That you did not know the word nefandous is surely clear to everyone. When I had said of you that you were like a nefandous day—for I well remember comparing your character to a day of that kind

As Lucian explains below (12-13), an apophras hémera, or “nefandous day,’’ like a dies nefastus among the Latins, was a day of ill-omen on which no courts were held and no business affairs transacted. But the fact that a day can be called apophras does not in itself justify calling a man apophras, particularly as the word is of the feminine gender; and that is what Lucian obviously did (cf. § 16, and especially § 23). It might have been defended by citing the comedian Eupolis (Fr. Incert., 832M., 309K.): ‘On going out, I chanced to meet a wight nefandous (avOpwaos dmod¢pds) with a fickle eye.” Either Lucian did not know the passage, or perhaps he thought that to reply in that way would be too like a Lexiphanes. Anyhow, he elected to infuriate his critic and divert his public by being transparently disingenuous and mendacious, and entirely evading the real issue. What his talk of “comparing” amounts to is commented on in the note on § 16.

— how could you, with reference to that word, have made the stricture that I was barbarous in my speech, unless you were wholly unacquainted withit? I shall teach you presently what nefandous means ; but I say to you now what Archilochus once said: “You have caught a cicada by the wing.”

Bergk, frg. 143.

Have you ever heard of a writer of iambic verses named Archilochus, a Parian by birth, a man absolutely independent and given to frankness, who did not hesitate at all to use insulting language, no matter how much pain he was going to inflict upon those who would be exposed to the gall of his iambics? Well, when he was abused by someone of that type, he said that the man had caught a cicada by the wing, likening himself, Archilochus, to the cicada, which by nature is vociferous, even without any compulsion, but when it is caught by the wing, cries out still more lustily. “Unlucky man,” said he, “what is your idea in provoking against yourself a vociferous poet, in search of motives and themes for his iambics?”

See G. L. Hendrickson, “Archilochus and Catullus,’’ Class. Philol. (1925), 155-157. With the aid of Catullus 40, he is able to identify the poem from which Lucian quotes with the one from which we have the fragment addressed to “Father Lycambes” (Bergk, 88), and to reconstruct part of the context.

In these same terms I threaten you, not likening myself to Archilochus (how could I? I am far indeed from that!), but aware that you have done in your life hundreds of things which deserve iambics. Even Archilochus himself, I think, would not have been able to cope with them, though he invited both Simonides

Of Amorgos; his name is sometimes spelt Semonides, but not in the MSS of Lucian.

and Hipponax to take a hand with him in treating just one of your bad traits, so childish in every sort of iniquity have you made Orodocides and Lycambes and Bupalus,

Orodocides was evidently the butt of Semonides; this is the only reference to him, and the name is not wholly certain (Horodoecides N). Lycambes was satirised by Archilochus, and Bupalus by Hipponax.

their butts, appear. Probably it was one of the gods who brought the smile to your lips on that occasion at my use of the word nefandous, in order that you might become more notorious than a Scythian for being absolutely uneducated and ignorant of these obvious matters of common knowledge, and that you might afford a reasonable excuse for attacking you to an independent man who knows you thoroughly from home and will not refrain from telling—I should say, heralding abroad—all that you do by night and by day even now, in addition to those many incidents of your past.

And yet it is idle, no doubt, and superfluous to deal frankly with you by way of education; for in the first place you yourself could never improve in response to my censure, any more than a tumble-bug could be persuaded not to roll those balls of his any longer, when once he has become used to them.

On the habits of the tumble-bug, or dung-beetle, soe the beginning of the Peace of Aristophanes.

In the second place, I do not believe that anyone exists who still is ignorant of your brazen performances and of the sins that you, an old man, have committed against yourself. You are not to that extent secure or unobserved in your iniquity. There is no need of anyone to strip away your lion’s skin that you may be revealed a donkey, unless perhaps someone has just come to us from the Hyperboreans, or is sufficiently Cymaean

Cf. Runaways, 13.

not to know, as soon as he sees you, that you are the most unbridled of all asses, without waiting to hear you bray. Your doings have been noised abroad so long a time, so far ahead of me, so universally and so repeatedly; and you have no slight reputation for them, surpassing Ariphrades, surpassing the Sybarite Hemitheon, surpassing the notorious Chian, Bastas, that adept in similar matters.

Ariphrades was an Athenian whom Aristophanes pilloried for perverted relations with women, The Sybarite Hemitheon (or Minthon ; see the critical note) is alluded to as the author of an obscene book in the Ignorant Book-Collector, 23 (III, 203) and perhaps also in Ovid (Trist., II, 417 : qui composuit nuper Sybaritica), but the name is not given there. Bastas was a nickname applied to Democritus of Chios, a musician, by Eupolis in the Baptae (Fr. 81 Kock).

