Mohammed Et Charlemange Revisited

After reading this excellent article the other day over at Men Of The West I came, by way of the comments there, to read about a book about a theory, one which I had accepted blue-pill through my own reading. The book Mohammad & Charlemagne Revisted by Emmet Scott evaluates Henri Pirenne’s theory regarding the fall of the classical age and the rise of  the dark age and medievalism. Ironically, as I will explain further on, I had been reading Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy which I promptly abandoned and took up Scott’s Book.

The Blue-Pill explanation 

Popular academia even back to the Enlightenment trace the fall of the classical age to 476 when Romulus Augustus resigns the crown at the fall of Rome. From here the general consensus states that decay, decline, and decadence would drain on for the next two centuries until Europe enters into the medieval period after the last of the Merovingian Kings. The classical age clings with boney fingers to the final vestiges of the West but the decline is inevitable. We all turn into backwater illiterate farmers and the Church systematically destroys what is left of Greek and Roman literature and accepts in its place superstition and ignorant faith. After the 10th and 11th centuries Scholastics manage to recover some of the lost knowledge from Muslims who are the true and great preservers of Western Society. The good and tolerant Muslims basically save the entire world and become the catalyst to the Renaissance, Enlightenment and eventually the modern world. Allahu Akbar; amiright?

It would be a great story if it weren’t completely and demonstrably false.

Pirenne and the Red-Pill of Truth

Pirenne’s theory more or less is that, though the classical world experienced decline beginning in the second and third which reached its nadir in 476, the decline of classic society reversed and that by the end of the fifth and on through till the 7th century the classical civilizations experienced a new golden age. At this time Islam rose and allies with Persia to attack Byzantium and takes control of the most civilized remains of the old empire in the middle east and Spain. Taken with the constant piracy and jihad etc. that is part and parcel for Islam trade in the Mediterranean stops, the sale of papyrus from Egypt is disrupted causing much of literature to be lost and literacy rates to plummet.

In addition the many sciences and discoveries often attributed to Islam, coming not from Islam but as a periphery, turn out to be largely Persian, Chinese, or Indian: Algebra, Gunpowder, Distillation of Alcohol, the Zero. These come to the West with Arabic names but even their “own” scholars turn out at closer review to be Persian (Averroes, Avicenna), Christians, and Jews under Muslim rule.

Additionally the idea that Arabs saved western literature and jump started the Renaissance is further debunked as Scott demonstrates the extensive knowledge of Western scholars in the 7th century and clearly shows the destruction of the papyrus trade and in turn the book trade by Muslim piracy. The famed library at Alexandria, likely destroyed by fire, had by the 7th century been restored to at least its former glory if not beyond its previous capacity under the Ptolemys. Destroyed by Muslims. What they did save were the practical sciences. Granted it could have taken longer to get an iPhone without Islam I would trade them all for the other 95% of Western writing that is lost.

What we do have was in large part saved my monastics. Who studied Latin, Greek and Hebrew as early as the 7th century and again in the 9th, 10th etc. Without Islam. The prohibitive cost of parchment over papyrus, and the high rate at which papyrus deteriorates and needs reproduction ensured that the Church could only save so much. Some 80% of what is known of ancient writing.

Deus Vult

I cannot in so short a span do justice to Scott excellent work. It is a scholarly history, yet it lacks the sort of scholarly jargon many come to expect from our university journals that convolute meaning by a need to signal superiority through extensive and useless vocabulary and technical terms. In Scott there is an ease of language, a clarity of thought, and concision of writing that leaves the reader able to follow his trail and research to the intended conclusion.  From the start Mohammed And Charlemange Revisited  was a pleasure to read.

One passage sticks out more than any other in its importance to our time. In considering what portions of the empire fell and the evident ease at which they fell, Scott finds that it was those parts of the ancient empire which were most civilized that succumbed most easily to Islam. He believes that leaders of Babylon allowed Arabian collusion and eventually war from within from old Persia’s own cucks. In Spain only in the North where the empire had held least sway and the men were most savage could conquest be staved. In Gaul those furthest from the old decadence and new rise of civility pushed back, while Syria and Egypt where luxuries where common Mohammedans scourged the land and salted the earth.

Could our age be more similar. If we are not vigilant and push back against the current invaders the West today could fall as easily as it did in part in the 7th century. In America, at least, there are portions of rural areas that are rougher and more barbarous; there is hope there. I would not give them an inch.

Build the wall, send them home. Hail Emperor Trump.

Veritas Numquam Perit,
The Poet




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Ascension and Satisfaction

WE anxiously awaiting the ascension and enthroning of the might victor god-Emperor Trump. Do not fret god-Emperor Trump is yet to ascend the cherry-blossomed throne. There is still time for the infidels to convert to the might of Kek. Hail Kek!

In time the light will shine on all things that are done in shadow and the wicked and the doers of evil will feel the heat of his mighty firebrand. Those who fought against the Trumpening shall tremble; he is a mighty lord, but good.

Yet I fear the satisfaction that we all must feel and that we should bask in the throes of victory and bathe in the tears of out smited enemies. The war is an infant and as such we much not leave it settled; the enemy would have us leave our battle gear behind to enjoy our spoils and enjoy the ride. They will never admit to war, they will scramble and call for peace and at the first drawing of renewed resistance to globalist tyranny the shrieking and crying will come. It is the Alt-Right who they will be called scapegoat. Let them put their sins on us. We do not care. Let them shriek. We shall not flinch.

But let us not rest upon our laurels and find our victory to be Pyrrhic in lethargy. They have brought war upon us and call it peace, they have brought savages among us and call it peace. To arms men the war has but begun.

All Hail Trump! All Hail Kek!

For your inspiration and edification: Demosthenes, Third Phillippic

TL:DR :They call war, peace to dissuade you. To do miss their actions for their words. The war is upon us, the last chance to act is now.

Veritas Numquam Perit
The Poet

All Hail The Conquering Heroes

All Hail The Conquering Heroes

Many speeches are made, men of Athens, at almost every meeting of the Assembly, with reference to the aggressions which Philip has been committing, ever since he concluded the Peace, not only against yourselves but against all other peoples.

And I am sure that all would agree, however little they may act on their belief, that our aim, both in speech and in action, should be to cause him to cease from his insolence and to pay the penalty for it. And yet I see that in fact the treacherous sacrifice of our interests has gone on, until what seems an ill-omened saying may, I fear, be really true – that if all who came forward desired to propose, and you desired to carry, the measures which would make your position as pitiful as it could possibly be, it could not, so I believe, be made worse than it is now.

