| ¡¡ |
|

 |
¾Æ¸®¿Â-À̺ñÄí½º
(Arion - Ibycus) |

 |
| ¡¡ |
|
|
BULFINCH'S MYTHOLOGY
THE AGE OF FABLE
OR STORIES OF GODS AND HEROES
by Thomas Bulfinch
|
|
|
|
¡¡
|
¡¡
|
|
¡¡CHAPTER
XXVI
ARION
IBYCUS
|
Á¦
26 Àå
¾Æ¸®¿Â
À̺ßÄÚ½º
|
SIMONIDES - SAPPHO
|
æ¸ÞÈß¾ÀÇ
ãÌìÑ
|
|
THE poets whose adventures compose this chapter were real
persons some of whose works yet remain, and their
influence on poets who succeeded them is yet more
important than their poetical remains. The adventures
recorded of them in the following stories rest on the same
authority as other narratives of the "Age of
Fable," that is, of the poets who have told them. In
their present form, the first two are translated from the
German, Arion from Schlegel, and Ibycus from Schiller.
|
ÀÌ Àå¿¡¼ ±× ÇàÀûÀ» À̾߱âÇÏ·Á´Â ½ÃÀεéÀº ½ÇÀçÇß´ø Àι°Àε¥, ±×µéÀÇ ÀúÀÛ Áß¿¡´Â ÇöÀç±îÁö ³²¾Æ ÀÖ´Â °Íµµ ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±× ÀúÀÛ ÀÚüº¸´Ùµµ ÈÄ´ëÀÇ ½ÃÀε鿡°Ô ¹ÌÄ£ ±×µéÀÇ ¿µÇâÀÌ´õÁß¿äÇÏ´Ù. ÀÌÁ¦ºÎó À̾߱âÇÏ·Á´Â °ÍÀº ÀÌ·¯ÇÑ ½ÃÀε鿡 ´ëÇØ ±â·ÏµÇ¾î ÀÖ´Â »ç°ÇÀº µ¶ÀÚ°¡ ÀÌÁ¦ Àаí ÀÖ´Â ÀÌ Ã¥ ¼ÓÀÇ ´Ù¸¥ À̾߱â¿Í °°Àº Àü°Å¿¡ ÀÇÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. Áï, ±× À̾߱⸦ ±¸ÀüÇÑ ½ÃÀε鿡 ÀÇÇÑ °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¿©±â¿¡¼ ÃÖÃÊÀÇ µÎ °³´Â µ¶ÀϾî·Î ¹ø¿ªµÈ °ÍÀ̸ç, ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀÇ À̾߱â´Â ½Ç·¹°Ö¿¡¼, ±×¸®°í À̺ßÄÚ½ºÀÇ À̾߱â´Â ½Ç·¯¿¡¼ ÃëÇß´Ù.
|
|
ARION
|
¾Æ¸®¿Â
|
|
Arion was a famous musician, and dwelt at the court of Periander,
king of Corinth,
with whom he was a great favourite. There was to be a
musical contest in Sicily,
and Arion longed to compete for the prize, He told his
wish to Periander, who besought him like a brother to give
up the thought. "Pray stay with me," he said,
"and be contented. He who strives to win may
lose." Arion answered, "A wandering life best
suits the free heart of a poet.
|
¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº
À¯¸íÇÑ À½¾Ç°¡·Î¼, ±×¸¦ ´ë´ÜÈ÷ ÃѾÖÇϰí ÀÖ´ø ÄÚ¸°Å佺¿Õ Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½ºÀÇ ±ÃÁ¤¿¡¼ »ì°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ½ÃÄ̸®¾Æ¿¡¼ À½¾Ç °æ¿¬ÀÌ °ÅÇàµÇ¾úÀ» ¶§, ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº Çö»óÀ» ȹµæÇϰíÀÚ ÀÌ¿¡ Âü°¡Çϱ⸦ ¿øÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×·¡¼ ±×´Â ±×ÀÇ Èñ¸ÁÀ» Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º¿¡°Ô ¸»ÇÏÀÚ
Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º´Â ÇüÁ¦¿Í °°Àº »ç¶ûÀ¸·Î ±×·± »ý°¢À» Æ÷±âÇϵµ·Ï °£Ã»Çß´Ù.
"Á¦¹ß ³» °ç¿¡ ÀÖ¾î ÁÖ¿À. ³ª¿Í °°ÀÌ ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀ¸·Î ¸¸Á·ÇÏ°í µý »ý°¢Àº ¸¶½Ê½Ã¿À. ½Â¸®¸¦ ¾òÀ¸·Á´Â ÀÚ´Â ½Â¸®¸¦ ÀÒ´Â ¹ýÀÌ¿À." ÇÏ°í ±×´Â ¸»Çß´Ù.
ÀÌ¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº ´ë´äÇß´Ù. ¹æ¶û»ýȰÀ̾߸»·Î ½ÃÀÎÀÇ ÀÚÀ¯·ÎÀº ¸¶À½¿¡´Â°¡Àå ¾î¿ï¸®´Â °ÍÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
|
|
The talent which a god
bestowed on me, I would fain make a source of pleasure to
others. And if I win the prize, how will the enjoyment of
it be increased by the consciousness of my widespread
fame!" He went, won the prize, and embarked with his
wealth in a Corinthian ship for home. On the second morning after setting sail, the wind
breathed mild and fair. "O Periander," he
exclaimed, "dismiss your fears! Soon shall you forget
them in my embrace. |
|
"³ª´Â ½Å¿¡°Ô¼ºÎ¿©¹ÞÀº Àç´ÉÀ» ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷¿¡°Ôµµ Áñ°Å¿òÀÇ ¿øÃµÀÌ µÇ°Ô ÇÏ°í ½Í½À´Ï´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¸¸ÀÏ¿¡ ³»°¡»óÀ»Å¸°Ô µÈ´Ù¸é,±× ±â»ÝÀº ¾ó¸¶³ª Å©¤Ä¤¡¤¶½À´Ï±î. ³ªÀÇ ¸í¼ºÀÌ ³Î¸® ÆÛÁ÷ µÉ ÅÍÀ̴ϱî¿ä."
±×¸®°í ±×´Â°¡¼ »óÀ» Ÿ°í ¸¹Àº »óǰÀ» ÄÚ¸°ÃʽºÀÇ ¹è¿¡ ½Æ°í ±Í·Î¿¡¿À¶ú´Ù. Ãâ¹üÇÑ ´ÙÀ½³¯ ¾ÆÄ§¿¡´Â ¹Ù¶÷ÀÌ ¿ÂÈÇÏ°Ô ºÒ¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â ºÎ¸£Â¢¾ú´Ù.
"¿À! Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º¿©, ÀÌÁ¦ °ÆÁ¤ÇÒ °Í ¾ø½À´Ï´Ù. ·± °ÍÀº ¸ÓÁö¾Ê¾Æ ´ç½Å°ú Æ÷¿ËÇÏ´À ¼ø°£ ÀØ°Ô µÉ °ÍÀÔ´Ï´Ù. |
|
|
With what lavish offerings will we
display our gratitude to the gods, and how merry will we
be at the festal board!" The wind and sea continued
propitious. Not a cloud dimmed the firmament. He had not
trusted too much to the ocean- but he had to man. He
overheard the seamen exchanging hints with one another,
and found they were plotting to possess themselves of his
treasure. Presently they surrounded him loud and mutinous,
and said, "Arion, you must die! If you would have a
grave on shore, yield yourself to die on this spot; but if
otherwise, cast yourself into the sea." "Will
nothing satisfy you but my life?" said he. "Take
my gold, and welcome, I willingly buy my life at that
price." "No, no; we cannot spare you. Your life
would be too dangerous to us. Where could we go to escape
from Periander, if he should know that you had been robbed
by us? Your gold would be of little use to us, if, on
returning home, we could never more be free from
fear." "Grant me, then," said he, "a
last request, since nought will avail to save my life,
that I may die, as I have lived, as becomes a bard. When I
shall have sung my death song, and my harp-strings shall
have ceased to vibrate, then I will bid farewell to life,
and yield uncomplaining to my fate." This prayer,
like the others, would have been unheeded,- they thought
only of their booty,- but to hear so famous a musician,
that moved their rude hearts. "Suffer me," he
added, "to arrange my dress. Apollo
will not favour me unless I be clad in my minstrel
garb."
|
±×¿ì¸®´Â ¸¹Àº Àç¹°À» ¾Æ³¦¾øÀÌ ½Åµé¿¡°Ô ¹ÙÄ¡°Ô µÉ °ÍÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ±×·¯¸é ÃàÇÏ¿¬ÀÇ ½ÄŹÀÇ ½ÄŹÀº ¾ó¸¶³ª Áñ°Ì°Ú½À´Ï±î."
¹Ù¶÷°ú ¹Ù´Ù´Â ¿©ÀüÈ÷ Æò¿ÂÇßÀ¸¸ç, Çϴÿ¡´Â ±¸¸§ ÇÑ Á¡ ¾ø¾ú´Ù. ¹Ù´Ù´Â °ú½ÅÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾ÒÀ¸³ª Àΰ£Àº ³Ê¹«³ª °ú½ÅÇß´Ù. ±×´Â ¼öºÎµéÀÌ ¹«¾ùÀΰ¡ ¼·Î ¼ö±º°Å¸®°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀ» ¿³µé¾ú°í, ¿©·µÀ̼ ÀÚ±âÀÇ Àç¹°À» ¾àÅ»ÇÏ·Á°í À½¸ð¸¦ ²Ù¹Ì°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë¾Ò´Ù. ±×µéÀº °ð ¼Ò¸®¸¦ Áö¸£¸ç ºÒ¼ÕÇÑ Åµµ·Î ±×¸¦ µÑ·¯½Î°í ¸»Çß´Ù.
