The ether of the heaven, the stars, the moon, the sun— But of the building, the Savior, the angels, the Mother, the friends. What equality is there to these? What comparison? You have found your defeat, O heaven, yet worship. Either Christ descends from heaven into this building, Or the heaven itself has set this building. But rather both: he has descended with his friends, And has set the building as a new heaven. There was a struggle of beauty; the heaven hoped to conquer with the stars, The lightning ether asked for the rewards. But when the building presented only the Lordly, Splendor, the heavenly beauties were extinguished like a lamp. The shining stars, and the constellations, and the moon, O heaven, I know you possess them, most brilliant one. But when I gaze upon this choir and the golden circle, You appear small, I say, both you and the sun.

141. On an accurate image of the Christ and his friends.

142. On life.

143. Prayer.

Seeing the sun, and the soil and dust, I happen to be envied by my foes, As filth unapproachable, made useless, Whom the priest passed by, or the Levite? ^C For if he passed by, now he has ground me down further, And having trampled and insulted the whole, He left me naked, wretched, alone. For if he passed by and merely insulted me, Now he stands near and mocks my lot, He leaps, he claps, he rejoices, he guffaws loudly. And I, mute, bereft, O Word, of word, of reason, Of lips and of heart, Lie as one dead. Look upon me with mercy, O Word. Open your ear, turn your eye toward me alone, Your heart, may you not despise me, your own creature; ^D Crying out I have fainted: Do not delay, my Christ; Nor you in turn, Virgin, Lady, Mother, Maiden, My queen, my hope, my salvation.

144. To the most holy Theotokos at the gate.

145. On the reliquary of St. Panteleimon.

146. On the supplication of the Theotokos, the Forerunner, and St. Nicholas.

147. On the royal inscription in cinnabar.

148. On himself.

149. Concerning God.

150. On certain persons seized by night as if by the moon.

151. On the baptism.

Poem CXLI - CXLIII

^A watching the sun, and earth and dust, Envied by enemies, a man of woes, By filth rejected, thrust aside, ^B Did the priest pass by, or the Levite? If he passed, now he allows nothing more, And having trampled and mocked [him] entirely, Left him naked, wretched, alone. If he only trampled and mocked [him], Now standing by, he laughs at my fortune, He leaps, he claps, he rejoices, he laughs aloud. But I, deaf, deprived, O Word, ^C Of word, of reason, of lips, and of heart, Lie dead. Propitious to your own, O Word: "Open your ear, turn your eye but once, Your heart, do not see me rejected." Crying out, despairing: "Do not delay, Christ! Do not, Virgin, Sovereign, Mother, Maid, My queen, my hope, and my salvation."

Carmen CXLIV

^{D A} On the

holy Virgin at the gate.

Carmen CXLV

^B On the

urn of Saint Panteleimon.

Poem CXLVI

On the

supplication of the Theotokos, of the Forerunner, and of Saint Nicholas.

Carmen CXLVII - CLI

147. On the imperator's inscription and cinnabar.

148. On himself.

149. On God.

150. On those who wander by night, as if by moonlight.

151. On the baptism.

^A From the middle of the night of delightful fate. But, O entirely governing, all-merciful One, all your lamentation into my hollow breast, O sweet One. I know who you are. With streams of graces you cleanse all stains, and you clothe me with light more than the sun. My lips will never cease to speak your glory, nor will stone hide these things inscribed; and I shall leave to subsequent generations a new hymn, of the greatness of your bowels and of your mercy. All you glorious ranks of the heavenly hosts, all you champions superior to my heart; heralds of the immaculate childbearing of the great God, the twelve of the Lord’s far-sounding companions; chorus of mystics, most desirable tribes of priests, race of solitary ones, antagonists of wickedness; whom I have loved in my heart, and hidden within my soul, now that I am beseeching, now hear me quickly. I beseech you by the Trinity, and I beseech you again, I beseech you for all our hope. I sigh bitterly, I bend my bruised knees, I pour out hot tears, offering my heart as well. Yes, stand by as helpers, my shield, strength, hope, to fulfill our Queen as propitious, the Mother Virgin, the only-bearing, the all-queen, the bride without marriage, the most pure spouse. I beseech you by the Trinity, and I beseech you again, the skillful charioteer of our lives, the guide of a life much tossed, a ship bearing all the hopes of the heavenly and the earthly. ^D Nay, be moved by prayers, and calm the rising waves of troublesome cares and passions; the upheavals of this life, in shameful deeds, and the burden of the insults of my troublesome body. For my light has perished, and my noble strength has perished; the vigor and the courage of my heart have perished. The strength of my right hand has perished, the iron has severed the nerves, cheeks, head; the war has taken everything. Nothing remains to me; I have found neither grace nor speech. Neither prince, nor powerful man, nor city, for whom I have often poured out blood as water, has praised me. But, O Trinity, save me, our Queen. I do not mourn so much for all these things, though pained, as I do for the insults of the most hostile words. Where is your God? says one; he turned away his eyes, O wicked one. Another calls it an expiation and not wickedness; he harvests my fortitude on the other hand, calling it madness, as much as he says I was imprudently reckoned among the soldiers. Everyone mocks, and praise is turned into insult; and it is not considered envy—O the pain!—but pity. Another strikes the stout-hearted man with darts of words, and calls the warrior a destroyer of all and of nations. Another taught that wisdom is unwarlike, and cowardly; he says that wisdom must be of a life that does not war. He says it is impossible for eminent men to initiate noble counsels and to wage war. He cut away the manliness of wisdom, and to a foolish one alone...