It may be that there are many reasons for this, and that our affairs did not reach their present condition from any one or two causes. But if you examine the matter aright, you will find that the chief responsibility rests with those whose aim is to win your favor, not to propose what is best. Some of them, men of Athens, so long as they can maintain the conditions which bring them reputation and influence, take no thought for the future and therefore think that you also should take none, while others, by accusing and slandering those who are actively at work, are simply trying to make the city spend its energies in punishing the members of its own body, and so leave Philip free to say and do what he likes.

Such political methods as these, familiar to you as they are, are the real causes of the evil. And I beg you, men of Athens, if I tell you certain truths outspokenly, to let no resentment on your part fall upon me on this account. Consider the matter in this light. In every other sphere of life, you believe that the right of free speech ought to be so universally shared by all who are in the city, that you have extended it both to foreigners and to slaves; and one may see many a servant in Athens speaking his mind with greater liberty than is granted to citizens in some other states: but from the sphere of political counsel you have utterly banished this liberty.

The result is that in your meetings you give yourselves airs and enjoy their flattery, listening to nothing but what is meant to please you, while in the world of facts and events, you are in the last extremity of peril. If then you are still in this mood to-day, I do not know what I can say; but if you are willing to listen while I tell you, without flattery, what your interest requires, I am prepared to speak. For though our position is very bad indeed, and much has been sacrificed, it is still possible, even now, if you will do your duty, to set all right once more.

It is a strange thing, perhaps, that I am about to say, but it is true. The worst feature in the past is that in which lies our best hope for the future. And what is this? It is that you are in your present plight because you do not do any part of your duty, small or great; for of course, if you were doing all that you should do, and were still in this evil case, you could not even hope for any improvement. As it is, Philip has conquered your indolence and your indifference; but he has not conquered Athens. You have not been vanquished, you have never even stirred.

Now if it was admitted by us all that Philip was at war with Athens, and was transgressing the Peace, a speaker would have to do nothing but to advise you as to the safest and easiest method of resistance to him. But since there are some who are in so extraordinary a frame of mind that, though he is capturing cities, though many of your possessions are in his hands, and though he is committing aggressions against all men, they still tolerate certain speakers, who constantly assert at your meetings that it is some of _us_ who are provoking the war, it is necessary to be on our guard and come to a right understanding on the matter.

For there is a danger lest any one who proposes or advises resistance should find himself accused of having brought about the war. Well, I say this first of all, and lay it down as a principle, that if it is open to us to deliberate whether we should remain at peace or should go to war …

Now if it is possible for the city to remain at peace, if the decision rests with us that I may make this my starting-point, then I say that we ought to do so, and I call upon any one who says that it is so to move his motion, and to act and not to defraud us. But if another with weapons in his hands and a large force about him holds out to you the name of peace while his own acts are acts of war what course remains open to us but that of resistance?

Though if you wish to profess peace in the same manner as he, I have no quarrel with you. But if any man’s conception of peace is that it is a state in which Philip can master all that intervenes till at last he comes to attack ourselves, such a conception, in the first place, is madness; and, in the second place, this peace that he speaks of is a peace which you are to observe towards Philip, while he does not observe it towards you: and this it is, this power to carry on war against you, without being met by any hostilities on your part, that Philip is purchasing with all the money that he is spending.

Indeed, if we intend to wait till the time comes when he admits that he is at war with us, we are surely the most innocent persons in the world. Why, even if he comes to Attica itself, to the very Peiraeus, he will never make such an admission, if we are to judge by his dealings with others.

For, to take one instance, he told the Olynthians, when he was five miles from the city, that there were only two alternatives, either they must cease to live in Olynthus, or he to live in Macedonia: but during the whole time before that, whenever any one accused him of any such sentiments, he was indignant and sent envoys to answer the charge. Again, he marched into the Phocians’ country, as though visiting his allies. It was by Phocian envoys that he was escorted on the march; and most people in Athens contended strongly that his crossing the Pass would bring no good to Thebes.

Worse still, he has lately seized Pherae and still holds it, though he went to Thessaly as a friend and an ally. And, latest of all, he told those unhappy citizens of Oreus that he had sent his soldiers to visit them and to make kind inquiries; he had heard that they were sick, and suffering from faction, and it was right for an ally and a true friend to be present at such a time.

Now if, instead of giving them warning and using open force, he deliberately chose to deceive these men, who could have done him no harm, though they might have taken precautions against suffering any themselves, do you imagine that he will make a formal declaration of war upon you before he commences hostilities, and that, so long as you are content to be deceived? Impossible! For so long as you, though you are the injured party, make no complaint against him, but accuse some of your own body, he would be the most fatuous man on earth if he were to interrupt your strife and contentions with one another, to bid you turn upon himself, and so to cut away the ground from the arguments by which his hirelings put you off, when they tell you that he is not at war with Athens.

In God’s name, is there a man in his senses who would judge by words, and not by facts, whether another was at peace or at war with him? Of course there is not. Why, from the very first, when the Peace had only just been made, before those who are now in the Chersonese had been sent out, Philip was taking Serrhium and Doriscus, and expelling the soldiers who were in the castle of Serrhium and the Sacred Mountain, where they had been placed by your general. But what was he doing, in acting thus? For he had sworn to a Peace. And let no one ask, What do these things amount to? What do they matter to Athens?

For whether these acts were trifles which could have no interest for you is another matter; but the principles of religion and justice, whether a man transgress them in small things or great, have always the same force. What? When he is sending mercenaries into the Chersonese, which the king and all the Hellenes have acknowledged to be yours; when he openly avows that he is going to the rescue, and states it in his letter, what is it that he is doing?

He tells you, indeed, that he is not making war upon you. But so far am I from admitting that one who acts in this manner is observing the Peace which he made with you, that I hold that in grasping at Megara, in setting up tyrants in Euboea, in advancing against Thrace at the present moment, in pursuing his machinations in the Peloponnese, and in carrying out his entire policy with the help of his army, he is violating the Peace and is making war against you. Unless you mean to say that even to bring up engines to besiege you is no breach of the Peace, until they are actually planted against your walls. But you will not say this; for the man who is taking the steps and contriving the means which will lead to my capture is at war with me, even though he has not yet thrown a missile or shot an arrow.

Now what are the things which would imperil your safety, if anything should happen? The alienation of the Hellespont, the placing of Megara and Euboea in the power of the enemy, and the attraction of Peloponnesian sympathy to his cause. Can I then say that one who is erecting such engines of war as these against the city is at peace with you?

