The Samaritan Woman at the Well ... an icon in the Church of Aghios Nikolaos in Vathy on the Greek island of Samos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
John 4: 1-42
1 Ὡς οὖν ἔγνω ὁ Ἰησοῦς ὅτι ἤκουσαν οἱ Φαρισαῖοι ὅτι Ἰησοῦς πλείονας μαθητὰς ποιεῖ καὶ βαπτίζει ἢ Ἰωάννης - 2 καίτοιγε Ἰησοῦς αὐτὸς οὐκ ἐβάπτιζεν, ἀλλ' οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ - 3 ἀφῆκε τὴν Ἰουδαίαν καὶ ἀπῆλθεν εἰς τὴν Γαλιλαίαν. 4 Ἔδει δὲ αὐτὸν διέρχεσθαι διὰ τῆς Σαμαρείας. 5 ἔρχεται οὖν εἰς πόλιν τῆς Σαμαρείας λεγομένην Συχὰρ, πλησίον τοῦ χωρίου ὃ ἔδωκεν Ἰακὼβ Ἰωσὴφ τῷ υἱῷ αὐτοῦ. 6 ἦν δὲ ἐκεῖ πηγὴ τοῦ Ἰακώβ. ὁ οὖν Ἰησοῦς κεκοπιακὼς ἐκ τῆς ὁδοιπορίας ἐκαθέζετο οὕτως ἐπὶ τῇ πηγῇ· ὥρα ἦν ὡσεὶ ἕκτη.
7 ἔρχεται γυνὴ ἐκ τῆς Σαμαρείας ἀντλῆσαι ὕδωρ. λέγει αὐτῇ ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Δός μοι πιεῖν. 8 οἱ γὰρ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ ἀπεληλύθεισαν εἰς τὴν πόλιν, ἵνα τροφὰς ἀγοράσωσι. 9 λέγει οὖν αὐτῷ ἡ γυνὴ ἡ Σαμαρεῖτις· Πῶς σὺ Ἰουδαῖος ὢν παρ' ἐμοῦ πιεῖν αἰτεῖς, οὔσης γυναικὸς Σαμαρείτιδος ; οὐ γὰρ συγχρῶνται Ἰουδαῖοι Σαμαρείταις. 10 ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῇ· Εἰ ᾔδεις τὴν δωρεὰν τοῦ Θεοῦ καὶ τίς ἐστιν ὁ λέγων σοι, δός μοι πιεῖν, σὺ ἂν ᾔτησας αὐτὸν, καὶ ἔδωκεν ἄν σοι ὕδωρ ζῶν. 11 λέγει αὐτῷ ἡ γυνή· Κύριε, οὔτε ἄντλημα ἔχεις, καὶ τὸ φρέαρ ἐστὶ βαθύ· πόθεν οὖν ἔχεις τὸ ὕδωρ τὸ ζῶν; 12 μὴ σὺ μείζων εἶ τοῦ πατρὸς ἡμῶν Ἰακώβ, ὃς ἔδωκεν ἡμῖν τὸ φρέαρ, καὶ αὐτὸς ἐξ αὐτοῦ ἔπιε καὶ οἱ υἱοὶ αὐτοῦ καὶ τὰ θρέμματα αὐτοῦ; 13 ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῇ· Πᾶς ὁ πίνων ἐκ τοῦ ὕδατος τούτου διψήσει πάλιν· 14 ὃς δ' ἂν πίῃ ἐκ τοῦ ὕδατος οὗ ἐγὼ δώσω αὐτῷ, οὐ μὴ διψήσει εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα, ἀλλὰ τὸ ὕδωρ ὃ δώσω αὐτῷ, γενήσεται ἐν αὐτῷ πηγὴ ὕδατος ἁλλομένου εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον. 15 λέγει πρὸς αὐτὸν ἡ γυνή· Κύριε, δός μοι τοῦτο τὸ ὕδωρ, ἵνα μὴ διψῶ μηδὲ ἔρχομαι ἐνθάδε ἀντλεῖν.
16 λέγει αὐτῇ ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Ὕπαγε φώνησον τὸν ἄνδρα σου καὶ ἐλθὲ ἐνθάδε. 17 ἀπεκρίθη ἡ γυνὴ καὶ εἶπεν· Οὐκ ἔχω ἄνδρα. λέγει αὐτῇ ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Καλῶς εἶπας ὅτι ἄνδρα οὐκ ἔχω· 18 πέντε γὰρ ἄνδρας ἔσχες, καὶ νῦν ὃν ἔχεις οὐκ ἔστι σου ἀνήρ· τοῦτο ἀληθὲς εἴρηκας. 19 λέγει αὐτῷ ἡ γυνή· Κύριε, θεωρῶ ὅτι προφήτης εἶ σύ. 20 οἱ πατέρες ἡμῶν ἐν τῷ ὄρει τούτῳ προσεκύνησαν· καὶ ὑμεῖς λέγετε ὅτι ἐν Ἱεροσολύμοις ἐστὶν ὁ τόπος ὅπου δεῖ προσκυνεῖν. 21 λέγει αὐτῇ ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Γύναι, πίστευσόν μοι ὅτι ἔρχεται ὥρα ὅτε οὔτε ἐν τῷ ὄρει τούτῳ οὔτε ἐν Ἱεροσολύμοις προσκυνήσετε τῷ πατρί. 22 ὑμεῖς προσκυνεῖτε ὃ οὐκ οἴδατε, ἡμεῖς προσκυνοῦμεν ὃ οἴδαμεν· ὅτι ἡ σωτηρία ἐκ τῶν Ἰουδαίων ἐστίν. 23 ἀλλ' ἔρχεται ὥρα, καὶ νῦν ἐστιν, ὅτε οἱ ἀληθινοὶ προσκυνηταὶ προσκυνήσουσι τῷ πατρὶ ἐν πνεύματι καὶ ἀληθείᾳ· καὶ γὰρ ὁ πατὴρ τοιούτους ζητεῖ τοὺς προσκυνοῦντας αὐτόν. 24 πνεῦμα ὁ Θεός, καὶ τοὺς προσκυνοῦντας αὐτὸν ἐν πνεύματι καὶ ἀληθείᾳ δεῖ προσκυνεῖν. 25 λέγει αὐτῷ ἡ γυνή· Οἶδα ὅτι Μεσσίας ἔρχεται ὁ λεγόμενος Χριστός· ὅταν ἔλθῃ ἐκεῖνος, ἀναγγελεῖ ἡμῖν πάντα. 26 λέγει αὐτῇ ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Ἐγώ εἰμι, ὁ λαλῶν σοι.