he gives the glory for every contest. He discarded David, that divinely-guided prophet, the primary model of wisdom and courage. There is no one who cites great Moses as a sufficient model—the commander of an army, the commander of wisdom. For forty years he endured, and only then did he take up the reins of the people and lead them wisely. Renowned was Theodore, best of the courageous, conspicuous in both rhetoric and the prowess of war. Demetrius of Thessaly was another warrior-prince—but a great champion of the Trinity through his own lips. I pass over those men skilled in secular wisdom, and that illustrious company of heroic rhetoricians—those learned in all the teachings of wisdom and in the deeds of mighty wars. Yet, on the contrary, these things bring utter disgrace upon me, and I loosen the ancestral laws of mighty Rome. But judge, judge, dear Trinity! And if you should find one who does wrong, add then the most expansive hope. From my birth, ever weeping, I have cast my eyes toward you, and I have never turned my pupils to any other power; may your offspring, crying out day by day, cast away the many disgraces from me upon the long day. Bestow the inherent pity of your immeasurable sea; with all things, you pour forth boundless pity. In dread have I fared toward you; be merciful, you who alone have been the sole adversary ^B of such many sufferings. Take pity on my orphanhood, and because no one has ever turned me away from my grief with honeyed words—not one of my parents felt pity for me; alas, to what lengths I have come, and I heard bitter things from my kin. My relatives murmured and rejected me: I found my friends to be worse than my most bitter enemies. But you, Father, are my only one, and you are my only tender Mother; I was nourished by your hope from my earliest moments. You are my strength, my reason, my manliness, my power, my sun, my home, my ward, my twofold nature, my immeasurable wealth. Virgin Queen, you have seen the boundless flame reaching even to the heavenly clouds; my indefatigable hope, you alone have placed me in a state of endurance; in you, Maiden, is my faith, and your love ^C has supported me. Through you, may the Trinity be merciful, so that this suppliant speech may travel from my lips to the ears of the Trinity. Before your feet I have placed all things, and have cast away all my twofold hopes; I shall repeat the first things again. You are my arm, my eye, my light, my mind, my inexhaustible strength, my comfort of life, my spirit, my life, and my reason; you are a memory ever sweet, a sound pleasant to the ears, a rampart always greater than a shield that protects men. Virgin Queen, trusting in you I shall cross even the wild swell, and I shall escape from the midst of the fire. Virgin Mother of a noble birth, I speak of you, giving birth to the Word; against the man-slaying beasts, against the foreign-tongued men, O Virgin, trusting in you I shall cross even the vast mountains, fearless ^D in the clouds, like a winged eagle.

^A O Virgin, trusting in you, I shall not fear the countless nations of the world, but shall stand firm of heart. O Virgin, trusting in you, I shall strike terror into the savage races of giants and their mighty soldiers; I fear no iron; in vain, O winged arrows, do you assail a skin made robust by skilled archers. O Virgin, through faith in you, I shall leap into the midst of the flame of Belial and stand unharmed. O Virgin, the savage demons who tremble before you will not think me vile or cast me down. They did indeed fall, but you raised me up from on high, and if I still lie prone, you extend your hand and do not allow me to be trampled. O Virgin, I tremble before you, and all things that lie within your bosom fill me with dread, both aspects of life: praise, reproach, disgrace, glory, riches, health, disease, insolence, poverty, wisdom, and folly, strength, weakness, confidence, fear, contempt and splendor—all these things for those who stand and for those who fall. What more is there? Through you, O God, my height and the ultimate end of all good things—this I possess as my reward, if I possess you, O Virgin. Therefore, above all else I call upon you, O inviolate Maiden, though I touch your knees with unclean hands; with lips not pure I invoke you, the most pure. I tremble as I behold your name and your image. ^B But respect your friends, and have regard for the blood poured forth in abundance by your holy champions and the tears from their eyes. Have regard also for those other choirs, clad in black, the chaste, the earthly image of the angelic life, who surround you, countless, one after another, shedding hot tears for our misfortunes. And especially have regard for my noble progenitor, O Maiden, he who took me from a patrician womb; my Theodore, the spear, the shield, the bow, and the stout helmet and the doubly-sharpened sword, and the speech flowing of its own accord, more than the burning streams of snow, and the mouth, and the hand, and the courage in wars; him who baptizes with water, and him who was baptized in pure blood, whose name I bear—O wretched me, how I am defiled! And the princes of the heavens, those flaming circles that encompass the earth—these, O Virgin, you have established; grant a throne in justice. I offer round the riches of the bowels of your Son, similar to them. These things fail me, O Virgin; grant strength to them. I have sinned from my birth, as much as sand and dust, and I have violated your laws, O inviolate one, nor did I set your words before my passions; behold, I have even cast to the winds the oaths of our covenant. I have received countless gifts, and what things have I seen! I did not repay the injuries of my adversaries with injuries.

CLIV. On Saint Romanos the Melodist

CLV. On a deer pursued and fleeing to the sea, and captured by fishermen

hoping to have a stepmother better than my mother. A fisherman killed me—O shame!—not a hunter, nor a dog pursuing me, but a net holds me. Nor did justice judge unjustly. For why did I leave the friendly land, for the sake of hunters alone?

156. On the necklace. The beauty of the necklace makes the one who wears it shine in a wondrous way like gold.

157. On the theologians. The knowledge of beings, Gregory now beholding.

158. The men of old sacrificed sheep and oxen, but I will sacrifice a word to Christ the Word; mind to mind, spirit to spirit—the three.