Far from it! For from the very day when he annihilated the Phocians, from that very day, I say, I date the beginning of his hostilities against you. And for your part, I think that you will be wise if you resist him at once; but that if you let him be, you will find that, when you wish to resist, resistance itself is impossible. Indeed, so widely do I differ, men of Athens, from all your other advisers, that I do not think there is any room for discussion to-day in regard to the Chersonese or Byzantium.

We must go to their defense and take every care that they do not suffer and we must send all that they need to the soldiers who are at present there. But we have to take counsel for the good of all the Hellenes, in view of the grave peril in which they stand. And I wish to tell you on what grounds I am so alarmed at the situation, in order that if my reasoning is correct, you may share my conclusions, and exercise some forethought for yourselves at least, if you are actually unwilling to do so for the Hellenes as a whole; but that if you think that I am talking nonsense, and am out of my senses, you may both now and hereafter decline to attend to me as though I were a sane man.

The rise of Philip to greatness from such small and humble beginnings; the mistrustful and quarrelsome attitude of the Hellenes towards one another; the fact that his growth out of what he was into what he is was a far more extraordinary thing than would be his subjugation of all that remains, when he has already secured so much. All this and all similar themes, upon which I might speak at length, I will pass over.

But I see that all men, beginning with yourselves, have conceded to him the very thing which has been at issue in every Hellenic war during the whole of the past. And what is this? It is the right to act as he pleases, to mutilate and to strip the Hellenic peoples, one by one, to attack and to enslave their cities.

For seventy-three years you were the leading people of Hellas, and the Spartans for thirty years save one; and in these last times, after the battle of Leuctra, the Thebans too acquired some power: yet neither to you nor to Thebes nor to Sparta was such a right ever conceded by the Hellenes, as the right to do whatever you pleased. Far from it!

First of all it was your own behavior, or rather that of the Athenians of that day, which some thought immoderate; and all, even those who had no grievance against Athens, felt bound to join the injured parties, and to make war upon you. Then, in their turn, the Spartans, when they had acquired an empire and succeeded to a supremacy like your own, attempted to go beyond all bounds and to disturb the established order to an unjustifiable extent; and once more, all, even those who had no grievance against them, had recourse to war.

Why mention the others? For we ourselves and the Spartans, though we could originally allege no injury done by the one people to the other, nevertheless felt bound to go to war on account of the wrongs which we saw the rest suffering. And yet all the offences of the Spartans in those thirty years of power, and of your ancestors in their seventy years, were less, men of Athens, than the wrongs inflicted upon the Greeks by Philip, in the thirteen years, not yet completed, during which he has been to the fore. Less do I say?

They are not a fraction of them. A few words will easily prove this. I say nothing of Olynthus, and Methone, and Apollonia, and thirty-two cities in the Thracian region, all annihilated by him with such savagery, that a visitor to the spot would find it difficult to tell that they had ever been inhabited. I remain silent in regard to the extirpation of the great Phocian race. But what is the condition of Thessaly? Has he not robbed their very cities of their governments and set up tetrarchies, that they may be enslaved, not merely by whole cities, but by whole tribes at a time?

Are not the cities of Euboea even now ruled by tyrants, and that in an island that is neighbor to Thebes and Athens? Does he not write expressly in his letters, “I am at peace with those who choose to obey me”? And what he thus writes he does not fail to act upon; for he is gone to invade the Hellespont; he previously went to attack Ambracia; the great city of Elis in the Peloponnese is his; he has recently intrigued against Megara; and neither Hellas nor the world beyond it is large enough to contain the man’s ambition.

But though all of us, the Hellenes, see and hear these things, we send no representatives to one another to discuss the matter; we show no indignation; we are in so evil a mood, so deep have the lines been dug which sever city from city, that up to this very day we are unable to act as either our interest or our duty require.

We cannot unite; we can form no combination for mutual support or friendship; but we look on while the man grows greater, because every one has made up his mind, as it seems to me, to profit by the time during which his neighbor is being ruined, and no one cares or acts for the safety of the Hellenes. For we all know that Philip is like the recurrence or the attack of a fever or other illness, in his descent upon those who fancy themselves for the present well out of his reach.

And further, you must surely realize that all the wrongs that the Hellenes suffered from the Spartans or ourselves they at least suffered at the hands of true-born sons of Hellas; and, one might conceive, it was as though a lawful son, born to a great estate, managed his affairs in some wrong or improper way. His conduct would in itself deserve blame and denunciation, but at least it could not be said that he was not one of the family, or was not the heir to the property.

But had it been a slave or a supposititious son that was thus ruining and spoiling an inheritance to which he had no title, why, good Heavens! how infinitely more scandalous and reprehensible all would have declared it to be. And yet they show no such feeling in regard to Philip, although not only is he no Hellene, not only has he no kinship with Hellenes, but he is not even a barbarian from a country that one could acknowledge with credit. He is a pestilent Macedonian, from whose country it used not to be possible to buy even a slave of any value.

And in spite of this, is there any degree of insolence to which he does not proceed? Not content with annihilating cities, does he not manage the Pythian games, the common meeting of the Hellenes, and send his slaves to preside over the competition in his absence? Is he not master of Thermopylae, and of the passes which lead into Hellenic territory? Does he not hold that district with garrisons and mercenaries? Has he not taken the precedence in consulting the oracle, and thrust aside ourselves and the Thessalians and Dorians and the rest of the Amphictyons, though the right is not one which is given even to all of the Hellenes?

Does he not write to the Thessalians to prescribe the constitution under which they are to live? Does he not send one body of mercenaries to Porthmus, to expel the popular party of Eretria, and another to Oreus, to set up Philistides as tyrant? And yet the Hellenes see these things and endure them, gazing, it seems to me, as they would gaze at a hailstorm, each people praying that it may not come their way, but no one trying to prevent it. Nor is it only his outrages upon Hellas that go unresisted.

No one resists even the aggressions which are committed against himself. Ambracia and Leucas belong to the Corinthians. He has attacked them: Naupactus to the Achaeans. He has sworn to hand it over to the Aetolians: Echinus to the Thebans. He has taken it from them, and is now marching against their allies the Byzantines, is it not so? And of our own possessions, to pass by all the rest, is not Cardia, the greatest city in the Chersonese, in his hands? Thus are we treated. And we are all hesitating and torpid, with our eyes upon our neighbors, distrusting one another, rather than the man whose victims we all are.

