---
title: "On Salaried Posts in Great Houses · Περὶ τῶν ἐν Μισθῷ συνόντων"
author: "Lucian"
translator: "Henry Watson Fowler"
languages: [grc, en]
shelf: "Classical Greek"
section: 2 of 2
url: https://scriptura.si/works/lucian-on-salaried-posts/2/
cite: "Lucian, tr. Henry Watson Fowler, On Salaried Posts in Great Houses · Περὶ τῶν ἐν Μισθῷ συνόντων, section 2. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/lucian-on-salaried-posts/2/"
---

# On Salaried Posts in Great Houses · Περὶ τῶν ἐν Μισθῷ συνόντων

*Lucian, tr. Henry Watson Fowler*

The humiliations of the Greek scholar who takes a post in a rich Roman household.

> Greek: ed. Austin Morris Harmon, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-greekLit, tlg0062.tlg033, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: Henry Watson Fowler, from the Perseus Digital Library (tlg0062.tlg033.perseus-eng4). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (chapters and sections), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 2. Sections 21–42

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/lucian-on-salaried-posts/2/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/lucian-on-salaried-posts/2/#p-N

[¶0] 21. However, there is nothing for it but to submit with a good grace. It is too late now for escape; you are in the toils. So you open your mouth for the bit, and are very manageable from the first. You give your rider no occasion to keep a tight rein, or to use the spur; and at last by imperceptible degrees you are quite broken in to him. The outside world from that time watches you with envy. You dwell within his courts; you have free access; you are become a person of consequence. Yet it is now incomprehensible to you how they can suppose you to be happy. At the same time, you are not without a certain exultation: you cheat yourself from day to day with the thought that there are better things to come. Quite the contrary turns out to be the case. Your prospects, like the proverbial sacrifice of Mandrobulus, dwindle and contract from day to day.

> Greek: 21. ἀγαπᾶν δʼ ὅμως ἀναγκαῖον· οὐ γὰρ οὐδʼ ἂν φυγεῖν ἔτι σοι δυνατὸν ἐντὸς ἀρκύων γενομένῳ. δέχῃ τοίνυν τὸν χαλινὸν μύσας καὶ τὰ πρῶτα εὐάγωγος εἶ πρὸς αὐτὸν οὐ πάνυ περισπῶντα οὐδὲ ὀξέως νύττοντα, μέχρι ἂν λάθῃς τέλεον αὐτῷ συνήθης γενόμενος. οἱ μὲν δὴ ἔξω ἄνθρωποι τὸ μετὰ τοῦτο ζηλοῦσί σε ὁρῶντες ἐντὸς τῆς κιγκλίδος διατρίβοντα καὶ ἀκωλύτως εἰσιόντα καὶ τῶν πάνυ τινὰ ἔνδον γεγενημένον· σὺ δὲ αὐτὸς οὐδέπω ὁρᾷς οὗτινος ἕνεκα εὐδαίμων αὐτοῖς εἶναι δοκεῖς. πλὴν ἀλλὰ χαίρεις γε καὶ σεαυτὸν ἐξαπατᾷς καὶ ἀεὶ τὰ μέλλοντα βελτίω γενήσεσθαι νομίζεις. τὸ δʼ ἔμπαλιν ἢ σὺ ἤλπισας γίγνεται καὶ ὡς ἡ παροιμία φησίν, ἐπὶ Μανδροβούλου χωρεῖ τὸ πρᾶγμα, καθʼ ἑκάστην, ὡς εἰπεῖν, τὴν ἡμέραν ἀποσμικρυνόμενον καὶ εἰς τοὐπίσω ἀναποδίζον.

[¶1] 22. Gradually you get some faint glimmerings of the truth. It begins to dawn upon you at last, that those golden hopes were neither more nor less than gilded bubbles: the vexations, on the other hand, are realities; solid, abiding, uncompromising realities. ‘And what are these vexations?” you will perhaps exclaim; ‘I see nothing so vexatious about the matter; I know not what are the hardships and the drudgery alluded to.’ Then listen. And do not confine yourself to the article of drudgery, but keep a sharp look-out for ignominy, for degradation, for everything, in short, that is unworthy of a free man.

> Greek: 22. ἠρέμα οὖν καὶ κατʼ ὀλίγον, ὥσπερ ἐν ἀμυδρῷ τῷ φωτὶ τότε πρῶτον διαβλέπων, ἄρχῃ κατανοεῖν ὡς αἱ μὲν χρυσαῖ ἐκεῖναι ἐλπίδες οὐδὲν ἀλλʼ ἢ φῦσαί τινες ἦσαν ἐπίχρυσοι, βαρεῖς δὲ καὶ ἀληθεῖς καὶ ἀπαραίτητοι καὶ συνεχεῖς οἱ πόνοι. τίνες οὗτοι; ἴσως ἐρήσῃ με· οὑχ ὁρῶ γὰρ ὅ τι τὸ ἐπίπονον ἐν ταῖς τοιαύταις συνουσίαις ἐστὶν οὐδʼ ἐπινοῶ ἅτινα ἔφησθα τὰ καματηρὰ καὶ ἀφόρητα. οὐκοῦν ἄκουσον, ὦ γενναῖε, μὴ εἰ κάματος ἔνεστιν ἐν τῷ πράγματι μόνον ἐξετάζων, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ αἰσχρὸν καὶ ταπεινὸν καὶ συνόλως δουλοπρεπὲς οὐκ ἐν παρέργῳ τῆς ἀκροάσεως τιθέμενος.

[¶2] 23. Let me remind you then, to begin with, that you are no longer free-born, no longer a man of family. Birth, freedom, ancestry, all these you will leave on the other side of the door, when you enter upon the fulfilment of your servile contract; for Freedom will never bear you company in that ignoble station. You are a slave, wince as you may at the word; and, be assured, a slave of many masters; a downward-looking drudge, from morning till night
serving for sorry wage.
Then again, you are a backward pupil: Servitude was not the nurse of your childhood; you are getting on in years when she takes you in hand; accordingly, you will do her little credit, and give little satisfaction to your lord. Recollections of Freedom will exercise their demoralizing influence upon you, causing you to jib at times, and you will make villanous work of your new profession. Or will your aspirations after Freedom be satisfied, perhaps, with the thought, that you are no son of a Pyrrhias or a Zopyrion, no Bithynian, to be knocked down under the hammer of a bawling auctioneer? My dear sir, when pay-day comes round each month, and you mingle in the herd of Pyrrhiases and Zopyrions, and hold out your hand for the wage that is due to you, what is that but a sale? No need of an auctioneer, > for the man who can cry his own wares, and hawks his liberty about from day to day.

> Greek: 23. καὶ πρῶτόν γε μέμνησο μηκέτι ἐλεύθερον τὸ ἀπʼ ἐκείνου μηδὲ εὐπατρίδην σεαυτὸν οἴεσθαι. πάντα γὰρ ταῦτα, τὸ γένος, τὴν ἐλευθερίαν, τοὺς προγόνους ἔξω τοῦ ὀδοῦ καταλείψων ἴσθι ἐπειδὰν ἐπὶ τοιαύτην σαυτὸν λατρείαν ἀπεμπολήσας εἰσίῃς· οὐ γὰρ ἐθελήσει σοι ἡ Ἐλευθερία συνεισελθεῖν ἐφʼ οὕτως ἀγεννῆ πράγματα καὶ ταπεινὰ εἰσιόντι. δοῦλος οὖν, εἰ καὶ πάνυ ἀχθέσῃ τῷ ὀνόματι, καὶ οὐχ ἑνός, ἀλλὰ πολλῶν δοῦλος ἀναγκαίως ἔσῃ καὶ θητεύσεις κάτω νενευκὼς ἕωθεν εἰς ἑσπέραν ἀεικελίῳ ἐπὶ μισθῷ. καὶ ἅτε δὴ μὴ ἐκ παίδων τῇ Δουλείᾳ συντραφείς, ὀψιμαθήσας δὲ καὶ πόρρω που τῆς ἡλικίας παιδευόμενος πρὸς αὐτῆς οὐ πάνυ εὐδόκιμος ἔσῃ οὐδὲ πολλοῦ ἄξιος τῷ δεσπότῃ· διαφθείρει γάρ σε ἡ μνήμη τῆς ἐλευθερίας ὑπιοῦσα καὶ ἀποσκιρτᾶν ἐνίοτε ποιεῖ καὶ διʼ αὐτὸ ἐν τῇ δουλείᾳ πονηρῶς ἀπαλλάττειν. πλὴν εἰ μὴ ἀποχρῆν σοι πρὸς ἐλευθερίαν νομίζεις τὸ μὴ Πυρρίου μηδὲ Ζωπυρίωνος υἱὸν εἶναι, μηδὲ ὥσπερ τις Βιθυνὸς ὑπὸ μεγαλοφώνῳ τῷ κήρυκι ἀπημπολῆσθαι. ἀλλʼ ὁπόταν, ὦ βέλτιστε, τῆς νουμηνίας ἐπιστάσης ἀναμιχθεὶς τῷ Πυρρίᾳ καὶ τῷ Ζωπυρίωνι προτείνῃς τὴν χεῖρα ὁμοίως τοῖς ἄλλοις οἰκέταις καὶ λάβῃς ἐκεῖνο ὁτιδήποτε ἦν τὸ γιγνόμενον, τοῦτο ἡ πρᾶσίς ἐστι. κήρυκος γὰρ οὐκ ἔδει ἐπʼ ἄνδρα ἑαυτὸν ἀποκηρύξαντα καὶ μακρῷ χρόνῳ μνηστευσάμενον ἑαυτῷ τὸν δεσπότην.

