Book 2, Chapter 1

16 min

Now, if the effect of such discourses was, as I imagine, to deter his hearers from the paths of quackery and false-seeming, so I am sure that language like the following was calculated to stimulate his followers to practise self-control and endurance: self-control in the matters of eating, drinking, sleeping, and the cravings of lust; endurance of cold and heat and toil and pain. He had noticed the undue licence which one of his acquaintances allowed himself in all such matters. Accordingly he thus addressed him:

I believe that such conversations discouraged his listeners from deception and false appearances. I am equally sure that words like the following encouraged his followers to practice self-control and endurance. Self-control meant restraint in eating, drinking, sleeping, and sexual desire. Endurance meant bearing cold, heat, hard work, and pain. He had noticed that one of his acquaintances indulged himself too freely in all these matters. So he addressed him as follows:

This sentence ends Bk. I in the Greek. The text here is either incorrect or very awkward.

Compare Grote, "Plato," III. xxxviii. p. 530.

Tell me, Aristippus (Socrates said), supposing you had two children entrusted to you to educate, one of them must be brought up with an aptitude for government, and the other without the faintest propensity to rule—how would you educate them? What do you say? Shall we begin our inquiry from the beginning, as it were, with the bare elements of food and nutriment?

Tell me, Aristippus, Socrates said, suppose you were entrusted with educating two children. One must be raised with an aptitude for governing, and the other with no inclination to rule at all. How would you educate them? What do you say? Shall we start our inquiry at the beginning, as it were, with the basics of food and nourishment?

Ar. Yes, food to begin with, by all means, being a first principle, without which there is no man living but would perish.

Ar. Yes, food first, by all means. It is a basic necessity, without which everyone would die.

Aristippus makes a play on the word {arkhe}.

Soc. Well, then, we may expect, may we not, that a desire to grasp food at certain seasons will exhibit itself in both the children?

Soc. Well, then, we may expect both children to want to grab food at certain times, may we not?

Ar. It is to be expected.

Ar. That's to be expected.

Soc. Which, then, of the two must be trained, of his own free will, to prosecute a pressing business rather than gratify the belly?

Soc. Which of the two, then, must be trained to choose, of his own free will, to attend to urgent business rather than satisfy his appetite?

{proairesis}.

Ar. No doubt the one who is being trained to govern, if we would not have affairs of state neglected during his government.

Ar. No doubt, the person being trained to govern, if we do not want state affairs neglected during his rule.

Literally, "along of."

Soc. And the same pupil must be furnished with a power of holding out against thirst also when the craving to quench it comes upon him?

Soc. And must the same pupil also learn to resist thirst when the urge to drink comes?

Ar. Certainly he must.

Ar. Of course he must.

Soc. And on which of the two shall we confer such self-control in regard to sleep as shall enable him to rest late and rise early, or keep vigil, if the need arise?

Soc. And which of the two should we give the self-control to go to bed late and get up early, or stay awake all night if necessary?

Ar. To the same one of the two must be given that endurance also.

Ar. That endurance must also be given to the same one of the two.

Soc. Well, and a continence in regard to matters sexual so great that nothing of the sort shall prevent him from doing his duty? Which of them claims that?

Soc. And what about sexual self-control? Which of them claims to have so much that sexual desire never prevents him from doing his duty?

Ar. The same one of the pair again.

Ar. The same one of the two again.

Soc. Well, and on which of the two shall be bestowed, as a further gift, the voluntary resolution to face toils rather than turn and flee from them?

Soc. Well, which of the two will also be given the willingness to face hard work rather than run away from it?

Ar. This, too, belongs of right to him who is being trained for government.

Ar. This, too, rightfully belongs to someone being trained to govern.

Soc. Well, and to which of them will it better accord to be taught all knowledge necessary towards the mastery of antagonists?

Soc. Well, which of them would be better suited to learning all the knowledge needed to overcome opponents?

Ar. To our future ruler certainly, for without these parts of learning all his other capacities will be merely waste.

Ar. Certainly to our future ruler, because without these areas of learning, all his other abilities will be wasted.

Soc. Will not a man so educated be less liable to be entrapped by rival powers, and so escape a common fate of living creatures, some of which (as we all know) are hooked through their own greediness, and often even in spite of a native shyness; but through appetite for food they are drawn towards the bait, and are caught; while others are similarly ensnared by drink?

Soc. Wouldn't a man educated in this way be less likely to fall into the traps of rival powers? And wouldn't he escape a common fate of living creatures? As we all know, some are caught on hooks because of their own greed, often despite their natural shyness. Their appetite for food draws them to the bait, and they are caught. Others are similarly trapped by their desire for drink.

