[1]  ON A SATYR.
THERE was a certain cave near Thebes in Egypt 
which resembled a shepherd's pipe, since as it 
followed its winding course in the depths of the 
earth it formed a natural spiral ; for it did not take 
a straight course at the opening and then branch
off into straight-running corridors, but winding 
about under the mountain it made a huge spiral, 
ending in a most difficult	 
maze. In it was set up an image of a 
Satyr wrought in marble. He stood 
on a base in the attitude of one making 
ready to dance, and lifting the sole of 
his right foot backward he not only 
held a flute in bis hand but also was
being the first to leap up at its sound ;
though in reality the flute's note was
not reaching the player's ear, nor yet
was the flute endowed with voice, but
the physical effect which flute-players	
experience had been transferred to the stone by the 
skill of the artist. You could have seen the veins 
standing out as though they were filled with a sort 
of breath, the Satyr drawing the air from bis lungs
to bring notes from the flute, the statue eager to be 
in action, and the stone entering upon strenuous 
activity—for it persuaded you that the power to 
blow the flute was actually inherent in it, and that 
the indication of breathing was the result of its 
own inner powers —finding a way to accomplish 
the impossible. The body had no trace of delicacy, 
but the hardness of the members had stolen away 
their beauty, making the form rugged with the 
symmetry of manly limbs. For though soft skin 
and dainty limbs befit a beautiful girl, the appearance 
of a Satyr is unkempt, as of a mountain spirit that 
leaps in honour of Dionysus. The statue was 
wreathed with ivy, though the sculptor's art did not 
cull real berries from a meadow, nay, rather, it was 
the stone which for all its hardness spread out into 
sprays and encircled the hair, creeping back from 
the forehead till the ends met at the sinews of the 
neck. Pan stood beside him, delighting in the 
music of the flute and embracing Echo, in fear, I 
suppose, lest the flute set in motion some musical 
sound and induce the Nymph to make an echoing 
response to the Satyr. When we saw this statue 
we could well believe that the Ethiopian stone 
statue of Memnon also became vocal, the Memnon, 
who when Day came was filled with joy by her 
presence, and, overcome by distress when she departed, 
groaned with grief—the only stone figure 
that has been moved by the presence of joy and 
sadness to depart from its natural dumbness, so far 
overcoming its insensibility as to gain the power of speech.

[2] ON THE STATUE OF A BACCHANTE.
It is not the art of poets and writers of prose 
alone that is inspired when divine power from the 
gods falls on their tongues, nay, the hands of 
sculptors also, when they are seized by the gift 
of a more divine inspiration, give utterance to 
creations that are possessed and full of madness. 
So Scopas, moved as it were by some inspiration, 
imparted to the production of this statue the divine 
frenzy within him. Why should I not describe to 
you from the beginning the inspiration of this work of art ?
A statue of a Bacchante, wrought from Parian 
marble, bas been transformed into a real Bacchante. 
For the stone, while retaining its own nature, yet 
seemed to depart from the law which governs 
stone ; what one saw was really an image, but art 
carried imitation over into actual reality. You 
might have seen that, hard though it was, it 
became soft to the semblance of the feminine, its 
vigour, however, correcting the femininity, and that, 
though it had no power to move, it knew how to 
leap in Bacchic dance and would respond to the god 
when he entered into its inner being. When we 
saw the face we stood speechless ; so manifest upon
it was the evidence of sense perception, though 
perception was not present ; so clear an intimation 
was given of a Bacchante's divine possession stirring 
Bacchic frenzy though no such possession aroused 
it; and so strikingly there shone from it, fashioned 
by art in a manner not to be described, all the signs 
of passion which a soul goaded by madness displays. 
The hair fell free to be tossed by the wind and 
was divided to show the glory of each strand, 
which thing indeed most transcended reason, seeing 
that, stone though the material was, it lent itself 
to the lightness of hair and yielded to imitation of 
locks of hair, and though void of the faculty of life, 
it nevertheless had vitality. Indeed you might say 
that art has brought to its aid the impulses of 
growing life, so unbelievable is what you see, so 
visible is what you do not believe. Nay, it actually 
showed hands in motion—for it was not waving the 
Bacchic thyrsus, but it carried a victim as if it were 
uttering the Evian cry, the token of a more poignant 
madness ; and the figure of the kid was livid in 
colour, for the stone assumed the appearance of 
dead flesh ; and though the material was one and 
the same it severally imitated life and death, for it 
made one part instinct with life and as though eager 
for Cithaeron, and another part brought to death by 
Bacchic frenzy, its keen senses withered away. 
Thus Scopas fashioning creatures without life was 
an artificer of truth and imprinted miracles on bodies 
made of inanimate matter ; while Demosthenes, 
fashioning images in words, almost made visible a 
form of words by mingling the medicaments of art
with the creations of mind and intelligence. You 
will recognize at once that the image set up to 
be gazed at has not been deprived of its native 
power of movement ; nay, that it at the same time 
is master of and by its outward configuration keeps 
alive its own creator.