But if he treats us collectively in this outrageous fashion, what do you think he will do, when he has become master of each of us separately? What then is the cause of these things? For as it was not without reason and just cause that the Hellenes in old days were so prompt for freedom, so it is not without reason or cause that they are now so prompt to be slaves. There was a spirit, men of Athens, a spirit in the minds of the people in those days, which is absent to-day, the spirit which vanquished the wealth of Persia, which led Hellas in the path of freedom, and never gave way in face of battle by sea or by land; a spirit whose extinction to-day has brought universal ruin and turned Hellas upside down. What was this spirit? It was nothing subtle nor clever.

It meant that men who took money from those who aimed at dominion or at the ruin of Hellas were execrated by all; that it was then a very grave thing to be convicted of bribery; that the punishment for the guilty man was the heaviest that could be inflicted; that for him there could be no plea for mercy, nor hope of pardon.

No orator, no general, would then sell the critical opportunity whenever it arose–the opportunity so often offered to men by fortune, even when they are careless and their foes are on their guard. They did not barter away the harmony between people and people, nor their own mistrust of the tyrant and the foreigner, nor any of these high sentiments.

Where are such sentiments now? They have been sold in the market and are gone; and those have been imported in their stead, through which the nation lies ruined and plague-stricken, the envy of the man who has received his hire; the amusement which accompanies his avowal, the pardon granted to those whose guilt is proved, the hatred of one who censures the crime; and all the appurtenances of corruption.

For as to ships, numerical strength, unstinting abundance of funds and all other material of war, and all the things by which the strength of cities is estimated, every people can command these in greater plenty and on a larger scale by far than in old days. But all these resources are rendered unserviceable, ineffectual, unprofitable, by those who traffic in them.

That these things are so to-day, you doubtless see, and need no testimony of mine: and that in times gone by the opposite was true, I will prove to you, not by any words of my own, but by the record inscribed by your ancestors on a pillar of bronze, and placed on the Acropolis, not to be a lesson to themselves, they needed no such record to put them in a right mind, but to be a reminder and an example to you of the zeal that you ought to display in such a cause.

What then is the record? “Arthmius, son of Pythonax, of Zeleia, is an outlaw, and is the enemy of the Athenian people and their allies, he and his house.” Then follows the reason for which this step was taken, “because he brought the gold from the Medes into the Peloponnese.” Such is the record.

Consider, in Heaven’s name, what must have been the mind of the Athenians of that day, when they did this, and their conception of their position. They set up a record, that because a man of Zeleia, Arthmius by name, a slave of the King of Persia, for Zeleia is in Asia, as part of his service to the king, had brought gold, not to Athens, but to the Peloponnese, he should be an enemy of Athens and her allies, he and his house, and that they should be outlaws.

And this outlawry is no such disfranchisement as we ordinarily mean by the word. For what would it matter to a man of Zeleia, that he might have no share in the public life of Athens? But there is a clause in the Law of Murder, dealing with those in connection with whose death the law does not allow a prosecution for murder but the slaying of them is to be a holy act: “And let him die an outlaw,” it runs. The meaning, accordingly, is this that the slayer of such a man is to be pure from all guilt.

They thought, therefore, that the safety of all the Hellenes was a matter which concerned themselves, apart from this belief, it could not have mattered to them whether any one bought or corrupted men in the Peloponnese; and whenever they detected such offenders, they carried their punishment and their vengeance so far as to pillory their names for ever. As the natural consequence, the Hellenes were a terror to the foreigner, not the foreigner to the Hellenes. It is not so now. Such is not your attitude in these or in other matters.

But what is it? You know it yourselves; for why should I accuse you explicitly on every point? And that of the rest of the Hellenes is like your own, and no better; and so I say that the present situation demands our utmost earnestness and good counsel. And what counsel? Do you bid me tell you, and will you not be angry if I do so?

[He reads from the document.]

Now there is an ingenuous argument, which is used by those who would reassure the city, to the effect that, after all, Philip is not yet in the position once held by the Spartans, who ruled everywhere over sea and land, with the king for their ally, and nothing to withstand them; and that, none the less, Athens defended herself even against them, and was not swept away. Since that time the progress in every direction, one may say, has been great, and has made the world to-day very different from what it was then; but I believe that in no respect has there been greater progress or development than in the art of war.

In the first place, I am told that in those days the Spartans and all our other enemies would invade us for four or five months during, that is, the actual summer, and would damage Attica with infantry and citizen-troops, and then return home again. And so old-fashioned were the men of that day, nay rather, such true citizens, that no one ever purchased any object from another for money, but their warfare was of a legitimate and open kind.

But now, as I am sure you see, most of our losses are the result of treachery, and no issue is decided by open conflict or battle; while you are told that it is not because he leads a column of heavy infantry that Philip can march wherever he chooses, but because he has attached to himself a force of light infantry, cavalry, archers, mercenaries, and similar troops.

And whenever, with such advantages, he falls upon a State which is disordered within, and in their distrust of one another no one goes out in defense of its territory, he brings up his engines and besieges them. I pass over the fact that summer and winter are alike to him, that there is no close season during which he suspends operations.

But if you all know these things and take due account of them, you surely must not let the war pass into Attica, nor be dashed from your seat through looking back to the simplicity of those old hostilities with Sparta. You must guard against him, at the greatest possible distance, both by political measures and by preparations; you must prevent his stirring from home, instead of grappling with him at close quarters in a struggle to the death.

For, men of Athens, we have many natural advantages for a war, if we are willing to do our duty. There is the character of his country, much of which we can harry and damage, and a thousand other things. But for a pitched battle he is in better training than we.

Nor have you only to recognize these facts, and to resist him by actual operations of war. You must also by reasoned judgment and of set purpose come to execrate those who address you in his interest, remembering that it is impossible to master the enemies of the city, until you punish those who are serving them in the city itself.

And this, before God and every Heavenly Power, this you will not be able to do. For you have reached such a pitch of folly or distraction or, I know not what to call it, for often has the fear actually entered my mind that some more than mortal power may be driving our fortunes to ruin, that to enjoy their abuse, or their malice, or their jests, or whatever your motive may chance to be, you call upon men to speak who are hirelings, and some of whom would not even deny it; and you laugh to hear their abuse of others.

And terrible as this is, there is yet worse to be told. For you have actually made political life safer for these men, than for those who uphold your own cause. And yet observe what calamities the willingness to listen to such men lays up in store. I will mention facts known to you all.

