Now listen, my amazing friend, and
observe how much more candidly we barbarians
judge good men than you Greeks. In Argos and
Mykenai there is not even a noble tomb to be
seen of Orestes and Pylades, but in our country
there is shown a temple raised to them in common, as was natural since they were comrades,
and sacrifices are offered to them and all other
honors. The fact that they were foreigners, not
Scythians, does not in the least prevent their
being adjudged good men. For we do not ask
whence noble and good people come, and we
bear them no grudge for working good deeds,
even if they are not our friends. On the contrary we applaud their acts, and adopt them as
countrymen on the strength of them. But what
we chiefly wondered at and praised in these men
was this, that they seemed to us to be the noblest
pair of friends in the world, and authorized to
lay down for the rest of mankind the principle
that friends must share all fortunes, and thus win
the reverence of the best of the Scythians.
Our ancestors inscribed an account of their
sufferings with each other, or for each other, on a
bronze pillar and set it up as an offering in the
Oresteion, making a law that the earliest training
and education of their children should be to learn
by heart the inscription on this pillar. The result is that it would be easier for one of them to
forget his father's name than to be in ignorance
of the deeds of Orestes and Pylades. Moreover,
on the wall enclosing the temple there are ancient
pictures displaying everything related on the pillar. One shows Orestes sailing in company with
his friend; another shows him captured after his
ship went to pieces on the rocks and made ready
for the sacrifice, with Iphigeneia in the act of beginning the ceremony. On the opposite wall he
is seen at the moment when he had burst his
bonds and was killing Thoas and a number of
other Scythians, and, finally, they are painted
sailing away with Iphigeneia and the goddess.
The Scythians are vainly trying to stop the ship,
which is already under sail, and are hanging in
the rigging and trying to board her; but they fail
completely and some get wounded, and others,
in fear of a like fate, swim off to land.
In this
picture we can see best how much tenderness
they showed for each other in the struggle with
the Scythians. For the artist has depicted each
careless of his own opponents, but warding off
attacks on his friend, and trying to receive the
missiles intended for him, thinking it nothing to
die in saving his friend and taking on his own
body the blow aimed at the other.
Such devotion as this of theirs, such partnership in dangers, the faithfulness and good-fellowship and honesty and firmness of their mutual
love, seemed to us not to belong to human nature,
but to a finer temperament than that of men. For
the majority, as long as the wind is favorable,
take it ill if their friends do not divide their pleasures with them in equal shares, but if there comes
the least breath of adversity they leave them to
face danger alone. I will tell you another thing,
too, that there is no office of friendship that a
Scythian thinks greater, nor anything in which
he takes more pride, than helping a friend in trouble and sharing his dangers, so that we think the
hardest name a man can be called is "traitor to
friendship." This is the reason we honor Orestes
and Pylades, who were the best in what the Scythians deem good, and pre-eminent in friendship,
which we admire above all things. So we have
given them the name of “Korakoi,” which in our
language signifies "genii of friendship."
Toxaris, I see that the Scythians
have not only been great archers, and better
than other nations in warlike pursuits, but are
also the most persuasive orators in the world.
For though I was of the other opinion a while
ago, I now think you are quite right to deify
Orestes and Pylades. And I had no idea, my
dear fellow, that you were a good painter as well.
You have brought before me most vividly the
pictures in the Oresteion, and the battle of the
heroes and their vicarious wounds; but I never
should have supposed that friendship was made
so much of among the Scythians. I thought that
inasmuch as they are inhospitable and wild, they
dwelt together in constant feud and passion and
anger, and entertained no friendship towards
even their next of kin, judging from the things
we hear of them, and particularly that they eat
their fathers when they are dead.