De Morte Peregrini

Lucian of Samosata

Lucian, Vol. 5. Harmon, A. M., editor. London: William Heinemann, Ltd.; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1936.

When he had said these words, all the bystanders shouted: “Let them be burned right now; they deserve the flames!” And the man got down again laughing; but “Nestor failed not to mark the din: 3 I mean Theagenes. When he heard the shouting he came at once, took the platform, and fell to

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ranting and telling countless malicious tales about the man who had just got down—I do not know what that excellent gentleman’s name was. For my part, I left him splitting his lungs and went off to see the athletes, as the Hellanodicae were said to be already in the Plethrium.[*](According to Pausanias (VI, 23, 2), a place in the Gymnasium of Elis where the officials of the games (Hellanodicae) determined by lot the matching of the athletes. )

Well, there you have what happened at Elis; and when we reached Olympia, the rear chamber[*](Of the temple of Zeus; as it was open at the end, it formed a sort of portico. Cf. Runaways, 7; Herodotus, 1. ) was full of people criticising Proteus of praising his purpose, so that most of them even came to blows. Finally, Proteus himself appeared, escorted by a countless multitude, after the contest of the heralds, and had somewhat to say about himself, telling of the life that he had led and the risks that he had run, and of all the troubles that he had endured for philosophy’s sake. His speech was protracted, though I heard but little on account of the number of bystanders. Afterwards, fearing to be crushed in such a throng, because I saw this happening to many, I went away, bidding a long farewell to the sophist enamoured of death who was pronouncing his own funeral oration before his demise.

This much, however, I overheard; he said that he wanted to put a tip of gold on a golden bow;[*](Pandarus the Trojan (Iliad, IV, 111) put a tip of gold on the bow he had fashioned of horn. The golden bow (βιῷ) of Peregrinus is his life (βίῳ). ) for one who had lived as Heracles should die like Heracles and be commingled with the ether. “And I wish,” said he, “to benefit mankind by showing them the

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way in which one should despise death; wherefore all men ought to play Philoctetes to me.” The more witless among the people began to shed tears and call out: “Preserve your life for the Greeks!” but the more virile part bawled “Carry out your purpose!” by which the old man was immoderately upset, because he hoped that all would cling to him and not give him over to the fire, but retain him in life—against his will, naturally! That “Carry out your purpose” assailing him quite unexpectedly caused him to turn still paler, although his colour was already deathly, and even to tremble slightly, so that he brought his speech to an end.

You can imagine, I expect, how I laughed; for it was not fitting to pity a man so desperately in love with glory beyond all others who are driven by the same Fury. Anyhow, he was being escorted by crowds and getting his fill of glory as he gazed at the number of his admirers, not knowing, poor wretch, that men on their way to the cross or in the grip of the executioner have many more at their heels.

Soon the Olympic games were ended, the most splendid Olympics that I have seen, though it was then the fourth time that I had been a spectator. As it was not easy to secure a carriage, since many were leaving at the same time, I lingered on against my will, and Peregrinus kept making postponements, but at last had announced a night on which he would stage his cremation; so, as one of my friends had invited me to go along, I arose at midnight and took the road to Harpina, where the pyre was. This is quite twenty furlongs from Olympia as one goes past

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the hippodrome towards the east. As soon as we arrived, we found a pyre built in a pit about six feet deep. It was composed mostly of torchwood, and the interstices filled with brush, that it might take fire quickly.