[3] ON THE STATUE OF EROS.
My discourse desires to interpret another sacred 
work of art; for it is not right for me to refuse 
to eall the productions of art sacred. The Eros, 
the workmanship of Praxiteles, was Eros himself, a 
boy in the bloom of youth with wings and bow. 
Bronze gave expression to him, and as though 
giving expression to Eros as a great and dominating 
god, it was itself subdued by Eros ; for it could not 
endure to be just bronze, but it became Eros with 
all his greatness. You might have seen the bronze 
losing its hardness and becoming marvellously 
delicate in the direction of plumpness and, to put 
the matter briefly, the material proving equal to 
fulfilling all the obligations that were laid upon 
it. It was supple but without effeminacy ; and 
while it had the proper colour of bronze, it looked
bright and fresh ; and though it was quite devoid 
of actual motion, it was ready to display motion ; 
for though it was fixed solidly on a pedestal, it 
deceived one into thinking that it possessed the 
power to fly. It was filled with joy
even to laughter, the glance from the
eyes was ardent and gentle, and one
could see the bronze coming under	
the sway of passion and willingly receiving 
the representation of laughter.
It stood with right hand bent toward	
the head and lifting the bow with its
left; and the even balance of the body's
posture was modified by an inclination	'
toward the left, for the projecting left
hip was raised so as to break the stiffness 
of the bronze and produce an	
easy pose. The head was shaded by
locks that were bright and curly and shining with 
the brightness of youth. And what wonderful 
bronze it was ! for as one looked a ruddy colour 
shone out from the ends of the curls, and when 
one felt the hair it yielded as though soft to 
the touch. As I gazed on this work of art, the 
belief came over me that Daedalus had indeed 
wrought a dancing group in motion and had bestowed 
sensation upon gold, while Praxiteles had 
all but put intelligence into his image of Eros and 
had so contrived that it should cleave the air with 
its wings.

[4] ON THE STATUE OF AN INDIAN.
By a spring stood an Indian, set up as a dedication 
to the Nymphs. The Indian was of a marble 
verging on black and shifting of its own accord to the 
colour given by nature to his race ; and it had thick, 
woolly hair, shining with a hue not exactly black, 
but at the tips vying with the brilliancy of Tyrian 
shellfish ;  for the hair, as if it were well cared for 
and moistened by the neighbouring Nymphs, was 
rather black where it rose from the roots but grew 
purple near the tips. The eyes, however, were not 
of a colour to match the marble for whiteness 
encircled the pupils of the eyes, since the marble 
changed to whiteness at that point where the 
natural colour of the Indian becomes white. 
Drunkenness was overcoming him, and yet the 
colour of the marble did not betray his drunkenness
—for the artist had no means by which to 
redden the cheeks, the black colour being proof 
against this effect of drink—but this condition was 
indicated by the attitude ; for he stood reeling and 
jovial, not able to plant his feet steadily, but trembling 
and tending to sag to the ground. The 
marble resembled a man overcome by this condition, 
and it all but quivers as it indicates the trembling 
that comes from drunkenness. There was nothing 
delicate about the statue of the Indian, nor yet was it 
carefully wrought to match the charm of its colour, 
but it was perfected only as regards the composition
of its limbs. It was unclothed and nude, on the 
ground that the bodies of Indians are wont to 
endure manfully the fiery heat of the midday sun.

