Lucian of Samosata · On the Dance Περὶ ὀρχήσεως

Lucian of Samosata, On the Dance 17–34: The dance among the Indians, Egyptians and Greeks; tragedy and comedy

Lycinus shows that the Indians greet the sun with dance and that the Egyptian Proteus was a dancer, and he describes the Roman Salii. He quotes Homer, Hesiod and the example of Socrates in praise of dancing, and answers Crato's praise of tragedy and comedy by comparing the masks and dances of each with the dancer's. He ends by explaining why he has left so much unsaid.

Sections 17–34 · 1717 words · click a number to copy its link

Λυκῖνος καὶ τί σοι τοὺς Ἕλληνας λέγω, ὅπου καὶ Ἰνδοὶ ἐπειδὰν ἕωθεν ἀναστάντες προσεύχωνται τὸν Ἥλιον, οὐχ ὥσπερ ἡμεῖς τὴν χεῖρα κύσαντες ἡγούμεθα ἐντελῆ ἡμῶν εἶναι τὴν εὐχήν, ἀλλʼ ἐκεῖνοι πρὸς τὴν ἀνατολὴν στάντες ὀρχήσει τὸν Ἥλιον ἀσπάζονται, σχηματίζοντες ἑαυτοὺς σιωπῇ καὶ μιμούμενοι τὴν χορείαν τοῦ θεοῦ· καὶ τοῦτʼ ἐστιν Ἰνδῶν καὶ εὐχὴ καὶ χοροὶ καὶ θυσία. διὸ καὶ τούτοις ἱλεοῦνται τὸν θεὸν δίς, καὶ ἀρχομένης καὶ δυομένης τῆς ἡμέρας.

Λυκῖνος Αἰθίοπες δέ γε καὶ πολεμοῦντες σὺν ὀρχήσει αὐτὸ δρῶσιν, καὶ οὐκ ἂν ἀφείη τὸ βέλος Αἰθίοψ ἀνὴρ ἀφελὼν τῆς κεφαλῆς — ταύτῃ γὰρ ἀντὶ φαρέτρας χρῶνται περιδέοντες αὐτῇ ἀκτινηδὸν τὰ βέλη — εἰ μὴ πρότερον ὀρχήσαιτο καὶ τῷ σχήματι ἀπειλήσειε καὶ προεκφοβήσειε τῇ ὀρχήσει τὸν πολέμιον.

Λυκῖνος ἄξιον δέ, ἐπεὶ τὴν Ἰνδικὴν καὶ τὴν Αἰθιοπίαν διεξεληλύθαμεν, καὶ ἐς τὴν γείτονα αὐτῶν Αἴγυπτον καταβῆναι τῷ λόγῳ. δοκεῖ γάρ μοι ὁ παλαιὸς μῦθος καὶ Πρωτέα τὸν Αἰγύπτιον οὐκ ἄλλο τι ἢ ὀρχηστήν τινα γενέσθαι λέγειν, μιμητικὸν ἄνθρωπον καὶ πρὸς πάντα σχηματίζεσθαι καὶ μεταβάλλεσθαι δυνάμενον, ὡς καὶ ὕδατος ὑγρότητα μιμεῖσθαι καὶ πυρὸς ὀξύτητα ἐν τῇ τῆς κινήσεως σφοδρότητι καὶ λέοντος ἀγριότητα καὶ παρδάλεως θυμὸν καὶ δένδρου δόνημα, καὶ ὅλως ὅ τι καὶ θελήσειεν. ὁ δὲ μῦθος παραλαβὼν πρὸς τὸ παραδοξότερον τὴν φύσιν αὐτοῦ διηγήσατο, ὡς γιγνομένου ταῦτα ἅπερ ἐμιμεῖτο. ὅπερ δὴ καὶ τοῖς νῦν ὀρχουμένοις πρόσεστιν, ἴδοις τʼ ἂν οὖν αὐτοὺς πρὸς τὸν καιρὸν ὠκέως διαλλαττομένους καὶ αὐτὸν μιμουμένους τὸν Πρωτέα. εἰκάζειν δὲ χρὴ καὶ τὴν Ἔμπουσαν τὴν ἐς μυρίας μορφὰς μεταβαλλομένην τοιαύτην τινὰ ἄνθρωπον ὑπὸ τοῦ μύθου παραδεδόσθαι.

