They say you had all kinds of sport yesterday, Lycinus, at the house of Aristaenetus, at dinner, and that several speeches on philosophy were made, out of which quite a quarrel arose. Unless Charinus was lying, the affair even ended in wounds and the party was finally broken up by the shedding of blood.
Now how did Charinus know that, Philo? He did not dine with us.
He said that Dionicus, the doctor, told “him. Dionicus, I suppose, was one of the guests.
Yes, to be sure ; but even he was not there for all of it, from the very beginning: it was late and the battle was about half over when he came on the scene, a little before the wounds. So I am surprised that he could give a clear account of any of it, as he did not witness what led up to the quarrel that ended in bloodshed.
True, Lycinus; and for that very reason Charinus
told us, if we wanted to hear the truth of it and all
the details, to come to you, saying that Dionicus
It was rather a silly affair, Philo, and yet you want
me to publish it abroad and tell what happened when
heads were turned with wine, when it all should be
forgotten and the whole business put down'to a god— .
Dionysus, I mean, who scarcely permits anyone to
remain uninitiated in his rites and a stranger to his
revels. Don’t you think it rather bad form to
enquire into such matters minutely? The proper
thing is to leave them behind you in the diningroom when you go away. As you know, there is a
saying from the poets: “I hate to drink with him
that hath a memory.”
That is all put on, Lycinus. But you needn’t have
acted that way with me, for I know very well that
Don’t get angry! I will tell you, since you are so anxious, but don’t you tell a lot of people.
If I have not forgotten all I know of you, Lycinus, you will do that better than I can, and you will lose no time in telling everybody, so that I shan’t be needed.
But first tell me one thing—was it to celebrate the wedding of his son Zeno that Aristaenetus entertained you ?
No, he was marrying his daughter Cleanthis to the son of Eucritus the banker, the lad who is studying philosophy.
A very good-looking lad, to be sure; still immature, though, and hardly old enough to be married.
But he could not find anyone who suited him
better, I suppose. As this boy seemed to be
mannerly and had taken an interest in philosophy,
You give a very good reason in saying that Eucritus is rich. But come, Lycinus, who were the people at dinner ?
Why should I tell you all of them? The philosophers and literary men, whom, I suppose, you
are most eager to hear about, were Zenothemis, the
old man of the Porch,
Then, too, on account of Chaereas, the
bridegroom, Ion the Platonic philosopher, who is his
teacher, shared the feast—a grave and reverend
person to look at, with great dignity written on his
features. Indeed, most people call him “Rule,” out
of regard for the straightness of his thinking. When
he came in, they all arose in his honour and received
him like a supernatural being; in short it was a regular
divine visitation, the advent of Ion the marvellous.
By that time we had to take our places, for almost everyone was there. On the right as you enter, the women occupied the whole couch, as there were a good many of them, with the bride among them, very scrupulously veiled and hedged in by the women. Toward the back door came the rest of the company according to the esteem in which each was held.
Opposite the women, the first was Eucritus,
and then Aristaenetus. Then a question was raised
whether Zenothemis the Stoic should have _precedence, he being an old man, or Hermon the
Epicurean, because he was a priest of the Twin
Brethren and a member of the leading family in the
city. But Zenothemis solved the problem ; “Aristaenetus,” said he, “if you put me second to
this man here,— an Epicurean, to say nothing worse
of him,—I shall go away and leave you in full
possession of your board.” With that he called his
attendant and made as if to go out. So Hermon
said: “Take the place of honour, Zenothemis; but
you would have done well to yield to me because I
am a priest, if for no other reason, however much
you despise Epicurus.” “You make me laugh,’
said Zenothemis: “an Epicurean priest!’ With
these words he took his place, and Hermon next
him, in spite of what had passed ; then Cleodemus
the Peripatetic ; then Ion, and below him the bridegroom, then myself; beside me Diphilus, and
below him his pupil Zeno; and then the rhetorician
Dionysodorus and the grammarian Histiaeus,
Heavens, Lycinus, it’s a learned academy, this dinner party that you are telling of! Philosophers almost to a man. Good for Aristaenetus, I say, because in celebrating the greatest festival day that there is, he thought fit to entertain the most learned men in preference to the rest of the world, and culled the bloom, as it were, of every school, not including some and leaving out others, but asking all without discrimination.
Why, my dear fellow, he is not one of the common run of rich men; he is interested in culture and spends the better part of his time with these people.
