PRIESTCronus, you seem to be king just now, and it is you to whom we have offered sacrifices and we have received favourable omens. Now, what precise return for these rites would you give me if I asked?
CRONUSIn this case the proper procedure is for you to have made your own decision what to pray for, unless you expect your king to be a diviner as well and know what request would please you. As far as lies within my power I shall not deny your prayer.
PRIESTMy decision was made a long time ago. I shall ask for the usual, obvious things—wealth, a lot of gold, to be lord of an estate, to own many slaves, clothing, bright-coloured and soft, silver, ivory, and everything else that is worth something. Grant me some part of this, my dearest Cronus, so that I too may profit from your reign, and may not spend my whole life as the only one who gets no benefit.
CRONUSThere! That request is beyond me. It is not mine to distribute things of that sort. So don’t be discontented if you don’t get them, but ask Zeus
when the sovereignty comes round to him, as it will do presently. I take over the kingship on set terms. My entire reign is for seven days; the moment this period is over I am a private citizen and, I suppose, one of the common herd. But during the seven days I have agreed to conduct no business whatever, not even in politics. What I may do is drink and be drunk, shout, play games and dice, appoint masters of the revels, feast the servants, sing stark naked, clap and shake, and sometimes even get pushed head-first into cold water with my face smeared with soot. Such great gifts as wealth and gold Zeus distributes to whomsoever he pleases.
PRIESTBut even Zeus, Cronus, is not ready or open-handed in his gifts. At any rate I’ve shouted for them till I’m worn out, yet he doesn’t listen at all. No, he shakes his aegis and brandishes his thunderbolt with a fierce stare and terrifies those who bother him. If ever he does nod assent to anyone and make him rich, there is a great lack of discrimination about it. He sometimes passes over the good and wise and lavishes riches on wicked and stupid people, most of them criminals and effeminates. But the things you can do—these are what I want to know.
CRONUSThey are not entirely of no importance or altogether contemptible when judged in relation to the prerogatives of omnipotence—unless you think it
trivial to win at dice, and when others are rolling singles always to be turning up sixes yourself. At any rate many men have got themselves more than enough to eat in this sort of way, men to whom the die will give a gracious and generous nod. Then again, there are those who have swum out to safety without a stitch of clothing when their ship has foundered on the die’s tiny reef. Again, to drink the most delightful drinks, to be acclaimed a better singer in your cups than the next man, to see the others who serve at table with you thrown into the water as the penalty for their clumsy service while you are proclaimed victor and win the sausage as prize—do you see what a blessing that is? Again, to become sole king of all with a win at the knuckle-bones, so that you not only escape silly orders but can give them yourself, telling one man to shout out something disgraceful about himself, another to dance naked, pick up the flute-girl, and carry her three times round the house—surely this is proof of my generosity? And if you criticise this kingdom as not real or lasting you will be unreasonable when you know that I myself who dispense these blessings have the sovereignty for only a short time. So do not hesitate to ask for any of these things which I can give you: gaming, lordship of the feast, singing and all that I have enumerated, in the assurance that I shall not in any circumstances frighten you with the aegis and the thunderbolt.
PRIESTWhy, best of Titans, I need nothing like that. But answer me this—I have longed to know, and
if you tell me it will be an adequate return for the sacrifice and I release you from future debts.
CRONUSJust ask what you want. I shall answer if I happen to know.
PRIESTThis first: whether what we often hear about you is true, that you ate up Rhea’s children, but she put Zeus out of the way, substituting a stone for you to swallow down instead of the child; then, when he grew up, he beat you in war and drove you from the sovereignty; he took you to Tartarus, put fetters on you and all the allies who sided with you, and threw you in.
CRONUSIf it were not festival-time, my man, and if you weren’t allowed to get drunk and cheek your masters with impunity, you would have found out that I’m allowed to be angry at any rate—asking such questions and showing no respect for a grey-haired old god like me!
PRIESTNow I don’t say this on my own, Cronus. Hesiod and Homer say so; I’m not sure that I should tell you that the rest of mankind too believes pretty much the same about you.