[¶3] 24. Wretch! (one is prompted to exclaim, and particularly when the culprit is a professed philosopher) Wretch! Were you captured and sold by a pirate or a brigand, you would bewail your lot, and think that Fortune had dealt hardly with you. Were a man to lay violent hands on you, and claim a master’s rights in you, loud and bitter would be your outcry: ‘By heaven and earth,’tis monstrous! I appeal to the laws!’ And now, at an age at which a born slave may begin to look towards Freedom, now for a few pence do you sell yourself, your virtue and wisdom, in one parcel? And could Plato’s noble words, could all that Chrysippus and Aristotle " have said, of the blessings of freedom and the curse of slavery, raise no compunction in you? Do you count it no shame to be pitted against toadies and vulgar parasites? no shame to sit at the noisy banquets of a promiscuous, and for the most part a disreputable company, a Greek among Romans, wearing the foreign garb of philosophy, and stammering their tongue with a foreign accent? How fulsome are your flatteries on these occasions! how indecent your tipplings! And next morning the bell rings, and up you must get, losing the best of your sleep, to trudge up and down with yesterday’s mud still on your shoes. Were lupines and wild herbs so scarce with you? had the springs ceased to give their wonted supply, that you were brought to such a pass? No, the cause of your captivity is too clear. Not water, not lupines were the object of your desire, but dainty viands and fragrant wines; and your sin has found you out: you are hooked like a pike by your greedy jaws. We have not far to look for the reward of gluttony. Like a monkey with a collar about its neck, you are kept to make amusement for the company; fancying yourself supremely happy, because you are unstinted in the matter of dried figs. As to freedom and generosity, they are fled, with the memories of Greece, and have left no trace behind them.

> Greek: 24. εἶτʼ, ὦ κάθαρμα, φαίην ἄν, καὶ μάλιστα πρὸς τὸν φιλοσοφεῖν φάσκοντα, εἰ μέν σέ τις ἢ πλέοντα καταποντιστὴς συλλαβὼν ἢ λῃστὴς ἀπεδίδοτο, ᾤκτειρες ἂν σεαυτὸν ὡς παρὰ τὴν ἀξίαν δυστυχοῦντα, ἢ εἴ τίς σου λαβόμενος ἦγε δοῦλον εἶναι λέγων, ἐβόας ἂν τοὺς νόμους καὶ δεινὰ ἐποίεις καὶ ἠγανάκτεις καί, Ὦ γῆ καὶ θεοί, μεγάλῃ τῇ φωνῇ ἐκεκράγεις ἄν, σεαυτὸν δὲ ὀλίγων ἕνεκα ὀβολῶν ἐν τούτῳ τῆς ἡλικίας, ὅτε καὶ εἰ φύσει δοῦλος ἦσθα, καιρὸς ἦν πρὸς ἐλευθερίαν ἤδη ὁρᾶν, αὐτῇ ἀρετῇ καὶ σοφίᾳ φέρων ἀπημπόληκας, οὐδὲ τοὺς πολλοὺς ἐκείνους λόγους αἰδεσθεὶς οὓς ὁ καλὸς Πλάτων ἢ ὁ Χρύσιππος ἢ Ἀριστοτέλης διεξεληλύθασι τὸ μὲν ἐλευθέριον ἐπαινοῦντες, τὸ δουλοπρεπὲς δὲ διαβάλλοντες; καὶ οὐκ αἰσχύνῃ κόλαξιν ἀνθρώποις καὶ ἀγοραίοις καὶ βωμολόχοις ἀντεξεταζόμενος καὶ ἐν τοσούτῳ πλήθει Ῥωμαϊκῷ μόνος ξενίζων τῷ τρίβωνι καὶ πονηρῶς τὴν Ῥωμαίων φωνὴν βαρβαρίζων, εἶτα δειπνῶν δεῖπνα θορυβώδη καὶ πολυάνθρωπα συγκλύδων τινῶν καὶ τῶν πλείστων μοχθηρῶν; καὶ ἐν αὐτοῖς ἐπαινεῖς φορτικῶς καὶ πίνεις πέρα τοῦ μετρίως ἔχοντος. ἕωθέν τε ὑπὸ κώδωνι ἐξαναστὰς ἀποσεισάμενος τοῦ ὕπνου τὸ ἥδιστον συμπεριθεῖς ἄνω καὶ κάτω ἔτι τὸν χθιζὸν ἔχων πηλὸν ἐπὶ τοῖν σκελοῖν. οὕτως ἀπορία μέν σε θέρμων ἔσχεν ἢ τῶν ἀγρίων λαχάνων, ἐπέλιπον δὲ καὶ αἱ κρῆναι ῥέουσαι τοῦ ψυχροῦ ὕδατος, ὡς ἐπὶ ταῦτά σε ὑπʼ ἀμηχανίας ἐλθεῖν; ἀλλὰ δῆλον ὡς οὐχ ὕδατος οὐδὲ θέρμων, ἀλλὰ πεμμάτων καὶ ὄψου καὶ οἴνου ἀνθοσμίου ἐπιθυμῶν ἑάλως, καθάπερ ὁ λάβραξ αὐτὸν μάλα δικαίως τὸν ὀρεγόμενον τούτων λαιμὸν διαπαρείς. παρὰ πόδας τοιγαροῦν τῆς λιχνείας ταύτης τἀπίχειρα, καὶ ὥσπερ οἱ πίθηκοι δεθεὶς κλοιῷ τὸν τράχηλον ἄλλοις μὲν γέλωτα παρέχεις, σεαυτῷ δὲ δοκεῖς τρυφᾶν, ὅτι ἔστι σοι τῶν ἰσχάδων ἀφθόνως ἐντραγεῖν. ἡ δὲ ἐλευθερία καὶ τὸ εὐγενὲς αὐτοῖς φυλέταις καὶ φράτερσι φροῦδα πάντα καὶ οὐδὲ μνήμη τις αὐτῶν.

[¶4] 25. And would that that were all, the disgrace of falling from freedom to servitude! Would that your employments were not those of a very menial! Consider; are your duties any lighter than those of a Dromo or a Tibius? As to the studies in which your employer professed an interest when he engaged you, they are nothing to him. Shall an ass affect the lyre? Remove from these men’s minds the gold and the silver, with the cares that these involve, and what remains? Pride, luxury, sensuality, insolence, wantonness, ignorance. Consuming must be their desire, doubt it not, for the wisdom of Homer, the eloquence of Demosthenes, the sublimity of Plato! No, your employer has no need of your services in this direction, On the other hand, you have a long beard and a venerable countenance; the Grecian cloak hangs admirably upon your shoulders, and you are known to be a professor of rhetoric, or literature, or philosophy; it will not be amiss, he thinks, to have such pursuits represented in the numerous retinue that marches before him, It will give him an air of Grecian culture, of liberal curiosity in fact. Friend, friend! your stock-in-trade would seem to be not words of wisdom, but a cloak and a beard. If you would do your duty, therefore, be always well in evidence; begin your unfailing attendance from the early hours of the morning, and never quit his side. Now and again he places a hand upon your shoulder, and mutters some nonsense for the benefit of the passers-by, who are to understand that though he walk abroad the Muses are not forgotten, that in all his comings and goings he can find elegant employment for his mind.

> Greek: 25. καὶ ἀγαπητὸν εἰ μόνον τὸ αἰσχρὸν προσῆν τῷ πράγματι, δοῦλον ἀντʼ ἐλευθέρου δοκεῖν, οἱ δὲ πόνοι μὴ κατὰ τοὺς πάνυ τούτους οἰκέτας. ἀλλʼ ὅρα εἰ μετριώτερά σοι προστέτακται τῶν Δρόμωνι καὶ Τιβείῳ προστεταγμένων. ὧν μὲν γὰρ ἕνεκα, τῶν μαθημάτων ἐπιθυμεῖν φήσας, παρείληφέ σε, ὀλίγον αὐτῷ μέλει. τί γὰρ κοινόν, φασί, λύρᾳ καὶ ὄνῳ; πάνυ γοῦν, — οὐχ ὁρᾷς; — ἐκτετήκασι τῷ πόθῳ τῆς Ὁμήρου σοφίας ἢ τῆς Δημοσθένους δεινότητος ἢ τῆς Πλάτωνος μεγαλοφροσύνης, ὧν ἤν τις ἐκ τῆς ψυχῆς ἀφέλῃ τὸ χρυσίον καὶ τὸ ἀργύριον καὶ τὰς περὶ τούτων φροντίδας, τὸ καταλειπόμενόν ἐστι τῦφος καὶ μαλακία καὶ ἡδυπάθεια καὶ ἀσέλγεια καὶ ὕβρις καὶ ἀπαιδευσία. δεῖται δή σου ἐπʼ ἐκεῖνα μὲν οὐδαμῶς, ἐπεὶ δὲ πώγωνα ἔχεις βαθὺν καὶ σεμνός τις εἶ τὴν πρόσοψιν καὶ ἱμάτιον Ἑλληνικὸν εὐσταλῶς περιβέβλησαι καὶ πάντες ἴσασί σε γραμματικὸν ἢ ῥήτορα ἢ φιλόσοφον, καλὸν αὐτῷ δοκεῖ ἀναμεμῖχθαι καὶ τοιοῦτόν τινα τοῖς προϊοῦσι καὶ προπομπεύουσιν αὐτοῦ· δόξει γὰρ ἐκ τούτου καὶ φιλομαθὴς τῶν Ἑλληνικῶν μαθημάτων καὶ ὅλως περὶ παιδείαν φιλόκαλος. ὥστε κινδυνεύεις, ὦ γενναῖε, ἀντὶ τῶν θαυμαστῶν λόγων τὸν πώγωνα καὶ τὸν τρίβωνα μεμισθωκέναι. χρὴ οὖν σε ἀεὶ σὺν αὐτῷ ὁρᾶσθαι καὶ μηδέποτε ἀπολείπεσθαι, ἀλλὰ ἕωθεν ἐξαναστάντα παρέχειν σεαυτὸν ὀφθησόμενον ἐν τῇ θεραπείᾳ καὶ μὴ λιπεῖν τὴν τάξιν. ὁ δὲ ἐπιβάλλων ἐνίοτέ σοι τὴν χεῖρα, ὅ τι ἂν τύχῃ ληρεῖ, τοῖς ἐντυγχάνουσιν ἐπιδεικνύμενος ὡς οὐδὲ ὁδῷ βαδίζων ἀμελής ἐστι τῶν Μουσῶν, ἀλλʼ εἰς καλὸν τὴν ἐν τῷ περιπάτῳ διατίθεται σχολήν.

[¶5] 26. Breathless and perspiring, you trot, a pitiable spectacle, at the litter’s side; or if he walks—you know what Rome is—, up hill and down dale after him you tramp. While he is paying a call on a friend, you are left outside, where, for lack of a seat, you are fain to take out your book and read standing. Night finds you hungry and thirsty. You snatch an apology for a bath; and it is midnight or near it before you get to dinner. You are no longer an honoured guest; no longer do you engage the attention of the company. You have retired to make room for some newer capture, Thrust into the most obscure corner, you sit watching the progress of dinner, gnawing in canine sort any bones that come down to you and regaling yourself with hungry zest on such tough mallow-leaves—the wrappers of daintier fare—as may escape the vigilance of those who sit above you. No slight is wanting. You have not so much as an egg to call your own; for there is no reason why you should expect to be treated in the same way as a stranger; that would be absurd. The birds that fall to your lot are not like other birds. Your neighbour gets some plump, luscious affair; you, a poor halfchicken, or lean pigeon, an insult, a positive outrage in poultry. As often as not, an extra guest appears unexpectedly, and the waiter solves the difficulty by removing your share (with the whispered consolation that you are ‘one of the family’), and placing it before the new-comer. When the joint, be it pork or venison, is brought in to be carved, let us hope that you stand well with the carver, or you will receive a Promethean helping of ‘bones wrapped up in fat.’ And the way in which a dish is whisked past you, after remaining with your neighbour till he can eat no more!—what free man would endure it, though he were as innocent of gall as any stag? And I have said nothing yet of the wine. While the other guests are drinking of some rare old vintage, you have vile thick stuff, whose colour you must industriously conceal with the help of a gold or silver cup, lest it should betray the estimation in which the drinker is held. It would be something if you could get enough even of this. Alas! you may call and call: the waiter is
as one that marketh not.

> Greek: 26. σὺ δʼ ἄθλιος τὰ μὲν παραδραμών, τὰ δὲ βάδην ἄναντα πολλὰ καὶ κάταντα — τοιαύτη γάρ, ὡς οἶσθα, ἡ πόλις — περιελθὼν ἵδρωκάς τε καὶ πνευστιᾷς, κἀκείνου ἔνδον τινὶ τῶν φίλων πρὸς ὃν ἦλθεν διαλεγομένου, μηδὲ ὅπου καθίζῃς ἔχων ὀρθὸς ὑπʼ ἀπορίας ἀναγιγνώσκεις τὸ βιβλίον προχειρισάμενος. ἐπειδὰν δὲ ἄσιτόν τε καὶ ἄποτον ἡ νὺξ καταλάβῃ, λουσάμενος πονηρῶς ἀωρὶ περὶ αὐτό που σχεδὸν τὸ μεσονύκτιον ἥκεις ἐπὶ τὸ δεῖπνον, οὐκέθʼ ὁμοίως ἔντιμος οὐδὲ περίβλεπτος τοῖς παροῦσιν, ἀλλʼ ἤν τις ἄλλος ἐπεισέλθῃ νεαλέστερος, εἰς τοὐπίσω σύ· καὶ οὕτως εἰς τὴν ἀτιμοτάτην γωνίαν ἐξωσθεὶς κατάκεισαι μάρτυς μόνον τῶν παραφερομένων, τὰ ὀστᾶ, εἰ ἐφίκοιτο μέχρι σοῦ, καθάπερ οἱ κύνες περιεσθίων ἢ τὸ σκληρὸν τῆς μαλάχης φύλλον ᾧ τὰ ἄλλα συνειλοῦσιν, εἰ ὑπεροφθείη ὑπὸ τῶν προκατακειμένων, ἄσμενος ὑπὸ λιμοῦ παροψώμενος. Οὐ μὴν οὐδὲ ἡ ἄλλη ὕβρις ἄπεστιν, ἀλλʼ οὔτε ᾠὸν ἔχεις μόνος — οὐ γὰρ ἀναγκαῖόν ἐστιν καὶ σὲ τῶν αὐτῶν ἀεὶ τοῖς ξένοις καὶ ἀγνώστοις ἀντιποιεῖσθαι· ἀγνωμοσύνη γὰρ δὴ τοῦτό γε — οὔτε ἡ ὄρνις ὁμοία ταῖς ἄλλαις, ἀλλὰ τῷ μὲν πλησίον παχεῖα καὶ πιμελής, σοὶ δὲ νεοττὸς ἡμίτομος ἢ φάττα τις ὑπόσκληρος, ὕβρις ἄντικρυς καὶ ἀτιμία. πολλάκις δʼ εἰ ἐπιλίποι ἄλλου τινὸς αἰφνιδίως ἐπιπαρόντος, ἀράμενος ὁ διάκονος τὰ σοὶ παρακείμενα φέρων ἐκείνῳ παρατέθεικεν ὑποτονθορύσας, σὺ γὰρ ἡμέτερος εἶ. τεμνομένου μὲν γὰρ ἐν τῷ μέσῳ ἢ συὸς ὑπογαστρίου ἢ ἐλάφου, χρὴ ἐκ παντὸς ἢ τὸν διανέμοντα ἵλεων ἔχειν ἢ τὴν Προμηθέως μερίδα φέρεσθαι, ὀστᾶ κεκαλυμμένα τῇ πιμελῇ. τὸ γὰρ τῷ μὲν ὑπὲρ σὲ τὴν λοπάδα παρεστάναι ἔστʼ ἂν ἀπαγορεύσῃ ἐμφορούμενος, σὲ δὲ οὕτω ταχέως παραδραμεῖν, τίνι φορητὸν ἐλευθέρῳ ἀνδρὶ κἂν ὁπόσην αἱ ἔλαφοι τὴν χολὴν ἔχοντι; καίτοι οὐδέπω ἐκεῖνο ἔφην, ὅτι τῶν ἄλλων ἥδιστόν τε καὶ παλαιότατον οἶνον πινόντων μόνος σὺ πονηρόν τινα καὶ παχὺν πίνεις, θεραπεύων ἀεὶ ἐν ἀργύρῳ ἢ χρυσῷ πίνειν, ὡς μὴ ἐλεγχθείης ἀπὸ τοῦ χρώματος οὕτως ἄτιμος ὢν συμπότης. καὶ εἴθε γε κἂν ἐκείνου εἰς κόρον ἦν πιεῖν, νῦν δὲ πολλάκις αἰτήσαντος ὁ παῖς οὐδʼ ἀΐοντι ἔοικεν.

[¶6] 27. Many are your grievances; nay, all is one huge grievance. And the climax is reached, when you find yourself eclipsed by some minion, some dancing-master, some vile Alexandrian patterer of Ionic lays. How should you hope to rank with the minister of Love’s pleasures, with the stealthy conveyer of billetsdoux? You cower shamefaced in your corner, and bewail your hard lot, as well you may; cursing your luck that you have never a smattering of such graceful accomplishments yourself. I believe you wish that you could turn love-songs, or sing other men’s with a good grace; perceiving as you do what a thing it is to be in request. Nay, you could find it in you to play the wizard’s, the fortune-teller’s part; to deal in thrones and in millions of money. For these, too, you observe, make their way in the world, and are high in favour. Gladly would you enter on any one of these vocations, rather than be a useless castaway. Alas, even these are beyond you; you lack plausibility. It remains for you to give place to others; to endure neglect, and keep your complaints to yourself.