Λυκῖνος ἐπὶ τούτοις δίκαιον μηδὲ τῆς Ῥωμαίων ὀρχήσεως ἀμνημονεῖν, ἣν οἱ εὐγενέστατοι αὐτῶν τῷ πολεμικωτάτῳ τῶν θεῶν Ἄρει, οἱ Σάλιοι καλούμενοι (ἱερωσύνης δὲ τοῦτο ὄνομα), ὀρχοῦνται, σεμνοτάτην τε ἅμα καὶ ἱερωτάτην.

Λυκῖνος Βιθυνὸς δὲ μῦθος, καὶ οὗτος οὐ πάνυ τῶν Ἰταλιωτικῶν ἀλλότριος, φησὶν τὸν Πρίαπον δαίμονα πολεμιστήν, τῶν Τιτάνων οἶμαι ἕνα ἢ τῶν Ἰδαίων Δακτύλων τοῦτο ἔργον πεποιημένον, τὰ ἐνόπλια παιδεύειν, παραλαβόντα παρὰ τῆς Ἥρας τὸν Ἄρη, παῖδα μὲν ἔτι, σκληρὸν δὲ καὶ πέρα τοῦ μετρίου ἀνδρικόν, μὴ πρότερον ὁπλομαχεῖν διδάξαι πρὶν τέλειον ὀρχηστὴν ἀπειργάσατο. καὶ ἐπὶ τούτῳ καὶ μισθὸς αὐτῷ παρὰ τῆς Ἥρας ἐγένετο, δεκάτην ἀεὶ τῶν ἐκ πολέμου περιγιγνομένων τῷ Ἄρει παρʼ αὐτοῦ λαμβάνειν.

Λυκῖνος τὰ μὲν γὰρ Διονυσιακὰ καὶ Βακχικὰ οἶμαί σε μὴ περιμένειν ἐμοῦ ἀκοῦσαι, ὅτι ὄρχησις ἐκεῖνα πάντα ἦν. τριῶν γοῦν οὐσῶν τῶν γενικωτάτων ὀρχήσεων, κόρδακος καὶ σικιννίδος καὶ ἐμμελείας, οἱ Διονύσου θεράποντες οἱ Σάτυροι ταύτας ἐφευρόντες ἀφʼ αὑτῶν ἑκάστην ὠνόμασαν, καὶ ταύτῃ τῇ τέχνῃ χρώμενος ὁ Διόνυσος, φασίν, Τυρρηνοὺς καὶ Ἰνδοὺς καὶ Λυδοὺς ἐχειρώσατο καὶ φῦλον οὕτω μάχιμον τοῖς αὑτοῦ θιάσοις κατωρχήσατο.

But I need not confine myself to the Greeks. The Indians, when they rise to offer their morning salutation to the Sun, do not consider it enough to kiss their hands after the Greek fashion; turning to the East, they silently greet the God with movements that are designed to represent his own course through the heavens; and with this substitute for our prayers and sacrifices and choral celebrations they seek his favour at the beginning of every day and at its close. The Ethiopians go further, and dance even while they fight; the shaft an Ethiopian draws from that arrow-crown that serves him in place of a quiver will never be discharged before he has intimidated his enemy with the threatening gestures of the war-dance.

