INTRODUCTION

Many will find this little jeu d’esprit as pleasant reading as anything in Plutarch. In part, this may be due to its (perhaps accidental) brevity; but its originality and freshness are undeniable. These qualities have, to be sure, puzzled a number of scholars who are still disputing whether the sources are principally Epicurean or Peripatetic or Cynic. Nothing quite like it is known elsewhere,But talking animals were not new (Hirzel, Der Dialog, i, p. 338 f.). which sad lack baffles the Quellenforscher. So, rather than allow a touch of spontaneous imagination to Plutarch, it has been confidently asserted that the dialogue must come from the school of Menippus, or be an attempt to turn the tables on Polystratus, and so on.

Everything must have a source (if only the author’s ingenuity) and the source here, so far as it can be predicated with any certainty, is the tenth book of the Odyssey seen through the humorous eyes of a young Boeotian.So the sensible Hirzel (op. cit. ii, p. 131); see also Hartman, De Plutarcho, p. 576. Stylometry, however, does not encourage the view that this is an early work (Sandbach, Class. Quart. xxxiii, p. 196). We have here, then, a Boeotian pig instructing the favourite of Athena.Plutarch actually quotes the proverb in his Life of Demosthenes, xi. 5 (851 b) and Mor. 803 d, but does not seem to realize its possible application here. See the note on 995 f infra. It was once fashionable to assert, or imply, that since Plutarch was once a young Boeotian himself, matters could not be so simple, nor could he be the author. But the climate of scholarship is, perhaps, changing. There are few of Plutarch’s admirers who will not claim this lively work for one of his more admirable achievements, written, perhaps, when he was quite young.

Even if the authorship is accepted without hesitation, there is little else that is certain except that the Stoics are constantly under attack, though rather less directly than in the preceding dialogue. There is grave doubt about the title: is it no. 127 or no. 135 in the Lamprias Catalogue? Or, as it has become popular to call it, is it really the Gryllus?Ziegler (RE, s.v. Plutarchos, 743) says that Gryllus is impossible in spite of the Platonic examples, but appears to admit Ammonius (no. 84 in the Lamprias Catalogue). There are a number of troublesome lacunae; the work, as it stands, ends suddenly with a gay witticism instead of being continued to a more conventional termination.See the last note on 992 e infra. It is only too likely that the more mature Plutarch would have gone on and on; but what would the clever young man who concocted this conceit have done?Curiously enough, Xenophon is the most famous son of the historical Gryllus and he is said to have been once a prisoner in Boeotia (Philostratus, Vit. Soph. 12).

For once, there is a good translation, or paraphrase, the German one of Bruno Snell in his Plutarch (Zürich, 1948), though this version gives almost too exciting an impression of vivacity and wit by omitting the more tiresome sections.

Those interested in Gryllus’ remarks on the indecent ways in which men pervert animals to their taste will find a sympathetic exposition in E. G. Boulenger’s Animal Mysteries (London, 1927).

(The speakers in the dialogue are Odysseus, Circe, and Gryllus.)

These facts,For the beginning cf. Horace, Sat. ii. 5. 1: Haec quoque, Teresia, praeter narrata, a form which is assumed to go back to Menippus. Circe, I believe I have learned and shall not forget them; yet I should be happy to learn from you further whether there are any Greeks among those whom you have changed from the shape of men into wolves and lions.

Quite a few, beloved Odysseus. But what is your reason for asking this question?

It is, I swear, because it would bring me noble glory among the Greeks if by your favour I should restore comrades of mine to their original humanity and not allow them to grow old in the unnatural guise of beasts, leading an existence that is so piteous and shameful.

Here’s a lad who finds it appropriate that not only himself and his companions, but even total strangers should, through his stupidity, find his ambition their ruin.

This is a new potionBy which she transformed men into beasts: Odyssey, x. 236. of words that you are stirring and drugging for me, Circe. It will certainly transform me literally into a beast if I am to take your word for it that changing from beast to man spells ruin.