> Greek: 27. ἀνιᾷ δή σε πολλὰ καὶ ἀθρόα καὶ σχεδὸν τὰ πάντα, καὶ μάλιστα ὅταν σε παρευδοκιμῇ κίναιδός τις ἢ ὀρχηστοδιδάσκαλος ἢ Ἰωνικὰ συνείρων Ἀλεξανδρεωτικὸς ἀνθρωπίσκος. τοῖς μὲν γὰρ τὰ ἐρωτικὰ ταῦτα διακονουμένοις καὶ γραμματίδια ὑπὸ κόλπου διακομίζουσιν πόθεν σύ γʼ ἰσότιμος; κατακείμενος τοιγαροῦν ἐν μυχῷ τοῦ συμποσίου καὶ ὑπʼ αἰδοῦς καταδεδυκὼς στένεις ὡς τὸ εἰκὸς καὶ σεαυτὸν οἰκτείρεις καὶ αἰτιᾷ τὴν Τύχην οὐδὲ ὀλίγα σοι τῶν χαρίτων ἐπιψεκάσασαν. ἡδέως δʼ ἄν μοι δοκεῖς καὶ ποιητὴς γενέσθαι τῶν ἐρωτικῶν ᾀσμάτων ἢ κἂν ἄλλου ποιήσαντος δύνασθαι ᾄδειν ἀξίως· ὁρᾷς γὰρ οἷ τὸ προτιμᾶσθαι καὶ εὐδοκιμεῖν ἐστιν. ὑποσταίης δὲ ἄν, εἰ καὶ μάγον ἢ μάντιν ὑποκρίνασθαι δέοι τῶν κλήρους πολυταλάντους καὶ ἀρχὰς καὶ ἀθρόους τοὺς πλούτους ὑπισχνουμένων· καὶ γὰρ αὖ καὶ τούτους ὁρᾷς εὖ φερομένους ἐν ταῖς φιλίαις καὶ πολλῶν ἀξιουμένους. κἂν ἕν τι οὖν τούτων ἡδέως ἂν γένοιο, ὡς μὴ ἀπόβλητος καὶ περιττὸς εἴης· ἀλλʼ οὐδὲ πρὸς ταῦτα ὁ κακοδαίμων πιθανὸς εἶ. τοιγαροῦν ἀνάγκη μειοῦσθαι καὶ σιωπῇ ἀνέχεσθαι ὑποιμώζοντα καὶ ἀμελούμενον.

[¶7] 28. Nay, more. Should some slave whisper that you alone withheld your praise, when his mistress’s favourite danced or played, the neglect may cost you dear. Then let your dry throat be as busy as any thirsty frog’s. See to it, that your voice is heard leading the chorus of applause; and time after time, when all else are silent, throw in some studied servile compliment. The situation is not without humour. Hungry as you are, ay, and thirsty into the bargain, you must anoint yourself with oil of gladness, and crown your head with garlands. It reminds one of the offerings made by recent mourners ata tomb. The tomb gets the ointment and the garlands, while the mourners drink and enjoy the feast.

> Greek: 28. ἢν μὲν γὰρ κατείπῃ σοῦ τις ψιθυρὸς οἰκέτης, ὡς μόνος οὐκ ἐπῄνεις τὸν τῆς δεσποίνης παιδίσκον ὀρχούμενον ἢ κιθαρίζοντα, κίνδυνος οὐ μικρὸς ἐκ τοῦ πράγματος. χρὴ οὖν χερσαίου βατράχου δίκην διψῶντα κεκραγέναι, ὡς ἐπίσημος ἔσῃ ἐν τοῖς ἐπαινοῦσι καὶ κορυφαῖος ἐπιμελούμενον· πολλάκις δὲ καὶ τῶν ἄλλων σιωπησάντων αὐτὸν ἐπειπεῖν ἐσκεμμένον τινὰ ἔπαινον πολλὴν τὴν κολακείαν ἐμφανιοῦντα. τὸ μὲν γὰρ λιμῷ συνόντα καὶ νὴ Δία γε διψῶντα μύρῳ χρίεσθαι καὶ στεφανοῦσθαι τὴν κεφαλήν, ἠρέμα καὶ γελοῖον· ἔοικας γὰρ τότε στήλῃ ἑώλου τινὸς νεκροῦ ἄγοντος ἐναγίσματα· καὶ γὰρ ἐκείνων καταχέαντες μύρον καὶ τὸν στέφανον ἐπιθέντες αὐτοὶ πίνουσι καὶ εὐωχοῦνται τὰ παρεσκευασμένα.

[¶8] 29. If your patron is of a jealous disposition, and has a young wife or handsome children, and you are not wholly without personal attractions, then beware! you are on dangerous ground. Many are the ears of a king, and many the eyes, that see not the truth only, but ever something over and above the truth, lest they should seem to fail of their office. Imagine yourself, therefore, at a Persian banquet. Keep your eyes downwards, lest a eunuch should catch them resting on one of the concubines. For see, there stands another with his bow ever on the stretch: c2 one glance at the forbidden object as you raise your cup, and his arrow is through your jaw before you can put it down.

> Greek: 29. ἢν μὲν γὰρ καὶ ζηλότυπός τις ᾖ καὶ παῖδες εὔμορφοι ὦσιν ἢ νέα γυνὴ καὶ σὺ μὴ παντελῶς πόρρω Ἀφροδίτης καὶ Χαρίτων ᾖς, οὐκ ἐν εἰρήνῃ τὸ πρᾶγμα οὐδὲ ὁ κίνδυνος εὐκαταφρόνητος. ὦτα γὰρ καὶ ὀφθαλμοὶ βασιλέως πολλοί, οὐ μόνον τἀληθῆ ὁρῶντες, ἀλλʼ ἀεί τι καὶ προσεπιμετροῦντες, ὡς μὴ νυστάζειν δοκοῖεν. δεῖ οὖν ὥσπερ ἐν τοῖς Περσικοῖς δείπνοις κάτω νεύοντα κατακεῖσθαι, δεδιότα μή τις εὐνοῦχός σε ἴδῃ προσβλέψαντα μιᾷ τῶν παλλακίδων, ἐπεὶ ἄλλος γε εὐνοῦχος ἐντεταμένον πάλαι τὸ τόξον ἔχων ἃ μὴ θέμις ὁρῶντα ἕτοιμος κολάσαι, διαπείρας τῷ οἰστῷ μεταξὺ πίνοντος τὴν γνάθον.

[¶9] 30. And now dinner is over; you retire, and snatch a little sleep. But at cock-crow you are aroused. ‘Wretch! Worm that I am!’ you exclaim. ‘To sacrifice the pursuits, the society of former days, the placid life wherein sleep was measured by inclination, and my comings and goings were unfettered, and all to precipitate myself bodily into this hideous gulf! And why? What, in God’s name, is my glorious recompense? Was there no other way? Could I not have provided for myself better than this, and preserved liberty and free-will into the bargain? Alas! the lion is fast bound in the net. I am haled hither and thither. Pitiable is my lot, where no honour is to be won, no favour to be hoped for. Untaught, unpractised in the arts of flattery, I am pitted against professionals. I am no choice spirit, no jolly companion; to raise a laugh is beyond me. My presence (well do I know it) is a vexation to my patron, and then most when he is in his most gracious mood. He finds me sullen; and how to attune myself to him I know not. If I wear a grim face, I am a sour fellow, scarcely to be endured. If I assume my most cheerful expression, my smiles arouse his contempt and disgust. As well attempt to act a comic part in the mask of tragedy! And what is the end of it all? My present life has been another’s: do I look to have a new life which shall be my own?’

> Greek: 30. εἶτα ἀπελθὼν τοῦ δείπνου μικρόν τι κατέδαρθες· ὑπὸ δὲ ᾠδὴν ἀλεκτρυόνων ἀνεγρόμενος, ὢ δείλαιος ἐγώ, φής, καὶ ἄθλιος, οἵας τὰς πάλαι διατριβὰς ἀπολιπὼν καὶ ἑταίρους καὶ βίον ἀπράγμονα καὶ ὕπνον μετρούμενον τῇ ἐπιθυμίᾳ καὶ περιπάτους ἐλευθερίους εἰς οἷον βάραθρον φέρων ἐμαυτὸν ἐνσέσεικα. τίνος ἕνεκα, ὦ θεοί, ἢ τίς ὁ λαμπρὸς οὗτος μισθός ἐστιν; οὐ γὰρ καὶ ἄλλως μοι πλείω τούτων ἐκπορίζειν δυνατὸν ἦν καὶ προσῆν τὸ ἐλεύθερον καὶ τὸ πάντα ἐπʼ ἐξουσίας; νῦν δὲ τὸ τοῦ λόγου, λέων κρόκῃ δεθείς, ἄνω καὶ κάτω περισύρομαι, τὸ πάντων οἴκτιστον, οὐκ εὐδοκιμεῖν εἰδὼς οὐδὲ κεχαρισμένος εἶναι δυνάμενος. ἰδιώτης γὰρ ἔγωγε τῶν τοιούτων καὶ ἄτεχνος, καὶ μάλιστα παραβαλλόμενος ἀνδράσι τέχνην τὸ πρᾶγμα πεποιημένοις, ὥστε καὶ ἀχάριστός εἰμι καὶ ἥκιστα συμποτικός, οὐδʼ ὅσον γέλωτα ποιῆσαι δυνάμενος. συνίημι δὲ ὡς καὶ ἐνοχλῶ πολλάκις βλεπόμενος, καὶ μάλισθʼ ὅταν ἡδίων αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ εἶναι θέλῃ· σκυθρωπὸς γὰρ αὐτῷ δοκῶ. καὶ ὅλως οὐκ ἔχω ὅπως ἁρμόσωμαι πρὸς αὐτόν. ἢν μὲν γὰρ ἐπὶ τοῦ σεμνοῦ φυλάττω ἐμαυτόν, ἀηδὴς ἔδοξα καὶ μονονουχὶ φευκτέος· ἢν δὲ μειδιάσω καὶ ῥυθμίσω τὸ πρόσωπον εἰς τὸ ἥδιστον, κατεφρόνησεν εὐθὺς καὶ διέπτυσεν, καὶ τὸ πρᾶγμα ὅμοιον δοκεῖ ὥσπερ ἂν εἴ τις κωμῳδίαν ὑποκρίναιτο τραγικὸν προσωπεῖον περικείμενος. τὸ δʼ ὅλον, τίνα ἄλλον ὁ μάταιος ἐμαυτῷ βιώσομαι βίον τὸν παρόντα τοῦτον ἄλλῳ βεβιωκώς;

