Contempt

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Decameron (1353)

  Gulfardo, hearing this and indignant at the sordidness of her whom he had accounted a lady of worth, was like to exchange his fervent love for hatred and thinking to cheat her, sent back to her, saying that he would very willingly do this and all else in his power that might please her and that therefore she should e'en send him word when she would have him go to her, for that he would carry her the money, nor should any ever hear aught of the matter, save a comrade of his in whom he trusted greatly and who still bore him company in whatsoever he did. The lady, or rather, I should say, the vile woman, hearing this, was well pleased and sent to him, saying that Guasparruolo her husband was to go to Genoa for his occasions a few days hence and that she would presently let him know of this and send for him. Meanwhile, Gulfardo, taking his opportunity, repaired to Guasparruolo and said to him, 'I have present occasion for two hundred gold florins, the which I would have thee lend me at that same usance whereat thou art wont to lend me other monies.' The other replied that he would well and straightway counted out to him the money. A few days thereafterward Guasparruolo went to Genoa, even as the lady had said, whereupon she sent to Gulfardo to come to her and bring the two hundred gold florins. Accordingly, he took his comrade and repaired to the lady's house, where finding her expecting him, the first thing he did was to put into her hands the two hundred gold florins, in his friend's presence, saying to her, 'Madam, take these monies and give them to your husband, whenas he shall be returned.' The lady took them, never guessing why he said thus, but supposing that he did it so his comrade should not perceive that he gave them to her by way of price, and answered, 'With all my heart; but I would fain see how many they are.' Accordingly, she turned them out upon the table and finding them full two hundred, laid them up, mighty content in herself; then, returning to Gulfardo and carrying him into her chamber, she satisfied him of her person not that night only, but many others before her husband returned from Genoa.

• From Another Country (1962)

  But I kept imagining that you would come back to see us, and you never have.” “Oh, but I will. You’ll be seeing much more of me, dear lady, than you have the courage to imagine.” He turned to the table. “Let me introduce you all.” He gestured toward the dark couple. “Here are Mr. and Mrs. Barry—Mrs. Silenski.” He bowed ironically in Ida’s direction. “Miss Scott.” Ida responded to this bow with an ironical half-curtsey. Mr. Barry rose and shook their hands. He wore a small mustache over narrow lips; and he smiled a tentative smile which did not quite mask his patient wonder as to who they were. His wife looked like a retired showgirl. She glittered and gleamed, and she was one of those women who always seem to be dying to get home and take off their cruel and intricate and invisible lacings. Her red lower lip swooped or buckled down over her chin when she smiled, which was always. The other couple were named Nash. The male was red-faced, gray-haired, heavy, with a large cigar and a self-satisfied laugh; he was much older than his wife, who was pale, blonde and thin, and wore bangs. Ida and Cass were distributed around the table, Ida next to Ellis, Cass next to Mrs. Barry. They ordered drinks. “Miss Scott,” said Ellis, “spends a vast amount of her time pretending to be a waitress. Don’t ever go anywhere near the joint she works in—I won’t even tell you where it is—she’s the worst . As a waitress. But she’s a great singer. You’re going to be hearing a lot from Miss Ida Scott.” And he grabbed her hand and patted it hard for a moment, held it for a moment. “We might be able to persuade those boys on the stand to let her sing a couple of numbers for us.” “Oh, please. I didn’t come dressed for anything. Cass picked me up at work, and we just came on as we were.” Ellis looked around the table. “Does anyone object to the way Miss Scott is dressed?” “My God, no,” said Mrs. Barry, swooping and buckling and perspiring and breathing hard, “she’s perfectly charming.” “If a man’s word means anything,” said Mr. Nash, “I couldn’t care less what Miss Scott took it into her beautiful head to wear. There are women who look well in—well, I guess I better not say that in front of my wife,” and his heavy, merry laugh rang out, almost drowning the music for a few seconds. His wife did not, however, seem to be easily amused. “Anyway,” said Ida, “they’ve got a vocalist, and she won’t like it. If I was the vocalist, I wouldn’t like it.” “Well. We’ll see.” And he took her hand again. “I’d much rather not.” “We’ll see . Okay?” “All right,” said Ida, and took her hand away, “we’ll see.” The waiter came and set their drinks before them.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  And when they are taken to task of these and many other unseemly things that they do, they think that to answer, "Do as we say and not as we do," is a sufficient discharge of every grave burden, as if it were possible for the sheep to be more constant and stouter to resist temptation[183] than the shepherds. And how many there be of those to whom they make such a reply who apprehend it not after the fashion[184] in which they say it, the most part of them know. The monks of our day would have you do as they say, to wit, fill their purses with money, trust your secrets to them, observe chastity, practise patience and forgiveness of injuries and keep yourselves from evil speaking,--all things good, seemly and righteous; but why would they have this? So they may do that, which if the laity did, themselves could not do. Who knoweth not that without money idleness may not endure? An thou expend thy monies in thy pleasures, the friar will not be able to idle it in the monastery; an thou follow after women, there will be no room for him, and except thou be patient or a forgiver of injuries, he will not dare to come to thy house to corrupt thy family. But why should I hark back after every particular? They condemn themselves in the eyes of the understanding as often as they make this excuse. An they believe not themselves able to abstain and lead a devout life, why do they not rather abide at home? Or, if they will e'en give themselves unto this,[185] why do they not ensue that other holy saying of the Gospel, "Christ began to do and to teach?"[186] Let them first do and after teach others. I have in my time seen a thousand of them wooers, lovers and haunters, not of lay women alone, but of nuns; ay, and of those that make the greatest outcry in the pulpit. Shall we, then, follow after these who are thus fashioned? Whoso doth it doth that which he will, but God knoweth if he do wisely. [Footnote 183: Lit. more of iron (_più di ferro_).] [Footnote 184: Sic (_per lo modo_); but _quære_ not rather "in the sense."] [Footnote 185: _i.e._ if they must enter upon this way of life, to wit, that of the friar.] [Footnote 186: The reference is apparently to the opening verse of the Acts of the Apostles, where Luke says, "The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began to do and to teach." It need hardly be remarked that the passage in question does not bear the interpretation Boccaccio would put upon it.]

