"Where shall I make a beginning,” my friend, “and where make an end of relating”

Cf. Odyssey9, 14.

These latter were the more trustworthy because they had gone through all the degrees of the ritual, so to speak, and had been initiated into everything from beginning to end. So it was not without interest and attention that I listened to them while they spun yarns about their shipwreck and unlooked-for deliverance, just like the men with shaven heads who gather in crowds at the temples and tell of third waves, tempests, headlands, strandings, masts carried away, rudders broken, and to cap it all, how the T win Brethren appeared (they are peculiar to this sort of rhodomontade), or how some other deus ex machina sat on the masthead or stood at the helm and steered the ship to a soft beach where she might break up gradually and slowly and they themselves get ashore safely by the grace and favour of the god. Those men, to be sure, invent the greater part of their tragical histories to meet their temporary need, in order that they may receive alms from a greater number of people by seeming not only unfortunate but dear to the gods;

but when the others told of household tempests and third waves—yes, by Zeus, fifth and tenth waves, if one may say so—and how they first sailed in, with the sea apparently calm, and how many troubles they endured through the whole voyage by reason of thirst or sea-sickness or inundations of brine, and finally how they stove their unlucky lugger on a submerged ledge or a sheer pinnacle and swam ashore, poor fellows, in a wretched plight, naked and in want of every necessity—in these adventures and their account of them it seemed to me that they concealed the greater part out of shame, and voluntarily forgot it.

For my part I shall not hesitate to tell you everything, my dear Timocles, not only their stories but whatever else I find by logical inference to be characteristic of such household positions ; for I think I detected long ago that you are entertaining designs

upon that life. I detected it first one time when our conversation turned to that theme, and then someone of the company praised this kind of wage-earning, saying that men were thrice happy when, besides having the noblest of the Romans for their friends, eating expensive dinners without paying any scot, living in a handsome establishment, and travelling in all comfort and luxury, behind a span of white horses, perhaps, with their noses in the air,

That this is the meaning of éurriaCovres, and not “lolling at ease,” is clear from Book-Collector 21 and Downward Journey 16.

In order, then, that as far as I am concerned I may be free from blame in future and you may not be able to say that when I saw you swallowing up that great hook along with the bait I did not hold you back or pull it away before it got into your throat or give you forewarning, but waited until I saw you dragged along by it and forcibly haled away when at last it was pulled and had set itself firmly, and then, when it was no use, stood and wept—in order that you may not say this, which would be a very sound plea if you should say it, and impossible for me to controvert on the ground that I had done no wrong by not warning you in advance—listen to everything at the outset; examine the net itself and the impermeability of the pounds beforehand, from the outside at your leisure, not from the inside after you are in the fyke ; take in your hands the bend of the hook and the barb of its point, and the tines of the harpoon ; puff out your cheek and try them on it, and if they do not prove very keen and unescapable and painful in one’s wounds, pulling hard and gripping irresistibly, then write me down a coward who goes hungry for that reason, and, exhorting yourself to be bold, attack your prey if you will, swallowing the bait whole like a gull!

The whole story will be told for your sake, no doubt, in the main, but it will concern not only students of philosophy like yourself, and those who have chosen one of: the more strenuous vocations in life, but also grammarians, rhetoricians, musicians, and ina word all who think fit to enter families and serve for hire as educators. Since the experiences of all are for the most part common and similar, it is clear that the treatment accorded the philosophers, so far from being preferential, is more contumelious for being the same, if it is thought that what is good enough for the others is good enough for them, and they are not handled with any greater respect by their paymasters. Moreover, the blame for whatever the discussion itself brings out in its advance ought to be given primarily to the men themselves who do such things and secondarily to those who put up with them. I am not to blame, unless there is something censurable in truth and frankness.

As to those who make up the rest of the mob, such as athletic instructors and parasites, ignorant, pettyminded, naturally abject fellows, it is not worth while to try to turn them away from such household positions, for they would not heed, nor indeed is it proper to blame them for not leaving their paymasters, however much they may be insulted by them, for they are adapted to this kind of occupation and not too good for it. Besides, they would not have anything else to which they might turn in order to keep themselves busy, but if they should be deprived ot this, they would be without a trade at once and out of work and superfluous. So they themselves cannot suffer any wrong nor their employers be thought insulting for using a pot, as the saying goes, for a pot’s use. They enter households in the first instance to encounter this insolence, and it is their trade to bear and tolerate it. But in the case of the educated men whom I mentioned before, it is worth while to be indignant and to put forth every effort to bring them back and redeem them to freedom.

