ULYSSES. And you too, by Jove, Mr. Gryllus.
GRYLLUS. What is’t your worship would have with me?
ULYSSES. Knowing you were all born men, I pity the condition ye are now
in; and I pity ye the more, for that being Greeks ye are fallen under
this misfortune; and therefore I made it my request to Circe that she
would restore ye again to your former shape, as many of you as were
desirous, to the end ye might return home again with us.
GRYLLUS. Hold, Mr. Ulysses, not a word more of this, I beseech your
worship. For we all contemn thee, as one that none but fools call
cunning, and as vainly vauntest thyself to be wiser than other men, and
yet art afraid of being changed from worse to better; like children
that are frightened at physician’s doses and hate going to school,
although the medicines and the precepts make them healthy and learned
of diseased and fools; just so thou refusest to be transformed out of
one thing into another. And now thy bones rattle in thy skin for dread
of living with Circe, lest she should transform thee into a hog or a
wolf; and thou wouldst persuade us living in plenty of all enjoyments
not only to forsake these blessings, but to abandon her that has so
well provided for us, to sail along with thee, and to become men again,
the most miserable of all creatures.
ULYSSES. In my opinion, Gryllus, this same wicked cup has not only
deprived thee of thy shape, but of thy sense and reason too; or else
thou art got drunk with those opinions which are everywhere exploded
as nasty and villanous, unless some voluptuous pleasure of custom and
habit has bewitched thee to this body.
GRYLLUS. Neither of these, O king of the Cephallenians. But if thou
art come hither to dispute, and not to rail and swagger, we shall soon
convince thee, having experience of both manners of living, that our
way is to be preferred before that which thou so much applaudest.
ULYSSES. Nay, then go on; I’ll listen with both ears to hear this
paradox discussed.
3. GRYLLUS. Have at ye then, sir. But it behooves us to begin first
with those virtues which you so presumptuously assume to yourselves,
and for which you so highly advance yourselves before the beasts, such
as justice, prudence, fortitude, &c. Now answer me, thou the wisest
among mortals; for I have heard thee telling a story to Circe of the
territory of the Cyclops, that being neither ploughed nor planted by
any person, it is so fertile and generously productive, that it bears
all sorts of fruits and herbs spontaneously. Now which do you prefer,
this country, or your own goat-feeding stony Ithaca, which being
cultivated with great labor and hardship, yet answers the expectations
of the husbandmen with only a mean and scanty return? Now take it not
amiss that I forewarn ye lest your love to your country sway ye to give
an answer contrary to truth.
ULYSSES. No, no, I will not lie for the matter; I must confess I love
and honor my own country more; but I applaud and admire theirs far
beyond it.
GRYLLUS. Hence we must conclude that it is so as the wisest of men has
affirmed; that there are some things to be praised and approved, others
to be preferred by choice and affection. And I suppose you believe the
same concerning the soul. For the same reasons hold in reference to
the soul as to the ground; that such a soul should be the best, that
produces virtue like spontaneous fruit, without labor and toil.
ULYSSES. Grant all this.
GRYLLUS. Then you confess that the souls of beasts are the more
perfect, and more fertilely endued for the production of virtue; seeing
that without any command or instruction—as it were without sowing or
ploughing—it produces and increases that virtue which is requisite for
every one.
ULYSSES. Prithee, Gryllus, don’t rave, but tell me what those virtues
are that beasts partake of?
4. GRYLLUS. Rather what virtues do they not partake of in a higher
degree than the wisest of men? Look upon fortitude in the first
place, of which you vaunt and brag to have such a terrible share,
being not ashamed of the magnificent titles of Ulysses the bold and
city-stormer, when indeed, like a pitiful knave as thou art, thou dost
only circumvent by tricks and artifices men that understand only the
simple and generous way of making war, ignorant altogether of fraud and
faith-breaking, and by that means coverest thy deceit with the name
of virtue, which never admits of any such coney-catching devices. But
do you observe the combats and warfare of beasts, as well one against
another as against yourselves, how free from craft and deceit they
are, and how with an open and naked courage they defend themselves by
mere strength of body; and how, neither afraid of the law that calls
them forth to battle nor the severe edicts against deserters, but only
out of scorn to be overcome, they fight with obstinacy to the last for
conquest and victory. For they are not vanquished when their bodies are
worsted, neither does despair cowardize them, but they die upon the
spot. And you shall see many times that the strength of many, while
they are expiring, being retired and crowded together in some part of
the body, still makes resistance against the victor, and pants and
fumes till at length it fails like extinguished fire that goes out for
want of fuel. But there is no crying for quarter, no begging of mercy,
no acknowledgment of being beaten; nor will the lion be a slave to the
lion, nor the horse to the horse, as one man is a slave to another,
willingly and patiently embracing servitude, which derives its name
(δουλεία) from that of cowardice (δειλία). On the other side, such
beasts as men by nets and treacherous snares get into their power,
if fully grown, rather choose to die than serve, refusing nourishment
and suffering extremity of drought. But as for their young ones,—being
tractable and supple by reason of their age, and fed with the deceitful
mixtures and food that men provide for them, their inbred fierceness
languishing through the taste of preternatural delights,—they suffer
that which is called domestication, which is only an effeminating of
their natural fury.