(SS. 4, 5, L. Dind. ed Lips.)

Ar. Undoubtedly.

Ar. Certainly.

Soc. And others again are victims of amorous heat, as quails, for instance, or partridges, which, at the cry of the hen-bird, with lust and expectation of such joys grow wild, and lose their power of computing dangers: on they rush, and fall into the snare of the hunter?

Soc. And others fall victim to sexual desire, such as quails and partridges. When they hear a female’s call, desire and the expectation of pleasure drive them wild. They lose their ability to judge danger, rush forward, and fall into the hunter’s trap.

Aristippus assented.

Aristippus agreed.

Soc. And would it not seem to be a base thing for a man to be affected like the silliest bird or beast? as when the adulterer invades the innermost sanctum of the house, though he is well aware of the risks which his crime involves, the formidable penalties of the law, the danger of being caught in the toils, and then suffering the direst contumely. Considering all the hideous penalties which hang over the adulterer's head, considering also the many means at hand to release him from the thraldom of his passion, that a man should so drive headlong on to the quicksands of perdition —what are we to say of such frenzy? The wretch who can so behave must surely be tormented by an evil spirit?

Soc. And wouldn’t it be shameful for a man to behave like the most foolish bird or beast? Consider an adulterer who enters the most private part of a house. He knows well the risks his crime involves: the severe legal penalties, the danger of being caught, and the terrible humiliation that would follow. All these dreadful penalties hang over the adulterer’s head. He also has many ways to free himself from the grip of his passion. Yet he rushes headlong into ruin. What are we to say of such madness? Surely a wretch who behaves this way must be tormented by an evil spirit?

{eis as eirktas}. The innermost rooms.

Or, "he knows he risks the penalties the law prescribes for his crime if he falls into the trap, is caught, and is mutilated."

Or, "leap headlong into the jaws of danger."

{kakodaimonontos}.

Ar. So it strikes me.

Ar. That's how it seems to me.

Soc. And does it not strike you as a sign of strange indifference that, whereas the greater number of the indispensable affairs of men, as for instance, those of war and agriculture, and more than half the rest, need to be conducted under the broad canopy of heaven, yet the majority of men are quite untrained to wrestle with cold and heat?

Soc. Doesn’t it seem strangely careless that most people are completely untrained to cope with cold and heat? Yet most of the essential tasks people do, such as warfare and farming, and more than half of all other tasks, must be done outdoors.

Or, "in the open air."

Aristippus again assented.

Aristippus agreed again.

Soc. And do you not agree that he who is destined to rule must train himself to bear these things lightly?

Soc. And don't you agree that someone destined to rule must train himself to bear these things easily?

Ar. Most certainly.

Ar. Absolutely.

Soc. And whilst we rank those who are self-disciplined in all these matters among persons fit to rule, we are bound to place those incapable of such conduct in the category of persons without any pretension whatsoever to be rulers?

Soc. We consider people fit to rule if they are self-disciplined in all these matters. Shouldn't we also consider those who lack such self-discipline to have no claim at all to be rulers?

Ar. I assent.

Ar. I agree.

Soc. Well, then, since you know the rank peculiar to either section of mankind, did it ever strike you to consider to which of the two you are best entitled to belong?

Soc. Well, since you know the status of each group of people, have you ever considered which group you are most entitled to belong to?

Yes I have (replied Aristippus). I do not dream for a moment of ranking myself in the class of those who wish to rule. In fact, considering how serious a business it is to cater for one's own private needs, I look upon it as the mark of a fool not to be content with that, but to further saddle oneself with the duty of providing the rest of the community with whatever they may be pleased to want. That, at the cost of much personal enjoyment, a man should put himself at the head of a state, and then, if he fail to carry through every jot and tittle of that state's desire, be held to criminal account, does seem to me the very extravagance of folly. Why, bless me! states claim to treat their rulers precisely as I treat my domestic slaves. I expect my attendants to furnish me with an abundance of necessaries, but not to lay a finger on one of them themselves. So these states regard it as the duty of a ruler to provide them with all the good things imaginable, but to keep his own hands off them all the while. So then, for my part, if anybody desires to have a heap of pother himself, and be a nuisance to the rest of the world, I will educate him in the manner suggested, and he shall take his place among those who are fit to rule; but for myself, I beg to be enrolled amongst those who wish to spend their days as easily and pleasantly as possible.