Nevertheless, I must speak of them, even if I shall seem to be telling stale news, in order that I may not bear the blame of being the only one who does not know about them. But no!

We must callin one of Menander’s Prologues, Exposure, a god devoted to Truth and Frankness, by no means the least notable of the characters that appear on the stage, disliked only by you and your sort, who fear his tongue because he knows everything and tells in plain language all that he knows about you.

We do not know the play in which Exposure appeared as prologue and have no other information in the matter.

It would indeed be delightful if he should prove willing to oblige us by coming forward and telling the spectators the entire argument of the play.

Come then, Exposure, best of prologues and divinities, take care to inform the audience plainly that we have not resorted to this public utterance gratuitously, or in a quarrelsome spirit, or, as the proverb has it, with unwashen feet,

Zenobius, I, 95: “going up to the roof with unwashed feet”; unexplained by the paroemiographers or Suidas. It must have to do with the use of the roof as a sleeping-place,

but to vindicate a grievance of our own as well as those of the public, hating the man for his depravity. Say only this, and present a clear exposition, and then, giving us your blessing, take yourself off, and leave the rest to us, for we shall copy you and expose the greater part of his career so thoroughly that in point of truth and frankness you can find no fault with us. But do not sing my praises to them, Exposure dear, and do not prematurely pour out the bald truth about these traits of his; for it is not fitting, as you are a god, that the words which describe matters so abominable should come upon your lips.

“This self-styled sophist” (Prologue is now speaking) “once came to Olympia, purposing to deliver to those who should attend the festival a speech which he had written long before. The subject of his composition was the exclusion of Pythagoras (by one of the Athenians, I suppose) from participation in the Eleusinian mysteries as a barbarian, because Pythagoras himself was in the habit of saying that before being Pythagoras he had once been Euphorbus.

Euphorbus was one of Homer’s Trojans. See Lucian’s Cock, 13, 17, and 20 (II, pp. 204-214).

In truth, his speech was after the pattern of Aesop’s jackdaw, cobbled up out of motley feathers from others. Wanting, of course, to have it thought that he was not repeating a stale composition but making up offhand what really came from his book, he requested one of his familiars (it was the one from Patras, who has so much business in the courts) to select Pythagoras for him when he asked for subjects to talk about. The man did so, and prevailed upon the audience to hear that speech about Pythagoras.

In the sequel, he was very unconvincing in his delivery, glibly reciting (as was natural) what he had thought out long before and learned by heart, no matter how much his shamelessness, standing by him, defended him, lent him ahelping hand, and aided him in the struggle. There was a great deal of laughter from his hearers, some of whom, by looking from time to time at that man from Patras, indicated that they had not failed to detect his part in the improvisation, while others, recognising the expressions themselves, throughout the performance continued to have that as their sole occupation, testing each other to find out how good their memories were at distinguishing which one of those sophists who achieved fame a little before our time for their so-called “exercises” was the author of each expression.

“Among all these, among those who laughed, was the writer of these words. And why should not he laugh at a piece of cheek so manifest and unconvincing and shameless? So, somehow or other, being one who cannot control his laughter, when the speaker had attuned his voice to song, as he thought, and was intoning a regular dirge over Pythagoras, our author, seeing an ass trying to play the lyre, as the saying goes, burst into a very melodious cachinnation, and the other turned and saw him. That created a state of war between them, and the recent affair sprang from it.

It was the beginning of the year, or rather, the second day after the New Year,

New Year’s Day is called in the Greek “the great New- Moon-Day.” The day of the festival on which the incident occurred was January third (a.d. III non. Ian.) For the vow of the consuls on that day, two gilded bulls for the health of the Imperial family, see Henzen, Acta Fratrum Arvalium, pp. 100-102.

the day on which the Romans, by an ancient custom, make prayers in person for the entire yearand holdsacrifices, following ceremonies which King Numaestablished for them; they are convinced that on that day beyond all others the gods give ear to those who pray. Well, on that festival and high holiday, the man who burst out laughing then in Olympia at the suppositious Pythagoras saw this contemptible cheat approaching, this presenter of the speeches of others. It happened that he knew his character, too, and all his wantonness and unclean living, both what he was said to do, and what he had been caught doing. So he said to one of his friends: ‘We must give a wide berth to this ill-met sight, whose appearance is likely to make the most delightful of all days nefandous for us.’

“Exposure,” however devoted to Truth and Frankness, here indulges in prevarication so obvious that its purpose is clearly to exasperate Lucian’s victim rather than to impose upon his public. To say that a man’s appearance would make the day apophras is not saying that he was “like that kind of day,” let alone calling him apophras. See the note on § 1, above, and that on § 16, below.