Whence it is apparent that beasts are naturally inclined to be
courageous and daring, but that the martial confidence of men is
preternatural. Which, most noble Ulysses, you may chiefly observe from
hence; for that in beasts Nature keeps an equal balance of strength;
so that the female, being but little inferior to the male, undergoes
all necessary toils, and fights in defence of her young ones. And thus
you hear of a certain Cromyonian sow, which, though a female, held
Theseus tack, and found him work sufficient. Neither had the wisdom of
that same female Sphinx that sat on Phicium, with all her riddles and
enigmas, availed her, had she not far excelled the Cadmeans in strength
and fortitude. Not far from whence the Telmesian fox had his den, a
great propounder of questions also; not to omit the female serpent that
fought with Apollo for his oracle at Delphi. Your king also took the
mare Aetha from the Sicyonian, as a bribe to discharge him from going
to the wars; and he did well, thereby showing how much he esteemed a
valiant and generous mare above a timorous coward. You yourself have
also seen female panthers and lionesses little inferior to the males
in strength and courage; when your own wife, though a Lacedaemonian,
when you were hectoring and blustering abroad, sat at home in the
chimney-corner, not daring to do so much as the very swallows in
encountering those who plagued both her and her family. Why need I
still speak of the Carian and Maeonian women? Whence it is apparent
that fortitude is not natural to men, for then the women would partake
of the same strength with men. So that the fortitude which you exercise
is only constrained by law, not natural and voluntary, but subservient
to the manners of the place and enslaved to reproach, a thing made up
only of glorious words and adventitious opinion. And you undergo labor
and throw yourself into danger, not out of real valor and boldness, but
because ye are more afraid of other things. Therefore, as among thy own
companions he that first makes haste to snatch up the light oar does
it not because he contemns it, but because he is loath to be troubled
with the more heavy; so he that endures a blow to avoid a wound, and
defends himself against an enemy to preserve himself from wounds and
death, does it not out of daring courage against the one, but out of
fear of the other. Thus your fortitude is only a prudent fear; and your
courage a knowing timidity, which understandingly does one thing to
avoid another.
In short, if you believe yourselves superior to the beasts in
fortitude, why do your poets call those that behave themselves most
valiantly against their enemies wolf-breasted, lion-hearted, and
compare them to wild boars; but never call the courage of lions
man-like, or resemble the strength of a wild boar to that of a man? But
as they call the swift wind-footed, and the beautiful Godlike-formed,
hyperbolizing in their similes; so when they extol the gallantry of
the stout in battle, they derive their comparisons from the superior
in bravery. The reason is, because courage is as it were the tincture
and edge of fortitude; which the beasts make use of unmixed in their
combats, but in you being mixed with reason, like wine diluted with
water, it gives way to danger and loses the opportunity. And some
of you there are who deny that courage is requisite in battle, and
therefore laying it aside make use of sober reason; which they do well
for their preservation, but are shamefully beside the cushion, in point
of strength and revenge. How absurd is it therefore for you to complain
of Nature, because she did not furnish your bodies with goads and teeth
and crooked claws to defend yourselves, when at the same time you would
disarm the soul of her natural weapons?
5. ULYSSES. In good truth, Gryllus, you are grown, in my conceit, a
notable sophister, to discourse at this rate out of a hog’s snout, and
yet to handle your argument so strenuously. But why have you not all
this while spoke a word of temperance?