It seems to me that I should do well to examine in advance the motives for which some men go into this sort of life and show that they are not at all urgent or necessary. In that way their defence and the primary object of their voluntary slavery would be done away with in advance. Most of them plead their poverty and their lack of necessities, and think that in this way they have set up an adequate screen for their desertion to this life. They consider that it quite suffices them if they say that they act pardonably in seeking to escape poverty, the bitterest thing in life. Then Theognis comes to hand, and time and again we hear : “All men held in subjection to Poverty,”

ἄνδρ᾽ ἀγαθὸν πενίη πάντων δάμνησι μάλιστα,καὶ γήρως πολιοῦ, Κύρνε, καὶ ἠπιάλου,ἣν δὴ χρὴ φεύγοντα καὶ ἐς βαθυκήτεα πόντονῥιπτεῖν καὶ πετρέων, Κύρνε, κατ᾽ ἠλιβάτων.καὶ γὰρ ἀνὴρ πενίῃ δεδμημένος οὔτε τι εἰπεῖνοὐθ᾽ ἕρξαι δύναται, γλῶσσα δέ οἱ δέδεται.Theognis 173 ff.

Others say that poverty in itself would not frighten or cow them.if they could get their daily bread by working like the rest, but as things are, since their bodies have been debilitated by old age or by illnesses, they have resorted to this form of wage-earning, which is the easiest. Come, then, let us see if what they say is true and they secure their gifts easily, without working much, or any more than the rest. It would indeed be a godsend to get money readily without toiling and moiling. As a matter of fact, the thing cannot even be put into adequate words. They toil and moil so much in their household positions that they need better health there and need health more than anything else for that occupation, since there are a thousand things every day that fret the body and wear it down to the lowest depths of despair. We shall speak of these at the proper time, when we recount their other hardships. For — the present it is enough to indicate that those who allege this reason for selling themselves are not telling the truth either.

One motive remains, which is exceedingly genuine but not mentioned at all by them, namely, that they plunge into these households for the sake of pleasure and on account of their many extravagant expectations, dazzled by the wealth of gold and silver, enraptured over the dinners and the other forms of indulgence, and assured that they will immediately drink gold in copious draughts, and that nobody will stop their mouths. That is what seduces them and makes them slaves instead of freemen—not lack of necessaries, as they alleged, but desire for unnecessaries and envy of that abundance and luxury. Therefore, like unsuccessful and unhappy lovers, they fall into the hands of shrewd, experienced minions who treat them superciliously, taking good care that they shall always love them, but not permitting them ta enjoy the objects of their affection even to the extent of a meagre kiss; for they know that success will involve the dissolution of love. So they hold that under lock and key and guard it jealously, but otherwise they keep their lover always hopeful, since they fear that despair may wean him from his overmastering desire, and that he may grow out of love for them. They smile upon him, then, and make promises, and are always on the point of being good to him, and generous, and lavish with their attentions. Then before they know it, they both are old, the one has passed the season for loving, the other for yielding to love. Consequently they have done nothing in all their life except to hope.

Now to put up with everything on account of desire for pleasure is perhaps not altogether blameworthy, even excusable, if a man likes pleasure and makes it his aim above all else to partake of it. Yet perhaps it is shameful and ignoble for him to sell himself on that account ; for the pleasure of freedom is far sweeter. Nevertheless, let us grant that he would be excusable in a measure, if he obtained it. But to put up with many unpleasantnesses just on account of the hope of pleasure is ridiculous in my opinion and senseless, particularly when men see that the discomforts are definite and patent in advance and inevitable, while the pleasure that is hoped for, whatever it is, has never yet come in all the past, and what is more, is not even likely to come in the future, if one should figure the matter out on the basis of hard fact. The companions: of Odysseus neglected all else because they were eating the lotus and found it sweet, and they contemned what was honourable because they contrasted it with their immediate pleasure ; therefore it was not entirely unreasonable of them to forget honour while their souls dwelt upon that sweetness. But for a man in hunger to stand beside another who eats his fill of lotus without giving him any, and to be chained to the spot, forgetful of all that is honourable and right, by the mere hope that he himself may get a taste some day—Heracles! how ridiculous and in very truth deserving of a proper Homeric thrashing!

Like that bestowed upon Thersites by Odysseus (Iliad2, 199, 265).

Well, the motives which attract them to these household positions, which cause them to put themselves eagerly into the power of the rich to treat as they will, are these or as near as may be to these, unless one should think it worth while to mention also those men who are impelled by the mere name of associating with men of noble family and high social position. There are people who think that even this confers distinction and exalts them above the masses, just as in my own case, were it even the Great King, merely to associate with him and to be seen associating with him without getting any real benefit out of the association would not be acceptable to me.

