_Innkeeper._ Why, the Three-headed Dog is a book, master?

_Her._ Ay, and so was the Man with the Three Hats, for that matter.

_Masters._ We leave the rest to you, sir.

_Her._ This is my judgement. Let the woman return beneath her husband's

roof, or many-headed monsters will come of it. These two truant

sparks I hand over to their owners: let them follow their trades as

heretofore; Lecythio wash clothes, and Rosolio patch them;--not,

however, before his back has felt the mallow-stalk. And for Cantharus,

first let the men of pitch take him, and plaster him without mercy;

and be their pitch the vilest procurable. Then let him be led forth to

stand upon the snowy slopes of Haemus, naked and fettered.

_Can._ Mercy! have mercy on me! Ah me! I am undone!

_First Master._ So tragic? Come, follow me to the plasterers; and off

with that lion's-skin, lest you be taken for other than an ass.

F.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Pythagoras, Heraclitus, Democritus.

[8] _Ctesis_ is Greek for 'gain.'

[9] See _Cleanthes_ in Notes.

SATURNALIA

_Cronus. His Priest_

_Pr._ Cronus, you are in authority just now, I understand; to you our

sacrifices and ceremonies are directed; now, what can I make surest of

getting if I ask it of you at this holy season?

_Cro._ You had better make up your own mind what to pray for, unless

you expect your ruler to be a _clairvoyant_ and know what you would

like to ask. Then, I will do my best not to disappoint you.

_Pr._ Oh, I have done that long ago. No originality about it; the

usual thing, please,--wealth, plenty of gold, landed proprietorship, a

train of slaves, gay soft raiment, silver, ivory, in fact everything

that is worth anything. Best of Cronuses, give me some of these; your

priest should profit by your rule, and not be the one man who has to go

without all his life.

_Cro._ Of course! _ultra vires_; these are not mine to give. So do not

sulk at being refused; ask Zeus for them; he will be in authority again

soon enough. Mine is a limited monarchy, you see. To begin with, it

only lasts a week; that over, I am a private person, just a man in the

street. Secondly, during my week the serious is barred; no business

allowed. Drinking and being drunk, noise and games and dice, appointing

of kings and feasting of slaves, singing naked, clapping of tremulous

hands, an occasional ducking of corked faces in icy water,--such are

the functions over which I preside. But the great things, wealth and

gold and such, Zeus distributes as he will.

_Pr._ He is not very free with them, though, Cronus. I am tired of

asking for them, as I do at the top of my voice. He never listens; he

shakes his aegis, gets the thunderbolt ready for action, puts on a

stern look, and scares you out of worrying him. He does consent now

and then, and make a man rich; but his selection is most casual; he

will pass over the good and sensible, and set fools and knaves up to

the lips in wealth, gaol-birds or debauchees most of them. But I want

to know what are the things _you_ can do.

_Cro._ Oh, they are not to be sneezed at; it does not come to so very

little, if you make allowance for my general limitations. Perhaps you

think it a trifle always to win at dice, and be able to count on the

sice when the ace is the best the others can throw? Anyhow, there are

plenty who get as much as they can eat just because the die likes them

and does what it can for them. Others you may see naked, swimming for

their lives; and what was the reef that wrecked them, pray? that little

die. Or again, to enjoy your wine, to sing the best song at table, at

the slaves' feast to see the other waiters[1] ducked for incompetence,

while you are acclaimed victor and carry off the sausage prize,--is all

that nothing? Or you find yourself absolute monarch by favour of the

knucklebone, can have no ridiculous commands[10] laid on you, and can

lay them on the rest: one must shout out a libel on himself, another

dance naked, or pick up the flute-girl and carry her thrice round the

house; how is that for a sample of my open-handedness? If you complain

that the sovereignty is not real nor lasting, that is unreasonable of

you; you see that I, the giver of it, have a short-lived tenure myself.

Well, anything that is in my power--draughts, monarchy, song, and the

rest I have mentioned--you can ask, and welcome; _I_ will not scare you

with aegis and thunderbolt.

_Pr._ Most kind Titan, such gifts I require not of you. Give me the

answer that was my first desire, and then count yourself to have repaid

my sacrifice sufficiently; you shall have my receipt in full.

_Cro._ Put your question. An answer you shall have, if my knowledge is

equal to it.