In Olynthus, among those who were engaged in public affairs, there was one party who were on the side of Philip, and served his interests in everything; and another whose aim was their city’s real good, and the preservation of their fellow citizens from bondage. Which were the destroyers of their country? which betrayed the cavalry, through whose betrayal Olynthus perished? Those whose sympathies were with Philip’s cause; those who, while the city still existed brought such dishonest and slanderous charges against the speakers whose advice was for the best, that, in the case of Apollonides at least, the people of Olynthus was even
induced to banish the accused.

Nor is this instance of the unmixed evil wrought by these practices in the case of the Olynthians an exceptional one, or without parallel elsewhere. For in Eretria, when Plutarchus and the mercenaries had been got rid of, and the people had control of the city and of Porthmus, one party wished to entrust the State to you, the other to entrust it to Philip. And through listening mainly, or rather entirely, to the latter, these poor luckless Eretrians were at last persuaded to banish the advocates of their own interests.

For, as you know, Philip, their ally, sent Hipponicus with a thousand mercenaries, stripped Porthmus of its walls, and set up three tyrants – Hipparchus, Automedon, and Cleitarchus. And since then he has already twice expelled them from the country when they wished to recover their position sending on the first occasion the mercenaries commanded by Eurylochus, on the second, those under Parmenio.

And why go through the mass of the instances? Enough to mention how in Oreus Philip had, as his agents, Philistides, Menippus, Socrates, Thoas, and Agapaeus – the very men who are now in possession of the city – and every one knew the fact; while a certain Euphraeus, who once lived here in Athens, acted in the interests of freedom, to save his country from bondage.

To describe the insults and the contumely with which he met would require a long story; but a year before the capture of the town he laid an information of treason against Philistides and his party, having perceived the nature of their plans. A number of men joined forces, with Philip for their paymaster and director, and haled Euphraeus off to prison as a disturber of the peace.

Seeing this, the democratic party in Oreus, instead of coming to the rescue of Euphraeus, and beating the other party to death, displayed no anger at all against them, and agreed with a malicious pleasure that Euphraeus deserved his fate. After this the conspirators worked with all the freedom they desired for the capture of the city, and made arrangements for the execution of the scheme; while any of the democratic party, who perceived what was going on, maintained a panic-stricken silence, remembering the fate of Euphraeus. So wretched was their condition, that though this dreadful calamity was confronting them, no one dared open his lips, until all was ready and the enemy was advancing up to the walls. Then the one party set about the defense, the other about the betrayal of the city.

And when the city had been captured in this base and shameful manner, the successful party governed despotically: and of those who had been their own protectors, and had been ready to treat Euphraeus with all possible harshness, they expelled some and murdered others; while the good Euphraeus killed himself, thus testifying to the righteousness and purity of his motives in opposing Philip on behalf of his countrymen.

Now for what reason, you may be wondering, were the peoples of Olynthus and Eretria and Oreus more agreeably disposed towards Philip’s advocates than towards their own? The reason was the same as it is with you, that those who speak for your true good can never, even if they would, speak to win popularity with you. They are constrained to inquire how the State may be saved: while their opponents, in the very act of seeking popularity, are co-operating with Philip.

The one party said, “You must pay taxes.” The other, “There is no need to do so.” The one said, “Go to war, and do not trust him.” The other, “Remain at peace.” – until they were in the toils. And, not to mention each separately, I believe that the same thing was true of all. The one side said what would enable them to win favor; the other, what would secure the safety of their State. And at last the main body of the people accepted much that they proposed, not now from any such desire for gratification, nor from ignorance, but as a concession to circumstances, thinking that their cause was now wholly lost.

It is this fate, I solemnly assure you, that I dread for you, when the time comes that you make your reckoning, and realize that there is no longer anything that can be done. May you never find yourselves, men of Athens, in such a position! Yet in any case, it were better to die ten thousand deaths, than to do anything out of servility towards Philip or to sacrifice any of those who speak for your good. A noble recompense did the people in Oreus receive, for entrusting themselves to Philip’s friends, and thrusting Euphraeus aside! And a noble recompense the democracy of Eretria, for driving away your envoys, and surrendering to Cleitarchus! They are slaves, scourged and butchered! A noble clemency did he show to the Olynthians, who elected Lasthenes to command the cavalry, and banished Apollonides!

It is folly, and it is cowardice, to cherish hopes like these, to give way to evil counsels, to refuse to do anything that you should do, to listen to the advocates of the enemy’s cause, and to fancy that you dwell in so great a city that, whatever happens, you will not suffer any harm.

Aye, and it is shameful to exclaim after the event, “Why, who would have expected this? Of course, we ought to have done, or not to have done, such and such things!” The Olynthians could tell you of many things, to have foreseen which in time would have saved them from destruction. So too could the people of Oreus, and the Phocians, and every other people that has been destroyed.

But how does that help them now? So long as the vessel is safe, be it great or small, so long must the sailor and the pilot and every man in his place exert himself and take care that no one may capsize it by design or by accident: but when the seas have overwhelmed it, all their efforts are in vain.

So it is, men of Athens, with us. While we are still safe, with our great city, our vast resources, our noble name, what are we to do? Perhaps some one sitting here has long been wishing to ask this question. Aye, and I will answer it, and will move my motion; and you shall carry it, if you wish. We ourselves, in the first place, must conduct the resistance and make preparation for it with ships, that is, and money, and soldiers. For though all but ourselves give way and become slaves, we at least must contend for freedom.

And when we have made all these preparations ourselves, and let them be seen, then let us call upon the other states for aid, and send envoys to carry our message in all directions, to the Peloponnese, to Rhodes, to Chios, to the king. For it is not unimportant for his interests either that Philip should be prevented from subjugating the world, that so, if you persuade them, you may have partners to share the danger and the expense, in case of need; and if you do not, you may at least delay the march of events.

For since the war is with a single man, and not against the strength of a united state, even delay is not without its value, any more than were those embassies of protest which last year went round the Peloponnese, when I and Polyeuctus, that best of men, and Hegesippus and the other envoys went on our tour, and forced him to halt, so that he neither went to attack Acarnania, nor set out for the Peloponnese.

But I do not mean that we should call upon the other states, if we are not willing to take any of the necessary steps ourselves. It is folly to sacrifice what is our own, and then pretend to be anxious for the interests of others, to neglect the present, and alarm others in regard to the future. I do not propose this. I say that we must send money to the forces in the Chersonese, and do all that they ask of us. That we must make preparation ourselves, while we summon, convene, instruct, and warn the rest of the Hellenes.