• From Another Country (1962)

  She sipped her cognac and raised her chin. “Why don’t you come back? You can see for yourself how well the bar does, it would be a good situation for you. Et puis—–” “Et puis quoi?” “I am no longer very, very young, it would be un soulagement if my son and I could be friends.” And Yves laughed. “You need friends? Go dig up some of those that you buried in order to get this bar. Friends! Je veut vivre, moi!” “Ah, you are ungrateful.” Sometimes, when she said this, she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Don’t bother me any more, you know what I think of you, go back to your clients.” And the last word was thrown at his mother, like a curse; sometimes, if he were drunk enough, there were tears in his eyes. He would let his mother get halfway down the bar before he shouted. “Merci, pour le cognac, Madame!” And she turned, with a slight bow, saying, “De rien, M’sieu.” Eric had been there with him once, and had rather liked Yves’ mother, but they had never gone back. And they had scarcely ever spoken of it. There was something hidden in it which Yves did not want to see. Now, Yves leapt over the low stone wall and entered the garden, grinning. “You should have come in the water with me, it was wonderful. It would do wonders for your figure; do you know how fat you are getting?” He flicked at Eric’s belly with his bikini and fell on the ground beside him. The kitten approached cautiously, sniffing Yves’ foot as though it were investigating some prehistoric monstrosity, and Yves grabbed it, holding it against his shoulder, and stroking it. The kitten closed its eyes and began to purr. “You see how she loves me? It is a pity to leave her here, let us take her with us to New York.” “Getting you into America is going to be hassle enough, baby, let’s not rock the boat. Besides, New York is full of alley cats. And alleys.” He said this with his eyes closed, drinking in the sun and the odors of the garden and the dark, salty odors of Yves. The children from the nearby house were still on the beach; he could hear their voices. “You have no sympathy for animals. She will suffer terribly when we go away.” “She’ll recover. Cats are much stronger than people.” He kept his eyes closed. He felt Yves turn to look down at him. “Why are you so troubled about going to New York?” “New York’s a very troubling place.” “I am not afraid of trouble.” He touched Eric lightly on the chest and Eric opened his eyes. He stared up into Yves’ grave, brown, affectionate face. “But you are. You are afraid of trouble in New York. Why?” “I’m not afraid, Yves. But I have had a lot of trouble there.”

• From Survival of the Prettiest: The Science of Beauty (1999)

  Whether or not sexual selection played a key role in the range of skin tones we see today, one thing is clear: they reflect little about what goes on under the skin. As geneticist Luigi Luca Cavalli Sforza writes, “It is because they are external that these racial differences strike us so forcibly and we automatically assume that differences of similar magnitude exist below the surface in the rest of our genetic makeup. This is simply not so: the remainder of our genetic makeup hardly differs at all.” But anthropologist Alan Goodman is quick to make the distinction between the facts of science and the prejudices of the human mind: “Race as bad biology has nothing to do with race as lived experience.… True races may not exist but racism does.” Beauty judgments are sensitive barometers of social status. In all countries the economically dominant group has put forward its own ethnic features as the standard of beauty, and in widespread dominance mimicry, other groups tend to follow the group’s lead. The universal preferences remain—for clear skin, lustrous hair, full lips, and so on—but the exact incarnation of these features can differ depending on who holds the reins of power. When studying race relations in the West Indies in the 1960s, sociologist Harry Hoetink observed that the standards of physical attractiveness were always molded by the appearance of the dominant group. Those who can “pass” as members of the group in power are more likely to rise in status and be considered “attractive” by that society’s standards. Why do light-skinned models adorn magazines in Brazil? As in the United States, the phenomenon can be traced to the radical inequality between the Portuguese, who arrived in 1500, the indigenous Indian population, whom they conquered, and the Africans, many of whom were brought as slaves for the sugar plantations. Four centuries later, only forty percent of Brazil’s citizens are white but they remain the rich and powerful. In 1996 a magazine called Brazil Race was launched for the “invisible 90 million people”—the non-whites who are seldom seen in the media. It sold out its first run of 200,000 copies within a week, prompting its editor, Aroldo Macedo, to say that it single-handedly exploded the myth that a magazine with blacks on the cover would never sell.

• From Another Country (1962)

  I’m proud of you.” “Why should you be proud of me? I am just a good-for-nothing, it is just as well that I am good-looking, that’s how I live.” And he watched her. “ Tu comprends, hein? ” “If you talk that way, I want to know nothing, nothing, of your life!” “Why not? It is just like yours, when you were young. Or maybe even now, how can I tell?” She sipped her cognac and raised her chin. “Why don’t you come back? You can see for yourself how well the bar does, it would be a good situation for you. Et puis—– ” “ Et puis quoi? ” “I am no longer very, very young, it would be un soulagement if my son and I could be friends.” And Yves laughed. “You need friends? Go dig up some of those that you buried in order to get this bar. Friends! Je veut vivre, moi !” “Ah, you are ungrateful.” Sometimes, when she said this, she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Don’t bother me any more, you know what I think of you, go back to your clients.” And the last word was thrown at his mother, like a curse; sometimes, if he were drunk enough, there were tears in his eyes. He would let his mother get halfway down the bar before he shouted. “ Merci, pour le cognac, Madame! ” And she turned, with a slight bow, saying, “De rien, M’sieu.” Eric had been there with him once, and had rather liked Yves’ mother, but they had never gone back. And they had scarcely ever spoken of it. There was something hidden in it which Yves did not want to see. Now, Yves leapt over the low stone wall and entered the garden, grinning . “You should have come in the water with me, it was wonderful. It would do wonders for your figure; do you know how fat you are getting?” He flicked at Eric’s belly with his bikini and fell on the ground beside him. The kitten approached cautiously, sniffing Yves’ foot as though it were investigating some prehistoric monstrosity, and Yves grabbed it, holding it against his shoulder, and stroking it. The kitten closed its eyes and began to purr. “You see how she loves me? It is a pity to leave her here, let us take her with us to New York.” “Getting you into America is going to be hassle enough, baby, let’s not rock the boat. Besides, New York is full of alley cats. And alleys.” He said this with his eyes closed, drinking in the sun and the odors of the garden and the dark, salty odors of Yves. The children from the nearby house were still on the beach; he could hear their voices. “You have no sympathy for animals.

