They are not entirely of no importance or altogether contemptible when judged in relation to the prerogatives of omnipotence—unless you think it trivial to win at dice, and when others are rolling singles always to be turning up sixes yourself. At any rate many men have got themselves more than enough to eat in this sort of way, men to whom the die will give a gracious and generous nod. Then again, there are those who have swum out to safety without a stitch of clothing when their ship has foundered on the die’s tiny reef. Again, to drink the most delightful drinks, to be acclaimed a better singer in your cups than the next man, to see the others who serve at table with you thrown into the water as the penalty for their clumsy service while you are proclaimed victor and win the sausage as prize—do you see what a blessing that is? Again, to become sole king of all with a win at the knuckle-bones, so that you not only escape silly orders but can give them yourself, telling one man to shout out something disgraceful about himself, another to dance naked, pick up the flute-girl, and carry her three times round the house—surely this is proof of my generosity? And if you criticise this kingdom as not real or lasting you will be unreasonable when you know that I myself who dispense these blessings have the sovereignty for only a short time. So do not hesitate to ask for any of these things which I can give you: gaming, lordship of the feast, singing and all that I have enumerated, in the assurance that I shall not in any circumstances frighten you with the aegis and the thunderbolt.

Why, best of Titans, I need nothing like that. But answer me this—I have longed to know, and if you tell me it will be an adequate return for the sacrifice and I release you from future debts.

Just ask what you want. I shall answer if I happen to know.

This first: whether what we often hear about you is true, that you ate up Rhea’s children, but she put Zeus out of the way, substituting a stone for you to swallow down instead of the child; then, when he grew up, he beat you in war and drove you from the sovereignty; he took you to Tartarus, put fetters on you and all the allies who sided with you, and threw you in.

If it were not festival-time, my man, and if you weren’t allowed to get drunk and cheek your masters with impunity, you would have found out that I’m allowed to be angry at any rate—asking such questions and showing no respect for a grey-haired old god like me!

Now I don’t say this on my own, Cronus. Hesiod and Homer say so; I’m not sure that I should tell you that the rest of mankind too believes pretty much the same about you.

Do you imagine that that shepherd, that impostor, has any sound knowledge of me? Look at it this way: would any man (I will not say god) put up with eating his own children of his own free will, unless he were some Thyestes who unluckily had an impious brother? Suppose he were as mad as this; then how would he fail to recognise he was eating a stone and not a child, unless he had no feeling in his teeth? No, there was no fighting, nor does Zeus rule his empire by force; I handed it to him and abdicated quite voluntarily. That I am neither in chains nor in Tartarus I suppose you see for yourself, unless you are as blind as Homer.

Why ever did you let the sovereignty go, Cronus?

I will tell you. In brief it was because I was old and gouty owing to my years. That is why people suppose that I had been put into chains. I hadn’t the strength to deal with all the injustice of the present generation, but I had to run up and down with my thunderbolt at the ready, setting fire to perjurers, temple-robbers, or men of violence; the whole business was very strenuous and needed a young man’s energy. So I abdicated, thank goodness, in favour of Zeus. Besides, I thought it a good idea to divide the kingdom between my sons, and for myself to spend most of my time in quiet enjoyment of the good things of life, not engaged with people making vows or annoyed by those who make contradictory requests, neither thundering nor lightening nor having to throw hail occasionally. No, I live this pleasant life of an old man, drinking stiff nectar and chatting with Iapetus and my other cronies, and Zeus is king with all the worry. Nevertheless I thought it best to filch these few days on the terms I mentioned, and I take over the sovereignty again to remind mankind what life was like under me, when everything grew for them without sowing and without ploughing—not ears of wheat, but loaves ready-baked and meats ready-cooked. Wine flowed like a river, and there were springs of honey and milk; for everyone was good, pure gold. This is the reason for my short-lived dominion, and why everywhere there is clapping and singing and playing games, and everyone, slave and free man, is held as good as his neighbour. There was no slavery, you see, in my time.