Yes, I have, replied Aristippus. I would not dream of counting myself among those who want to rule. Providing for one's own needs is a serious enough task. I think it foolish not to be content with that, but to take on the duty of providing whatever the rest of the community may want. A man gives up much of his own pleasure to lead a state. Then, if he fails to fulfill every detail of its wishes, he is held criminally responsible. That seems to me the height of folly. Good heavens! States claim the right to treat their rulers just as I treat my household slaves. I expect my servants to provide me with plenty of necessities, but not to touch any themselves. In the same way, states consider it a ruler's duty to provide them with every imaginable good thing, while keeping his own hands off them all. So, if anyone wants a great deal of trouble for himself, and wants to be a nuisance to everyone else, I will educate him as suggested. He can then take his place among those fit to rule. But as for me, I would rather be counted among those who want to live as easily and pleasantly as possible.

Or, "but he must have no finger in the pie himself."

See Kuhner ad loc.

Soc. Shall we then at this point turn and inquire which of the two are likely to lead the pleasanter life, the rulers or the ruled?

Soc. Shall we now consider which group is likely to lead a more pleasant life, the rulers or the ruled?

Ar. By all means let us do so.

Ar. Yes, let's do that.

Soc. To begin then with the nations and races known to ourselves. In Asia the Persians are the rulers, while the Syrians, Phrygians, Lydians are ruled; and in Europe we find the Scythians ruling, and the Maeotians being ruled. In Africa the Carthaginians are rulers, the Libyans ruled. Which of these two sets respectively leads the happier life, in your opinion? Or, to come nearer home—you are yourself a Hellene—which among Hellenes enjoy the happier existence, think you, the dominant or the subject states?

Soc. Let us begin with the nations and peoples we know. In Asia, the Persians rule, while the Syrians, Phrygians, and Lydians are ruled. In Europe, the Scythians rule, and the Maeotians are ruled. In Africa the Carthaginians rule, and the Libyans are ruled. Which group do you think lives more happily, the rulers or the ruled? Or let us look closer to home. You are a Hellene yourself. Which Hellenes do you think live more happily, those in ruling states or those in subject states?

Or, "the outer world, the non-Hellenic races and nationalities of which we have any knowledge."

Literally, "Libya."

Nay, I would have you to understand (exclaimed Aristippus) that I am just as far from placing myself in the ranks of slavery; there is, I take it, a middle path between the two which it is my ambition to tread, avoiding rule and slavery alike; it lies through freedom—the high road which leads to happiness.

No, I want you to understand, exclaimed Aristippus, that I am just as unwilling to become a slave. I believe there is a middle path between ruling and slavery, and I aim to follow it. It avoids both and leads through freedom, the high road to happiness.

Or, "Pardon me interrupting you, Socrates; but I have not the slightest intention of placing myself." See W. L. Newman, op. cit. i. 306.

Soc. True, if only your path could avoid human beings, as it avoids rule and slavery, there would be something in what you say. But being placed as you are amidst human beings, if you purpose neither to rule nor to be ruled, and do not mean to dance attendance, if you can help it, on those who rule, you must surely see that the stronger have an art to seat the weaker on the stool of repentance both in public and in private, and to treat them as slaves. I daresay you have not failed to note this common case: a set of people has sown and planted, whereupon in comes another set and cuts their corn and fells their fruit-trees, and in every way lays siege to them because, though weaker, they refuse to pay them proper court, till at length they are persuaded to accept slavery rather than war against their betters. And in private life also, you will bear me out, the brave and powerful are known to reduce the helpless and cowardly to bondage, and to make no small profit out of their victims.

Soc. True, if your path could avoid people as it avoids ruling and being ruled, you would have a point. But you live among people. You intend neither to rule nor to be ruled, and you do not mean to serve those in power if you can help it. Surely you can see that the stronger know how to make the weaker regret their position , both in public and in private, and how to treat them as slaves. Surely you have noticed a common example. One group sows crops and plants trees. Then another group comes along, cuts down their grain, and fells their fruit trees. The stronger group attacks them in every way because, though weaker, they refuse to show proper deference. At last, the weaker group is persuaded to accept slavery rather than fight those stronger than themselves. And in private life, too, you will agree that the brave and powerful enslave the helpless and cowardly, and make considerable profit from their victims.

See "Symp." iii. 11; "Cyrop." II. ii. 14; Plat. "Ion," 535 E; L. Dindorf ad loc.

Ar. Yes, but I must tell you I have a simple remedy against all such misadventures. I do not confine myself to any single civil community. I roam the wide world a foreigner.

Ar. Yes, but I must tell you I have a simple remedy for all such troubles. I do not limit myself to any one city. I travel the world as a foreigner.

