I normally start my reviews by quoting the second paragraph of the third chapter, or equivalent, but I’m going to save the second section of Book 3 of the Ephesian History to the end, because it deserves special treatment.

I was inspired to get hold of this because when I visited Gent last month, I was struck by Joseph Paelink’s The Fair Anthia Leading Her Companions to the Temple of Diana in Ephesus, which represents a scene from the first chapter, and inspired me to seek out the source material.

It’s the story of Anthia and Habrocomes (the ‘H’ tends to get dropped in translation), who fall in love and set off on a largely involuntary saga of travels around the Eastern Mediterranean, where they are shipwrecked, separated, kidnapped, threatened with seduction, encounter sultry pirates, brigands, merchants and merchant’s wives, believe each other to have died and are finally reunited. Sorry to spoil the ending, but this is a book written in about 200AD and anyway it’s about the journey, not the destination. It is a tremendous romp speaking from the heart of the Eastern Roman Empire and looking back to a more adventurous era. I have seen the Ἐφεσιακά described as the earliest known novel; I’d like to know more about the competitors for that title, but I can sense a format pushing at the boundaries and trying to find out what it can do.

You can easily get the 1727 translation by John Rooke on the Internet Archive. John Rooke also translated Arrian’s account of the campaigns of Alexander the Great, but little else is known of him. My eye was caught by a couple of sentences in the preface:

I muſt not however omit acquainting my Readers, that I have given a different Turn to one Paſſage, towards the beginning ot the third Book, becauſe it would not have ſounded well in an Engliſh Ear; and whatever Toleration the ancient Greeks might plead, it is entirely repugnant to the Genius and Cuſtoms of our Country. Whoſoever underſtands the Original may eaſily find out the Deviation, and to thoſe who do not, the Knowledge thereof is no ways material: This I only add, leſt any ſhould pretend to accuſe me for want of Skill in the Language, and take this Paſſage for a Handle.

Believe it or not, the passage in question is the very second chapter of Book III. Bear with me as I present it below in the original Greek and in Rooke’s translation. The context is that Habrocomas has fallen in with a hot bandit chap called Hippothous, who now tells his own origin story. I have added emphasis to a couple of key points.