CRONUSDo you imagine that that shepherd, that impostor, has any sound knowledge of me? Look at it this
way: would any man (I will not say god) put up with eating his own children of his own free will, unless he were some Thyestes who unluckily had an impious brother? Suppose he were as mad as this; then how would he fail to recognise he was eating a stone and not a child, unless he had no feeling in his teeth? No, there was no fighting, nor does Zeus rule his empire by force; I handed it to him and abdicated quite voluntarily. That I am neither in chains nor in Tartarus I suppose you see for yourself, unless you are as blind as Homer.
PRIESTWhy ever did you let the sovereignty go, Cronus?
CRONUSI will tell you. In brief it was because I was old and gouty owing to my years. That is why people suppose that I had been put into chains. I hadn’t the strength to deal with all the injustice of the present generation, but I had to run up and down with my thunderbolt at the ready, setting fire to perjurers, temple-robbers, or men of violence; the whole business was very strenuous and needed a young man’s energy. So I abdicated, thank goodness, in favour of Zeus. Besides, I thought it a good idea to divide the kingdom between my sons, and for myself to spend most of my time in quiet enjoyment of the good things of life, not engaged with people making vows or annoyed by those who make contradictory requests, neither thundering nor lightening nor
having to throw hail occasionally. No, I live this pleasant life of an old man, drinking stiff nectar and chatting with Iapetus and my other cronies, and Zeus is king with all the worry. Nevertheless I thought it best to filch these few days on the terms I mentioned, and I take over the sovereignty again to remind mankind what life was like under me, when everything grew for them without sowing and without ploughing—not ears of wheat, but loaves ready-baked and meats ready-cooked. Wine flowed like a river, and there were springs of honey and milk; for everyone was good, pure gold. This is the reason for my short-lived dominion, and why everywhere there is clapping and singing and playing games, and everyone, slave and free man, is held as good as his neighbour. There was no slavery, you see, in my time.
PRIESTWell, Cronus, I had assumed from the story that this humanity you showed to slaves and those in chains was to do honour to men whose sufferings had been like your own, since you yourself had been a slave and you were remembering your chains.
CRONUSOh, stop that silly talk.
PRIESTYou are right. I will stop. But answer me another question. Was it customary for men to gamble in your time?
CRONUSCertainly. But not for talents and thousands of drachmas as you do. No, nuts were the highest stake. Then there was no heart-break if a man was beaten, or floods of tears because he alone had lost the price of a meal.
PRIESTHow wise they were! What could their stakes be when they were pure gold themselves? But while you were talking I thought of something: suppose one of your men of beaten gold had been brought into our world for everyone to see, what a bad time the poor wretch would have had at people’s hands! They would have certainly rushed at him and torn him limb from limb, as the Maenads tore Pentheus, the Thracians Orpheus, and the dogs Actaeon, vying with each other to carry off the biggest piece. Not even at festival-time are they free from greed for gain. Indeed most of them have made your festival a source of revenue. Some of them go off and rob their friends at the banquet; others revile you when they ought not and smash the dice, which are certainly not responsible for what they do of their own free will.
But tell me this as well: why, when you are such a soft-living god and old at that, have you chosen the most unpleasant time of the year, when the snow covers everything, the North wind is strong, everything is frozen, trees are withered and bare and leafless, fields are ugly and without bloom, and men are bent like old, old men, most of them hard by the
stove? The season is not good for the old or for lovers of easy living.
CRONUSYou are asking me a lot of questions, my man, when I ought to be already drinking. In fact you’ve robbed me of quite a bit of my festival with all these completely unnecessary speculations. So let them be for now and let us enjoy ourselves, clap hands, and live on freedom’s terms at this festival-time. Then let’s dice in the old way for nuts, vote for our kings and obey them. So I will prove the truth of the proverb which says that for old men there comes a second childhood.
PRIESTWell, Cronus, never may anyone who doesn’t approve of what you say be able to get a drink when he is thirsty! Then let us drink! Your first answer was quite enough. I think I shall write down this conversation of ours in a book, both what I asked and what you so kindly answered, and I’ll give it to my friends to read, at any rate those who deserve to hear what you have said.
Cronosolon
Thus says Cronosolon,
Named after Solon, lawgiver of Athens.
priest and prophet of Cronus, and giver of laws for his festival.
