Hermes Well, are you never going to begin?

Zeus I imagine, men of Olympus, that you would gladly give considerable sums to obtain an idea of what this matter may be with reference to which you are now summoned. This being the case, you will do well to lend me your ears with all eagerness. Now the present crisis, deities, wellnigh declares, with audible voice, that we must give all our energies to considering the matters before us, but, as a matter of fact, we seem to me to treat them with negligence. But I should like-my Demosthenes fails me—to explain to you why I was so much disturbed as to call an assembly. Yesterday, as you are aware, Mnesitheos, the ship-master, offered a sacrifice of thanksgiving for his ship that was almost lost off Kaphereus, and we feasted in the Peiraieusas many of us, that is, as Mnesitheos had invited to the banquet. After the libations you dispersed in different directions, pursuing your own devices, while I, seeing that it was not yet late, went up to the city to stroll about at dusk in the Kerameikos, pondering on the meanness of Mnesitheos. For he offered up, by way of feast to sixteen gods, one cock, aged and asthmatic at that, and four grains of frankincense, pretty well decayed, so that it went out immediately on the embers, and not enough fragrance came out of the smoke to tickle the tip of your nose. And yet when his ship was actually going on the rocks and within. the reef he promised whole hecatombs.

Well, revolving this in my mind, I turned up near the Painted Porch, and there I saw a great crowd of men gathered, some inside the porch itself, but most of them in the open air, and some were shouting, stretched out on the benches. I guessed what was the case: that they were philosophers of the eristic order, and I determined to stand by and listen to what they might say. I happened to have a cloud wrapped round me—a thick one-so I took on an exterior of their sort, drew forth my beard, and presented no bad imitation of a philosopher. And so I elbowed my way through the crowd and got inside without being recognized, and I found a violent controversy going on between that fox Damis the Epicurean and Timokles the Stoic, the best of men. Timokles was in a perspiration, and had lost his voice already with screaming, and Damis was exasperating him still further by sardonic mockery. Now, if you will believe it, their whole discussion was about us. Damis (confound him) declared that we have no forethought for men or guardianship of their affairs, asserting that we do not exist at all, for this was plainly the purport of his speech. And some there were who applauded him.

But the other, Timokles, took our side and fought for us, and excited himself, and did his best for us, praising our watchful care, and rehearsing how all things are arranged and reduced to regularity and order by us. He, too, had some applause, but he had already been speaking too long and his utterance was labored, so that the crowd looked away from him to Damis. Seeing what was at stake, I bade the night descend and break up the meeting, and so they went their ways, agreeing to examine the question completely the next day. I followed along with the crowd, and heard them praising Damis's arguments among themselves as they walked home, and already decidedly siding with him. But there were some, too, who did not think it right to decide beforehand between the rivals, but to wait and see what Timokles would say on the morrow.

These, deities, are my reasons for summoning you; no slight ones, if you consider that all our honor, revenue, and prestige come from men. And if they should be persuaded either that we do not exist at all or that we have no forethought for them, we shall have no more sacrifices and gifts and honor from earth, and we shall sit idly in heaven oppressed by hunger when we are deprived of those feasts and national holidays and games and sacrifices and vigils and processions. In such a crisis we all ought certainly to devise some means of safety by which Timokles may be victorious and be held to make the truer argument, and Damis may be jeered by the audience. For I myself have small confidence that Timokles will win by his own exertions unless he also receives assistance from us. Accordingly, Hermes, announce in due form that remarks are in order.

Hermes Hear ye, silence! Make no disturbance! Who wishes to speak, of those full-grown divinities whose right it is? What is this? Does no one rise? They are all silent, overwhelmed by the importance of the news.

MomosNow I would that you all might turn to earth and to water! But for my part, Zeus, if I am at liberty to speak with perfect freedom, I have a good many things to say.

Zeus Speak, Momos, without restraint. I am sure your frankness will be for our good.

Momos Hear, then, deities, what at any rate I think in my heart of hearts, as they say. You must know that I have been pretty confidently expecting that our affairs would come to as bad a pass as this, and that numbers of sophists like these would spring up against us, finding grounds for their temerity in our own conduct. By heaven, we have no right to be angry with Epicurus or with his disciples and successors if they have conceived these notions about us. What, then, could you ask them to think when they see such anarchy in human life, the best of them neglected, perishing utterly in poverty and disease and slavery, while worthless blackguards are preferred to them in honor, and surpass them in riches, and are placed in authority over their betters; when they see that sacrilege is not punished but escapes unnoticed, while sometimes innocent men are impaled on stakes and beaten to death? It is only natural, then, that when they see such things they decide as they do, that we have no existence at all,

particularly when they hear the oracles saying that if a certain man crosses the Halys he will overthrow a great kingdom, without specifying whether it will be his own kingdom or his enemy's. And then again the oracle says: Salamis, dear to the gods, thou shalt slay children of women. But I imagine both the Persians and the Greeks were children of women. And then when they hear from the minstrels how we fall in love, and receive wounds, and get put in chains and made servants, and are divided against ourselves, and have a myriad of troubles, all the time claiming to be blessed and indestructible, have they not a perfect right to jeer at us and make us of no account? But we get angry if certain persons who are human beings, and not altogether devoid of wits, sift these matters and deny our providence, whereas we ought to felicitate ourselves if any still continue to sacrifice to sinners like us.

