Who and of whom art thou, O woman, that liest under the Parian column?

Prexo, daughter of Calliteles. And of what country? Of Samos. And also who buried thee? Theocritus, to whom my parents gave me in marriage.

And of what diedst thou? Of child-birth. How old? Two-and-twenty. And childless? Nay, but I left a three-year-old Calliteles. May he live at least and come to great old age. And to thee, O stranger, may Fortune give all prosperity.

L ON AMAZONIA OF THESSALONICA AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Why idly bemoaning linger you by my tomb? nothing worthy of lamentation is mine among the dead. Cease from plaints and be at rest, O husband, and you my children fare well, and keep the memory of Amazonia.

LI ON A LACEDAEMONIAN NURSE AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Here earth holds the Peloponnesian woman who was the most faithful nurse of the children of Diogeitus.

LII ON A LYDIAN SLAVE DIOSCORIDES

A Lydian am I, yes a Lydian, but in a free tomb, O my master, thou didst lay thy fosterer Timanthes; prosperously mayest thou lengthen out an unharmed life, and if under the hand of old age thou shalt come to me, I am thine, O master, even in the grave.

LIII ON A PERSIAN SLAVE AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Even now beneath the earth I abide faithful to thee, yes my master, as before, forgetting not thy kindness, in that then thou broughtest me thrice out of sickness to safe foothold, and now didst lay me here beneath sufficient shelter, calling me by name, Manes the Persian; and for thy good deeds to me thou shalt have servants readier at need.

LIV ON A FAVOURITE DOG AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Thou who pa.s.sest on the path, if haply thou dost mark this monument, laugh not, I pray thee, though it is a dog's grave; tears fell for me, and the dust was heaped above me by a master's hands, who likewise engraved these words on my tomb.

LV ON A MALTESE WATCH-DOG TYMNES

Here the stone says it holds the white dog from Melita, the most faithful guardian of Eumelus; Bull they called him while he was yet alive; but now his voice is prisoned in the silent pathways of night.

LVI ON A TAME PARTRIDGE AGATHIAS

No longer, poor partridge migrated from the rocks, does thy woven house hold thee in its thin withies, nor under the sparkle of fresh- faced Dawn dost thou ruffle up the edges of thy basking wings; the cat bit off thy head, but the rest of thee I s.n.a.t.c.hed away, and she did not fill her greedy jaw; and now may the earth cover thee not lightly but heavily, lest she drag out thy remains.

LVII ON A THESSALIAN HOUND SIMONIDES

Surely even as thou liest dead in this tomb I deem the wild beasts yet fear thy white bones, huntress Lycas; and thy valour great Pelion knows, and splendid Ossa and the lonely peaks of Cithaeron.

LVIII ON CHARIDAS OF CYRENE CALLIMACHUS

Does Charidas in truth sleep beneath thee? If thou meanest the son of Arimmas of Cyrene, beneath me. O Charidas, what of the under world?

Great darkness. And what of the resurrection? A lie. And Pluto? A fable; we perish utterly. This my tale to you is true; but if thou wilt have the pleasant one of the Samian, I am a large ox in Hades.

LIX ON THEOGNIS OF SINOPE SIMONIDES

I am the monument of Theognis of Sinope, over whom Glaucus set me in guerdon of their long fellowship.

LX ON A DEAD FRIEND AUTHOR UNKNOWN

This little stone, good Sabinus, is the record of our great friendship; ever will I require thee; and thou, if it is permitted, drink not among the dead of the water of Lethe for me.

LXI ON AN UNHAPPY MAN AUTHOR UNKNOWN

I Dionysius of Tarsus lie here at sixty, having never married; and would that my father had not.

LXII ON A CRETAN MERCHANT SIMONIDES

I Brotachus of Gortyna, a Cretan, lie here, not having come hither for this, but for traffic.

LXIII ON SAON OF ACANTHUS CALLIMACHUS

Here Saon, son of Dicon of Acanthus, rests in a holy sleep; say not that the good die.

CHAPTER IV

LITERATURE AND ART

I THE GROVE OF THE MUSES AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Say thou that this grave is consecrate to the Muses, pointing to the books by the plane-trees, and that we guard it; and if a true lover of ours come hither, we crown him with our ivy.

II THE VOICE OF THE WORLD ANTIPATER OF SIDON

The herald of the prowess of heroes and the interpreter of the immortals, a second sun on the life of Greece, Homer, the light of the Muses, the ageless mouth of all the world, lies hid, O stranger, under the sea-washed sand.

III THE TALE OF TROY ALPHEUS

Still we hear the wail of Andromache, still we see all Troy toppling from her foundations, and the battling of Ajax, and Hector, bound to the horses, dragged under the city's crown of towers, through the Muse of Maeonides, the poet with whom no one country adorns herself as her own, but the zones of both worlds.

IV ORPHEUS ANTIPATER OF SIDON

No longer, Orpheus, wilt thou lead the charmed oaks, no longer the rocks nor the lordless herds of the wild beasts; no longer wilt thou lull the roaring of the winds, nor hail and sweep of snowstorms nor dashing sea; for thou perishedst; and the daughters of Mnemosyne wept sore for thee, and thy mother Calliope above all. Why do we mourn over dead sons, when not even G.o.ds avail to ward off Hades from their children?