"¾Æ¸®¿Â, ³Ê´Â Á×¾î¾ß ÇÑ´Ù. À°Áö¿¡ ¹¦¸¦ °¡Áö°í ½ÍÀ¸¸é ¾äÀüÈ÷ ÀÌ ÀÚ¸®¿¡¼ Á×°í, ±×·¸Áö ¾Ê´Ù¸é ¹Ù´Ù¿¡ Åõ½ÅÇ϶ó."
"²À ³ªÀÇ »ý¸íÀ» »©¾Ñ¾Æ¾ß°Ú´Â°¡?" ÇÏ°í ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº ¸»Çß´Ù. "³ªÀÇ Àç¹°ÀÌ Å½ÀÌ ³´Ù¸é ÁÁ´Ù. °¡Á®¶ó. ³ª´Â ±â²¨ÀÌ ±× µ·À¸·Î ³» ¸ñ¼ûÀ» »ç°Ú´Ù."
"¾Æ´Ï ¾ÈµÈ´Ù. ¿ì¸®´Â ³Ê¸¦ »ì·Á µÑ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. ³ÊÀÇ »ý¸íÀº ¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô ³Ê¹«µµ À§Ç轺·´´Ù. ¿ì¸®°¡ °µµÁúÀ» ÇÑ °ÍÀ» Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º°¡ ¾Ë±â¶óµµ ÇÑ´Ù¸é ¿ì¸®´Â ±×¸¦ ÇÇÇÏ¿© ¾îµð·Î µµ¸ÁÄ¥ ¼ö Àְڴ°¡? Áý¿¡ µ¹¾Æ°¡¼µµ ´Ã °øÆ÷¸¦ ¸éÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù¸é ³ÊÀÇ Àç¹°µµ ¿ì¸®¿¡°Ô´Â ¾Æ¹« ¼Ò¿ëÀÌ ¾øÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù."
±×µé ÁßÀÇ Çϳª°¡ ¸»Çß´Ù.
"±×·¯¸é ¸¶Áö¸· ¼Ò¿øÀ» µé¾î´Ù¿À. ÀÌÁ¦ ¹«¾î¶ó ÇØµµ ³» »ý¸íÀ» ±¸ÇÒ ¼ö ¾øÀ» °Í °°À¸´Ï±î-Á¦¹ß ³ª¸¦ ÀÌÁ¦±îÁö »ì¾Æ¿Â °Íó·³ ¹æ¶û½ÃÀδä°Ô Á×°Ô³ª ÇØ´Ù¿À. ³»°¡ ÀÓÁ¾ÀÇ ³ë·¡¸¦ ´Ù ºÎ¸£°í, ³» ¸®¶óÁÙÀÌ Áøµ¿Çϱ⸦ ±×ÃÆÀ» ¶§, ³ª´Â ÀÌ ¼¼»ó¿¡ À̺®À» °íÇÏ°í ¼ø¼øÈ÷ ¿î¸í¿¡ µû¸£°Ú´Ù."
ÀÌ Ã»¿øµµ ´Ù¸¥ û¿ø°ú ¸¶Âù°¡Áö·Î µé¾îÁÙ °Í °°Áö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù-¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×µéÀº ¿ÀÁ÷ ¾àŻǰ¸¸À» »ý°¢Çϰí ÀÖ¾ú±â ¶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù-±×·¯³ª À¯¸íÇÑ À½¾Ç°¡ÀÇ ³ë·¡¸¦ µéÀ» ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù´Â »ý°¢ÀÌ ±×µéÀÇ °ÅÄ£ ¸¶À½À» ¿òÁ÷¿´´Ù.
"±×·³ Á¦¹ß ÀǺ¹À» °¥¾Æ ÀÔÀ» µ¿¾È Àá½Ã ±â´Ù·Á´Ù¿À. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ³»°¡ ¹æ¶û½ÃÀÎÀÇ ¿ÊÂ÷¸²À» Çϰí ÀÖÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸é ÈûÀ» ºô·Á ÁÖ½ÃÁö ¾ÊÀ¸´Ï±î." ÇÏ°í ±×°¡ µ¡ºÙ¿© ¸»Çß´Ù.
|
|
He clothed his well-proportioned limbs in gold and
purple fair to see, his tunic fell around him in graceful
folds, jewels adorned his arms, his brow was crowned with
a golden wreath, and over his neck and shoulders flowed
his hair perfumed with odours. His left hand held the
lyre, his right the ivory wand with which he struck its
chords. Like one inspired, he seemed to drink the morning air and
glitter in the morning ray. The seamen gazed with
admiration. He strode forward to the vessel's side and
looked down into the deep blue sea. |
|
±×´Â ±ÕÇüÀÌ Àß ÀâÈù ¸ö¿¡ ´«ÀÌ ºÎ½Ç µíÇÑ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ±Ýºû°ú ÀÚÁÖºû ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ¾ú´Ù. ±×ÀÇ ¿ô¿ÊÀº ¿ì¹ÌÇÑ ÁÖ¸§À» ÀÌ·ç¸é¼ ±×ÀÇ ¸öÀ» ½Î°í, º¸¼®Àº ±×ÀÇ ÆÈÀ» Àå½ÄÇϰí, ±Ýºû ȰüÀº ±×ÀÇ À̸¶¸¦ µ¤°í Çâ±â·Î¿î ³¿»õ¸¦ dz±â´Â ¸Ó¸®Ä®ÀÌ ¸ñ°ú ¾î±ú·Î Èê·¯³»·È´Ù. ±×´Â ¿Þ¼Õ¿¡ ¸®¶ó¸¦ Àâ°í ¿À¸¥¼Õ¿¡´Â ¸®¶óÁÙÀ» Ÿ´Â »ó¾Æ ¸·´ë±â¸¦ °¡Áö°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×´À ¿µ°¨À» ¹ÞÀº »ç¶÷°úµµ °°ÀÌ ¾ÆÄ§ °ø±â¸¦ È£ÈíÇÏ°í ¾ÆÄ§ ÇÞºû ¼Ó¿¡¼ ºû³ª°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ¼öºÎµéÀº °¨ÅºÇϸç, ±×¸¦ ÀÀ½ÃÇß´Ù. ±×´Â ¹îÀüÀ¸·Î ¶Ù¾î³ª°¡ ±í°í Ǫ¸¥ ¹Ù´Ù¸¦
³»·Á´Ùº¸¾Ò´Ù. |
|
|
Addressing his lyre,
he sang, "Companion of my voice, come with me to the
realm of shades. Though Cerberus
may growl, we know the power of song can tame his rage. Ye
heroes of Elysium,
who have passed the darkling
flood,- ye happy souls, soon shall I join your band.
Yet can ye relieve my grief? Alas, I leave my friend
behind me. Thou,
who didst find thy Eurydice,
and lose her again as soon as found; when she had vanished
like a dream, how didst thou hate the cheerful light! I
must away, but I will not fear. The gods look down upon
us. Ye who slay me unoffending, when I am no more, your
time of trembling shall come. Ye Nereids,
receive your guest, who throws himself upon your
mercy!" So saying, he sprang into the deep sea. The
waves covered him, and the seamen held on their way,
fancying themselves safe from all danger of detection.
|
¸®¶ó¸¦ ÄÑ¸ç ³ë·¡¸¦ ºÒ·¶´Ù.
"³ªÀÇ ¸ñ¼Ò¸®-³ªÀÇ Ä£±¸¿©, ³ª¿Í ´õºÒ¾î ȲõÀ¸·Î ¿À¶ó. Äɸ£º£·Î½º°¡ À¸¸£··°Å¸°´Ù ÇÏ´õ¶óµµ ³ë·¡ÀÇ ÈûÀº ´ÉÈ÷ ±×ÀÇ ³ë±â¸¦ °¡¶ó¾ÉÈ÷¸®¶ó. ¾îµÎÄÄÄÄÇÑ °À» °Ç³Ê°£ ÇູÇÑ ¼¶¿¡ »ç´Â ¿µ¿õµéÀÌ¿©, ÇູÇÑ ¿µ¿õµéÀÌ¿©, ¾ó¸¶ °¡Áö ¾Ê¾Æ ³ª´Â ±×´ëµéÀÇ ´ë¿¿¡ Âü°¡Çϸ®¶ó. ±×·¯³ª ±×´ëµéÀº ³ªÀÇ ½½ÇÄÀ» °¡¶ó¾ÉÈú ¼ö Àְڴ°¡? ¾Æ, ³ª´Â ³ªÀÇ Ä£±¸¸¦ ÀÌ ¼¼»ó¿¡ ³²°Ü³õ°í °¡¾ß ÇÑ´Ü ¸»Àΰ¡. ¿À¸£Æä¿ì½º¿©, ±×´ë´Â ¿¡¿ì·òµðÄɸ¦ ¹ß°ßÇßÀ¸³ª, ¹ß°ßÇÏÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ ´Ù½Ã ¶Ç ÀÒÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´ø°¡. ±×³à°¡ ²Þ°ú °°ÀÌ »ç¶óÁ³À» ¶§ Áñ°Å¿î ÇÞºûµµ ±×´ë¿¡°Ô´Â ¾ó¸¶³ª ¾â¹Ì¿î °ÍÀ̾ú´ø°¡. ³ª´Â °¡¾ß ÇÑ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª µÎ·Á¿öÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸®¶ó. ½ÅµéÀÌ Çϴÿ¡¼ ¿ì¸®¸¦ º¸»ìÆì Áֱ⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù. Á˵µ ¾ø´Â ³ª¸¦ Á×ÀÌ´Â ÀÚµéÀÌ¿©, ³»°¡ Á×°í ¾øÀ» ¶§, ±×´ëµéÀÌ ¸öÀ» ¶³ ¶§°¡ ¿Ã °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¹Ù´ÙÀÇ ¿©½Å ³×·¹À̽ºµéÀÌ¿©, ±×´ëµéÀÇ Ã³ºÐ¿¡ ¸öÀ» ¸Ã±â´Â °´À» ¹Þ¾ÆµéÀ̶ó."
