Having described the doom cloud mankind lives under as he prays for the storm shield to tun its face away, Hesiod continues to sing to his brother, Perses. He is in the town of Ascra, which will be wiped out by the Thespians at a later time, as Hesiod will prophecy, that a town ruled by crooked judgment will suffer the wrath of Zeus, by the news from his daughter, Justice. This does indicate an allegory that right flows down the social latter from might.
“Now I tell a fable for the barons, who will well understand it. So the hawk addressed the dappled nightingale as he carried her high in the clouds, grasping her in his claws; impaled on the curved talons, she was weeping piteously, but he addressed her sternly as master:
“Why ever do you scream? You are in the grasp of a greater power, and you will go where I will, singer that you are. I will eat you for dinner if I like, or let you go. He is a fool that contests a power greater than his own: he both looses the struggle and suffers injury on top of insult.
“So spoke the swift-flying hawk, the long-winged bird.”
“But you, Perses, must seek Right and not promote violence. For violence is bad for a low man; not even the higher man can carry it easily, but he sinks under it as he runs into Blights.”
Hesiod does not just place his brother in a morally compromised position requiring reform, but places himself in the talons of the hawk, he being the “singer” in the avaricious clutches of the barons. His fable predicts his fate, murdered by young noblemen, as well as the fate of Ascra, wiped out by the heroic Thespians, these men perhaps citing Hesiod’s prophecy and fate as justification.
Hesiod reminds the listener that the spirits of the Golden Race watch over man from the earthly mists and report to Zeus, who will judge transgressors harshly.
“Beware of this, barons, and keep your pronouncements straight, you bribe-swallowers, and keep your judgments.”
Whistle blowing has never been safe bet, let alone a viable Iron Age strategy.
A standard axiom is presented:
“A man makes ill for himself who makes ill for another, and the ill design is most ill for the designer.”
Hesiod has presented an indictment and judgment, clothed in holy piety, of the local barons, who themselves might have included priests, and certainly numbered armed horsemen with armed bullies. He further, obviously due to this work’s preservation, sang this song far and wide, to neighboring sanctuary keepers at the Helicon Museum and perhaps in the market place, where he accuses Perses of spending too much of his time. Such a place would be frequented by people from neighboring towns, perhaps Thespia?
Hesiod had come to the attention of the Delphic Oracle, nearby navel of their metaphysical world. Twice he had been subject of a conspiracy, and once again, he would be killed by a third conspiracy, perhaps because he could not stop from “naming the wrong-doer,” who, like the hawk over the songbird, held all of the power between them. It is little wonder that Ovid, in exile from Rome, writing of fishing, and etching into his Metamorpheses numerous fables which seemed to beg for a savior of men on earth, adopted Hesiod’s metaphysical outlook despite their class division.
Despite his own example that hard work makes a man a target for the liar and the baron, Hesiod continues giving advice to his traitor brother:
“Inferiority can be got in droves, easily: the road is smooth and she lives near. But in front of Superiority, the immortal gods set sweat; it is a long and steep path to her, and rough at first.”
Perses, if lazy before, will now be steadfast in sloth, closing his mind before his brother sings of how, once achieved, Superiority supplies ease. In case Perses has been convinced, the following should wake him up to the fact that if he takes his brother’s advice, he will become like his brother, the target of liars and bandits:
“Work is not shameful, not working is shameful; and if you work it will come to pass that a workshy man will envy you.”
A common axiom is related, which does somewhat contradict Hesiod’s advice and would find favor with Achilles, who would certainly appropriate Hesiod’s surplus to feed his Myrmidons:
“Inhibition is no good provider for a needy man,
Inhibition, which does men much harm and much good.
Inhibition attaches to poverty, boldness to wealth.”
Advice on neighborly behavior is extensive and leads to another proverb:
“Be a friend to a friend,
keep company with he who seeks it.
Give to he who gives, and not to he who gives not:
to a giver one gives, to an ungiver none gives.”
Give is good, Snatch bad, a bringer of death.”
Giving is regarded as a masculine act, and taking a feminine act. Snatch is a minor Goddess, a child of Night that is the act of impulsive greed.
Hesiod brings out a passage pointed at whatever woman is gobbling his brother’s ill-gotten gains, by a method calculated to appeal to the wastrel man and bring him into hardy misogyny:
“At the uncorking of a jug, and at the dregs, take your fill, in the middle be sparing: parsimony at the bottom is mean.”
The other case in which men are “mean” is when they change friends often.
“Let the agreed wage for a man of good will be assured; and even with your brother, smile and bring a witness.”
Here, at the very dawn of Classical Civilization, in small town rural Hellas, honor is utterly gone from public life.
“Trust and mistrust alike have ruined men. Do not succumb to the charms of some shapely woman—it is your barn she is after; he who trusts a woman trusts cheaters.”
Hesiod suggests a single son for building family wealth and that having many sons may bring the blessings of Zeus, for “more, hands, more work, and greater surplus.”
This section transitions to homestead management with another proverb, as Works and Days transitions from a homily on right and wrong to something like a farmer’s almanac:
“When the Pleiades born of Atlas rise before the sun,
begin the reaping; the plowing when they set.”
“For forty nights and days they are hidden…”
