Table of Contents

NICEPHORUS GREGORAS BYZANTINE HISTORY BOOK TWENTY-FIVE

^A 1. I wished to proceed further for two reasons: first, to learn to what point in that foreign land the Christian race still survives, and through how many nations it extends, and in what manner, in the midst of irreligious men, it still holds to the ancestral dogmas of the faith in a way that is to them simpler and more true; and second, to see if by chance any remnants of that ancient wisdom might still survive among the Chaldeans and Persians. I was hindered by the most honest people of Hierapolis, to whom I had journeyed, even though they were about twelve hundred stadia from the sea. For they asserted that it was not possible to easily access even more distant places on account of the foreign language of the inhabitants; and what is more, even if they could be accessed easily, they insisted that no traces or signs of that wisdom remained among the Chaldeans and Persians.

For from the time that the Scythian race, having poured forth from northern springs like the water of a vast and wide-spreading sea, rushed into Asia and reduced the Persians and Medes—and, so to speak, all of this Asia from the Indians in the East to the Arabs in the South—under their dominion, not only were the greater part of the indigenous customs of those peoples extinguished and ^B deadened, but the very regional distances and borders of those nations were confounded and are now entirely difficult to discern.

At that time they said that a journey into those lands would be most inconvenient for me, especially since there had just arisen contentions and factions among the Scythians themselves over the primacy, their ruler and leader having died a short time before.

Having heard this, and at the same time observing that a similar confusion was spreading among the Arabs as well, since the Egyptian Pharaoh had recently died and his sons were at odds with one another over the kingdom, and the affairs of the Egyptians and Arabs were everywhere in disarray, I departed as quickly as possible from that place and retreated into Cilicia, a very great and opulent land, illustrious in situation and nature. There, after I had found many other distinguished cities near to each other, ^C

and above all Tarsus, where the Patriarch of Antioch usually has his seat—for not only does the city possess other goods, but also the river Cydnus flows quietly by it, in which river they say Alexander the Great himself, at the mere sight of it, was seized with a desire to bathe. ^B II. But when he wished to continue relating more things of this sort, I checked him; and having cut the continuity of his narration, I requested that he return to our conversation and answer my inquiries concerning the patriarchs and the bishops, and all those who had been allotted the duty of governing and administering those provinces in a more sacred manner. And I reproached the man, albeit mildly, for his forgetfulness, because he was striving so earnestly to tell me things that were not altogether necessary for me to hear, while he had buried in the deepest oblivion the memory of those things which it was of the utmost importance for us to know—things which, for the sake of piety, it would have seemed sweeter to me to hear at evening, at dawn, and at midday than if the Lydian Croesus had bestowed upon me bushels of gold—as if he were not the very person who had taken as the beginning of his own narrations the shipwrecks of the Church, because he had seen the new and illegitimate dogmas of Palamas creeping in ahead of the ancestral laws of piety, and considered this the cause of the decline of public affairs for the worse and, at the same time, of his own involuntary flight. “For what other history ought you to have collected, best of friends, Agathangelos?” I said. “What other narration did you think you could bring to me from abroad that would be more excellent and more precious than this? What other most beautiful source of pleasure for our fellow-countrymen here, who guard the Orthodox faith? They all vehemently desire to know how the report of such a calamity, by which the Church of God has been afflicted, affected the minds of those who were then wielding power and striving with monstrous writings to lead the pious men throughout the whole world into error, and were ambitiously endeavoring to secure for themselves, as a kind of trophy of such great wickedness, the fellowship and consensus of all.”

^C III. When I had said this, Agathangelos, taking up the discourse, said: “It has seemed better to me, O divine head, to treat and pursue those things separately at the end of this narration, where there would be nothing at all that could confuse and disturb the facts; for in this matter I was roughly of the opinion that universal and secular history, to speak briefly, differs from ecclesiastical history, and that the description of each ought to be peculiar and separate, and that they usually comprise different things, not the same ones. But since you have chosen to undertake a double labor instead of a single one, and have decided to comprise in one volume the events that happen at the same time in both genres, I myself would in no way hesitate to pursue together the events of that same period, since in another way—for the truth shall be told—I was myself quite afraid...

of exhausting your hearing by confounding distinct matters, ^A when you were already deeply grieved as it was, and when it is not possible to push all those things behind the memory of the deception—things from which some pretext of burden has been instilled, somehow or other. Yet now, since I learn that this version is much more pleasing to you than that one, I gladly accept your will over my own for the time remaining. For what else could appear more fortunate to me now than to grant you such narratives, which are easier for me and for you surely better?

IV. ^B But indeed, after our friend Agathangelus had defended himself regarding those things which he had passed over in silence, he promised to speak in the subsequent narrative of those things which he was to relate, announcing that he would repeat but a few things from the former, because he had already set forth the greater part, and promising that he would omit nothing that was necessary. He said, therefore, that he had met not only the individual bishops whom he chanced upon in the various villages and cities he visited, but that he had met especially the patriarchs themselves—Gregory, that is, of Alexandria, and Ignatius of Antioch, and a third, he who occupied the patriarchal throne of Jerusalem before Lazarus, who arrived there this year; the name of the man, however, escapes me. He said that he had met them in various parts, in one place and then another, wherever each happened to be making his residence at that time. At first, he says, they mocked him and reviled him, and appeared, as it were, to mock him and to shrink away entirely from his association—each individually, yet all of them equally, ^C as if from a common signal—because of the storm that had risen thence from the ancestral dogma. Thus swiftly did the report spread, like the blast of a wild wind, over Egypt, Syria, Cilicia, and, to speak generally, the whole world—wherever communities of Christians had their dwellings—regarding the lawless and bastard dogmas of Palamas; and thus it came to pass that the wretch, who before was obscure, began now to be famous for his wickedness. For he says that glory is acquired not only by dexterous and prudent action, but also by the wickedness of evildoers outstripping virtue.