27 καὶ ἐπὶ τούτῳ ἦλθαν οἱ μαθηταὶ αὐτοῦ, καὶ ἐθαύμασαν ὅτι μετὰ γυναικὸς ἐλάλει· οὐδεὶς μέντοι εἶπε, τί ζητεῖς ἤ τί λαλεῖς μετ' αὐτῆς; 28 Ἀφῆκεν οὖν τὴν ὑδρίαν αὐτῆς ἡ γυνὴ καὶ ἀπῆλθεν εἰς τὴν πόλιν, καὶ λέγει τοῖς ἀνθρώποις· 29 Δεῦτε ἴδετε ἄνθρωπον ὃς εἶπέ μοι πάντα ὅσα ἐποίησα· μήτι οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ Χριστός; 30 ἐξῆλθον οὖν ἐκ τῆς πόλεως καὶ ἤρχοντο πρὸς αὐτόν.
31 Ἐν δὲ τῷ μεταξὺ ἠρώτων αὐτὸν οἱ μαθηταὶ λέγοντες· Ραββί, φάγε. 32 ὁ δὲ εἶπεν αὐτοῖς· Ἐγὼ βρῶσιν ἔχω φαγεῖν, ἣν ὑμεῖς οὐκ οἴδατε. 33 ἔλεγον οὖν οἱ μαθηταὶ πρὸς ἀλλήλους· Μή τις ἤνεγκεν αὐτῷ φαγεῖν; 34 λέγει αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς· Ἐμὸν βρῶμά ἐστιν ἵνα ποιῶ τὸ θέλημα τοῦ πέμψαντός με καὶ τελειώσω αὐτοῦ τὸ ἔργον. 35 οὐχ ὑμεῖς λέγετε ὅτι ἔτι τετράμηνός ἐστι καὶ ὁ θερισμὸς ἔρχεται; ἰδοὺ λέγω ὑμῖν, ἐπάρατε τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς ὑμῶν καὶ θεάσασθε τὰς χώρας, ὅτι λευκαί εἰσι πρὸς θερισμόν. ἤδη. 36 καὶ ὁ θερίζων μισθὸν λαμβάνει καὶ συνάγει καρπὸν εἰς ζωὴν αἰώνιον, ἵνα καὶ ὁ σπείρων ὁμοῦ χαίρῃ καὶ ὁ θερίζων. 37 ἐν γὰρ τούτῳ ὁ λόγος ἐστὶν ὁ ἀληθινὸς, ὅτι ἄλλος ἐστὶν ὁ σπείρων καὶ ἄλλος ὁ θερίζων. 38 ἐγὼ ἀπέστειλα ὑμᾶς θερίζειν ὃ οὐχ ὑμεῖς κεκοπιάκατε· ἄλλοι κεκοπιάκασι, καὶ ὑμεῖς εἰς τὸν κόπον αὐτῶν εἰσεληλύθατε.
39 Ἐκ δὲ τῆς πόλεως ἐκείνης πολλοὶ ἐπίστευσαν εἰς αὐτὸν τῶν Σαμαρειτῶν διὰ τὸν λόγον τῆς γυναικὸς, μαρτυρούσης ὅτι εἶπέ μοι πάντα ὅσα ἐποίησα. 40 ὡς οὖν ἦλθον πρὸς αὐτὸν οἱ Σαμαρεῖται, ἠρώτων αὐτὸν μεῖναι παρ' αὐτοῖς· καὶ ἔμεινεν ἐκεῖ δύο ἡμέρας. 41 καὶ πολλῷ πλείους ἐπίστευσαν διὰ τὸν λόγον αὐτοῦ, 42 τῇ τε γυναικὶ ἔλεγον ὅτι οὐκέτι διὰ τὴν σὴν λαλιὰν πιστεύομεν· αὐτοὶ γὰρ ἀκηκόαμεν, καὶ οἴδαμεν ὅτι οὗτός ἐστιν ἀληθῶς ὁ σωτὴρ τοῦ κόσμου.
1 Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard, ‘Jesus is making and baptizing more disciples than John’ — 2 although it was not Jesus himself but his disciples who baptized — 3 he left Judea and started back to Galilee. 4 But he had to go through Samaria. 5 So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.
7 A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, ‘Give me a drink’. 8 (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) 9 The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?’ (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) 10 Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink”, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.’ 11 The woman said to him, ‘Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12 Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?’ 13 Jesus said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14 but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’ 15 The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.’
16 Jesus said to her, ‘Go, call your husband, and come back.’ 17 The woman answered him, ‘I have no husband.’ Jesus said to her, ‘You are right in saying, “I have no husband”; 18 for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!’ 19 The woman said to him, ‘Sir, I see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.’ 21 Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. 24 God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.’ 25 The woman said to him, ‘I know that Messiah is coming’ (who is called Christ). ‘When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.’ 26 Jesus said to her, ‘I am he,* the one who is speaking to you.’
27 Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, ‘What do you want?’ or, ‘Why are you speaking with her?’ 28 Then the woman left her water-jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, 29 ‘Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?’ 30 They left the city and were on their way to him.
31 Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, ‘Rabbi, eat something.’ 32 But he said to them, ‘I have food to eat that you do not know about.’ 33 So the disciples said to one another, ‘Surely no one has brought him something to eat?’ 34 Jesus said to them, ‘My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. 35 Do you not say, “Four months more, then comes the harvest”? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. 36 The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. 37 For here the saying holds true, “One sows and another reaps.” 38 I sent you to reap that for which you did not labour. Others have laboured, and you have entered into their labour.’
39 Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me everything I have ever done.’ 40 So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there for two days. 41 And many more believed because of his word. 42 They said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Saviour of the world.’
A traditional Greek Orthodox icon of Christ with the Samaritan woman at the well
Introduction:
The Samaritans are religious and cultural outsiders for the Jewish people in the New Testament period. Although these two people share the same land, the Samaritans are strangers and outsiders. Although they share faith in the same God and share the same Torah (the first five books of the Bible), the Samaritans are seen as having a different religion. But Jesus tries to break down those barriers.
For example, the Good Samaritan is not a stranger but is the very best example of a good neighbour (Luke 10: 29-37). Among the Ten Lepers who are healed, only the Samaritan returns to give thanks, and this “foreigner” is praised for his faith (Luke 17: 11-19).
The Samaritan woman at the well:
In this story in Saint John’s Gospel, the Disciples are already doing something unusual: they have gone into the city to buy food; but this is no ordinary city – this is a Samaritan city, and any food they might buy from Samaritans is going to be unclean according to Jewish ritual standards.
While the Disciples are in Sychar, Jesus sits down by Jacob’s Well, and begins talking with a Samaritan woman who comes to the well for water. And their conversation becomes a model for how we respond to the stranger in our midst, wther they are foreigners or people of a different religion or culture.
Jesus presents the classical Jewish perception of what Samaritans believe and how they worship. The Samaritans accepted only the first five books of the Bible – the Pentateuch or Torah – as revealed scripture. For their part, Jews of the day pilloried this Samaritan refusal to accept more than the first five books of the Bible by claiming the Samaritans worshipped not one the one God revealed in the five books but five gods. Jesus alludes to this – with a sense of humour – when he says the woman had five husbands.
In other circumstances, a Jewish man would have refused to talk to a Samaritan woman or to accept a drink form her hands; any self-respecting Samaritan woman would have felt she had been slighted by these comments and walked away immediately. Instead, the two continue in their dialogue: they talk openly and humorously with one another, and listen to one another.
Jesus gets to know the woman and she gets to know Jesus.
All dialogue involves both speaking and listening – speaking with the expectation that we will be heard, and listening honestly to what the other person is saying rather than listening to what our prejudices tell us they ought to say.
When the Disciples arrive back, they are filled with a number of questions but are so shocked by what is happening before them that they remain silent. Their silence reflects their inability to reach out to the stranger.
But there are other hints at their failure and their prejudices: the woman gives and receives water as she and Jesus talk, but they fail to return with bread for Jesus to eat and they fail to feed into the conversation about faith and about life.
They are still questioning and unable to articulate their faith, but the woman at least recognises Jesus as a Prophet. They made no contact with the people in Sychar, but she rushes back to tell the people there about Jesus. No one in the city was brought to Jesus by the disciples, but many Samaritans listened to what the woman had to say.
A note on tradition
Orthodox tradition names the woman at the well in John 4 as Saint Photini (Svetlana in Russian), and honours her as “Equal to the Apostles.” Her name means “light,” because she received the light from the Christ the Light-Giver, and she spread it wherever she went.
It is said that she was baptised after the resurrection.
Her two sons, Victor and Josiah, and her five sisters, Anatolia, Phota, Photida, Paraskeva and Kyriake, all followed her into faith in Christ and her zealous apostolic witness, ministry and mission. They went to Carthage in North Africa, and there they were arrested for sharing the Gospel. They were taken to Rome to suffer before Nero.
It is also said that Saint Photini brought Nero’s daughter, Domnina, to faith in Christ. All of them were martyred after being cast into prison and being tortured at the hands of Nero’s officers.
Because of her testimony, it is said, Saint Photini was thrown into a well, and buried alive in Smyrna in Anatolia, the location of one of the Seven Churches of the Book of Revelation. And so she thus entered into the Kingdom of the never-ending Day of the Lord.
Points for discussion:
The Samaritan woman at the Well is known in Orthodox tradition as Saint Photini
The conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman is a model for all our encounters with people we see as different or as strangers.
Am I like the Disciples, and too hesitant to go over and engage in conversation with the stranger who is at the same well, in the same shop, at the same bus stop?
If I am going to enter into conversation with the stranger, am I open to listening to them, to talking openly and honestly with them about where they come from and what they believe?
When the conversation is over, will they remain strangers?
How open am I to new friendships?
Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay is based on notes prepared for a Bible study with B.Th. and M.Th. students in a tutorial group on 9 December 2009.
09 December 2009
‘Come to me … for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’
‘Come to me … for my … burden is light’ (Photograph: Greg Tonks)
Patrick Comerford
8.30 a.m., Wednesday 9 December 2009, Said Eucharist: Isaiah 40: 25-31; Psalm 103: 1-10; Matthew 11: 28-30.
May I speak to you in the name of + the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Our Gospel reading in the lectionary this morning is particularly short. So you will glad that this only a short reflection, a very short reflection, and not really a sermon.
But it’s a very appropriate reading as you try to balance your lives at the end of a very long term, between finishing assignments and essays, and getting ready for Christmas at home.
I’m sure some of you are feeling exhausted at this stage, and some of you may even feel that you are the end of your tethers.
But the offer and the promise in this morning’s Gospel reading hold out hope.
In the law of contract, there are two important elements … offer and acceptance.
This morning Christ invites all of us who are tired, frazzled and bothered, weary and heavy-laden, to come to him and if we do he offers us rest. There’s the offer.
What about acceptance?
He simply asks that we take his yoke and learn from him.
Ah, but I can hear you say: “What about the terms and conditions?”
As you know – as the banks and our mobile phone services constantly remind us – all contracts are subject to terms and conditions.
Well the terms and conditions are simple: for his yoke is easy and his burden is light.
I still remember how the former Dean of Lismore, Bill Beare, once challenged a clergy meeting in the Diocese of Cashel and Ossory in words like: Who said you couldn’t dump everything at the foot of the cross.
This evening, I hope we have a wonderful evening, all of us, at the Carol Service. Try to dump everything at the foot of the cross during the day so that you can relax and enjoy this evening.
And then try to do it every day. And enjoy the promise of Advent and the look forward to the hope that is born at Christmas.
And so, may all we think, say and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This reflection was shared at the Morning Eucharist in the institute chapel on Wednesday, 9 December 2009.
Patrick Comerford
8.30 a.m., Wednesday 9 December 2009, Said Eucharist: Isaiah 40: 25-31; Psalm 103: 1-10; Matthew 11: 28-30.
May I speak to you in the name of + the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Our Gospel reading in the lectionary this morning is particularly short. So you will glad that this only a short reflection, a very short reflection, and not really a sermon.
But it’s a very appropriate reading as you try to balance your lives at the end of a very long term, between finishing assignments and essays, and getting ready for Christmas at home.
I’m sure some of you are feeling exhausted at this stage, and some of you may even feel that you are the end of your tethers.
But the offer and the promise in this morning’s Gospel reading hold out hope.
In the law of contract, there are two important elements … offer and acceptance.
This morning Christ invites all of us who are tired, frazzled and bothered, weary and heavy-laden, to come to him and if we do he offers us rest. There’s the offer.
What about acceptance?
He simply asks that we take his yoke and learn from him.
Ah, but I can hear you say: “What about the terms and conditions?”
As you know – as the banks and our mobile phone services constantly remind us – all contracts are subject to terms and conditions.
Well the terms and conditions are simple: for his yoke is easy and his burden is light.
I still remember how the former Dean of Lismore, Bill Beare, once challenged a clergy meeting in the Diocese of Cashel and Ossory in words like: Who said you couldn’t dump everything at the foot of the cross.
This evening, I hope we have a wonderful evening, all of us, at the Carol Service. Try to dump everything at the foot of the cross during the day so that you can relax and enjoy this evening.
And then try to do it every day. And enjoy the promise of Advent and the look forward to the hope that is born at Christmas.
And so, may all we think, say and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This reflection was shared at the Morning Eucharist in the institute chapel on Wednesday, 9 December 2009.
Remembering The Irish House and James Comerford
James Comerford … Victorian stucco artist and architect, he designed The Irish House on the corner of Winetavern Street and Wood Quay, Dublin (Comerford Family Collection)
Patrick Comerford
Friends, past, present and future. What an honour it is to be asked to launch this publication this afternoon.
Personal pride, family pride, civic pride and cultural pride are all playing together in my emotions this evening, bouncing off each other.
At a personal level, I have always been aware of and proud of the work of my great-grandfather, James Comerford, in making a key contribution as a stucco artist to the Victorian arts and crafts movement in Ireland. His name and his memory continue in the family, so that my eldest son, his great-great-grandson, is also called James Comerford. And so, I am honoured, delighted – indeed thrilled – that Geraldine Walsh and Graham Hickey asked me to be involved in launching this comprehensive and beautifully-illustrated publication this evening.
The invitation to the Christmas launch in the Dublin Civic Trust
James Comerford was only a boy of eight at the time of the death of his father, who had witnessed the 1798 Rising in Co Wexford, whose portrait had been painted in 1808 by the great miniaturist, John Comerford, and who was buried in 1825 in Saint Colman’s, the Church of Ireland Churchyard in Templeshanbo.
James would inherit his father’s radical political and social values. But at an early age he depended on his older brothers, Richard and Robert, and all three prospered with the fashion for Gothic Revival architecture, introduced to Co Wexford by Richard Pierce, who built the new churches in Newtownbarry and neighbouring Kilmyshall, and by the great Pugin.
Having worked in Enniscorthy and Wexford, and other Pugin and Pierce churches throughout Co Wexford, James came to Dublin around 1852, in his mid-30s. The Twin Churches, in Rowe Street and Bride Street, were at an advanced stage of building in Wexford that year, a triumph for Richard Pierce in his career as an architect. This is the year Pugin died; but this too is the year in which the Gothic Revival becomes the great fashion statement in church architecture in Dublin: JJ McCarthy starts work in 1852 on Saint Catherine’s Church in Meath Street, Saint Saviour’s Church in Dominick Street and Star of the Sea Church in Sandymount.
Gothic Revival became the fashion for Churches in city centre Dublin from the 1850s on, totally eclipsing the previous fashion for Classical-style churches, and dismissing Cardinal Newman’s hopes for Byzantine-style churches.
While James was working on John’s Lane Church for Pugin and Ashlin and on Saint Kevin’s Church near Kelly’s Corner for George Ashlin, he lived within walking distance of both in Redmond’s Hill, where my grandfather, Stephen Edward Comerford was born in December 1867. And it was at this time that Patrick O’Kelly realised how his talents could be combined with those of William Burnett to create his “Byzantine casket.” Indeed, I sometimes wonder how Newman would have taken to Curran’s later description of The Irish House as a “Byzantine Casket.”
There were others who were assertively dismissive of The Irish House. Famously, The Irish Builder on 1 June 1870, raged against The Irish House as yet another “gin palace,” describing the “round towers” as “ludicrous imitations,” and the whole building as “the production of some juvenile anxious to try his ‘prentice hand,’ who has derived all his architectural knowledge from enlarging details upon a panel in a carpenter’s workshop .”
For this anonymous critic, The Irish House was the product of “misapplied taste,” and the round towers, in their “contaminated “state” would be better toppling into “the fetid waters of the Liffey.”
That anonymous writer remains unknown. On the other hand, this exhibition and this collection of essays show that Burnett and Comerford, far from being prentice hands with juvenile anxiety, were making an important cultural contribution to the life of their adopted city.
The Irish House shortly before its demolition ... it represented the pinnacle of James Comerford’s career as a stucco artist
CP Cavafy wrote a wonderful poem in 1904 about the elders of a Byzantine city waiting at the gates for the Barbarians, who are to come today (Waiting for the Barbarians, Περιμένοντας τους βαρβάρους). But the Barbarians were within our city gates just over a generation ago, for as we all know ever since, the destruction of The Irish House is merely one detail in the overall Barbarian destruction of the Wood Quay site.