_Pr._ First, then, is the common story true? used you to eat the

children Rhea bore you? and did she steal away Zeus, and give you

a stone to swallow for a baby? did he when he grew to manhood make

victorious war upon you and drive you from your kingdom, bind and cast

you into Tartarus, you and all the powers that ranged themselves with

you?

_Cro._ Fellow, were it any but this festive season, when 'tis lawful to

be drunken, and slaves have licence to revile their lords, the reward

for thy question, for this thy rudeness to a grey-haired aged God, had

been the knowledge that wrath is yet permitted me.

_Pr._ It is not _my_ story, you know, Cronus; it is Homer's and

Hesiod's; I might say, only I don't quite like to, that it is the

belief of the generality.

_Cro._ That conceited shepherd[11]? you do not suppose he knew anything

worth knowing about me? Why, think. Is a man conceivable--let alone a

God--who would devour his own children?--wittingly, I mean; of course

he might be a Thyestes and have a wicked brother; that is different.

However, even granting that, I ask you whether he could help knowing he

had a stone in his mouth instead of a baby; I envy him his teeth, that

is all. The fact is, there was no war, and Zeus did not depose me; I

voluntarily abdicated and retired from the cares of office. That I am

not in fetters or in Tartarus you can see for yourself, or you must be

as blind as Homer.

_Pr._ But what possessed you to abdicate?

_Cro._ Well, the long and short of it is, as I grew old and gouty--that

last, by the way, accounts for the fetters of the story--I found the

men of these latter days getting out of hand; I had to be for ever

running up and down swinging the thunderbolt and blasting perjurers,

temple-robbers, oppressors; I could get no peace; younger blood was

wanted. So I had the happy thought of abdicating in Zeus's favour.

Independently of that, I thought it a good thing to divide up my

authority--I had sons to take it on--and to have a pleasant easy

time, free of all the petition business and the embarrassment of

contradictory prayers, no thundering or lightening to do, no lamentable

necessity for sending discharges of hail. None of that now; I am on the

shelf, and I like it, sipping neat nectar and talking over old times

with Iapetus and the others that were boys with me. And He is king,

and has troubles by the thousand. But it occurred to me to reserve

these few days for the employments I have mentioned; during them I

resume my authority, that men may remember what life was like in my

days, when all things grew without sowing or ploughing of theirs--no

ears of corn, but loaves complete and meat ready cooked--, when wine

flowed in rivers, and there were fountains of milk and honey; all men

were good and all men were gold. Such is the purpose of this my brief

reign; therefore the merry noise on every side, the song and the games;

therefore the slave and the free as one. When I was king, slavery was

not.

_Pr._ Dear me, now! and I accounted for your kindness to slaves and

prisoners from the story again; I thought that, as you were a slave

yourself, you were paying slaves a compliment in memory of your own

fetters.

_Cro._ Cease your ribald jests.

_Pr._ Quite so; I will. But here is another question, please. Used

mortals to play draughts in your time?

_Cro._ Surely; but not for hundreds or thousands of pounds like you;

nuts were their highest stake; a man might lose without a sigh or a

tear, when losing could not mean starvation.

_Pr._ Wise men! though, as they were solid gold themselves, they were

out of temptation. It occurred to me when you mentioned that--suppose

any one were to import one of your solid gold men into our age and

exhibit him, what sort of a reception would the poor thing get? They

would tear him to pieces, not a doubt of it. I see them rushing at him

like the Maenads at Pentheus, the Thracian women at Orpheus, or his

hounds at Actaeon, trying which could get the biggest bit of him; even

in the holidays they do not forget their avarice; most of them regard

the holy season as a sort of harvest. In which persuasion some of them

loot their friends' tables, others complain, quite unreasonably, of

you, or smash their innocent dice in revenge for losses due to their

own folly.

But tell me this, now: as you are such a delicate old deity, why pick

out the most disagreeable time, when all is wrapt in snow, and the

north wind blows, everything is hard frozen, trees dry and bare and

leafless, meadows have lost their flowery beauty, and men are hunched

up cowering over the fire like so many octogenarians,--why this season

of all others for your festival? It is no time for the old or the

luxurious.