V. ^D When, however, he began to relate each detail, tracing matters back further, and among the first things put forward was how he himself also fervently embraced the same sentiment as they did for the sake of piety, and how, on account of this very zeal, he became an exile from his native land, and how he was led by such a disposition to wander into places strange and unfamiliar to him—when he had recounted these things and others of this kind to them, by which he proved himself to all, collectively and individually, a steadfast champion of religion, then there was no one who did not repent of his previously formed harshness, and no one who did not welcome him kindly and strive to honor him, and offer manifest pledges of a true harmony of faith. Then also the patriarch of Antioch brought forward a written volume,

^A which contained the agreement of our Orthodox and common faith, while casting out Palamas from the Church of God for introducing spurious and profane dogmas—that volume, namely, which he had composed when he was present in Byzantium, listening to and struggling alongside the patriarch John and the bishops about him. These men were for a time superior, owing to the force of the truth which they defended, and because there was no one present to oppose them—at that time, that is, when it was decreed that this plague, then first sprouting in the pure field, should be rooted out along with its very seed. He says that he unrolled this volume, and at the same time showed the signatures of the unanimity of all the bishops, presbyters, and other most excellent men of that province who stood in the same opinion.

VI. He said that he had found the prelate of Alexandria, along with all the bishops subject to him, and also he who then governed the Church of Jerusalem, ^B to be possessed of the same mind, and that there was absolutely no one whose mouth was not always filled with criticism of the Byzantines for such levity in matters so immutable. He greatly admired the prelate of Alexandria for his abundance of natural prudence, conjoined with gravity and constancy, so that he was not easily driven to untimely ambition, nor did he descend into a certain rude and uncultivated taciturnity on account of great ignorance; but rather, being fortified by the use of affairs, he displayed a certain decorum that was altogether becoming. ^C But he particularly admired this saying of his, which he would mention when he spoke of the man: that for many men, even those who are not otherwise without prudence, the fact that they fancy they know is itself a hindrance to their knowing. This, he said, might indeed seem light, yet it could cause great calamities to both cities and houses, arising like a tiny spark, which, once a more insolent fire is kindled, never ceases to consume everything as soon as the abundance of material readily provides it with fuel. ^D Hence, he says, the regulations and norms established by the fathers are cast aside, the laws are trampled underfoot, and there is nothing good and honest that can remain in its proper state, nor any evil and wickedness that cannot insult the truth. Therefore, what will a kingdom governed by the license of opinion and agitated by the lusts of whim do that is virtuous? From what will it abstain that might incite it to worse things? So far is such a city from being able to be safe and sound, that it is cast into extreme dangers by the storms of the sea, like a ship without a pilot.

Now this is the peculiar condition of the Byzantine state, dating from even earlier times. And I do not wish simply to rebuke this lot, but because for this very reason, if we look back further, we find not only the many calamities of public affairs, but the greatest of all misfortunes: those of the pious Church itself. For evils are born at Byzantium and thence, as if flowing down a slope, easily fill the other cities with the most calamitous things, or else, brought in from elsewhere obscurely and in shadow, they receive a more permanent fixing there and reveal the public coloration of wickedness. Hence it remains for me to wonder, not whether something has happened...

happens there, but rather whether anything being done there is not abhorrent to reason. As for us, who have no intention of pursuing this superfluous and artificial philosophy, nor do we strive, through rhetorical subtleties, to confound things divine with things profane, let us remain in the dogmas of this time that have been well written since ancient days. Nor do we attempt to stir up again what has been wrapped in silence, or to resolve them with inept syllogisms. I say "we"—we upon whom the duty of pastors has fallen here—we live our long life spiritually and lead our spiritual flock in the same way under the governor, the sole creator of all things and God. But the polytheism and atheism of Palamas, or rather, the setting aside of the mystery of the incarnation of God—which is to say, the total subversion of the entire Church—we have neither accepted nor will we ever accept, even if a myriad of myriads of enemies should set before us the instruments and machines of every kind of death. Nay, Palamas himself, and those who think as he does, along with his dogmas of this sort—which we ourselves, whenever we have seen them, have consigned to eternal execration and fire—we continue to consign to the same. You possess and shall possess an accurate representation of these things yourself, by traversing the cities and regions here: ^B Egypt, Arabia, Phoenicia, and Syria, and all the races of Christians dwelling around these parts; seeing how, while living in the midst of the impious—those who possess unclean lips—and being subject to alien weapons, they nevertheless follow the teaching of the bishops here, and always attribute to the holy dogmas the reverence handed down from the fathers. It would take a long time to narrate everything that that divine man communicated to me, and what others, at different times and in different ways, recounted to me as belonging to the same order and piety.

VII. ^C Having spent six years in those places, we then departed, and with sails full, we were carried from Cilicia into the deep, and on the second day we arrived at the island of Cyprus. There I had determined to linger for a long time, both because of the other advantages that the island offers, and because the administration of the commonwealth is excellently tempered by laws and is exceedingly hospitable—but most of all with the intention of enjoying the company of that most wise man, George, I mean, of Lapithos. I could not meet with him, however, immediately upon disembarking from the ship that same day. ^D For he did not have his residence in the vicinity, but there was an interval of two days' journey between it and the port into which we had sailed. For Cyprus is a larger island than Rhodes, and not of the same shape as that one, but oblong. In the middle of the island stands a mountain, which raises its summit to a great height. The mountain is called Olympus, from which three sources of rivers gush forth. The largest of these, which is called Lapithos, descends, dividing and flowing around the region—as it is called—of Leucosia, and discharges its stream into the sea that looks toward the north. He happened to have his dwelling on the banks of this river; and for this reason, he himself, it seems, has been surnamed Lapithes from the river. But immediately, someone from the island...

even before he comes into the man’s own presence, will easily recognize from the very appearance and magnitude of the buildings and stables that he is by no means one of the ignoble and common sort, but one of the most illustrious and foremost of the island. ^A One would recognize it even more from the dignity and gravity of his life. For feasts and sacred assemblies and the utmost generosity toward the needy adorn that house. He had the greatest care for the Christian captives who were frequently led about there, providing himself abundantly with a larger and better portion for their freedom, and at the same time exhorting others in the precepts of the holy Scriptures. For his most serious undertaking, ^B more than anything else, was to teach the Christians gathered in the holy churches not only the other laws of piety, but also to provide and take great care for the needy, so that through him that whole island might be an arena of mercy and faith, and, most of all, a place of freedom for captives.

