BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE
Acts 28
3 Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand. 4 When the islanders saw the snake hanging from his hand, they said to each other, “This man must be a murderer; for though he escaped from the sea, Dike, the goddess of justice, has not allowed him to live.” 5 But Paul shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no ill effects.
O Dike, child of Zeus and Themis fair,
Whose steady scales the weight of mortals bear,
Thou radiant guardian of the righteous way,
Whose eye discerns the dark from shining day.
When judges swerve, thy voice to Zeus ascends,
And with thy grief the throne of heaven bends.
Adikia, thy foe, in chains is bound,
By staff and hand of thine struck to the ground.
O sister pure of Peace and Order bright,
Who crown the world with harmony and light,
Through thee the laws of men secure their frame,
Through thee the cities rise to deathless fame.
Thy daughter, Tranquillity, walks calm and mild,
A gentle spirit sprung from Justice’ child.
Severe to wrong, yet kind to virtue’s name,
Thou dealest honor, or requiting flame.
Attend, O goddess, guide our mortal hand,
That truth may flourish in each lawful land.
So shall the stars thy Virgo-form adorn,
And springtime greet the earth with golden morn.
O daughters born of Zeus, from Themis fair,
Ye Horai threefold, guardians of the air:
Auxo and Thallo, youth’s unfading prime,
Carpo who crowns the bough in autumn-time;
Eunomia rules with law’s unerring hand,
While Orthosie upholds the ordered land.
With Pherusa comes strength, Euporia grace,
And Irene brings peace with shining face.
But chief among you, Dike, goddess bright,
Whose steps are measured by eternal right.
Against proud Hybris’ rage thy course is run,
Till truth and order through thy race are won.
Thou seest kings who bend their vows to lies,
And call down ruin where their city lies;
Yet where men honor thee with judgment true,
The fields bear fruit, the skies are ever blue.
Thou sittest near thy father’s throne on high,
Recording slanders told with crooked lie;
And when foul counsel stains the prince’s word,
Thou mak’st his folly by the world be heard.
O nurse of tranquil peace, O city’s shield,
By thee the flocks increase, the harvest yield;
By thee the children grow, the hearth is blessed,
And mortals taste the earth’s enduring rest.
O Justice, ever pure, unswerving flame,
Let not the hearts of men forget thy name.
So shall our race be held in Zeus’s sight,
And flourish ever in thy changeless light.
O Fates, who spin the thread of mortal years,
Attend our song and hearken to our prayers.
Send rose-crowned Eunomia, calm and fair,
Whose hand restrains the city’s wild despair.
With her let thronèd Justice take her place,
And Peace, soft-garlanded, of gentle grace.
Together guide us from our grievous woes,
Where strife has triumphed and where sorrow grows.
For reckless pride, when wealth is prized too high,
Brings ruin down, though palaces defy.
The man who spurns the altar, scorning right,
Shall find his splendor swallowed up by night.
Yet Dike shines within the humble home,
Though smoke-begrimed, her sacred footsteps roam.
From gilded halls where hands are foul with gain,
She turns her eyes and will not there remain.
O righteous goddess, hear our steadfast plea:
Let Might and Justice walk in harmony.
As Ares meets with Ares on the field,
So Right to Right its balanced judgment yields.
For crime begets a child of crime again,
Till Ruin stalks the houses of proud men.
But thou, O Dike, crown the virtuous head,
And guard the paths where righteous feet are led.
The anvil of thy law is firm and true;
On it the Furies forge what men must do.
Let justice fall where blood has stained the land,
Yet guide our city with thy gentle hand.
O daughters of the Night, O holy three,
Bind fate with peace and righteous equity.
O daughter born of Zeus, whose eyes are flame,
O Dike, Justice, thine eternal name!
When Orestes struck with stealth the guilty pair,
Thy breath inflamed his hand, thy wrath was there;
Thou guid’st the avenger’s sword with righteous art,
And named by mortals straight, thou strik’st the heart.
When Melanippos faced the Theban foe,
Thy kinship armed his hand with noble glow;
Ares the dice of battle fierce may throw,
Yet thou, his blood-born sister, willed it so.
Upon the brazen shield of Polynice
Thy likeness shone, and golden-lettered device:
“I lead this man to take his father’s throne,
To walk once more within his halls, his own.”
But vain the boast, for thou wouldst not attend,
Nor stand beside the lawless to the end.
No dawn of youth, no step of manhood’s prime,
Won thee, O maiden, from his soul’s dark crime.
The suppliant’s cry thou guardest, grave and stern,
If from the first thou dost his cause discern;
Themis thy name as well, of Zeus divine,
To shield the stranger at the altar’s sign.
Pollution follows those who scorn thy call,
But those who honor thee shall never fall.
Reverence for parents, written in thy scroll,
Thy statute third, yet binding on the soul.
And thou, though voiceless, watchest night and day,
Unseen, unwearied, marking all our way.
No sleep can blind thee, Justice, none escape,
Thy gaze attends us, now, or soon, or late.
Even the dead, though joy nor grief they know,
Are clothed in wrath which thou alone dost show;
Nemesis aids thee, mighty to command,
And gives to dust the vengeance of thy hand.
O Dike, maiden crowned, thy scepter wield,
To guard the suppliant and the warrior’s shield.
Thy law is fate, thy throne above the skies,
Forever pure, eternal, and most wise.
Upon the throne where Kronos once had reigned,
Sits Zeus, by Dike’s righteous hand sustained.
No tyrant’s whim upheld his sovereign right,
But Justice armed him in the lawful fight.
She speaks: “I sit beside the throne divine,
Where Zeus exalts me, honour wholly mine.
I mark the just and bless their ordered ways,
And crown their years with uncorrupted days.
But in the proud, the reckless, and the base,
I carve their crimes on tablets none efface.
In time appointed, judgment I unroll,
And weigh the deeds of every mortal soul.”
The chorus asks: “What name shall we bestow?”
She answers: “Dike—all in heaven know.
I bend the proud, their insolence I tame,
And purge the cities blackened deep with shame.
Yet those who greet me kindly shall increase,
Their house made prosperous, their spirit peace.”
Thus Delphic voice proclaimed with clarion breath:
“Dike shall strangle Koros’ greedy death.
For Insolence begets a lawless son,
Whose end arrives when Justice’ work is done.”
Demosthenes proclaimed her holy might:
She guards the juror, sanctifies the right.
Eunomia walks with her, preserving lands,
And laws are stable in her watchful hands.
Plato bore witness: “Justice by his side,
Zeus walks, with Nemesis his faithful guide.
But he who spurns her, swollen with his pride,
Shall fall, abandoned, folly for his bride.
A seeming greatness blinds him for a span,
Till Dike brings the ruin due to man.”
And even Ares, Hera’s savage child,
Whose joy was bloodshed and whose nature wild,
She checked; for though he raged in cruel play,
No god escapes her balance or her sway.
O Dike, shining counsellor of Zeus,
Through thee alone is granted wise excuse.
Attend our city, keep our hearths secure,
And make the righteous life both just and pure.
Upon the heights she shines, the Maiden fair,
Who lifts the golden ear of corn in air.
Whether from star-born Astraios she came,
Or bore some other god’s immortal name,
Untroubled be her path across the skies,
Bright virgin Justice, seen by mortal eyes.
Of old she dwelt with men, serene, divine,
And sat among them at the market’s shrine;
Her voice, persuasive, stilled the strife of tongues,
And tuned the elders’ hearts to gentler songs.
Then men knew neither hate nor battle’s roar,
The sea lay hushed, untroubled was the shore;
The ox and plough supplied their daily bread,
And Peace with Justice blest the life they led.
But when the silver race their days began,
She came more seldom to the haunts of man;
From lofty hills she warned them of their shame,
And told what harsher generations came:
“Your sons shall bring forth wars, and blood, and woe;
The race declines, and darker still shall grow.”
She spoke, and upward fled the starry road,
And in the heavens took her changeless abode.
There still she flames, the Maiden pure, above,
Avenger stern, yet friend to those who love.
To thee, O Dike, we lift our prayerful song:
Rebuke the proud, and stay the hand of wrong;
But to the just thy gracious light impart,
And write thy laws in every faithful heart.
O Justice, maiden born of Zeus on high,
Whose lamp of truth no mortal fraud can buy.
Though mocked by men, as Philostratus told,
Thyself assailed by wrong, yet firm, yet bold.
When War and Strife in Oppian’s verse held sway,
Thy throne was lost, and mortals went astray.
Yet once again thou cam’st to hearth and hall,
The nurse of cities, hearing nations call.
Nonnus beheld thee at Electra’s side,
Bestowing Zeus’s sceptre, time-robed pride.
But Ovid sang: when Iron reigned on earth,
Thou, virgin last, forsook the land of birth.
Yet still in country fields thy footsteps shine,
As Virgil traced thy imprint half-divine.
Statius prayed thy glance from heaven above,
To guard the faithful, and to right with love.
Valerius hailed thee, witness stern and pure,
Who knows the guilty, yet makes vengeance sure.
O Dike, Justitia, by Fate decreed,
Defend the weak, and crush the tyrant’s greed.
Grant that our laws reflect thy light once more,
Till golden ages bless the world we bore.