[5] ON THE STATUE OF NARCISSUS.
There was a grove, and in it an exceedingly 
beautiful spring of very pure clear water, and by 
this stood a Narcissus made of marble. He was a 
boy, or rather a youth, of the same age as the 
Erotes ; and he gave out as it were	,
a radiance of lightning from the
very beauty of his body. The 
appearance of the statue was as	
follows :—lt was shining with
gilded hair, of which the locks
encircled the forehead in a curve
and hung free down the neck to
the back ; and its glance did not
express unmixed exultation nor yet
pure joy, for in the nature of the	
eyes art had put an indication of
grief, that the image might represent not only both Narcissus 
but also his fate. He was clothed like the Erotes, 
and he resembled them also in that he was in 
the prime of youth. The garb which adorned 
him was as follows : a white mantle, of the same 
colour as the marble of which he was made, encircled 
him ; it was held by a clasp on the right 
shoulder and reached down nearly to the knees, 
where it ended, leaving free, from the clasp down, 
only the hand. Moreover, it was so delicate and 
imitated a mantle so closely that the colour of the
body shone through, the whiteness of the drapery 
permitting the gleam of the limbs to come out. He 
stood using the spring as a mirror and pouring into 
it the beauty of his face, and the spring, receiving 
the lineaments which came from him, reproduced 
so perfectly the same image that the two beings 
seemed to emulate each other. For whereas the 
marble was in every part trying to change the real 
boy so as to match the one in the water, the 
spring was struggling to match the skilful efforts 
of art in the marble, reproducing in an incorporeal 
medium the likeness of the corporeal model and 
enveloping the reflection which came from the 
statue with the substance of water as though it 
were the substance of flesh. And indeed the form 
in the water was so instinct with life and breath 
that it seemed to be Narcissus himself, who, as the 
story goes, came to the spring, and when his form 
was seen by him in the water he died among the 
water-nymphs, because he desired to embrace his 
own image, and now he appears as a flower in the 
meadows in the spring-time. You could have seen 
how the marble, uniform though it was in colour, 
adapted itself to the expression of his eyes, preserved 
the record of his character, showed the 
perception of his senses, indicated his emotions and 
conformed itself to the abondance of his hair as it 
relaxed to make the curls of his locks. Indeed, 
words cannot describe how the marble softened into 
suppleness and provided a body at variance with 
its own essence ; for though its own nature is very 
hard, it yielded a sensation of softness, being dissolved 
into a sort of porous matter. The image 
was holding a syrinx, the instrument with which 
Narcissus was wont to offer music to the gods of 
the flock, and he would make the desert echo with 
his songs whenever he desired to hold converse 
with stringed musical instruments. In admiration 
of this Narcissus, O youths, I have fashioned an 
image of him and brought it before you also in 
the halls of the Muses. And the description is 
such as to agree with the statue.

