Delphi Complete Works of Sidonius Apollinaris, page 2
And now thy father was numbered with the gods; but thou hadst no craving for empire; the diadem after a long rejection chose out an illustrious man, one whom thou couldst not slight when he in his turn chose thee. Fortune hath given thee this unique honour, that although the order of succession demanded thee, thou art looked on as a prince chosen, not as a prince by inheritance. Thou reignest after an Augustus who was thy wife’s father, but the purple came not to thee by thy marriage; thy royal bride hath been rather the glory of thy royalty than its cause, for when the commonwealth chose thee to wield the reins of state it was for thy kingly soul, not for thy kin. My judgment errs if the four quarters of the earth do not approve the choice; the West seeks thee, the East sends thee, as ruler; thou fightest in the North and art feared in the South.
But I would fain touch on the triumphs that the Illyrian region beheld before thy colleague made thee his partner, when that land, deserted, as it chanced, through a Roman leader’s fault, was bemoaning its devastation by the arms of Walamir. Even so was it in former days when Caepio’s slaughter had given up Ausonia’s best warriors to the enemy; the terrified commonwealth, compelled by that crashing blow, essayed to choose a leader; ’twas after the strangling of Jugurtha, and they set against the frenzied Cimbrian the batman from Arpinum who had avenged Calpurnius’ treaty.
Thereupon the province, beholding thine eagles, ceased of a sudden to shudder at the dragons of the foe. Straightway crushed in war and reft of their spoil they in their turn were spoils for thee, lying prostrate at thy feet.
But such folk I pass by as mere raiders; rather do I now relate the exploits of a real war; which war no small band contrived, no Spartacus, bondsman destined for the gladiator’s work, who had burst open his prison, but a roaming multitude from Scythian clime, teeming with savagery, frightful, ravening, violent, barbarous even in the eyes of the barbarian peoples around them, a race whose leader was Hormidac, a man of their own nation. Their land, their habits and their origin were after this manner.
Where the white Tanais, driven down through the valleys of the far north, falls from the Riphaean crags, in the region of the Bear, there dwells a race with menace in heart and limbs; for truly the very faces of their infants have a gruesomeness all their own. Their heads are great round masses rising to a narrow crown; in two hollows beneath the brow resides their sight, but the eyes are far to seek; the light, as it forces its way into the arched recesses in the skull, can scarce reach those retreating orbs — retreating, but not shut; for from that vault of narrow space they enjoy a spacious vision, and pellucid pin-points in those sunken wells give all the service that an ampler light could bring. Moreover, the nostrils, while still soft, are blunted by an encircling band, to prevent the two passages from growing outward between the cheek-bones, that thus they may make room for the helmets; for those children are born for battles, and a mother’s love disfigures them, because the area of the cheeks stretches and expands when the nose does not intervene. The rest of the men’s bodies is comely; chest large and firm, fine shoulders, compact stomach beneath the flanks. On foot their stature is middling, but it towers aloft if you view them on horseback: thus are they often deemed long of frame when seated. Scarce has the infant learnt to stand without his mother’s aid when a horse takes him on his back. You would think the limbs of man and beast were born together, so firmly does the rider always stick to the horse, just as if he were fastened to his place: any other folk is carried on horseback, this folk lives there. Shapely bows and arrows are their delight, sure and terrible are their hands; firm is their confidence that their missiles will bring death, and their frenzy is trained to do wrongful deeds with blows that never go wrong. This people had burst forth in a sudden invasion; they had come, crossing with wheels the solid Danube, marking the moistureless waters with ruts. Straight against them didst thou go, as they roamed through the Dacian fields; thou didst attack and vanquish and hem them in; and soon as Serdica beheld thee with thine encampment laid out, thou didst straitly besiege them. The town marvelled at thee as thou didst tarry thus for long within the rampart, because thy soldiers went not forth into the fields in regular or stealthy raids. Though oft they lacked corn and always wine, they lacked not discipline; hence though the foe was nigh they feared their general more. So at length it came to pass that he who chanced to be thine ally then but straightway played thee false gained nothing when he retreated before the foe at the first onset; for when he had begun to flee, turning aside and laying bare the wings, thou didst stand thy ground, a host in thyself; ‘ to thee did those warriors rally whom their captains flight had scattered, back to thee came the cavalry as thou didst toil and sweat, fighting on foot; and following thy standards the soldiers felt that they were not deserted in the fray.