_Cro._ Fellow, your questions are many, and no good substitute for the

flowing bowl. You have filched a good portion of my carnival with your

impertinent philosophizings. Let them go, and we will make merry and

clap our hands and take our holiday licence, play draughts for nuts in

the good old way, elect our kings and do them fealty. I am minded to

verify the saw, that old age is second childhood.

_Pr._ Now dry be his cup when he thirsts, to whom such words come

amiss! Cronus, a bowl with you! 'tis enough that you have made answer

to my former questions. By the way, I think of reducing our little

interview to writing, my questions and your so affable answers, for

submission to those friends whose discretion may be trusted.

H.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] See _Saturnalia_ in Notes.

[11] Hesiod.

CRONOSOLON

_The words of Cronosolon, priest and prophet of Cronus, and holiday

lawgiver._

The regulations to be observed by the poor I have sent expressly to

them in another scroll, and am well assured that they will abide by

the same, failing which, they will be obnoxious to the heavy penalties

enacted against the disobedient. And you, ye rich, see to it that ye

transgress not nor disregard the instructions following. Be it known to

him that shall so do, that he scorneth not me the lawgiver, but Cronus'

self, who hath appeared, in no dream, but these two days gone to my

waking senses, and appointed me to give holiday laws. No bondsman was

he, nor foul to look upon, as painters have limned him after poets'

foolish tales. His sickle was indeed full sharp; but he was cheerful

of countenance, strong of limb, and royally arrayed. Such was his

semblance; and his words, wherein too was divinity, it is fitting you

hear.

He beheld me pacing downcast, meditative, and straightway knew--as

how should a God not know?--the cause of my sorrow, and how I was

ill content with poverty and with the unseasonable thinness of my

raiment. For there was frost and north wind and ice and snow, and I

but ill fenced against them. The feast was moreover at hand, and I

might see others making ready for sacrifice and good cheer, but for me

things looked not that way. He came upon me from behind and touched

and thrilled my ear, as is the manner of his approach, and spake: 'O

Cronosolon, wherefore this troubled mien?' 'Is there not a cause,

lord,' I said, 'when I look on pestilent loathly fellows passing rich,

engrossing all luxury, but I and many another skilled in liberal

arts have want and trouble to our bed-fellows? And thou, even thou,

lord, wilt not say it shall not be, nor order things anew and make us

equal.' 'In common life,' then said he, ''tis no light matter to change

the lots that Clotho and her sister Fates have laid upon you; but as

touching the feast, I will set right your poverty; and let the settling

be after this manner. Go, O Cronosolon, indite me certain laws for

observance in the feast days, that the rich feast not by themselves,

but impart of their good things to you.' Then said I, 'I know not how.'

'But I,' quoth he, 'will teach you.' And therewith he began and taught

me. And when I was perfect, 'And certify them,' he said, 'that if they

do not hereafter, this sharp sickle that I bear is no toy; 'twere odd

if I could maim therewith Uranus my father, but not do as much for the

rich that transgress my laws; they shall be fitted to serve the Mother

of the Gods with alms-box and pipe and timbrel.' Thus he threatened;

wherefore ye will do well to observe his decrees.

FIRST TABLE OF THE LAWS

All business, be it public or private, is forbidden during the feast

days, save such as tends to sport and solace and delight. Let none

follow their avocations saving cooks and bakers.

All men shall be equal, slave and free, rich and poor, one with another.

Anger, resentment, threats, are contrary to law.

During the feast days, no man shall be called to account of his

stewardship.

No man shall in these days count his money nor inspect his wardrobe,

nor make an inventory.

Athletic training shall cease.

No discourse shall be either composed or delivered, except it be witty

and lusty, conducing to mirth and jollity.

SECOND TABLE OF THE LAWS

In good time against the feast every rich man shall inscribe in a

table-book the names of his several friends, and shall provide money

to a tithe of his yearly incomings, together with the superfluity of

his raiment, and such ware as is too coarse for his own service, and a

goodly quantity of silver vessels. These shall be all in readiness.

On the eve of the feast the rich shall hold a purification, and drive

forth from their houses parsimony and avarice and covetousness and

all other such leanings that dwell with the most of them. And their

houses being purged they shall make offering to Zeus the Enricher, and

to Hermes the Giver, and to Apollo the Generous. And at afternoon the

table-book of their friends shall be read to them.

Then shall they with their own hands allot to each friend his fitting

share, and send it before set of sun.

