Then how will the cup-bearer serve a full goblet as heavy as that? And how will you take it from him without an effort? It won’t be a cup he offers, but a weight as heavy as Sisyphus’s rock! Sisyphus was condemned to roll a rock up to the top of a hill, from where it eternally rolls back again.

Man, don’t pick my wish to pieces. I’ll make my tables of solid gold too and my couches of gold and, if you don’t keep quiet, my servants as well.

You’ll arrange your affairs more convincingly, Lycinus, when you make your requests in a moment. To go on, my dress will be of purple and my life the height of luxury, my sleep the sweetest possible. Friends will come and ask for favours and they’ll all bow down and grovel. Some of them will be walking up and down by my doors from dawn, among them Cleaenetus and Democritus, those great men, and, when they come and demand to be let in first, seven porters will stand there, tall barbarians, who will slam the door right in their faces, as they now do themselves. When I think fit I shall look out, like the rising sun. Some of them I shall not even look at, but if there is a poor man there, as I was before my treasure, I shall show him favour and bid him bathe and come back to dinner at the right time. But the others, the rich, will choke with envy when they see my carriages and horses and pretty slave-boys, two thousand of them, the flower of every age.

Then dinners on gold—silver is cheap and unworthy of me—a pickled fish from Spain, wine from Italy, oil from Spain, as well, our own fresh Attic honey, meat from all parts—boar, and hare, and a variety of game-birds: a pheasant from Phasis, a peacock from India, and a guinea cock: and my several cooks will be experts in sweetmeats and sauces. If I demand a cup or a bowl and pledge a guest, let him drink and take the cup away with him.

The rich men of today are clearly all Iruses Irus, the beggar in the Odyssey. compared to me. Dionicus will never again show his little silver platter or cup in the procession, especially when he sees that my servants use so much silver. For the city this would be my allocation: by way of doles, a hundred drachmas to every citizen per month, half of this to a resident alien; and for the general public theatres and baths to beautify the city; the sea brought up to the Dipylon and a harbour in that region with water brought up by a deep canal, so that my ship may anchor near by in full view of the Ceramicus.

For you, my friends, I’d have told the steward to make an allotment of minted gold: twenty bushels for Samippus, five quarts for Timolaus, and one quart for Lycinus levelled off with a strickle at that, because he’s a babbler and makes fun of my prayer. This is the life I wish to live, extravagant in wealth and luxury, enjoying every pleasure in fullest measure. I have spoken, and may Hermes bring it to fulfilment!

Do you know, Adimantus, by what exceedingly thin thread all this wealth is hanging? If it snaps, then all is gone and your treasure will be ashes. Proverbial.

What do you mean, Lycinus?

But, to let them go, do you think that you will have sure and certain good health? Don’t you see that many rich men live unhappy lives through some affliction—some unable even to walk, some blind, some with internal trouble? You would not accept twice the wealth if the effeminacy of the wealthy Phanomachus went with it, I’m sure, even if you deny it. I say nothing of the plots and robberies and envy and hatred by the mob that go with riches. Do you see how much trouble your treasure causes?

You’re always against me, Lycinus. Very well, you won’t get even a quart, as you’ve abused my wish to the end.

I’m from the mainland, an Arcadian from Mantinea as you know, so I shan’t ask for a ship. I could not show it off to my fellow-citizens, and I shan’t be niggardly with the gods and ask for treasure and measured gold. The gods can do anything, even what seems to be quite stupendous, and the rule of wish which Timolaus laid down was not to hesitate to ask for anything, on the assumption that they will not say no. Well, I ask to be made a king, but not a king like Alexander, Philip’s son, or Ptolemy or Mithridates or any of those who inherited their kingdom from a father. No, let me begin as a brigand with about thirty sworn companions, men absolutely trustworthy and full of spirit. Then let them grow by degrees to three hundred, a thousand, and soon ten thousand, until the total is some fifty thousand heavy infantry and about five thousand horse.

I shall be elected chief by all, because they think me the most able leader and administrator. This very fact is sweet—to be greater than other kings, because I’ve been elected commander by the army on merit, and not inherited the kingdom after someone else has done the work—that would be like Adimantus’s treasure and not so gratifying as when you see that you have won power by your own effort.

Goodness, Samippus! This is no small demand. You’ve asked for the essence of every good there is, to have fifty thousand men choose you as most able to command a force like that. What a wonderful king and general Mantinea had bred and didn’t know it! Never mind! Be king and lead your soldiers and muster your cavalry and your heroic shield-bearers. I want to know where you are going with an army of that size from Arcadia and who will be your first unhappy victims.

Listen, Lycinus, or better still come with us if you like. I’ll make you a cavalry officer in the fifty thousand.

Well, I’m grateful for the honour, your majesty. I bow my head in Persian style and do obeisance sweeping my hands behind me, honouring your upright turban and your diadem. But make one of these mighty men your cavalry officer. I’m dreadfully bad at horses and never sat on a horse in my life before. I’m afraid that when the trumpet blows for action I’ll fall off and be trampled on by all those hooves in the throng; or the horse may be spirited and take the bit between its teeth and carry me right among the enemy; or I shall have to be tied to the saddle if I’m going to stay up and hold the reins.

I’ll lead your cavalry, Samippus. Let Lycinus have the right wing. I deserve the best from you in return for all those bushels of minted gold I gave you.

Let us ask the cavalry personally, Adimantus, if they will have you as commander. Gentlemen of the cavalry, those in favour of Adimantus as cavalry officer, raise your hands.

They’ve voted unanimously, you see, Samippus.

Well, you command the cavalry and let Lycinus have the right. Timolaus here shall take the left. I shall be in the centre as the law lays down for Persian kings when they are with their troops.