That is the policy for a city with a reputation such as yours. But if you fancy that the people of Chalcis or of Megara will save Hellas, while you run away from the task, you are mistaken. They may well be content if they can each save themselves. The task is yours. It is the prerogative that your forefathers won, and through many a great peril bequeathed to you.

But if each of you is to sit and consult his inclinations, looking for some way by which he may escape any personal action, the first consequence will be that you will never find any one who will act; and the second, I fear, that the day will come when we shall be forced to do, at one and the same time, all the things we wish to avoid.

This then is my proposal, and this I move. If the proposal is carried out, I think that even now the state of our affairs may be remedied. But if any one has a better proposal to make, let him make it, and give us his advice. And I pray to all the gods that whatever be the decision that you are about to make, it may be for your good.

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First Little Red Pill

dore1It happened far back in enough in the near past that we still played “Smear The Queer,” and picking up your home phone might find your ear blasted by the screech and beep of dial internet interruption. I distinctly remember the excited upgrade from 28.8 to 56.6k dial-up as we moved from archaic to the hyper new speeds of the future.

But, maybe, I am getting ahead of myself. So first to borrow from Tolstoy:

All blue-pill minds are alike; but red-pilled minds are each opened in their own ways.

There were always people, kids really, around when I was growing up. My grandfather had a soft spot for lost sheep so to speak, a soft spot which he passed to my mother. She in turn took in children from any situation so that in the eighteen years I lived at home no fewer than nineteen different kids lived for a time under our roof. This was but a small portion of those who were their after school or on the weekends. A practice my parent were fond of as they required anyone who wanted to be at the house on a Wednesday afternoon to go to the mid-week church service, and whomever stayed over on a Saturday went to church on Sunday morning. We lived right center of a small tourist stop–arts and craft traditionals before homesteading was cool–in the middle of flyover country USA. Needless to say it didn’t take much freedom to make our home the hub my parents wished it to be.

I had been out driving around with Fat Falstaff and a Young Lear smoking cigarettes illicitly obtained through a compatriot at our local convenience store. Falstaff was wont to soap box often. This particular day for whatever reason I was of no mind to tolerate his regularly scheduled delusions most of which were far flung conspiracies, or so in a blue-pill world they would seem. I wonder now, if I could remember his rants in better detail, how many ramblings would be as prophetic as the one on this day. The details of what he said are a bit fuzzy now, but the gist of it was that in Europe there was talk of installing camera all over the major cities, I imagine now that he had read about cameras in London, however, he was so scant on details and rather high on open-source nonsense and generalities. I was under the impression that he had just watched 1984; he wasn’t much of the reading type.

Young Lear and I just wanted to hang out, but the conversation had been commandeered and there would be no going back.  We would have been happy to smoke and discuss the merits and demerits of the young ladies at the church youth and our plans to bed them. Poorly laid plans if I recall clearly.

Falstaff would not have it. Would not let it go. Would not relent. Would not let the conversation go its way. I snapped. I started yelling that he should shut his damn mouth about it already, that if things were so bad, and that if he was worried about that sort of thing coming to the US (how far fetched that all seemed to a younger dumber me) he should do something about it. He should stop bitching and carrying on about nothing and do something. Anything. Falstaff was three years my elder and at least thrice my weight. I pushed him back into his seat and resumed my quiet existence. I was an idiot a brooding artist. So the every act of my out-of-character aggression was enough to unsettle the rest of afternoon.

When I was back home that night the scene replayed in my mind. There was one thought more than the others that I could not escape: the thought of doing something, of doing anything. I knew in a sense that we didn’t do anything, that my friends and I were self absorbed solipsistic young men wasting ourselves, and yet that one thought was the first to rise close enough to the top to be fully seen and understood. I wondered what it was that I was telling my friend he should be doing; frankly, I hadn’t the slightest idea what was involved. I recalled my older brother talking about a thing called the Anarchist’s Cookbook. I never did find it.

I dialed up the internet and head to webcrawler or altavista or whatever people used before Google or like after people stop using Google and moved to DuckDuckGo. I typed the only word I knew that had to do with fighting the powers that be: Anarchism. At the time I remember one paragraph from my history class where from sheer boredom I read ahead and finished the book. The passage described the Haymarket Anarchists in about twenty-five words. The vision of anarchy I had was mustachioed men in bowler had bare-fist boxing and bomb-throwing.

However, on the page, in the age where eighty percent of the internet had geocities in the address and the other twenty percent was mostly porn and warez,  I found a website anarchy4all. It is long since defunct. At the time it existed as a whole world apart from country-town existence. There were hundreds of article of corruption and collusion most modern, some from previous ages, Rome, the Decembrists, Bakunin, Goldsmith, Voltarinine de Cleyre, even Lysander Spooner. Then there were quotes from Bush the Elder and the Rapist Clinton.

I accepted everything. Every word I ingested, and I came back. And again, and again. For three days as soon as my parents were in bed and my brother was off playing SNES I dialed-up anarchy4all and read. The third night I found an article. No. Not an article. The article. Not just the article. I found the red-pill. And Morpheus extended his hand out to me and offered the chance to unplugged or to shut off the monitor and go to bed and wake up as though nothing had changed. But we all know that when the offer of the awakening comes it is only because one is already waking up; it is only when we are sitting with our eyes wide that the opportunity can even be seen.

The gist of the article is thus: There is a managerial class of people, the elite upper echelons and through their money and power they influence all aspects of society. We are in fact not free but chained by our own ignorance. Our public institutions were designed, and specifically our  public schools, to make the people into sheep who would more easily do as they were needed for their little handouts and pats on the head.

No one wants you to be educated. A rich mind is a free mind and a free mind will not be enslave and cannot be controlled. No one wants you to be educated. The powers in this world do not care if you are smart as long as you are ignorant so that you may be misled and misdirected with the slight of hand and the collusion of the media. Think whatever you will as long as those thoughts are ephemeral and clouded.

No one is responsible for your education, and if you remain uneducated you remain enslaved. There is only one action to take, only one path to proceed. To break free one must read from the greatest minds just as one who would paint must paint after the masters of the ateliers and the renaissance.

And there was my answer to what I could do.

What followed was a list which I copied down into a sketch book that I carried on my person at all times. The list was presented as a starting point the author expecting that anyone who made a start would find the canon of the west opening before them. Naturally, the author wrote, these would lead to more and if one kept reading he would no longer be a slave but he would become a free man.