VI. Furthermore, in those regions are also the king’s estates and residences, and his buildings, which are very beautiful and magnificent, because that part of the island enjoys a more pleasant temperance of air and a more delightful location. ^C For this reason, Georgios Lapithes frequented him often, and enjoyed very great royal respect and honor, as much on account of his dignity as his wisdom, with which he was more endowed than all others. Even the king himself was not moderately imbued with the philosophy of the Latins; but although for that reason he always had many Latin sages around him, he was more delighted by the humanity and companionship of Georgios. For he says, "Sages are the tyrants of the society of the wise." Having him then, he was persuaded to acquire for himself both forms of wisdom equally, I mean both that of the Greeks and that of the Latins; ^D for Georgios was most skilled in both wisdom and language. For this reason, the king gladly heard him often disputing in his presence with the Latin sages, whom he would defeat, striking them most powerfully with the arrows of syllogistic arguments, especially when the struggle was instituted concerning the observance of the ancestral dogmas of the faith; for then, like a river, pouring in upon them with the demonstrations of holy Scripture, he made them appear like completely mute fish. And he would soothe the king, sometimes driven to anger by these disputations, again with the charm of his words and the irrefutable turning and circling of the truth. By such methods, then, he would gently repress the harshness of that royal soul and introduce tranquility and serenity in its place. And to put the matter briefly, there was no one at all—whether he was not inexperienced in Greek doctrine or not entirely devoid of Latin philosophy—to whom one would not grant the victory in any learned contest, far surpassing his adversaries. I, indeed, had heard of the man’s reputation even before I sailed from here, not only by often reading his letters, with which he replied to your letters and to the duty of friendship, but also when his highest praises...

^A reached me from the mouths of those who had arrived from there for the most part. Yet my admiration for him was confined to narrow limits. But when I travelled to Cyprus and was staying with him—he whose greatest care and diligence was to provide me hospitality on your account—then I knew and tested the man more perfectly. For I saw that fame of his living and breathing, as it were, with my own ears and eyes, and having confirmed it for myself, and having obtained very clear pledges of the truth, I practically saw the fame itself being refuted and clearly shown to be far short of what it should have been.

Above all else, I admired his mind and the friendship he held for you. He was so passionately devoted to your treatises and books that I could not adequately express it. For whenever he perused as many of them as time offered to his desire, he was always filled with great pleasure, and his outward appearance revealed the intense internal ^B agitation of his soul; one would have said that he was divinely inspired as he applauded each point, and seemed, if I may say so, to forget in what part of the world he was. For sometimes he seemed to be conversing with you, and to be present with you yourself, and to hear you speaking—whatever the subject was—as he went through it with his own tongue, especially when he took into his hands that dialogue which you wrote against Barlaam the Calabrian.

He strove most zealously and almost intentionally with great labor that he might not only admire your writings himself, but also that he might always hold your praises with the greatest admiration in his mouth in discussions with the Latins, whether in the presence of the king or wherever else opportunities for conversation and discourse might arise. So much so that ^C he almost hung the whole of Cyprus upon your hymns and made them all your preachers, even before they saw any of your own works. So much did he desire to be granted the sight and conversation of you, and so much was he entirely occupied with such thoughts night and day, that he prayed that neither you would die nor he depart from life before he arrived at Byzantium, a thing he had long desired and resolved upon for no other reason than to be able to enjoy your presence and company.

So simple and in every respect sincere was his spirit always toward you, and nothing painted or counterfeit ever lay hidden in those letters, which, full of long panegyrics of you, he constantly sent to you. He also brought to ^D me the writings on astronomy which you had sent him at various times. In this matter I was almost struck with wonder at how he comprehended the most laborious and difficult of astronomical questions in a few syllables. Nor did he neglect Ptolemy’s *Tetrabiblos* on astrology; but he not only read it most studiously, but also all the books on a similar subject that still exist, composed by writers older or more recent than Ptolemy, or written by the ancient Chaldeans and Persians. But whatever things exceeded the limits established by holy laws and went beyond the fixed goal, he rejected and loathed as harmful to those desiring to live piously; whatever, on the contrary, soberly concerned the reasons and causes of things

pertaining to the creative design of existing beings, he welcomed and accepted most readily. He furthermore ^A studied these matters zealously, so as not to be shaken by the clever sophistries of the Latins there—who, together with the king himself, devote not a light or mediocre effort to that branch of knowledge, inasmuch as the Egyptian Arabs frequently traverse the sea to the king for the sake of learned disputation and ambition, not without that great ostentation of the Arabs, who spend their whole life in the study of investigating whether any trace of the ancient Chaldean wisdom might still survive. For they said that, since it was determined by the Creator that all things which arise and pass away should be brought about and formed by the quality and motion of the celestial bodies, and that the stream of matter should be governed and modulated, as it were, by laws corresponding to the configurations and relations that obtain between these and terrestrial things, we should by no means strive to know the one while neglecting the other. For he who would neither unite practice with speculation, nor one with the other, enters upon a certain blind path of doctrine. Since, therefore, contemplation in these two types of philosophy ^B is exercised, he would certainly not grasp the reasons of things, and would be far from being able to be called a perfect sage, who would not induce his mind to investigate the mysteries of both philosophies as much as is needful.

IX. But enough of these matters. He, however, since he enjoyed much leisure or considered it a matter of greater importance than any occupation to cultivate and attend to me for your sake, went about the island with me and pointed out what was worth seeing, not only in other places but also in the theaters, the marketplaces, and the courts of justice. He further demonstrated to me how the system of coinage and money remained the same through all time and was never altered in the least degree; and how in weights and measures all types of commodities for sale were given and received not according to the will of each individual seller, but according to the ancient institutions of the state; nor as the greed and avarice of the wealthy might wish to gain more than is just, but as the laws and disciplines, well-prescribed by our ancestors as guardians, might command for all time. ^C Neither he who excels in wealth nor he who happens to be advanced in physical strength could there easily oppress and circumvent those who are inferior in both these respects; for whoever might dare to transgress the laws of the state even in the slightest, he is immediately punished, if not by loss of life, then at least by those members of the body which the laws command according to the proportion of the offense. This system, he said, assuring me, is what maintains and holds together states and cities, lands and islands, privately and publicly; but if it is overturned, it overturns with a sudden rush even all things both collectively and individually—those things which are handled illegitimately in states and cities—since by no means can a firm and stable foundation underlie things that are repugnant to the law, but in a short time all providence, which should contain the state, is agitated and dissolved. ^D

^A For if the whole body of the state is healthy, it is necessary that the members in concord with it should also fare well; just as, conversely, when it is sick, they too cannot but be affected by the disease, inasmuch as they imitate it as a primary model, and present the political authority and condition as a most rich witness to the depravity. The Lord, therefore, being just and, as is consistent, loving justice, elevates to greater happiness the nations which, as the holy Apostle says, although they do not have the law, yet by nature comply with the precepts of the law; but He hates those who have indeed undertaken and professed that they would live according to the institutions and laws of religion, yet by their deeds mock their own promises and shake off every rule and standard of justice. For he who turns away from justice and chooses the lots of injustice, and while neither standing in awe of divine laws nor regarding any human fortune, he has clearly sequestered himself of his own free will from God, who holds the thrones of justice, and has simultaneously entered into intimacy with the devil. For this reason, in that land where such evils are sown, the basest arts prevail, while the virtues necessarily hold the lower place; there exists a desolation of all good things, and there, finally, the devil most impudently insults religion itself, inciting his followers sharply so that they might deny and discard it. ^B Such a thing has also happened to the Byzantine state; for, having hated that truth and the justice of political authority, and having made injustice and falsehood its own, it threw open its gates to impiety with all its might. And since, for these things, the devil needed a body and an instrument fully suited to him, he finds Palamas—a little man, as I have heard, though I have come to know him more accurately from his own writing—utterly mean and knowing nothing more than how he might capture vain glory and, on account of this very thing, contrive depraved opinions. And when he had added to him the princes as allies, he gathered together all the profane and adulterated dogmas—to speak briefly—whatever at other times had perniciously crept into the churches of God, and at this time, he compelled them all [to be accepted] and sowed upon the Church of Christ a very abundant and utterly varied fruit of wickedness. For that wretch not only taught polytheism but even added atheism, and along with it Arianism and Iconoclasm, and finally the denial of the incarnation of the Son and Word of God. But what need is there to go through each point, when it is permitted to refute everything, following the traces, from the sacred books of the holy Fathers? ^C But indeed, while that most wise and dear-to-God man was relating such things to me, and from time to time bringing books which he himself had laboriously gleaned from the whole of sacred Scripture as weapons to provide for those who were choosing to live piously there, and which other illustrious and orthodox men of the island had published, having manifestly spoken against the depraved opinions of Palamas, ^D a rumor

reached the ears of the Cypriots that the emperor Cantacuzenus had entered Byzantium secretly by night and had seized the imperial throne through the assistance and deceitful machinations of Palamas, to whom he had first pledged himself with the guarantee of a terrible oath—or, what amounts to the same thing, had sworn by God, whom he professed to adjure, that he would confirm and establish his polytheism and all the profane and irreligious innovations of his that had been introduced into the Church of God. ^B This threw that most wise man, George Lapithes, into great sadness—not because Cantacuzenus had seized the throne, but because he was held captive by such oaths, having become a prisoner to the impieties of Palamas. Wherefore, cast down from those noble hopes which had long nourished joy in his mind, he took it ill and was indignant, his spirit agitated and seething like a stormy sea. For he had hoped to sail with me from there upon my return as far as Byzantium, for the sake of seeing and conversing with you, as we have already said, spurred by a longing for higher wisdom—perhaps also for other needs and for seeing all those things which, more than other cities, the city of the Byzantines happens to possess. But now, in an instant, seeing the opposite prevailing, he was pierced with grief, and wept for the piety thus openly driven into danger, ^C God having permitted this through hidden reasons; and he wept likewise for your death, which he suspected, as he considered how ardent your zeal toward God was, and how combative a struggle you were destined to manifest for the dogmas of the Fathers, even unto death.

XI. But what need is there to recount in detail everything that we observed on that island in no less than two years,

XI. Regarding the departure from Cyprus and the arrival in Crete

^A, widening equally the left and right sides, and left in the middle, at frequent intervals, polished columns to support the earth above. He distributed and made various dwellings, courtyards, and fountains. The labyrinth was shown to me by the locals, who were holding many lit torches in their hands. They say, then, that Minos, who ruled Crete in ancient times, as you know, having acquired a very great naval power, enslaved the surrounding nations, as many as then inhabited the Cyclades islands and as many as reach into the interior of Boeotia and Attica. In later times, when the rule had passed by succession to the Minotaur, a man of cruel habits, they say that he imposed various tributes on various people, and that he commanded the inhabitants of Attica to lead away each year seven sons and seven daughters of the nobles into the labyrinth, a dungeon of oblivion. When the lot fell to Theseus, Aegeus his father, being then the ruler of Attica, would not let him go; but he departed secretly ^B, very willingly placing himself in the number of the twice-seven, on account of which, as some say, Aegeus, throwing himself into that sea, ended his life, and the Aegean Sea was named from him. They say, however, that Ariadne, the daughter of the Minotaur, being captivated by the beauty of Theseus, secretly instructed him with means for his liberation; by using these, Theseus most easily found the exit of the labyrinth, and then, having killed the Minotaur, fled by sea to his native land at once with Ariadne and the Attic youths, and shortly after founded the celebrated city of the Athenians, who had previously inhabited Attica dispersed through individual villages.