• From Real Life (2020)

  Il bâilla et s’étira. Il se frotta les yeux d’une main salée et grasse à cause des pop-corns et des nachos. Il sursauta aussitôt, manquant renverser la table. Wallace vit le récipient de nachos vides et comprit ce qui s’était passé. « Merde, dit Miller. — Oh non. — Ça va ? — Non, Yngve, ça ne va pas », dit Miller et il s’éloigna par le chemin de pierre. « J’y vais », lança Wallace avant que Cole en ait le temps. Parmi les grappes de Blancs, Wallace vit : un gros homme roux dont les poils dorés étaient éclairés par les lampes puissantes des stands ; deux garçonnets avec des petites voitures qu’ils faisaient tourner en rond sur la surface lisse de leur table et le long des bras de leurs parents musclés, un peu las, dont l’expression était tendue, avec cette vague méchanceté typique des personnes d’allure sportive ; plusieurs tables de frat boys , tous en débardeurs, leur peau si saine dans la lueur laiteuse du crépuscule sous les arbres qu’on aurait dit qu’elle brillait de possibilités ; et des groupes, par-ci par-là, de personnes plus âgées, avec leurs corps et leurs vies amollies, venus ici pour retrouver un éclat du passé, comme des enfants qui capturent des lucioles dans des pots. Les musiciens sur scène, le lac dans le dos, jouaient une espèce de swing caribéen, mais comme hors tempo, décalé. Ils portaient des chemises hawaïennes et semblaient avoir à peu près le même âge que Wallace, avec des cheveux blonds mi-longs et des nez volontaires ; ils se ressemblaient tous tellement qu’ils auraient pu être frères. Plusieurs lampes torches étaient allumées dans l’assistance, mais les stands étaient équipés de lumières puissantes braquées devant eux, et quand on arrivait là pour commander de la bière à prix prohibitif, des bretzels mous acceptables, ou des saucisses, c’était comme si on passait brutalement de la nuit au jour. Wallace attendit dans la queue derrière l’homme aux poils dorés sur les épaules, et lorsque ce fut son tour, il commanda une petite bouteille de lait. Elle lui coûta 3,50 $, et le serveur, un jeune type à la barbe miteuse et au nez plat, lui jeta un regard sceptique en fouillant la glacière pour y prendre le lait. Wallace chercha Miller des yeux. Il n’était pas loin derrière lui lorsqu’ils avaient quitté l’escalier sur lequel débouchait le chemin bétonné. Avec leurs parois en verre, les couloirs de l’association des étudiants étaient visibles et brillaient d’un éclairage doux, jaune. Ils étaient pavés de marbre, le genre de revêtement que Wallace aurait plutôt associé à une banque. Sous le large manteau sombre du grand chêne, au centre du pavillon, quelques personnes s’étaient levées pour danser. Il les regarda se déhancher en une petite danse raide et saccadée.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  There used to be, and belike is yet, a custom, in all maritime places which have a port, that all merchants who come thither with merchandise, having unloaded it, should carry it all into a warehouse, which is in many places called a customhouse, kept by the commonality or by the lord of the place. There they give unto those who are deputed to that end a note in writing of all their merchandise and the value thereof, and they thereupon make over to each merchant a storehouse, wherein he layeth up his goods under lock and key. Moreover, the said officers enter in the book of the Customs, to each merchant's credit, all his merchandise, causing themselves after he paid their dues of the merchants, whether for all his said merchandise or for such part thereof as he withdraweth from the customhouse. By this book of the Customs the brokers mostly inform themselves of the quality and the quantity of the goods that are in bond there and also who are the merchants that own them; and with these latter, as occasion serveth them, they treat of exchanges and barters and sales and other transactions. This usance, amongst many other places, was current at Palermo in Sicily, where likewise there were and are yet many women, very fair of their person, but sworn enemies to honesty, who would be and are by those who know them not held great ladies and passing virtuous and who, being given not to shave, but altogether to flay men, no sooner espy a merchant there than they inform themselves by the book of the Customs of that which he hath there and how much he can do;[414] after which by their lovesome and engaging fashions and with the most dulcet words, they study to allure the said merchants and draw them into the snare of their love; and many an one have they aforetime lured thereinto, from whom they have wiled great part of their merchandise; nay, many have they despoiled of all, and of these there be some who have left goods and ship and flesh and bones in their hands, so sweetly hath the barberess known to ply the razor. [Footnote 414: _i.e._ what he is worth.]

• From The Confessions of Saint Augustine (354)

  Behold, O Lord God, yea, behold patiently as Thou art wont how carefully the sons of men observe the covenanted rules of letters and syllables received from those who spake before them, neglecting the eternal covenant of everlasting salvation received from Thee. Insomuch, that a teacher or learner of the hereditary laws of pronunciation will more offend men by speaking without the aspirate, of a “uman being,” in despite of the laws of grammar, than if he, a “human being,” hate a “human being” in despite of Thine. As if any enemy could be more hurtful than the hatred with which he is incensed against him; or could wound more deeply him whom he persecutes, than he wounds his own soul by his enmity. Assuredly no science of letters can be so innate as the record of conscience, “that he is doing to another what from another he would be loth to suffer.” How deep are Thy ways, O God, Thou only great, that sittest silent on high and by an unwearied law dispensing penal blindness to lawless desires. In quest of the fame of eloquence, a man standing before a human judge, surrounded by a human throng, declaiming against his enemy with fiercest hatred, will take heed most watchfully, lest, by an error of the tongue, he murder the word “human being”; but takes no heed, lest, through the fury of his spirit, he murder the real human being.

