Mikyllos Accordingly I got ready to take myself off, but Eukrates turned round and after a good deal of hesitation said, when he saw me looking very downcast, "Come along, too, Mikyllos, and dine with us. I will tell my son to have his supper with his mother in the nursery so that there may be a place for you." So I went in like a wolf who has almost lost his prey, ashamed that they should think I had driven Eukrates's boy from the table. When it was time to take our places on the couches, they first lifted Thesmopolis and set him up. It was no small job, by Zeus! for five—I think it was five -well-grown young men, and they stuffed cushions in all round him to keep him in position and enable him to hold out a long time. Then, as nobody could endure to sit near him, they took me and deposited me beside him, so that we were neighbors. Thereupon we dined, Pythagoras, and had a bountiful and varied dinner off abundance of silver and gold. There were golden goblets, and the waiters were beautiful boys, and between the courses there were singing-girls and clowns, and on the whole the entertainment was delightful. The only drawback was that Thesmopolis gave me a good deal of trouble by boring me and talking to me about the "higher life," and instructing me that two negatives make an affirmative, and that if it is day it is not night, and sometimes he even proved that I had horns. He strung together a great deal more of such philosophy for me, quite gratuitously, and cut off my mirth, because he would not let me listen to the cither-playing and singing. Such, Cock, was the dinner. Cock Not much fun, Mikyllos, particularly as you were assigned to that silly old man. Mikyllos But now hear my dream, too. I thought that Eukrates was dying, being somehow childless, and he sent for me and made a will by which I was heir to everything he had, and shortly after died. I came into possession of the property, and drew gold and silver by the bucketful from a perennial stream. As to other things, clothing, and furniture, and plate, and servants, all I had was just what you would expect. I drove in a white chariot, lolling back, stared at and envied by all spectators. A quantity of servants ran and rode before me, and more followed. I wore his clothes and had as many as sixteen massive rings on my fingers, and I was ordering some brilliant feast to be prepared for the entertainment of my friends. Then, after the manner of dreams, they were already present, and the supper was just being served, and the drinking was about to begin. I was in this situation, and pledging each of my guests in golden goblets, and the dessert was just coming in, when you raised your inopportune cry, put our feast to confusion, overturned the tables and scattered that wealth so that it was blown to the winds. Does it strike you that my anger against you was unreasonable? I should have liked to see that dream for three nights running. Cock What a lover you are of gold and wealth, Mikyllos. Do you admire this one thing of all others, and think it is happiness to have quantities of gold? Mikyllos I am not alone in my opinion, Pythagoras. You yourself, when you were Euphorbos, decked your locks with gold and silver when you went to fight the Achaians, actually in battle, where it was a better plan to carry iron than gold; but even there you thought you must wreathe your hair with gold before you fought. And in my judgment that is why Homer said your hair was like the Graces, because "it was tightly bound with gold and with silver." For it is plain that it looked much more goodly and delightful when it was braided with the gold and vied with it in splendor. Still it does not make much difference, Goldlocks, whether you, who were only Panthoos's son, honored gold or not. But the father of all men and gods, the son of Kronos and Rhea, when he fell in love with that Argolian girl, knew no lovelier form to assume, and no better way to break through the guard of Akrisios-you know, of course, that he turned into gold, and poured through the roof to be with his beloved. So why should I go on to tell you anything more about it, saying how many wants gold fills, and how it makes its owners handsome and clever and powerful, adds glory and reputation to them, and sometimes brings them in a twinkling from obscurity and contempt to prominence and fame. Mikyllos Now, you know my neighbor and fellow-craftsman, Simon, who dined with me not long ago; that time in the holidays when I made a bean soup with two slices of sausage in it. Cock I know the little snub-nosed creature. He picked up the earthen cup, the only one we had, and carried it off under his arm. I saw him, Mikyllos. Mikyllos Then was he that stole it, and afterwards called so many gods to witness his innocence! But why did you not cry out and tell of him then, Cock, when you saw us being robbed? Cock I crowed, which was all I could do then. But what has Simon done? I thought you had something to say about him. Mikyllos He had a cousin named Drimylos, who was enormously rich. While he was living he never gave Simon a cent. Why should he, who never touched his money himself? But he died the other day, and all his property has come by law to Simon, and now he of the dirty rags, he who used to lick his soup-plate, drives at his ease, wearing purple and scarlet, owning slaves and carriages and golden goblets and ivory tables, with the crowd bowing before him, and not so much as a glance for me any longer. At least, I saw him passing close by me and said, "How do you do, Simon?" But he flew into a rage and said, "Tell this beggar not to shorten my name. I am not called Simon, but Simonides." And what is more important, the women are in love with him already, but he is coy with them and fastidious. Some he approves and treats graciously, but others threaten to hang themselves because of his neglect. You see what good things gold can do, if it even transforms the ugly and makes them charming, as that cestus did in the poem. You know, too, what the poets say: O gold, fairest of possessions; and, For it is gold that sways mortals. But what are you laughing at in the midst of my story, Cock? Cock To see you, too, Mikyllos, sharing the vulgar error about rich people through your ignorance. Be assured that they live a much more wretched life than you do. I tell you as one who has been both poor and rich over and over again, and tried every sort of life. It will not be long before you yourself will have knowledge of each. Mikyllos By Zeus! it is high time for you to take your turn and tell about your metamorphoses, and what you know about each life. Cock Listen, but first know this, that I have seen no living soul happier than you. Mikyllos Than I? I wish you the same, for you move me to use bad language to you. But begin with Euphorbos, and tell me how you were changed into Pythagoras, and so on in order down to the cock. For you must have had a variety of sights and experiences in your manifold lives.