XII. For me, after that sight, it happened that I visited the other villages, states, and cities of the island. And indeed I observed the whole race of people who inhabit the island, discovering that they were Romans ^C and that they steadfastly maintained the piety of their ancestral faith as handed down from their ancestors. It was indeed in my mind to remain there for a longer time, in order to explore the affairs of the island more diligently and accurately; but I was deterred from this purpose by the tumult of arms and of the military forces that were then raging there. For the island had long since fallen into calamities, on account of which, having been subdued by Latin arms, it had submitted to the rule of the Venetian republic. Now, however, when a rumor had been spread over the whole continent and the island that the Genoese, who hold the castle of Galata ^D in the vicinity of the city, having broken their treaty and rebelled, had defeated the Byzantines in a naval battle and were dreaming of the empire of the whole sea, such that they could neither be restrained nor would even deign to stand in alliance with their fellow-people, but instead bore themselves with a certain arrogant and, so to speak, imperial haughtiness toward all who live a maritime life, because of this many were disturbed, and especially the Venetians, who, although they were able in a short time to equip great naval forces and for that reason to assume no mediocre spirits, were then, beyond expectation, by them

^A already hindered from sailing up and sailing around to the upper regions, to Lake Maeotis, and to the mouths of the Tanais, at their own discretion and will as before. Hence, they themselves ^B began to gather their own forces, constructing more triremes than there had been until then, and launching and refitting from every quarter the ships that had long been laid up in the dockyards. At the same time, they summoned their allied and subject cities and islands to the common struggle, to contribute arms, triremes, and marine soldiers according to each one's capacity. They called up for military daring, moreover, other forces from remote ^C regions—with generous wages for the present and promises of even more generous rewards for the future—among which were the Catalans, who dwell down by the Gallic Sea where the feet of the Pyrenees mountains end most closely; these yield to no Latins in ferocity and martial virtue, whether in land battles or in naval engagements.

XIII. Since, therefore, Crete was being troubled for this reason and was, so to speak, shaken, preparing for allied arms and whatever equipment is suited for warding off enemy incursions, I departed from there as spring was beginning. Leaving to my left the island of Salamis, where they say that Themistocles, son of Neocles, ^D long ago sank that naval force of the Persians, I passed by the islands they call the Cyclades and sailed into the island of Euboea, which had been subject to the Venetians for many years already. When I had decided to stay there for some time, I was deterred from my purpose by the equipment for arms and war, to which even the Euboeans were applying themselves with the greatest zeal and alacrity. For the rumor was that triremes from Genoa were about to sail against them with hostile intent at any moment. Wherefore, having in a short time thoroughly surveyed the whole island and visited the cities as much as I could, I set out for Artemisium, the northern promontory of Euboea.

But when I wished to sail on from there, the enemy's fleet came upon me and prevented my departure. For fourteen Genoese triremes were seen at the end of summer sailing with all speed into Oropus and Aulis. Between these two cities, which lie a little toward the south, there is an oblong harbor that defies every violent force of the most turbulent storm; into this the enemies had just sailed. On the following day, thirty-four Venetian triremes, having long lain in wait for those enemy ships, arrived and, blocking the mouth of the harbor, unexpectedly surrounded the Genoese ships like a net. Of these, four ships immediately spread their sails and, as if committing themselves to the cast of the dice and preferring the danger that was manifest to that which was doubtful, escaped the enemy's sword; but the remaining ships—with the exception of a few men who leaped onto the mainland—the Venetians captured with their crews, without engaging in close combat or joining a naval battle. And this affair occurred in this way at that time. But the prefect of the Venetian fleet, after matters turned out so successfully, having arranged the affairs of Euboea as much as possible, set sail...

^A with full sails from Euboea and directed his course straight for Byzantium. In the meantime, having learned that the emperor was staying at Thessalonica, he chose four of his ships, handed them over to one of his most trusted men, and sent him to the emperor to negotiate an alliance against their common enemies. As for himself, he sailed toward Byzantium, intending to await the arrival of the emperor there.

XIV. But you yourself would know better than I what followed, since you were present at those events and saw them, and are very eager to write down such things. For my part, fearing the tumults that were ranging over the sea, I decided it was necessary to remain where I was for the time being. It was then that I caught sight of those four Genoese triremes returning, which, as we have said, had managed to escape that peril a little while before, and had secretly seized one of the most affluent seaside cities of Euboea, and having suddenly plundered it, had sailed off at once with the soldiers they had previously lost, while the Euboeans, suspecting nothing of the kind, were sleeping, as they say, the sleep of Endymion because of that recent victory. ^B

XV. Not much time had elapsed before I saw those thirty-four Venetian triremes returning home from Byzantium, having accomplished nothing, because the emperor was residing at Thessalonica at that time. But when the winter had passed and the rays of the spring sun were beginning to kindle, fourteen ships from Venice again hurried to Byzantium with sails and oars and all the zeal of their souls, so that, by occupying the straits of the Euxine Bridge, they might lay an ambush for the Genoese merchant vessels which were to transport grain supplies from up high from the Euxine Sea and the Scythian shores adjacent to the sea for those in Galata. But you yourself know accurately what followed and what outcome these matters had, since you were present and saw them. For I, having remained there, having learned only from certain obscure rumors—among other things—this as well: that the Venetians had captured almost all the ships of the fortress of Galata that were shut up in the Euxine Sea, as they had just come down, and that they had captured the greater part of them at ^C the straits of the Euxine, where they suspected no danger, while the rest were scattered in individual roadsteads of the Euxine, where each happened to be at anchor, and were later occupied as they sailed by. And when the Venetians had already joined the emperor to themselves as an ally, who had brought up very great forces by land and sea, and when eight allied triremes had been received by them from the island of Crete, and in addition to these, six transport ships had been prepared from among the very largest, carrying all kinds of siege engines and a great many very brave heavy-armed soldiers, it seemed to all that the time was now opportune to advance with all their forces and besiege the fortress on the very same day. And we had heard that, although matters had been organized in this way, nothing was brought to a conclusion by them, so that the prefect of the Venetian fleet, having now despaired of the matter and having abandoned the emperor, who was pursuing the war, with the utmost haste ^D

had departed, having learned already that sixty triremes were setting out from Genoa, contrary to all expectation, into the open sea.