“On hearing that, the sophist at once laughed at the word nefandous as if it were strange and alien to the Greeks, and paid the man back, in his own estimation, at least, for the laughter of that former time, saying to all: ‘Nefandous! What, pray, is that? A fruit, or a herb, or a utensil? Can it be something to eat ordrink? For my part I have never heard the word, and should never be able to guess what it means.’

He thought he was directing these remarks at our friend, and he subjected ‘nefandous’ to a great deal of laughter; but he had unwittingly brought against himself the uttermost proof of his want of education. Under these circumstances he who sent me in to you in advance has written this composition to demonstrate that the renowned sophist does not know expressions common to all the Greeks, which even men in the workshops and the bazaars would know.”

Thus far Exposure. In my own turn (for I myself have now taken over the rest of the show), I might fittingly play the part of the Delphic tripod and tell what you did in your own country, what in Palestine, what in Egypt, what in Phoenicia and Syria; then, in due order, in Greece and Italy, and on top of it all, what you are now doing at Ephesus, which is the extremity of your recklessness and the culminating point and crowning glory of your character. Now that, in the words of the proverb,

If people of Troy attend tragedies, they are bound to hear about the misfortunes of the Trojans.

you who live in Troy have paid to see tragedians, it is a fitting occasion for you to hear your own misadventures.

But no! not yet. First about that ‘ nefandous.’

Tell me, in the name of Aphrodite Pandemus and the Genetyllides

Genetyllis was originally a goddess of childbirth. Hesychius says that she resembled Hecate, received sacrifices of dogs, and was of foreign origin. But in Attica, where she was worshipped in the temple of another similar divinity, Colias, the identities of the two were apparently so thoroughly merged that they could both be called either Genetyllides or Coliades, and both were more or less blended with Aphrodite.

and Cybebe, in what respect did you think the word nefandous objectionable and fit to be laughed at? Oh, because it did not belong to the Greeks, but had somehow thrust its way in among them from their intercourse with Celts or Thracians or Scyths; wherefore you—for you know everything that pertains to the Athenians—excluded it at once and banished it from the Greek world, and your laughter was because I committed a barbarism and used a foreign idiom and went beyond the Attic bounds !

“Come now, what else is as well established on Athenian soil as that word?” people would say who are better informed than you about such matters. It would be easier for you to prove Erechtheus and Cecrops foreigners and invaders of Attica, than to show that ‘ nefandous ’ is not at home and indigenous in Attica. There are many things which they designate in the same way as everybody else, but they, and they alone, designate as nefandous a day which is vile, abominable, inauspicious, useless, and like you.

There now! I have already taught you in passing what they mean by nefandous!

When official business is not transacted, introduction of lawsuits is not permissible, sacrifice of victims is not performed, and, in general, nothing is done that requires good omens, that day is nefandous.

The custom was introduced among different peoples in different ways; either they were defeated in great battles and subsequently established that those days on which they had undergone such misfortunes should be useless and invalid for their customary transactions, or, indeed—but it is inopportune, perhaps, and by now unseasonable to try to alter an old man’s education and reinstruct him in such matters when he does not know even what precedes them.

That is, he lacks even the rudiments of an education.

It can hardly be that this is all that remains, and that if you learn it, we shall have you fully informed! Nonsense, man! Not to know those other expressions which are off the beaten path and obscure to ordinary folk is pardonable ; but even if you wished, you could not say nefandous in any other way, for that is everyone’s sole and only word for it.

“Well and good,” someone will say, “but even in the case of time-honoured words, only some of them are to be employed, and not others, which are unfamiliar to the public, that we may not disturb the wits and wound the ears of our hearers.” My dear sir, perhaps as far as you are concerned I was wrong to say that to you about yourself; yes, yes, I should have followed the folk-ways of the Paphlagonians or the Cappadocians or the Bactrians in conversing with you, that you might fully understand what was being said and it might be pleasing to your ears. But Greeks, I take it, should be addressed in the Greek tongue. Moreover, although even the Athenians in course of time have made many changes in their speech, this word especially has continued to be used in this way always and by all of them.

I should have named those who have employed the word before our time, were I not certain to disturb you in this way also, by reciting names of poets and rhetoricians and historians that would be foreign to you, and beyond your ken. No, I shall not name those who have used it, for they are known to all; but do you point me out one of the ancients who has not employed the word and your statue shall be set up, as the saying goes, in gold at Olympia. Indeed, any old man, full of years, who is unacquainted with such expressions is not, I think, even aware that the city of Athens is in Attica, Corinth at the Isthmus, and Sparta in the Peloponnese.

It remains, perhaps, for you to say that you knew the word, but criticised the inappropriate use of it. Come now, on this point too I shall respond to you fittingly, and you must pay attention, unless not knowing matters very little to you. The ancients were before me in hurling many such taunts at the like of you, each at the men of their day; for in that time too there were, of course, dirty fellows, disgusting traits, and ungentle dispositions. One man called a certain person “Buskin,” comparing his principles, which were adaptable, to that kind of footwear ; another called a man “Rampage” because he was a turbulent orator and disturbed the assembly, and another someone else “Seventh Day” because he acted in the assemblies as children do on the seventh day of the month, joking and making fun and turning the earnestness of the people into jest.

