“I bring to your attention only these few points
out of many, so that you may learn what sort of man
you have left out in favour of Diphilus, whom you
entertain and have put in charge of your son. No





 

wonder, for he is nice to the boy and is an indulgent tutor. If it were not beneath me to say such
things, I might have told you something more, and
if you wished you could find out from Zopyrus, the
boy’s attendant, that it is true. But it is wrong to.
make trouble at a wedding and to defame others,
especially with charges sounseemly. Albeit Diphilus
deserves it for having won two pupils away from me,
I shall hold my tongue in deference to Philosophy
herself.

 

“I have directed my servant, in case you offer him
a portion of boar’s flesh or venison or sesame-cake to
bring to me as an excuse for not asking me to dinner,
not to take it, for fear it may seem as though I sent
him with that in view.”

 

While all that was being read, my dear fellow, the
sweat poured off me for shame, and to quote the
saying, I prayed that the earth would swallow me
when I saw the guests all laughing at every
sentence, especially as many as knew Hetoemocles,
a man with gray hair who looked to be highminded. It was a marvel to me that such a man
had hoodwinked them, deceiving them with his
beard and the concentration expressed in his
features. It was my notion that Aristaenetus
had not carelessly overlooked him, but that, not
thinking he would accept if invited, he would not
expose himself to any such treatment, and so thought
best not to try him at all. When at last the slave
stopped reading, the whole party looked at Zeno and
Diphilus, who were frightened and pale, and by the
distress in their faces acknowledged the truth of the


 

charges brought by Hetoemocles. Aristaenetus was
perturbed and fall of confusion, but he told us to go
on drinking just the same and tried to smooth the
business over, smiling as he did so; the servant he
sent away with the words: “I will see to it.” After
a little while Zeno withdrew unobservedly, for his
attendant directed him to go, as if at the bidding of
his father.

 

Cleodemus had long been looking for an opportunity, as he wanted to pitch into the Stoics and was
ready to burst because he could not find a satisfactory
opening. But at last the letter gave him his cue,
and he said: “That is what your noble Chrysippus
does, and your wonderful Zeno and Cleanthes!
They are nothing but miserable phrase-makers and
question-mongers, philosophers in dress, but in-all
else just like Hetoemocles, most of them. And the
letter—see how venerable it is! To cap all, Aristaenetus is Oeneus and Hetoemocles is Artemis! Good
Lord! In excellent taste, all of it, and just the
thing for a festive occasion!”