ÀÌ·¸°Ô ³ë·¡ ºÎ¸£¸é¼ ±×´Â ±íÀº ¹Ù´Ù ¼ÓÀ¸·Î ¶Ù¾î¿Ã¶ú´Ù. ¹°°áÀº ±×¸¦ µ¤°í ¼öºÎµéÀº Ç×ÇØ¸¦ °è¼ÓÇÏ¸é¼ ÀÌÁ¦ ÀÚ±âµéÀÇ ¹üÇàÀÌ ¹ß°¢µÉ ¿ì·Á°¡ ¾ø´Ù°í »ý°¢Çß´Ù.
|
|
But the strains of his music had drawn round him the
inhabitants of the deep to listen, and Dolphins followed
the ship as if chained by a spell. While he struggled in
the waves, a Dolphin offered him his back, and carried him
mounted thereon safe to shore. At the spot where he
landed, a monument of brass was afterwards erected upon
the rocky shore, to preserve the memory of the event.
When Arion and the dolphin parted, each to his own
element, Arion thus poured forth his thanks:
"Farewell, thou faithful, friendly fish! Would that I
could reward thee; but thou canst not wend with me, nor I
with thee. Companionship we may not have. May Galatea,
queen of the deep, accord thee her favour, and thou, proud
of the burden, draw her chariot over the smooth mirror of
the deep."
|
±×·¯³ª ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀÇ ³ë·¡´Â ±×ÀÇ ÁÖÀ§¿¡ ¹Ù´ÙÀÇ ÁֹεéÀ» À̲ø¾î °æÃ»ÄÉ ÇßÀ¸¸ç, µ¹°í·¡µéÀº ¸¶¼ú¿¡ °É¸° °Éó·³ ¹èÀÇ µÚ¸¦ µû¶ú´Ù. ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀÌ ¹°°á ¼Ó¿¡¼ ¸öºÎ¸²Ä¡°í ÀÖÀ» ¶§, µ¹°í·¡ ÇÑ ¸¶¸®°¡ ±×¸¦ µî À§¿¡ Å¿ì°í ¹«»çÈ÷ ÇØ¾ÈÀ¸·Î ¿î¹ÝÇß´Ù. ÈÄ¿¡ ³ò¼è ±â³äºñ°¡ ÀÌ »ç°ÇÀ» ±â³äÇϱâ À§ÇØ ¹ÙÀ§°¡ ¸¹Àº ÇØ¾È, ±×°¡ »ó·úÇÑ ÁöÁ¡¿¡ ¼¼¿öÁ³´Ù.
¾Æ¸®¿Â°ú µ¹°í·¡°¡ ÀÛº°ÇÏ°í °¢±â ÀÚ±âÀÇ °Åó·Î ÇâÇÒ ¶§ ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº ´ÙÀ½°ú °°À̱׿¡°Ô »çÀǸ¦ Ç¥Çß´Ù.
"Ãæ¼º½º·´°í Ä£ÀýÇÑ °í·¡¿©! ÀÚ, ±×·¯¸é Àß °¡°Å¶ó. ³ª´Â ±×´ëÀÇ ÀºÇý¸¦ °±°í ½Í´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±×´ë´Â ³ª¿Í °°ÀÌ °¥ ¼ö ¾ø°í ³ªµµ ±×´ë¿Í °°ÀÌ °¥ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù. ¿ì¸®´Â Ä£±¸°£ÀÌ µÉ ¼ö´Â ¾øÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ¹Ù´ÙÀÇ ¿©¿Õ °¥¶óÅ×À̾ư¡ ±×´ë¿¡°Ô ÀºÃÑÀ» ³»·ÁÁֽñ⸦! ±×¸®°í ±×´ë´Â ¿©¿ÕÀÌ Åº ÀÌ·ûÂ÷¸¦ ÀDZâ¾ç¾çÇÏ°Ô ²ø¸ç ±¤È°ÇÑ ¹Ù´Ù À§¸¦ ´Þ¸®±â¸¦!"
|
|
Arion hastened from the shore, and soon saw before him
the towers of Corinth. He journeyed on, harp in hand,
singing as he went, full of love and happiness, forgetting
his losses, and mindful only of what remained, his friend
and his lyre. He entered the hospitable halls, and was
soon clasped in the embrace of Periander. "I come
back to thee, my friend," he said. "The talent
which a god bestowed has been the delight of thousands,
but false knaves have stripped me of my well-earned
treasure; yet I retain the consciousness of widespread
fame." Then he told Periander all the wonderful
events that had befallen him, who heard him with
amazement. "Shall such wickedness triumph?" said
he. "Then in vain is power lodged in my hands. That
we may discover the criminals, you must remain here in
concealment, and so they will approach without
suspicion." When the ship arrived in the harbour, he
summoned the mariners before him. "Have you heard
anything of Arion?" he inquired. "I anxiously
look for his return." They replied, "We left him
well and prosperous in Tarentum."
As they said these words, Arion stepped forth and faced
them. His well-proportioned limbs were arrayed in gold and
purple fair to see, his tunic fell around him in graceful
folds, jewels adorned his arms, his brow was crowned with
a golden wreath, and over his neck and shoulders flowed
his hair perfumed with odours; his left hand held the
lyre, his right the ivory wand with which he struck its
chords. They fell prostrate at his feet, as if a lightning
bolt had struck them. "We meant to murder him, and he
has become a god. O Earth, open and receive us!" Then
Periander spoke. "He lives, the master of the lay!
Kind Heaven protects the poet's life. As for you, I invoke
not the spirit of vengeance; Arion wishes not your blood.
Ye slaves of avarice, begone! Seek some barbarous land,
and never may aught beautiful delight your souls!"
|
¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº
ÇØ¾È¿¡¼ °ÉÀ½À» »¡¸® ÇÏ¿© °É¾î°¬´Ù. ¾ó¸¶ °¡Áö
¾Ê¾Æ ´«¾Õ¿¡ ÄÚ¸°Å佺ÀÇ ¿©·¯ žÀ» º¸¾Ò´Ù.
±×´Â °è¼Ó ¿©ÇàÀ» Çß´Ù. ¼Õ¿¡´Â ¸®¶ó¸¦ µé°í ³ë·¡¸¦
ºÎ¸£¸ç °É¾î°¬´Ù. »ç¶û°ú Çູ¿¡ Ãæ¸¸ÇÏ¿© Àçȸ¦
ÀÒÀº °Íµµ ÀØ°í ³²¾Æ ÀÖ´Â °Í, Áï Ä£±¸¿Í ¸®¶ó¸¸À»
»ý°¢Çß´Ù. ±×°¡ ÈĴ븦 ¹Þ´ø ÀúÅÃÀ¸·Î
µé¾î°¡ÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ, Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º´Â ±×¸¦ Æ÷¿ËÇß´Ù.
¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº ¸»Çß´Ù.
"Ä£±¸¿©, ³ª´Â ±×´ë¿¡°Ô·Î ´Ù½Ã µ¹¾Æ¿Ô¼Ò. ½ÅÀÌ
³ª¿¡°Ô ºÎ¿©ÇÑ Àç´ÉÀº õ¸¸ »ç¶÷¿¡°Ô ±â»ÝÀ»
ÁÖ¾úÁö¸¸ ¾ÇÇѵéÀÌ ³»°¡ ¹ø Àçȸ¦ ¾àÅ»ÇÏ¿´¼Ò.
±×·¯³ª ³Î¸® ¸í¼ºÀ» ¾ò¾úÀ¸´Ï ±×·Î½á ÀÚÀ§ÇÏ´Â
¹Ù¿ä."
±×´Â Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º¿¡°Ô ÀڱⰡ ´çÇÑ ³î¶ó¿î »ç°ÇÀ»
¸ðµÎ À̾߱âÇß´Ù. Æä¸®¾Èµå·Î½º´Â À̸¦ µè°í
³î¶ó¸ç ¸»Çß´Ù.
"±×¿Í °°Àº ºÒ¹ýÀÌ ½Â¸®ÇÏ´Ù´Ï µÉ ¸»Àΰ¡! ³ªÀÇ
¼öÁß¿¡ ±Ç·ÂÀÌ ÀÖ´Â ÇÑ ±×·± ºÒ¹ýÀ» ±×´ë·Î ¹¬°úÇÒ
¼ö ¾ø¼Ò. ¹üÀÌÀ» ¹ß°ßÇÒ ¶§±îÁö ±×´ë´Â À̰÷¿¡ ¼û¾î
ÀÖÀ¸½Ã¿À. ±×·¯¸é ±×µéÀº ¾Æ¹« ÀDZ¸½É ¾øÀÌ Á¢±ÙÇÒ
°ÍÀÌ¿À."