When I considered this post I thought I should see if I still had the list. I did. And now so do you.

Lao Tzu – Tao te Ching
Confucius – The Analects
Sappho – Lyrics
Sophocles* – Oedipus, Antigone
Euripedes – Medea
Plato* – Apology, Republic, Protagoras, Meno, Gorgias
Aristotle – Ethics, Politics, Poetics, Rhetoric
Plutarch – Lives: Marcus Cato
Virgil – Aeneid
Ovid – Metamorphosis
Marcus Aurelius – Meditations
St. Augustine – City of God, Confessions
Maimonides – Guide to the Perplexed
Avicenna – Psychology
Dante – Divine Comedy
Chaucer – Canterbury Tales
Machiavelli – The Prince
Montaigne – Essays
John Locke – Civil Government, Essays Concerning Human Understanding
Jean Jacques Rousseau – The Social Contract
Musashi – The Book of Five Rings
Adam Smith – The Wealth of Nations
Alexis de Tocqueville – Democracy in America
Voltaire – Candide

*Plato – Complete Dialogues
*Sophocles – Complete Plays

Veritas numquam perit,
The Poet

Posted in Autodidacticism, Renaissance, Western Heritage | 2 Comments

I’m Back Baby


I started this site over four years ago now. I had a pretty good run their for the better part of six months until I moved across the country. I spent the better part of three years destroying myself working in a factory in the Midwest. It was brutal work, but gratifying in the way the hard labors are for a man. I kept at it for so long, in part because the pay was good and there was such little responsibility, in part because it was easy, and it part because it was the best immediate option I had for supporting my family.  The down side largely came here, this place became stagnant and slowly died away; I believe the only visitors I have now are dead ends from dindadu google images.

I can’t pick up where I left off as so very much has altered in the last four years. The manosphere, if one were so inclined to argue for its continuing existence, has grown into a thing greater than its parts–the Alt-Right, which when I left off existed as little more than a few outliers, and now Vox Day roughs out the lines, and provides insight into its limits, in much the same way that I remember Alpha Game Plan laying out the expanded Alpha/Beta/Gamma et al metric. And before that Roissy–do we still call him that, or is it @chateau_pussygrab– laid out the 16 maxims to rule them all.  I’ve been watching from the sidelines  while it played out. Did anyone expect Mike Cernovich to explode into the megalith he has become? Maybe Victor Pride.

Going through the old link on my side bar and over half led off to the abyss of those who went before. Clicking through in a single sitting was somewhat akin to when Bronan the Barbarian and then University of Man closed up shop within such a short widow, but here were not two but many many blogs gone to the waste bin, deleted, closed for private viewership, or now brought to you by Chinese domain hoarders.

In tradition to the old days of this a running link fest. Linkage is Good For You.

30 Days to X

Alpha Game Plan

Alternative Right


Attack The System

Bayou Renaissance Man

Captain Capitalism

Carnivore’s Cave

Charles Sledge

Chateau Heartiste


Danger And Play


Dark Triad Man

Free Northerner

Futility Closet

Hawaiian Libertarian

Honor And Daring

Il Risorgemento

Jack Donovan

Le Cygne Gris

Male Defender


Married Man Sex Life

Maverick Philosopher

Mountain Guerilla

MRDA’s Inferno

Naughty Nomad


Random Xpat Rantings

Return of Kings

The Barbaric Gentleman

The Gentleman’s Club

The Last Refuge

The Primal Male

The Quest Forever

The Right Stuff

Vox Popoli

Whiskeys Place

Veritas Numquam Perit

The poet

You should follow me on because SoAG will be great again.

Posted in Linkage, Renaissance | 2 Comments

Honore de Balzac: Ferragus. . .

BalzacFerragus01It is my hope that the few readers that my still happen my this defunct and lonely place might chance to see this truth bomb and spread it about.  It is an exceptional statement of the nature of woman from Honore de Balzac’s Ferragus.  Let me set the stage:

One Monsieur de Maulincour has happened to see Madame Desmarets, a woman he suffers unrequited oneitis for, entering a house of ill repute on a street of ill repute. After confronting her a fete he takes up spying on the woman to discover her secret.  A series of assassination attempts leave Maulincour in a state of racked nerves–not unlike Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment–when after believing the police have disposed of the woman’s accomplice approaches the Madame at yet another Parisian ball.


“Madame, your bravi have missed me three times.”

“What can you mean monsieur?” she said flushing. “I know that you have had several unfortunate accidents lately, which I have greatly regretted; but how could I have had anything to do with them?”

“You knew that bravi were employed against me by that man of the rue Soly?”


“Madame, I now call you to account, not for my happiness only, but for my blood–:

At that instant Jules Desmarets approached them.

“What are you saying to my wife, monsieur?”

“Make that inquiry at my own house, monsieur, if you are curious,” said Maulincour, moving away, and leaving Madame [Desmarets] in an almost fainting condition.

There are few women who have not found themselves, once at least in their live, a propos of some undeniable fact, confronted with a direct, sharp, uncompromising question–one of those questions pitilessly asked by husbands, the mere apprehension of which gives a chill, while the actual words enter the heart like the blade of a dagger. It is from such cries that the maxim has come, “All women lie.: Falsehood, kindly falsehood, venial falsehood, sublime falsehood, horrible falsehood–but always the necessity to lie. This necessity admitted, ought they not to know how to lie well? French women do it admirably. Our manners and customs teach them deception! Besides, women are so naively saucy, so pretty, graceful, and withal so true in lying,–they recognize so fully the utility of doing so in order to avoid in social life the violent shocks which happiness might not resist,–that lying seem to be as necessary to their lives as the cottonwool in which they put away their jewels. Falsehood becomes to them the foundation of speech; truth is exceptional; they tell it, if they are virtuous, by caprice or calculation. According to individual character, some women laugh when they lie; others weep; others are grave; some grow angry. After beginning life by feigning indifference to the homage that deeply flatters them, they often end by lying to themselves. Who has not admired their apparent superiority to everything at the very moment when they are trembling for the secret treasures of their love? Who has never studied their ease, their readiness, their freedom of mind in the greatest embarrassments of life? In them, nothing is put on. Deception comes as the snow from heaven And then, with what art they discover the truth in others! With what shrewdness they employ a direct logic in answer to some passionate question which has revealed to them the secret of the heart of a man who was guileless enough to proceed by questioning! To question a woman! why, that is delivering one’s self up to her;  does she not learn in that way all that we seek to hide from her? Does she not know also how to be dumb, though speaking? What men are daring enough to struggle with Parisian women?–a woman who knows how to hold herself above all dagger thrusts, saying: “You are very inquisitive; what is it to you? Why do you wish to know? Ah! you are jealous! And suppose I do not choose to answer you?”–in short, a woman who possesses the hundred and thirty-seven methods of saying No, and incommensurable variations of the word Yes. Is not a treatise on the words yes and no, a fine diplomatic, philosophic, logographic, and moral work, still waiting to be written? But to accomplish this work, which we may call diabolic, isn’t an androgynous genius necessary? For that reason, probably, it will never be attempted. And besides, of all unpublished works isn’t it the best known and the best practiced among women? Have you studied the behavior, the pose, the disinvoltura of a falsehood? Examine it.