Soc. Well, now, that is a masterly stroke, upon my word! Of course, ever since the decease of Sinis, and Sciron, and Procrustes, foreign travellers have had an easy time of it. But still, if I bethink me, even in these modern days the members of free communities do pass laws in their respective countries for self-protection against wrong-doing. Over and above their personal connections, they provide themselves with a host of friends; they gird their cities about with walls and battlements; they collect armaments to ward off evil-doers; and to make security doubly sure, they furnish themselves with allies from foreign states. In spite of all which defensive machinery these same free citizens do occasionally fall victims to injustice. But you, who are without any of these aids; you, who pass half your days on the high roads where iniquity is rife; you, who, into whatever city you enter, are less than the least of its free members, and moreover are just the sort of person whom any one bent on mischief would single out for attack—yet you, with your foreigner's passport, are to be exempt from injury? So you flatter yourself. And why? Will the state authorities cause proclamation to be made on your behalf: "The person of this man Aristippus is secure; let his going out and his coming in be free from danger"? Is that the ground of your confidence? or do you rather rest secure in the consciousness that you would prove such a slave as no master would care to keep? For who would care to have in his house a fellow with so slight a disposition to work and so strong a propensity to extravagance? Suppose we stop and consider that very point: how do masters deal with that sort of domestic? If I am not mistaken, they chastise his wantonness by starvation; they balk his thieving tendencies by bars and bolts where there is anything to steal; they hinder him from running away by bonds and imprisonment; they drive the sluggishness out of him with the lash. Is it not so? Or how do you proceed when you discover the like tendency in one of your domestics?

Soc. Well, now, that is a brilliant idea, I must say! Of course, ever since Sinis, Sciron, and Procrustes died, foreign travelers have had an easy time. But even today, if I recall correctly, free communities pass laws to protect themselves against wrongdoing. Besides their personal connections, they gather many friends. They surround their cities with walls and battlements and collect weapons to fend off wrongdoers. To make themselves doubly secure, they also make allies of foreign states. Despite all these defenses, these free citizens sometimes still suffer injustice. But you have none of these protections. You spend half your days on the roads, where wrongdoing is common. In every city you enter, you rank below even its lowest free citizen. And you are just the sort of person a troublemaker would single out for attack. Yet you think that, as a foreigner, you will escape harm. Why? Will the authorities make a proclamation for you: "The person of this man Aristippus is safe. Let him come and go without danger"? Is that why you feel confident? Or do you feel safe because you know you would be a slave no master would want to keep? After all, who would want a man in his house who is so unwilling to work and so eager to spend? Let us consider that point. How do masters treat servants like that? If I am not mistaken, they punish their self-indulgence by starving them. They stop them from stealing by putting anything worth stealing behind bars and bolts. They keep them from running away by chaining and imprisoning them. And they drive the laziness out of them with a whip. Isn’t that so? Or what do you do when you find the same tendencies in one of your servants?

Or, "Well foiled!" "A masterly fall! my prince of wrestlers."

For these mythical highway robbers, see Diod. iv. 59. For Sciron in particular, see Plut. "Theseus," 10.

Or, "where so many suffer wrong."

Ar. I correct them with all the plagues, till I force them to serve me properly. But, Socrates, to return to your pupil educated in the royal art, which, if I mistake not, you hold to be happiness: how, may I ask, will he be better off than others who lie in evil case, in spite of themselves, simply because they suffer perforce, but in his case the hunger and the thirst, the cold shivers and the lying awake at nights, with all the changes he will ring on pain, are of his own choosing? For my part I cannot see what difference it makes, provided it is one and the same bare back which receives the stripes, whether the whipping be self-appointed or unasked for; nor indeed does it concern my body in general, provided it be my body, whether I am beleaguered by a whole armament of such evils of my own will or against my will—except only for the folly which attaches to self-appointed suffering.

Ar. I punish them with every kind of torment until I force them to serve me properly. But, Socrates, let us return to your pupil trained in the royal art, which you consider happiness, if I am not mistaken. How will he be better off than others who suffer against their will? They endure hardship because they have no choice. But he chooses his own hunger and thirst, shivering in the cold, sleepless nights, and all his varied forms of pain. For my part, I cannot see what difference it makes whether the whipping is chosen or forced upon me. The same bare back receives the lashes either way. Nor does it make any difference to my body whether a whole army of such evils besieges it willingly or unwillingly. The only difference is the folly of choosing to suffer.