159. On those who slander. Cyrus was a Persian, Alexander a Macedonian, Caesar an Ausonian (Roman), yet they were friends of wise men; and the wise were full of teachings. Now... they blame knowledge, alas for the bitter fate!

160. Hear these things, earth, sea, and sky, O spirits of the wise and of the commanders of old! Isocrates defined strength and mind; Thucydides mingled arms and speech; Pericles was an orator and a commander, as were Cimon, Alcibiades, and the great Themistocles; both were perfect, Phocion was a bastion of oratory. Ten thousand other Greeks were leaders in strength. Famous Plato established tactics as the first of sciences; Socrates, of the brave, held the first place. All the heroes were utterly polished: Nestor, Odysseus, but Achilles was even more keen to observe the natures of all things, the motion of the stars and the plague through the air, and he was skilled in rhythmic harmony, and he was a physician, and a pupil of the Centaur. But the wise men of today—except that I call them fools—have said that knowledge is an obstacle to courage. It is not syllogisms and the divisions of an army—I say what is greater—not such great dangers; not a face full of many wounds; not a hand that has excelled and been severed. Let someone be finely clothed, well-arranged, mostly composing his hair becomingly, lifting his eyebrows and puffing out his chest greatly, and bearing his head like a tent fashioned in the manner of the nations; doing what he ought not, and speaking like a beast—a hare to the strong, but a wolf to the weak; suffering from much ignorance, eloquent, loquacious, disorderly, a plunderer, often a foreigner, a worker of unspeakable things, the very filth of all life. This man holds the first place among the brave; this man is a commander, sharp, ingenious, a leader, an upright counselor, pleasant in social gatherings; a ruler of commanders, the first in the kingdom. But virtue and knowledge sit in corners, gloomy and neglected, lamenting bitterly, not themselves, but the fate of the times.

For these are by nature honorable, and they are lamented by strangers; they lament the royal city itself, the scepters of Rome, and the noble works of the Romans fallen into the dust; and they lament the venerable cities, alas! being trampled by the nations in an unseemly manner, and the glory that flourished for so many ages, and the sinews of the commander severed. And they ^A laugh at them, both the wooden-legged philosophers and the houses that have been established for the new sages. Let every wise man be a coward, if he will, living the life of a hare—tongue and belly only; a man of action, a servant, and a procurer of wealth; in words a praiser of courage, and mindful of ancient virtue, but in deeds running the opposite way to it. And if someone else takes up the courage of the wise—for I know it to be a gift of God alone—he is an irregular, breaking the laws of the sages. Alas for the ignorance! Alas for the envy! Alas for both! Sons of men, how long will you be mad? For either one must not write down courage among the worthy things, or one must not allow those who possess the good to be without it. It is a wise thing to the wise, even to desire this, that the mind should lie far from virtue; but I say that perfect virtue is manliness, prudence, and victory over pleasures. And what is fairness? An equal mixture of virtues, which is what is just and is called so by those of old. I hate a sophist who is not wise for himself, nor possesses the things by which a wise man is recognized. ^B If you are not able to join courage with reason, why do you unceasingly envy those who possess both? Why, O man, do you deprive knowledge of strength? Why do you cast the reins to the ignorant? Why do you make the cities food for the barbarians? Why do you cut the sinews of an army nurtured by many old and beautiful strategies, and by the inventions and crafts of the wise? Why do you, man, appearing wise, now pass over Euripides' judgment of commanders, having preferred the prudence of the mind over courage? For neither is left behind by the other. Why then do they call Athena Pallas? And why? Was not Apollo a musician and an archer? And what was Achilles? Was he not first in theory, and a musician who sang the glories of men? And was he not a physician and a student of the Centaur? And what was Odysseus? Was he not flowing with wise words? And who achieved more in intensity? I pass over the Pylian, sweeter than honey, and the twofold nature of the son of Atreus, from whom the heroes are named, speaking well and saying things skillfully. Socrates was the wisest of all men; he stood often at the very shield, and was the first to take the prize of the brave. Plato was an athlete, and Aeschylus a warrior. Therefore, is not the leader of commanders and of rhetoricians—or rather of the wise—he who alone dissolves oracles, and by his designs and battles conquers the whole earth or laws? [Themistocles.]

^B He persuades even those unwilling to conquer their friends; he overcomes the Persians in a wondrous way, by land and sea, every nation, every city, and by the daring of his soul and the prudence of his mind subdues them; and he, the famous one, obtains respect from his enemies, and is buried in their hearts. And it is a miracle, how one body and one soul were shown to be superior to the whole world, through great courage, and prudence, and battle.

What of Pericles, Alcibiades, and Cimon, those firm golden columns of Athens, those leaders of speech, those princes of oratory, who perceived nature? These geometers illuminated Greece with works and words; they conquered by horses, by ships, by footmen. These Greeks filled the whole sea and the whole earth with glory, with trophies, with virtue, with arts. Yet all these things were, by all means, the grace of God, whose are the prudence, whose the speech, from whom they also obtained the gifts of manliness.