Ferragus, Honore de Balzac

Balzac is undoubtedly the greatest novelist to ever life. Not that has lived yet, but most probably the greatest that ever will. He astute, observant, and messy.  I cannot comment on his style as I do not read French, but his translators convey something elegant and unstilted. Examine him.

Veritas numquam perit,
The Gentleman Poet

Posted in Game, Marriage, Reading, Western Heritage | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Alexandre Dumas (pere). . .

With this hair, banged six sluts before lunch.

With this hair, banged six sluts before lunch. Then wrote two books before dinner.

“Monsieur!” said the young woman, supplicating him, and clasping her hands together; “monsieur, in the name of heaven, by the name of a soldier, by the courtesy of a gentleman depart–there–there is midnight striking–that is the hour at which I am expected.”

“Madame,” said the young man, boding; “I can refuse nothing asked of me thus; be satisfied, I will depart.”

“But, you will not follow me; you will not watch me?”

“I will return home instantly.”

“Ah! I was quite sure you were a good and brave man,” said Madame Bonacieux, holding out her hand to him, and placing the other upon the knocker of a little door almost hidden in the wall.

D’Artagnan seized the hand that was held out to him, and kissed it ardently.

“Ah! I wish I had never seen you!” cried D’Artagnan, with that ingenuous roughness,which women often prefer to the affections of politeness, because it betrays the depth of the thought, and proves that feeling prevails over reason.

“Well!” resumed Madame Bonacieux, in a voice that was almost caressing, and pressing the hand of D’Artagnan, who had not left hold of hers, “well! I will not say as much as you do: what is lost for to-day may not be lost forever. Who knows, when I shall be some day at liberty, that I may not satisfy your curiosity?”. . .

The Three Musketeers

Alexandre Dumas (pere) both a great literary master and a master of the venereal arts boffed forty women in forty known affairs and likely more than this in unkown affairs.  Such a pair of stone had he, that one such bastard, a literary giant in his own right, Alexandre Dumas (fils), bears the name of his father.  This in the middle of the 19th century France.

Also of note, though best known for the D’Artagnan romantic cycle (Three Musketeers, Man in the Iron Mask, et al) Dumas hustled. His hustle, like that of master artists from bygone years, consisted of a literary factory so that when considering the breadth of Dumas’ 100,000 word corpus remember that his stamp is upon them all but not his pen.  Roosh might consider setting himself up with a corps of his own and press out Bangs for the remaining couple hundred countries Food for thought.

Veritas numquam perit,

The Poet.

Posted in Autodidacticism, Reading, Western Heritage | Tagged , , | 5 Comments

The Lays Of Ancient Rome. . .

Never enough time. . .


Now by your children’s cradles, now by your father’s graves,
Be men today, Quirites, or be forever slaves!
For this did Servius give us laws? For this did Lucrece bleed?
For this was the great vengeance wrought on Tarquin’s evil seed?
For this did those false sons make red the axes of their sire?
For this did Scaevola’s right had hiss in the Tuscan fire?
Shall the vile fox-earth awe the race that stormed the lion’s den?
Shall we, who could not brook one lord, crouch to the wicked Ten?
Oh for that ancient spirit which curbed the Senate’s will!
Oh for the tents which in old time whitened the Sacred Hill!
In those brave days our father stood firmly side by side;
They faced the Marcian fury; they tamed the Fabian pride:
They drove the fiercest Quinctius outcast forth from Rome;
They sent the haughtiest Claudius with shivered fasces home.
But what their care bequeathed us our madness flung away:
All the ripe fruit of three score years was blighted in a day.
Exult, ye proud Patricians! The hard-fought fight is o’er.
We strove for honours–twas in vain: for freedom–’tis no more.
No crier to the polling summons the eager throng;
No tribune breathes the word of might that guards the weak from wrong.
Our very hearts, that were so high, sink down beneath your will.
Riches, and lands, and power, and state–ye have them:–keep them still.
Still keep the holy fillets’; still keep the purple gown,
The axes, and the curule chair, the car, and laurel crown:
Still press us for your cohorts, and, when the fight is done,
Still fill your garners from the soil which our good swords have won.
Still, like a spreading ulcer, which leechcraft may not cure,
Let your foul usance eat away the substance of the poor.
Still let your haggard debtors bear all their fathers bore;
Still let your dens of torment be noisome of yore;
No fire when Tiber freezes; no air in dog-star heat;
And store of rods for free-born backs, and holes for free-born feet.
Heap heavier still the fetter; bar closer still the grate;
Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate.
But, by the Shades beneath us, and by the Gods above,
Add not unto your cruel hate your yet more cruel love!

Have ye not graceful ladies, whose spotless lineage springs
From Consuls, and High Pontiffs, and ancient Alban kings?
Ladies, who deign not on our paths to set their tender feet,
Who from their cars look down with scorn upon the wondering street,
Who in Corinthian mirrors their own proud smiles behold,
And breathe of Capuan odours, and shine with Spanish gold?
Then leave the poor Plebian his single tie to life–
The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife,
The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vexed soul endures,
The kiss, in which he half forgets even such a yoke as yours.
Still let the maiden’s beauty swell the father’s breast with pride;
Still let the bridegroom’s arms infold an unpolluted bride.
Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame,
That turns the cowards hearth to steel, the sluggard’s blood to flame,
Lest, when our latest hope is fled, ye taste of our despair,
And learn by proof, in some wild how much the wretched dare.

-Macualay’s Virginia, from The Lays of Ancient Rome

Make of it what you will, the acts are all the same;
The players may have shifted, the story is unchanged.

Veritas numquam perit,
The Gentleman Poet

Posted in Ancient History, Poetry, Reading, Romans | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments