When I have told you as my fifth case the deeds of Abauchas I will stop. This Abauchas once came into a city of the Borysthenites, bringing with him his wife, whom he loved tenderly, and two small children, one of them a baby at the breast and the other a girl seven years old. A friend of his, Gyndanes, journeyed in company with him, and he, moreover, was suffering from a wound he got from robbers who had waylaid them on the road. For in fighting them he got a thrust in the thigh, so that he could not even stand for pain. As they were asleep at night— they happened to be lodging in an upper story—a great fire broke out, all means of exit were cut off, and the flames surrounded the house on every side. Thereupon Abauchas awoke, and he left his weeping child behind and shook off his wife, who clung to him, calling to her to save herself; but he lifted his friend and made his way down, and was in time to get out through part of the house not yet entirely seized by the fire. His wife followed, carrying the baby, and bidding the little girl come after; but the woman was half-burnt and let the baby fall from her arm, and barely leaped through the flame with the little girl, who also had a narrow escape from death. When it was afterwards made a reproach to Abauchas that he had deserted his wife and children to bring Gyndanes out, he would say, "It is an easy matter for me to have more children, and it is impossible to know whether they will be good or not; but it would take me a long time to find another such friend as Gyndanes, who has given me great proof of his affection."

These five, Mnesippos, I have chosen from many to tell you of. And now it should be time to decide between us whether you are to lose your tongue or I my right hand. Who, then, shall be our judge?

Mnesippos No one, for we did not appoint any arbiter of the discussion. But do you know what we shall do? Since we have this time shot our arrows without a mark, let us choose an umpire and tell him the stories of other friends, and then he who is defeated shall be punished by the loss of his tongue if it be I, of his right hand if it be you. Nay, this is barbarous; but since you have shown yourself an encomiast of friendship, and I, too, believe that mankind have no better or fairer possession, why should not we too agree between ourselves that we are friends now and will be forever, and acquiesce in a common victory, carrying off the greatest prizes—instead of one tongue or one right-hand, each gaining two and four eyes besides, and four feet, and a double allowance of everything? For when two or three friends join. they form something like the painters' picture of Geryon, a man with six hands and three heads. It strikes me that they were three people acting in concert as they ought to do, if they are friends.

Toxaris You are right; let us do so.

Mnesippos But we need no blood, Toxaris, and no sword to cement our friendship. For this present talk of ours and our striving for like things will be more sure than that cup of which you drink, since to my mind such matters need not compulsion but good-will.

Toxaris I approve. Let us be friends and hosts from this moment, you to me here in Greece, and I to you if you should ever come to Scythia.

Mnesippos I assure you I would cheerfully go farther yet to find such friends as your words prove you to be, Toxaris.