Having dealt with India and Ethiopia, let us now consider the neighbouring country of Egypt. If I am not mistaken, the Egyptian Proteus of ancient legend is no other than a dancer, whose mimetic skill enables him to adapt himself to every character: in the activity of his movements, he is liquid as water, rapid as fire; he is the raging lion, the savage panther, the trembling bough; he is what he will. The legend takes these data, and gives them a supernatural turn,—for mimicry substituting metamorphosis. Our modern pantomimes have the same gift, and Proteus himself sometimes appears as the subject of their rapid transformations. And it may be conjectured that in that versatile lady Empusa we have but another artist of the same kind, mythologically treated.

Our attention is next claimed by the Roman dance of the Salii, a priesthood drawn from the noblest families; the dance is performed in honour of Mars, the most warlike of the Gods, and is of a particularly solemn and sacred character. According to a Bithynian legend, which agrees well with this Italian institution, Priapus, a war-like divinity (probably one of the Titans, or of the Idaean Dactyls, whose profession it was to teach the use of arms), was entrusted by Hera with the care of her son Ares, who even in childhood was remarkable for his courage and ferocity. Priapus would not put weapons into his hands till he had turned him out a perfect dancer; and he was rewarded by Hera with a tenth part of all Ares’s spoils. As to the rites of Dionysus, you know, without my telling you, that they consisted in dancing from beginning to end. Of the three main types of dance, the cordax, the sicinnis, and the emmelia, each was the invention and bore the name of one of the Satyrs, his followers. Assisted by this art, and accompanied by these revellers, he conquered Tyrrhenians, Indians, Lydians, dancing those warlike tribes into submission.

Λυκῖνος ὥστε, ὦ θαυμάσιε, ὅρα μὴ ἀνόσιον ᾖ κατηγορεῖν ἐπιτηδεύματος θείου τε ἅμα καὶ μυστικοῦ καὶ τοσούτοις θεοῖς ἐσπουδασμένου καὶ ἐπὶ τιμῇ αὐτῶν δρωμένου καὶ τοσαύτην τέρψιν ἅμα καὶ παιδείαν ὠφέλιμον παρεχομένου.

θαυμάζω δέ σου κἀκεῖνο, εἰδὼς Ὁμήρου καὶ Ἡσιόδου μάλιστα ἐραστὴν ὄντα σε (αὖθις γὰρ ἐπὶ τοὺς ποιητὰς ἐπάνειμι), πῶς ἀντιφθέγγεσθαι ἐκείνοις τολμᾷς πρὸ τῶν πάντων ὄρχησιν ἐπαινοῦσιν. ὁ μὲν γὰρ Ὅμηρος τὰ ἥδιστα καὶ κάλλιστα καταλέγων, ὕπνον καὶ φιλότητα καὶ μολπὴν καὶ ὄρχησιν, μόνην ταύτην ἀμύμονα ὠνόμασεν, προσμαρτυρήσας νὴ Δία καὶ τὸ ἡδὺ τῇ μολπῇ, ἅπερ ἀμφότερα τῇ ὀρχηστικῇ πρόσεστιν, καὶ ᾠδὴ γλυκερὰ καὶ ὀρχησμὸς ἀμύμων, ὃν σὺ νῦν μωμᾶσθαι ἐπινοεῖς. καὶ πάλιν ἐν ἑτέρῳ μέρει τῆς ποιήσεως· ἄλλῳ μὲν γὰρ ἔδωκε θεὸς πολεμήϊα ἔργα, / ἄλλῳ δʼ ὀρχηστύν τε καὶ ἱμερόεσσαν ἀοιδήν. / ἱμερόεσσα γὰρ ὡς ἀληθῶς ἡ μετʼ ὀρχήσεως ᾠδὴ καὶ δῶρον θεῶν τοῦτο κάλλιστον. καὶ ἔοικεν εἰς δύο διῃρηκὼς ὁ Ὅμηρος τὰ πάντα πράγματα, πόλεμον καὶ εἰρήνην, τοῖς τοῦ πολέμου μόνα ταῦτα ὡς κάλλιστα ἀντιτεθεικέναι.