¹è°¡ Ç×±¸¿¡ µµÂøÇÏÀÚ, ±×´Â ºÎ¼öµéÀ» ºÒ·¯µé¿´´Ù.
"³ÊÈñµéÀº ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀÇ ¼Ò½ÄÀ» µéÀº ÀÏÀÌ ÀÖ´À³Ä?
³ª´Â ±×ÀÇ ±ÍȯÀ» °ÆÁ¤ÇÏ¸ç ±â´Ù¸®°í ÀÖ´Ù."
±×°¡ ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¹¯ÀÚ ±×µéÀº ´ë´äÇß´Ù.
"ÀúÈñµéÀº Ÿ·»Åù¿¡¼ ±×¿Í ÀÛº°Çߴµ¥ Àß
ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù."
±×µéÀÌ ÀÌ ¸»À» ÇÏÀÚ ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀÌ ±×µé ¾Õ¿¡ ³ªÅ¸³µ´Ù.
±×´Â ±ÕÇü ÀâÈù ¸ö¿¡ º¸±â¿¡µµ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ±Ýºû°ú
ÀÚÁÖºû ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ°í ÀÖ¾úÀ¸¸ç, ¿ô¿ÊÀº ¿ì¹ÌÇÑ ÁÖ¸§À»
ÀÌ·ç¾î¸öÀ» ½Î°í, º¸¼®Àº ÆÈÀ» Àå½ÄÇϰí, À̸¶¿¡´Â
±Ýºû ȰüÀ» ¾²°í ¸ñ°ú ¾î±ú À§¿¡´Â Çâ±â°¡ dz±â´Â
¸Ó¸®Ä®ÀÌ È帣°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ¿Þ¼Õ¿¡´Â ¸®¶ó¸¦ µé°í
¿À¸¥¼Õ¿¡´Â¸®¶óÁÙÀ» Ÿ´Â »ç¾Ó ¸·´ë±â¸¦ µé°í
ÀÖ¾ú´Ù.±×µéÀº ¸¶Ä¡ º¶ôÀ̳ª ¸ÂÀº °Íó·³ ±×ÀÇ
¹ß¹Ø¿¡ ¾þµå·È´Ù.
"¿ì¸®´Â ±×¸¦ Á×ÀÌ·Á°í Çߴµ¥ ±×´Â ½ÅÀÌ
µÇ¾ú´Ù¿À. ´ëÁö¿©, ¿¸®¾î ¿ì¸®¸¦ ¹Þ¾Æ ´Þ¶ó."
±×·¯ÀÚ ÆäÀ̾ȵå·Î½º°¡ ¸»Çß´Ù.
"³ë·¡ÀÇ ´ë°¡ÀÎ ±×´Â »ì¾Æ ÀÖ´Ù. Ä£ÀýÇÑ ÇÏ´ÃÀÌ
½ÃÀÎÀÇ »ý¸íÀ» º¸È£Çß´Ù. ³ª´Â º¹¼öÀÇ ½ÅÀ»
ºÒ·¯³»Áö ¾Ê°Ú´Ù. ¾Æ¸®¿ÂÀº ³ÊÈñµéÀÇ ÇǸ¦ ¿øÇÏÁö
¾Ê´Â´Ù. Ž¿åÀÇ ³ë¿¹µé¾Æ, ¾ø¾îÁö°Å¶ó. ¾ß¸¸ÀÎÀÇ
³ª¶ó·Î °¡°Å¶ó. ±×¸®°í ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¾î¶² °Íµµ
³ÊÈñµéÀÇ Á¤½ÅÀ» Áñ°Ì°Ô ÇÏÁö ¸»±â¸¦ ºô¾î
ÁÖ¸®¶ó!"
|
|
Spenser
represents Arion, mounted on his dolphin, accompanying the
train of Neptune (Poseidon)
and Amphitrite
[image:
29K - Poseidon And Amphritite]:
¡¡
"Then was there heard a most celestial sound
Of dainty music which did next ensue,
And, on the floating waters as enthroned,
Arion with his harp unto him drew
The ears and hearts of all that goodly crew;
Even when as yet the dolphin which him bore
Through the AEgean Seas from pirates' view,
Stood still, by him astonished at his lore,
And all the raging seas for joy forgot to roar."
[see also: The
constellation Delphinus: Myth] - gives popular theory
(see link below)]
[see also: Delphinus
- more thorough and accurate than above link]
Byron,
in his "Childe Harold," Canto II., alludes to
the story of Arion, when, describing his voyage, he
represents one of the seamen making music to entertain the
rest:
¡¡
"The moon is up; by Heaven a lovely eve!
Long streams of light o'er dancing waves expand;
Now lads on shore may sigh and maids believe;
Such be our fate when we return to land!
Meantime some rude Arion's restless hand
Wakes the brisk harmony that sailors love;
A circle there of merry listeners stand,
Or to some well-known measure featly move
Thoughtless as if on shore they still were free to
rove."
|
¡¡
|
|
¡¡
|
¡¡
|
|
IBYCUS
|
À̺ßÄÚ½º
|
|
In order to understand the story of Ibycus which follows
it is necessary to remember, first, that the theatres
of the ancients were immense fabrics capable of
containing from ten to thirty thousand spectators, and as
they were used only on festal occasions, and admission was
free to all, they were usually filled.
|
ÀÌÁ¦ºÎÅÍ ¾ê±âÇÒ À̺ßÄÚ½ºÀÇ À̾߱⸦ ÀÌÇØÇÏ·Á¸é ´ÙÀ½ ¸î °¡Áö¸¦ ±â¾ïÇÒ Çʿ䰡 ÀÖ´Ù. ù°·Î °í´ëÀÇ ±ØÀåÀº 1¸¸ ³»Áö 3¸¸ ¸íÀÇ °ü°´À» ¼ö¿ëÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â Å« °Ç¹°À̾ú´Ù´Â °Í, ±×¸®°í ±ØÀåÀº Á¦Àü ¶§¿¡¸¸ »ç¿ëµÇ°í, ´©±¸³ª ¹«·á·Î ÀÔÀåÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ¾ú±â ¶§¹®¿¡ ´ë°³
¸¸¿øÀ̾ú´Ù.
|
|
|
|
They were without roofs and open to the sky, and the
performances were in the daytime. Secondly, the appalling
representation of the Furies
is not exaggerated in the story. It is recorded that AEschylus,
the tragic poet, having on one occasion represented the Furies
in a chorus of fifty performers, the terror of the
spectators was such that many fainted and were thrown into
convulsions, and the magistrates forbade a like
representation for the future.
[See also: Aeschylus'
The Eumenides]
[See also: Ancient
Theatre - 2500 Years and Going Strong]
|
±×¸®°í ±×°ÍÀº ÁöºØÀÌ ¾ø´Â ³ëõ ±ØÀåÀ¸·Î¼ ÁÖ°£¿¡ ÈïÇàµÇ¾ú°í, º¹¼öÀÇ ¿©½ÅµéÀÇ ¹«¼¿î À̾߱Ⱑ °úÀåµÇ¸é »ó¿¬µÇÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù´Â Á¡ÀÌ´Ù.ÀüÇÏ´Â ¹Ù¿¡ ÀÇÇÏ¸é ºñ±Ø½ÃÀÎ ¾ÆÀ̽ºÄû·Î½º´Â ¾î´À¶§ 50¸íÀ¸·Î ±¸¼ºµÈ ÇÕâ´ÜÀ¸·Î ÇÏ¿©±Ý º¹¼öÀÇ ¿©½ÅÀÇ ¿ªÇÒÀ» ¿¬ÃâÄÉ Çߴµ¥, °ü°´µéÀÌ °øÆ÷¿¡ ¶² ³ª¸ÓÁö ±âÀýÇÏ°í °æ·ÃÀ» ÀÏÀ¸Å² »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¸¹¾Æ ´ç±¹¿¡¼ ÀÌ¿Í °°Àº »ó¿¬À» ±ÝÁöÇß´Ù´Â ±â·ÏÀÌ ³²¾Æ ÀÖ´Ù.
|
|
Ibycus, the pious poet, was on his way to the chariot
races and musical competitions held at the Isthmus of Corinth,
which attracted all of Grecian lineage. Apollo
had bestowed on him the gift of song, the honeyed lips of
the poet, and he pursued his way with lightsome step, full
of the god. Already the towers of Corinth crowning the
height appeared in view, and he had entered with pious awe
the sacred grove of Neptune (Poseidon).