»Ἐγὼ« ἔφη »εἰμὶ τὸ γένος πόλεως Περίνθου (πλησίον δὲ τῆς Θρᾴκης ἡ πόλις) τῶν τὰ πρῶτα ἐκεῖ δυναμένων· ἀκούεις δὲ καὶ τὴν Πέρινθον ὡς ἔνδοξος, καὶ τοὺς ἄνδρας ὡς εὐδαίμονες ἐνταῦθα. Ἐκεῖ νέος ὢν ἠράσθην μειρακίου καλοῦ· ἦν δὲ τὸ μειράκιον τῶν ἐπιχωρίων· ὄνομα Ὑπεράνθης ἦν αὐτῷ. Ἠράσθην δὲ τὰ πρῶτα ἐν γυμνασίοις διαπαλαίοντα ἰδὼν καὶ οὐκ ἐκαρτέρησα. Ἑορτῆς ἀγομένης ἐπιχωρίου καὶ παννυχίδος ἐπ´ αὐτῆς πρόσειμι τῷ Ὑπεράνθῃ καὶ ἱκετεύω κατοικτεῖραι· ἀκοῦσαν δὲ τὸ μειράκιον πάντα ὑπισχνεῖται κατελεῆσάν με. Καὶ τὰ πρῶτά γε τοῦ ἔρωτος ὁδοιπορεῖ φιλήματα καὶ ψαύσματα καὶ πολλὰ παρ´ ἐμοῦ δάκρυα· τέλος δὲ ἠδυνήθημεν καιροῦ λαβόμενοι γενέσθαι μετ´ ἀλλήλων μόνοι καὶ τὸ τῆς ἡλικίας {ἀλλήλοις} ἀνύποπτον ἦν.	“My Birth,” says he, “I owe to Perinthus, a City near the Confines of Thrace, and I am one of her chief Citizens: You must have heard how famous a City Perinthus is, and how rich her Inhabitants. Whilst a Youth, I was struck with the Charms of a fair Virgin there, whose Name was Hyperanthe. When first I saw her lead up the Perinthian Maids in a Dance, I lov’d her, nor could contain my self longer than the Time when the Vigils of her Country’s Festival were solemniz’d. ’Twas then I approach’d her, and entreated her to be favourable to me. She no sooner heard my Moan, than she inclin’d to Pity, and promis’d whatever she might. Our first Loves begun with Kisses, Embraces, and many Tears from my Eyes. Afterwards, we could upon Occasion, retire from the World, and enjoy each other’s Converse, without Suspicion, by Reason of our tender Years.
Καὶ χρόνῳ συνῆμεν πολλῷ, στέργοντες ἀλλήλους διαφερόντως, ἕως δαίμων τις ἡμῖν ἐνεμέσησε. Καὶ ἔρχεταί τις ἀπὸ Βυζαντίου (πλησίον δὲ τὸ Βυζάντιον τῇ Περίνθῳ) ἀνὴρ τῶν τὰ πρῶτα ἐκεῖ δυναμένων, {ὃς} ἐπὶ πλούτῳ καὶ περιουσίᾳ μέγα φρονῶν· Ἀριστόμαχος ἐκαλεῖτο. Οὗτος ἐπιβὰς εὐθὺς τῇ Περίνθῳ, ὡς ὑπό τινος ἀπεσταλμένος κατ´ ἐμοῦ θεοῦ, ὁρᾷ τὸν Ὑπεράνθην σὺν ἐμοὶ καὶ εὐθέως ἁλίσκεται, τοῦ μειρακίου θαυμάσας τὸ κάλλος, πάντα ὁντινοῦν ἐπάγεσθαι δυνάμενον. Ἐρασθεὶς δὲ οὐκέτι μετρίως κατεῖχε τὸν ἔρωτα, ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν πρῶτα τῷ μειρακίῳ προσέπεμπεν· ὡς δὲ ἀνήνυτον ἦν αὐτῷ (ὁ γὰρ Ὑπεράνθης διὰ τὴν πρὸς ἐμὲ εὔνοιαν οὐδένα προσίετο), πείθει τὸν πατέρα αὐτοῦ, πονηρὸν ἄνδρα καὶ ἐλάττονα χρημάτων· ὁ δὲ αὐτῷ δίδωσι τὸν Ὑπεράνθην προφάσει διδασκαλίας· ἔλεγε γὰρ εἶναι λόγων τεχνίτης.	Long had we indulg’d our selves with this Freedom, and long had we passionately lov’d each other, when some God envy’d our Happiness. For from Byzantium, which is not far distant from Perinthus, arriv’d a certain Man, named Aristomachus, one of the chief of the Place, fam’d for Wealth, and a haughty Carriage. He had scarce enter’d the City, but (as if by the Direction of some God) he fix’d his Eyes on Hyperanthe, then in my Company, and was instantly struck with Surprize at her Beauty, which indeed was most astonishing. He was desperately in Love, and unable to restrain the Violence of his Passion, and therefore declar’d himself first to the Virgin, but finding no Encouragement there, she rejecting his Suit, because of her steady Affection to me, he perswades her Father, a Man cruel and covetous, to commit her to his Care for her Instruction, he presenting to teach her the rules of exact Behaviour.