Λυκῖνος ὁ δὲ Ἡσίοδος, οὐ παρʼ ἄλλου ἀκούσας ἀλλʼ ἰδὼν αὐτὸς ἕωθεν εὐθὺς ὀρχουμένας τὰς Μούσας, ἐν ἀρχῇ τῶν ἐπῶν τοῦτο περὶ αὐτῶν τὸ μέγιστον ἐγκώμιον διηγεῖται, ὅτι περὶ κρήνην ἰοειδέα πόσς’ ἁπαλοῖσιν ὀρχεῦνται, τοῦ πατρὸς τὸν βωμὸν περιχορεύουσαι.

ἀλλὰ σὺ μέν, ὦ γενναῖε, μονονουχὶ θεομαχῶν ὑβρίζεις εἰς τὴν ὀρχηστικήν·

Λυκῖνος ὁ Σωκράτης δέ, σοφώτατος ἀνήρ, εἴ γε πιστευτέον τοῦτο περὶ αὐτοῦ λέγοντι τῷ Πυθίῳ, οὐ μόνον ἐπῄνει τὴν ὀρχηστικὴν ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐκμαθεῖν αὐτὴν ἠξίου, μέγιστον νέμων εὐρυθμίᾳ καὶ εὐμουσίᾳ καὶ κινήσει ἐμμελεῖ καὶ εὐσχημοσύνῃ τοῦ κινουμένου· καὶ οὐκ ᾐδεῖτο γέρων ἀνὴρ ἓν τῶν σπουδαιοτάτων μαθημάτων καὶ τοῦτο ἡγούμενος εἶναι. καὶ ἔμελλέν γε ἐκεῖνος περὶ ὀρχηστικὴν οὐ μετρίως σπουδάσεσθαι, ὅς γε καὶ τὰ μικρὰ οὐκ ὤκνει μανθάνειν, ἀλλὰ καὶ εἰς τὰ διδασκαλεῖα τῶν αὐλητρίδων ἐφοίτα καὶ παρʼ ἑταίρας γυναικὸς οὐκ ἀπηξίου σπουδαῖόν τι ἀκούειν, τῆς Ἀσπασίας. καίτοι ἐκεῖνος ἄρτι ἀρχομένην ἑώρα τότε τὴν τέχνην καὶ οὐδέπω εἰς τοσοῦτον κάλλος διηρθρωμένην. εἰ δὲ τοὺς νῦν ἐπὶ μέγιστον αὐτὴν προαγαγόντας ἐθεᾶτο, εὖ οἶδα, πάντων ἂν ἐκεῖνός γε ἀφέμενος μόνῳ τῷ θεάματι τούτῳ τὸν νοῦν ἂν προσεῖχεν καὶ τοὺς παῖδας οὐκ ἂν ἄλλο τι πρὸ αὐτοῦ ἐδιδάξατο.

Then beware, my enlightened friend, of the guilt of sacrilege. Will you attack the holy mystic art in which so many Gods delight; by which their worshippers do them honour; which affords so much pleasure, so much useful instruction? To return once more to the poets: when I think of your affection for Homer and Hesiod, I am amazed to find you disputing the preeminence they assign to the dance. Homer, in enumerating all that is sweetest and best, mentions sleep, love, song, and dance; but of these dance alone is ‘faultless.’ He testifies, moreover, to the ‘sweetness’ of song: now our art includes ‘sweet song’ as well as the ‘faultless dance’ which you take upon you to censure. Again, in another passage we read:

To one the God hath given warlike deeds: But to another dance and lovely song.

And lovely indeed is the song that accompanies the dance; it is the Gods’ best gift. Homer seems to divide all things under the two heads of war and peace; and among the things of peace he singles out these two as the best counterpart to the things of war. Hesiod, not speaking from hearsay, but coming fresh from the sight of the Muses’ morning dance, has this high tribute to them in the beginning of his poem:

Their dainty feet round the dark waters dance,

about the altar of Zeus.—My dear sir, your onslaught upon the dance is little short of blasphemy.