So much for their object. Let us now consider between ourselves what they put up with before they are received and gain their end, and what they endure when they are fairly in the thing, and to cap the climax, what the outcome of the drama proves to be. For surely it cannot be said that even if all this is unworthy, at least it is easy to get and will not call for much trouble; that you need only wish, and then the whole thing is accomplished for you without any effort. No, it calls for much running hither and thither, and for continual camping on doorsteps ; you must get up early and wait about ; meanwhile you are elbowed, you are kept locked out, you are sometimes thought impudent and annoying, you are subordinate to a door-man with a vile Syrian accent and to a Libyan master of ceremonies, and you tip them for remembering your name. Moreover you must provide yourself with clothing beyond the means at your command, to correspond with the dignity of the man whom you are cultivating, and choose whatever colours he likes in order that you may not be out of harmony or in discord when he looks at you, and you must follow him zealously, or rather, lead the way, shoved on by the servants and filling out a guard of honour, as it were.

But your man does not even look at you for many days on end. And if ever you have a rare stroke of luck—

if he sees you, calls you up and asks you a casual question, then, ah! then you sweat profusely, your head swims confusedly, you tremble inopportunely, and the company laughs at you for your embarrassment. Many a time, when you should reply to the question: “Who was the king of the Achaeans,” you say, “They had a thousand ships!” Good men call this modesty, forward men cowardice, and unkind men lack of breeding. So, having found the beginning of friendly relations very unstable footing, you go away doomed by your own verdict to great despair.

When “many a sleepless night you have pillowed” and have lived through “many a blood-stained day,”

Iliad9, 325.

No doubt there are many who side against you and favour others in your stead, and each of them stealthily shoots at you, so to speak, from ambush. Then too imagine a man with a long beard and grey hair undergoing examination to see if he knows anything worth while, and some thinking that he does, others that he does not!

Then a period intervenes, and your whole past life is pried into. If a fellow-countryman. out of jealousy or a neighbour offended for some insignificant reason says, when questioned, that you are a follower of women or boys, there they have it ! the witness speaks by the book of Zeus; but if all with one accord commend you, they are considered questionable, dubious, and suborned. You must have great good fortune, then, and no opposition at all; for that is the only way in which you can win.

Well, suppose you have been fortunate in everything beyond your fondest hopes. The master himself has commended your discussions, and those of his friends whom he holds in the highest esteem and trusts most implicitly in such matters have not advised him against you. Besides, his wife is willing, and neither his attorney nor his steward objects, nor has anyone criticized your past; everything is propitious and from every point of view the omens are good.

You have won, then, lucky man, and have gained the Olympic crown—nay, you have taken Babylon or stormed the citadel of Sardis ; you shall have the horn of Plenty and fill your pails with pigeon’s milk. It is indeed fitting that in return for all your labours you should have the very greatest of blessings, in order that your crown may not be mere leaves ; that your salary should be set at a considerable figure and paid you when you need it, without ado; that in other ways you should be honoured beyond ordinary folk; that you should get respite from your former exertions and muddiness and running about and loss of sleep, and that in accordance with your prayer you should “sleep with your legs stretched out,”

A proverbial expression for ‘“taking it easy.”

I shall begin, if you like, with the first dinner which will be given you, no doubt, as a formal prelude to your future intimacy.

Very soon, then, someone calls, bringing an invitation to the dinner, a servant not unfamiliar with the world, whom you must first propitiate by slipping at least five drachmas into his hand casually so as not to appear awkward. He puts on airs and murmurs: “Tut, tut ! I take money from you?” ane : “Heracles! I hope it may never come to that !"; but in the end he is prevailed upon and goes away with a broad grin at your expense. Providing yourself with clean clothing and dressing yourself as neatly as you can, you pay your visit to the bath and go, afraid of getting there before the rest, for that would be gauche, just as to come last would be ill-mannered. So you wait until the middle moment of the right time, and then go in. He receives you with much distinction, and someone takes you in charge and gives you a place at table a little above the rich man, with perhaps two of his old friends.

As though you had entered the mansion of Zeus, you admire everything and are amazed at all that is done, for everything is strange and unfamiliar to you. The servants stare at you, and everybody in the company keeps an eye on you to see what you are going to do. Even the rich man himself is not without concern on this score ; he has previously directed some of the servants to watch whether you often gaze from afar at his sons or his wife. The attendants of your fellow-guests, seeing that you are impressed, crack jokes about your unfamiliarity with what is doing and conjecture that you have never before dined anywhere because your napkin is new.

Guests brought their own napkins.

