Then, being in such case, you bother about words,
do you, and laugh, and insult other people? Not
without reason, for we could not all use expressions
like yours. How ever could we? Who is so greatly
daring in language as to ask for a trident instead of a
sword to use on three adulterers, as you did? The quaint conceit that with a trident all three might be despatched at a blow undoubtedly embellished a rhetorical “exercise” like Lucian’s own Tyrannicide or Disowned. Or
to say of Theopompus, in passing judgement on his
Tricaranus, On the book entitled Tricaranus (“Tricipitine,” or “Three-Headed”) see p. 96, n. 9. that he had razed the outstanding cities
single-handed with a three-pronged book? And
again, that he had plied a ruinous trident upon Hellas,
and that he was a literary Cerberus. Cerberus had three heads. Why, the other
day you even lighted a lantern and went peering
about, for some “brother,” I suppose, that had got
astray. And there are other examples beyond
counting, which it is not worth while to mention,
except for one that was heard and reported. A rich
man, I gather, and two poor men were on bad terms.
Then, in the middle of the story, speaking of the rich
man, you said: “He killed θάτερον (meaning one of
the two, instead of saying τὸν ἕτερον); and when those
present laughed, as was natural, by way of correcting
and undoing your slip you said: “No, not that;
he killed ἅτερον Your old-time slips I pass over,
your use of the dual in speaking of three months, of
ἀνηνεμία (for νηνεμία, windlessness), of πέταμαι (for
πέτομαι, I fly), of ἐκχύνειν (for ἐκχεῖν, to pour out), and
all the other fine flowers that adorn your compositions.




 
 
As to what you do under the impulsion of poverty
—by our Lady of Necessity! I cannot censure a
single act. It can be overlooked, for example, if a
man in the pinch of hunger who has received moneys
entrusted to him by a man of his own city subsequently takes a false oath that he received nothing;
or if a man shamelessly asks for gifts—begs, in fact—
and steals and plies the trade of publican. That is
not what I am talking about; for there is nothing
invidious in fending off destitution by every means.
But it goes beyond what is endurable when you, a
poor man, pour the proceeds of your shamelessness
into such indulgences only. However, you will permit me to praise one thing, anyhow, that very pretty
performance of yours when you yourself—and you
know it—composed the “Tisias’ Handbook,” that
work of an ill-omened crow, thus robbing that stupid
old man of thirty gold pieces; for because of Tisias’
name he paid seven hundred and fifty drachmas for
the book, gulled into it by you. Apparently, Lucian’s hero had sold to the old man as “Tisias’ Handbook” a work on rhetoric which he had himself forged. Both Tisias and his master Corax, the founder of rhetoric, were said to have written handbooks. This production, purporting to be by Tisias, was really the work of an ill-omened Korax (crow), thievish as such birds always are.