Verae historiae
Lucian of Samosata
Selections from Lucian. Smith, Emily James, translator. New York; Harper Brothers, 1892.
The third case was a question of precedence between Alexander, son of Philip, and Hannibal the Carthaginian. It was decided that the pas belonged to Alexander, and a chair was set for him beside Cyros the Elder, of Persia.
As the fourth case we were brought forward. He asked what circumstances had brought us, still living men, within sacred precincts, and we told him the whole story in order. He then sent us aside for some time and considered our case, discussing it with his colleagues; for many others were on the bench with him, and among them Aristides the Just, of Athens. He announced his decision as follows: we were to pay, after death, the penalty for our curiosity and our voyage; but for the period fixed by him we might stay in the island and dwell with the heroes, and then take ourselves off. He set the day of our departure at not more than seven months' distance.
Thereupon the garlands fell from us of their own accord, leaving us free, and we were led into the city, and to the banquet-hall of the blest. The city itself is all of gold, but the wall around it is of emerald. There were seven gates, each a single piece of cinnamon. But the streets of the city and the ground within the walls were ivory. The temples of all the gods were built of beryll
For garments the people wear delicate purple spiders' webs. They themselves have no bodies; they are impalpable and fleshless, and present to the eye nothing but a shape, a contour. But although they are thus disembodied, they yet have consistency, move, reason, and utter speech. In fact, it is just as though their naked souls were walking about, wearing the likeness of their bodies. At any rate, unless you should lay hold of one of them, you would not detect that what your eye rested on was incorporeal. They are like shadows, except that they are upright and not dark. No one grows old; each remains at the age he had when he came. Nor is there any night with them, or very bright day either, for the light that pervades the land is like that white radiance of dawn before the sun has risen. Moreover, they know only one time of year, for it is always spring there, and the south wind is the only one that blows.
The country blooms with all sorts of flowers and of green things, too, cultivated
The place of their banquets is outside the city, in what is called the Elysian Field. It is a very beautiful meadow surrounded by a dense wood of all sorts of trees, which shade the guests as they lie beneath them on beds of blossoms. The winds wait upon the guests and serve them with everything but wine. This they need not serve, for surrounding the place are great trees of the clearest crystal, and the fruits of these trees are wine-cups of every sort of workmanship and size. So that, when any one comes to table, he gathers one or two of the cups and sets them beside him, and they are straightway filled with wine. This, then, is the manner of their drinking, and as for garlands, they have none, but the nightingales and other tuneful birds gather flowers from the neighboring meadows in their beaks, and let them
At the feast they amuse themselves with music and singing, and their favorites are the songs of Homer; for he is there in person and feasts with them, sitting next above Odysseus. The choruses are composed of youths and maidens, and Eunomos of Lokris, Arion of Lesbos, Anakreon and Stesichoros conduct them and sing with them. For Stesichoros, too, I saw there, as Helen had already made it up with him. When these cease singing a second chorus comes forward, composed of swans and swallows and nightingales. As soon as they begin to sing, the whole forest, set going by the winds, accompanies them on the flute.
But the greatest incentive they have to good cheer is this: there are two springs near the feasting-place, one of laughter and the other of pleasure. Every one drinks from each of these at the beginning of the merry-making, and the rest of the time is spent with pleasure and laughter.
I wish to tell you, also, what famous persons I saw there. There were all the demi-gods and the
Aristippos, however, and Epicuros held the greatest honors there, because they were charming and agreeable and most convivial. Aesop the Phrygian was there, too, and held the office of court-jester. Diogenes of Sinope had so altered his ways as to marry Lais, the courtesan,
These, then, were the most noteworthy people there. The person most looked up to was Achilles, and next after him Theseus.
Before more than two or three days had passed I approached Homer, the poet, when we were both at leisure, and asked him several questions; among others, what his birthplace was, telling him that this was a great subject of research among us to this day. He said he was aware already that some believe he was born in Chios,