Dialogi mortuorum
Lucian of Samosata
The Works of Lucian of Samosata, complete, with exceptions specified in thepreface, Vol. 1. Fowler, H. W. and Fowlere, F.G., translators. Oxford at the Clarendon Press, 1905.
Aeacus Now then, Protesilaus, what do you mean by assaulting and throttling Helen?
Protesilaus Why, it was all her fault that I died, leaving my house half built, and my bride a widow.
Aeacus You should blame Menelaus, for taking you all to Troy after such a light-o’-love.
Protesilaus That is true; he shall answer it.
Menelaus No, no, my dear sir; Paris surely is the man; he outraged all rights in carrying off his host’s wife with him. He deserves throttling, if you like, and not from you only, but from Greeks and barbarians as well, for all the deaths he brought upon them,
Protesilaus Ah, now I have it. Here, you—you Paris! you shall not escape my clutches,
Paris Oh, come, sir, you will never wrong one of the same gentle craft as yourself. Am I not a lover too, and a subject
Protesilaus There is reason in that. Oh, would that I had Love himself here in these hands!
Aeacus Permit me to charge myself with his defence. He does not absolutely deny his responsibility for Paris’s love; but that for your death he refers to yourself, Protesilaus. You forgot all about your bride, fell in love with fame, and, directly the fleet touched the Troad, took that rash senseless leap, which brought you first to shore and to death.
Protesilaus Now it is my turn to correct, Aeacus. The blame does not rest with me, but with Fate; so was my thread spun from the beginning.
Aeacus Exactly so; then why blame our good friends here?