[¶10] 31. Your soliloquy is interrupted by the bell. The old routine awaits you: you must trudge, and you must stand; and first anoint your limbs, if you would hold out to the end. Dinner will be the same as ever, and go on as late as ever. The change from all your former habits, the wakeful night, the violent exercise, the exhaustion, are slowly undermining your health at this moment, and preparing you for consumption or colic, for asthma or the delights of gout. However, you hold out in spite of all, though many a time your right place would be in bed. But that would never do: that looks like shamming, like shirking your work. The result is that you grow as pallid as a man at the point of death.

> Greek: 31. ἔτι σου ταῦτα διαλογιζομένου ὁ κώδων ἤχησεν, καὶ χρὴ τῶν ὁμοίων ἔχεσθαι καὶ περινοστεῖν καὶ ἑστάναι, ὑπαλείψαντά γε πρότερον τοὺς βουβῶνας καὶ τὰς ἰγνύας, εἰ θέλεις διαρκέσαι πρὸς τὸν ἆθλον. εἶτα δεῖπνον ὅμοιον καὶ εἰς τὴν αὐτὴν ὥραν περιηγμένον. καί σοι τὰ τῆς διαίτης πρὸς τὸν πάλαι βίον ἀντίστροφα, καὶ ἡ ἀγρυπνία δὲ καὶ ὁ ἱδρὼς καὶ ὁ κάματος ἠρέμα ἤδη ὑπορύττουσιν, ἢ φθόην ἢ περιπνευμονίαν ἢ κώλου ἄλγημα ἢ τὴν καλὴν ποδάγραν ἀναπλάττοντες. ἀντέχεις δὲ ὅμως, καὶ πολλάκις κατακεῖσθαι δέον, οὐδὲ τοῦτο συγκεχώρηται· σκῆψις γὰρ ἡ νόσος καὶ φυγὴ τῶν καθηκόντων ἔδοξεν. ὥστʼ ἐξ ἁπάντων ὠχρὸς ἀεὶ καὶ ὅσον οὐδέπω τεθνηξομένῳ ἔοικας.

[¶11] 32. So much for your city life. And now for an excursion into the country. I will content myself with a single detail. As likely as not it is awet day. Your turn for the carriage (as might be expected) comes last. You wait and wait, till at last its return is out of the question, and you are squeezed into some vehicle with the cook, or with my lady’s friseur, without even a proper allowance of straw.

> Greek: 32. καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν τῇ πόλει ταῦτα. ἢν δέ που καὶ ἀποδημῆσαι δέῃ, τὰ μὲν ἄλλα ἐῶ· ὕοντος δὲ πολλάκις ὕστατος ἐλθὼν — τοιοῦτο γάρ σοι ἀποκεκλήρωται καὶ τὸ ζεῦγος — περιμένεις ἔστʼ ἂν οὐκέτʼ οὔσης καταγωγῆς τῷ μαγείρῳ σε ἢ τῷ τῆς δεσποίνης κομμωτῇ συμπαραβύσωσιν, οὐδὲ τῶν φρυγάνων δαψιλῶς ὑποβαλόντες.

[¶12] 33. I shall make no scruple of relating to you an experience of Thesmopolis the Stoic, which I had from his own mouth; a most amusing incident, and just the sort of thing one might expect to find happening again. He was in the service of a certain wealthy and luxurious lady of quality, whom on one occasion he had to accompany on a journey from Rome. The fun began at once. The philosopher received as his travelling companion a beardless exquisite of the pitch-plastering persuasion, by whom, you may be certain, my lady set great store; his name, she informed the philosopher, was ‘Robinetta.’ Is not this a promising start?—the grave and reverend Thesmopolis, with his hoary beard (you know what a long, venerable affair it is), side by side with this rouged and painted ogler, whose drooping neck and plucked throat suggested the yulture rather than the robin! 'Twas all that Thesmopolis could do to persuade him not to wear his hair-net; and as it was he had a sad journey of it, with the fellow singing and whistling all the time—I daresay he would have danced there and then, if Thesmopolis had not prevented him.

> Greek: 33. οὐκ ὀκνῶ δέ σοι καὶ διηγήσασθαι ὅ μοι Θεσμόπολις οὗτος ὁ Στωϊκὸς διηγήσατο συμβὰν αὐτῷ πάνυ γελοῖον καὶ νὴ Δίʼ οὐκ ἀνέλπιστον ὡς ἂν καὶ ἄλλῳ ταὐτὸν συμβαίη. συνῆν μὲν γὰρ πλουσίᾳ τινὶ καὶ τρυφώσῃ γυναικὶ τῶν ἐπιφανῶν ἐν τῇ πόλει. δεῆσαν δὲ καὶ ἀποδημῆσαί ποτε, τὸ μὲν πρῶτον ἐκεῖνο παθεῖν ἔφη γελοιότατον, συγκαθέζεσθαι γὰρ αὐτῷ παραδεδόσθαι φιλοσόφῳ ὄντι κίναιδόν τινα τῶν πεπιττωμένων τὰ σκέλη καὶ τὸν πώγωνα περιεξυρημένων· διὰ τιμῆς δʼ αὐτὸν ἐκείνη, ὡς τὸ εἰκός, ἦγεν. καὶ τοὔνομα δὲ τοῦ κιναίδου ἀπεμνημόνευεν· Χελιδόνιον γὰρ καλεῖσθαι. τοῦτο τοίνυν πρῶτον ἡλίκον, σκυθρωπῷ καὶ γέροντι ἀνδρὶ καὶ πολιῷ τὸ γένειον — οἶσθα δὲ ὡς βαθὺν πώγωνα καὶ σεμνὸν ὁ Θεσμόπολις εἶχεν — παρακαθίζεσθαι φῦκος ἐντετριμμένον καὶ ὑπογεγραμμένον τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς καὶ διασεσαλευμένον τὸ βλέμμα καὶ τὸν τράχηλον ἐπικεκλασμένον, οὐ χελιδόνα μὰ Δίʼ, ἀλλὰ γῦπά τινα περιτετιλμένον τὰ πτερά· καὶ εἴ γε μὴ πολλὰ δεηθῆναι αὐτοῦ, καὶ τὸν κεκρύφαλον ἔχοντα ἐπὶ τῇ κεφαλῇ ἂν συγκαθίζεσθαι. τὰ δʼ οὖν ἄλλα παρʼ ὅλην τὴν ὁδὸν μυρίας τὰς ἀηδίας ἀνασχέσθαι ὑπᾴδοντος καὶ τερετίζοντος, εἰ δὲ μὴ ἐπεῖχεν αὐτός, ἴσως ἂν καὶ ὀρχουμένου ἐπὶ τῆς ἀπήνης.

[¶13] 34. But there was more to come, as you will see. ‘Thesmopolis,’ cries my lady, calling him to her, ‘I have a great favour to ask of you; now please don’t say no, and don’t wait to be asked twice, there’s a good creature.’ Of course, he said he would do anything she wished. ‘I only ask you, because I know you are to be trusted; you are so good-natured and affectionate! I want you to take my little dog Myrrhina in with you, and see that she wants for nothing. Poor little lady! she is soon to become a mother. These hateful, inattentive servants take no notice of me when we are travelling, much less of her. You will be doing me a great kindness, I assure you, in taking charge of her; I am so fond of the sweet little pet!’ She prayed and almost wept; and Thesmopolis promised. Imagine the ludicrous picture. The little beast peeping out from beneath the philosophic cloak; within licking distance of that beard, which perhaps still held traces of the thick soup of yesterday; yapping away with its shrill pipe of a voice, as Maltese terriers will; and no doubt taking other liberties, which Thesmopolis did not think worth mentioning. That night at dinner, the exquisite, his fellow traveller, after cracking a passable joke here and there at the expense of the other guests, came to Thesmopolis. ‘Of him,’ he remarked, ‘I have only this to say, that our Stoic has turned Cynic.’ According to what I heard, the little animal actually littered in his mantle!