See below, IV. ii. 11; Plat. "Statesm." 259 B; "Euthyd." 291 C; K. Joel, op. cit. p. 387 foll. "Aristippus anticipates Adeimantus" ("Rep." 419), W. L. Newman, op. cit. i. 395.

Compare “suffers the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

Soc. What, Aristippus, does it not seem to you that, as regards such matters, there is all the difference between voluntary and involuntary suffering, in that he who starves of his own accord can eat when he chooses, and he who thirsts of his own free will can drink, and so for the rest; but he who suffers in these ways perforce cannot desist from the suffering when the humour takes him? Again, he who suffers hardship voluntarily, gaily confronts his troubles, being buoyed on hope —just as a hunter in pursuit of wild beasts, through hope of capturing his quarry, finds toil a pleasure—and these are but prizes of little worth in return for their labours; but what shall we say of their reward who toil to obtain to themselves good friends, or to subdue their enemies, or that through strength of body and soul they may administer their households well, befriend their friends, and benefit the land which gave them birth? Must we not suppose that these too will take their sorrows lightly, looking to these high ends? Must we not suppose that they too will gaily confront existence, who have to support them not only their conscious virtue, but the praise and admiration of the world? And once more, habits of indolence, along with the fleeting pleasures of the moment, are incapable, as gymnastic trainers say, of setting up a good habit of body, or of implanting in the soul any knowledge worthy of account; whereas by painstaking endeavour in the pursuit of high and noble deeds, as good men tell us, through endurance we shall in the end attain the goal. So Hesiod somewhere says:

Soc. Aristippus, don’t you think there is all the difference between voluntary and involuntary suffering in such matters? Someone who chooses to go hungry can eat when he wants. Someone who chooses to go thirsty can drink, and so on. But someone forced to suffer these things cannot stop suffering whenever he feels like it. Again, someone who willingly endures hardship faces his troubles cheerfully, sustained by hope . A hunter pursuing wild animals finds the work pleasurable because he hopes to catch his prey. Yet the prizes hunters gain for their efforts are worth little. What, then, of the reward of those who work to gain good friends or defeat their enemies? Or of those who work to strengthen body and soul, so they can manage their households well, help their friends, and benefit the land of their birth? Surely they too will bear their hardships lightly, with such high goals in view. Surely they too will face life cheerfully, supported not only by their awareness of their own virtue, but also by the praise and admiration of the world. And, as gymnastic trainers say, habits of laziness and the passing pleasures of the moment cannot produce a healthy body or give the soul any knowledge worth having. But good men tell us that, by working hard in pursuit of high and noble deeds, we shall finally reach our goal through endurance. As Hesiod says somewhere:

Compare I. vi. 8 above.

Or, "in admiration of themselves, the praise and envy of the world at large."

See Hippocrates, "V. Med." 18.

Hesiod, "Works and Days," 285. See Plato, "Prot." 340 C, "Rep." ii. 364 D, and "Laws," iv. 718 E.

Wickedness may a man take wholesale with ease, smooth is the way and her dwelling-place is very nigh; but in front of virtue the immortal gods have placed toil and sweat, long is the path and steep that leads to her, and rugged at the first, but when the summit of the pass is reached, then for all its roughness the path grows easy.

A person can easily embrace wickedness in abundance. The way is smooth, and wickedness dwells very close by. But the immortal gods have placed toil and sweat before virtue. The path to virtue is long and steep, and rough at first. But when the summit of the pass is reached, the path becomes easy, despite all its roughness.

And Ephicharmus bears his testimony when he says:

And Ephicharmus confirms this when he says:

Epicharmus of Cos was the leading comic poet among the Dorians. He flourished around 500 B.C. Cf. Plat. "Theaet." 152 E, "the prince of comedy"; "Gorg." 505 D.

The gods sell us all good things in return for our labours.

The gods sell us all good things in return for our work.

And again in another passage he exclaims:

And in another passage he exclaims:

Set not thine heart on soft things, thou knave, lest thou light upon the hard.

Don't set your heart on easy things, you scoundrel, or you may come across hard ones.

And that wise man Prodicus delivers himself in a like strain concerning virtue in that composition of his about Heracles, which crowds have listened to. This, as far as I can recollect it, is the substance at least of what he says:

The wise Prodicus speaks similarly about virtue in his work on Heracles, which crowds have listened to. As far as I can remember, this is at least the substance of what he says:

Prodicus of Ceos. See Plat. "Men." 24; "Cratyl." 1; Philostr. "Vit. Soph." i. 12.

Or, "which he is fond of reciting as a specimen of style." According to Suidas, {Prodikos}, the title of the {epideixis} was {'Orai}.