Socrates—that wisest of men, if we may accept the judgement of the Pythian oracle—not only approved of dancing, but made a careful study of it; and, in his zeal for grace and elegance, for harmonious movement and carriage of the body, thought it no shame, reverend sage that he was, to rank this among the most important branches of learning. And well might he have an enthusiasm for dancing, who scrupled not to study the humblest arts; who frequented the schools of the flute-girls, and could stoop to learn wisdom from the mouth of an Aspasia. Yet in his days the art was in its infancy, its beauties undeveloped. Had Socrates seen the artists who have made modern Pantomime what it is, he would assuredly have given it his exclusive attention, and assigned it the first place in the education of youth.

Λυκῖνος δοκεῖς δέ μοι, ὅταν κωμῳδίαν καὶ τραγῳδίαν ἐπαινῇς, ἐπιλελῆσθαι ὅτι καὶ ἐν ἑκατέρᾳ ἐκείνων ὀρχήσεως ἴδιόν τι εἶδός ἐστιν, οἷον τραγικὴ μὲν ἡ ἐμμέλεια, κωμῳδικὴ δὲ ὁ κόρδαξ, ἐνίοτε δὲ καὶ τρίτης, σικιννίδος, προσλαμβανομένης. ἐπεὶ δὲ ἐν ἀρχῇ καὶ προετίμησας τῆς ὀρχήσεως τὴν τραγῳδίαν καὶ κωμῳδίαν καὶ αὐλητὰς κυκλίους καὶ κιθαρῳδίαν, ἐναγώνια ταῦτα καὶ διὰ τοῦτο σεμνὰ προσειπών, φέρε νῦν ἀντεξετάσωμεν τῇ ὀρχήσει ἕκαστον αὐτῶν. καίτοι τὸν μὲν αὐλόν, εἰ δοκεῖ, καὶ τὴν κιθάραν παρῶμεν· μέρη γὰρ τῆς τοῦ ὀρχηστοῦ ὑπηρεσίας καὶ ταῦτα.

Λυκῖνος τὴν τραγῳδίαν δέ γε ἀπὸ τοῦ σχήματος πρώτου καταμάθωμεν οἵα ἐστίν, ὡς εἰδεχθὲς ἅμα καὶ φοβερὸν θέαμα εἰς μῆκος ἄρρυθμον ἠσκημένος ἄνθρωπος, ἐμβάταις ὑψηλοῖς ἐποχούμενος, πρόσωπον ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς ἀνατεινόμενον ἐπικείμενος καὶ στόμα κεχηνὸς πάμμεγα ὡς καταπιόμενος τοὺς θεατάς. ἐῶ λέγειν προστερνίδια καὶ προγαστρίδια, προσθετὴν καὶ ἐπιτεχνητὴν παχύτητα προσποιούμενος, ὡς μὴ τοῦ μήκους ἡ ἀρρυθμία ἐν λεπτῷ μᾶλλον ἐλέγχοιτο· εἶτʼ ἔνδοθεν αὐτὸς κεκραγώς, ἑαυτὸν ἀνακλῶν καὶ κατακλῶν, ἐνίοτε καὶ περιᾴδων τὰ ἰαμβεῖα καί, τὸ δὴ αἴσχιστον, μελῳδῶν τὰς συμφοράς, καὶ μόνης τῆς φωνῆς ὑπεύθυνον παρέχων ἑαυτόν· τὰ γὰρ ἄλλα τοῖς ποιηταῖς ἐμέλησεν πρὸ πολλοῦ ποτε γενομένοις. καὶ μέχρι μὲν Ἀνδρομάχη τις ἢ Ἑκάβη ἐστίν, φορητὸς ἡ ᾠδή· ὅταν δὲ Ἡρακλῆς αὐτὸς εἰσελθὼν μονῳδῇ, ἐπιλαθόμενος αὑτοῦ καὶ μήτε τὴν λεοντῆν αἰδεσθεὶς μήτε τὸ ῥόπαλον ὃ περίκειται, σολοικίαν εὖ φρονῶν εἰκότως φαίη ἄν τις τὸ πρᾶγμα.