GRYLLUS. Because I thought you would have contradicted first what I
have already said. But you are in haste to hear what I have to say
concerning temperance, because that, being the husband of a most
temperate and chaste wife, you believe you have set us an example of
temperance by abstaining from Circe’s embraces. And yet in this you
differ nothing from all the beasts; for neither do they desire to
approach their superiors, but they pursue their pleasures and amours
among those of their own tribe. No wonder is it then, if—like the
Mendesian goat in Egypt, which is reported to have been shut up with
several most beautiful women, yet never to have offered copulation with
them, but when he was at liberty, with a lustful fury flew upon the
she-goats—so thou, though a man addicted greatly to venereal pleasures,
yet being a man, hast no desire to sleep with a goddess. And for the
chastity of thy Penelope, the ten thousand rooks and daws that chatter
it abroad do but make it ridiculous and expose it to contempt, their
being not one of those birds but, if she looses her mate, continues a
widow, not for a small time, but for nine ages of men; so that there
is not one of those female rooks that does not surpass in chastity thy
fair Penelope above nine times.
6. But because thou believest me to be a sophister, I shall observe
a certain order in my discourse, first giving thee the definition of
temperance, and then dividing desire according to the several kinds of
it. Temperance then is the contracting and well governing our desires,
pruning off those that are superfluous and encroaching upon our wills,
and ruling those that are necessary by the standards of reason and
moderation. Now in desires you observe a vast number of distinctions.
For it is both natural and necessary to drink; but as for venereal
desires, which derive their originals from Nature, there is a time when
they may be restrained without any inconvenience; these are therefore
called natural but not necessary. But there is another sort, which are
neither natural nor necessary, but infused from without by vain opinion
through the mistake of right and true; and it is these that want but
very little of ruining all your natural desires with their number, like
a multitude of foreigners outnumbering the natives and expelling them
from their habitations. But the beasts, having their souls unmixed and
not to be overcome by these adventitious passions, and living lives
as distant from vain opinion as from the sea, are inferior to you in
living elegantly and superfluously, but they are extremely wary in
preserving temperance and the right government of their desires, as
being neither troubled with many, nor those foreign to their natures.
And therefore formerly I was no less smitten with the glister of gold
than thou art now, as believing nothing else that a man could possess
to be comparable to it. Silver also and ivory inveigled me with the
same desires; and he that enjoyed these things in the greatest measure
seemed to be a man most happy and beloved of God, whether a Phrygian or
a Carian, whether more meanly descended than Dolon or more miserable
than Priam. From thenceforward being altogether swayed by my desires,
I reaped no other pleasure nor delight in any other blessings of my
life, with which I abounded, believing that I wanted still and missed
my share of those that were the chiefest and the greatest. Therefore,
I remember, when I beheld thee in Crete, at some solemnity, most
pompously attired, I neither envied thy wisdom nor thy virtue; but
the extraordinary fineness and exquisite workmanship of thy tunic,
and the glistering of thy purple upper garment, and the beauty of the
ornaments struck me with admiration. And the golden clasp, methought,
was a pretty toy that had something of extraordinary graving in it; and
bewitched with these baubles, I followed thee as the women did. But
now being altogether estranged from those vain opinions, and having
my understanding purified, I tread both gold and silver under my feet
as I do the common stones; nor did I ever sleep more soundly upon thy
carpets and tapestries, than now I do, rolled over head and ears in
the deep and soft mud. None of those adventitious desires reside in
our souls, but for the most part our manner of living is accustomed
to necessary pleasures and desires; and as for those pleasures which
are not necessary but only natural, we make such a use of them as is
neither without order nor moderation.
7. And therefore let us consider these in the first place. The pleasure
then that affects the sense of smelling with sweet odors and fragrant
exhalations, besides that it has something in it which is pure in
itself, and as it were bestowed upon us gratis, contributes also in
some measure to the distinction of nourishment. For the tongue is said
to be the judge of sweet, sour, and tart, only when the juices have
come to be mingled and concorporate with the tasting faculty, and not
before. But our smell, before the taste, becoming sensible of the
virtue and qualities of every thing, and being more accurate than the
tasters attending upon princes, admits what is familiar to Nature, and
expels whatever is disagreeable to it; neither will it suffer it to
touch or molest the taste, but accuses and declares the offensiveness
of the thing smelt, before it do any harm. As to other things, it
troubles us not at all as it does you whom it constrains for the sake
of the sweet scents of cinnamon nard, malobathrum, and Arabian reed,
to seek out for things dissimilar, and to jumble them together with a
kind of apothecary’s or perfumer’s art, and at vast expense to purchase
an unmanly and effeminate delight, for nothing profitable or useful.
