Hippolytus (910-983)

this would I learn of thee, father. Art dumb? silence availeth not in trouble; nay, for the heart that fain would know all must show its curiosity even in sorrow’s hour. Be sure it is not right, father,

to hide misfortunes from those who love, ay, more than love thee.

O ye sons of men, victims of a thousand idle errors, why teach your countless crafts, why scheme and seek to find a way for everything, while one thing ye know not nor ever yet have made your prize,

a way to teach them wisdom whose souls are void of sense?

A very master in his craft the man, who can force fools to be wise! But these ill-timed subtleties of thine, father, make me fear thy tongue is running riot through trouble.

Fie upon thee! man needs should have some certain test set up to try his friends, some touchstone of their hearts, to know each friend whether he be true or false; all men should have two voices, one the voice of honesty, expediency’s the other,

so would honesty confute its knavish opposite, and then we could not be deceived.

Say, hath some friend been slandering me and hath he still thine ear? am I, though guiltless, banned? I am amazed indeed;

thy random, frantic words fill me with wild alarm.

O the mind of mortal man! to what lengths will it proceed? What limit will its bold assurance have? for if it goes on growing as man’s life advances, and each successor outdo the man before him

in villainy, the gods will have to add another sphere unto the world, which shall take in the knaves and villains.

Behold this man; he, my own son, hath outraged mine honour, his guilt most clearly proved

by my dead wife. Now, since thou hast dared this loathly crime, come, look thy father in the face. Art thou the man who dost with gods consort, as one above the vulgar herd? art thou the chaste and sinless saint?

Thy boasts will never persuade me to be guilty of attributing ignorance to gods. Go then, vaunt thyself, and drive1[*] thy petty trade in viands formed of lifeless food; take Orpheus for thy chief and go a-revelling, with all honour for the vapourings of many a written scroll,

seeing thou now art caught. Let all beware, I say, of such hypocrites! who hunt their prey with fine words, and all the while are scheming villainy. She is dead; dost think that this will save thee? Why this convicts thee more than all, abandoned wretch!

What oaths, what pleas can outweigh this letter, so that thou shouldst ’scape thy doom? Thou wilt assert she hated thee, that ’twixt the bastard and the true-born child nature has herself put war; it seems then by thy showing she made a sorry bargain with her life,

if to gratify her hate of thee she lost what most she prized. ’Tis said, no doubt, that frailty finds no place in man but is innate in woman; my experience is, young men are no more secure than women, whenso the Queen of Love excites a youthful breast;

although their sex comes in to help them.[*] Yet why do I thus bandy words with thee, when before me lies the corpse, to be the clearest witness? Begone at once, an exile from this land, and ne’er set foot again in god-built Athens

nor in the confines of my dominion. For if I am tamely to submit to this treatment from such as thee, no more will Sinis,[*] robber of the Isthmus, bear me witness how I slew him, but say my boasts are idle, nor will those rocks Scironian, that fringe the sea,

call me the miscreants’ scourge.

I know not how to call happy any child of man; for that which was first has turned and now is last.

Father, thy wrath and the tension of thy mind are terrible; yet this charge, specious though its arguments appear,