"When Heracles was emerging from boyhood into the bloom of youth, having reached that season in which the young man, now standing upon the verge of independence, shows plainly whether he will enter upon the path of virtue or of vice, he went forth into a quiet place, and sat debating with himself which of those two paths he should pursue; and as he there sat musing, there appeared to him two women of great stature which drew nigh to him. The one was fair to look upon, frank and free by gift of nature, her limbs adorned with purity and her eyes with bashfulness; sobriety set the rhythm of her gait, and she was clad in white apparel. The other was of a different type; the fleshy softness of her limbs betrayed her nurture, while the complexion of her skin was embellished that she might appear whiter and rosier than she really was, and her figure that she might seem taller than nature made her; she stared with wide-open eyes, and the raiment wherewith she was clad served but to reveal the ripeness of her bloom. With frequent glances she surveyed her person, or looked to see if others noticed her; while ever and anon she fixed her gaze upon the shadow of herself intently.

"When Heracles was leaving boyhood and entering the prime of youth, he reached a decisive age. At that age, a young man stands on the edge of independence and clearly shows whether he will choose virtue or vice. Heracles went to a quiet place and sat down to consider which path he should follow. As he sat thinking, two tall women appeared and approached him. One was beautiful, naturally open and unaffected, with purity in her limbs and modesty in her eyes. She walked with a sober bearing and wore white. The other woman was different. The softness of her flesh revealed how she had been brought up. She had made up her skin to appear whiter and rosier than it really was, and her figure to seem taller than nature had made her. Her eyes were wide open, and her clothes revealed the fullness of her beauty. She often looked herself over or checked to see whether others noticed her. Now and then, she gazed intently at her own shadow.

Read {eleutherion phusei,...}, or, if reading {eleutherion, phusei...}, translate "nature had adorned her limbs..."

"Now when these two had drawn near to Heracles, she who was first named advanced at an even pace towards him, but the other, in her eagerness to outstrip her, ran forward to the youth, exclaiming, 'I see you, Heracles, in doubt and difficulty what path of life to choose; make me your friend, and I will lead you to the pleasantest road and easiest. This I promise you: you shall taste all of life's sweets and escape all bitters. In the first place, you shall not trouble your brain with war or business; other topics shall engage your mind; your only speculation, what meat or drink you shall find agreeable to your palate; what delight of ear or eye; what pleasure of smell or touch; what darling lover's intercourse shall most enrapture you; how you shall pillow your limbs in softest slumber; how cull each individual pleasure without alloy of pain; and if ever the suspicion steal upon you that the stream of joys will one day dwindle, trust me I will not lead you where you shall replenish the store by toil of body and trouble of soul. No! others shall labour, but you shall reap the fruit of their labours; you shall withhold your hand from nought which shall bring you gain. For to all my followers I give authority and power to help themselves freely from every side.'

"Now when the two women approached Heracles, the first walked toward him at a steady pace, but the other was eager to get ahead of her. She ran up to the young man and cried, 'I see you, Heracles, struggling to decide which path in life to take. Make me your friend, and I will lead you along the most pleasant and easiest road. I promise you this: you will taste all of life's pleasures and escape all its bitterness. First, you will not have to trouble yourself with war or business. You will have other things to think about. Your only concerns will be which food and drink you find pleasing, what delights your ears and eyes, and what pleasures your senses of smell and touch. You will think about which encounter with a beloved lover will thrill you most. You will consider how to sleep most softly and enjoy each pleasure without any pain. And if you ever suspect that your stream of joys will one day run low, trust me. I will not lead you to a place where you must replenish it through physical labor and mental strain. No! Others will work, but you will enjoy the fruits of their labor. You will take anything that brings you profit. For I give all my followers the authority and power to help themselves freely to whatever they find.'"

Or, "without change in her demeanour."

Reading {diese}, or {dioisei}, "you shall continue speculating solely."

Recall that Prodicus prided himself on {orthotes onomaton}. Xenophon may be imitating (caricaturing?) his style. {terphtheies, estheies, euphrantheies}.

"Heracles hearing these words made answer: 'What, O lady, is the name you bear?' To which she: 'Know that my friends call be Happiness, but they that hate me have their own nicknames for me, Vice and Naughtiness.'

"After hearing these words, Heracles asked, 'What is your name, lady?' She replied, 'My friends call me Happiness, but those who hate me have their own nicknames for me, Vice and Naughtiness.'

This is how the common reading {upokorizomenoi} is interpreted. Cobet ("Pros. Xen." p. 36) suggests {upoknizomenoi} = "quippe qui desiderio pungantur."