[6] ON THE STATUE OF OPPORTUNITY AT SICYON.
I desire to set before you in words the creation 
of Lysippus also, the most beautiful of statues, 
which the artist wrought and set up for the 
Sicyonians to look upon. Opportunity was represented 
in a statue of bronze, in which art vied with 
nature. Opportunity was a youth, from head to 
foot resplendent with the bloom of youth. He was 
beautiful to look upon as he waved his downy 
beard and left his hair unconfined for the south 
wind to toss wherever it would ; and he had a 
blooming complexion, showing by its brilliancy 
the bloom of his body. He closely resembled 
Dionysus ; for his forehead glistened with graves, 
and his cheeks, reddening to youthful bloom, were 
radiantly beautiful, conveying to the beholder's 
eye a delicate blush.	- And he stood poised on
the tips of his toes on a sphere, and his feet	
werewinged. His hair did not grow in the he
customary way, but its locks, creeping clown 		-	
over the eyebrows, let the curl fall upon his	
cheeks, while the back of the head of Opportunity 
was without tresses, showing only the first indications 
of sprouting hair. We stood speechless at the sight 
when we saw the bronze accomplishing the deeds of 
nature and departing from its own proper province. 
For though it was bronze it blushed ; and though it 
was hard by nature, it melted into softness, yielding 
to all the purposes of art ; and though it was void of 
living sensation, it inspired the belief that it had 
sensation dwelling within it ; and it really was 
stationary, resting its foot firmly on the ground, 
but though it was standing, it nevertheless gave
evidence of possessing the power of rapid motion; 
and it deceived your eyes into thinking that it 
not only was capable of advancing forward, but 
that it had received from the artist even the power 
to cleave with its wings, if it so wished, the aerial domain.
Such was the marvel, as it seemed to us; but a 
man who was skilled in the arts and who, with a 
deeper perception of art, knew how to track down 
the marvels of craftsmen, applied reasoning to the 
artist's creation, explaining the significance of 
Opportunity as faithfully portrayed in the statue : 
the wings on his feet, he told us, suggested his 
swiftness, and that, borne by the seasons, he goes 
rolling on through all eternity ; and as to his 
youthful beauty, that beauty is always opportune 
and that Opportunity is the only artificer of beauty, 
whereas that of which the beauty has withered 
has no part in the nature of Opportunity ; he also 
explained that the lock of hair on his forehead 
indicated that while he is easy to catch as he 
approaches, yet, when he has once passed by, the 
moment for action has likewise expired, and that, 
if opportunity has been neglected, it cannot be recovered.

[7] ON THE STATUE OF ORPHEUS.
On Helicon —the spot is a shaded precinct sacred 
to the Muses—near the torrent of the river Olmeius 
and the violet-dark spring of Pegasus, there stood 
beside the Muses a statue of Orpheus, the son of 
Calliope, a statue most beautiful to look upon. For 
the bronze joined with art to give birth to beauty, 
indicating by the splendour of the body the musical 
nature of the soul. It was adorned by a Persian tiara 
spangled with gold and rising high up from the head, 
and a chiton hanging from the shoulders to the feet 
was confined at the breast by a golden belt. The 
hair was so luxuriant and so instinct with the spirit 
of life as to deceive the senses into thinking it was 
being tossed and shaken by gusts of wind—for the 
hair behind on the neck fell free down the back, 
while the parted hair which lay above the eyebrows 
gave full view of the pure glance of the eyes. The 
sandal shone brightly with the yellowest of gold, and a 
robe fell ungirded down the back to the ankle ; and 
he was carrying the lyre, which was equipped with 
as many notes as the number of the Muses. For the 
bronze even acted the part of strings and, being so 
modified as to imitate each separate note, it obediently 
carried out the deceit, almost indeed becoming vocal 
and producing the very sound of the notes. Beneath 
his f'eet heaven was not represented nor the Pleiades 
coursing the aether nor the revolving Bear that "has
no part in the baths of Oceanus,"  but there was 
every kind of bird, brought under the spell of the 
singing, and all beasts of the mountains and whatever 
feeds in the recesses of the sea, and a horse 
stood entranced, held in control, not by a bridle, but 
by the music, and a bull, having abandoned its 
pasturage, was listening to the strains of the lyre, 
and lions by nature fierce were being lulled to sleep 
in response to its harmony. You could see the 
bronze taking on the shape of rivers flowing from 
their sources toward the singing, and a wave of the 
sea raising itself aloft for love of the song, and rocks 
being smitten with the sensation of music, and every 
plant in its season hastening from its usual abode 
towards the music of Orpheus ;  and though there 
was nothing that gave out a sound or roused the 
lyre's harmony, yet art made manifest in all the 
animals the emotions excited by their love of music, 
and caused their pleasure to be visible in the bronze, 
and in a wonderful manner expressed the enchantment 
that springs up in the sense-perceptions of the animals.