Go to now, ancient generation of our fathers! Proclaim, if ye will, the praises of old Tullus, for that he lied in a noble exhortation and concealed the collapse of the treaty with the deserter Mettus! There is nothing like that here; thou, Anthemius, wouldst not choose to have even thine enemy misled. ‘Those old-time soldiers conquered in the belief that they would be aided; but these conquered in the knowledge that they were deserted. The captain flees; thou dost pursue; he renews the fray; thou conquerest; he shuts himself in; thou dost storm his entrenchment; he slips away; thou dost overwhelm him, and dost demand his life as the price of peace with the Sarmatians. Thy will is done, and straightway the deserter has suffered the death decreed and has fallen — thy victim, though slain by a foreign sword. Come now, Antiquity! Enter the contest once more, if it please thee!
When the surrender of the bold Hannibal was claimed by those that would punish him, though in that last hour he had not power to live, yet had he power to determine his death; and so, when the dark dungeon awaited him, and the iron hook, and the lictor appointed to break the prisoner’s neck, he swallowed the poison, a stauncher man than his Bithynian host: but the man that deserted thee was cut off by a death that had been commanded, and it was a judge’s rather than a victor’s lips that sealed his doom.
Now grant thy presence, Paean Apollo, whose hook-beaked gryphons the well-schooled curb doth constrain with its bond of laurel, whensoever thou wieldest thy leafy reins and guidest their winged shoulders with double-hued ivy! Hither direct thy lyre! It is not now the time to sing of Python’s destruction or to hymn the twice seven wounds of the Niobids — victims whose dooms are preserved to thine honour in song, so that their deaths live in deathless poesy. Ye Muses, likewise, reveal in brief words by what divine power Anthemius came to us with a covenant made by the two realms; an empire’s peace hath sent him to conduct our wars.
By nature’s law Severus had been added to the ranks of the gods. Oenotria, when from the crags of towering Apennine she beheld this calamity, hied her to the glassy abode of blue Tiber. She had not encased her cheeks in a helmet (and she wore no hauberk fashioned with stitched rings of tight-driven hooks), but bared was her head. Instead of hair there overran her forehead a vine-branch with clustered grapes, binding fast her many towns, and along her shapely shoulders and radiant arms jewelled brooches gripped her flowing robe. The slowness of old age was in her gait, and she held as a staff an elm covered with vine-foliage, and guided her venerable limbs thereby. Yet Abundance attended her; wherever she drew nigh, with her coming she spread fruitfulness over her path, and Vintage, accompanying her steps, joyfully made the juice rise wherever her feet trod.
So she entered the cave of Tiber’s stream. There sat the running river. On his green hair drifted a like-hued clump of tall reeds. The water sounded as it fell from his chin, though a beard of shaggy bristles underneath did much to dull the roar. From his breast he threw out streams, and falling more rapidly the flood now furious furrowed his soaking stomach. As the goddess drew nigh fear seized him; his hands relaxed, and the urn and the oar fell from them. He was devising words of excuse when she broke in: “I come that through thee, if it please thee, I may sway by my tears Rome, now bereft of our ruler. I would have her turn to the region of Dawn; let her put her disdain aside and by granting this one thing deserve even greater love. Teach her what strength she must enlist, and tell her in what world she must crave a head for her own stricken world. Whenever Fortune hath chosen a man born in my clime, she hath instantly broken the wheels of his empire. On this side the Vandal foe presses hard; and every year he wars with multitudinous navy to destroy us; the natural order hath been reversed, and now parched Byrsa launches against me the frenzy of the Caucasus. Yea more, unconquerable Ricimer, to whom the destiny of our nation looks for safety, doth barely drive back with his own unaided force the pirate that ranges over our lands, that ever avoids battles and plays a conqueror’s part by flight. Who could brook an enemy that refuses both concord and combat? For never does he make a treaty with Ricimer. Hear now why he hates our leader with such exceeding hate. His father is unknown, yet he prates ever of him, since ’tis well known his mother was a slave-woman. So now, to make himself out a king’s son, he proclaims his mother’s shame. He is jealous also because two kingdoms call Ricimer to kingly power, Suevian as he is on the father’s side, Gothic on the mother’s. He likewise remembers this, that Wallia, grandsire of Ricimer, laid low on Spanish soil the Vandal squadrons and the Alans, their comrades in the war, and their corpses covered Calpe in the far west. But why tell of ancient routs, of the losses of bygone generations? Nay, he calls to mind the havoc of Agrigentum’s plain. Madly he rages because his adversary has amply proved himself the grandchild of that hero at sight of whom the Vandal did ever turn in flight. No whit more glorious didst thou, Marcellus, return from Sicilian lands, thou through whom our arms did beset the homes of Syracuse by land and sea; or thou, Metellus, whose fortune it was to outdo the triumph of Curius, when thou didst display to us a throng of elephants, and the dusky herd screened the white chariot-steeds with their mighty bulk, and the triumphal parade hid the winner of the triumph. If the Norican is restraining the Ostrogoth, it is that Ricimer is feared; if Gaul ties down the armed might of the Rhine, it is he that inspires the dread; and because the Vandal foe plundered me while the Alan, his kinsman, swept off what remained, this man took vengeance by the force of his own arms. But he is only one man; alone he cannot remove these perils, but only delay their day; we need now an armed prince who in the manner of our sires shall not order wars but wage them, one before whom land and sea shall quake when he advances his standards, so that at last with power regained the Roman war-trump may direct Rome’s dormant navies.”