> Greek: 34. ἕτερον δʼ οὖν τι καὶ τοιοῦτον αὐτῷ προσταχθῆναι. καλέσασα γὰρ αὐτὸν ἡ γυνή, Θεσμόπολι, φησίν, οὕτως ὄναιο, χάριν οὐ μικρὰν αἰτούσῃ δὸς μηδὲν ἀντειπὼν μηδὲ ὅπως ἐπὶ πλεῖόν σου δεήσομαι περιμείνας. τοῦ δέ, ὅπερ εἰκὸς ἦν, ὑποσχομένου πάντα πράξειν, δέομαί σου τοῦτο, ἔφη, χρηστὸν ὁρῶσά σε καὶ ἐπιμελῆ καὶ φιλόστοργον, τὴν κύνα ἣν οἶσθα τὴν Μυρρίνην ἀναλαβὼν εἰς τὸ ὄχημα φύλαττέ μοι καὶ ἐπιμελοῦ ὅπως μηδενὸς ἐνδεὴς ἔσται· βαρύνεται γὰρ ἡ ἀθλία τὴν γαστέρα καὶ σχεδὸν ὡς ἐπίτεξ ἐστίν· οἱ δὲ κατάρατοι οὗτοι καὶ ἀπειθεῖς οἰκέται οὐχ ὅπως ἐκείνης, ἀλλʼ οὐδʼ ἐμοῦ αὐτῆς πολὺν ποιοῦνται λόγον ἐν ταῖς ὁδοῖς. μὴ τοίνυν τι σμικρὸν οἰηθῇς εὖ ποιήσειν με τὸ περισπούδαστόν μοι καὶ ἥδιστον κυνίδιον διαφυλάξας. ὑπέσχετο ὁ Θεσμόπολις πολλὰ ἱκετευούσης καὶ μονονουχὶ καὶ δακρυούσης. τὸ δὲ πρᾶγμα παγγέλοιον ἦν, κυνίδιον ἐκ τοῦ ἱματίου προκῦπτον μικρὸν ὑπὸ τὸν πώγωνα καὶ κατουρῆσαν πολλάκις, εἰ καὶ μὴ ταῦτα ὁ Θεσμόπολις προσετίθει, καὶ βαΰζον λεπτῇ τῇ φωνῇ — τοιαῦτα γὰρ τὰ Μελιταῖα — καὶ τὸ γένειον τοῦ φιλοσόφου περιλιχμώμενον, καὶ μάλιστα εἴ τι τοῦ χθιζοῦ αὐτῷ ζωμοῦ ἐγκατεμέμικτο. καὶ ὅ γε κίναιδος, ὁ σύνεδρος, οὐκ ἀμούσως ποτὲ καὶ εἰς τοὺς ἄλλους τοὺς παρόντας ἐν τῷ συμποσίῳ ἀποσκώπτων, ἐπειδή ποτε καὶ ἐπὶ τὸν Θεσμόπολιν καθῆκε τὸ σκῶμμα, περὶ δὲ Θεσμοπόλιδος, ἔφη, τοῦτο μόνον εἰπεῖν ἔχω, ὅτι ἀντὶ Στωϊκοῦ ἤδη Κυνικὸς ἡμῖν γεγένηται. τὸ δʼ οὖν κυνίδιον καὶ τετοκέναι ἐν τῷ τρίβωνι τῷ τοῦ Θεσμοπόλιδος ἐπυθόμην.

[¶14] 35. Such are the caprices, nay, the insults, let me rather say, with which the patron gradually breaks the spirit of his dependants. I know myself of an orator, a very free speaker, who was actually ordered to stand up and deliver a speech at table; and a masterly speech it was, trenchant and terse. He received the congratulations of the company on being timed by a wine- instead of a water-clock; and this affront, it is said, he was content to put up, for the consideration of £8. But what of that? Wait till you get a patron who has poetical or historical tendencies, and spouts passages of his own works all through dinner: you must praise, you must flatter, you must devise original compliments for him,—or die in the attempt. Then there are the beaux, the Adonises and Hyacinths, as you must be careful to call them, undeterred by the eighteen inches or so of nose that some of them carry on their faces. Do your praises halt? 'Tis envy,’tis treason! Away with you, Philoxenus that you are, to Syracusan quarries!—Let them be orators, let them be philosophers, if they will: what matter for a solecism here and there? Find Attic elegance, find honey of Hymettus in every word; and pronounce it law henceforth, to speak as they speak.

> Greek: 35. τοιαῦτα ἐντρυφῶσι, μᾶλλον δὲ ἐνυβρίζουσι τοῖς συνοῦσι, κατὰ μικρὸν αὐτοὺς χειροήθεις τῇ ὕβρει παρασκευάζοντες. οἶδα δʼ ἐγὼ καὶ ῥήτορα τῶν καρχάρων ἐπὶ τῷ δείπνῳ κελευσθέντα μελετήσαντα μὰ τὸν Δίʼ οὐκ ἀπαιδεύτως, ἀλλὰ πάνυ τορῶς καὶ συγκεκροτημένως· ἐπῃνεῖτο γοῦν μεταξὺ πινόντων οὐ πρὸς ὕδωρ μεμετρημένον, ἀλλὰ πρὸς οἴνου ἀμφορέας λέγων, καὶ τοῦτο ὑποστῆναι τὸ τόλμημα ἐπὶ διακοσίαις δραχμαῖς ἐλέγετο. ταῦτα μὲν οὖν ἴσως μέτρια. ἢν δὲ ποιητικὸς αὐτὸς ἢ συγγραφικὸς ὁ πλούσιος ᾖ, παρὰ τὸ δεῖπνον τὰ αὑτοῦ ῥαψῳδῶν, τότε καὶ μάλιστα διαρραγῆναι χρὴ ἐπαινοῦντα καὶ κολακεύοντα καὶ τρόπους ἐπαίνων καινοτέρους ἐπινοοῦντα. εἰσὶ δʼ οἳ καὶ ἐπὶ κάλλει θαυμάζεσθαι ἐθέλουσιν, καὶ δεῖ Ἀδώνιδας αὐτοὺς καὶ Ὑακίνθους ἀκούειν, πήχεως ἐνίοτε τὴν ῥῖνα ἔχοντας. σὺ δʼ οὖν ἂν μὴ ἐπαινῇς, εἰς τὰς λιθοτομίας τὰς Διονυσίου εὐθὺς ἀφίξῃ ὡς καὶ φθονῶν καὶ ἐπιβουλεύων αὐτῷ. χρὴ δὲ καὶ σοφοὺς καὶ ῥήτορας εἶναι αὐτούς, κἂν εἴ τι σολοικίσαντες τύχωσιν, αὐτὸ τοῦτο τῆς Ἀττικῆς καὶ τοῦ Ὑμηττοῦ μεστοὺς δοκεῖν τοὺς λόγους καὶ νόμον εἶναι τὸ λοιπὸν οὕτω λέγειν.

[¶15] 36. If we had only men to deal with, it would be something: but there are the women too. For among the objects of feminine ambition is this, of having a scholar or two in their pay, to dance attendance at the litter’s side; it adds one more to the list of their adornments, if they can get the reputation of culture and philosophy, of turning a song which will bear comparison with Sappho’s. So they too keep their philosopher, their orator, or their Jittérateur; and give him audience— when, think you? Why, at the toilet, by all that is ridiculous, among the rouge-pots and hair-brushes; or else at the dinnertable. They have no leisure at other times. As it is, the philosopher is often interrupted by the entrance of a maid with a billet-doux. Virtue has then to bide her time; for the audience will not be resumed till the gallant has his answer.

> Greek: 36. καίτοι φορητὰ ἴσως τὰ τῶν ἀνδρῶν. αἱ δὲ οὖν γυναῖκες — καὶ γὰρ αὖ καὶ τόδε ὑπὸ τῶν γυναικῶν σπουδάζεται, τὸ εἶναί τινας αὐταῖς πεπαιδευμένους μισθοῦ ὑποτελεῖς συνόντας καὶ τῷ φορείῳ ἑπομένους· ἓν γάρ τι καὶ τοῦτο τῶν ἄλλων καλλωπισμάτων αὐταῖς δοκεῖ, ἢν λέγηται ὡς πεπαιδευμέναι τέ εἰσιν καὶ φιλόσοφοι καὶ ποιοῦσιν ᾄσματα οὐ πολὺ τῆς Σαπφοῦς ἀποδέοντα — διὰ δὴ ταῦτα μισθωτοὺς καὶ αὗται περιάγονται ῥήτορας καὶ γραμματικοὺς καὶ φιλοσόφους, ἀκροῶνται δʼ αὐτῶν — πηνίκα; γελοῖον γὰρ καὶ τοῦτο — ἤτοι μεταξὺ κομμούμεναι καὶ τὰς κόμας παραπλεκόμεναι ἢ παρὰ τὸ δεῖπνον· ἄλλοτε γὰρ οὐκ ἄγουσι σχολήν. πολλάκις δὲ καὶ μεταξὺ τοῦ φιλοσόφου τι διεξιόντος ἡ ἅβρα προσελθοῦσα ὤρεξε παρὰ τοῦ μοιχοῦ γραμμάτιον, οἱ δὲ περὶ σωφροσύνης ἐκεῖνοι λόγοι ἑστᾶσι περιμένοντες, ἔστʼ ἂν ἐκείνη ἀντιγράψασα τῷ μοιχῷ ἐπαναδράμῃ πρὸς τὴν ἀκρόασιν.