I thought for a long time after the destruction of Wood Quay that The Irish House was forgotten by all but a few, brave hearts, such as Sean Lynch and Peter Walsh. But this exhibition, this publication, and the wonderful work of the Dublin Civic Trust have rescued and redeemed its memory, the memory of William Burnett and James Comerford, and their place in our artistic, cultural, social, political and religious thinking.
Culturally, these essays and this exhibition place The Irish House firmly within the Celtic Revival and Celtic Romantic Movement.
Indeed, as an icon, The Irish House was not so much a reaction to or a product of these movements, but played an important role as a catalyst in them. Try to visualise its place in a timeline for these movements. The Irish House, with its six Round Towers sticking into the sky, was built in 1870 – four years before the Round Tower in Glendalough was restored and recapped; until then Saint Kevin’s Monastery was in danger of facing the same fate that would befall Wood Quay.
In terms of religious iconography, this pub sat at the bottom of the hill below Christ Church Cathedral, which Henry Roe would begin restoring in the following year, 1871. So here we had the publicans and distillers come together with the gothic and the arts-and-crafts revival, sitting side-by-side.
Interestingly, Simon Street, a direct descendant of George Edmund Street, the architect of the cathedral restoration, was recently my guest at Choral Evensong in the Cathedral, where I am a canon. For, on his father’s side he is descended from the cathedral architect, but his mother was a Comerford from Rathgar … how paths so often cross and criss-cross each other, throughout life and for generations after.
Christ Church Cathedral served a secular purpose, for it gave Henry Roe the recognition he craved as a city magnate. But the pub also served a religious purpose. As Peter Walsh points put in one of the essays in this publication, Erin weeping on her chained and string-less harp owes as much to Biblical imagery as it does to literary and political images.
Here the chosen people, in bondage, by the river banks, refused to sing and hung their string-less harps on the weeping willows (Psalm 137).
Here too, the new Ireland that was being dreamt of was one that respected our diversity and pluralism, and advocated that New Ireland in a constitutional, nonviolent, even radical way. The two principal figures on the friezes are constitutional politicians, Henry Grattan and Daniel O’Connell, one a member of the Church of Ireland, the other a Roman Catholic. Inside, the paintings of the Vale of Avoca and the Lakes of Killarney may also have served as illusions to Parnell and O’Connell … although this needs further exploration, as Parnell, while he was a close friend of the Comerfords of Rathdrum, was not elected an MP until 1875.
The Irish House was not merely a part of the Celtic Revival and Celtic Romanticism – its imagery helped to shape and to articulate them. It was built almost a quarter of a century before the Gaelic League was founded. The GAA was not founded until 1884, Douglas Hyde’s Gaelic League not until 1893 – incidentally, the same year the Dublin plasterers first registered as a trade union, led by stucco plasterers such as my great-grandfather, James Comerford, and his family. (And I am the fourth generation in my family to hold office in a trade union.)
Our most popular English-language version of Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Frances Alexander’s I bind unto myself today (Irish Church Hymnal, 322) was first sung and first published as late as 1889. The English-language version of Be thou my vision by Mary Byrne and versified by Eleanor Hull (Irish Church Hymnal, No 643), which refers to God as “my high tower” was only translated and versified in 1905, and first published in a hymnal in 1915.
So, while I am not claiming that The Irish House inspired poets, playwrights or language revivalists, James Comerford and William Burnett played pivotal and pioneering roles in our society in the latter part of the Victorian era.
There is a lot of research waiting to be done that can tell us more about The Irish House, and its influence on cultural, political, religious and social thinking in the latter part of the 19th century. It would be interesting to explore the symbolism, if any, of The Irish House at one end of the Quays and The Scotch House at the other. We would all benefit from research into our stucco art work from this period … most of the work on the arts-and-crafts movement has concentrated on stained glass; most of the work on church architecture has concentrated on the work of the architects but paid little attention to those who decorated the facades and the interiors. We have great studies of our 18th century stuccodores, but not of those from the 19th century. And if The Irish House deserves this attention, then so too do the Long Hall, the Stag’s Head, Ryan’s of Park Gate Street, and similar “gin palaces,” as integrated, whole pieces of art in themselves.
I would like to explore more the links between works like The Irish House, and another Comerford and Burnett production, The Oarsman, and other buildings of the time with, for example, the arts-and-crafts movement in Victorian England, teasing out the story that John Ruskin once praised John’s Lane Church as “a poem in stone.”
Like the key figures in the Arts and Crafts movement, artists like my great-grandfather made the connection between their work and their religious values, their socialist principles and their high esteem for their country.
James Comerford died in 1902 in Beechwood Avenue, Ranelagh. His values and his talents were inherited by other members of the family. Some years before she died, my last aunt on the Comerford side of the family, who lived in my grandmother’s house, made a point of handing over to me the sword from the 1798 era once owned by James Comerford’s father, because she felt I was clinging on to those inherited social, political and ecumenical values.
James Comerford’s values and artistic genes were certainly inherited by my grandfather, Stephen Comerford, who worked with Ashlin and Coleman on the new hospital they were building in Portrane (1896-1902).
Stephen died tragically in 1921, and is buried in Saint Catherine’s Churchyard in Portrane. But had he not been employed by Ashlin and Coleman, he would never have met my grandmother, Bridget Lynders, and so I would not be standing before you this evening, praising him and my great-grandfather and thanking you for this exhibition and these essays, for not only keeping his memory alive, but for placing him, his work and The Irish House in their rightful place in a time of great creativity and ferment in Dublin society.
The poster for the Dublin Civic Trust exhibition on The Irish House in 2009
Thank you. Thank you, Graham Hickey and Geraldine Walsh. Thank you, Séan Lynch, Kevin Nowlan, and Peter Walsh. Thank you, Lord Moyne and all the craftsmen and curators who rescued and cherished the figures from The Irish House. And thank you James Comerford. Parents are supposed to be proud of their children, and I am. But I am also proud of my great-grandfather and my grandfather, their creativity, their vision, their skills and their work.
Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. He was speaking at the launch of The Irish House/An Teach Gaelach, Public House 1870-1968, in the Dublin Civic Trust on 8 December 2009.
Waiting for the Barbarians
What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
The barbarians are to arrive today.
Why such inaction in the Senate?
Why do the Senators sit and pass no laws?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
What laws can the Senators pass any more?
When the barbarians come they will make the laws.
Why did our emperor wake up so early,
and sits at the greatest gate of the city,
on the throne, solemn, wearing the crown?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
And the emperor waits to receive
their chief. Indeed he has prepared
to give him a scroll. Therein he inscribed
many titles and names of honour.
Why have our two consuls and the praetors come out
today in their red, embroidered togas;
why do they wear amethyst-studded bracelets,
and rings with brilliant, glittering emeralds;
why are they carrying costly canes today,
wonderfully carved with silver and gold?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today,
and such things dazzle the barbarians.
Why don't the worthy orators come as always
to make their speeches, to have their say?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today;
and they get bored with eloquence and orations.
Why all of a sudden this unrest
and confusion. (How solemn the faces have become).
Why are the streets and squares clearing quickly,
and all return to their homes, so deep in thought?
Because night is here but the barbarians have not come.
And some people arrived from the borders,
and said that there are no longer any barbarians.
And now what shall become of us without any barbarians?
Those people were some kind of solution.
Constantine P. Cavafy (1904)
Περιμένοντας τους βαρβάρους
- Τι περιμένουμε στην αγορά συναθροισμένοι;
Είναι οι βάρβαροι να φθάσουν σήμερα.
- Γιατί μέσα στην Σύγκλητο μια τέτοια απραξία;
Τι κάθοντ' οι Συγκλητικοί και δεν νομοθετούνε;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
Τι νόμους πια θα κάμουν οι Συγκλητικοί;
Οι βάρβαροι σαν έλθουν θα νομοθετήσουν.
- Γιατί ο αυτοκράτωρ μας τόσο πρωϊ σηκώθη,
και κάθεται στης πόλεως την πιο μεγάλη πύλη
στον θρόνο επάνω, επίσημος, φορώντας την κορώνα;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
Κι ο αυτοκράτωρ περιμένει να δεχθεί
τον αρχηγό τους. Μάλιστα ετοίμασε
για να τον δώσει μια περγαμηνή. Εκεί
τον έγραψε τίτλους πολλούς και ονόματα.
- Γιατί οι δυο μας ύπατοι κ' οι πραίτωρες εβγήκαν
σήμερα με τες κόκκινες, τες κεντημένες τόγες•
γιατί βραχιόλια φόρεσαν με τόσους αμεθύστους,
και δαχτυλίδια με λαμπρά, γυαλιστερά σμαράγδια•
γιατί να πιάσουν σήμερα πολύτιμα μπαστούνια
μ' ασήμια και μαλάματα έκτακτα σκαλιγμένα;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα•
και τέτοια πράγματα θαμπόνουν τους βαρβάρους.
- Γιατί κ' οι άξιοι ρήτορες δεν έρχονται σαν πάντα
να βγάλουνε τους λόγους τους, να πούνε τα δικά τους;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα•
κι αυτοί βαρυούντ' ευφράδειες και δημηγορίες.
- Γιατί ν' αρχίσει μονομιάς αυτή η ανησυχία
κ' η σύγχυσις. (Τα πρόσωπα τι σοβαρά που εγίναν).
Γιατί αδειάζουν γρήγορα οι δρόμοι κ' η πλατέες,
κι όλοι γυρνούν στα σπίτια τους πολύ συλλογισμένοι;
Γιατί ενύχτωσε κ' οι βάρβαροι δεν ήλθαν.
Και μερικοί έφθασαν απ' τα σύνορα,
και είπανε πως βάρβαροι πια δεν υπάρχουν.
Και τώρα τι θα γένουμε χωρίς βαρβάρους.
Οι άνθρωποι αυτοί ήσαν μια κάποια λύσις.
Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης (1904)
Patrick Comerford
Friends, past, present and future. What an honour it is to be asked to launch this publication this afternoon.
Personal pride, family pride, civic pride and cultural pride are all playing together in my emotions this evening, bouncing off each other.
At a personal level, I have always been aware of and proud of the work of my great-grandfather, James Comerford, in making a key contribution as a stucco artist to the Victorian arts and crafts movement in Ireland. His name and his memory continue in the family, so that my eldest son, his great-great-grandson, is also called James Comerford. And so, I am honoured, delighted – indeed thrilled – that Geraldine Walsh and Graham Hickey asked me to be involved in launching this comprehensive and beautifully-illustrated publication this evening.
The invitation to the Christmas launch in the Dublin Civic Trust
James Comerford was only a boy of eight at the time of the death of his father, who had witnessed the 1798 Rising in Co Wexford, whose portrait had been painted in 1808 by the great miniaturist, John Comerford, and who was buried in 1825 in Saint Colman’s, the Church of Ireland Churchyard in Templeshanbo.
James would inherit his father’s radical political and social values. But at an early age he depended on his older brothers, Richard and Robert, and all three prospered with the fashion for Gothic Revival architecture, introduced to Co Wexford by Richard Pierce, who built the new churches in Newtownbarry and neighbouring Kilmyshall, and by the great Pugin.
Having worked in Enniscorthy and Wexford, and other Pugin and Pierce churches throughout Co Wexford, James came to Dublin around 1852, in his mid-30s. The Twin Churches, in Rowe Street and Bride Street, were at an advanced stage of building in Wexford that year, a triumph for Richard Pierce in his career as an architect. This is the year Pugin died; but this too is the year in which the Gothic Revival becomes the great fashion statement in church architecture in Dublin: JJ McCarthy starts work in 1852 on Saint Catherine’s Church in Meath Street, Saint Saviour’s Church in Dominick Street and Star of the Sea Church in Sandymount.