Now being such, this sense of smelling has not only corrupted all the
female sex but the greatest part of men, insomuch that they care not to
converse with their own wives, unless perfumed with precious ointments
and odoriferous compositions. Whereas sows, she-goats, and other
females attract the boars, he-goats, and the males of their own kind,
by their own proper scents; and smelling of the pure dew, the meadows,
and the fresh grass, they are incited to copulation out of common
affection; the females without the coynesses of women, or the practice
of little frauds and fascinations, to inflame the lust of their
mates; and the males, not with amorous rage and frenzy stimulated,
and enforced to purchase the act of generation with expensive hire
or servile assiduity, but enjoying their seasonable amours without
deceit or purchase of the satisfaction of their venery. For Nature in
the spring-time, even as she puts forth the buds of plants, likewise
awakens the desires of animals, but presently quenches them again,
neither the female admitting the male nor the male attempting the
female after conception. And thus pleasure has but a small and slender
esteem among us; but Nature is all in all. So that even to this very
day, we beasts were never yet tainted with coupling male with male, and
female with female. Of which nevertheless there are many examples to be
produced among the greatest and most celebrated persons; for I pass by
those not worth remembrance.
Agamemnon hunted all Boeotia in pursuit of Argynnus, who fled his
embraces; and after he had falsely accused the sea and winds, bravely
flung himself into the lake Copais, to quench his love and free himself
from the ardor of his lust.
Hercules in like manner pursuing his beardless friend, forsook his
choicest associates and abandoned the fleet.
In the vaulted room belonging to Apollo surnamed Ptous, one of
you men secretly wrote this inscription, Achilles the fair; when
Achilles at that time had a son. [And I hear the inscription is still
remaining.][94] Yet if a cock tread a cock in the absence of the
hen, he is burned alive, upon the signification of the soothsayer
that it portends some fatal calamity. This is a plain confession in
men themselves, that the beasts excel them in chastity, and that
force is not to be put upon Nature for the sake of pleasure. But
your incontinence is such, that Nature, though she have the law to
assist her, is not able to keep it within bounds; insomuch that, like
a rapid inundation, those inordinate desires overwhelm Nature with
continual violence, trouble, and confusion. For men have copulated with
she-goats, sows, and mares; and women have run mad after male beasts.
And from such copulations sprang the Minotaurs and Silvans, and, as
I am apt to believe, the Sphinxes and Centaurs. It is true, that
sometimes, constrained by hunger, a dog or a bird has fed upon human
flesh; but never yet did any beast attempt to couple with human kind.
But men constrain and force the beasts to these and many other unlawful
pleasures.
8. Now being thus wicked and incontinent in reference to the aforesaid
lustful desires, it is no less easy to be proved that men are more
intemperate than beasts, even in those things which are necessary, that
is to say, in eating and drinking, the pleasure of which we always
enjoy with some benefit to ourselves. But you pursuing the pleasures
of eating and drinking beyond the satisfaction of nature, are punished
with many and tedious diseases, which, arising from the single fountain
of superfluous gormandizing, fill your bodies with all manner of wind
and vapors not easy for purgation to expel. In the first place, all
sorts of beasts, according to their kind, feed upon one sort of food,
which is proper to their natures; some upon grass, some upon roots, and
others upon fruits. They that feed upon flesh never mind any other sort
of food. Neither do they rob the weaker animals of their nourishment.
But the lion suffers the hart, and the wolf the sheep, to feed upon
what Nature has provided for them. But man, such is his voracity, falls
upon all, to satisfy the pleasures of his appetite; tries all things,
tastes all things; and, as if he were yet to seek what was the most
proper diet and most agreeable to his nature, among all the creatures
is the only all-devourer. And first he makes use of flesh, not for
want, as having the liberty to take his choice of herbs and fruits,
the plenty of which is inexhaustible; but out of luxury and being
cloyed with necessaries, he seeks after inconvenient and impure diet,
purchased by the slaughter of living creatures; by that means showing
himself more cruel than the most savage of wild beasts. For blood,
murder, and flesh are proper to nourish the kite, the wolf, and dragon;
but to men they are delicious viands. Then making use of all, he does
not do like the beasts, which abstain from most creatures and are at
enmity only with a few, and that only compelled by the necessities of
hunger; but neither fowl nor fish nor any thing that lives upon the
land escapes your tables, though they bear the epithets of human and
hospitable.