• From Fragments (7)

  N'oublions pas de remarquer que pour émettre, à cette époque, de pareilles énormités, on gardait encore l'anonyme. Mais il faut croire que le terrain, en Angle- terre, était naturellement bien disposé ou fut bientôt préparé, car, en 1745, Rich. Dawes afficha « l'habitude » de se passer de ces esprits, de ces accents, apices istos, qui, pour lui, en présence du W anglais, étaient désor- mais inutiles (v. D'Orville, Animadv. in Charit. Aphrod. tom. II, Mb. II, 6, p. 191 102: Rirh. Dfnvesiiisin observ. Afiscel... p. /8.5... ex-Homero Od. ; *>'f^ rescribens ivOp(i')Trcu; èt/ôpY»', sive suo more iwiw'M^^fv....). Il est évident qu'après cela, il n'est mf^mo plus besoin de 1-lliade de Poine Knight pour autopiser le digamma vo aeolicum seu potius anglicum de Boissonade. Mais pendant que les hellénistes français s'en tiraient avec cette boutade, les Allemands qui, depuis le xviii^ siècle, sous les ordres de leurs libraires, se contentaient de reéditer plus ou moins fidèlement les éditions anglai- ses, finirent, à ce jeu, par attraper le digamma ; qui ne parait pas devoir les lâcher, avant que le stock des livres qu'il a contaminés, ne soit épuisé en librairie. En somme, pour apprécier l'harmonie de la langue grecque, et comprendre la barbarie du digamma, il faut des oreilles qui ne soient ni anglaises, ni allemandes, ni purement françaises : à moins qu'elles n'aient corrigé leur imperfection originelle, en entendant parler devrais Grecs, ou à défaut, des anciens colons grecs qui, bien que parlant aujourd'hui une autre langue, ont gardé pour la prononcer, les anciennes intonations de la lan- gue grecque. Tels sont les purs Gascons, auxquels nous allons demander de nous traduire, en leur dialecte, cette simple phrase : « Entends, Marie, que ton fils a cassé un œuf. » Seulement comme leur langue se chante plu- tôt qu'elle ne se parle, leur traduction n'aurait plus de sel , si nous ne la figurions pas de la manière suivante : tV ^ fy ^^ < ' VV il L ••i 'l »' • ' On le voit cette phrase a ses mots marqués des esprits et des accents grecs. La voici en orthographe du pays : AhoUy Maria, que tou Ml a coupai uh houèou. Ce qui nous sert à démontrer que l'esprit rude est l'aspiration avant, et l'esprit doux, l'aspiration après la lettre. Dans cette dernière position, raspiration paraît s'adoucir, parce qu'une partie de sa force est absorbée dans l'émission de la lettre qui suit. Tout cela n'a rien de commun avec le W anglais, qu'on s'accorde, bien à tort, à reconnaître comme l'équivalent du di- gamma. De plus, puisque Qiiintilien dit que, pour le — 76 —

• From Augustine: A New Biography (2005)

  And so begins a long, tiring shuffle. Each Caecilianist bishop is called by name, acknowledges his presence, and is in turn acknowledged by his Donatist rival. Most of the confrontations pass quietly, but outbursts happened. One Caecilianist is called and a Donatist named Januarius recognizes him. “It’s my diocese,” he says. “But he’s got nobody there,” the Caecilianist retorts. “It’s my diocese.” “But you’ve got nobody there, no church, no communicants.” “How many did you have before you forced your way in?” Petilian intervenes to complain. Four Caecilianist bishops lurk in various parts of Januarius’s diocese, planted to bulk up the numbers.467 Some went unchallenged as the other party acknowledged it was unrepresented in a given community; death and ill health were blamed for some absences; sometimes a Caecilianist was recognized as ex-Donatist. “That one was ours,” said Primian of one. “You should do as he did,” retorted Alypius. Other barbs punctuated the tedious routine: “I got to know him by the wrong he did me,” one Donatist says for the record of his Caecilianist townsman. Another Caecilianist adds, when his name is called, “If anybody called himself a Donatist in my town, he’d be stoned.” Or consider this snapshot: The clerk recited: “Severian, bishop of Ceramussa, I approved the mandatum and signed it at Carthage before the distinguished tribune and notary Marcellinus.” When that had been read, Severian said, “The diocese is all catholic.” Habetdeum, the deacon of [the Donatist] bishop Primian [of Carthage] said, “We have the elderly Adeodatus there.” Severian, bishop of the catholic church, said: “Show him.” Adeodatus, bishop, said, “Ceramussa near Milev468 is part of my people.” Severian, bishop of the catholic church, said, “The whole church there is catholic from the beginning. There were never Donatists there.” Adeodatus, bishop, said, “It’s part of my people. It was his violence that drove my clergy and priests away.” Severian, bishop of the catholic church, said: “He’s lying, as god is my witness.” Marcellinus, distinguished tribune and notary, said, “Let your holiness just say this clearly, whether there’s a bishop there now.” Adeodatus, bishop, said, “It’s part of my people, everything around it is mine. All of my people there have succumbed to the terror.” Severian, bishop of the catholic church, said: “He’s lying.”469 The Donatist Victor of Hippo Diarrhytus makes his point: “I’m here. Write it down whether Florentius recognizes me in person: he’s the one who had me thrown in jail awaiting execution for three years, in all my innocence.” This is a family quarrel. An overarching decorum and commonality of language and even grudging mutual respect mark the space in which they argue passionately. People have moved back and forth between the two communities, but these people on this day know no outside world, no third place to go.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  2. The opposite extreme is a false Gentile Christianity, which may be called the Paganizing or Gnostic heresy. It is as radical and revolutionary as the other is contracted and reactionary. It violently breaks away from the past, while the Judaizing heresies tenaciously and stubbornly cling to it as permanently binding. It exaggerates the Pauline view of the distinction of Christianity from Judaism, sunders Christianity from its historical basis, resolves the real humanity of the Saviour into a Doketistic illusion, and perverts the freedom of the gospel into antinomian licentiousness. The author, or first representative of this baptized heathenism, according to the uniform testimony of Christian antiquity, is Simon Magus, who unquestionably adulterated Christianity with pagan ideas and practices, and gave himself out, in pantheistic style, for an emanation of God.863 Plain traces of this error appear in the later epistles of Paul (to the Colossians, to Timothy, and to Titus), the second epistle of Peter, the first two epistles of John, the epistle of Jude, and the messages of the Apocalypse to the seven churches. This heresy, in the second century, spread over the whole church, east and west, in the various schools of Gnosticism. 3. As attempts had already been made, before Christ, by Philo, by the Therapeutae and the Essenes, etc., to blend the Jewish religion with heathen philosophy, especially that of Pythagoras and Plato, so now, under the Christian name, there appeared confused combinations of these opposite systems, forming either a Paganizing Judaism, i.e., Gnostic Ebionism, or a Judaizing Paganism i.e., Ebionistic Gnosticism, according as the Jewish or the heathen element prevailed. This Syncretistic heresy was the caricature of John’s theology, which truly reconciled Jewish and Gentile Christianity in the highest conception of the person and work of Christ. The errors combated in the later books of the New Testament are almost all more or less of this mixed sort, and it is often doubtful whether they come from Judaism or from heathenism. They were usually shrouded in a shadowy mysticism and surrounded by the halo of a self-made ascetic holiness, but sometimes degenerated into the opposite extreme of antinomian licentiousness.

