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.

By Zeus! it is high time for you to take your turn and tell about your metamorphoses, and what you know about each life.

Listen, but first know this, that I have seen no living soul happier than you.

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.

How my soul first took its flight from Apollo down to earth, and made its way into the body of a man in expiation of some crime would be over long to tell; and, moreover, it is not lawful for me to speak or you to hear such matters as these. Then I became Euphorbos.

Tell me this first, have I, too, ever been changed like you?

Certainly.

Who was I, then, if you can tell me, for I long to know.

You? You were an Indian ant of the gold-digging variety.

Poor devil, why did I hesitate to provide myself with even a few grains when I came from that life to this? But tell me, too, what I am going to be next. Probably you know. If it should be anything good, I will get up forthwith and hang myself from the peg you are standing on.