But you, O Macedonian, how are you judged wise, even while being a fighter? And why do you begrudge the art to all others? Why do you alone wish to possess the wise labyrinths of Aristotle? First monarch, Caesar, is it enough for you only to speak wondrously, to write "Anticato"s, to occupy yourself with books, to search into the nature of all things? Why also do you wage war and force every nation, and hold numberless cities in a short time, and fix the boundaries of the Ausonians at Gades? Is it not right that the unbelievers—and the believers as well—should flourish in all good works and words? ^C But come, tell us how God judged; whom does He show as leader of His own mighty portion and desired army? Is it not he who had been written of in speech for a long time, and who had gathered in himself all good education? Moses, truly the great one, who dwelt with the Egyptians, the first and most beautiful of [these] teachings, the ratios of numbers, the theory of geometry, the revolutions of the stars, the definitions of rhythmic melodies, which comprises and perfects every beauty? ^D These are ancient things; they say that all that is beautiful is ancient, and nothing new is beautiful and noble. But to suppress these is not fitting—and for what reason? Is it not permitted to write henceforth as of old? Does nothing appear as excellent in speech as it happened previously, nor as the best in battles? Have the arts vanished? For they were discovered by mortals long ago. Has temperance altogether departed from life? Pursue every virtue, which long ago lifted many to a great height, having left these as ancient types. Looking to these, if one should desire [to live] the life of beauty, he draws from thence, even if he should write things second-best.

But you, prophet and king, how do you boast more of knowledge than everyone? Do you not hold the first places among the valiant? How do you interpret the laws, if any other also searches out and investigates the word, [concerning] these things that are seen...

and you revolve many theories in your mind? You exercise your tongue by night and throughout the entire day upon divine works; you are a musician, and you have demonstrated rhythmic harmony, by your words searching out the hidden depths of God and of the creatures of God? And how have you composed, like a bee [forming] a honeycomb, the most wise book, from which all knowledge flows as from a fountain—of God, of the Cherubim, of the angels, of the archangels, of all spirits, of these visible forms, of changes, of virtue, of sin, of fortune, of the intellect, of life and the end of mortals, of light, and of the darkness of demons, of passions, of the wondrous union of the Lord with the earth, and of your immaculate Virgin Mother, things all ineffable and higher than words? But now [there are] the rapines of military commanders, and drunkennesses, in which you will say it is not proper for good men to participate. What has this to do with the matter? The words are apart. Another thing is being a soldier, and another thing is the military art. This one is evil; but the best [art] by nature is medicine, the savior; yet often a doctor has turned out to be a murderer; do not blame the art. The harm is not of the thing, how could it be? it is of the persons. Often some orator has hurt the laws; do not therefore blame the skill of rhetoric. Otherwise, let him consort with the wicked as a wicked man. But I count as the only [true] warriors those whom I know to possess the skill; and likewise musicians [who know how to] strike the lyre, and those who know how to strike this well, and those who provide the theory of the notes, and not [necessarily] those who carry the lyre in their hands. As also with horsemen, with geometricians, with every art, with statue-makers, with carpenters, with stonemasons, each one, where he has possessed the knowledge alone. And these things, indeed, the mind has darted forth in vain. But rather that is the most sound reason, as your own discourse shows, [that it is] not advantageous for those who lack education to hold the reins of the nations and of the army. For if, when such as these are in control, every evil holds sway—drunkenness, tyranny, rapines, slaughters, violence, ^B defeats, massacres, imprisonment, captivity—it is clear that, when their opposites are in control, every good will rule: temperance, probity, excellence of character, prudence, strength for labors, skill against enemies, good organization of ranks, victories, triumphs, glory, the Roman empire; and above all, the benevolence of God toward all, which shall also be for me a seal of these stammerings. Let other matters concern the sophists.

161–162. On the Spring

Christ, O King, who hast just now caused the bloom-flowering and much-desired spring to shine forth from the dark winter as a timely flower. And all things have ascended from the earth as from a tomb, having just now returned with a new breath to the light; everything ^C is adorned and blooms, as the world…

and indeed the lily—an image ^A more excellent than the things of heaven—the sky with shining stars, the earth with beautiful flowers, the highest ether, and birds appearing just now. The sea with purple tranquility, and other swimming creatures. Now the sun has equipped his gold-wheeled chariot; he himself flies from the east to the western goal, high, splendid, noble, pleasant, warm, fruit-bearing, rose-fingered, swift, and sharp. Now all the stars too are conspicuous, and all are swift, and easily manifest and pleasant for all to behold. Many things have appeared which were hidden before, and they offer a suitable name for ships, for lamps, and for travelers. Now also the moon with golden horns, like a bride coming forth from the bridegroom's chamber, having received the full light, rises proudly, and glories in many stars ^B attending her on either side, and above the northern chariot she heads toward the Ocean, lovelorn, beautifully colored, and gentle; no dark, shadowy cloud wraps itself around her, dulling her beauty and hiding it in a wild way. Now the vast ether is spread wide and open to view, white-clad, saffron-robed, fragrant, shining to the eyes. Now zephyrs blow upon the flowers and a sweet scent from the winds brings delight to the nostrils; they speak of great and manifest joy. Now the earth has crowned itself with green grass, and from its sides, the timely, pleasant birth has advanced. Just now, like a girl from the bridal chamber, the rose has appeared from the calyxes, a delight to the eye. And a scent for the nostrils and soft dew for the hands ^C came to be, a chorus equal in number to the wings of the white-clad Seraphim. It displayed golden heads like wands. Like a scepter of royalty encircling the middle, well-throned, fiery, excelling/others in three lines, as if showing forth the transcendent Triadic form. Just now the blue-gleaming, fragrant lily flowers, and the purple hyacinth, like a well-haired girl, has loosed its beautiful hair for the joy of the eyes; and the soft narcissus leaped from the ground, delightful; and the sweet-colored, gold-blossomed crocus, and the anemone. Every where grace has been laid about—the trees rise up their necks, and with green leaves they make melody; a certain sweet whispering ^D mixes with the murmurs of the spring; soon too in the shady grove a bird singing mixes with both a third, multi-shaded song. The halcyon mixes its song with the sea waves, as they reach out and embrace the shore. The swallow, full of song, pours out a tireless voice, and in the morning addresses those in the nests like a girl. The melodious song of Procne trickles down at the same time, shifting through the groves with variety, and it never ceases. The swan, stretching its lyre-delighting neck on the banks of the river, and filling its wings with the zephyr, like a singer of the Spirit, with a well-sounding lyre, and playing well with its fingers, presses out a beautiful, air-wandering, lovely melody—being itself both the singer and the pipe. And the breast-singing cicadas on the branches possess a very great...