And the carriers shall be not more than three or four, the trustiest of

a man's servants, and well on in years. And let him write in a letter

what is the gift, and its amount, that the carriers be not suspect to

giver or receiver. And the said servants shall drink one cup each man,

and depart, and ask no more.

To such as have culture let all be sent in double measure; it is

fitting that they have two portions.

The message that goeth with a gift shall be modest and brief; let no

man humble his friend, nor commend his own gift.

Rich shall not send gifts to rich, nor entertain his peer at the feast.

Of the things made ready for sending, none shall be reserved; let no

man give and un-give.

He that by absence missed his share of yester-year shall now receive

that too.

Let the rich discharge debts for their friends that are poor, and their

rent if they owe and cannot pay it.

Let it be their care above all to know in time the needs of every man.

The receiver for his part should be not over-curious, but account great

whatsoever is sent him. Yet are a flask of wine, a hare, or a fat fowl,

not to be held sufficient gifts; rather they bring the feast into

mockery. For the poor man's return gift, if he have learning, let it be

an ancient book, but of good omen and festive humour, or a writing of

his own after his ability; and the rich man shall receive the same with

a glad countenance, and take and read it forthwith; if he reject or

fling it aside, be it known to him that he hath incurred that penalty

of the sickle, though he himself hath sent all he should. For the

unlearned, let him send a garland or grains of frankincense.

If a poor man send, to one that is rich, raiment or silver or gold

beyond his means, the gift shall be impounded and sold, and the price

thereof cast into the treasury of Cronus; and on the morrow the poor

man shall receive from the rich stripes upon his hands with a rod not

less than twelve score and ten.

LAWS OF THE BOARD

The bath hour shall be noon, and before it nuts and draughts.

Every man shall take place as chance may direct; dignities and birth

and wealth shall give no precedence.

All shall be served with the same wine; the rich host shall not say,

For my colic, or for my megrims, I must drink the better.

Every man's portion of meat shall be alike. The attendants shall favour

none, nor yet in their serving shall they be deaf to any, nor pass any

by before his pleasure be known. They shall not set great portions

before him, and small before him, nor give this one a dainty and that

one refuse, but all shall be equal.

Let the butler have a quick eye and ear for all from his point of

vantage, and heed his master least. And be the cups large or small at

choice.

It shall be any man's right to call a health; and let all drink to all

if they will, when the host has set the wine a-going. But no man shall

be bound to drink, if he be no strong toper.

It shall not be free to any who will to bring an unpractised dancer or

musician to the dinner.

Let the limit to jesting be, that the feelings of none be wounded.

The stake at draughts shall be nuts alone; if any play for money, he

shall fast on the morrow.

When the rich man shall feast his slaves, let his friends serve with

him.

These laws every rich man shall engrave on a brazen pillar and set them

in the centre of his hall and there read them. And be it known that, so

long as that pillar stands, neither famine nor sickness nor fire nor

any mischance shall come upon the house. But if it be removed--which

God avert!--then evil shall be that house's doom.

H.

SATURNALIAN LETTERS

I

_I to Cronus, Greeting._

I have written to you before telling you of my condition, how poverty

was likely to exclude me from the festival you have proclaimed. I

remember observing how unreasonable it was that some of us should be

in the lap of wealth and luxury, and never give a share of their good

things to the poor, while others are dying of hunger with your holy

season just upon them. But as you did not answer, I thought I might as

well refresh your memory. Dear good Cronus, you ought really to remove

this inequality and pool all the good things before telling us to make

merry. The world is peopled with camels and ants now, nothing between

the two. Or, to put it another way, kindly imagine an actor, with one

foot mounted on the tragic stilt and the other bare; if he walks like

that, he must be a giant or a dwarf according to the leg he stands on;

our lives are about as equal as his heights. Those who are taken on by

manager Fortune and supplied with stilts come the hero over us, while

the rest pad it on the ground, though you may take my word for it we

could rant and stalk with the best of them if we were given the same

chance.

