Epistles

Next, I requested that Dion’s family should have possession of his property, instead of the distributors, whom you wot of, having the distribution of it. And further, I deemed it right that the revenue which was usually paid over to him year by year should be forwarded to him all the more, rather than all the less, because of my presence. None of these requests being granted, I asked leave to depart. Thereupon you kept urging me to stop for the year, declaring that you would sell all Dion’s property and send one half of the proceeds to Corinth and retain the other half for his son. And I could mention many other promises none of which you fulfilled; but the number of them is so great that I cut it short. For when you had sold all the goods, without Dion’s consent—though you had declared that without his consent you would not dispose of them—you put the coping-stone on all your promises, my admirable friend, in a most outrageous way: you invented a plan that was neither noble nor ingenious nor just nor profitable —namely, to scare me off from so much as seeking for the dispatch of the money, as being in ignorance of the events then going on. For when you sought to expel Heracleides [*](A leading Syracusan noble, supporter of Dion; cf. Plat. L. 4.320e, Plat. L. 7.348b; Theodotes was a connection of H.) unjustly, as it seemed to the Syracusans as well as to myself—because I had joined with Theodotes and Eurybius in entreating you not to do so, you took this as an ample excuse, and asserted that it had long been plain to you that I paid no regard to you, but only to Dion and Dion’s friends and connections, and now that Theodotes and Heracleides, who were Dion’s connections, were the subjects of accusations, I was using every means to prevent their paying the just penalty. Such, then, was the course of events as regards our association in political affairs. And if you perceived any other estrangement in my attitude towards you, you may reasonably suppose that that was the way in which all these things took place. Nor need you be surprised; for I should justly be accounted base by any man of sense had I been influenced by the greatness of your power to betray my old and intimate guest-friend—a man, to say the least, in no wise inferior to you— when, because of you, he was in distress, and to prefer you, the man who did the wrong, and to do everything just as you bade me—for filthy lucre’s sake, obviously; for to this, and nothing else, men would have ascribed this change of front in me, if I had changed. Well, then, it was the fact that things took this course, owing to you, which produced this wolf-love [*](i.e. quarelling. cf. Plat. Rep. 566a; Plat. Phaedrus 241c, Plat. Phaedrus 241d; Plat. Laws 906d.) and want of fellowship between you and me.

Practically continuous with the statement made just now there comes, I find, that other statement against which, as I said, I have to make my second defence. Consider now and pay the closest attention, in case I seem to you to be lying at all and not speaking the truth. I affirm that when Archedemus [*](cf. Plat. L. 2.310b.) and Aristocritus [*](cf. Plat. L. 13.363d. For in the garden cf. Plat. L. 2.313a.) were with us in the garden, some twenty days before I departed home from Syracuse, you made the same complaint against me that you are making now—that I cared more for Heracleides and for all the rest than for you. And in the presence of those men you asked me whether I remembered bidding you, when I first arrived, to plant settlers in the Greek cities. I granted you that I did remember, and that I still believed that this was the best policy. But, Dionysius, I must also repeat, the next observation that was made on this occasion. For I asked you whether this and this only was what I advised, or something else besides and you made answer to me in a most indignant and most mocking tone, as you supposed—and consequently the object of your mockery then has now turned out a reality instead of a dream [*](This seems to mean that Plato’s scheme of education, scoffed at by Dionysius, was the secret of Dion’s success—the dream of the philosopher-king being realized in his person.); for you said with a very artificial laugh, if my memory serves me—You bade me be educated before I did all these things or else not do them. I replied that your memory was excellent. You then said—Did you mean educated in land-measuring or what? But I refrained from making the retort which it occurred to me to make, for I was alarmed about the homeward voyage I was hoping for, lest instead of having an open road I should find it shut, and all because of a short saying. Well then, the purpose of all I have said is this: do not slander me by declaring that I was hindering you from colonizing the Greek cities that were ruined by the barbarians, and from relieving the Syracusans by substituting a monarchy for a tyranny. For you could never bring any false accusation against me that was less appropriate than these; and, moreover, in refutation of them I could bring still clearer statements if any competent tribunal were anywhere to be seen—showing that it was I who was urging you, and you who were refusing, to execute these plans. And, verily, it is easy to affirm frankly that these plans, if they had been executed, were the best both for you and the Syracusans, and for all the Siceliots. But, my friend, if you deny having said this, when you have said it, I am justified; while if you confess it, you should further agree that Stesichorus [*](A lyric poet, circa 600 B.C., said to have been struck blind for his attacks on the reputation of Helen of Troy, which he subsequently withdrew in his recantation (palinode); cf. Plat. Phaedrus 243a, Plat. Phaedrus 243b.) was a wise man, and imitate his palinode, and renounce the false for the true tale.