Παραλαβὼν δὲ αὐτὸν τὰ μὲν πρῶτα κατάκλειστον εἶχε, μετὰ τοῦτο δὲ ἀπῆρεν ἐς Βυζάντιον. Εἱπόμην κἀγώ, πάντων καταφρονήσας τῶν ἐμαυτοῦ, καὶ ὅσα ἐδυνάμην συνήμην τῷ μειρακίῳ· ἐδυνάμην δὲ ὀλίγα, καί μοι φίλημα σπάνιον ἐγίνετο καὶ λαλιὰ δυσχερής· ἐφρουρούμην δὲ ὑπὸ πολλῶν. Τελευταῖον οὐκέτι καρτερῶν, ἐμαυτὸν παροξύνας ἐπάνειμι εἰς Πέρινθον καὶ πάντα ὅσα ἦν μοι κτήματα ἀποδόμενος, συλλέξας ἄργυρον εἰς Βυζάντιον ἔρχομαι καὶ λαβὼν ξιφίδιον (συνδοκοῦν τοῦτο καὶ τῷ Ὑπεράνθῃ) εἴσειμι νύκτωρ εἰς τὴν οἰκίαν τοῦ Ἀριστομάχου καὶ εὑρίσκω συγκατακείμενον τῷ παιδὶ καὶ ὀργῆς πλησθεὶς παίω τὸν Ἀριστόμαχον καιρίαν. Ἡσυχίας δὲ οὔσης καὶ πάντων ἀναπαυομένων ἔξειμι ὡς εἶχον λαθών, ἐπαγόμενος καὶ τὸν Ὑπεράνθην, καὶ δι´ ὅλης νυκτὸς ὁδεύσας εἰς Πέρινθον, εὐθὺς νεὼς ἐπιβὰς οὐδενὸς εἰδότος ἔπλεον εἰς Ἀσίαν.	He no sooner gain’d his Wishes, than he first shut her up at Perinthus, and afterwards convey’d her to Byzantium. I follow’d; and leaving all my other Affairs, whenever Occasion offer’d, I never fail’d to visit her. But these Opportunities rarely happening, our Kisses became less frequent, and our Converse more difficult, for we were strictly watch’d. At last, able to endure this no longer, I fix’d my Resolution, went to Perinthus, dispos’d of all my Effects there, took the Money, and return’d to Byzantium, where (by Hyperanthe’s consent) with Sword in hand I enter’d the House of Aristomachus, by Night, burning with Wrath, and gave him his Death’s Wound, as he lay encircled in her Arms. All Things being then hush’d in Silence, I escap’d unperceiv’d, carrying my Hyperanthe with me, and reaching Perinthus that Night, we embark’d directly on board a Ship, which lay ready for us, and every Body being ignorant of what had happen’d, we design’d to pass over into Asia.
Καὶ μέχρι μέν τινος διήνυστο εὐτυχῶς ὁ πλοῦς· τελευταῖον δὲ κατὰ Λέσβον ἡμῖν γενομένοις ἐμπίπτει πνεῦμα σφοδρὸν καὶ ἀνατρέπει τὴν ναῦν. Κἀγὼ μὲν τῷ Ὑπεράνθῃ συνενηχόμην ὑπιὼν αὐτῷ καὶ κουφοτέραν τὴν νῆξιν ἐποιούμην· νυκτὸς δὲ γενομένης οὐκέτι ἐνεγκὸν τὸ μειράκιον παρείθη τῷ κολύμβῳ καὶ ἀποθνῄσκει. Ἐγὼ δὲ τοσοῦτον ἠδυνήθην τὸ σῶμα διασῶσαι ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν καὶ θάψαι· καὶ πολλὰ δακρύσας καὶ στενάξας, ἀφελὼν λείψανα καὶ δυνηθεὶς εὐπορῆσαί που ἑνὸς ἐπιτηδείου λίθου στήλην ἐπέστησα τῷ τάφῳ καὶ ἐπέγραψα εἰς μνήμην τοῦ δυστυχοῦς μειρακίου ἐπίγραμμα παρ´ αὐτὸν ἐκεῖνον τὸν καιρὸν πλασάμενος Ἱππόθοος κλεινῷ τεῦξεν τόδε σῆμ´	The Beginning of our Voyage was pleasant enough, but after we had pass’d by the Island Lesbos, a violent Gust of Wind attack’d us, and overset our Ship. I, with my Hyperanthe, endeavour’d to reach the Shore by Swimming, and whilst I supported her, my own Labour seem’d the less, but Night coming on, and my fair one’s Strength and Spirits failing, she perish’d in the Waves. I, with some Difficulty, drew her Body on Shore, and gave her Burial. I sigh’d deeply, and shed many Tears over her, and not having Time to erect a Monument, happen’d, by Chance, to find a Stone, fit for the Purpose, which I plac’d over her, and whereon I engrav’d this extempore Epigram, to the Memory of her unhappy Fate.”
Ὑπεράνθῃ, οὐ τάφον ἐκ θανάτου ἀγαθὸν ἱεροῖο πολίτου ἐς βάθος ἐκ γαίης, ἄνθος κλυτόν, ὅν ποτε δαίμων ἥρπασεν ἐν πελάγει μεγάλου πνεύσαντος ἀήτου.	For ever sacred be this Place      To Hyperanthe’s Name, Hippothous no Tomb can raise,      Thy Beauties to proclaim. My fairest Flower, alas! is fled,      By faithless Winds opprest, Remorseless Waves roll’d o’er thy Head      And robb’d thy Mate of Rest.
Τοὐντεῦθεν δὲ εἰς μὲν Πέρινθον ἐλθεῖν οὐ διέγνων, ἐτράπην δὲ δι´ Ἀσίας ἐπὶ Φρυγίαν τὴν μεγάλην καὶ Παμφυλίαν· κἀνταῦθα ἀπορίᾳ βίου καὶ ἀθυμίᾳ τῆς συμφορᾶς ἐπέδωκα ἐμαυτὸν λῃστηρίῳ. Καὶ τὰ μὲν πρῶτα ὑπηρέτης λῃστηρίου γενόμενος, τὸ τελευταῖον {δὲ} περὶ Κιλικίαν αὐτὸς συνεστησάμην λῃστήριον, εὐδοκιμῆσαν ἐπὶ πολύ, ἕως ἐλήφθησαν οἱ σὺν ἐμοὶ οὐ πρὸ πολλοῦ τοῦ σε ἰδεῖν. Αὕτη μὲν ἡ τῶν ἐμῶν διηγημάτων τύχη· σὺ δέ, ὦ φίλτατε, εἰπέ μοι τὰ ἑαυτοῦ· δῆλος γὰρ εἶ μεγάλῃ τινὶ ἀνάγκῃ τῇ κατὰ τὴν πλάνην χρώμενος«.	“From that Time, I resolv’d not to return to Perinthus any more, and therefore directed my Course into the greater Phrygia and Pamphilia, where, distress’d by Want, and disorder’d in Mind, I betook my self to Robbing. I serv’d, at first, as a Guard to the Party to which I belonged, but having, afterwards, gather’d 62a Band of my own, in Cilicia; I became famous, ’till, at last, all my Companions were surpriz’d and slain, or taken, a little before I saw you. This is a brief Account of my Adventures: Now, my Friend, oblige me with yours, for you seem driven by some strange Necessity to travel.”

From the English translation alone, it’s a fairly standard story of love gone tragically wrong, one of several in the course of the Ἐφεσιακά. But the part that Rooke felt he could not translate directly into English is this: in the original Greek, it’s absolutely clear that Hippothous fell in love, not with a beautiful young girl called Hyperanthe but with a beautiful young boy called Hyperanthes (incidentally otherwise recorded only as a Persian name). He didn’t see a young girl dancing with the other maidens; he saw a beautiful young man (μειράκιον) exercising in the gymnasium (πρῶτα ἐν γυμνασίοις διαπαλαίοντα). This was what Rooke felt “entirely repugnant to the Genius and Cuſtoms of our Country”. It’s not the only case of same-sex romance (let alone lust) in the Ἐφεσιακά, but it’s the one where the reader is most clearly meant to sympathise with the unhappy lover. Incidentally the 1797 translation into French is perfectly clear that Hyperanthes is a boy.

Hyperanthes‘ epitaph in the English translation bears very little resemblance to the Greek original, except that the dead youth is compared to a flower in both, the name being an obvious enough play on ἄνθος meaning ‘flower’.

Anyway, this short romp from an earlier age is well worth seeking out. I have linked to the Rooke translation and the French version above, but there is also an educational edition which you can get here.