XVI. These things, indeed, being far from my homeland, I heard as if through a mist; but you, as the narrative progresses, will set forth things that are truer and more certain regarding what was done there, adding at the same time the causes of these events. But now, I will myself recount in order, accurately and in detail, the things of which I was an eyewitness while present there. We must therefore return to the point from which we digressed, so that the continuity of the history may provide a clear and easy understanding of these remarkable events to those who encounter it.

^B XVII. I happened to be staying near the mouths of Euboea and the city of Carystus as the summer was already drawing to a close, and at that time it happened that those fifteen Venetian triremes—which we have already demonstrated had returned from the harbors of Byzantium—sailed into Oreus, a city of Euboea with a well-appointed harbor. For the eight Cretan triremes had departed from there to return home to protect their own interests. At the same time, frequent and grave reports were striking the island with terror, stating that sixty enemy ships were very close. Therefore, the prefect of the Venetian fleet in haste removed all the equipment from his own ships; and having left the hulls empty, he sank them in the harbor, secured by cables, so that they might not be captured by the enemy ^C who were sailing straight toward them. Then, as quickly as he could, he roused all the Euboeans to martial vigor, and at the same time he sent an embassy to the Latins who were in Athens and Thebes, requesting the assistance of three hundred picked cavalrymen. Furthermore, he did not cease day and night from arming the city magnificently, sparing no expense and adding all kinds of fortifications round about. Two days passed in the interval, and those enemy ships were sighted around late evening, sailing toward Euboea. And on that evening, since there was a calm, they remained out at sea, took their evening meal, and having decided upon what was to be done, as soon as, at the first light of the following day, they had drawn up their battle line, laden with all kinds of weaponry, they sailed into the harbor of Oreus. They struck great terror, raising their battle standards, ^D and sounding trumpets, pipes, and other such instruments which excite the spirits of men toward alacrity and the ardor of battle. But since there was absolutely no opportunity for a naval engagement (for the ships did not encounter others to descend into combat with them), having left a sufficient number of archers in the ships to guard them and to defend against and distract those missiles that were being hurled from the ramparts, the rest of them all disembarked onto land, wishing to encircle the city. They brought along many ladders, hoping to capture the city immediately, relying on their numbers and the martial boldness of their soldiers. Having therefore besieged the city, they attacked it by hurling missiles from afar and assaulting the walls with ladders; and, because a multitude of men was available, they began to drive mines straight toward the walls from a distance, so that they might break into the city secretly, either by the ascent of ladders or by a subterranean passage of tunnels. Now, the prefect and leader of the Venetian fleet, by means of machines against machines from within

^A, did not hesitate to offer resistance, so that the attempts of the enemies from without proved fruitless. For by volleys of stones from the battlements and with all kinds of missiles, he first wounded and drove them away. Whenever he saw and suspected that the wall was accessible by ladders, he immediately added a sufficient height to it, connecting the intervals between the individual battlements; on these he built a structure not exceeding the height of a man, tapering to a slender and sharp peak, so that even for enemies who had scaled the wall, keeping their footing was both difficult and very dangerous. Furthermore, regarding that subterranean tunnel, he conjectured where the end of the trench would emerge through the wall, and within it he dug a transverse ditch much deeper than their tunnel, so that when they finally crept within the walls, they would unexpectedly fall into a pit and abyss of death. For by rolling heavy stones down upon these falling men, they immediately cast them into inevitable nets of death. ^B

After many days had passed, the auxiliaries of the Athenians and Thebans arrived: three hundred picked horsemen and more volunteer foot soldiers than they had themselves. And as the report spread through the whole island, many flocked from all sides, each holding whatever weapon he chanced to have in his hands. The Venetian general and commander of the fleet had laid night ambushes in the ravines before the city, and at daybreak he led his forces out into the open—armored soldiers, peltasts, archers, and spearmen—and as many cavalrymen as he could find among the citizens there at that time, so that his entire combat-ready force amounted to no less than five thousand picked men. Newly reinforced by the Athenian and Theban auxiliary force, he dared at last to join battle and engage, although the number of the enemies was twice as large as his own. He thought it better, if possible, for the outcome of the entire war to be decided on that day, rather than to have the struggle dragged out over a long time while the enemies ravaged the countryside day and night. Wherefore, having drawn up the army and distributed the ranks, and having given the left wing to the Athenians and Thebans, while he himself held the right ^C, he led them against the enemy camp, provoking them to an engagement of battle. They, therefore, immediately leaped to their arms and, leaving their ships almost empty, resisted valiantly at the start; but later, as the cavalry charged them spiritedly and the infantry phalanxes attacked from every side with shouting and clamor, they were unable to bear the onslaught, but retreated, being trampled and wounded. With the arrival of night, the battle was broken off, and they boarded their ships, not nearly as many as they had come, nor in the same order, but in a state that was truly very much the opposite. For on enemy soil no fewer than five hundred men had been killed, and a no less significant number of soldiers had been affected by wounds. Wherefore, that same night they were compelled to depart without order, dragging with them certain ships that had been stripped of their rowers. The prefect and commander of the Venetian fleet, with two ships that were swifter and better equipped than the rest, having extracted the things from the sea and whatever was immediately available, as far as it was possible ^D