• From Fragments (7)

  2" Fr. * 41 de Sappho : "AtÔt col S'Ip-eÔev [xèv à-:rf;/bei:o çpsvT'içî'/jv èxl S"Av5p5ixéîav -ôty]. Héphestion, le seul qui nous ait transmis ce fragment, nous le donne comme anonyme. C'est pour cela que Bergk l'a marqué d'un astérisque ; néanmoins il l'attribue à Sappho par con- jecture, pour la seule raison que Maxime de Tyr cite Atthis comme une amie de Sappho: ce qui est loin d'être une preuve sérieuse. Car, même en supposant qn'AIcxis n'eiU pas fait sa comédie d'Atthis, celle raison aurait d'autant moins de valeur que, dans notre premier opus- cule (v. SF., p. 65, 66^, nous avons surpris Maxime de Tyr, au même chapitre XX1\', 9, en flagrant délit de falsification d'un texte dePlalon, dans rinlention mani- feste de rendre éminemment pornographique un passage qui dans l'original est bien loin de l'être. 3" Enfin, voici le fragment venu d'OiiIre-IIJiin. pour griser un de nos puhlicistes, au point de lui faire créer le « Cycle d'Atthis » : — ùo — I (na'.5avY;po'î[xav, ' 'Aiôt, TaXai t.ôtx 'yw îiOîV Tjyi y.)ap$((av) (Seypo T:ôX)Xaxt -c'jTâX^Ç ^X^-'^^» II wr7:(£p Y;5'cl>t£'.)a)ôixev' (£[ji.[X£vai) kq 6;a; IxiX', àv àp».- -f/wxaç (à)5à [xxAtî-'à'xa'Vî [ji,ÔA-a. III vOv 8à A'JSai(7'àv3o? xpéi:£ xaTç Y'jva-!- xeujtv, cj3{t£) xo-'àXiu) SJvTCç, à ^ps^sSaxTjXi;; 0£ Mr,va, IV Tzxnx Tr£p(p)éy_o'.î' as-cpa, f aoç S £Trf- c^ct 6xXa77av £•;: àX[xJpav, Icrw? xat -oX'javOé;j.st^ âpîjpa'.^. V à ^\k)ip7x xiXa /.é/uTa'., T£Ôi- X(a)t<Ji $£ ^pé3a xaT:aX'àv- 6pur/.a, y.as ;ji.£X(Xa)T3ç ôvOsjJtwSrjÇ. 1jlvxj6£[7' ' 'At6'5oç, t|jiip(o(i) Xéxc' âicoï (fpéva xap5i 'â|i.6iXT,Tai.... Traduction : « Je t'ai enlevée dans mes bras Atthis (c.-à-d. je t'ai adoptée comme mon enfant) ; toi-même jusqu'à ces jours, tant que la plus grande partie de tes affections se trouvait concentrée ici, identifiée à la divinité, tu étais comme une déesse dans son temple ; et pour toi comme pour la plus célèbre (des déesses) les chœurs de chant mêlés de danse ouvraient en haut la bouche toute grande. Maintenant va dans ton intérieur, éclipser les femmes de Lydie : comme après le coucher du soleil, Mena aux doigts de rose, éclipsant tous les astres, inonde de sa clarté les ondes salées de la mer et les innombrables fleurs des champs ; comme la rosée répand ses gouttes brillantes ; comme naissent les roses, les frêles cerfeuils sauvages et le mélilot fleuri. Pour moi, me rappelant combien Atthis aux doux yeux brillait par-dessus tout, avec une peine aiguisée de désir je sentirai mon cœur se soulever dans ma frêle poitrine.» — 56 — On voudra bien remarquer qu'à moins de changer arbitrairement le texte du manuscrit, ce fragment se révèle par des signes indiscutables, comme apparte- nant à une comédie. C'est pour cela que, pour recons- tituer ce qui lui manquait, nous sommes entré dans le sens et le ton du morceau, en parodiant le Fr. 33 de Sappho. D'ailleurs on va voir que ce texte n'a pas besoin de notre reconstitution pour s'affirmer comme éminemment parodique.

• From An Anomalous Jew: Paul Among Jews, Greeks, and Romans (2016)

  The Christ-believers who were persecuted under Nero in the mid-6os CE, including the probable executions of Peter and Paul,”* were probably motivated by complex local factors relating to religious scruples and social competition. It is certainly true that abstention from the imperial cult is not treated as the reason for the Neronian persecution in our sources. What we do know from Tacitus is that Christ-believers were despised for their “abomi- nations,” as a “mischievous superstition’; they were typical of things “hideous and shameful” that make their way to Rome and scorned for their “hatred of mankind.’”’ Of course, similar criticisms were said of many Eastern rites that had come to Rome, both Judaism and the Bacchus cultus,”* so why the focus on the Christ-believers in the Neronian persecution? Most likely, Christ-believers were singled out because they were regarded as committing national apostasy. By abandoning and critiquing Roman religion, they were perceived as religiously impious and politically disloyal.** Although competitive relationship to Caesar that would lead to revolt, but true in the sense that the Christian mission entails a call to another way of life, which will turn the world upside down. 22. Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. 2.25.5-8. 23. Tacitus, Ann. 15.44. 24. Compare Livy, Hist. 39.8-19, and Tacitus, Hist. 5.5. See discussion in Mikael Tellbe, Paul between Synagogue and State: Christians, Jews, and Civic Authorities in 1 Thessalonians, Romans, and Philippians (ConBNT 34; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2001), 26-35. 25. See Pliny, Ep. 10.96.2; Mart. Pol. 9.2; Tertullian, Apol. 24.1; 28.2. Note that Trajan’s reply to Pliny reveals a “don't ask, don't tell” policy about Christ-believers; if they are found, however, then they must be punished unless they recant by “worshiping our gods.” See John Granger Cook, Roman Attitudes toward the Christians (WUNT 261; Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 89-92, 290-93. Barclay (Pauline Churches, 359-61) notes that refusing to worship the Roman gods was the point of contention, and he regards failure to participate in the imperial cult as only one facet of the “atheism” of Christians. The problem I have is that the imperial cult—not the cults of Roma, the Capitoline triad, or local cults like Artemis, Serapis, or Diana—was always the litmus test of loyalty. So while the imperial cult might not necessarily have been the primary mode of idolatry critiqued by Paul, even so, Roman officials always insisted on devotion to the imperial cult as a way of unmasking the atheism of Christians, which implies the imperial cult’s prominence within Roman religion and its prominence among those critical of Roman religion. As N. T. Wright (Paul and the Faithfulness of God [COQG 4; London: SPCK, 2013], 1313-14) puts it: “Yes, the Christian refusal to worship the gods in general mattered; but Caesar was always the particular case.” Similar is Dorothea H.