No living object was in sight, only a flock of cranes flew
overhead taking the same course as himself in their
migration to a southern clime. "Good luck to you, ye
friendly squadrons," he exclaimed, "my
companions from across the sea. I take your company for a
good omen. We come from far and fly in search of
hospitality. May both of us meet that kind reception which
shields the stranger guest from harm!"
|
°æ°ÇÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀÎ À̺ßÄÚ½º´Â ±×¸®½ºÀÎÀÇ Àα⸦ ÁýÁßÇÑ ÄÚ¸°Å佺ÀÇ À̽ºÆ®¸ð½º¿¡¼ °ÅÇàµÇ´Â ÀÌ·ûÂ÷ °æÁÖ¿Í À½¾Ç°æ¿¬´ëȸ¿¡ Âü¼®Çϱâ À§ÇØ °¡´Â µµÁßÀ̾ú´Ù. ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀº ±×¿¡°Ô ³ë·¡ÀÇ Àç´É°ú ½ÃÀÎÀÇ ²Ü°ú °°Àº ÀÔ¼úÀ» ºÎ¿©Ç߱⠶§¹®¿¡ ±×´Â °ÉÀ½°ÉÀ̵µ °¡º±°Ô ¾ÆÆú·ÐÀ» »ý°¢ÇÏ¸é¼ °É¾ú´Ù. ¹ú½á ÇϴóôÀÌ ¼ÚÀº ÄÚ¸°Å佺ÀÇ Å¾µéÀÌ ½Ã¾ß¿¡ Àü°³µÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â µÎ·Æ°í °æ°ÇÇÑ ¸¶À½À¸·Î Æ÷¼¼À̵·ÀÇ ¼º½º·¯¿î ½£¼Ó¿¡ µé¾î°¬´Ù. »ý¹°Àº Çϳªµµ ´«¿¡ ¶çÁö ¾Ê°í ¿ÀÁ÷ ÇÑ ¶¼ÀÇ µÎ·ç¹Ì°¡ ³²ÂÊÀ¸·Î ÀÌÁÖÇϱâ À§Çؼ ±×°¡ °¡´Â ¹æÇâ°ú °°Àº ¹æÇâÀ» ÇâÇÏ¿© ¸Ó¸® À§¿¡¼ ³¯°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â ºÎ¸£Â¢¾ú´Ù.
"¹Ù´Ù¸¦ °Ç³Î ¶§ºÎÅÍ ³ªÀÇ ±æµ¿¹«¿´´ø Á¤´Ù¿î ¹«¸®µé¾Æ, ³ÊÈñµé¿¡°Ô Çà¿îÀÌ Àֱ⸦. ³ÊÈñµé°ú °°ÀÌ ¿À¸é¼ºÎÅÍ ¿ì¸®´Â Ä£ÀýÇÑ Á¢´ë¸¦ ±â´ëÇÏ°í ¿Ô´Ù. ³ÊÈñµéÀ̳ª ³ª³ª ¿ÜÁö¿¡¼ ¿Â °´À» º¸È£ÇØÁִ ģÀýÇÑ Á¢´ë¸¦ ¹Þ°Ô µÇ¾úÀ¸¸é!"
|
|
He paced briskly on, and soon was in the middle of the
wood. There suddenly, at a narrow pass, two robbers
stepped forth and barred his way. He must yield or fight.
But his hand, accustomed to the lyre, and not to the
strife of arms, sank powerless. He called for help on men
and gods, but his cry reached no defender's ear.
"Then here must I die," said he, "in a
strange land, unlamented, cut off by the hand of outlaws,
and see none to avenge my, cause." Sore wounded, he
sank to the earth, when hoarse screamed the cranes
overhead. "Take up my cause, ye cranes," he
said, "since no voice but yours answers to my
cry." So saying he closed his eyes in death.
|
±×´Â Ȱ¹ßÈ÷ °ÉÀ½À» ¿Å°å´Ù. ±×¸®°í ¹Ù·Î ½£ ÇѰ¡¿îµ¥¿¡ µµ´ÞÇß´Ù. ±×·¯ÀÚ µ¹¿¬ Á¼Àº ±æ¿¡¼ µÎ ³ðÀÇ °µµ°¡ ³ª¿Í ¾ÕÀ» °¡·Î¸·¾Ò´Ù. ±×´Â Ç׺¹ÇϵçÁö ½Î¿ìÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸é ¾ÈµÇ¾ú´Ù. ¸®¶ó¿¡´Â Àͼ÷ÇßÀ¸³ª ¹«±â¸¦ °¡Áö°í ½Î¿ì´Â µ¥´Â Àͼ÷ÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀº ±×ÀÇ ¼ÕÀº Èû¾øÀÌ ÃÄÁ³´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±×ÀÇ ºÎ¸£Â¢À½À» µé¾î µµ¿Í ÁÖ´Â ÀÚ´Â Çϳªµµ ³ªÅ¸³ªÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù. ±×´Â ¸»Çß´Ù.
"À̰÷¿¡¼ ³ª´Â Á״±¸³ª. ÀÌ¿ª¿¡¼ ¾ÇÇÑÀÇ ¼Õ¿¡ Á״±¸³ª. ºñźÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µµ ¾ø°í ¿ø¼ö¸¦ °±¾ÆÁÖ´Â »ç¶÷µµ ¾øÀÌ!"
½ÉÇÑ ºÎ»óÀ» ÀÔ°í ±×°¡ ¶¥ À§¿¡ ¾²·¯ÁöÀÚ, °øÁß¿¡¼ µÎ·ç¹ÌµéÀÌ ¸ñ½® ¼Ò¸®·Î ºÎ¸£Â¢°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×´Â ¸»Çß´Ù.
"µÎ·ç¹Ìµé¾Æ, ³ªÀÇ ¿ø¼ö¸¦ °±¾Æ´Ù¿À. ³ÊÈñµé ¼Ò¸® ¿Ü¿¡´Â ³ªÀÇ ºÎ¸£Â¢À½¿¡ ´äÇÏ´Â ¼Ò¸®°¡ ¾ø±¸³ª."
±×´Â ÀÌ·¸°Ô ¸»Çϸç Á׾´Ù.
|
|
The body, despoiled and mangled, was found, and though
disfigured with wounds, was recognized by the friend in
Corinth who had expected him as a guest. "Is it thus
I find you restored to me?" he exclaimed. "I who
hoped to entwine your temples with the wreath of triumph
in the strife of song!"
The guests assembled at the festival heard the tidings
with dismay. All Greece felt the wound, every heart owned
its loss. They crowded round the tribunal of the
magistrates, and demanded vengeance on the murderers and
expiation with their blood.
|
±×ÀÇ ½Ãü´Â óÂüÇÑ ÇüÅ·Π¹ß°ßµÇ¾ú´Ù. ºñ·Ï ºÎ»óÀ» ÀÔ¾î ÇüÆí¾øÀÌ µÇ¾úÀ¸³ª, ±×¸¦ °´À¸·Î ±â´Ù¸®°í ÀÖ´ø ÄÚ¸°Å佺ÀÇ Ä£±¸´Â ±×°ÍÀÌ À̺ßÄÚ½º¶ó´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë¾Æº¸¾Ò´Ù. ±×¸®ÇÏ¿© ±×´Â ºÎ¸£Â¢¾ú´Ù.
"ÀÌ·± ¸ð¾çÀ¸·Î ³Ê¸¦ ´ëÇÒ ÁÙÀ̾ß! ³ª´Â ³×°¡ ³ë·¡°æ¿¬´ëȸÀÇ ½Â¸®ÀÇ È°üÀ¸·Î ³ÊÀÇ À̸¶¸¦ Àå½ÄÇϱ⸦ ¹Ù¶ú´Âµ¥!"
Á¦Àü¿¡ ¸ð¿©µç °´µéÀº ÀÌ ¼Ò½ÄÀ» µè°í ³î¶ú´Ù. Àü±×¸®½º°¡ ÇÇÇØ¸¦ ÀÔ°í, ¼Õ½ÇÀ» ÀÔ¾ú´Ù°í ÇÑźÇß´Ù. ±×µéÀº ¹ýÁ¤ ÁÖÀ§¿¡ ¸ð¿© »ìÀÎÀÚ¿¡°Ô º¹¼ö¸¦ ÇÏ°í ±×µéÀÇ ÇÇ·Î½á º¸»óÇÒ °ÍÀ» ¿ä±¸Çß´Ù.
|
|
But what trace or mark shall point out the perpetrator
from amidst the vast multitude attracted by the splendour
of the feast? Did he fall by the hands of robbers or did
some private enemy slay him? The all-discerning sun alone
can tell, for no other eye beheld it. Yet not improbably
the murderer even now walks in the midst of the throng,
and enjoys the fruits of his crime, while vengeance seeks
for him in vain. Perhaps in their own temple's enclosure
he defies the gods, mingling freely in this throng of men
that now presses into the amphitheatre.
For now crowded together, row on row, the multitude
fills the seats till it seems as if the very fabric would
give way. The murmur of voices sounds like the roar of the
sea, while the circles widening in their ascent rise tier
on tier, as if they would reach the sky.
|
±×·¯³ª ¼º´ëÇÑ Á¦ÀüÀ» º¸·¯ ¸ð¿©µç ¸¹Àº ±ºÁß ¼Ó¿¡¼ ¹«¾ùÀ» Áõ°Å·Î »ìÀÎÀÚ¸¦ ½Äº°ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖÀ»±î? ±×´Â °µµÀÇ ¼Õ¿¡ Âñ·Á Á×Àº °ÍÀϱî, ¾Æ´Ï¸é »çÀû ¿øÇÑÀ» °¡Áø ÀûÀÇ ¼Õ¿¡ Âñ·Á Á×Àº °ÍÀϱî? ±×°ÍÀ» ¾Ë°í ÀÖ´Â °ÍÀº ¸ðµç °ÍÀ» ³»·Á´Ùº¸´Â žçÀÇ ½Å»ÓÀ̾ú´Ù. ¿Ö³ÄÇÏ¸é ±×¹ÛÀÇ ´Ù¸¥ ´©±¸µµ ±×°ÍÀ» º» »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¾ø±â ¶§¹®¿¡. ±×·¯³ª ÇêµÇÀÌ º¹¼ö¸¦ ¹Ù¶ó°í ÀÖ´Â ÀÌ ¼ø°£¿¡µµ »ìÀÎÀÚ´Â ±ºÁß »çÀÌ¿¡¼ °É¾î´Ù´Ï°í ÀÖÀ» °ÍÀ̸ç, ±×ÀÇ ¹üÁË ¼º°ú¸¦ ±â»µÇϰí ÀÖÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×´Â ¾Æ¸¶ ½ÅÀü ³»¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ¿øÇü±ØÀå¿¡ ¸ð¿©µé°í ÀÖ´Â ±ºÁß »çÀÌ¿¡ ¼¯¿©¼ ½ÅµéÀ» ¸ê½ÃÇϰí ÀÖÀ»Áöµµ ¸ð¸¦ ÀÏÀÌ´Ù.