they embarked upon their own ^A ships, not as many as had arrived, nor with the same formation, but quite on the contrary. For there had fallen on that hostile side no fewer than five hundred, while the wounded, on the other hand, numbered no fewer. Thus, even while it was still night, they were compelled to sail away, dragging behind some of the ships that remained. Very quickly that admiral and commander of the Venetian fleet drew two of his own ships out of the sea’s waters—those that were swifter than the others, and equipped them as best he could—and sent one to the Venetian aristocracy to report what had happened, and the other to Byzantium to declare the same things to the Venetians there, and at the same time to reconnoiter where the enemy was voyaging. So be it. ^B XVIII. I myself was carried on this ship and arrived at the Hellespont; for there, the ship that was carrying us had moored and lowered its oars near the port of Tenedos, having heard that the enemy fleet had touched land at Chios, both for the sake of the care of the wounded, and at the same time, insofar as they were able, to receive the places of those who had died in the battle, from where it might be easier for them. Wherefore, having entrusted the reports of the victory to an agile man, it sent him to Byzantium, while it itself, having weighed anchor, departed with all speed for Euboea. ^C And as I waited there for four days, there appeared to my sight the shadowy memories of that Troy, of which there is much talk by the illustrious Homer, that fleets with ten thousand men, having sailed toward it on account of that Helen, had lost many of their own heroes and after ten years had utterly enslaved it. I also beheld the mouths of the river Scamander, which gushes forth from Mount Ida, not as Homer writes in the Iliad, that its banks were scorched by Hephaestus on account of Achilles, the son of Thetis—for that is a myth told in the language of poetic license—but that lilies and thickets and grasses were around it, all beautiful, and sufficient to refute the tongue of Homer. ^D XIX. But on the following day I found a merchant ship about to sail to Byzantium, and I arrived home carrying with me no more than ten gold coins (for everything else of mine had been consumed in those travels). Thinking, therefore, that smaller and lesser-value coins were more suitable for purchasing individual necessities, I straightway exchanged those gold ones for such coins. But when, on the next day, I had gone to those selling wares, I discovered that the money I held in my hands had been devalued, and its price had diminished so much in one day that those ten coins were worth only eight. ^D Wherefore a certain old friend whispered in my ears that I should immediately, on that very day, use all those little coins to buy necessary things, lest, as things fluctuate daily like the Euripus, it should become my lot that in a short time what I then possessed would be reduced to nothing. And I truly wondered, by the gods, how the sun endures to illuminate this land with its light. It seems that the sun, though devoid of speech, teaches us the ways of patience through voiceless sounds; though we are gifted with speech by the common Creator, and are always ruled by His rightful commandments, we never understand anything of what is necessary.

XX. This, then, was the first shipwreck that cast bitter thoughts into my soul, when I had already traversed that vast sea; the second was the overthrow of the ancestral dogmas of the Church of God. Seeing this beginning to sprout, even as late-born weeds in a field, and at the same time hearing you foretell that God, for the vengeance of our sins, would permit a persecution against our religion, and knowing within myself that I should not be able to endure it, I became a voluntary exile from this fatherland of mine for already a full twenty years. Would that even more time had been added to this flight! But I was destined, it seems, to exchange waves for waves, by far more savage than those in foreign lands. For although I have traveled through many strange places and crossed a great many seas, I have never yet encountered such waves as those which have arisen here, to which I returned, hoping now most of all to refresh myself. For all those seas and every wave there threatened death to the body, the approach of which the immortal decree of nature had already foreordained; but the storms and tempests ^B of divine dogmas threaten death to the immortal soul, a death which can never, in any way, reach an end. And yet, I was not entirely unfamiliar with such waves even from afar. But a very sweet hope still urged me on, as I remembered the friendship that existed between you and the Emperor, and that nocturnal and daily companionship which he pursued with you with such supreme desire and burning spirit before he was elevated to the imperial throne, and how he hung upon your words and writings, and himself gathered the richest fruits from them, so that there was no one who could have thought it possible for any change to occur in his character, but rather that he would only progress further with the turns of fortune. But now, having come and learned that the reality is the exact opposite, and that he repays you, in exchange for your labors and affections, with such things as you—striving for the sake of religion—were bound to endure, but which he had no reason to inflict (for he ought neither to have become a persecutor of religion, nor, should he ever have done so, was it fitting for him to change his mind toward you in any respect), I counted you blessed for your fortitude, while I was ^C exceedingly angry at him for his madness. Or rather, I wept for the man because of his ruin. Indeed, I wondered—and I will never cease to wonder—how the wretch could for so long have concealed and harbored such wild and monstrous beasts |of wickedness| in the thickets of his soul. If, therefore, the matter be wrapped in certain sacred and secret reasons, I shall always wonder at it in silence, nor shall I ever ask anyone how it might be explained. But before all else, the medicines which your contemplations provide will suffice for my cure, even if you wish to hold a conversation with me on other matters. But if you have conceived some scheme learned in the mind, do not cease, dearest friend, to share it with me, so that you may bring medicine to my mind, which is laboring under a great lack of counsel in this regard, and for yourself [bring] some respite from the heavy grief which ^D your soul has suffered.

^A For the tempests of our ancestral dogmas and the opposing waves of our impious rulers know how to provide some consolation, by declaring the coming of tragedies from an obscure source, just as grief itself flies away like smoke through the tongue.