[8]  ON THE STATUE OF DIONYSUS.
Daedalus, if one is to place credence in the Cretan 
marvel, had the power to construct statues endowed 
with motion and to compel gold to feel human 
sensations, but in truth the hands of Praxiteles
wrought works of art that were altogether alive. 
There was a grove, and in it stood Dionysus  in the 
form of a young man, so delicate that the bronze 
was transformed into flesh, with a body so supple 
and relaxed that it seemed to consist
of some diffèrent material instead of
bronze : for though it was really
bronze, it nevertheless blushed, and
though it had no part in life, it
sought to show the appearance of
life and would yield to the very
finger-tip if you touched it, for though
it was really compact bronze, it was	
so softened into flesh by art that it
shrank from the contact of the hand.
It had the bloom of youth, it was
full of daintiness, it melted with
desire, as indeed Euripides represented 
him when he fashioned his
image in the Bacchae. A wreath of ivy encircled 
the head—since the bronze was in truth 
ivy, bent as it was into sprays and holding up the 
curly locks which fell in profusion from his forehead. 
And it was full of laughter, nay, it wholly passed the 
bounds of wonder in that the material gave out 
evidence of joy and the bronze feigned to represent 
the emotions. A fawn-skin clothed the statue, not 
such as Dionysus was accustomed to wear, but the
bronze was transformed to imitate the
pelt ; and he stood resting his left	
hand on a thyrsus, and the thyrsus 
deceived the beholder's vision; for 
while it was wrought of bronze it
seemed to glisten with the greenness	l 
of young growth, as though it were 
actually transformed into the plant 
itself. The eye was gleaming with 
fire, in appearance the eye of a man 
in a frenzy ; for the bronze exhibited 
the Bacchic madness and seemed to 
be divinely inspired, just as, I think,
Praxiteles had the power to infuse	
into the statue also the Bacchic ecstasy.

[9]  ON THE STATUE OF MEMNON.
I wish to describe to you the miracle of Memnon 
also ; for the art it displayed was truly incredible 
and beyond the power of human hand. There was 
in Ethiopia an image of Memnon, the son of 
Tithonus, made of marble ; however, stone though 
it was, it did not abide within its proper limits nor 
endure the silence imposed on it by nature, but 
stone though it was it had the power of speech. 
For at one time it saluted the rising Day, by its 
voice giving token of its joy and expressing delight 
at the arrival of its mother ; and again, as day 
declined to night, it uttered piteous and mournful 
groans in grief at her departure. Nor yet was the 
marble at a loss for tears, but they too were at hand 
to serve its will. The statue of Memnon, as it seems
to me, differed from a human being only in its body, 
but it was directed and guided by a kind of soul and 
by a will like that of man. At any rate it both had 
grief in its composition and again it was possessed 
by a feeling of pleasure according as it was affected 
by each emotion. Though nature had made all 
stones from the beginning voiceless and mute and 
both unwilling to be under the control of grief and 
also unaware of the meaning of joy, but rather immune 
to all the darts of chance, yet to that stone of 
Memnon art had imparted pleasure and had mingled 
the sense of pain in the rock; and this is the only 
work of art of which we know that has implanted in 
the stone perceptions and a voice. Daedalus did 
indeed boldly advance as far as motion, and the 
products of his art had power to transcend the 
materials of which they were made and to move in 
the dance; but it was impossible and absolutely out 
of the question for him to make statues that could 
speak. Yet the hands of Aethiopians discovered 
means to accomplish the impossible, and they overcame 
the inability of stone to speak. The story runs 
that Echo answered this Memnon when it spoke, 
uttering a mournful note in response to its mournful 
lament and returning a mimicking sound in response 
to its expressions of joy. The statue in question 
both lulled to rest the sorrows of Day and caused her 
to abandon her search for her son, as though the art 
of the Aethiopians were compensating her by means 
of the statue for the Memnon who had been snatched 
away from her by fate.