• From Fragments (7)

  Et maintenant, après tout ce que nous venons de dire, il nous paraît bien établi que la vraie Sappho est complètement étrangère à Atthis, et que les fragments qui mentionnent TAttique personnifiée, sont mieux à leur place dans la comédie d'Alexis, intitulée Atthis, laquelle, du coup, rentre dans la catégorie des comé- dies antiféministes, qui mirent Sappho en scène. D'au- tant plus qu'il nous reste encore de cette comédie un fragment, caractérisant les intentions des comiques et de ceux qui les payaient, d'une manière si heureuse, qu'il ne peut manquer d'avoir inspiré le Don Basile du Figaro de Beaumarchais : Îtzz'.tx ;ji.5a)vCV ;j.a/.Xsv « Sur la lumière Jupiter amoncelle les nuages d'abord avec précaution, ensuite vite, vite ! » Voici maintenant un fragment qui s'impose encore à notre étude, parce qu'il s'y trouve le nom de Psappho : I t£8vx/.t;v 5'âBsXw; Wm. a '^z t{/'.!j§0|i.iva y.aT£A(T:7:avev II xéXXa, xa'i TéS'èéXvexîv)' ô>i;j.', (ô; §£?va xî'::(5v6a)'(ji.£V, ^i::!p', ^ [j.Ti 7 ii-AZ'.z iiz'jK'.'^r.xm. III Tx* S £Y<** ~i^^X'iJ.tiSz'ft.'xt' Xa''pot{T' ipyeo xa;jLs6év [i.t [Ji.va?j6', oTj6a vip wç {<i)s. iceS65XCii.r,v' JV arSs ix-Tj, àXXà ôétov 6tXu) . èjAvoîa', aî(ç àT:'j)X(£Oi'£ai (xwaira xoyoôj^ xai xaX' èzao^^oixev. — 60 — V Tr(6XXoiç yxp aT£9â)vciç l'wv y.at tjXXoiç ttaoxîwv PpéBwv, xai (ôpùffxwv) Trap'^ixoi irape9rjxa(o), VI -/.al ^(éXXaiç ÛTro)6'jp.tSaç àv6é(i)v £p(âT(ov) TCSTCor^ixixévaiç' VII y.at TcôXXatç âà (îdXatç p-ûpo) PpevOeîo) (3{aatXYîi)(») £^aX(t}^ao, x(a[jL ixot kyeXxo x6|jLaiç), VIII /.ai arpôiJLvaiç.... Tcôvdcxr^v] C'est une réminiscence du vers 15 de l'ode II ; et dès lors ce mot dénote une imitation de Sappho et non une œuvre originale . àSôAwç Wkisi] est une de ces allitérations plus familiè- res aux comiques qu'à Sappho ; àSéAw; fait d'ailleurs partie du bagage néologique des raiBî/.a. dont nous avons déjà parlé, voir aussi Théocrite XXIX, 32. '^laBc^iiva xaxeXfTnravev] Gomme la racine VA, ^I donne aux mots qui la renferment le sens de gratter, déchirer, réduire en miettes... il nous semble que ce n'est pas par elle qu'on expliquera la <!^0:^o\t.irr,' yXxlojox d'Hésychius ; à moins d'admettre l'influence égyptienne qui aurait intro- duit l'article égyptien tc devant certains mots grecs com- mençant par (j (cf. Thés. '}x^f5aç, ^J/ayetov, etc.). Nous aurions alors t]/iÇo[i.£vr, :r:Tt + (ji!^o|JL£vY] désignant les siffle- ments, ou les essoufllements de certains sanglots. Mais il ne faut pas oublier le sens de téter, sucer, déguster à petits coups qui découle du passage suivant de Stobée, Klor. 78, 5 : [/.aaTov ïi:\.T/p\x.birf A£jx<T) «j'I'Itja y*^*^'^^ • ^^^s lors il est permis de croire qu'en entendant ce mot, les Athéniens ne se privaient pas de songer à des allusions, que confirme le xaTeXîzzavev (aor. 2, avec gém. éol. du ■K due à la résolution de la diphtongue at) de XtTCx{v(>), employé par les comiques et par Aspasie (v. Athénéo — 61 ~ 219 G.), dans une pièce erotique avec le sens de mouil- ler, humecter. Dans la pièce de vers qui nous occupe, la préposition /,x-x en la localisant en bas donne à cette expression un sens équivoque.