^C store of deep-voiced songs, pouring out their melody to the tuneful song. The lambs dance around them, and the shepherd plays sweetly upon his pipe. The ewe-sheep are heavy with their wool, the goatherd is jubilant with his goats, and the neatherd has fled beneath the shady plane-tree, beside the cold water flowing along its silvery channel. Now the sailors navigate, and travelers go upon their way: some, striking the silvery and purple backs of the sea and leaping upon the breezes, direct the ships' sails, and with oars—like feet—cutting the sea-path toward the city's beautiful harbor; others, amidst the winds breathing around and cooling them, hear the cicadas chirping pleasantly, and the birds, variegated in voice, singing sweetly in the leaves, along with the pleasant streams of the fountains. Now an armed warrior, like some bright star, shines brilliantly and guides his chariot with grace; he dances about his horses, sharpening his sword, as it were, for close combat—his heart breathes courage, and he leaps ^D with fury. And how could I be silent about you, O bee, or about your gifts? Now the army, self-bidden, is dispatched skillfully onto the flowers as if unto cities, and returns bringing pleasant burdens, like plunder, and they deposit them expertly before their leader; and as they settle others upon others, they fashion all-wise works, the myriad beauties of the honeycomb, storing the sweet gifts of honey in their cells—a boundless wealth, a remedy for the human race, a sustenance—an exquisite, pure, and most kingly sustenance above all others. But what to me are these things, O Christ, King and Word, the Mightier One, you who govern the designs of the world with great reason? What is the word for the sweet spring, or the word for the spring-flowering things? All things have run from the dead to the light-bringing dawn; everything has flourished, everything rejoices: heaven, sun, stars, the waters to those who sail, the earth to those who walk, the air to the birds; and all things, having bloomed again, have obeyed your commands. But your servant alone is groaning, mourning a thousand wounds; I am a living corpse, overcome by many sorrows. For me, the light has perished, the noble strength has perished, the vigor of the body has perished, and the charming youth has perished. My speech has perished, my lips are closed in silence. Destroyers carry off my possessions by force, one man rushing from one place, another from another, for the readiest plunder. But who could endure those who cast forth missiles, and the arrows of a free-ranging tongue, the many-poisoned darts of malice coming from all sides, ^A both open and secret, by night and day after day? Of all these things I do not mourn and grieve so much as of one, which has set me in my woe-ridden old age to weep for my ill-fated soul, O Blessed One—an unhappy soul, which, like a tree once stretched out upon the earth, a tree with high, thick leaves standing beside an unblemished spring, did not fear the violence of the winds, yet the force of the evil-breathing spirit cast it down from the roots, and with waters that were not good, like the calamities of this life—the ill-fated Belial, ever stirring up the din of war, a serpent with a bitter sting, dark-natured, a craftsman of death. But me, O King, my mind, my strength, my sun, my power, my life, my honor, my arms, my beauty, my reason, my grateful hope, wake me and raise me up, let your word quickly reach my ears ^B that are dead and putrefied, and, like...

a fawn, swift and vigorous, I shall run, robust, handsome, graceful, and sweet, adorned with all manner of virtues, skilled in all things. ^B Your mother, the Virgin, desirable, suppliant, and pure, I invoke upon my knees; accept her, O Blessed One, and have mercy upon me, O Word.

METAPHRASIS OF THE CANTICLES. CANTICLE I.

CANTICLE II.

The Father will say these things to you, he who is ancient as the elder Adam once scattered his offspring, divided the nations, and fixed the boundaries—some to one set of angels, some to others as overseers; but He himself kept as his own portion alone Israel, the measuring line, the race of Abraham. An eye was watching him, keeping guard; he showed him a flowing fountain in the waterless land; he stood round about him as a shield; he kept him as the pupil of an eye. As an eagle with wings well spread, he took them up, he carried them over his shoulders—gold-like, as he loved them like fledglings. He brought them into a land filled with power; he filled the bitter mouth with many delights. He caused oil and honey to gush from the rock; the good curd of cattle, the milk of flocks, of lambs, and of kids, the fat of young calves. The pleasant blood of the grape, the strength of the wheat, they had as food; they luxuriated in all things for all. Being filled, Jacob kicked out greatly, like someone well-fed, as one broad and great; as a horse rushing, he turned aside from God. He turned to ravines and gorges and rocks; he sacrificed to petty gods, alas! and to fresh gods, to abominable gods, whom they had not known before. Abandoning the One who bore you and who brings you salvation, you made gods out of those who bore their error. The fearful eye saw and it is very jealous; filled with anger, it said, "I will turn away my face from those who have turned their minds; a fire has been kindled, anger has been raised and it shall burn, and it shall consume the earth, both the fruits and the depths of the earth, and I will gather every evil against them in haste; I shall empty every arrow of my quiver. ^A By famine shall you be consumed, and you shall be food for birds; an evil race, full of the beast, you shall be cut down by the bitter swords of those who wound you. I will send against them savage beasts; outside, swords; in the inner rooms, terrors; together with the virgin, the youth, and with the old man, the babe drawing milk." I said, "I will scatter you, I will make you nameless, unless on account of the wrath of insane barbarians, who prolong the time, they do not utterly destroy you, and they boast, and speak great things, 'Our hand has done these things, and not the Lord'." For it is a foolish and perverse nation. But in the future these things will come to pass swiftly. For how shall one man pursue a thousand, and how shall two alone put to flight ten thousand? Unless God has sold them to disgrace, and delivered them into the hands of adversaries. For their gods are in no way equal to the Only One. You are senseless, you have raged, O foreign nations, to whom the vine is of Sodom and Gomorrah, a grape of gall, a cluster full of bitterness, wine that is the wrath of dragons, the poison of vipers. ^B Have I not gathered these things and sealed them for myself, and do all things not lie stored up now? In the day of vengeance they shall pay these things. The time is near, the sword is sharpened, the bow is bent, and the arrow is on the string. The Lord shall judge them, and He shall have compassion upon his servants, and He shall behold the things which He has given to his own.