[10] ON THE STATUE OF PAEAN.
Are we then to believe that the vessel Argo,
which was wrought by the hands of Athena and 
after assumed its allotted place among the stars, 
became capable of speech, and yet in the case of a 
statue into which Asclepius infused his own powers, 
introducing purposeful intelligence therein and thus 
making it a partner with himself, not believe 
that the power of the indwelling god is clearly 
manifest therein ? Nay, more, shall we admit that 
the divine spirit descends into human bodies, there 
to be even defiled by passions, and nevertheless not 
believe it in a case where there is no attendant 
engendering of evil ? To me, at any rate, the object 
before our eyes seems to be, not an image, but 
a modelled presentment of truth ; for see how 
Art not only is not without power to delineate 
character, but, after having portrayed the god in 
an image, it even passes over into the god himself. 
Matter though it is, it gives forth divine intelligence, 
and though it is the work of human hands, it 
succeeds in doing what handicrafts cannot accomplish, 
in that it begets in a marvellous way tokens of 
a soul. The face as you look at it enthralls the 
senses ; for it has not been fashioned to an adventitious 
beauty, but as it raises a saintly and 
benignant eye it flashes forth an indescribable depth 
of majesty tempered with modesty. Curly locks 
abounding in grace,—some fall luxuriant and unconfined 
on the back, while others come down over the
forehead to the eyebrows and hang thick about the 
eyes. But, as if stirred by life and kept moist of 
themselves, they coil themselves into the bending 
curls, the material not rendering obedience to the 
law of art, but realizing that represents a god and 
that he must work bis own will. And although all 
things that are born are wont to die, yet the form 
of the statue, as though carrying within itself the 
essence of health, flourishes in the possession of 
indestructible youth. And so we, O Paean, have 
offered to you the first fruits of discourse, freshly 
made, and the offspring of memory; for you bid us 
do so, I think ; and I am eager also to sing the 
strains to you if you allot me health.

[11] ON THE STATUE OF A YOUTH.
Have you seen on the acropolis the youth which 
Praxiteles set up, or must I set before you the work 
of art ? It was a boy tender and young, and art had 
softened the bronze to express softness and youth ; 
moreover, it abounded in daintiness and desire, and 
it made manifest the bloom of youth. Indeed, it was 
plain to see that in all points the statue was responsive 
to the will of the artist ; for it was tender though 
the essence of the bronze is opposed to tenderness, 
and though devoid of suppleness it yet inclined to 
be supple, and the bronze departed totally from the 
limitations of its own nature and was transmuted
into the true qualities of the subject. Though not 
endowed with breath, it yet began to breathe ; since 
what the material had not inherited as a gift of 
nature, for all this art furnished the capacity. It 
imparted to the cheeks to make them blush—a thing 
incredible—a ruddiness born of the bronze, and a 
bloom of young boyhood shone from it. And the 
hair had curls which tended to fall over the eye-brows. 
But fastening his hair with a band and 
thrusting it back from his brows with a fillet, he kept 
his forehead bare of the locks. When, however, we 
went on to examine the statue part by part and the 
matters of artistry in it, we stood overcome by 
speechlessness; for the bronze showed the flesh 
well nurtured and sleek with oil, and it adapted 
itself to the movement of the hair, now coiling in 
strands of curly locks, now unfolding with the hair 
that strove to pour in broad mass clown the back; 
and where the figure wished to bend, the bronze 
would relax itself to the bending, and where the 
figure would make tense its limbs, the bronze would 
change and become rigid. The eye held a look of 
longing commingled with a passionate modesty, and 
was full of the grace of love; for the bronze knew 
how to imitate love's passion and yielded to the 
image when it wished to indulge in wantonness. 
Though it was motionless, this youth seemed to 
possess the power to move and to be making ready 
to dance.

[12] ON THE STATUE OF A CENTAUR.
On entering an awe-inspiring and ample shrine 
which had received into itself the most beautiful 
statues, I behold set up in the entrance-hall of the 
temple a centaur, not like a man, as Homer represents 
him, but like a "wooded mountain peak".
The centaur was a man down as far as the flanks, then 
it ended in a horse's "four-legged stance." For both 
the horse and the man Nature had cut in two in the 
middle and joined into one body, omitting some 
members and cleverly adapting the rest to each 
other ; since of the human form it took away everything 
from the waist to the feet, while of the horse's 
body it cut off everything down to the navel and 
joined the rest to the human figure, as though the 
horse desired the head, the neck-sinews and that 
part of a man's baek which broadens as it descends, 
while the man sought the firm support of a horse 
from the navel to the feet. Such being the body, 
you could see also a spirit breathing upon the work 
of art, and the cavage type of the body, and the 
animal nature coming to light in the face ; and you 
could see the stone most beautifully interpreting the 
pair and every element striving to express the truth.