Λυκῖνος καὶ γὰρ αὖ ὅπερ ἐνεκάλεις τῇ ὀρχηστικῇ, τὸ ἄνδρας ὄντας μιμεῖσθαι γυναῖκας, κοινὸν τοῦτο καὶ τῆς τραγῳδίας καὶ τῆς κωμῳδίας ἔγκλημα ἂν εἴη· πλείους γοῦν ἐν αὐταῖς τῶν ἀνδρῶν αἱ γυναῖκες.

I think you forget, when you advocate the claims of tragedy and comedy, that each of them has its own peculiar form of dance; tragedy its emmelia, comedy its cordax, supplemented occasionally by the sicinnis. You began by asserting the superiority of tragedy, of comedy, and of the periodic performances on flute and lyre, which you pronounce to be respectable, because they are included in public competitions. Let us take each of these and compare its merits with those of dancing. The flute and the lyre, to be sure, we might leave out of the discussion, as these have their part to play in the dance.

In forming our estimate of tragedy, let us first consider its externals— the hideous, appalling spectacle that the actor presents. His high boots raise him up out of all proportion; his head is hidden under an enormous mask; his huge mouth gapes upon the audience as if he would swallow them; to say nothing of the chest-pads and stomach-pads with which he contrives to give himself an artificial corpulence, lest his deficiency in this respect should emphasize his disproportionate height. And in the middle of it all is the actor, shouting away, now high, now low,—chanting his iambics as often as not; could anything be more revolting than this sing- song recitation of tragic woes? The actor is a mouthpiece: that is his sole responsibility;—the poet has seen to the rest, ages since. From an Andromache or a Hecuba, one can endure recitative: but when Heracles himself comes upon the stage, and so far forgets himself, and the respect due to the lion-skin and club that he carries, as to deliver a solo, no reasonable person can deny that such a performance is in execrable taste. Then again, your objection to dancing—that men act women’s parts—is equally applicable to tragedy and comedy, in which indeed there are more women than men.

Λυκῖνος ἡ κωμῳδία δὲ καὶ τῶν προσώπων αὐτῶν τὸ καταγέλαστον μέρος τοῦ τερπνοῦ αὑτῇ νενόμικεν, οἷα Δάων καὶ Τιβείων καὶ μαγείρων πρόσωπα.

τὸ δὲ τοῦ ὀρχηστοῦ σχῆμα ὡς μὲν κόσμιον καὶ εὐπρεπὲς οὐκ ἐμὲ χρὴ λέγειν, δῆλα γὰρ τοῖς μὴ τυφλοῖς ταῦτα· τὸ δὲ πρόσωπον αὐτὸ ὡς κάλλιστον καὶ τῷ ὑποκειμένῳ δράματι ἐοικός, οὐ κεχηνὸς δὲ ὡς ἐκεῖνα ἀλλὰ συμμεμυκός· ἔχει γὰρ πολλοὺς τοὺς ὑπὲρ αὐτοῦ βοῶντας.

Λυκῖνος πάλαι μὲν γὰρ αὐτοὶ καὶ ᾖδον καὶ ὠρχοῦντο· εἶτʼ ἐπειδὴ κινουμένων τὸ ἆσθμα τὴν ᾠδὴν ἐπετάραττεν, ἄμεινον ἔδοξεν ἄλλους αὐτοῖς ὑπᾴδειν.

Λυκῖνος αἱ δὲ ὑποθέσεις κοιναὶ ἀμφοτέροις, καὶ οὐδέν τι διακεκριμέναι τῶν τραγικῶν αἱ ὀρχηστικαί, πλὴν ὅτι ποικιλώτεραι αὗται καὶ πολυμαθέστεραι καὶ μυρίας μεταβολὰς ἔχουσαι.