• From Fragments (7)

  mais, en plus des distractions habituelles à cet auteur ou à ses copistes, il faut remarquer que, dans ce pas- sage, où il n'est question que de comédiens et de comédies, les personnages des auteurs lyriques, Sappho et Alcée, sont fort déplacés. Passe encore pour Alcée, parce que « Alcœi melici pœtœ nomen a comico non semper certe distinguere licet. » Et, en effet, il est certainement question ici du comique, car un peu plus loin Athénée, 687 D, ayant à parler du poète lyrique, le différencie nettement en ces termes : xal 6 ànipv.i'.x-.zi 8à r.pzziv, îà xal T.o'f.vj.':/.zq -c.t.tt,; Wr/.otXc^ è'ît;. Quant à Sappho, puisque c'est la pièce que nous étudions qui est visée, il faut bien reconnaître : ou bien que, de même qu'on a de tout temps « cousu des haillons à la pourpre des grands, » de même on a fini par glisser subrepticement des pastiches plus ou moins éoliens dans les œuvres de Sappho. Et cela datait de loin, puisque, d'après Athénée lui-même XIII, 599 C, Cha- méléon ou Hermésianax avaient fabriqué des strophes d'Anacréon (Fr. 14), adressées à Sappho ; et ce qui était un comble, une prétendue réponse de Sappho (Fr. 26), parlant du « noble vieillard de Téos » ! Ou bien qu'Athénée, qui n'en est pas à une confu- sion de noms près, a pris, pour la poétesse elle-même, le nom d'une des six comédies intitulées Sappho. A moins que de son temps il n'existât déjà, interpolée dans le bagage poétique de cette dernière, cette poésie dramatique dont parle Etienne de Byzance, en termes qui paraissent, jusqu'à un certain point, avoir entraîné la conviction de Welcker : « Non tamen omnem fidem denegat (Welcker Stephano (magistello Byzantino) narranti de carminé dramatico Sapphus, in quo Alcaeus, sive alius quis, cum puella amata sermones seruerit.» Bergk III, 99. Quoi qu'il en soit, comme personne avant nous, n'avait -66- soupçonné les rapports posthumes de Sappho avec le mouvement féministe d'Athènes, Welker ne pouvait pas encore deviner la portée des paroles d'Etienne de Byzance ; tandis qu'avec la même ignorance forcée, et un parti-pris diamétralement opposé aux opinions de AVeIcker, Bergk, à défaut de preuves, essayait du mépris pour annihiler le Byzantin et son témoignage. Mais dorénavant il sera impossible de ne pas attribuer aux paroles d'Etienne de Byzance l'importance qu'elles méritent : elles constitueront désormais une nouvelle preuve formelle de l'intrusion des parodies dans les œuvres de Sappho. Nous ne pensons pas, en eflet, qu'il puisse venir à l'idée de quelqu'un, de soutenir sérieu- sement que notre poétesse avait réellement composé une tragédie, une comédie, ou même un dialogue dra- matique quelconque : attendu que, dans cette hypothèse, elle aurait, de beaucoup trop, devancé l'époque où vit le jour, pour la première fois, ce genre de productions poétiques. De même la confusion que nous venons de signaler dans Athénée, est pour notre point de vue éminemment suggestive.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “My _protégé_, as you call him, is a sensible man; and sense will always have attractions for me. Yes, Marianne, even in a man between thirty and forty. He has seen a great deal of the world; has been abroad, has read, and has a thinking mind. I have found him capable of giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always answered my inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and good nature.” “That is to say,” cried Marianne contemptuously, “he has told you, that in the East Indies the climate is hot, and the mosquitoes are troublesome.” “He _would_ have told me so, I doubt not, had I made any such inquiries, but they happened to be points on which I had been previously informed.” “Perhaps,” said Willoughby, “his observations may have extended to the existence of nabobs, gold mohrs, and palanquins.” “I may venture to say that _his_ observations have stretched much further than _your_ candour. But why should you dislike him?” “I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very respectable man, who has every body’s good word, and nobody’s notice; who has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to employ, and two new coats every year.” “Add to which,” cried Marianne, “that he has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardour, and his voice no expression.” “You decide on his imperfections so much in the mass,” replied Elinor, “and so much on the strength of your own imagination, that the commendation _I_ am able to give of him is comparatively cold and insipid. I can only pronounce him to be a sensible man, well-bred, well-informed, of gentle address, and, I believe, possessing an amiable heart.” “Miss Dashwood,” cried Willoughby, “you are now using me unkindly. You are endeavouring to disarm me by reason, and to convince me against my will. But it will not do. You shall find me as stubborn as you can be artful. I have three unanswerable reasons for disliking Colonel Brandon; he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare. If it will be any satisfaction to you, however, to be told, that I believe his character to be in other respects irreproachable, I am ready to confess it. And in return for an acknowledgment, which must give me some pain, you cannot deny me the privilege of disliking him as much as ever.” CHAPTER XI.

• From An Anomalous Jew: Paul Among Jews, Greeks, and Romans (2016)

  And do not become associates of theirs.”°° Ac- cording to Acts, some Palestinian Jews considered it unlawful for a Jew to enter a Gentile’s house and eat with the residents there, a view that persisted in the Jerusalem church.*” The Qumran scrolls strictly forbid a member of the community from accepting food from a Gentile.** Tacitus writes about the Jews, with his usual contempt for them, that “they sit apart at meals.”*” Several passages in the Mishnah assume the uncleanness of Gentiles and their living quarters.°° Now that is not to say that a refusal to share meals with non-Jews was uniform and unanimous. Many Jews believed that they were still able to par- ticipate in the social fabric of the Greco-Roman world without necessarily compromising their religious beliefs. Jews did dine with Gentiles under cer- tain conditions.®’ The Mishanic tractate ‘Abodah Zarah (idolatry) assumes interaction with Gentiles and seeks to define the legitimate context for such association.®* Furthermore, proselytes did not appear in Jewish communities ex nihilo but were drawn in through an extended period of socialization and interaction, which in the ancient world required sharing meals together. So Tessa Rajak is corrected to conclude, “It is not inevitable that special dietary laws compel people to eat away from others. ... All sorts of arrangements are feasible, where there is a social reason to make them.”®* Markus Bockmueh] lists the primary options open to Torah-observant Jews regarding table fellowship with Gentiles: 56. Jub. 22.16; cf. Josephus, Ant. 13.245; Ep. Arist. 142. 57. Acts 10:28; 11:1-3. 58. 4Q394 frags. 3-7. 59. Tacitus, Hist. 5.5.2; cf. Diodorus, Bib. Hist. 34.1.1-2; Philostratus, Vit. Ap. 33. 60. m. Mak. 2.3; m. ’Ohal. 18.7. 61. Tob 1:11; Dan 1:3-17; Jdt 10:5; 12:17-19; Ep. Arist. 172-86; Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.174, 282; War 2.461-63; Jos. and Asen. 20.8; Cf. Sanders, “Jewish Association with Gentiles.” 170-88; Dunn, Jesus, Paul, and the Law, 137-48; Alan Segal, Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), 230-33; Tomson, Paul and the Jewish Law, 230-36; Bockmuehl, Jewish Law, 56-61; Zetterholm, Antioch, 151-56. 62. See m. ‘Abod. Zar. 4.6; 5.5; m. Ber. 7.1. 63. Tess Rajak, “The Jewish Community and Its Boundaries,’ in The Jews among Pagans and Christians in the Roman Empire, ed. J. Lieu, J. North, and T. Rajak (London: Routledge, 1992), 18. 188 The Incident at Antioch (Gal 2:11-14): The Beginnings of Paulinism 1. Refuse all table fellowship with Gentiles and refuse to enter a Gentile house. 2. Invite Gentiles to their house and prepare a Jewish meal. 3. Take their own food to a Gentile’s house. Dine with Gentiles on the explicit or implicit understanding that food they would eat was neither prohibited in the Torah nor tainted with idolatry.