[13] ON THE STATUE OF MEDEA.
I also saw the celebrated Medea in the land of the 
Macedonians. It was of marble and disclosed the 
nature of her soul in that art had modelled into it 
the elements which constitute the soul ; for a course 
of reasoning was revealed, and passion was surging 
up, and the figure was passing over into a state of 
grief, and, to put it briefly, what one saw was an 
interpretation of her whole story. For her reasoning 
about her course of action revealed the schemes of 
the woman, the passion connoted by the onset of her 
anger roused her nature to the deed by introducing 
the impulse to murder, and the grief denoted her 
compassion for her children, transforming without 
violence the expression of the marble from passion 
to the natural feeling of a mother. For the figure 
was not relentless nor brutal, but was so apportioned 
as to show both passion and tenderness, thus ministering 
to the varying purposes of her womanly 
nature ; for it was but natural that after her wrath 
was over and she was purified of her passion, she 
should turn to pity, and that when her soul came to a 
realization of her evil deed it should be stirred to pity. 
These passions the figure strove to imitate as well as 
the form of the body, and one could see the marble 
now flashing passion in its eyes, now wearing a look 
sullen and softened into gloom, exactly as if the 
artist had modelled the woman's passionate impulse
in imitation of the drama of Euripides, in which 
Medea not only forms her plan with the exercise of 
a rational intelligence, but also excites her spirit to 
anger as she casts aside the principles fixed by 
nature to govern a mother's love for her offspring, 
and then after the lawless murder she speaks the 
fond words of a mother. Her hand was armed with 
the sword, being ready to minister to her passion as 
she hastens to her foul deed, and her hair was 
unkempt, a mark of squalor, and she wore a garment 
of mourning in conformity to the state of her soul.

[14] ON THE FIGURE OF ATHAMAS.
There was a figure on the Scythian shores, not set 
up for display but fashioned not inelegantly for a 
contest of beauty in painting. It represented 
Athamas goaded on by madness. He was shown as 
naked, his hair reddened with blood and its locks 
flying in the wind, his eye distraught, himself filled 
with consternation ; and he was armed not by madness 
alone for a rash deed, nor did he rage merely with 
the soul-consuming fears which the Furies send; 
nay, he even held a sword out in front of him, like a 
man making a sally. For though the figure was in 
reality withoùt motion, yet it seemed not to retain a
fixed position ; instead it astonished those who saw 
it by a semblance of motion. Ino too was present, 
in a state of terror, trembling slightly, her face pale 
and corpse-like through fright ; and she embraced 
her infant child and held her breast to its lips, 
letting the nurturing drops fall on the nursling. 
The figure of Ino was hastening towards the promontory 
of Sceiron and the sea at the foot of the 
mountain, and the breakers that were wont to surge 
in billows were spreading out in a hollow to receive 
her, and something of Zephyrus pervaded the 
waters as he with shrill blast lulled the sea to rest. 
For in truth the wax  beguiled the senses into 
thinking that it could fashion a breeze and cause the 
sea winds to rise and could apply the art of imitation 
to nature's works. And sea-dolphins were sporting 
near by, coursing through the waves in the painting, 
and the wax seemed to be tossed by the wind and 
to become wet in imitation of the sea, assuming the 
sea's own qualities. Moreover, at the outer edges of 
the painting an Amphitrite rose from the depths, a 
creature of savage and terrifying aspect who flashed 
from her eyes a bright radiance. And round about 
her stood Nereids; these were dainty and bright to 
look upon, distilling love's desire from their eyes ; 
and circling in their dance over crests of the sea's 
waves, they amazed the spectator. About them 
flowed Oceanus, the motion of his Stream being 
well-nigh like the billows of the sea.