Λυκῖνος εἰ δὲ μὴ ἐναγώνιος ἡ ὄρχησις, ἐκείνην εἶναί φημι αἰτίαν, τὸ δόξαι τοῖς ἀγωνοθέταις μεῖζον καὶ σεμνότερον τὸ πρᾶγμα ἢ ὥστε εἰς ἐξέτασιν καλεῖσθαι. ἐῶ λέγειν ὅτι πόλις ἐν Ἰταλίᾳ, τοῦ Χαλκιδικοῦ γένους ἡ ἀρίστη, καὶ τοῦτο ὥσπερ τι κόσμημα τῷ παρʼ αὐτοῖς ἀγῶνι προστέθεικεν.

By comedy, the absurdity of the masks—of a Davus, for instance, or a Tibius, or a cook—is actually claimed as one of its attractions. On the other hand, I need not tell you how decent, how seemly, is the dancer’s attire; any one who is not blind can see that for himself. His very mask is elegant, and well adapted to his part; there is no gaping here; the lips are closed, for the dancer has plenty of other voices at his service. In old days, dancer and singer were one: but the violent exercise caused shortness of breath; the song suffered for it, and it was found advisable to have the singing done independently.

As to the subjects treated, they are the same for both, Pantomime differing from tragedy only in the infinite variety of its plots, and in the superior ingenuity and learning displayed in them. Dancing may not be included in our public competitions; but the reason is that the stewards regard it as a matter too high and solemn to be subjected to criticism. I forbear to add that in one Italian city—the greatest of the Chalcidian name—a special lustre has been added to the public games by the introduction of a dancing competition.

Λυκῖνος ἐθέλω δέ σοι ἐνταῦθα ἤδη ἀπολογήσασθαι ὑπὲρ τῶν παραλελειμμένων τῷ λόγῳ παμπόλλων ὄντων, ὡς μὴ δόξαν ἀγνοίας ἢ ἀμαθίας παράσχωμαι. οὐ γάρ με λέληθεν ὅτι πολλοὶ πρὸ ἡμῶν περὶ ὀρχήσεως συγγεγραφότες τὴν πλείστην διατριβὴν τῆς γραφῆς ἐποιήσαντο πάντα τῆς ὀρχήσεως τὰ εἴδη ἐπεξιόντες καὶ ὀνόματα αὐτῶν καταλέγοντες καὶ οἵα ἑκάστη καὶ ὑφʼ ὅτου εὑρέθη, πολυμαθίας ταύτην ἐπίδειξιν ἡγούμενοι παρέξειν. ἐγὼ δὲ μάλιστα μὲν τὴν περὶ ταῦτα φιλοτιμίαν ἀπειρόκαλόν τε καὶ ὀψιμαθῆ καὶ ἐμαυτῷ ἄκαιρον οἴομαι εἶναι καὶ διὰ τοῦτο παρίημι·

Λυκῖνος ἔπειτα δὲ κἀκεῖνό σε ἀξιῶ ἐννοεῖν καὶ μεμνῆσθαι, ὅτι μοι νῦν οὐ πᾶσαν ὄρχησιν πρόκειται γενεαλογεῖν, οὐδὲ τοῦτον τὸν σκοπὸν ὑπεστησάμην τῷ λόγῳ, ὀρχήσεων ὀνόματα καταριθμήσασθαι, πλὴν ὅσων ἐν ἀρχῇ ὀλίγων ἐπεμνήσθην τὰς γενικωτέρας αὐτῶν προχειρισάμενος· ἀλλὰ τό γε ἐν τῷ παρόντι μοι κεφάλαιον τοῦ λόγου τοῦτό ἐστιν, τὴν νῦν ὄρχησιν καθεστῶσαν ἐπαινέσαι καὶ δεῖξαι ὅσα ἐν αὑτῇ τερπνὰ καὶ χρήσιμα περιλαβοῦσα ἔχει, οὐ πάλαι ἀρξαμένη ἐς τοσοῦτο κάλλος ἐπιδιδόναι, ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὸν Σεβαστὸν μάλιστα.