XXI. But I, taking up the discourse, “Regarding sorrow,” I said, “best of friends, Agathangelos, I do not believe there will be need for many words on my part toward you. ^B For there is as much sorrow present in me as, I suppose, there is joy. For joy is present in me, inasmuch as I already look toward the eternal rewards which are reserved for those who have contended for the sake of piety, which is the greatest provision for the consolation of those who are sorrowful. But I am pained all the more, seeing the upheaval of the Church and the cold-heartedness of the persecuting rulers, who have no regard for their soul, nor even if it be late, do they wish to take to mind that there is a reckoning of one’s life from God. And most of all, the action of my friend Cantacuzenus, manifestly committed against me, has remained a biting thing, because while I maintained a sincere friendship toward him and gave him the best counsel—that he should spare his own soul, that he should spare the safety of his children, and if there should be any of those related to him by blood, ^C lest he clearly leave an inheritance of divine wrath to them all—he considered me one of his bitterest enemies, for the very things for which he should rather have loved me as having rendered him the greatest service. And when he had the greater opportunity, having seized the scepter and being able, if he had wished, to demonstrate a nature endowed with the best of sentiments, he revealed himself to be bound by the opposite evils, showing it all to be a brief scene and a temporary spectacle. Therefore, I cannot but pursue with wonder those wise men who say that he can be steadfast and constant in love for friends, in whom there is no desire to serve glory. For he who is inflamed by the desire for glory cannot be a friend to the man himself, but only to the gathering of glory among men; for the sake of which he does everything, ^D undertakes everything, serves the times, adapts himself to any kind of fortune, and most easily changes himself after the manner of a chameleon according to the vicissitudes of the times, his mind from all sides contriving an opportunity to state his misery and to show his own trusted things to be untrusted by all. For he most easily becomes an enemy to those to whom he seemed a friend, and most easily a plotter against those to whom he recently seemed an advisor. I believe it is impossible to find anything worse in life than this, just as, conversely, there is nothing more excellent than what is noble and constant. However, all these things are governed by certain secret reasons of Providence. These things currently happening to us may be, in a certain way, a proof that wealth, glory, and independent power reveal a man’s plans and character more clearly than poverty and a life dependent upon others. For inglorious obscurity, imposed against one’s will, is like a bond that cannot be loosened at one’s own discretion.

^A Wherefore, for the most part, not only to those further away, but even to those who had associated with them for a long time, the true character of many people is unknown, since they color the face of their soul, as it were, with the studies and pursuits they present to the public. Hence, one may learn that no one to whom nature has given prudence should be called happy before he reaches the end and has exchanged life for death; nor, indeed, should Providence be blamed if any even before they have committed sins are chastened by diseases and various calamities. For God, who turns all things for the better, knows the fire of the love of glory in the soul that lies hidden as if under ashes, which, having acquired a certain strength by which it might be moved like a spark, would be about to stir up a great conflagration of wickedness. It is not, therefore, so strange or inconsistent if we, too, were deceived by the man by whom everyone at all was deceived, since one who is himself not very inclined toward wickedness is by no means easily brought to suspicion. It is, however, more to be wondered at how he endured for so long a time to serve the ways of others, while hiding his own character—a thing most difficult to contend with and, by God, hardly bearable. For if he was not good by nature, yet practiced and performed most of the good things in public, I marvel at the man's endurance. If, however, he was at that time such as he appeared, in the very state of his nature, and the change of fortune had so easily changed even this, I cannot to that extent praise such instability of nature, just as I cannot find fault with the things previously perpetrated. ^B For those things were of such a kind that anyone would love and admire them—which we ourselves also did, and have pursued them with ambitious zeal in this history. But after the occupation of the empire, he committed deeds such as anyone who wishes to live piously would hate. But God, to whom the scepters of religion are entrusted and to whom the power of exacting punishment is very readily available, will surely have His own Church in His care and at heart. For it seems superfluous to me to explain things that are known to everyone, although we have also set forth in the *Antirrhetics* the things that were done before Cantacuzenus had obtained the empire. Then we have again written down in this history some of the things that followed, acting only the part of a narrator, not of a disputant; for our own shipwrecks did not provide us with security. But if God should wish, while we are still living, to clear the sky for us and grant our tongue wide freedom, I believe that no matter will be left covered by silence by me. ^C Now, however, if you should wish, at this point, to address us as you explained to us—as was appropriate for the nature and character of the history—concerning the patriarchs and bishops throughout the world who defend the orthodox faith and teach the dogmas of piety bare-headed in the midst of the Gentiles, so you would wish to begin your discourse on these matters, whatever you have heard here since your return to the fatherland, both from the common people and from private individuals, concerning the predatory synod convened against us by the persecutors of the Church, and then what we...

^A have suffered, and how the various minds of men, whether noble or of another fortune, origin, or station of prudence, have been affected for our sake; and furthermore, that I have not ceased to respond to what is fitting for you, putting aside the weakness of my health and the sickness of my mind to hear your account. For from the time when our oppressors and the tormentors of the Church locked our doors against everyone, I have been able to learn nothing in detail of these matters until this day, although the knowledge of them is what I most desire. Therefore, returning to the subject, explain everything to me individually, adding also the time when you returned to Byzantium and when you heard each thing, so that by the ordering of the narrative, a clear knowledge of these events may emerge for both of us from every side.

XXII. "As far as the time is concerned," he says, "I returned to Byzantium after the rising of the dog-star, while summer was already ^B drawing to a close. Once I had disembarked from the ship, I came home, and there I spent fifteen consecutive days refreshing myself and gradually shaking off the hardships of travel. During these days, as various friends came to meet me and spoke with me, I learned accurately everything about that synod of which they spoke—by what method it was hastily convened, what lawless things were done there by the presiding officers who supported Palamas and openly swore false oaths, how the doctrine of a multiplicity of divinities was ratified, and indeed how the mystery of the Economy of the Incarnation was overturned. Besides other things, moreover, which should not even be brought to the ears of people who choose to live piously and moderately, there were also, of course, those things which those men, to whose lot fell the office of shepherds—concerning which shepherds the Lord said: 'The shepherds went mad, the shepherds have destroyed my vineyard' [*]—committed in a barbaric and savage manner. I also learned ^C how they had established a most horrible persecution everywhere; how, consequently, some bishops had come into discord with others, and almost all with all, as if touched by repentance and terrified by the magnitude of their own crimes, and were utterly unable to endure the insults and hostilities brought upon them from every side; and finally, how the emperor, rushing into the midst, had subjugated some with flatteries and largess, others with threats, and had drawn them to the side of Palamas and caused them to compose new tomes by which they might confirm his impiety. Since, however, if I wished to inquire and examine all other matters, I would need more leisure, I thought it best to defer these to other times, and I expended all my zeal and effort in examining these two matters only more ^D accurately: first, that I might learn why those in power had decreed that you should be enclosed in a stricter confinement than the rest; and second, what exactly had been inscribed by the bishops and the emperor in these new tomes, and why they were keeping these things, which were drafted by their own hands, among themselves, shielding them with profound silence, lest anyone should be able to examine them.