In the day of justice they shall pay these things. The time is near, the sword is sharpened, the bow is bent, and the arrow on the string. The Lord shall judge them, and to his servants, He shall cast a glad eye upon those who tremble. For He saw them strangely debilitated, and despairing and failing; beholding them, He said: Where are the gods and friends in whom they trusted, and concerning whom they boasted greatly? For the fat of their sacrifices, and for the nature of their libations, which they possessed in abundance as a sweet food and drink; let these become allies and protectors! Know that there is no God save me; there is none, even if you run through both earth and heaven. I am the dispenser of death and of breath; I strike, and I also place the remedy for wounds. Who shall snatch you from my hands that hold the earth, the heaven, and the things below? I lift my hand to the height, and I swear this: I live, and I endure beyond all ages; and I am rather the life and the breath of all. I shall set my sword as a flash of lightning, and my hand shall grasp the [judgments]; I shall flay the rebels with scourges, I shall make my arrows drunk with the blood of mortals, and my sword [shall be fed] upon their bodies. ^B Thus, since the Lord has now waged war, the ether exults, and heaven with the angels; and worship the Creator, all creatures; rejoice, O nations, O inheritance, O sons of the Lord.

ODE III

As "my heart is strengthened in the Lord, and my horn is lifted up in God, and my mouth is dilated, and it prevails against mine enemies. There is no Lord save Thee alone; there is no one righteous as Thou art, my God alone." Seeing these things, therefore, let everyone avoid vainglorious words, neither bring them forth from his lips, nor take on pride in mind or in heart. For this God is the Lord of knowledge, and arts are ready for the artificer of all things. The bow of the mighty has been weakened unto the end, but the weak are girded with strength. A sterile womb brings forth seven, but another, previously fruitful, is now childless. Those who were once filled hunger for bread; those who were once hungry have left the earth out of satiety. ^B God is the dispenser of both death and breath; He strikes down to Hades, and draws back to the light; He exalts, He humbles, making poor and making rich; He raises the needy from the earth’s dung-heap; He wakes the poor, and turns all things in a circle; He seats the lowly on the thrones of princes; and He fulfills the prayers and blesses the times of the righteous. A robust man does not grow strong by his own might, but God tramples his adversary. Let no one, therefore, by mind, by wealth, or by force, being wise, powerful, or rich, boast loudly; all things flow, all things turn. The fear of God alone is the stability in life; the possession of virtue is not consumed by time. The Lord has ascended into the heavens, He thunders mightily, from the extremities of the earth He is the highest fountain with justice. He is worshipped. Hannah, Samuel’s mother, of thanksgiving.

^A

Ode IV He will provide power to those who hold dominion; And He will raise the horn of His anointed up to heaven. The prince of light, as he rode downward, The moon of the celestial sphere stood before his rays.

for Thy law is a light to mortals, O Word. You who dwell on the earth, know the just judgment. For behold, every impious man who learns not justice, nor knows any right work and word upon earth, has reached the end of his wicked deeds. Christ has flashed forth; let every impious man depart, that an impure eye may not see the pure glory. When Thy arm was strong, my Christ, and the workers of wickedness knew it not; but knowing it, they lament, and with shame, zeal shall seize the brutalized people. And fire shall consume the adversaries as food. O Thou who hast given every good thing, grant peace; quickly restore Thy workmanship, O Creator; we know no other Lord but Thee alone. Since the dead shall not breathe again, nor shall physicians save the dead from the tomb, against whom You shall advance, and destroy, and take away all their stirrings ^A and bring them down into the grave. To the mighty ones of the earth bring forward terrible things, my Christ; they look to Thee trembling with fear; Thy corrective rod is for a slight awe. As she who is giving birth has pangs and distress, a sharp and piercing thing stings, she cries aloud. And in the same way Thy inheritance has been established; it has conceived Thy fear in the womb of the heart, it was in travail, it brings forth the spirit of salvation. Not every one who looks upward shall fall to the ground; they shall fall who are attached to this earth; the dead shall breathe, and the inhabitants of the ancient monuments shall leap forth upon the stones. And the whole creation shall be filled with joy. Thy dew is a healing for all mortals; the dwelling of the impious alone shall fall.

Ode VII. From the fish Jonah cried out as follows:

^A

CARMEN CLXVII - hymn. The dew of the furnace, the praise of the three.