Let us now advance to Corinth over the hills after a prayer to Royal Zeus; and when we have conquered all of Greece—we shall have no opposition to our enormous numbers and have an easy victory—we shall embark on triremes, putting the cavalry on horse-transports—enough corn and sufficient boats and everything else is ready at Cenchreae—let us cross the Aegean to Ionia. There let us sacrifice to Artemis and capture the cities easily—they are unwalled—leave governors behind, and press on to Syria through Caria first, then Lycia, Pamphylia, Pisidia, Cilicia (both coast and hill areas), until we reach the Euphrates.

Please, your Majesty, leave me behind as satrap of Greece. I’m a coward and I couldn’t bear to go far away from things at home. You seem to be pushing on to the Armenians and Parthians, warlike nations, good shots with the bow. So give the right wing to someone else and leave me in Greece like an Antipater. Alexander left him in Macedon. I don’t want anyone to stick me with an arrow hitting some exposed part of my poor body when I’m leading your phalanx near Susa or Bactra.

You’re deserting the levy, Lycinus, you coward. It’s the law to cut the head off anyone seen leaving the ranks. But now that we are at the Euphrates, the river has been bridged and all is safe in the rear and I’ve put prefects over each tribe to keep control of everything. Others meanwhile will go off for us to win over Phoenicia and Palestine and afterwards Egypt too.

You cross first, Lycinus, with the right wing, then I, and Timolaus after me; last of all, Adimantus, bring the cavalry. Throughout Mesopotamia not an enemy has met us. They surrendered themselves and their strongholds quite voluntarily. We came against Babylon unexpectedly and entered the walls and held the city. The King was busy at Ctesiphon when he heard of our approach. Then he came to Seleucia, and is summoning and making ready all the cavalry he can and bowmen and slingers. The scouts report about a million already mustered under arms, including two hundred thousand mounted archers. Yet the Armenians are not yet here nor those from the Caspian Sea nor the men from Bactra, only those from near at hand and the suburbs of the empire. See how easily he mustered all those thousands. Now it’s time for us to consider what to do next.

I say you infantry must be off on the road to Ctesiphon while we cavalry stay here to guard Babylon.

Are you playing the coward too, Adimantus, now you’re close to danger? What do you think, Timolaus?

March against the enemy with your entire army and don’t wait until the arrival of allies from all around makes them better prepared. No, let us attack the enemy while they are still on the march.

Good! What’s your opinion, Lycinus?

We’ll go on then, if you don’t mind. Be good soldiers in danger and don’t betray our native spirit! The enemy are coming on now, I fancy. So let Enyalius The God of War. be our watchword! When the trumpeter gives the signal, raise the battle-cry, crash your spears against your shields, charge and get to grips with ’em! Get under their arrows! Don’t let them shoot us down at long range! Now we’re at close quarters and Timolaus and the left have routed those against them—Medes they are. There’s no decision yet in my sector—they’re Persians here and the king’s with them. All the barbarian horse are charging our right. So show your quality, Lycinus, and encourage your men to receive the charge!

Oh, what luck! All the cavalry are charging against me, and they’ve thought me alone worth attacking. Well, if they press me hard, I fancy I shall desert and run away to the gymnasium and leave you behind still fighting your war.

Don’t do that! You are already mastering them on your side. Now, as you see, I am going to fight the king in single combat. He is challenging me, and to refuse would be absolutely disgraceful.

Yes, and you’ll be wounded by him in a moment. It’s a royal privilege to be wounded fighting for your empire.

You are right. Still, it’s only a slight wound and not in an exposed place, so the scar won’t disfigure me afterwards. But did you see how I charged him and ran him through and his horse too with one throw of my spear, and then cut off his head and stripped him of his diadem and now I am the Great King with everyone doing obeisance? Let the barbarians do obeisance!

You I’ll rule in Greek manner under the title of sole commander. Then think how many cities I shall found and name after myself, and how many I shall storm and destroy that have been insolent to my empire! Of all men I’ll punish that rich Cydias in particular: he used to be my neighbour; he encroached on my property little by little and drove me from my land.

That’s enough, Samippus. Now you’ve won your big fight it’s time for your victory-feast in Babylon—I think your empire is six stades long. It is the turn of Timolaus now to wish for whatever he wants.

Well, but, Lycinus, what do you think of my wish?

Much more laborious and violent, most glorious Majesty, than Adimantus’s. He lived in luxury and bestowed on his fellow-drinkers golden cups of two talents weight each. You were wounded in single combat and were afraid and anxious night and day—you had not only your enemies to fear, but thousands of plots and envy from those around you and hatred and flattery: not one true friend did you have, but all feigned goodwill for fear or hope. You had not even a phantom enjoyment of your pleasures, only the appearance, purple embroidered with gold, a white ribbon on your brow, and bodyguards to go before you, but otherwise intolerable hardship and much unpleasantness. Then you must do business with missions from your enemies or pass judgments or send instructions to your subjects; some tribe has revolted or some foreign state is invading. You must fear and suspect everything, and in fine everyone will count you happy except your own self.

Besides, it is humiliating that sickness will come to you as to ordinary folk and fever will not set you apart as a king: Death has no fear of your bodyguard, but comes when he will and takes you moaning with no respect for your diadem. From what a height you will fall when, jerked from your royal throne, you depart by the same road as the common crowd, all equal as you are driven in the herd of the dead. Above ground you will leave behind a high mound and a lofty tombstone or a pyramid with inscribed corners, honours too late for you to see. Those statues and temples which cities erect to flatter you, and your great name, all will soon disappear unnoticed and be gone, neglected. But if all remains as long as may be, what enjoyment will now come to one who is beyond feeling? Do you see what further troubles you will have in life from fear, anxiety, and labour, and what will remain with you after you depart?