ÀÌÁ¦ ±ºÁßµéÀº ¿À» Áö¾î Á¼®À» ¸Þ¿ö °Ç¹°ÀÌ ÅÍÁú °Í °°¾Ò´Ù. ¿øÇüÀ¸·Î µÈ ÃþÃþ´ëÀÇ Á¼®Àº Çϴÿ¡ ´êÀ» °Í°°ÀÌ À§·Î Ä¡¼Ú¾Æ¿Ã¶ó°¡°í, À§·Î ¿Ã¶ó°¥¼ö·Ï ¿øÀº ³Ð¾îÁö°í, °ü°´µéÀÇ ¶°µå´Â ¼Ò¸®´Â ¹Ù´ÙÀÇ Æ÷ȿó·³ µé·È´Ù.
|
|
And now the vast assemblage listens to the awful voice
of the chorus personating the Furies,
which in solemn guise advances with measured step, and
moves around the circuit of the theatre. Can they be
mortal women who compose that awful group, and can that
vast concourse of silent forms be living beings? |
|
ÀÌÀ¹°í ¸¹Àº ±ºÁßµéÀº º¹¼öÀÇ ¿©½ÅÀÇ ¿ªÇÒÀ» ÇÏ´Â ÇÕâ´ëÀÇ ¹«¼¿î ¼Ò¸®¸¦ °æÃ»Çϰí ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ÇÕâ´ë´Â Àå¾öÇÑ ÀÇ»óÀ» °ÉÄ¡°í º¸Á¶¸¦ ¸ÂÃß¸ç ¹«´ë ÁÖÀ§¸¦ µ¹°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ÀÌ·± ¹«¼¿î ÀÏ´ÜÀ» ±¸¼ºÇϰí ÀÖ´Â ÇÕâ´ë´Â °ú¿¬ ÀÌ ¼¼»óÀÇ ¿©ÀÚµéÀϱî? ±×¸®°í ÀÌó·³ ¼÷¿¬ÇØÁø ´ë±ºÁßÀº °ú¿¬ »ì¾Æ ÀÖ´Â Àΰ£µéÀϱî? |
|
|
The choristers, clad in black, bore in their fleshless
hands torches blazing with a pitchy flame. Their cheeks
were bloodless, and in place of hair writhing and swelling
serpents curled around their brows. Forming a circle,
these awful beings sang their hymns, rending the hearts of
the guilty, and enchaining all their faculties. It rose
and swelled, overpowering the sound of the instruments,
stealing the judgment, palsying the heart, curdling the
blood.
|
ÇÕâ´ë¿øµéÀº °ËÀº ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔ°í ¿©À© ¼Õ¿¡´Â ½Ã»¹°Ó°Ô Ÿ¿À¸£´Â ȶºÒÀ» µé°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±×µéÀÇ º¼Àº ÇͱⰡ ¾ø°í, À̸¶ ÁÖÀ§¿¡´Â ¸Ó¸®Ä® ´ë½Å¿¡ ¼º³ ¹ìÀÌ ÈÖ°¨°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ÀÌ·± ¹«¼¿î »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¿øÀ» ±×¸®¸é¼ ¼º°¡¸¦ ºÎ¸£°í ÀÖ¾ú´Ù. ±× ³ë·¡´Â ÁËÀÖ´Â ÀÚµéÀÇ ½ÉÀåÀ» Âõ°í, ±×µéÀÇ ¸ðµç ´É·ÂÀ» ¸¶ºñ½ÃÄ×´Ù. ³ë·§¼Ò¸®´Â À§·Î ¿Ã¶ó°¡ ÆÛÁ® ¾Ç±â¼Ò¸®¸¦ ¾ÐµµÇϰí, ÆÇ´Ü·ÂÀ» ¹ÚÅ»ÇÏ°í ½ÉÀåÀ» ¸¶ºñ½Ã۰í Ç÷¾×À» ÀÀ°á½ÃÄ×´Ù.
|
|
"Happy the man who keeps his heart pure from guilt
and crime! Him we avengers touch not; he treads the path
of life secure from us. But woe! woe! to him who has done
the deed of secret murder. We, the fearful family of Night,
fasten ourselves upon his whole being. Thinks he by flight
to escape us? We fly still faster in pursuit, twine our
snakes around his feet, and bring him to the ground.
Unwearied we pursue; no pity checks our course; still on
and on, to the end of life, we give him no peace nor
rest." Thus the Eumenides
sang, and moved in solemn cadence, while stillness like
the stillness of death sat over the whole assembly as if
in the presence of superhuman beings; and then in solemn
march completing the circuit of the theatre, they passed
out at the back of the stage.
|
"¸¶À½ÀÌ Á¤°áÇϰí Á˾ø´Â ÀÚ´Â ÇູÇÒÁö¾î´Ù! ¿ì¸®µé º¹¼öÀÚ´Â ±×µé¿¡°Ô ¼ÕÀ»
´ëÁö ¾ÊÀ¸·Á´Ï, ±×·¯³ª ³²¸ô·¡ »ìÀÎÀ» ÇÑ ÀÚ´Â ºÒÇàÇÒÁö¾î´Ù. ¿ì¸®µé <¹ã>ÀÇ ¹«¼¿î µ¿Á·µéÀº ±×ÀÇ ¸öÀ» ³ë¸®°í ÀÖ´Ù. ±×·± ÀÚ°¡ ¿ì¸®¸¦ ÇÇÇÒ ¼ö Àְڴ°¡? ¿ì¸®´Â ±×¸¦ Ãß°ÝÇÏ¿© ´õ »¡¸® ³¯À¸¸®¶ó. ¿ì¸®ÀÇ ¹ìµéÀ» ±×ÀÇ ¹ß¿¡ °¨±â°Ô Çϸ®¶ó. ±×¸®°í ¶¥ À§¿¡ ³Ñ¾î¶ß¸®¸®¶ó. ²ö±âÀÖ´Â ¿ì¸®´Â Ãß°ÝÇϸ®¶ó. ¾Æ¹«·± µ¿Á¤½Éµµ ¿ì¸®°¡ °¡´Â ±æÀ» ¸·Áö ¸øÇϸ®¶ó. Á×À» ¶§±îÁö Ãß°Ý ¶Ç Ãß°ÝÇÏ¿©, ±×¿¡°Ô ¾ÈÁ¤µµ È޽ĵµ ÁÖÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸®¶ó."
º¹¼öÀÇ ¿©½ÅµéÀº À̰°ÀÌ ³ë·¡¸¦ ºÎ¸£¸ç Àå¾öÇÑ ¿îÀ²·Î ÃãÀ» Ãß¾ú´Ù. ±×·¯ÀÚ Àΰ£ ÀÌ»óÀÇ °ÍÀ» ´ëÇϰí ÀÖ´Â °Íó·³ Á×À½°ú Àû¸·ÀÌ ¿Â ±ØÀå ¾ÈÀ» Áö¹èÇÏ¿´´Ù. ¸¶Ä§³» ±×µéÀº Àå¾öÇÑ º¸Á¶·Î ¹«´ë¸¦ ÇÑ ¹ÙÄû µ¹°í´Â ±×´ë·Î µÚÂÊÀ¸·Î »ç¶óÁ³´Ù.
|
|
Every heart fluttered between illusion and reality, and
every breast panted with undefined terror, quailing before
the awful power that watches secret crimes and winds
unseen the skein of destiny. At that moment a cry burst
forth from one of the uppermost benches- "Look! look!
comrade, yonder are the cranes of Ibycus!" And
suddenly there appeared sailing across the sky a dark
object which a moment's inspection showed to be a flock of
cranes flying directly over the theatre. "Of Ibycus!
did he say?" The beloved name revived the sorrow in
every breast. As wave follows wave over the face of the
sea, so ran from mouth to mouth the words, "Of
Ibycus! him whom we all lament, whom some murderer's hand
laid low! What have the cranes to do with him?" And
louder grew the swell of voices, while like a lightning's
flash the thought sped through every heart, "Observe
the power of the Eumenides! The pious poet shall be
avenged! the murderer has informed against himself. Seize
the man who uttered that cry and the other to whom he
spoke!"