What the poor must do I have written in another book and sent to them, and I am well assured that they will abide by the laws, or else they will at once be liable to the severe penalties appointed for disobedience.
But you who are rich, see that you do not transgress the law or hear these commands amiss. Whoever acts otherwise, let him know that it is not I, the lawgiver, whom he slights, but he does injury to Cronus himself, who has appointed me lawgiver of his festival, appearing before me in no dream, but conversing with me in bodily shape the other day when I was fully awake. He was not in fetters, nor was he shabby, as the painters show him, following the ravings of the poets. No, he had his sickle full-whetted; he was all radiance and strength, and his garb was that of a king. Such was his appearance when he was seen by me. What he said equally showed his divinity and may be told you by way of preface.
Seeing me morose and walking deep in thought, he knew at once, as became a god, the reason for my grief, namely that I was cross because of my poverty, having but a single cloak, not enough for the season; for it was cold with a strong north-wind, ice and snow, and I had little defence against these things; and then since the festival was almost at hand, I saw other people getting ready their sacrifices and feasts, and I had little that makes for festival-time. Well, he came up from behind, took me by the ear, and shook me (his usual way of accosting me), and said: “Why are you looking so downhearted, Cronosolon?” “Haven’t I every reason, master, when I see disgusting and filthy rogues unbelievably rich and alone leading a comfortable life, while I and many another educated man know poverty and despair as companions? But even you, master, won’t put a stop to these things and make a more equitable
arrangement.” “Generally speaking,” he said, “it’s not easy to change the lot that Clotho and the other Fates assign you, but as far as the needs of the festival go I shall set your poverty right. This is how I shall do it: go, Cronosolon, and write me laws on conduct during the festival, so that the rich may not keep private festival but share their good things with you.” “I do not know the laws,” I said. “I will instruct you,” said he, and he set to.
Then, when I had learnt them all, he said, “And tell them that if they are disobedient it’s not for nothing that I carry this sharp sickle here—I should be a fool to have castrated my own father, Uranus, and yet not make eunuchs of the rich who break my laws, making them servants of the Great Mother
Cybele.
and collectors for her, complete with flutes and cymbals.” That was his threat. So you had better not transgress his ordinances.
1. First Laws
No one is to do any business, public or private, during the festival, except what pertains to sport, luxurious living and entertainment: cooks and confectioners alone shall work.
Let every man be treated equal, slave and freeman, poor and rich.
No one may be ill-tempered or cross or threaten anybody.
No one may audit accounts during the festival of Cronus.
No one may inspect or list his silver or clothing during the festival, nor take part in athletics, nor practise public-speaking, nor deliver lectures, except wits and jolly fellows purveying jokes and entertainment.
2. Second Laws
Long before the festival the rich shall write on a tablet the name of each of their friends, and shall hold in readiness the cash value of a tenth of their yearly income, any surplus clothing they possess, furniture too crude for them, and a good proportion of their silver. They shall keep this ready at hand.
On the day before the festival a purificatory sacrifice shall be carried round, and they shall purge their houses of meanness, avarice, greed, and all such vices that dwell with most of them.
When they have purified the house, they shall sacrifice to Zeus the Giver of Wealth, Hermes the Bestower, and Apollo of the Great Gifts.
Then in the late afternoon, that list of friends shall be read to them.
They shall divide the gifts according to each man’s worth, and before sunset send them to their friends. The bearers shall not exceed three or four, the most trustworthy of their servants, well advanced in years. The nature and quantity of what is sent shall be written on a slip, that neither party may suspect the bearers. Each servant shall drink one cup and then run off and make no more demands. To men of letters double quantities shall
be sent; they deserve a double share. The messages with the gifts shall be as modest and brief as possible. No one shall send an odious message with them, or cry up what is sent.
Rich man shall not send to rich man or at Cronus’s festival entertain anyone of equal standing. He shall keep nothing of what is already prepared for sending, nor change his mind about a gift.
Anyone who the year before missed his share through absence shall be given it now as an extra gift.
The rich shall pay debts for their impecunious friends (including their rent if they owe this too and cannot pay). In general they shall make it their business to know long beforehand what is their greatest need.
Those who receive shall not complain, but think the gift, whatever it is, generous. A jar of wine, a hare, or a plump bird shall not be reckoned a gift for Cronus’s festival, nor shall Cronian gifts be laughed at.