Well, we dined peacefully at first, and were served with all sorts of dishes, but I don’t suppose there is any need of enumerating them—the sauces and pastries and ragouts. There was everything, and plenty of it. Meanwhile Cleodemus bent over to Ion and said : “Do you see the old man ?””—meaning Zenothemis: I was listening, you know. “How he stuffs himself with the dainties and has covered his cloak with soup, and how much food he hands to his attendant standing behind him! He thinks that the others do not see him, but he forgets the people at his back. Point it out to Lycinus, so that he can testify to it.’ But I had no need of Ion to point it out, for I had seen it all from my coign of vantage some time ago.
Just as Cleodemus said that, Alcidamas the Cynic
romped in uninvited, getting off the commonplace
joke about Menelaus coming of his own accord.
Aristaenetus commended him and bade him take a chair and sit beside Histiaeus and Dionysodorus. “Get out with you!” said he. “What you tell me to do is womanish and weak, to sit on a chair or on a stool, like yourselves on that soft bed, lying almost flat on your batks while you feast, with purple cloths under you. I shall take my dinner on my feet as I walk about the dining-room, and if I get tired I'll lie on the floor, leaning on my elbow, with my cloak under me, like Heracles in the pictures they paint of him.” “Very well,” said Aristaenetus ; “if you prefer it that way.” Then Alcidamas began to circle about for his dinner, shifting 1o richer pasturage as the Scythians do, and following the orbits of the waiters.
But even while he was eating
he was not idle, for he talked of virtue and vice all
the time, and scoffed at the gold and silver plate;
for example, he asked Aristaenetus what was the use
of all those great goblets when earthenware would
do just as well. But he had begun to be a bore by
By this time the cup was going round continually
among the rest of the party, there were toasts and
conversations, and the lights had been brought
in. Meanwhile, noticing that the boy in attendance ~
on Cleodemus, a handsome cup-bearer, was smiling
(I must tell all the incidents of the feast, I suppose,
especially whatever happened that was rather good),
I began to keep special watch to see what he
was smiling about. After a little while he went up
to Cleodemus as if to take the cup from him, and
Cleodemus pressed his finger and gave him two
drachmas, I think, along with the cup. The boy
responded to the pressure of his finger with another
smile, but no doubt did not perceive the money, so
that, through his not taking it, the two drachmas
fell and made a noise,.and they both blushed very
noticeably. Those near by them wondered whose
the coins were ; for the lad said he had not dropped
them, and Cleodemus, beside whom the noise was
made, pretended that he had not let them fall. So
the matter was disregarded and ignored, since not
The Cynic Alcidamas, who was tipsy by this time, enquired the name of the bride, and then, after calling for silence in a loud voice and fixing his eyes on the women, he said: “Cleanthis, I pledge you Heracles, my patron.” Since everybody laughed at that, he said: “Did you laugh, you scum of the earth, that I gave the bride a toast to our god Heracles? I’d have you to know that if she doesn’t accept the bowl from me, she will never have a son like me, invincible in courage, unfettered in intellect and as strong in body as I am,” and with that he bared himself still more, in the most shameless way. Again the guests laughed at all this, and he got up in anger with a fierce, wild look, clearly not intending to keep the peace any longer. Perhaps he would have hit someone with his staff if just in the nick of time a huge cake had not been brought in; but when he set eyes on that, he became calmer, put away his wrath, and began to walk about and stuff himself.
Most of the
When, as often happens, the service of the waiters was interrupted for a while, Aristaenetus planned to prevent even that period from being unentertaining and empty, and ordered the clown to come in and do or say something funny, in order to make his guests still merrier. In came an ugly fellow with his head shaven except for a few hairs that stood up straight on his crown. First he danced, doubling himself up and twisting himself about to cut a more ridiculous figure; then he beat time and recited scurrilous verses in an Egyptian brogue, and finally he began to poke fun at the guests.
The rest laughed when they were made
fun of, but when he took a fling at Alcidamas in
At that point Dionicus, the doctor, came in, not
long after the fray. He had been detained, he said,
to attend a man who had gone crazy, Polyprepon the
flute-player; and he told a funny story. He said
that he had gone. into the man’s room without
knowing that he was already affected by the trouble,
and that Polyprepon, getting out of bed quickly, had
locked the door, drawn a knife, handed him his flutes
and told him to begin playing; and then, because
he could not play, had beaten him with a strap on
the palms of his hands. At last in the face of so
great a peril, the doctor devised this scheme: he
challenged him to a match, the loser to get a certain
number of blows. First he himself played wretchedly, and then giving up the flutes to Polyprepon, he