O Trinity, accept as intercessors Thy Israel—three, O Trinity—those who call upon Thee. For blessed, laudable, and full of glory art Thou, O God, who wast seen before by the fathers, O God powerful, terrible, and full of mercies. Thou art righteous in all things, and all Thy judgments are righteous, and every way is straight, and every deed looks toward the truth. And now Thou hast brought all things upon us with justice; upon us and upon Thy thrice-blessed city, the city powerful, the fatherland of Thy most beloved. We pay Thee many penalties for our transgressions, for we have turned away, we have been seen as rebels against Thee, trampling underfoot the laws given to us by Thee; we did not acknowledge them, nor did we turn to Thy commandments, nor did we in our hidden hearts concur with the things that should be done. Because of which Thou hast justly shot forth an arrow. Thou hast brought all things upon us, everything Thou hast brought with judgment; Thou hast delivered us into the hands of the most hostile enemies, faithless, lawless, and bloodthirsty; into the hands of a terrible and most tyrannical king, one who surpasses all the earth in wickedness. ^B It is not possible for us, therefore, to open our mouth; we have stood before all Thy righteous servants as scorn, laughter, reproach, shame, and filth. Do not, therefore, deliver us unto the end of the scourge; do not scatter Thy oaths into the air, and do not remove Thy pity utterly. Be moved by Thy petition and Thy nature through Abraham; for the love of Isaac, and for Thy servant Israel, the three, O Trinity; for whom Thou hast spoken that their seed should be multiplied as the sand of the sea and the stars of the heaven. Because, O King, we are reduced to straits, small, humble, wretched, cast out by every nation, and set apart from all the earth by many scourges, as by our sins. There is no ruler, nor prophet, nor any shepherd, judge, priest, or commander; there is no incense, oblation, or sacrifice; there is no temple, nor altar, where one might sacrifice an acceptable offering, and bend the knee down, and draw down Thy pity immediately. But instead of many sacrifices, accept these: a humble soul, a contrite spirit, fountains flowing with tears; just as if they were myriads of bulls and goats, skipping lambs, and fat young calves—so accept and receive from us these bloodless sacrifices as delightful gifts. For shame shall not cover the face of those who have set their boldness in Thee forever. And now we desire Thee with our whole heart, and we tremble before Thee, ^C and clinging to Thy vision as if struck with awe from behind, we, fervent lovers, cry out to Thee from the depths: Do not despise us, do not put Thy servants to shame, do what is according to Thy nature as a good, gentle, indulgent, and merciful One, full of pity, wondrous in strength, clothed in glory. Let Thy vengeance be turned upon the wrongdoers, let the bold be put to confusion;

[Repeated anchor text: "the Word", βασιλεύς → "king" unless a Roman emperor is meant). (This is the start of the page, so no anchor text is repeated here.)]

May the perpetrators receive confusion. May dire evils befall those who have wrought them. May shame cover their faces. May they fall from all their tyrannical power, and may every stronghold of their might be crushed. Let them acknowledge that You alone are the Lord God, the mighty God, full of glory over all the earth. ^A Thus sang those three pious youths. But those who cast the youths into the furnace did not cease throwing in materials, so that the flame rose high, towering seven times over. The great fire roared to seven cubits high; the flame spread and raced in a circle, burning all whom it found roundabout, the ministers of the cruel tyrant. Then there descended the servant of God; ^B he strikes the furnace all around, appearing clearly to the youths cast into the flame, and he shakes the flame out of the furnace, and in the midst of the furnace a breath breathes like a cool, pleasant dew, whistling softly. The fire, being divided, gave light to the youths, but burning only those who lit it. It contained the youths like a sweet bridal chamber; it burnt nothing, it caused no pain, it consumed the bonds, it spared their hair. Then the three, piously applauding together, ^C with one tongue and one zeal, composed a hymn of praise, they hymned, they blessed, they danced, they sang thanksgiving; and they uttered these things with sweet lips: "How blessed, how laudable, how great is the mighty God, the Lord Almighty! God of old, of the ancestors of old, most high, above every height and all the ages, whose name is to the infinite end of the ages, surpassing glory, hymn, height, and time! Looking from on high at the whole depth of the abyss, sitting upon the flaming throne of the Cherubim, how blessed, how laudable, how great! Whom the heavens and the earth and minds bless: how blessed, how laudable, how great!"

Ode VIII.

Bless the Creator Christ, all created things, exalt and glorify Him unto the ends. Exalt and glorify the Word of God, you heavens of God and spirits, unto the ends. [Exalt] all the fluid, all the nature of the things above. [Exalt] the beauty of the stars, of the moon, the light of the sun. [Exalt] every spirit, and every shower or every dew. [Exalt] heat, cold, fire, warmth, and the flame of the sun. [Exalt] light and darkness, pleasant fire, the splendor of the day. [Exalt] frosts, lightnings, snows, ice, clouds. [Exalt] mountains, hills, the whole earth, everything of earth’s nature. [Exalt] fountains, the sea, every creature of the moisture. [Exalt] priests, prophets, and servants, temple-wardens. [Exalt] the souls of the righteous, the spirits of the departed. [Exalt] you who live chastely, you who are humble in heart. [Exalt] Ananias, Misael, and Azarias.

VARIOUS POEMS. CXXI.

Ode of the God-Man's Mother, the Virgin.

CXXII. Zacharias' utterance and prophecy.

CXXIII.

INEUNTIS SAECULI X. COSMAS VESTITOR. NOTITIA.