Father Tiber heard and heeded. To the city he went and straightway with his own eyes beheld the goddess, and bowed in humble adoration, so that his horns touched her breast and her uncovered bosom.
Then he delivered his message of entreaty, and the goddess, compliant, made ready for the journey. tern was her look as she bound up her flowing hair; then she shut in her towers and hid them under a helmet; laurel formed her fillet. Her belt, rough with shield-studs taken from enemies, made fast a sword, which rose high on her left side. Her conquering arm was thrust into a shield, whose orb was filled with the twin sons of Mars, with the wolf and Tiber and Love and Mars and Ilia. A clasp fixes with gripping tooth the raiment that retreats back from her breast. Her threatening spear flashes, and an oak bowed down with trophies sways and tires the goddess under its welcome burden. The covering of her sole is of one piece, but this strip is not carried beyond the tips of the toes; the great toe sends two strings upward from its encircled socket in opposite directions, so that they bind the sandal tight and, with the side-loops drawn together, weave a curving mesh of ties up the leg. In this guise, then, she was wafted through the clear bright air, seeking the warm rising-place of the nascent sun.
There is a region by Ocean’s shore, nigh to the distant Indians, under the eastern sky, stretching towards the Nabataean wind. Perpetual spring is there, the ground is not made pale by any invading seasons of cold; the fields bedizened with ever-blooming flowers know not the frosts of strange lands. The countryside is fragrant with roses, and throughout those unowned and undivided fields a sweet aroma breathes. The plains ever bring forth violets, clover, thyme, privet, lilies, narcissus, casia, culcas, marigold, costum, malobathrum, myrrh, balm, frankincense. Yea, when old age knocks at his door, the phoenix that dwells hard by seeks from hence the cinnamon that brings a new life. Here the home of Aurora, overlaid with plates of flashing gold, displays withal smooth pearls on its broken surface. On all sides are things to capture the gaze, and, thanks to their masterly artistry, whatsoever meets the eye seems to surpass the rest. But all that beauty is dimmed in the presence of its mistress, who with her blushing radiance destroys the diverse fires of the gems, because she has fires of her own. Her combed hair poured forth saffron hues; her arm was bent as the comb sank in and arranged the yellow tresses on her temples. Her eyes poured forth rays; fiery their hue, but the heat of fire was not there, although when night is shaken off the dews received from it are wont to have a semblance of sweat. Her bosom was girdled by a double band, and even the fold in her robe mocked the smallness of her breasts. The lower part of the dress extended its crimson folds down to her rosy knees.
