Well, there you have what took place at the meeting. For my part, I did what I came to do. Going to Teiresias, I told him the whole story and besought him to tell me what sort of life he considered the best. He laughed (he is a blind little old gentleman, pale, with a piping voice) and said: “My son, I know the reason for your perplexity; it came from the wise men, who are not consistent with themselves. But it is not permissible to tell you, for Rhadamanthus has forbidden it.” “Don’t say that, gaffer,” said I. “Tell me, and don’t allow me to go about in life blinder than you are.” So he took me aside, and after he had led me a good way apart from the others, he bent his head slightly toward my ear and said: “The life of the common sort is best, and you will act more wisely if you stop speculating about heavenly bodies and discussing final causes and first causes, spit your scorn at those clever syllogisms, and counting all that sort of thing nonsense, make it always your sole object to put the present to good use and to hasten on your way, laughing a great deal and taking nothing seriously.” So he spoke, and betook him again through the asphodel meadow.Apparently a cento from Homer; cf. Odyssey, 11, 539.

As it was late by then, I said: “Come, Mithrobarzanes, why do we delay? Why not go back to life again?” To this he replied: “Never fear, Menippus; I will show you a quick and easy short cut.” And then, taking me to a place murkier than the rest of the region and pointing with his finger to a dim and slender ray of light coming in as if through a keyhole, a long way off, he said: “That is the sanctuary of Trophonius, where the people from Boeotia come down. So go up by that route and you will be in Greece directly.” Delighted with his words, I embraced the sorcerer, very laboriously crawled up through the hole somehow, and found myself in Lebadeia.