Haven’t you already worked a stranger magic than this on yourself? You who refused an ageless, immortal life at my side and would struggle through a thousand new dangers to a woman who is mortal and, I can assure you, no longer so very young - and this for no object other than to make yourself more gaped at and renowned than you already are, pursuing an empty phantom instead of what is truly good.

All right, let it be as you say, Circe. Why must we quarrel again and again about the same matters? Now please just grant me the favour of letting the men go free.

By the Black Goddess,Hecate, goddess of black magic, who was invoked for such functions at least from the time of Euripides’ Medea (394 ff.). it’s not so simple as that. These creatures are no run of the mill. You must ask them first if they are willing. If they say no, my hero, you’ll have to argue with them and convince them. And if you don’t, and they win the argument, then you must be content with having exercised poor judgement about yourself and your friends.

Dear lady, why are you making fun of me? How can they argue with me or I with them so long as they are asses and hogs and lions?

Courage, courage, my ambitious friend. I’ll see to it that you shall find them both receptive and responsive. Or rather, one of the number will be enough to thrust and parry for them all. Presto! You may talk with this one.

And how am I to address him, Circe? Who in the world was he?After the Homeric formula, e.g., Odyssey, x. 325.

What’s that to do with the issue? Call him Gryllus,Grunter,swine. if you like. I’ll retire now to avoid any suggestion that he is arguing against his own convictions to curry favour with me.

Hello, Odysseus.

And you too, Gryllus, for heaven’s sake!

What do you want to ask?

Since I am aware that you have been men, I feel sorry for all of you in your present plight; yet it is only natural that I should be more concerned for those of you who were Greeks before you fell into this misfortune. So now I have asked Circe to remove the spell from any Greek who chooses and restore him to his original shape and let him go back home with us.

Stop, Odysseus! Not a word more! You see, we don’t any of us think much of you either, for evidently it was a farce, that talk of your cleverness and your fame as one whose intelligence far surpassed the rest - a man who boggles at the simple matter of changing from worse to better because he hasn’t considered the matter. For just as children dread the doctor’s dosesCf. Lucretius, iv. 11 ff.; Plato, Laws, 720 a. If one takes Laws, 646 c literally, there was some reason for fear. and run from lessons, the very things that, by changing them from invalids and fools, will make them healthier and wiser, just so you have shied away from the change from one shape to another. At this very moment you are not only living in fear and trembling as a companion of Circe, frightened that she may, before you know it, turn you into a pig or a wolf, but you are also trying to persuade us, who live in an abundance of good things, to abandon them, and with them the lady who provides them, and sail away with you, when we have again become men, the most unfortunate of all creatures!

To me, Gryllus, you seem to have lost not only your shape, but your intelligence also under the influence of that drug. You have become infected with strange and completely perverted notions. Or was it rather an inclination to swinishness that conjured you into this shape?That is, you were always a swine. It is only your shape that is altered.

Neither of these, king of the Cephallenians.After Homer, Iliad, ii. 631; Odyssey, xxiv. 378; or, taking the pun, King of Brains, Mastermind. But if it is your pleasure to discuss the matter instead of hurling abuse, I shall quickly make you see that we are right to prefer our present life in place of the former one, now that we have tried both.

Go on. I should like to hear you.

And I, in that case, to instruct you. Let us begin with the virtues, which, we note, inspire you with pride; for you rate yourselves as far superior to animalsCf. 962 a supra; on the virtues of animals see Aristotle, Historia Animal. i. 1 (488 f. 12 ff.); Plato, Laches, 196 e; al. in justice and wisdom and courage and all the rest of them. But answer me this, wisest of men! Once I heard you telling Circe about the land of the Cyclopes,Homer, Odyssey, ix. 108 ff. that though it is not ploughed at all nor does anyone sow there, yet it is naturally so fertile and fecund that it produces spontaneously every kind of crops. Do you, then, rate this land higher than rugged, goat-pasturing Ithaca,Odyssey, xiii. 242 ff.; cf. iv. 606. which barely yields the tiller a meagre, churlish, trifling crop after great efforts and much toil? And see that you don’t lose your temper and give me a patriotic answer that isn’t what you really believe.

