The Carousal, or the Lapiths (6-10)

Why should I tell you all of them? The philosophers and literary men, whom, I suppose, you are most eager to hear about, were Zenothemis, the old man of the Porch, [*] and along with him Diphilus, whom they call “Labyrinth,” tutor of Aristaenetus’ boy Zeno. From the Walk [*] there was Cleodemus— you know him, the mouthy, argumentative fellow, whom his pupils call “Sword” and “Cleaver.” Hermon the Epicurean was there too, and as he came in the Stoics at once began to glower at him and turn their backs on him; it was clear that they loathed him as they would a parricide or a man under a curse. These men had been asked to dinner as Aristaenetus’ own friends and associates, and also the grammarian Histiaeus and the rhetorician Dionysodorus.

Then, too, on account of Chaereas, the bridegroom, Ion the Platonic philosopher, who is his teacher, shared the feast—a grave and reverend person to look at, with great dignity written on his features. Indeed, most people call him “Rule,” out of regard for the straightness of his thinking. When he came in, they all arose in his honour and received him like a supernatural being; in short it was a regular divine visitation, the advent of Ion the marvellous.

By that time we had to take our places, for almost everyone was there. On the right as you enter, the women occupied the whole couch, as there were a good many of them, with the bride among them, very scrupulously veiled and hedged in by the women. Toward the back door came the rest of the company according to the esteem in which each was held.

Opposite the women, the first was Eucritus, and then Aristaenetus. Then a question was raised whether Zenothemis the Stoic should have _precedence, he being an old man, or Hermon the Epicurean, because he was a priest of the Twin Brethren and a member of the leading family in the city. But Zenothemis solved the problem; “Aristaenetus,” said he, “if you put me second to this man here,— an Epicurean, to say nothing worse of him,—I shall go away and leave you in full possession of your board.” With that he called his attendant and made as if to go out. So Hermon said: “Take the place of honour, Zenothemis; but you would have done well to yield to me because I am a priest, if for no other reason, however much you despise Epicurus.” “You make me laugh,’ said Zenothemis: “an Epicurean priest!’ With these words he took his place, and Hermon next him, in spite of what had passed; then Cleodemus the Peripatetic; then Ion, and below him the bridegroom, then myself; beside me Diphilus, and below him his pupil Zeno; and then the rhetorician Dionysodorus and the grammarian Histiaeus,

Heavens, Lycinus, it’s a learned academy, this dinner party that you are telling of! Philosophers almost to a man. Good for Aristaenetus, I say, because in celebrating the greatest festival day that there is, he thought fit to entertain the most learned men in preference to the rest of the world, and culled the bloom, as it were, of every school, not including some and leaving out others, but asking all without discrimination.

Why, my dear fellow, he is not one of the common run of rich men; he is interested in culture and spends the better part of his time with these people.