[¶16] 37. At rare intervals, at the Saturnalia or the Feast of Minerva, you will be presented with a sorry cloak, or a worn-out tunic; and a world of ceremony will go to the presentation. The first who gets wind of the great man’s intention flies to you with the news of what is in store for you; and the bringer of glad tidings does not go away empty-handed. The next morning a dozen of them arrive, conveying the present, each with his tale of how he spoke up for you, or the hints he threw out, or how he was entrusted with the choice, and chose the best. Not a man of them but departs with your money in his pocket, grumbling that it is no more.

> Greek: 37. ἐπειδὰν δέ ποτε διὰ μακροῦ τοῦ χρόνου Κρονίων ἢ Παναθηναίων ἐπιστάντων πέμπηταί τί σοι ἐφεστρίδιον ἄθλιον ἢ χιτώνιον ὑπόσαθρον, ἐνταῦθα μάλιστα πολλὴν δεῖ καὶ μεγάλην γενέσθαι τὴν πομπήν. καὶ ὁ μὲν πρῶτος εὐθὺς ἔτι σκεπτομένου παρακούσας τοῦ δεσπότου προδραμὼν καὶ προμηνύσας ἀπέρχεται μισθὸν οὐκ ὀλίγον τῆς ἀγγελίας προλαβών. ἕωθεν δὲ τρισκαίδεκα ἥκουσιν κομίζοντες, ἕκαστος ὡς πολλὰ εἶπε καὶ ὡς ὑπέμνησε καὶ ὡς ἐπιτραπεὶς τὸ κάλλιον ἐπελέξατο διεξιών. ἅπαντες δʼ οὖν ἀπαλλάττονται λαβόντες, ἔτι καὶ βρενθυόμενοι ὅτι μὴ πλείω ἔδωκας.

[¶17] 38. As to that salary, it will be paid to you sixpence at a time, and there will be black looks when you ask for it. Still, you must get it somehow. Ply your patron therefore with flatteries and entreaties, and pay due observance to his steward, and let it be the kind of observance that stewards like best; nor must you forget your kind introducer. You do get something at last; but it all goes to pay the tailor, the doctor, or the shoemaker, and you are left the proud possessor of nothing at all.

> Greek: 38. ὁ μὲν γὰρ μισθὸς αὐτὸς κατὰ δῠ ὀβολοὺς ἢ τέτταρας, καὶ βαρὺς αἰτῶν σὺ καὶ ὀχληρὸς δοκεῖς. ἵνα δʼ οὖν λάβῃς, κολακευτέος μὲν αὐτὸς καὶ ἱκετευτέος, θεραπευτέος δὲ καὶ ὁ οἰκονόμος, οὗτος μὲν κατʼ ἄλλον θεραπείας τρόπον· οὐκ ἀμελητέος δὲ οὐδὲ ὁ σύμβουλος καὶ φίλος. καὶ τὸ ληφθὲν ἤδη προωφείλετο ἱματιοκαπήλῳ ἢ ἰατρῷ ἢ σκυτοτόμῳ τινί. ἄδωρα οὖν σοι τὰ δῶρα καὶ ἀνόνητα.

[¶18] 39. Meanwhile, jealousy is rife, and some slander is perhaps working its stealthy way to ears which are predisposed to hear anything to your discredit. For your employer perceives that by this time incessant fatigues have worn you out; you are crippled, you are good for nothing more, and gout is coming on. All the profit that was to be had of you, he has effectually sucked out. Your prime has gone by, your bodily vigour is exhausted, you are a tattered remnant. He begins to look about for a convenient dunghill whereon to deposit you, and for an ablebodied substitute to do your work. You have attempted the honour of one of his minions: you have been trying to corrupt his wife’s maid, venerable sinner that you are!—any accusation will serve. You are gagged and turned out neck and crop into the darkness. Away you go, helpless and destitute, with gout’ for the cheering companion of your old age. Whatever you once knew, you have unlearnt in all these years: on the other hand, you have developed a paunch like a balloon; a monster insatiable, inexorable, which has acquired a habit of asking for more, and likes not at all the unlearning process.

> Greek: 39. πολὺς δὲ ὁ φθόνος, καί που καὶ διαβολή τις ἠρέμα ὑπεξανίσταται πρὸς ἄνδρα ἤδη τοὺς κατὰ σοῦ λόγους ἡδέως ἐνδεχόμενον· ὁρᾷ γὰρ ἤδη σὲ μὲν ὑπὸ τῶν συνεχῶν πόνων ἐκτετρυχωμένον καὶ πρὸς τὴν θεραπείαν σκάζοντα καὶ ἀπηυδηκότα, τὴν ποδάγραν δὲ ὑπανιοῦσαν. ὅλως γὰρ ὅπερ ἦν νοστιμώτατον ἐν σοὶ ἀπανθισάμενος καὶ τὸ ἐγκαρπότατον τῆς ἡλικίας καὶ τὸ ἀκμαιότατον τοῦ σώματος ἐπιτρίψας καὶ ῥάκος σε πολυσχιδὲς ἐργασάμενος ἤδη περιβλέπει, σὲ μὲν οἷ τῆς κόπρου ἀπορρίψει φέρων, ἄλλον δὲ ὅπως τῶν δυναμένων τοὺς πόνους καρτερεῖν προσλήψεται. καὶ ἤτοι μειράκιον αὐτοῦ ὅτι ἐπείρασάς ποτε ἢ τῆς γυναικὸς ἅβραν παρθένον γέρων ἀνὴρ διαφθείρεις ἢ ἄλλο τι τοιοῦτον ἐπικληθείς, νύκτωρ ἐγκεκαλυμμένος ἐπὶ τράχηλον ὠσθεὶς ἐξελήλυθας, ἔρημος ἁπάντων καὶ ἄπορος, τὴν βελτίστην ποδάγραν αὐτῷ γήρᾳ παραλαβών, καὶ ἃ μὲν τέως ᾔδεις ἀπομαθὼν ἐν τοσούτῳ χρόνῳ, θυλάκου δὲ μείζω τὴν γαστέρα ἐργασάμενος, ἀπλήρωτόν τι καὶ ἀπαραίτητον κακόν. καὶ γὰρ ὁ λαιμὸς ἀπαιτεῖ τὰ ἐκ τοῦ ἔθους καὶ ἀπομανθάνων αὐτὰ ἀγανακτεῖ.

[¶19] 40. It is not to be supposed that any one else will give you employment, at your age; you are like an old horse, whose very hide has deteriorated in value. Not to mention that the worst interpretation will be put upon your late dismissal; you will be credited with adultery, or poisoning, or something of that kind. Your accuser, you see, is convincing even in silence; whereas you—you are a loose-principled, unscrupulous Greek. That is the character we Greeks bear; and it serves us right; I see excellent grounds for the opinion they have of us. Greek after Greek who enters their service sets up (in default of any other practical knowledge) for wizard or poisoner, and deals in love-charms and evil spells; and these are they who talk of culture, who wear grey beards and philosophic cloaks! When these, who are accounted the best of us, stand thus exposed, when men observe their interested servility, their gross flatteries at table and elsewhere, it is not to be wondered at that we have all fallen under suspicion.

> Greek: 40. καί σε οὐκ ἄν τις ἄλλος δέξαιτο ἔξωρον ἤδη γεγονότα καὶ τοῖς γεγηρακόσιν ἵπποις ἐοικότα, ὧν οὐδὲ τὸ δέρμα ὁμοίως χρήσιμον. ἄλλως τε καὶ ἡ ἐκ τοῦ ἀπωσθῆναι διαβολὴ πρὸς τὸ μεῖζον εἰκαζομένη μοιχὸν ἢ φαρμακέα σε ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἄλλο δοκεῖν ποιεῖ· ὁ μὲν γὰρ κατήγορος καὶ σιωπῶν ἀξιόπιστος, σὺ δὲ Ἕλλην καὶ ῥᾴδιος τὸν τρόπον καὶ πρὸς πᾶσαν ἀδικίαν εὔκολος. τοιούτους γὰρ ἅπαντας ἡμᾶς εἶναι οἴονται, καὶ μάλα εἰκότως· δοκῶ γάρ μοι καὶ τῆς τοιαύτης δόξης αὐτῶν, ἣν ἔχουσι περὶ ἡμῶν, κατανενοηκέναι τὴν αἰτίαν. πολλοὶ γὰρ εἰς τὰς οἰκίας παρελθόντες ὑπὲρ τοῦ μηδὲν ἄλλο χρήσιμον εἰδέναι μαντείας καὶ φαρμακείας ὑπέσχοντο καὶ χάριτας ἐπὶ τοῖς ἐρωτικοῖς καὶ ἐπαγωγὰς τοῖς ἐχθροῖς, καὶ ταῦτα πεπαιδεῦσθαι λέγοντες καὶ τρίβωνας ἀμπεχόμενοι καὶ πώγωνας οὐκ εὐκαταφρονήτους καθειμένοι. εἰκότως οὖν τὴν ὁμοίαν περὶ πάντων ὑπόνοιαν ἔχουσιν, οὓς ἀρίστους ᾤοντο τοιούτους ὁρῶντες, καὶ μάλιστα ἐπιτηροῦντες αὐτῶν τὴν ἐν τοῖς δείπνοις καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ συνουσίᾳ κολακείαν καὶ τὴν πρὸς τὸ κέρδος δουλοπρέπειαν.