The culprit would gladly have recalled his words, but
it was too late. The faces of the murderers, pale with
terror, betrayed their guilt. The people took them before
the judge, they confessed their crime, and suffered the
punishment they deserved.
|
»ç¶÷µéÀÇ ½ÉÀåÀº ȯ»ó°ú ½Çü »çÀÌ¿¡¼ °íµ¿ÃÆÀ¸¸ç, ¸ðµç °¡½¿Àº Çü¾ðÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â °øÆ÷·Î µÎ±Ù°Å·È°í, ºñ¹ÐÀÇ ¹üÁ˸¦ °¨½ÃÇÏ°í ¿î¸íÀÇ ½ÇŸ·¡¸¦ º¸ÀÌÁö ¾Ê°Ô °¨°í ÀÖ´Â ¹«¼¿î Èû ¾Õ¿¡¼ ¶³¾ú´Ù. ±× ¼ø°£ Á¦ÀÏ À§ÂÊ¿¡ ÀÖ´Â Á¼®À¸·ÎºÎÅÍ ºÎ¸£Â¢´Â ¼Ò¸®°¡ µé·È´Ù.
"º¸¶ó! º¸¶ó! Ä£±¸¾ß, Àú±â À̺ßÄÚ½ºÀÇ µÎ·ç¹ÌµéÀÌ ÀÖ´Ù."
±×·¯ÀÚ °©Àڱ⠰øÁßÀ» °¡·ÎÁú·¯ °ËÀº ¹°Ã¼°¡ ³ªÅ¸³µ´Âµ¥, ±×°ÍÀº ¾ð¶æ º¸¾Æµµ ±ØÀåÀÇ ¹Ù·Î À§¸¦ ³¯°í ÀÖ´Â µÎ·ç¹Ì¶¼ÀÓÀÌ ºÐ¸íÇß´Ù.
"¹«¾î¶ó°í? À̺ßÄÚ½º¶ó°í?"
ÀÌ »ç¶û½º·¯¿î À̸§Àº ¸ðµç °¡½¿ ¼Ó¿¡ ½½ÇÄÀ» ¼Ò»ý½ÃÄ×´Ù. ¹Ù´Ù À§¿¡ ¹°°áÀÌ ¿¬´Þ¾Æ ÀϾµíÀÌ ÀÔÀ¸·ÎºÎÅÍ "À̺ßÄÚ½º, ¿ì¸®°¡ ´Ù ½½ÆÛÇϰí ÀÖ´Â ±× »ç¶÷, ¾î¶² »ìÀÎÀÚÀÇ ¼Õ¿¡ °É·Á Á×Àº ±× »ç¶÷, µÎ·ç¹Ì¿Í ±× »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¹«½¼ °ü°è°¡ ÀÖÀ»±î? " ÇÏ´Â ¸»ÀÌ µé·Á¿Ô´Ù.
¸»¼Ò¸®°¡ Á¡Á¡ ³ô¾ÆÁöÀÚ Àü±¤°ú °°ÀÌ ¸ðµç »ç¶÷µéÀÇ ½ÉÁß¿¡ ¶°¿À¸£´Â »ý°¢ÀÌ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù.
"º¹¼öÀÇ ½ÅÀÇ ÈûÀÌ´Ù. Àú °æ°ÇÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀÇ ¿ø¼ö¸¦ °±¾Æ¾ß ÇÑ´Ù! »ìÀÎÀÚ´Â ÀÚ½ÅÀ» °í¹ßÇß´Ù. óÀ½¿¡ ºÎ¸£Â¢Àº ÀÚ¿Í ±× ÀÚ°¡ ¸»À» °Ç »ó´ëÀÚ¸¦ Àâ¾Æ¶ó."
¹üÀÎÀº ÇÒ ¼ö¸¸ ÀÖ¾ú´Ù¸é ÀÚ±âÀÇ ¸»À» Ãë¼ÒÇÏ°í ½Í¾úÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ¶§´Â ÀÌ¹Ì ´Ê¾ú´Ù. »ìÀÎÀÚµéÀÇ ¾ó±¼Àº °øÆ÷·Î â¹éÇØÁ®¼ ±×µéÀÇ Á˸¦ Æø·ÎÇÏ¿´´Ù.
|
|
SIMONIDES
|
½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º |
|
Simonides
was one of the most prolific of the early poets of Greece,
but only a few fragments of his compositions have
descended to us. He wrote hymns, triumphal odes, and
elegies. In the last species of composition he
particularly excelled. His genius was inclined to the
pathetic, and none could touch with truer effect the
chords of human sympathy. The "Lamentation of
Danae," the most important of the fragments which
remain of his poetry, is based upon the tradition that Danae
and her infant son were confined by order of her father,
Acrisius, in a chest and set adrift on the sea. The chest
floated towards the island of Seriphus,
where both were rescued by Dictys, a fisherman, and
carried to Polydectes, king of the country, who received
and protected them. The child, Perseus, when grown up
became a famous hero, whose adventures have been recorded
in a previous chapter. |
½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º´Â ±×¸®½ºÀÇ Ãʱ⠽ÃÀεé Áß¿¡¼ °¡Àå ½Ã¸¦ ¸¹ÀÌ ¹ßÇ¥ÇÑ »ç¶÷À̾úÀ¸³ª ¿À´Ã³¯ ±× ÀÛǰ Áß¿¡¼ ¸î °³ÀÇ ´ÜÆí¸¸ÀÌ ÀüÇØÁö°í ÀÖÀ» »ÓÀÌ´Ù. ±×°¡ ¾´ °ÍÀ¸·Î Âù°¡, ¼Û°¡, ºñ°¡°¡ ÀÖ´Ù. ±×Áß¿¡ ±×´Â ƯÈ÷ ºñ°¡¿¡ ÀÖ¾î¼ ¿ì¼öÇß´Ù. ±×´Â °¨µ¿ÀûÀÎ ½ÃÀÛ¿¡ ´ÉÇßÀ¸¸ç, Àΰ£ÀÇ ½É±ÝÀ» ¿ï¸®´Â µ¥ ±×º¸´Ù ´õ Áø½ÇÇÑ È¿°ú¸¦ °ÅµÐ »ç¶÷Àº ¾ø¾ú´Ù. ´Ù³ª¿¡ÀÇ ºñźÀº ±×ÀÇ ÇöÁ¸ÇÏ´Â ½ÃÀÇ ´ÜÆí Áß¿¡¼ °¡Àå Áß¿äÇÑ °ÍÀε¥, ±×°ÍÀº ´Ù³ª¿¡¿Í ±×ÀÇ À¯¾Æ°¡ ºÎÄ£ ¾ÆÅ©¸®½Ã¿ÀÀÇ ¸í·É¿¡ ÀÇÇÏ¿© »óÀÚ ¼Ó¿¡ °¤Çô¼ ¹Ù´Ù¿¡ ¶ç¿öÁ³´Ù´Â Àü¼³¿¡¼ ÃëÀçÇÑ °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. »óÀÚ´Â ¼¼¸®Æ÷½º ¼¶¿¡ Ç¥·ùÇÏ¿© ±×°÷¿¡¼ ¾îºÎ µñÆ¢½º°¡ µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÇ »ý¸íÀ» ±¸ÇÏ¿© ±× ³ª¶óÀÇ ¿Õ Æú·òµ¦Å×½º¿¡°Ô µ¥¸®°í °¬´Âµ¥, ¿ÕÀº ±×µéÀ» ¹Þ¾Æµé¿© º¸È£ÇØ ÁÖ¾ú´Ù. ¾Æµé Æä¸£¼¼¿ì½º´Â ¼ºÀåÇÏÀÚ À¯¸íÇÑ ¿µ¿õÀÌ µÇ¾ú´Âµ¥, ±×ÀÇ ¸ðÇè´ãÀº ¾ÕÀå(Á¦15Àå)¿¡ ±â·ÏµÈ ¹Ù¿Í °°´Ù. |
|
Simonides
passed much of his life at the courts of princes, and
often employed his talents in panegyric and festal odes,
receiving his reward from the munificence of those whose
exploits he celebrated. This employment was not
derogatory, but closely resembles that of the earliest
bards, such as Demodocus, described
by Homer, or of Homer himself, as recorded by
tradition. |
½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º´Â ±×ÀÇ »ý¾ÖÀÇ ´ëºÎºÐÀ» ¿Õ°øµéÀÇ ±ÃÁ¤¿¡¼ º¸³Â´Ù. Á¾Á¾ ¼Û°¡¿Í Ãà°¡¸¦ ºÎŹ¹Þ¾Æ Áö¾ú´Âµ¥ ±×µéÀÇ °øÀûÀ» ±×ÀÇ ½Ã·Î À¼Àº ¿Õ°øµé·ÎºÎÅÍ ÈÄÇÑ »ç·Ê¸¦ ¹Þ¾Ò´Ù. ÀÌ¿Í °°ÀÌ ºÎŹÀ» ¹Þ¾Æ ½Ã¸¦ Áþ°í ±× º¸¼ö¸¦ ¹Þ´Â´Ù´Â °ÍÀº ±×¸® ºÒ¸í¿¹½º·¯¿î ÀÏÀº ¾Æ´Ï´Ù. ¿¾³¯ ½ÃÀεé, ¿¹ÄÁ´ë È£¸Þ·Î½º°¡ ±â·ÏÇϰí ÀÖ´Â µ¥¸ðµµÄÚ½º¶óµçÁö ¶Ç Àü¼³¿¡ ÀÇÇϸé È£¸Þ·Î½º ÀڽűîÁöµµ ÀÌ¿Í ºñ½ÁÇÑ ÀÏÀ» Çß´ø °ÍÀÌ´Ù. |
|
On one occasion, when residing at the court of Scopas,
king of Thessaly,
the prince desired him to prepare a poem in celebration of
his exploits, to be recited at a banquet. In order to
diversify his theme, Simonides, who was celebrated for his
piety, introduced into his poem the exploits of Castor
and Pollux. Such digressions were not unusual with the
poets on similar occasions, and one might suppose an
ordinary mortal might have been content to share the
praises of the sons of Leda.