The nickname “Buskin” was given to Theramenes. “Seventh Day” cannot be identified, and the other nickname is corrupted in the Greek text.

Will you not, then, in the name of Adonis, permit me to compare an utterly vile fellow, familiar with every form of iniquity, to a disreputable and inauspicious day ?

Stripped of its manifest disingenuousness (for comparison includes both simile and metaphor, and the use of simile would have been entirely unexceptionable), this amounts to defending what he said as Ry legitimate use of metaphor, like calling a man “Buskin.’? The argument would be valid if he had called the man “Apophras hémera!’’ But since we may safely say that he addressed him or spoke about him simply as “apophras,” the examples are not parallel, despite the speciousness of “hebdomas” (“Seventh Day”), formally identical with “apophras.” The one locution, however, is metaphor, because “day” is understood; in the other, that is not the case, and instead of metaphor what we have to do with is an application of the adjective grammatically incorrect and really justifiable only by pleading previous use—which might have been done by adducing Eupolis (see § 1, note).

We avoid those who are lame in the right foot, especially if we should see them early in the morning; and if anyone should see a cut priest or a eunuch or a monkey immediately upon leaving the house, he returns upon his tracks and goes back, auguring that his daily business for that day will not be successful, thanks to the bad and inauspicious omen at the start. But in the beginning of the whole year, at its door, on its first going forth, in its early morning, if one should see a profligate who commits and submits to unspeakable practices, notorious for it, broken in health, and all but called by the name of his actions themselves, a cheat, a swindler, a perjurer, a pestilence, a pillory, a pit,

That is to say, approximately, a whipping-stock, a gallowsbird; hurling into a pit was a form of capital punishment in many cities of Greece.

will not one shun him, will not one compare him to a nefandous day ?

Well, are you not such a person? You will not deny it, if I know your boldness; indeed, it seems to me that you are actually vain over the fact that you have not lost the glory of your exploits, but are conspicuous to all and have made a great noise. If, however, you should offer opposition and should deny that you are such a person, who will believe what you say? The people of your native city (for it is fitting to begin there)? No, they knew about your first source of livelihood, and how you gave yourself over to that pestilential soldier and shared his depravity, serving him in every way until, after reducing you to a torn rag, as the saying goes, he thrust you out.

And of course they remember also the effrontery that you displayed in the theatre, when you acted secondary parts for the dancers and thought you were leader of the company.

This man played parts like that of the Odysseus who, as we are told in The Dance, § 83, had his head broken by the pantomimic dancer who was enacting Ajax gone mad. Such parts did not involve dancing (cf. daoxplywy, above), but were not silent—a point made perfectly clear by another allusion to them in § 25 of this piece. Three of the réles in which Lucian’s butt appeared are named there; Ninus, Metiochus, and Achilles. See the note on that passage.

Nobody might enter the theatre before you, or indicate the name of the play ; you were sent in first, very properly arrayed, wearing golden sandals and the robe of a tyrant, to beg for favour from the audience, winning wreaths and making your exit amid applause, for already you were held in esteem by them. But now you are a public speaker and a lecturer! So those people, if ever they hear such a thing as that about you, believe they see two suns, as in the tragedy,

Euripides, Bacchae, 913.

and twin cities of Thebes, and everyone is quick to say, “That man who then—, and after that—?” Therefore you do well in not going there at all or living in their neighbourhood, but of your own accord remaining in exile from your native city, thoughit is neither “bad in winter” not “oppressive in summer,”

It was therefore unlike Ascra, the home of Hesiod, which was both. Works and Days, 640.

but the fairest and largest of all the cities in Phoenicia. To be put to the proof, to associate with those who know and remember your doings of old, is truly as bad as a halter in your sight. And yet, why do I make that silly statement? What would you consider shameful, of all that goes beyond the limit? I am told that you have a great estate there—that ill-conditioned tower, to which the jar of the man of Sinope

More familiar to us as the tub of Diogenes.

would be the great hall of Zeus !

In view of all this, you can never by any means persuade your fellow-citizens not to think you the most odious man in the world, a common disgrace to the whole city.

Could you, though, perhaps win over the other inhabitants of Syria to vote for you if you said that you had done nothing bad or culpable in your life? Heracles! Antioch was an eye-witness of your misconduct with that youth from Tarsus whom you took aside—but to unveil these matters is no doubt shameful for me. However, it is known about and remembered by those who surprised the pair of you then and saw him doing—you know what, unless you are absolutely destitute of memory.