And now, Zeus, give me an honest answer to a question-for we are alone, and there is no mortal present in the assembly, except Herakles and Dionysos and Ganymedes and Asklepios, who have somehow got naturalized among us—have you ever paid enough attention to the people on earth to distinguish the bad ones from the good? You cannot say you have. Certainly, unless Theseus on his way from Troizen to Athens had incidentally exterminated those malefactors, Skeiron and the Pine-Bender and Kerkyon and the others might have continued to live riotously by the slaughter of wayfarers, as far as you and your providence are concerned. And if Eurystheus, living in the earliest times and full of forethought, had not been moved by philanthropy to inquire into every one's affairs, and had not sent forth his servant here, an active man and keen for labors, you, Zeus, would have given small thought to the Hydra and the Stymphalian birds and the Thrakian horses and the drunken insolence of the Kentaurs.

On the contrary, if I must speak candidly, we sit and watch for just one thing, whether haply some one is sacrificing and sending up the savor of burnt-offerings beside the altars. Everything else drifts down stream as chance carries it. Accordingly, our present experience is natural, and what we have yet in store for us, too, when little by little mortals lift their heads and find that it does them no good to offer us sacrifices and pageants. Then you will soon see your Epicurus and your Metrodoros and your Damis jeering, and the speakers on our side overcome and stopped by them. Not that Momos has much to lose if he falls into disrepute, for I was never one of the reputable ones, even while you were still prosperous and had a monopoly of the sacrifices.

Zeus Do not mind this fellow's babble, deities, for he was always an ill-conditioned fault-finder. And, besides, in the words of the great Demosthenes, it is easy to criticise and blame and find fault-any one who likes can do that; but it is the gift of a truly sagacious counsellor to point out how the state of things may be improved, and this I am sure the rest of you will do, even if Momos holds his tongue.

Poseidon I, as you know, am generally under water, and dwell by myself in the deep sea, doing my best to rescue mariners and forward ships and temper the winds. Nevertheless, I have a stake in things up here, too, and it is my opinion that this Damis ought to be disposed of before he comes to the contest, either by lightning or some other means, lest his speech prevail-for you say, Zeus, that he is a plausible sort of fellow. In that way we shall show them at the same time that we take vengeance on people who say such things against us.

Zeus Are you joking, Poseidon, or have you clean forgotten that we have nothing to do with such matters, but that the Fates weave his death for each man—for one by lightning, for another by the sword, for a third by fever or consumption? Do you suppose that if this were under my control I would have let those temple-robbers go forth unstricken from Pisa the other day, when they had cut off two locks of my hair weighing six pounds each? Or would you yourself have ignored the fisherman from Oreos who carried off your trident at Geraistos? Above all, we should seem to have lost self-control in our distress and to be afraid of Damis's arguments, and therefore to be getting rid of the man rather than to endure to confront him with Timokles. Should we not in this way seem to be winning our case merely by default ?

Poseidon Now I thought I had hit on a short cut to victory.

Zeus Nonsense, Poseidon. Your argument is worthy of one of your own tunny-fish, positively dense. Snatch away the opponent, forsooth, so that he may die unconquered and leave his arguments behind without attack or exposure!

Poseidon Very well, think of something better yourselves, if you dismiss my idea with a joke about the tunnies.

Apollo If it were permitted by law to a beardless youth like me to address the meeting, I could, perhaps, make a useful contribution to the discussion.

Momos In the first place, Apollo, the discussion has to do with such great questions that the right of speech does not go by years, but is common to all. For it would be a nice thing if, when we are in the extremest danger, we should quibble about a legal qualification. But, anyhow, you are already decidedly eligible as a speaker in the eye of the law, for you emerged long ago from among the youths; you have been inscribed on the rolls of the twelve, and you were almost a member of the council in Kronos's day. So don't try your youthful airs on us, but speak up boldly and tell us your views. And do not let the fact that you are a beardless orator embarrass you, particularly when you have your son Asklepios here with a beard to his waist. Moreover, it would be peculiarly fitting for you to show your wisdom now of all occasions, unless you have sat philosophizing with the Muses on Helikon to no purpose.

Apollo It is not your business, however, Momos, to give these permissions, but Zeus's, and if he bids me I might perhaps say something worthy of the Muses and my exercises on Helikon.

Zeus Speak, my child; I give you leave.

Apollo This Timokles is a worthy man and pious, and perfectly conversant with the methods of the Stoics, so that he teaches many young men and levies no small fee therefor. For he is very convincing when he discourses with his pupils in private; but he lacks nerve for public speaking, and his utterance is untrained-half Greek and half barbarian. On this account he always raises a laugh in company, for he does not speak connectedly, but stammers and becomes confused, most of all when, in spite of this weakness, he wishes to exhibit elegance of style. His mind is surpassingly sharp and quick-so they say who are best informed in the doctrines of the Stoicsbut by his feebleness in speaking and expounding he spoils his subject-matter and confuses it, and fails to make his points clear, but rather lays down enigmatical propositions; and when it is his turn to answer expresses himself more darkly still. So he is misunderstood and laughed at. Now I think one should speak plainly, and take care above everything that his hearers understand him.