"But just then the other of those fair women approached and spoke: 'Heracles, I too am come to you, seeing that your parents are well known to me, and in your nurture I have gauged your nature; wherefore I entertain good hope that if you choose the path which leads to me, you shall greatly bestir yourself to be the doer of many a doughty deed of noble emprise; and that I too shall be held in even higher honour for your sake, lit with the lustre shed by valorous deeds. I will not cheat you with preludings of pleasure, but I will relate to you the things that are according to the ordinances of God in very truth. Know then that among things that are lovely and of good report, not one have the gods bestowed upon mortal men apart from toil and pains. Would you obtain the favour of the gods, then must you pay these same gods service; would you be loved by your friends, you must benefit these friends; do you desire to be honoured by the state, you must give the state your aid; do you claim admiration for your virtue from all Hellas, you must strive to do some good to Hellas; do you wish earth to yield her fruits to you abundantly, to earth must you pay your court; do you seek to amass riches from your flocks and herds, on them must you bestow your labour; or is it your ambition to be potent as a warrior, able to save your friends and to subdue your foes, then must you learn the arts of war from those who have the knowledge, and practise their application in the field when learned; or would you e'en be powerful of limb and body, then must you habituate limbs and body to obey the mind, and exercise yourself with toil and sweat.'

"But just then the other beautiful woman approached and spoke: 'Heracles, I have come to you too. I know your parents well, and I have seen your character as you grew up. So I have good hope that, if you choose the path that leads to me, you will strive to perform many brave and noble deeds. I too will be held in even greater honor because of you, reflecting the glory of your brave deeds. I will not deceive you with promises of pleasure. Instead, I will tell you the truth about how God has ordered things. The gods give mortals nothing good and admirable without effort and hardship. If you want the gods' favor, you must serve them. If you want your friends to love you, you must do good for them. If you want the state to honor you, you must help it. If you want all Hellas to admire your virtue, you must strive to do some good for Hellas. If you want the earth to yield abundant crops, you must cultivate it. If you want to grow rich from your flocks and herds, you must work to care for them. If you want to be a powerful warrior, able to save your friends and defeat your enemies, you must learn the arts of war from those who know them. Then you must practice those arts in the field. If you want strong limbs and a strong body, you must train them to obey your mind. You must exercise with effort and sweat.'

Or, "bathed in the splendour of thy virtues."

Or, "honeyed overtures of pleasure."

"At this point, (as Prodicus relates) Vice broke in exclaiming: 'See you, Heracles, how hard and long the road is by which yonder woman would escort you to her festal joys. But I will guide you by a short and easy road to happiness.'

"At this point, as Prodicus tells it, Vice interrupted, exclaiming: 'Do you see, Heracles, how long and hard the road is? That woman would lead you along it to her festive pleasures. But I will lead you to happiness by a short and easy road.'

Hesiod, "Theog." 909; Milton, "L'Allegro," 12.

"Then spoke Virtue: 'Nay, wretched one, what good thing hast thou? or what sweet thing art thou acquainted with—that wilt stir neither hand nor foot to gain it? Thou, that mayest not even await the desire of pleasure, but, or ever that desire springs up, art already satiated; eating before thou hungerest, and drinking before thou thirsteth; who to eke out an appetite must invent an army of cooks and confectioners; and to whet thy thirst must lay down costliest wines, and run up and down in search of ice in summer-time; to help thy slumbers soft coverlets suffice not, but couches and feather-beds must be prepared thee and rockers to rock thee to rest; since desire for sleep in thy case springs not from toil but from vacuity and nothing in the world to do. Even the natural appetite of love thou forcest prematurely by every means thou mayest devise, confounding the sexes in thy service. Thus thou educatest thy friends: with insult in the night season and drowse of slumber during the precious hours of the day. Immortal, thou art cast forth from the company of gods, and by good men art dishonoured: that sweetest sound of all, the voice of praise, has never thrilled thine ears; and the fairest of all fair visions is hidden from thine eyes that have never beheld one bounteous deed wrought by thine own hand. If thou openest thy lips in speech, who will believe thy word? If thou hast need of aught, none shall satisfy thee. What sane man will venture to join thy rablle rout? Ill indeed are thy revellers to look upon, young men impotent of body, and old men witless in mind: in the heyday of life they batten in sleek idleness, and wearily do they drag through an age of wrinkled wretchedness: and why? they blush with shame at the thought of deeds done in the past, and groan for weariness at what is left to do. During their youth they ran riot through their sweet things, and laid up for themselves large store of bitterness against the time of eld. But my companionship is with the gods; and with the good among men my conversation; no bounteous deed, divine or human, is wrought without my aid. Therefore am I honoured in Heaven pre-eminently, and upon earth among men whose right it is to honour me; as a beloved fellow-worker of all craftsmen; a faithful guardian of house and lands, whom the owners bless; a kindly helpmeet of servants; a brave assistant in the labours of peace; an unflinching ally in the deeds of war; a sharer in all friendships indispensable. To my friends is given an enjoyment of meats and drinks, which is sweet in itself and devoid of trouble, in that they can endure until desire ripens, and sleep more delicious visits them than those who toil not. Yet they are not pained to part with it; nor for the sake of slumber do they let slip the performance of their duties. Among my followers the youth delights in the praises of his elders, and the old man glories in the honour of the young; with joy they call to memory their deeds of old, and in to-day's well-doing are well pleased. For my sake they are dear in the sight of God, beloved of their friends and honoured by the country of their birth. When the appointed goal is reached they lie not down in oblivion with dishonour, but bloom afresh—their praise resounded on the lips of men for ever. Toils like these, O son of noble parents, Heracles, it is yours to meet with, and having endured, to enter into the heritage assured you of transcendant happiness.'"