In general, you are in a chaotic state and your soul is full of agitation, for you are lost in amazement at everything that goes on. Now you call Dives lucky for his gold and his ivory and all his luxury, and now you pity yourself for imagining that you are alive when you are really nothing at all. Sometimes, too, it comes into your head that you are going to lead an enviable life, since you will revel in all that and share in it equally; you expect to enjoy perpetual Bacchic revels. Perhaps, too, pretty boys waiting upon you and faintly smiling at you paint the picture of your future life in more attractive colours, so that you are forever quoting that line of Homer: Small blame to the fighters of Troy and the brightgreaved men of Achaea

Said of Helen by the Trojan elders. They continue, ; That for a woman like this they long have endured tribulations.Iliad 3, 157

Moreover, that toast has made many of his old friends jealous of you, some of whom you had previously offended when the places at table were assigned because you, who had only just come, were given precedence over men who for years had drained the dregs of servitude. So at once they begin to talk about you after this fashion: “That was still left for us in addition to our other afflictions, to play second fiddle to men who have just come into the household, and it is only these Greeks who have the freedom of the city of Rome. And yet, why is it that they are preferred to us? Isn't it true that they think they confer a tremendous benefit by turning wretched phrases ?”’ Another says: “Why, didn’t you see how much he drank, and how he gathered in what was set before him and devoured it? The fellow has no manners, and is starved to the limit; even in his dreams he never had his fill of white bread, not to speak of guinea fowl] or pheasants, of which he has hardly left us the bones:”’ A third observes: “You silly asses, in less than five days you will see him here in the midst of us making these same complaints. Just now, like a new pair of shoes, he is receiving acertain amount of consideration and attention, but when he has been used again and again and is smeared with mud, he will be thrown under the bed in a wretched state, covered with vermin like the rest of us.”

Well, as I say, they go on about you indefinitely in that vein, and perhaps even then some of them are getting ready for a campaign of slander.

Anyhow, that whole dinner-party is yours, and most of the conversation is about you. For your own part, as you have drunk more than enough subtle, insidious wine because you ‘were not used to it, you have been uneasy for a long time and are in a bad way: yet it is not good form to leave early and not safe to stay where you are. So, as the drinking is prolonged and subject after subject is discussed and entertainment after entertainment is brought in (for he wants to show you all his wealth !), you undergo great punishment ; you cannot see what takes place, and if this or that lad who is held in very great esteem sings or plays, you cannot hear; you applaud perforce while you pray that an earthquake may tumble the whole establishment into a heap or that a great fire may be reported, so that the party may break up at last.

So goes, then, my friend, that first and sweetest of dinners, which to me at least is no sweeter than thyme and white salt eaten in freedom, when I like and as much as I like.

To spare you the tale of the flatulency that follows and the sickness during the night, early in the morning you two will be obliged to come to terms with one another about your stipend, how much you are to receive and at what time of year. So with two or three of his friends present, he summons you, bids you to be seated, and opens the conversation: ‘ You have already seen what our establishment is like, and that there is not a bit of pomp and circumstance in it, but everything is unostentatious, prosaic, and ordiriary. You must feel that we shall have everything in common ; for it would be ridiculous if I trusted you with what is most important, my own soul or that of my children”—suppose he has children who need instruction—‘“and did not consider you equally free to command everything else. But there should be some stipulation. I recognise, to be sure, that you are temperate and independent by nature, and am aware that you did not join our household through hope of pay but on account of the other things, the friendliness that we shall show you and the esteem which you will have from everyone. Nevertheless, let there be some stipulation. Say yourself what you wish, bearing in mind, my dear fellow, what we shall probably give you on the annual feast-days. We shall not forget such matters, either, even though we do not now reckon them in, and there are many such occasions in the year, as you know. So, if you take all that into consideration, you will of course charge us with a more moderate stipend. Besides, it would well become you men of education to be superior to money.”

By saying this and putting you all in a flutter with expectations, he has made you submissive to him. You formerly dreamed of thousands and millions and whole farms and tenements, and you are somewhat conscious of his meanness; nevertheless, you welcome his promise with dog-like joy, and think his “We shall have everything in common”’ reliable and truthful, not knowing that this sort of thing “Wetteth the lips, to be sure, but the palate it leaveth unwetted.Iliad22, 495. In the end, out of modesty, you leave it to him. He himself refuses to say, but tells one of the friends who are present to intervene in the business and name a sum that would be neither burdensome to ~ him, with many other expenses more urgent than this, nor paltry to the recipient. The friend, a sprightly old man, habituated to flattery from his boyhood, says: ‘* You cannot say, sir, that you are not the luckiest man in the whole city. In the first place you have been accorded a privilege which many who covet it greatly would hardly be able to obtain from Fortune ; I mean in being honoured with his company, sharing his hospitality, and being received into the first household in the Roman Empire. This is better.than the talents of Croesus and the wealth of Midas, if you know how to be temperate. Perceiving that many distinguished men, even if they had to pay for it, would like, simply for the name of the thing, to associate with this gentleman and be seen about* him in the guise of companions and friends, I cannot sufficiently congratulate you on your good luck, since you are actually to receive pay for such felicity. I think, then, that unless you are very prodigal, ~ about so and so much is enough”—and he names a very scanty sum, in striking contrast to those expectations of yours.