I have no need to lie; for though I love and cherish my native soil more, the other wins my approval and admiration.

Then this, we shall say, is the situation: the wisest of men thinks fit to commend and approve one thing while he loves and prefers another. Now I assume that your answer applies to the spiritual field also, for the situation is the same as with the landThe principle ubi bene, ibi patria: Pacuvius, frag. 380 (Warmington, Remains of Old Latin, ii. p. 303); Aristophanes, Plutus, 1151; Cicero, Tusc. Disp. v. 37, 108; Appian, B.C. ii. 8. 50.: that spiritual soil is better which produces a harvest of virtue as a spontaneous crop without toil.

Yes, this too you may assume.

At this moment, then, you are conceding the point that the soul of beasts has a greater natural capacity and perfection for the generation of virtue; for without command or instruction, unsown and unploughed, as it were, it naturally brings forth and develops such virtue as is proper in each case.

And what sort of virtue, Gryllus, is ever found in beasts?

Ask rather what sort of virtue is not found in them more than in the wisest of men? Take first, if you please, courage, in which you take great pride, not even pretending to blush when you are called valiant and sacker of cities. Iliad, ii. 278. Yet you, you villain, are the man who by tricks and frauds have led astray men who knew only a straightforward, noble style of war and were unversed in deceit and lies; while on your freedom from scruple you confer the name of the virtue that is least compatible with such nefariousness. Wild beasts, however, you will observe, are guileless and artless in their struggles, whether against one another or against you, and conduct their battles with unmistakably naked courage under the impulse of genuine valour. No edict summons them, nor do they fear a writ of desertion. No, it is their nature to flee subjection; with a stout heart they maintain an indomitable spirit to the very end. Nor are they conquered even when physically overpowered; they never give up in their hearts, even while perishing in the fray. In many cases, when beasts are dying, their valour withdraws together with the fighting spirit to some point where it is concentrated in one member and resists the slayer with convulsive movements and fierce angerLike eels or snakes whose tails continue to twitch long after they are dead. until, like a fire, it is completely extinguished and departs.

Beasts never beg or sue for pity or acknowledge defeat: lion is never slave to lion, or horse to horse through cowardice, as man is to man when he unprotestingly accepts the name whose root is cowardice.Slavery (douleia) as though derived from cowardice (deilia). And when men have subdued beasts by snares and tricks, such of them as are full grown refuse food and endure the pangs of thirst until they induce and embrace death in place of slavery.They also refuse to breed in captivity: Pliny, Nat. Hist. x. 182; al. But nestlings and cubs, which by reason of age are tender and docile, are offered many beguiling allurements and enticements that act as drugs. These give them a taste for unnatural pleasures and modes of life, and in time make them spiritless to the point where they accept and submit to their so-called taming, which is really an emasculation of their fighting spirit.

