Our ancestors inscribed an account of their
sufferings with each other, or for each other, on a


 

bronze pillar and set it up as an offering in the
Oresteion, making a law that the earliest training
and education of their children should be to learn
by heart the inscription on this pillar. The result is that it would be easier for one of them to
forget his father's name than to be in ignorance
of the deeds of Orestes and Pylades. Moreover,
on the wall enclosing the temple there are ancient
pictures displaying everything related on the pillar. One shows Orestes sailing in company with
his friend; another shows him captured after his
ship went to pieces on the rocks and made ready
for the sacrifice, with Iphigeneia in the act of beginning the ceremony. On the opposite wall he
is seen at the moment when he had burst his
bonds and was killing Thoas and a number of
other Scythians, and, finally, they are painted
sailing away with Iphigeneia and the goddess.
The Scythians are vainly trying to stop the ship,
which is already under sail, and are hanging in
the rigging and trying to board her; but they fail
completely and some get wounded, and others,
in fear of a like fate, swim off to land.

 
In this
picture we can see best how much tenderness
they showed for each other in the struggle with
the Scythians. For the artist has depicted each
careless of his own opponents, but warding off
attacks on his friend, and trying to receive the
missiles intended for him, thinking it nothing to



 



die in saving his friend and taking on his own
body the blow aimed at the other.
Such devotion as this of theirs, such partnership in dangers, the faithfulness and good-fellowship and honesty and firmness of their mutual
love, seemed to us not to belong to human nature,
but to a finer temperament than that of men. For
the majority, as long as the wind is favorable,
take it ill if their friends do not divide their pleasures with them in equal shares, but if there comes
the least breath of adversity they leave them to
face danger alone. I will tell you another thing,
too, that there is no office of friendship that a
Scythian thinks greater, nor anything in which
he takes more pride, than helping a friend in trouble and sharing his dangers, so that we think the
hardest name a man can be called is "traitor to
friendship." This is the reason we honor Orestes
and Pylades, who were the best in what the Scythians deem good, and pre-eminent in friendship,
which we admire above all things. So we have
given them the name of “Korakoi,” which in our
language signifies "genii of friendship." Mnesippos Toxaris, I see that the Scythians
have not only been great archers, and better
than other nations in warlike pursuits, but are
also the most persuasive orators in the world.
For though I was of the other opinion a while
ago, I now think you are quite right to deify


 


Orestes and Pylades. And I had no idea, my
dear fellow, that you were a good painter as well.
You have brought before me most vividly the
pictures in the Oresteion, and the battle of the
heroes and their vicarious wounds; but I never
should have supposed that friendship was made
so much of among the Scythians. I thought that
inasmuch as they are inhospitable and wild, they
dwelt together in constant feud and passion and
anger, and entertained no friendship towards
even their next of kin, judging from the things
we hear of them, and particularly that they eat
their fathers when they are dead. Toxaris Whether we are juster and more
pious than the Greeks in these other matters,
such as our relations with our parents, is not a
point that I care to dispute with you at present;
but it is easy to show that Scythian friends are
far truer than Greek friends, and friendship is
made more of by us than by you. Now, by the
gods of the Greeks, do not take it ill if I tell you
some of the things I have noted in my long stay
among you. You seem to me to be able to discuss friendship, it is true, better than other people, but your practice of it is by no means worthy
of your preaching. In fact, you are perfectly satisfied when you have eulogized it and shown how
great a good it is, and in time of need you forsake your theories and make your escape somehow

 

from the thick of action. Whenever the tragedians mount the stage and show you instances
of the friendship you admire, you cry, "Bravo!"
and applaud; and when they run into danger for
another, most of you are even moved to tears;
but in your own persons you do not venture to
perform any praiseworthy act for another; and
if your friend happens to be in need of anything,
all these sentiments of tragedy instantly take to
themselves wings and fly away like dreams, leaving you like those empty, hollow masks whose
great yawning mouths utter not the slightest
sound. With us the case is reversed; for in
proportion as we are poorer in arguments about
friendship we are richer in its works.

 
Come, now, let us do something of this sort, if
it takes your fancy. Let us leave the friends of
old whom you or I could count out of the question; for under that head you would be rich in
them, summoning many credible poets to testify
to the friendship of Achilles and Patroklos, and
the camaraderie of Theseus and Peirithoos and
the others, singing them in metre with the most
beautiful language. But let us select a few from
our contemporaries and tell their exploits-I for
Scythia, you for Greece-and he who is victorious and able to produce the best friends will be
openly the better man, and will proclaim his the
better country, because he has won in a very noble

 

and beautiful contest. For my part, I should
vastly prefer losing my right hand for having
been worsted in single combat-that is the Scythian forfeit to being judged inferior to another
man in respect of friendship, and that, too, though
I am a Greek Scythian myself.