In return the poor scholar shall send the rich man any pleasant, convivial, old book he may have, or a work of his own, the best he can. The rich man shall receive this gift with a glad countenance and then read it at once. If he rejects it or throws it away, he shall know that he is liable to what the sickle threatens, even if what he sends is adequate. The other poor recipients shall send garlands of flowers or grains of frankincense.
If a poor man sends clothing or silver or gold beyond his means to a rich man, his gift shall be declared
public property and sold, the money going into the treasury of Cronus; and the poor man on the next day shall receive from the rich man strokes on his hands with a cane to the number of not less than two hundred and fifty.
3. Laws for Banquets
The time for bathing shall be when the shadow of the sundial is six feet long; before the bath there shall be nuts and gaming.
Each man shall take the couch where he happens to be. Rank, family, or wealth shall have little influence on privilege.
All shall drink the same wine, and neither stomach trouble nor headache shall give the rich man an excuse for being the only one to drink the better quality.
All shall have their meat on equal terms. The waiters shall not show favour to anyone, but shall neither be too slow nor be dismissed until the guests choose what they are to take home. Neither are large portions to be placed before one and tiny ones before another, nor a ham for one and a pig’s jaw for another—all must be treated equally.
The man who pours the wine shall keep a sharp eye on each guest from a vantage-point; he shall pay less attention to his master, and his ears shall be sharper than usual. The cups shall be of all kinds. It shall be permissible to pass a loving-cup, if desired. Everyone shall drink to everyone else, if desired, when the rich man has set the example. No one shall be made to drink if he cannot.
It shall not be permissible for anyone who wishes it
to introduce into the banquet a dancer or lyre-player who is still learning.
Jesting shall be limited in all cases to what is inoffensive.
All gambling shall be for nuts. If anyone gambles for money he shall go without food for the next day.
Each guest shall stay and go as he likes.
When a rich man gives a banquet to his servants, his friends shall aid him in waiting on them.
Every rich man shall inscribe these laws on a slab of bronze and keep it in the centre of his hall, and read them. And it must be realised that as long as this slab shall last neither famine nor plague nor fire nor any other harm shall come to their house. May it never be taken down! For if it is, Heaven avert what is in store for them!
Correspondence with Cronus
1. Myself to Cronus—Greetings!
I wrote to you earlier telling you what my position was and how my poverty made it likely that I alone should have no share in the festival which you proclaimed, adding this, I remember, that it was most unreasonable for some of us to have too much wealth and live in luxury and not share what they have with those who are poorer than they while others are dying of hunger, and that too when the festival of Cronus is near. Since you sent no reply then, I have thought it necessary to remind you of it again. You ought, my dear Cronus, to have abolished this inequality, made the good things accessible to everyone, and
then bid the festival begin. As we now are it is a case of “ant or camel”, as the saying has it.
i.e. there are only the very rich or the very poor.
Better still, imagine a tragic actor with one foot on something high, like a tragic buskin, and let the other be unshod. Now if anyone were to walk like this you can see he would have to be up in the air at one moment and down again at the next according to whichever foot he is putting forward. Inequality in human life is the same: some put on the buskins which our producer Luck supplies and strut the human stage, but the rank and file of us go unshod on the earth below, though we could play a part and stride the boards no worse than they, you may be sure, if anyone had decked us out like them.
Indeed I hear the poets saying that things were not like that in old times when you were still lord. No, the earth produced its good things for the folk without sowing and without ploughing, an ample meal ready to each man’s hand; the rivers flowed some with wine, some with milk, and others again with honey. And, above all, they say the men themselves were gold and poverty was nowhere near. As for us, we could not even be thought of as lead, but something meaner, if such there be; and for most of us food is won with toil; and poverty, want, and helplessness, and “alas!”, and “how can I get it?”, and “oh, what bad luck!” and such exclamations are plentiful, at least among us poor.
We should be less distressed about it, you may be sure, if we did not see the rich living in such bliss, who, though they have such gold, such silver in their safes, though they have all that clothing and own slaves and carriage-horses and tenements and farms,
each and all in large numbers, not only have never shared them with us, but never deign even to notice ordinary people.