Gothic Revival became the fashion for Churches in city centre Dublin from the 1850s on, totally eclipsing the previous fashion for Classical-style churches, and dismissing Cardinal Newman’s hopes for Byzantine-style churches.
While James was working on John’s Lane Church for Pugin and Ashlin and on Saint Kevin’s Church near Kelly’s Corner for George Ashlin, he lived within walking distance of both in Redmond’s Hill, where my grandfather, Stephen Edward Comerford was born in December 1867. And it was at this time that Patrick O’Kelly realised how his talents could be combined with those of William Burnett to create his “Byzantine casket.” Indeed, I sometimes wonder how Newman would have taken to Curran’s later description of The Irish House as a “Byzantine Casket.”
There were others who were assertively dismissive of The Irish House. Famously, The Irish Builder on 1 June 1870, raged against The Irish House as yet another “gin palace,” describing the “round towers” as “ludicrous imitations,” and the whole building as “the production of some juvenile anxious to try his ‘prentice hand,’ who has derived all his architectural knowledge from enlarging details upon a panel in a carpenter’s workshop .”
For this anonymous critic, The Irish House was the product of “misapplied taste,” and the round towers, in their “contaminated “state” would be better toppling into “the fetid waters of the Liffey.”
That anonymous writer remains unknown. On the other hand, this exhibition and this collection of essays show that Burnett and Comerford, far from being prentice hands with juvenile anxiety, were making an important cultural contribution to the life of their adopted city.
The Irish House shortly before its demolition ... it represented the pinnacle of James Comerford’s career as a stucco artist
CP Cavafy wrote a wonderful poem in 1904 about the elders of a Byzantine city waiting at the gates for the Barbarians, who are to come today (Waiting for the Barbarians, Περιμένοντας τους βαρβάρους). But the Barbarians were within our city gates just over a generation ago, for as we all know ever since, the destruction of The Irish House is merely one detail in the overall Barbarian destruction of the Wood Quay site.
I thought for a long time after the destruction of Wood Quay that The Irish House was forgotten by all but a few, brave hearts, such as Sean Lynch and Peter Walsh. But this exhibition, this publication, and the wonderful work of the Dublin Civic Trust have rescued and redeemed its memory, the memory of William Burnett and James Comerford, and their place in our artistic, cultural, social, political and religious thinking.
Culturally, these essays and this exhibition place The Irish House firmly within the Celtic Revival and Celtic Romantic Movement.
Indeed, as an icon, The Irish House was not so much a reaction to or a product of these movements, but played an important role as a catalyst in them. Try to visualise its place in a timeline for these movements. The Irish House, with its six Round Towers sticking into the sky, was built in 1870 – four years before the Round Tower in Glendalough was restored and recapped; until then Saint Kevin’s Monastery was in danger of facing the same fate that would befall Wood Quay.
In terms of religious iconography, this pub sat at the bottom of the hill below Christ Church Cathedral, which Henry Roe would begin restoring in the following year, 1871. So here we had the publicans and distillers come together with the gothic and the arts-and-crafts revival, sitting side-by-side.
Interestingly, Simon Street, a direct descendant of George Edmund Street, the architect of the cathedral restoration, was recently my guest at Choral Evensong in the Cathedral, where I am a canon. For, on his father’s side he is descended from the cathedral architect, but his mother was a Comerford from Rathgar … how paths so often cross and criss-cross each other, throughout life and for generations after.
Christ Church Cathedral served a secular purpose, for it gave Henry Roe the recognition he craved as a city magnate. But the pub also served a religious purpose. As Peter Walsh points put in one of the essays in this publication, Erin weeping on her chained and string-less harp owes as much to Biblical imagery as it does to literary and political images.
Here the chosen people, in bondage, by the river banks, refused to sing and hung their string-less harps on the weeping willows (Psalm 137).
Here too, the new Ireland that was being dreamt of was one that respected our diversity and pluralism, and advocated that New Ireland in a constitutional, nonviolent, even radical way. The two principal figures on the friezes are constitutional politicians, Henry Grattan and Daniel O’Connell, one a member of the Church of Ireland, the other a Roman Catholic. Inside, the paintings of the Vale of Avoca and the Lakes of Killarney may also have served as illusions to Parnell and O’Connell … although this needs further exploration, as Parnell, while he was a close friend of the Comerfords of Rathdrum, was not elected an MP until 1875.
The Irish House was not merely a part of the Celtic Revival and Celtic Romanticism – its imagery helped to shape and to articulate them. It was built almost a quarter of a century before the Gaelic League was founded. The GAA was not founded until 1884, Douglas Hyde’s Gaelic League not until 1893 – incidentally, the same year the Dublin plasterers first registered as a trade union, led by stucco plasterers such as my great-grandfather, James Comerford, and his family. (And I am the fourth generation in my family to hold office in a trade union.)
Our most popular English-language version of Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Frances Alexander’s I bind unto myself today (Irish Church Hymnal, 322) was first sung and first published as late as 1889. The English-language version of Be thou my vision by Mary Byrne and versified by Eleanor Hull (Irish Church Hymnal, No 643), which refers to God as “my high tower” was only translated and versified in 1905, and first published in a hymnal in 1915.
So, while I am not claiming that The Irish House inspired poets, playwrights or language revivalists, James Comerford and William Burnett played pivotal and pioneering roles in our society in the latter part of the Victorian era.
There is a lot of research waiting to be done that can tell us more about The Irish House, and its influence on cultural, political, religious and social thinking in the latter part of the 19th century. It would be interesting to explore the symbolism, if any, of The Irish House at one end of the Quays and The Scotch House at the other. We would all benefit from research into our stucco art work from this period … most of the work on the arts-and-crafts movement has concentrated on stained glass; most of the work on church architecture has concentrated on the work of the architects but paid little attention to those who decorated the facades and the interiors. We have great studies of our 18th century stuccodores, but not of those from the 19th century. And if The Irish House deserves this attention, then so too do the Long Hall, the Stag’s Head, Ryan’s of Park Gate Street, and similar “gin palaces,” as integrated, whole pieces of art in themselves.