αἱ μὲν γὰρ πρῶται ἐκεῖναι ὥσπερ τινὲς ῥίζαι καὶ θεμέλιοι τῆς ὀρχήσεως ἦσαν, τὸ δὲ ἄνθος αὐτῆς καὶ τὸν τελεώτατον καρπόν, ὅσπερ νῦν μάλιστα ἐς τὸ ἀκρότατον ἀποτετέλεσται, τοῦτον οὖν ὁ ἡμέτερος λόγος διεξέρχεται, παρεὶς τὸ θερμαυστρίζειν καὶ γέρανον ὀρχεῖσθαι καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ὡς μηδὲν τῇ νῦν ταύτῃ ἔτι προσήκοντα. οὐδὲ γὰρ ἐκεῖνο τὸ Φρύγιον τῆς ὀρχήσεως εἶδος, τὸ παροίνιον καὶ συμποτικόν, μετὰ μέθης γιγνόμενον ἀγροίκων πολλάκις πρὸς αὔλημα γυναικεῖον ὀρχουμένων σφοδρὰ καὶ καματηρὰ πηδήματα, καὶ νῦν ἔτι ταῖς ἀγροικίαις ἐπιπολάζοντα, ὑπʼ ἀγνοίας παρέλιπον, ἀλλʼ ὅτι μηδὲν ταῦτα τῇ νῦν ὀρχήσει κοινωνεῖ. καὶ γὰρ ὁ Πλάτων ἐν τοῖς Νόμοις τὰ μέν τινα εἴδη ἐπαινεῖ ταύτης, τὰ δὲ πάνυ ἀπαξιοῖ, διαιρῶν αὐτὰ ἔς τε τὸ τερπνὸν καὶ τὸ χρήσιμον καὶ ἀπελαύνων αὐτῶν τὰ ἀσχημονέστερα, προτιμῶν δὲ καὶ θαυμάζων θάτερα.

And now, before I proceed further, I wish to offer an explanation of the many omissions I have made, which might otherwise be attributed to ignorance. I am well aware that the subject has already been dealt with by a number of writers, who have chiefly occupied themselves with a description of the various forms of dance, and a catalogue of their names, their characters, and their inventors; and this they regard as a proof of erudition. Such work I leave to the ambition of dullards and pedants, as foreign to my own purpose. I would have you observe, and bear in mind, that I do not propose to make a complete history of the art of dancing; nor is it my object to enumerate the names of dances, except so far as I have already done, in handling a few of the principal types: on the contrary, I am chiefly concerned with pointing out the profit and pleasure to be derived from modern Pantomime, which did not begin to take its present admirable form in ancient days, but only in the time of Augustus, or thereabouts. In those earlier times we have but the beginnings of the art; the tree is taking root; the flower and the fruit have reached their perfection only in our own day, and it is with these that I have to do. The tongs-dance, the crane-dance, and others I pass over because they are alien to my subject; similarly, if I have said nothing of the Phrygian dance,—that riotous convivial fling, which was performed by energetic yokels to the piping of a flute-girl, and which still prevails in country districts,—I have omitted it not from ignorance, but because it has no connexion with the Pantomime of to-day. I have the authority of Plato, in his Laws, for approving some forms of dance and rejecting others; he there examines the dance from the two points of view of pleasure and utility, banishes those forms that are unseemly, and selects others for his recommendation.

People and places in this passage

English translation by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler (1905). Original text: A. M. Harmon (ed.), Lucian, vol. V, Loeb Classical Library, London: William Heinemann; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1936 (Greek text as digitised by Perseus).

Greek text and translation from the Perseus Digital Library, Tufts University, CC BY-SA 4.0 (Perseus Digital Library, Greek text); translation public domain. Introductions, summaries and notes © GreekMythology.com.