"Then Virtue spoke: 'No, you wretched creature, what good thing do you have? What pleasure do you know, when you will not lift a hand or foot to gain it? You cannot even wait until you desire pleasure. Before the desire arises, you have already had your fill. You eat before you are hungry and drink before you are thirsty. To create an appetite, you must employ an army of cooks and confectioners. To stimulate your thirst, you must buy the most expensive wines and run around looking for ice in summer. Soft blankets are not enough to help you sleep. Couches and feather beds must be prepared for you, and people must rock you to sleep. Your desire for sleep comes not from hard work, but from emptiness and having nothing in the world to do. You even force the natural appetite for love to arise prematurely, using every means you can devise and mixing the sexes in your service. This is how you train your friends: with outrage at night and heavy sleep during the precious hours of the day. Though immortal, you are cast out from the company of the gods and dishonored by good people. The sweetest sound of all, the voice of praise, has never thrilled your ears. The fairest sight of all is hidden from your eyes, for you have never seen a noble deed done by your own hand. If you speak, who will believe you? If you need anything, no one will give it to you. What sane person would dare join your rabble? Your revelers are a sorry sight, weak in body when young and foolish in mind when old. In the prime of life, they grow fat in comfortable idleness. Then they drag wearily through a miserable, wrinkled old age. Why? They blush with shame at what they have done and groan with weariness at what remains to be done. In youth, they indulged freely in pleasures and stored up a great deal of bitterness for old age. But I keep company with the gods and speak with the good among humans. No noble deed, whether divine or human, is done without my help. So I am honored above all in Heaven and on earth among those who have the right to honor me. I am a beloved fellow worker to all craftspeople. I faithfully guard houses and lands, and their owners bless me. I am a kind helper to servants, a brave assistant in the work of peace, and a steadfast ally in war. I am an indispensable partner in every friendship. My friends enjoy food and drink with a pleasure that is sweet in itself and free from trouble. They can wait until they feel hunger or thirst. They also enjoy sweeter sleep than those who do not work. Yet they are not sorry to leave sleep behind, nor do they neglect their duties for its sake. Among my followers, the young delight in praise from their elders, and the old take pride in the respect of the young. They joyfully remember their past deeds and take pleasure in doing good today. Because of me, they are dear to God, beloved by their friends, and honored by their native country. When they reach the appointed end of life, they do not sink into dishonored oblivion. Instead, they bloom again, and people praise them forever. Heracles, son of noble parents, such are the labors you must face. If you endure them, you will enter the heritage of transcendent happiness promised to you.'"

Read {ois prosekei}. If the reading is {proseko}, translate it as "to whom I am attached."

Compare "Econ." v. 8.

Or, "so true is it, a branch is left them; undying honour to their name!"

This, Aristippus, in rough sketch is the theme which Prodicus pursues in his "Education of Heracles by Virtue," only he decked out his sentiments, I admit, in far more magnificent phrases than I have ventured on. Were it not well, Aristippus, to lay to heart these sayings, and to strive to bethink you somewhat of that which touches the future of our life?

Aristippus, this is roughly the theme Prodicus explores in his "Education of Heracles by Virtue." But I admit that he expressed his ideas in far grander language than I have dared to use. Wouldn't it be good, Aristippus, to take these words to heart and give some thought to the future of our lives?

Reading {diokei}, alternatively {diokei} = "so Prodicus arranged the parts of his discourse."