I would like to explore more the links between works like The Irish House, and another Comerford and Burnett production, The Oarsman, and other buildings of the time with, for example, the arts-and-crafts movement in Victorian England, teasing out the story that John Ruskin once praised John’s Lane Church as “a poem in stone.”
Like the key figures in the Arts and Crafts movement, artists like my great-grandfather made the connection between their work and their religious values, their socialist principles and their high esteem for their country.
James Comerford died in 1902 in Beechwood Avenue, Ranelagh. His values and his talents were inherited by other members of the family. Some years before she died, my last aunt on the Comerford side of the family, who lived in my grandmother’s house, made a point of handing over to me the sword from the 1798 era once owned by James Comerford’s father, because she felt I was clinging on to those inherited social, political and ecumenical values.
James Comerford’s values and artistic genes were certainly inherited by my grandfather, Stephen Comerford, who worked with Ashlin and Coleman on the new hospital they were building in Portrane (1896-1902).
Stephen died tragically in 1921, and is buried in Saint Catherine’s Churchyard in Portrane. But had he not been employed by Ashlin and Coleman, he would never have met my grandmother, Bridget Lynders, and so I would not be standing before you this evening, praising him and my great-grandfather and thanking you for this exhibition and these essays, for not only keeping his memory alive, but for placing him, his work and The Irish House in their rightful place in a time of great creativity and ferment in Dublin society.
The poster for the Dublin Civic Trust exhibition on The Irish House in 2009
Thank you. Thank you, Graham Hickey and Geraldine Walsh. Thank you, Séan Lynch, Kevin Nowlan, and Peter Walsh. Thank you, Lord Moyne and all the craftsmen and curators who rescued and cherished the figures from The Irish House. And thank you James Comerford. Parents are supposed to be proud of their children, and I am. But I am also proud of my great-grandfather and my grandfather, their creativity, their vision, their skills and their work.
Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. He was speaking at the launch of The Irish House/An Teach Gaelach, Public House 1870-1968, in the Dublin Civic Trust on 8 December 2009.
Waiting for the Barbarians
What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
The barbarians are to arrive today.
Why such inaction in the Senate?
Why do the Senators sit and pass no laws?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
What laws can the Senators pass any more?
When the barbarians come they will make the laws.
Why did our emperor wake up so early,
and sits at the greatest gate of the city,
on the throne, solemn, wearing the crown?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
And the emperor waits to receive
their chief. Indeed he has prepared
to give him a scroll. Therein he inscribed
many titles and names of honour.
Why have our two consuls and the praetors come out
today in their red, embroidered togas;
why do they wear amethyst-studded bracelets,
and rings with brilliant, glittering emeralds;
why are they carrying costly canes today,
wonderfully carved with silver and gold?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today,
and such things dazzle the barbarians.
Why don't the worthy orators come as always
to make their speeches, to have their say?
Because the barbarians are to arrive today;
and they get bored with eloquence and orations.
Why all of a sudden this unrest
and confusion. (How solemn the faces have become).
Why are the streets and squares clearing quickly,
and all return to their homes, so deep in thought?
Because night is here but the barbarians have not come.
And some people arrived from the borders,
and said that there are no longer any barbarians.
And now what shall become of us without any barbarians?
Those people were some kind of solution.
Constantine P. Cavafy (1904)
Περιμένοντας τους βαρβάρους
- Τι περιμένουμε στην αγορά συναθροισμένοι;
Είναι οι βάρβαροι να φθάσουν σήμερα.
- Γιατί μέσα στην Σύγκλητο μια τέτοια απραξία;
Τι κάθοντ' οι Συγκλητικοί και δεν νομοθετούνε;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
Τι νόμους πια θα κάμουν οι Συγκλητικοί;
Οι βάρβαροι σαν έλθουν θα νομοθετήσουν.
- Γιατί ο αυτοκράτωρ μας τόσο πρωϊ σηκώθη,
και κάθεται στης πόλεως την πιο μεγάλη πύλη
στον θρόνο επάνω, επίσημος, φορώντας την κορώνα;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα.
Κι ο αυτοκράτωρ περιμένει να δεχθεί
τον αρχηγό τους. Μάλιστα ετοίμασε
για να τον δώσει μια περγαμηνή. Εκεί
τον έγραψε τίτλους πολλούς και ονόματα.
- Γιατί οι δυο μας ύπατοι κ' οι πραίτωρες εβγήκαν
σήμερα με τες κόκκινες, τες κεντημένες τόγες•
γιατί βραχιόλια φόρεσαν με τόσους αμεθύστους,
και δαχτυλίδια με λαμπρά, γυαλιστερά σμαράγδια•
γιατί να πιάσουν σήμερα πολύτιμα μπαστούνια
μ' ασήμια και μαλάματα έκτακτα σκαλιγμένα;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα•
και τέτοια πράγματα θαμπόνουν τους βαρβάρους.
- Γιατί κ' οι άξιοι ρήτορες δεν έρχονται σαν πάντα
να βγάλουνε τους λόγους τους, να πούνε τα δικά τους;
Γιατί οι βάρβαροι θα φθάσουν σήμερα•
κι αυτοί βαρυούντ' ευφράδειες και δημηγορίες.
- Γιατί ν' αρχίσει μονομιάς αυτή η ανησυχία
κ' η σύγχυσις. (Τα πρόσωπα τι σοβαρά που εγίναν).
Γιατί αδειάζουν γρήγορα οι δρόμοι κ' η πλατέες,
κι όλοι γυρνούν στα σπίτια τους πολύ συλλογισμένοι;
Γιατί ενύχτωσε κ' οι βάρβαροι δεν ήλθαν.
Και μερικοί έφθασαν απ' τα σύνορα,
και είπανε πως βάρβαροι πια δεν υπάρχουν.
Και τώρα τι θα γένουμε χωρίς βαρβάρους.
Οι άνθρωποι αυτοί ήσαν μια κάποια λύσις.
Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης (1904)
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