9. Let it be so, that nothing will serve ye but to devour whatever
comes near ye, to pamper and indulge your voracious appetites. Yet
where is the benefit and pleasure of all this? But such is the prudence
of the beasts, as not to admit of any vain and unprofitable arts. And
as for those that are necessary, they do not acquire them, as being
introduced by others or taught for reward; neither do they make it
their study to soder and fasten one contemplation to another, but they
are supplied by their own prudence with such as are true-born and
genuine. It is true, we hear the Egyptians are generally physicians.
But the beasts are not only every one of them notionally endued with
knowledge and art which way to cure themselves, but also to procure
their food and repair their strength, to catch their prey by slight
and cunning, to guard themselves from danger; neither are some of them
ignorant how to teach the science of music so far as is convenient
for them. For from whom did we hogs learn to run to the rivers, when
we are sick, to search for crawfish? Who taught the tortoises, when
they have eaten vipers, to physic themselves with origanum? Who taught
the Cretan goats, when shot with arrows that stick in their bodies,
to betake themselves to dittany, which they have no sooner eaten, but
the heads of the darts fall out of the wound? Now if you say that
Nature is the schoolmistress that teaches them these things, you
acknowledge the prudence of beasts to be derived from the chiefest and
wisest original of understanding; which if you think not proper to
call reason and wisdom, it is time for ye to find out a more glorious
and honorable name for it. Indeed by its effects it shows itself to
be greater and more wonderful in power; not illiterate or without
education, but instructed by itself and wanting nothing from without;
not weak and imperfect, but, through the vigor and perfection of its
natural virtue, supporting and cherishing that natural contribution of
understanding which others attain to by instruction and education. So
that, whatever men acquire and contemplate in the midst of their luxury
and wantonness, those things our understanding attains to through the
excellency of our apprehensions, even contrary to the nature of the
body. For not to speak of whelps that learn to draw dry foot, and colts
that will practise figure-dances; there are crows that will speak, and
dogs that will leap through hoops as they turn around. You shall also
see horses and bulls upon the theatres lie down, dance, stop, and move
their bodies after such a manner as would puzzle even men to perform
the same things; which, though they are of little use, yet being
learned and remembered by beasts, are great arguments of their docility.
If you doubt whether we learn arts, be convinced that we teach them.
For partridges teach their young ones to hide themselves by lying upon
their backs just before a clod of earth, to escape the pursuit of the
fowlers. And you shall observe the old storks, when their young ones
first begin to take wing, what care they take to instruct them upon
the tops of houses. Nightingales also teach their young ones to sing;
insomuch that nightingales taken young out of the nest, and bred up
by hand in cages, sing worse, as being deprived of their instructors
before their time. So that after I had been a while transformed into
this shape, I admired at myself, that I was so easily persuaded by idle
arguments of the sophisters to believe that all other creatures were
void of sense and reason except man.
10. ULYSSES. What then, Gryllus? Does your transmutation inform ye also
that sheep and asses are rational creatures?
GRYLLUS. From these very creatures, most worthy and best of men,
Ulysses, the nature of beasts is chiefly to be discerned to be as
it is, neither void of reason nor understanding. For as one tree is
neither more or less than another without a soul, but all are together
in the same condition of insensibility (for there is no tree that is
endued with a soul); so neither would one animal seem to be more slow
to understand or more indocible than another, if all did not partake
of reason and understanding, though some in a less, some in a greater
measure. For you must consider that the stupidity and slothfulness of
some is an argument of the quickness and subtlety of others, which
easily appears when you compare a fox, a wolf, or a bee with a sheep
or ass; as if thou shouldest compare thyself to Polyphemus, or thy
grandfather Autolycus with the Corinthian [mentioned in] Homer. For I
do not believe there is such difference between beast and beast, in
point of reason and understanding and memory, as between man and man.
ULYSSES. Have a care, Gryllus; it is a dangerous thing to allow them
reason that have no knowledge of a Deity.
GRYLLUS. Must we then deny that thou, most noble Ulysses, being so wise
and full of stratagems as thou art, wast begotten by Sisyphus?...