Thus she sits, a queen on her throne, but instead of sceptre the shaft of a lamp fills her right hand. Night stands near the goddess, with her feet already turning to flee, and behind the dais Light scarce perceived is beginning to reveal the topmost peak. When from hence the goddess saw Rome drawing nigh through the cloudless air, she sprang up in haste and was the first to speak, thus beginning with kindly words: “O head of the world, why dost thou revisit my kingdom? What are thy commands?” The other was silent for a brief space, then thus began, mingling harsh and gentle phrase: “I come (cease to be thus perturbed, and be not grievously alarmed), not that Araxes, mastered by me, may have to flow beneath a bridge forced upon it, nor that in the ancient manner the Indian Ganges may be drunk from an Italian helmet, nor that a consul, ranging through the fields of tiger-haunted Niphates, home of archers, may triumphantly despoil Artaxata by the Caspian Sea. I do not now beg for the realm of Porus, nor that these arms may thrust a battering-ram to shatter Erythrae on the bank of the Hydaspes. I am not hurling myself against Bactra, nor are the gates of Semiramis’ town laughing to hear our trumpets starting the fight. I crave not the palaces of Persian kings, nor is word being passed in camp of mine to march on Ctesiphon. All this region we have yielded up to thee. Do I not even thus deserve that thou protect mine old age? All that lies between Euphrates and Tigris thou hast long possessed alone; yet that possession was bought by me with the blood of Crassus; at Carrhae I paid down the price; nor did I remain unavenged nor lose the land thus bought; if my word is not good, Sapor hath proved it, slain by Ventidius. Nor is this enough. I gave up the Armenias and Pontus — by what martial might assailed, let Sulla tell thee; perchance one man’s word is not enough, then ask Lucullus. I keep silence now about all the Cyclades — but Crete, which my Metellus won, is thrall to thee. I made over to thee the Cilicians, yet Magnus had routed them long ago. To Syria I added the Isaurians, whom thou governest now, yet these likewise Servilius subdued beneath our arms. I yielded up to thee Aetolia’s ancient race and the lands where Achelous flows; with ill-starred trustfulness I handed over to thee the bequest of Attalus. Thou dost hold Epirus, though thou knowest who won the title to it from Pyrrhus. I see thee extending thy rule to Illyricum and the land of the Macedonians, and yet descendants of Paulus still live. I gave thee the corn of Egypt, though Agrippa had conquered the land for me long since in the strait of Leucas. Judea is held beneath thy sway, as if it were thou that hadst sent there the glorious Titus and his sire. To thee is the revenue of Cyprus brought, while I in poverty belaud my warlike Catos. The Dorian land and Achaia’s fields tremble before thee, and thou stretchest thy prosperous sovereignty to where Corinth lies between the two seas: pray tell me this — what Byzantine Mummius did this work for thee?
“But if haply it please thee to lay old grievances to rest, grant me Anthemius. In these lands let Leo be emperor, and long may he reign! But let my laws be in the hands of him whom I have asked of thee; and let the star of her deified father rejoice that Euphemia his daughter is robed in the purple of her ancestors! Add also a private compact to our public one: let a parent who is Emperor be blessed by having his daughter wedded to Ricimer. Both shine with the lustre of high rank; in her ye have a royal lady, in him I have a man of royal blood. If thou dost willingly agree to this, thou shalt permit me to hope for Libya anon. Survey the nuptials of olden time, and no union such as this event can offer itself to thy view. Here let Greèce bring forward, unless she be ashamed, those marriages of her ancients which were won by peril. Let Pisa bring back her four-horse chariot and revive Oenomaus, who fell by a daughter’s guile, when the waxen linch-pins betrayed him, unloosing the axles; let the maid of Colchis come forward, who was brought to her husband’s knowledge by her crime before he knew her as a woman; let Atalanta gaze on her pale suitors from the starting-place in the circus and no longer gather the apples of the comely Hippomenes for their gold alone; let Achelous, with the oil of the wrestling-school upon him, glorify the nuptials of Deianira, and, clasped tightly by the panting Hercules, refresh his wearied adversary with spiteful spate: recall as I may the marriages of the olden time, this man excels all the god-descended heroes, she the heroines. Valour hath this union in her charge; she demands it for thee, Ricimer, and thus the laurel of Mars bestows on thee the myrtle of Venus. Come then, deliver to me this man who neither cherishes lazy ease nor is numbed by indulgence, but who even now is harassed by the heaving deep, by the bay of Abydos and the shore of Sestos with the tempests of the Hellespont roaring all around. Not so firmly, methinks, was this narrow sea held even by him who burst through Athos and with his Median oarsmen made his swelling sails rush through wooded mountains; nor was this strait so hemmed by Lucullus’ ships when before famed Cyzicus idly lingered that enemy who when hunger pressed him devoured the bodies of his kin and thus lived by the death of his own. But why do I delay the fulfilment of my prayer? Rather deliver him now to me!”