• From The City of God

  Chapter 13. --That the Romans Should Have Understood that Gods Who Desired to Be Worshipped in Licentious Entertainments Were Unworthy of Divine Honor. But Scipio, were he alive, would possibly reply:"How could we attach a penalty to that which the gods themselves have consecrated? For the theatrical entertainments in which such things are said, and acted, and performed, were introduced into Roman society by the gods, who ordered that they should be dedicated and exhibited in their honor. "But was not this, then, the plainest proof that they were no true gods, nor in any respect worthy of receiving divine honours from the republic? Suppose they had required that in their honor the citizens of Rome should be held up to ridicule, every Roman would have resented the hateful proposal. How then, I would ask, can they be esteemed worthy of worship, when they propose that their own crimes be used as material for celebrating their praises? Does not this artifice expose them, and prove that they are detestable devils? Thus the Romans, though they were superstitious enough to serve as gods those who made no secret of their desire to be worshipped in licentious plays, yet had sufficient regard to their hereditary dignity and virtue, to prompt them to refuse to players any such rewards as the Greeks accorded them. On this point we have this testimony of Scipio, recorded in Cicero:"They [the Romans] considered comedy and all theatrical performances as disgraceful, and therefore not only debarred players from offices and honors open to ordinary citizens, but also decreed that their names should be branded by the censor, and erased from the roll of their tribe. "An excellent decree, and another testimony to the sagacity of Rome; but I could wish their prudence had been more thorough-going and consistent. For when I hear that if any Roman citizen chose the stage as his profession, he not only closed to himself every laudable career, but even became an outcast from his own tribe, I cannot but exclaim: This is the true Roman spirit, this is worthy of a state jealous of its reputation. But then some one interrupts my rapture, by inquiring with what consistency players are debarred from all honors, while plays are counted among the honors due to the gods? For a long while the virtue of Rome was uncontaminated by theatrical exhibitions; [104] and if they had been adopted for the sake of gratifying the taste of the citizens, they would have been introduced hand in hand with the relaxation of manners. But the fact is, that it was the gods who demanded that they should be exhibited to gratify them. With what justice, then, is the player excommunicated by whom God is worshipped? On what pretext can you at once adore him who exacts, and brand him who acts these plays? This, then, is the controversy in which the Greeks and Romans are engaged. The Greeks think they justly honor players, because they worship the gods who demand plays; the Romans, on the other hand, do not suffer an actor to disgrace by his name his own plebeian tribe, far less the senatorial order. And the whole of this discussion may be summed up in the following syllogism. The Greeks give us the major premise:If such gods are to be worshipped, then certainly such men may be honored. The Romans add the minor:But such men must by no means be honoured. The Christians draw the conclusion:Therefore such gods must by no means be worshipped.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “There now,” said Miss Steele, affectedly simpering, “everybody laughs at me so about the Doctor, and I cannot think why. My cousins say they are sure I have made a conquest; but for my part I declare I never think about him from one hour’s end to another. ‘Lord! here comes your beau, Nancy,’ my cousin said t’other day, when she saw him crossing the street to the house. My beau, indeed! said I—I cannot think who you mean. The Doctor is no beau of mine.” “Aye, aye, that is very pretty talking—but it won’t do—the Doctor is the man, I see.” “No, indeed!” replied her cousin, with affected earnestness, “and I beg you will contradict it, if you ever hear it talked of.” Mrs. Jennings directly gave her the gratifying assurance that she certainly would _not_, and Miss Steele was made completely happy. “I suppose you will go and stay with your brother and sister, Miss Dashwood, when they come to town,” said Lucy, returning, after a cessation of hostile hints, to the charge. “No, I do not think we shall.” “Oh, yes, I dare say you will.” Elinor would not humour her by farther opposition. “What a charming thing it is that Mrs. Dashwood can spare you both for so long a time together!” “Long a time, indeed!” interposed Mrs. Jennings. “Why, their visit is but just begun!” Lucy was silenced. “I am sorry we cannot see your sister, Miss Dashwood,” said Miss Steele. “I am sorry she is not well—” for Marianne had left the room on their arrival. “You are very good. My sister will be equally sorry to miss the pleasure of seeing you; but she has been very much plagued lately with nervous head-aches, which make her unfit for company or conversation.” “Oh, dear, that is a great pity! but such old friends as Lucy and me!—I think she might see _us;_ and I am sure we would not speak a word.” Elinor, with great civility, declined the proposal. Her sister was perhaps laid down upon the bed, or in her dressing gown, and therefore not able to come to them. “Oh, if that’s all,” cried Miss Steele, “we can just as well go and see _her_.” Elinor began to find this impertinence too much for her temper; but she was saved the trouble of checking it, by Lucy’s sharp reprimand, which now, as on many occasions, though it did not give much sweetness to the manners of one sister, was of advantage in governing those of the other. CHAPTER XXXIII. After some opposition, Marianne yielded to her sister’s entreaties, and consented to go out with her and Mrs. Jennings one morning for half an hour. She expressly conditioned, however, for paying no visits, and would do no more than accompany them to Gray’s in Sackville Street, where Elinor was carrying on a negotiation for the exchange of a few old-fashioned jewels of her mother.