(Cas. Oudin, *De script. eccles.*, vol. II, col. 400). Cosmas Vestitor, by nation a Greek, shone among the first at the Constantinopolitan court, at the time when the Emperor Leo VI, nicknamed the Wise and Philosopher, was ruling the Eastern Empire with glory and praise. He was called *Vestitor* or *Vestiarios* among the Greeks of the following age, because he held the noble office of *vestitor* (or rather, *protovestiarios*) under that emperor; his duties were to attend to the emperor himself in dressing, and to be in charge of both procuring and keeping the imperial vestments. (See Georgius Codinus Curopalates in the book *De officialibus palatii CP.*, chap. 2 and 5).

I have determined the age of this writer from the Anonymous author who wrote the *Life of Saint John Chrysostom* from various authors around the year 950, somewhat after the times of Constantine Porphyrogenitus; this work is brought forward by Henry Savile in his Greek edition of all the works of St. John Chrysostom (vol. VIII, p. 293), published at Eton. This Anonymous writer collected the *Life* of Chrysostom from twenty older writers, whose catalog he prefixes to his work according to the order of time, and he joins Cosmas Vestitor at the fourteenth place and the Emperor Leo at the fifteenth place—as if they were of the same time—both of whom had dealt with the praises of Chrysostom before him (a).

Since, therefore, the Emperor Leo, called the Wise, had collected many homilies and encomia in praise of the saints and of the festivals and solemnities of the Church from the aforementioned men, Cosmas Vestitor or Vestiarios, imitating his own lord the emperor, at whose side he sat, also composed certain small works in Greek in praise of the saints, which are still found in manuscript in English and other libraries.

According to Allatius in his *Diatriba De Symeonum scriptis*, p. 95, the work of Cosmas Vestitor on the holy Joachim and Anna, parents of the Theotokos (b), *Εἰς τοὺς ἁγίους Ἰωακεὶμ καὶ Ἄνναν τοὺς γονεῖς τῆς Θεοτόκου*, begins: *Ἡ χθὲς τῆς Θεοτόκου γενεθλιακὴ πανήγυρις*, etc., "The yesterday's panegyris of the birth of the Theotokos, with secular or worldly joy," etc. Among the manuscript codes of the Bodleian library, in the Barocci manuscripts, code 234, no. 1: *Cosmas Vestitor on the Prophet Zacharias*, p. 1: *Μύστα τῶν προφητῶν*. Among the manuscript codes of the cathedrals of England and other notable libraries of the same kingdom, code 5950, in the Greek manuscripts of Thomas Gale, code 116, no. 1: *An Encomium of the Prophet Zacharias by Cosmas Vestitor*. Leo Allatius in *Diatriba de Symeonum scriptis*, p. 100: *Cosmae Vestitoris λόγος ἐγκωμιαστικὸς εἰς τὸν προφήτην καὶ ἀρχιερέα Ζαχαρίαν*, begins: *Μύστα*, etc.

Among the manuscript codes of the Bodleian library, code 269, in the manuscripts of Thomas Roe, code 23, no. 3: *A fragment by Cosmas Vestitor concerning the relics of John Chrysostom brought back to Constantinople*, p. 161: *Ἤκουσται πάντως ὑμῖν*, etc., and among the manuscript codes of the English cathedrals and other notable libraries of the same kingdom, code 6043, in the manuscripts of the same Thomas Gale, code 209: *A Sermon by Cosmas Vestitor on the relics of John Chrysostom brought back to Constantinople*. Leo Allatius, p. 94, in the cited place: *Cosmas Vestitor on the translation of the body of St. John Chrysostom to Constantinople*, *Εἰς τὴν ἐπάνοδον τοῦ λειψάνου τοῦ ἐν ἁγίοις πατρὸς ἡμῶν Ἰωάννου τοῦ Χρυσοστόμου*, begins: *Ἤκουσται πάντως ὑμῖν*, etc.

Among the manuscript codes of the Bodleian library, code 3561, in the manuscripts existing in the Bodleian "Hyperoon," letter A, code 71, no. 1: *A Canon by Cosmas Vestitor on the Theophany of our Lord Jesus Christ for the 6th of January*, p. 1 to 6. Furthermore, Henry Savile treats of Cosmas Vestitor in that Greek edition of all the works of St. John Chrysostom, which he procured at Eton in 1613 in eight folio volumes, volume VIII, p. 293, and pp. 943 and 944, where he testifies that he had in his hands the Greek *Encomium of Cosmas Vestitor on the relics of St. John Chrysostom brought back to the city of Constantinople*, as well as other things pertaining to the same, which he refrained from publishing. Leo Allatius, in *Diatriba de Symeonum scriptis*, pp. 94, 95, and 100.

(a) Remigius Cellier, however, in *Hist. génér. des auteurs eccl.*, vol. XIX, notes that these rest on mere conjecture; and the Reverend Father Antonius Ballerini, in *Sylloge monumentorum ad mysterium Conceptionis immaculatæ Virginis Deiparæ illustrandum*, argues against Oudin’s assertion of falsehood: "And it is false in the first place," he says, "that the order of time followed by the Anonymous is established as a foundation in describing that catalog of authors. For Theodoret, Nilus, and Isidore of Pelusium are placed before John Damascene, who flourished in the eighth century... It is clear, therefore, that those authors are not described in an order from which it can be inferred who flourished earlier and who later." The learned man concludes that no evidence is yet available by which Cosmas Vestitor could be removed from the list of writers of uncertain age.

(b) This was published in the *Sylloge* of Father Ballerini mentioned above, Rome 1856.