These facts make it perfectly obvious that bravery is an innate characteristic of beasts, while in human beings an independent spirit is actually contrary to nature. The point that best proves this, gentle Odysseus, is the fact that in beasts valour is naturally equal in both sexesCf. the Cynic doctrine in Diogenes Laertius, vi. 12: virtue is the same for women as for men. and the female is in no way inferior to the male. She takes her part both in the struggle for existence and in the defence of her brood.Cf. Plato, Laws, 814 b. You have heard, I suppose, of the sow of CrommyonCf.Life of Theseus, 9 (4 d-e), which gives a rationalizing version of the story and converts the sow Phaea into a female bandit of the same name. See also Frazer on Apollodorus, Epitome i. 1 (L.C.L., vol. ii, p. 129); Plato, Laches, 196 e. which, though a female beast, caused so much trouble to Theseus. That famous SphinxCf. Frazer on Apollodorus, Library, iii. 5. 8 (L.C.L., vol. i, p. 347). would have got no good of her wisdom as she sat on the heights of Mt. Phicium, weaving her riddles and puzzles, if she had not continued to surpass the Thebans greatly in power and courage. Somewhere thereabouts lived also the TeumesianCf. Frazer on Pausanias, ix. 19. 1. vixen, a thing atrocious Presumably a quotation which has not been identified.; and not far away, they say, was the Pythoness who fought with Apollo for the oracle at Delphi.Cf.Mor. 293 c, 421 c; Frazer on Apollodorus, i. 4. 1 (L.C.L., vol. i, p. 27). Your kingAgamemnon (Iliad, xxiii. 295-299). received AetheA racing mare. from the SicyonianEchepolus. as a recompense for excusing him from military service, making a very wise choice when he preferred a fine, spirited mare to a cowardly man. You yourself have often observed in panthers and lionesses that the female in no way yields to the male in spirit and valour. Yet, while you are off at the wars, your wife sits at home by the fire and troubles herself not so much as a swallow to ward off those who come against herself and her home - and this though she is a Spartan born and bred.As a daughter of Icarius, the brother of Tyndareüs, she was a first cousin of Helen. So why should I go on to mention Carian or Maeonian women?Extreme examples of female lassitude, when even the Spartan Penelope is hopeless by Gryllus’ high standards. Surely from what has been said it is perfectly obvious that men have no natural claim to courageCf. Epicurus, frag. 517 (Usener).; if they did, women would have just as great a portion of valour. It follows that your practice of courage is brought about by legal compulsion, which is neither voluntary nor intentional, but in subservience to custom and censure and moulded by extraneous beliefs and arguments.Cf. Aelian, De Natura Animal. vi. 1. When you face toils and dangers, you do so not because you are courageous, but because you are more afraid of some alternative.Cf. Lucan, vii. 104 f.: Multos in summa pericula misit | venturi timor ipse mali. For just as that one of your companions who is the first to board ship stands up to the light oar, not because he thinks nothing of it, but because he fears and shuns the heavier oneHe chooses the light oar, not because it is a mere nothing to work, but because he dreads the heavier one.; just so he who accepts the lash to escape the sword, or meets a foe in battle rather than be tortured or killed, does so not from courage to face the one situation, but from fear of the other. So it is clear that all your courage is merely the cowardice of prudence and all your valour merely fear that has the good sense to escape one course by taking another.Cf. Plato, Phaedo, 68 d. And, to sum up, if you think that you are better in courage than beasts, why do your poets call the doughtiest fighters wolf-minded In Homer (Iliad, xv. 430) and elsewhere used only as a proper name. Plutarch’s source is probably the lost Epic Cycle. and lion-hearted Iliad, v. 639; vii. 228; of Odysseus himself in Odyssey, iv. 724. and like a boar in valour, Iliad, iv. 253. though no poet ever called a lion man-hearted or a boar like a man in valour? But, I imagine, just as when those who are swift are called wind-footed Iliad, ii. 786 and often (of Iris). and those who are handsome are called godlike, Iliad, iii. 16 and often. there is exaggeration in the imagery; just so the poets bring in a higher ideal when they compare mighty warriors to something else. And the reason is that the spirit of anger is, as it were, the tempering or the cutting edge of courage. Now beasts use this undiluted in their contests, whereas you men have it mixed with calculation, as wine with water, so that it is displaced in the presence of danger and fails you when you need it most. Some of you even declare that anger should not enter at all into fighting, but be dismissed in order to make use of sober calculationFor the calculation of fear see Plato, Laws, 644 d.; their contention is correct so far as selfpreservation goes, but is disgracefully false as regards valorous defence. For surely it is absurd for you to find fault with Nature because she did not equip your bodies with natural stings, or place fighting tusks among your teeth, or give you nails like curved claws,Comparative anatomy teaches us that man resembles frugivorous animals in everything, and carnivorous in nothing; he has neither claws wherewith to seize his prey, nor distinct and pointed teeth to tear the living fibre (Shelley, A Vindication of Natural Diet; see the introduction to the following essay). For some modern remarks cf. Boulenger, Animal Mysteries, p. 196. while you yourselves remove or curb the emotional instrument that Nature has given.