Well, Justice; yonder is our road: straight in the line for Sunium, to the foot of Hymettus, taking Parnes on our right; you see those two hills? You have quite forgotten the way, I suppose, in all this time? Now, now: weeping? why so vexed? There is nothing to fear. Things are quite different in these days: the Scirons and Pityocampteses and Busirises and
Tell me, Hermes,—you if any one must know the truth; you are generally busy either in the Gymnasium or else in the Market, making proclamation to the Assembly,—what are the Athenians like now? shall I be able to live with them?
We are brother and sister, it is only right that I should tell you the truth. Well then, Philosophy bas made a considerable change for the better in most of them; at the worst, their respect for the cloth is some check on their misdeeds, At the same time—not to conceal anything—you will find villains amongst them; and you will find some who are neither quite philosophers nor quite knaves. The fact is, Philosophy’s dyeing process is still going on, Some have absorbed the full quantity of dye; these are perfect specimens of her art, and show no admixture of other colours; with them you will find a ready reception. But others, owing to their original impurities, are not yet completely saturated; they are better than the generality of mankind, but they are not all they should be; they are piebald or spotted or dappled. Others again there are who have contented themselves with merely rubbing a fingertip in the soot on the outside of the cauldron, and smearing themselves with that; after which they consider the dyeing Process complete.
But you, of course, will only live with the best. Meanwhile, here we are, close to Attica; we must now leave Sunium on our right, and diverge towards the Acropolis,
Good: terra firma. You had better sit down somewhere here on the Areopagus, in the direction of the Pnyx, and wait whilst I make Zeus’s proclamation. I shall go up into the Acropolis; that will be the easiest way of making every one hear the summons,
Before you go, Hermes, tell me who this is coming along; a man with horns and a pipe and shaggy legs.
Why, you must know Pan, most festive of all Dionysus’s followers? He used to live on Mount Parthenius: but at the time of the Persian expedition under Datis, when the barbarians landed at Marathon, he volunteered in the Athenian service; and ever since then he has had the cave yonder at the foot of the Acropolis, a little past the Pelasgicum, and pays his taxes like any other naturalized foreigner. Seeing us so near at hand, I suppose he is coming up to make his compliments.
Hail, Justice and Hermes!
Hail, Pan; chief of Satyrs in dance and song, and most gallant of Athens’ soldiers!
But what brings you here, Hermes?
Justice will explain; I must be off to the Acropolis on my errand.
Zeus has sent me down, Pan, to preside in the law-court. —And how do you like Athens?
Well, the fact is, I am a good deal disappointed: they do not treat me with the consideration to which I am erititled, after repelling that tremendous barbarian invasion. All they do is to come up to my cave two or three times a year with a particularly high-scented goat, and sacrifice him: I am permitted to look on whilst they enjoy the feast, and am complimented with a perfunctory dance. However, there is some joking and merrymaking on the occasion, and that I find rather fun.
And, Pan,—have they become more virtuous under the hands of the philosophers?
Philosophers? Oh! people with beards just like mine; sepulchral beings, who are always getting together and jabbering?
Those are they.
I can’t understand a word they say; their philosophy is too much forme. I am mountain-bred; smart city-language is not in my line; sophists and philosophers are not known in Arcadia. I ama good hand at flute or pipe; I can mind goats, I can dance, I can fight at a pinch, and that is all. But I hear them all day long, bawling out a string of hard words about virtue, and nature, and ideas, and things incorporeal. They are good enough friends when the argument begins, but their voices mount higher and higher as they go on, and end in a scream; they get more and more excited, and all try to speak at once; they grow red in the face, their necks swell, and their veins stand out, for all the world like a flute-player on a high note. The argument is turned upside down, they forget what they are trying to prove, and finally go off abusing one another and brushing the sweat from their brows; victory rests with him who can show the boldest front and the loudest voice, and hold his ground the longest. The people, especially those who have nothing better to do, adore them, and stand spellbound under their confident bawlings. For all that I could see, they were no better than humbugs, and I was none too pleased at their copying my beard. If there were any use in their noise, if the talking did any good to the public, I should not have a word to say against them: but, to tell you the plain unvarnished truth, I have more than once looked out from my peep-hole yonder and seen them—
Hush, Pan: was not that Hermes making the proclamation?
I thought so.
Be it known to all men that we purpose on this seventh day of March to hold a court of justice, and Fortune defend the right /
All litigant parties to assemble on Areopagus, where Fustice will assign the juries and preside over the trials in person. The juries to be taken from the whole Athenian people; the pay to be sixpence
Talk about noise! how they shout! And what a hurry they are in to get here! See how one hales another up the hill! Here comes Hermes himself. Well, I leave you to your juries and your evidence; you are accustomed to it. I will return to my cave, and there play over one of those amorous ditties with which I love to upbraid Echo. As to rhetoric and law-pleadings, I hear enough of those every day in this very court of Areopagus.
We had better summon the parties, Justice.
True. Only look at the crowd, bustling and buzzing about the hilltop like a swarm of wasps!
I've got you, curse you.
Pooh! a trumped-up charge.
At last! you shall get your deserts this time.
Your villany shall be unmasked.
My jury first, Hermes.
Come along: into court with you, rascal.
You needn’t throttle me.
Do you know what I think we had better do, Hermes? Put off all the other cases for to-morrow, and only take to-day the charges brought by Arts, Professions, and Philosophies. Pick me out all of that kind.
Drink v. the Academy, re Polemon, kidnapped.
Seven jurors.
Porch v. Pleasure. Defendant is charged with seducing Dionysius, plaintiffs admirer.
Five will do for that.
Luxury v. Virtue, re Aristippus.
Five again.
Bank v. Diogenes, alleged to have run away from plaintiffs service.
Three only.
Painting v. Pyrrho. Desertion from the ranks.
That will want nine.
What about these two charges just brought against a thetorician?
No, those can stand over; we must work off the arrears first.
Well, these cases are of just the same kind. They are not old ones, it is true, but they are very like those you have taken, and might fairly be heard with them.
That looks rather like favouritism, Hermes, However, as you like; only these must be the last; we have got quite enough. What are they?
Rhetoric v. a Syrian
And who is this Syrian? There is no name given.
That is all: the Syrian rhetorician; he can have a jury without having a name.
So! here on Areopagus I am to give juries to outsiders, who ought to be tried on the other side of the Euphrates? Well, give him eleven, and they can hear both cases.
That’s right; it will save a lot of expense.