[¶20] 41. Those whom they have cast off, they hate, and seek to make an end of them altogether; arguing, naturally enough, that men who know their secrets, and have seen them in all their nakedness, may divulge many a foible which will not bear the light; and the thought is torment to them. The fact is, that these great men are for all the world like handsomely bound books. Outside are the gilt edges and the purple cover: and within? a Thyestes feasts upon his own children; an Oedipus commits incest with his mother; a Tereus woos two sisters at once. Such are these human books: their brilliancy attracts all eyes, but between the purple covers lurks many a horrid tale. Turn over the pages of any one of them, and you find a drama worthy the pen of Sophocles or Euripides: close the volume—all is gilt edge and exquisite tooling. Well may they hate the confidants of such crimes, and plot their destruction! What if the outcast should take to rehearsing in public the tragedy that he has got by heart?

> Greek: 41. ἀποσεισάμενοι δὲ αὐτοὺς μισοῦσι, καὶ μάλα εἰκότως, καὶ ἐξ ἅπαντος ζητοῦσιν ὅπως ἄρδην ἀπολέσωσιν, ἢν δύνωνται· λογίζονται γὰρ ὡς ἐξαγορεύσουσιν αὐτῶν τὰ πολλὰ ἐκεῖνα τῆς φύσεως ἀπόρρητα ὡς ἅπαντα εἰδότες ἀκριβῶς καὶ γυμνοὺς αὐτοὺς ἐπωπτευκότες. τοῦτο τοίνυν ἀποπνίγει αὐτούς· ἅπαντες γὰρ ἀκριβῶς ὅμοιοί εἰσιν τοῖς καλλίστοις τούτοις βιβλίοις, ὧν χρυσοῖ μὲν οἱ ὀμφαλοί, πορφυρᾶ δὲ ἔκτοσθεν ἡ διφθέρα, τὰ δὲ ἔνδον ἢ Θυέστης ἐστὶν τῶν τέκνων ἑστιώμενος ἢ Οἰδίπους τῇ μητρὶ συνὼν ἢ Τηρεὺς δύο ἀδελφὰς ἅμα ὀπυίων. τοιοῦτοι καὶ αὐτοί εἰσι, λαμπροὶ καὶ περίβλεπτοι, ἔνδον δὲ ὑπὸ τῇ πορφύρᾳ πολλὴν τὴν τραγῳδίαν σκέποντες· ἕκαστον γοῦν αὐτῶν ἢν ἐξειλήσῃς, δρᾶμα οὐ μικρὸν εὑρήσεις Εὐριπίδου τινὸς ἢ Σοφοκλέους, τὰ δʼ ἔξω πορφύρα εὐανθὴς καὶ χρυσοῦς ὁ ὀμφαλός. ταῦτα οὖν συνεπιστάμενοι αὑτοῖς, μισοῦσι καὶ ἐπιβουλεύουσιν εἴ τις ἀποστὰς ἀκριβῶς κατανενοηκὼς αὐτοὺς ἐκτραγῳδήσει καὶ πρὸς πολλοὺς ἐρεῖ.

[¶21] 42. I am minded to give you, after the manner of Cebes, a life-picture of Dependence; with this before your eyes, you may judge for yourself, whether it is the life for you. I would gladly call in the aid of an Apelles or a Parrhasius, an Aetion or a Euphranor, but no such perfect painters are to be found in these days; I must sketch you the picture in outline as best I can. I begin then with tall golden gates, not set in the plain, but high upon a hill. Long and steep and slippery is the ascent; and many a time when a man looks to reach the top, his foot slips, and he is plunged headlong. Within the gates sits Wealth, a figure all of gold (so at least she seems); most fair, most lovely. Her lover painfully scales the height, and draws near to the door; and that golden sight fills him with amazement. The beautiful woman in gorgeous raiment who now takes him by the hand is Hope. As she leads him in, his spirit is stricken with awe. Hope still shows the way; but two others, Despair and Servitude, now take charge of him, and conduct him to Toil, who grinds the poor wretch down with labour, and at last hands him over to Age. He looks sickly now, and all his colour is gone. Last comes Contempt, and laying violent hands on him drags him into the presence of Despair; it is now time for Hope to take wing and vanish. Naked, potbellied, pale and old, he is thrust forth, not by those golden gates by which he entered, but by some obscure back-passage. One hand covers his nakedness; with the other he would fain strangle himself. Now let Regret meet him without, dropping vain tears and heaping misery on misery,—and my picture is complete. Examine it narrowly in all its details, and see whether you life the idea of going in at my golden front door, to be expelled ignominiously at the back, And whichever way you decide, remember the words of the wise man: ‘Blame not Heaven, but your own choice.’ Francis George Fowler

> Greek: 42. βούλομαι δʼ ὅμως ἔγωγε ὥσπερ ὁ Κέβης ἐκεῖνος εἰκόνα τινὰ τοῦ τοιούτου βίου σοι γράψαι, ὅπως εἰς ταύτην ἀποβλέπων εἰδῇς εἴ σοι παριτητέον ἐστὶν εἰς αὐτήν. ἡδέως μὲν οὖν Ἀπελλοῦ τινος ἢ Παρρασίου ἢ Ἀετίωνος ἢ καὶ Εὐφράνορος ἂν ἐδεήθην ἐπὶ τὴν γραφήν· ἐπεὶ δὲ ἄπορον νῦν εὑρεῖν τινα οὕτως γενναῖον καὶ ἀκριβῆ τὴν τέχνην, ψιλὴν ὡς οἷόν τέ σοι ἐπιδείξω τὴν εἰκόνα. καὶ δὴ γεγράφθω προπύλαια μὲν ὑψηλὰ καὶ ἐπίχρυσα καὶ μὴ κάτω ἐπὶ τοῦ ἐδάφους, ἀλλʼ ἄνω τῆς γῆς ἐπὶ λόφου κείμενα, καὶ ἡ ἄνοδος ἐπὶ πολὺ καὶ ἀνάντης καὶ ὄλισθον ἔχουσα, ὡς πολλάκις ἤδη πρὸς τῷ ἄκρῳ ἔσεσθαι ἐλπίσαντας ἐκτραχηλισθῆναι διαμαρτόντος τοῦ ποδός. ἔνδον δὲ ὁ Πλοῦτος αὐτὸς καθήσθω χρυσοῦς ὅλος, ὡς δοκεῖ, πάνυ εὔμορφος καὶ ἐπέραστος. ὁ δὲ ἐραστὴς μόλις ἀνελθὼν καὶ πλησιάσας τῇ θύρᾳ τεθηπέτω ἀφορῶν εἰς τὸ χρυσίον. παραλαβοῦσα δʼ αὐτὸν ἡ Ἐλπίς, εὐπρόσωπος καὶ αὕτη καὶ ποικίλα ἀμπεχομένη, εἰσαγέτω σφόδρα ἐκπεπληγμένον τῇ εἰσόδῳ. τοὐντεῦθεν δὲ ἡ μὲν Ἐλπὶς ἀεὶ προηγείσθω, διαδεξάμεναι δʼ αὐτὸν ἄλλαι γυναῖκες, Ἀπάτη καὶ Δουλεία, παραδότωσαν τῷ Πόνῳ, ὁ δὲ πολλὰ τὸν ἄθλιον καταγυμνάσας τελευτῶν ἐγχειρισάτω αὐτὸν τῷ Γήρᾳ ἤδη ὑπονοσοῦντα καὶ τετραμμένον τὴν χρόαν. ὑστάτη δὲ ἡ Ὕβρις ἐπιλαβομένη συρέτω πρὸς τὴν Ἀπόγνωσιν. ἡ δὲ Ἐλπὶς τὸ ἀπὸ τούτου ἀφανὴς ἀποπτέσθω, καὶ μηκέτι καθʼ οὓς εἰσῆλθε τοὺς χρυσοῦς θυρῶνας, ἔκ τινος δὲ ἀποστρόφου καὶ λεληθυίας ἐξόδου ἐξωθείσθω γυμνὸς προγάστωρ ὠχρὸς γέρων, τῇ ἑτέρᾳ μὲν τὴν αἰδῶ σκέπων, τῇ δεξιᾷ δὲ αὐτὸς ἑαυτὸν ἄγχων. ἀπαντάτω δʼ ἐξιόντι ἡ Μετάνοια δακρύουσα εἰς οὐδὲν ὄφελος καὶ τὸν ἄθλιον ἐπαπολλύουσα. τοῦτο μὲν ἔστω τὸ τέλος τῆς γραφῆς. σὺ δʼ οὖν, ὦ ἄριστε Τιμόκλεις, αὐτὸς ἤδη ἀκριβῶς ἐπισκοπῶν ἕκαστα ἐννόησον, εἴ σοι καλῶς ἔχει παρελθόντα εἰς τὴν εἰκόνα κατὰ ταύτας τὰς θύρας ἐκείνης τῆς ἔμπαλιν αἰσχρῶς οὕτως ἐκπεσεῖν. ὅ τι δʼ ἂν πράττῃς, μέμνησο τοῦ σοφοῦ λέγοντος ὡς θεὸς ἀναίτιος, αἰτία δὲ ἑλομένου.