<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
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                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2:9-13</requestUrn>
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            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2:9-13</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text><body><div type="translation" n="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" xml:lang="eng"><div type="textpart" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" subtype="section" n="9"><p><label>MICYLLUS</label>
I thought I should bore you by telling all that, but
since you want it, here goes. I never before dined
with a rich man in all my life, Pythagoras, but by
a stroke of luck I met Eucrates yesterday; after
giving him “Good-day, master,” as usual, I was for
going away again, so as not to shame him by joining
his company in my beggarly cloak. But: “Micyllus,”
said he, “I am giving a birthday party for my
daughter to-day, and have invited a great many of
my friends: but as one of them is ill, they say, and
can’t dine with us, you must take a bath and come in
his place, unless, to be sure, the man I invited says

<pb n="v.2.p.191"/>

that he will come himself, for just now his coming is
doubtful.” On hearing this I made obeisance to him
and went away, praying to all the gods to send an
attack of ague or pleurisy or gout to the invalid
whose substitute and diner-out and heir I had been
invited to become. I thought it an interminable
age until my bath, and kept looking all the while
to see how long the shadow was and when it would
at last be time to bathe.</p><p>When the time finally came, I scrubbed myself
with all speed and went off very well dressed, as I
had turned my cloak inside out so that the garment
might’ show the cleaner side.

</p></div><div type="textpart" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" subtype="section" n="10"><p>

I met at the door a
number of people, and among them, carried on the
shoulders of four bearers, the man whose place I was
to have filled, who they said was ill; and in fact he
was clearly ina bad way. At any rate he groaned
and coughed and hawked in a hollow and Giencive
way, and was all pale and flabby, a man of about
sixty. He was said to be one of those philosophers
who talk rubbish to the boys, and in fact. he had
a regular goat’s beard, excessively long. And when
Archibius, the doctor, took him to task for coming in
that condition, “Duty,” he said, “must not be
shirked, especially by a philosopher, though a
thousand illnesses stand in his way; Eucrates
would think he had been slighted by me.” “No
indeed,” ‘said I, “He will commend you if you
choose to die at home rather than to hawk and spit
your life away at his party!” But the man’s pride

<pb n="v.2.p.193"/>

was so great that he pretended not to have heard
the sally. In a moment Eucrates joined us after his
bath, and on seeing ‘Thesmopolis—for that was the
philosopher’s name—he said : “Professor, it was very
good of you to come to us, but you would not have
fared any the worse if you had stayed away, for
everything from first to last would have been sent
you.” With that he started to go in, conducting
Thesmopolis, who was supported by the servants too.

</p></div><div type="textpart" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" subtype="section" n="11"><p>

I was getting ready to go away, but he turned my way
and hesitated a good while, and then, as he saw that
I was very: downeast, said: “You come in too,
Micyllus, and dine with us. Tl make my son eat
with his mother in the women’s quarters so that you
may have room.” I went in, therefore, after coming
within an ace of licking my lips for nothing, like
the wolf<note xml:lang="eng" n="v.2.p.193.n.1">The proverb seems to be founded on the fable of the wolf and the old woman ; she threatened to throw a baby to the wolf if it did not stop crying, and the wolf waited all day for the baby, only to go home disappointed. (Aesop, 275 Halm.)</note>; I was ashamed, however, because I
seemed to have driven Eucrates’ boy out of the
dining-room.</p><p>When it was time to go to the table, first of all
they picked Thesmopolis up and put him in place,
not without some difficulty, though there were five
stout lads, I think, to do it; and they stuffed
eushions all round about him so that he could
maintain his position and hold out for a long time.
Then, as nobody else could endure to lie near him,
they took me and put me in the place below him,
making us neighbours at table. Then, Pythagoras,
we began eating a dinner of many courses and great
variety, served on gold and silver plate in profusion,


<pb n="v.2.p.195"/>

and there were goblets of gold and handsome
waiters and musicians and clowns withal. In short,
we were delightfully entertained, except for one
thing that annoyed me beyond measure: Thesmopolis
kept bothering me and talking to me about virtue,
whatever that may be, and teaching me that two
negatives make an affirmative, and that if it is day
it is not night ; and sometimes he actually said that I
had horns.<note xml:lang="eng" n="v.2.p.195.n.1">For this and other Stoic fallacies, see Lucian I. p. 437 and note 2.</note> By philosophizing with me incessantly
after that fashion when I had no mind for it, he
spoiled and diminished my pleasure, not allowing me
to hear the performers who were playing and singing. Well, there you have your dinner, cock.
</p><p><label>COCK</label>
It was not of the pleasantest, Micyllus, as your
lot was cast with that silly old man.

</p></div><div type="textpart" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" subtype="section" n="12"><p><label>MICYLLUS</label>
Now listen to my dream. I thought that Eucrates
himself had somehow become childless and lay dying,
and that, after sending for me and making a will in
which I was heir to everything, he lingered a while
and then died. On entering into possession of the
property, I dipped up the gold and the silver in
great bowlfuls, for there was an ever-flowing, copious
stream of it; and all the rest, too—the ‘clothing
and tables and cups and waiters—all was mine, ot
course. Then I drove out behind a pair of white
horses, holding my head high, the admiration and
the envy of all beholders; many ran before me and
rode beside me, and still more followed after me, and
I with his clothing on and my fingers covered with

<pb n="v.2.p.197"/>

heavy rings, fully sixteen of them, was giving orders
for a splendid feast to be prepared for the entertainment of my friends. In a moment they were there,
as is natural in a dream, and the dinner was being
served, and the drinking-bout was under way. While
I was thus engaged and was drinking healths with
each person there out of golden cups, just as the
dessert was being brought in you lifted up your
voice unseasonably, and disturbed our party, upset
the tables and caused that wealth of mine to be
scattered to the winds. Now do you think I was
unreasonable in getting angry at you, when I should
have been glad to see the dream last for three
nights ?
</p></div><div type="textpart" xml:base="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0062.tlg019.perseus-eng2" subtype="section" n="13"><p><label>COCK</label>
Are you such a lover of gold and of riches,
Micyllus, and is owning quantities of gold the only
thing in the world that you admire and consider
blissful ?
</p><p><label>MICYLLUS</label>
I am not the only ‘one to do so, Pythagoras: you
yourself, when you were Euphorbus, sallied forth to
fight the Achaeans with your curls tricked out in
gold and silver, and even in war, where it would
have been better to wear iron, you thought fit to
face danger with your hair caught up with gold.<note xml:lang="eng" n="v.2.p.197.n.1">Tliad 17, 52.</note>
No doubt Homer said that your hair was “like the
Graces” because “it was snooded with gold and with
silver” ; for it looked far finer and lovelier, of course,
when it was interwoven with gold and shone in
unison with it. And yet as far as you are concerned,
Goldenhair, it is of little moment that you, the son
of a Panthous, honoured gold, but what of the father

<pb n="v.2.p.199"/>

of gods and of men, the son of Cronus and Rhea?
When he was in love with that slip ofa girl in Argos,
not having anything more attractive to change
himself into nor any other means of corrupting the
sentries of Acrisius, he turned into gold, as you, of
course, have heard, and came down through the roof
to visit his beloved. Then what is the use of my
telling you the rest of it—how many uses gold has,
and how, when people have it, it renders them
handsome and wise and strong, lending them honour
and esteem, and not infrequently it makes inconspicuous and contemptible people admired and renowned in a short time?

</p></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
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            </GetPassage>