But vanity is exacting; and as Scopas sat at his festal
board among his courtiers and sycophants, he grudged every
verse that did not rehearse his own praises. When
Simonides approached to receive the promised reward Scopas
bestowed but half the expected sum, saying, "Here is
payment for my portion of thy performance; Castor and
Pollux will doubtless compensate thee for so much as
relates to them." The disconcerted poet returned to
his seat amidst the laughter which followed the great
man's jest. In a little time he received a message that
two young men on horseback were waiting without and
anxious to see him. Simonides hastened to the door, but
looked in vain for the visitors. Scarcely, however, had he
left the banqueting hall when the roof fell in with a loud
crash, burying Scopas and all his guests beneath the
ruins. On inquiring as to the appearance of the young men
who had sent for him, Simonides was satisfied that they
were no other than Castor and Pollux themselves.
[See also: Mnemotechniques]
[See also: Mary
Renault's The Praise Singer (historical novel)] |
¾î´À ¶§ ½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º°¡ Åݻ츮¾ÆÀÇ ¿Õ ½ºÄÚÆÄ½ºÀÇ ±ÃÁ¤¿¡ ¸Ó¹°°í ÀÖÀ» ¶§ ¿ÕÀº ÁÖ¿¬ ¼®»ó¿¡¼ ³¶µ¶½Ã۱â À§ÇÏ¿© ÀÚ±âÀÇ °øÀûÀ» Âù¹ÌÇÑ ½Ã¸¦ Áö¾î´Þ¶ó°í ±×¿¡°Ô ºÎŹÇß´Ù. °æ°ÇÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀ¸·Î ³Î¸® ¾Ë·ÁÁ® ÀÖ´Â ½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º´Â ½ÃÀÇ Á¦À縦 ´Ùä·Ó°Ô Çϱâ À§ÇÏ¿© ±×ÀÇ ½Ã¿¡ Ä«½ºÅ丣¿Í Æú¸®µ¥¿ìÄɽºÀÇ °øÈÆÀ» ÀοëÇß´Ù. ÀÌ¿Í °°Àº ¼ö¹ýÀº ´Ù¸¥ ½ÃÀεéÀÌ °°Àº ½Ã¸¦ ÁöÀ» °æ¿ì¿¡´Â º°·Î ÀÌ»óÇÑ °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¾ú´Ù. °Ô´Ù°¡ º¸Åë »ç¶÷ °°À¸¸é ÀڱⰡ ·¹´ÙÀÇ ¾Æµé°ú °°ÀÌ Âù»ç¸¦ ¹ÞÀº °ÍÀ» ¸¸Á·½º·´°Ô »ý°¢ÇßÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù. ±×·¯³ª Ç㿵½ÉÀº ÇÑÀÌ ¾ø´Â °ÍÀ¸·Î¼ ½ºÄÚÆÄ½º´Â Á¶½Åµé°ú ¾ÆºÎÇÏ´Â ÀÚµé °¡¿îµ¥¼ Ç⿬ÀÇ ½ÄŹ¿¡ ¾É¾Æ ÀÖÀ» ¶§ ÀÚ±â ÀÚ½ÅÀ» Âù¹ÌÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀº ½ÃÇàÀº ´Ù ºÒ¸¸½º·´°Ô »ý°¢Çß´Ù. ½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º°¡ ¾à¼ÓÇÑ º¸¼ö¸¦ ¹ÞÀ¸·Á°í ¾ÕÀ¸·Î ³ª¿ÔÀ» ¶§ ½ºÄÚÆÄ½º´Â ´ÙÀ½°ú °°ÀÌ ¸»ÇÏ¸é¼ ±× ¹Ý¾×¹Û¿¡´Â ÁÖÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù.
"³ÊÀÇ ³ë·¡¿¡ ´ëÇÏ¿© ³» ¸ò¸¸ ÁöºÒÇϰڴÙ. ³ª¸ÓÁö´Â Ä«½ºÅ丣¿Í Æú¸®µ¥¿ìÄɽº°¡ ÁöºÒÇÒ °ÍÀÌ´Ù."
´çȲÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀº ¿ÕÀÇ Á¶·Õ¿¡ µÚÀÌÀº ¿ôÀ½ ¼Ó¿¡¼ ÀÚ±âÀÇ ÀÚ¸®·Î µ¹¾Æ¿Ô´Ù. Àá½Ã ÈÄ¿¡ ±×´Â ¸»À» ź µÎ ÀþÀºÀ̰¡ ¹Û¿¡¼ ±×¸¦ ¸¸³ª°íÀÚ ±â´Ù¸®°í ÀÖ´Ù´Â Àü¾ðÀ» ¹Þ¾Ò´Ù. ½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º´Â ¹® ¹ÛÀ¸·Î ³ª°¡ º¸¾ÒÀ¸³ª ¾Æ¹«µµ Àڱ⸦ ã´Â ÀÚ¸¦ ¹ß°ßÇÏÁö ¸øÇß´Ù. ±×·¯³ª ±×°¡ ¿¬È¸ÀåÀ» ¶°³ªÀÚ¸¶ÀÚ ÁöºØÀÌ Å«¼Ò¸®¸¦ ³»¸ç ¹«³ÊÁ®³»·Á ½ºÄÚÆÄ½º¿Í ±×ÀÇ ¸ðµç °´µéÀº ±× ¹Ø¿¡ ¸Å¸ôµÇ¾ú´Ù. ±×¸¦ ºÎ¸£°Ô ÇÑ ÀþÀºÀÌ´Â ´ëü ´©±¸¿´À»±î, ÇÏ°í »ý°¢ÇÑ ½Ã¸ð´Ïµ¥½º´Â ¹Ù·Î ±×°ÍÀÌ ´Ù¸§¾Æ´Ñ Ä«½ºÅ丣¿Í Æú¸®µ¥¿ìÄɽº µÎ »ç¶÷À̶ó°í È®½ÅÇß´Ù. |
|
¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
SAPPHO
|
»çÆ÷ |
|
Sappho
was a poetess who flourished in a very early age of Greek
literature. Of her works few fragments remain, but they
are enough to establish her claim to eminent poetical
genius. The story of Sappho commonly alluded to is that
she was passionately in love with a beautiful youth named
Phaon, and failing to obtain a return of affection she
threw herself from the promontory of Leucadia into the
sea, under a superstition that those who should take that
"Lover's-leap" would, if not destroyed, be cured
of their love.
|
 |
»çÆ÷´Â ±×¸®½º ¹®ÇÐÀÇ °¡Àå Ãʱ⿡ Ȱ¾àÇß´ø ¿©·ù½ÃÀÎÀÌ´Ù. ±×³àÀÇ ÀúÀÛ Áß¿¡¼ ÇöÁ¸ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ¸î °³ÀÇ ´ÜÆí¹Û¿¡ ¾ø´Âµ¥, ±×°Í¸¸À¸·Îµµ ±×³à°¡ ¿ì¼öÇÑ ÃµÀç ½ÃÀÎÀÓÀ» ÀÔÁõÇϱ⿡ ÃæºÐÇÏ´Ù. »çÆ÷, ÇÏ¸é º¸Åë »ý°¢³ª´Â À̾߱⿡ ´ÙÀ½°ú °°Àº °ÍÀÌ ÀÖ´Ù. ±×³à´Â ÆÄ¿ÂÀ̶ó´Â ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î û³âÀ» ¿·ÄÈ÷ »ç¶ûÇßÀ¸³ª ±×ÀÇ »ç¶ûÀ» ¹ÞÁö ¸øÇÏ¿© ±× ¶§¹®¿¡ ·¹¿ìÄ«µð¾Æ ¹ÙÀ§ À§¿¡¼ ¹Ù´Ù¿¡ ¸öÀ» ´øÁ³´Âµ¥, ±×°ÍÀº Àú <»ç¶ûÀÇ Åõ½Å>À» ÇÏ´Â ÀÚ´Â Á×Áö¸¸ ¾ÊÀ¸¸é ±× »ç¶ûÀÌ Ä¡À¯µÈ´Ù´Â ¹Ì½Å¿¡ ¿¬À¯ÇÑ °ÍÀ̾ú´Ù. |
|
|
Byron
alludes to the story of Sappho in "Childe
Harold," Canto II.:
¡¡
"Childe Harold sailed and passed the barren spot
Where sad Penelope o'erlooked the wave,
And onward viewed the mount, not yet forgot,
The lover's refuge and the Lesbian's grave.
Dark Sappho! could not verse immortal save
That breast imbued with such immortal fire?
"'Twas on a Grecian autumn's gentle eve
Childe Harold hailed Leucadia's cape afar; etc.
Those who wish to know more of Sappho and her
"leap" are referred to the
"Spectator," Nos. 223 and 229. See also Moore's
"Evenings in Greece."
|
¡¡ |
|
Back to Chapter XXIV
On to Chapter XXVI |
| ¡¡ |
|
|
¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
¡¡ |
¡¡ |
|
¡¡THOMAS BULFINCH
¡¡
|
|
|
|
¡¡ |