Now the poets inform me that in the old days when you were king it

was otherwise with men; earth bestowed her gifts upon them unsown and

unploughed, every man's table was spread automatically, rivers ran wine

and milk and honey. Most wonderful of all, the men themselves were

gold, and poverty never came near them. As for us, we can hardly pass

for lead; some yet meaner material must be found. In the sweat of our

face the most of us eat bread. Poverty, distress, and helplessness,

sighs and lamentations and pinings for what is not, such is the staple

of man's life, the poor man's at least. All which, believe me, would be

much less painful to us, if there were not the felicity of the rich to

emphasize it. They have their chests of gold and silver, their stored

wardrobes, their slaves and carriages and house property and farms,

and, not content with keeping to themselves their superfluity in all

these, they will scarce fling a glance to the generality of us.

Ah, Cronus, there is the sting that rankles beyond endurance--that one

should loll on cloth of finest purple, overload his stomach with all

delicacies, and keep perpetual feast with guests to wish him joy, while

I and my like dream over the problematic acquisition of a sixpence to

provide us a loaf white or brown, and send us to bed with a smack of

cress or thyme or onion in our mouths. Now, good Cronus, either reform

this altogether and feed us alike, or at the least induce the rich

not to enjoy their good things alone; from their bushels of gold let

them scatter a poor pint among us; the raiment that they would never

feel the loss of though the moth were to consume it utterly, seeing

that in any case it must perish by mere lapse of time, let them devote

to covering our nakedness rather than to propagating mildew in their

chests and drawers.

Further let them entertain us by fours and fives, and not as they now

do, but more on principles of equality; let us all share alike. The way

now is for one to gorge himself on some dainty, keeping the servant

waiting about him till he is pleased to have done; but when it reaches

us, as we are in the act of helping ourselves it is whisked off, and

we have but that fleeting glimpse of the entrée or fag-end of a sweet.

Or in comes a sucking-pig; half of it, including the head, falls to

the host; the rest of us share the bones, slightly disguised. And pray

charge the butlers not to make us call unto seven times, but bring us

our wine when we ask for it first; and let it be a full-sized cup and

a bumper, as it is for their masters. And the same wine, please, for

every one at table; where is the legal authority for my host's growing

mellow on the choicest bouquet while my stomach is turned with mere

must?

These things if you correct and reform, you will have made life life,

and your feast a feast. If not, we will leave the feasting to them,

and just kneel down and pray that as they come from the bath the slave

may knock down and spill their wine, the cook smoke their sauce and

absent-mindedly pour the pea-soup over the caviare, the dog steal

in while the scullions are busy and make away with the whole of the

sausage and most of the pastry. Boar and buck and sucking-pigs, may

they rival in their roasting Homer's oxen of the Sun! only let them

not confine themselves to crawling[12], but jump up and make off to

the mountains with their spits sticking in them! and may the fat fowls,

all plucked and trussed, fly far away and rob them of their unsociable

delights!

But we can touch them more closely than that. May Indian gold-ants[13]

come by night, unearth their hoards and convey them to their own

state treasury! May their wardrobe-keepers be negligent, and our good

friends the mice make sieve-work of their raiment, fit for nothing but

tunny-nets! May every pretty curled minion, every Hyacinth and Achilles

and Narcissus they keep, turn bald as he hands the cup! let his hair

fall off and his chin grow bristly, till he is like the peak-bearded

fellows on the comic stage, hairy and prickly on cheek and temple, and

on the top smooth and bare! These are specimens of the petitions we

will send up, if they will not moderate their selfishness, acknowledge

themselves trustees for the public, and let us have our fair share.

H.

II

_Cronus to his well-beloved me, Greeting._

My good man, why this absurdity of writing to me about the state of

the world, and advising redistribution of property? It is none of my

business; the present ruler must see to that. It is an odd thing you

should be the only person unaware that I have long abdicated; my sons

now administer various departments, of which the one that concerns you

is mainly in the hands of Zeus; my own charge is confined to draughts

and merry-making, song and good cheer, and that for one week only.

As for the weightier matters you speak of, removal of inequalities

and reducing of all men to one level of poverty or riches, Zeus must

do your business for you. On the other hand, if any man is wronged

or defrauded of his holiday privileges, that is a matter within my

competence; and I am writing to the rich on the subject of dinners, and

that pint of gold, and the raiment, directing them to send you what the

season requires. The poor are reasonable there; it is right and proper

for the rich to do these things, unless it turns out that they have

good reasons to the contrary.

The Works of Lucian of Samosata — Volume 04 · 第 8 / 17 段