CRONUS 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. PRIEST Why ever did you let the sovereignty go, Cronus? 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. PRIEST Well, Cronus, I had assumed from the story that this humanity you showed to slaves and those in chains was to do honour to men whose sufferings had been like your own, since you yourself had been a slave and you were remembering your chains. CRONUS Oh, stop that silly talk. PRIEST You are right. I will stop. But answer me another question. Was it customary for men to gamble in your time? CRONUS Certainly. But not for talents and thousands of drachmas as you do. No, nuts were the highest stake. Then there was no heart-break if a man was beaten, or floods of tears because he alone had lost the price of a meal. PRIEST How wise they were! What could their stakes be when they were pure gold themselves? But while you were talking I thought of something: suppose one of your men of beaten gold had been brought into our world for everyone to see, what a bad time the poor wretch would have had at people’s hands! They would have certainly rushed at him and torn him limb from limb, as the Maenads tore Pentheus, the Thracians Orpheus, and the dogs Actaeon, vying with each other to carry off the biggest piece. Not even at festival-time are they free from greed for gain. Indeed most of them have made your festival a source of revenue. Some of them go off and rob their friends at the banquet; others revile you when they ought not and smash the dice, which are certainly not responsible for what they do of their own free will. But tell me this as well: why, when you are such a soft-living god and old at that, have you chosen the most unpleasant time of the year, when the snow covers everything, the North wind is strong, everything is frozen, trees are withered and bare and leafless, fields are ugly and without bloom, and men are bent like old, old men, most of them hard by the




 

stove? The season is not good for the old or for lovers of easy living. CRONUS You are asking me a lot of questions, my man, when I ought to be already drinking. In fact you’ve robbed me of quite a bit of my festival with all these completely unnecessary speculations. So let them be for now and let us enjoy ourselves, clap hands, and live on freedom’s terms at this festival-time. Then let’s dice in the old way for nuts, vote for our kings and obey them. So I will prove the truth of the proverb which says that for old men there comes a second childhood. PRIEST Well, Cronus, never may anyone who doesn’t approve of what you say be able to get a drink when he is thirsty! Then let us drink! Your first answer was quite enough. I think I shall write down this conversation of ours in a book, both what I asked and what you so kindly answered, and I’ll give it to my friends to read, at any rate those who deserve to hear what you have said. Cronosolon 
Thus says Cronosolon,
 Named after Solon, lawgiver of Athens. 
 priest and prophet of Cronus, and giver of laws for his festival.
 What the poor must do I have written in another book and sent to them, and I am well assured that they will abide by the laws, or else they will at once be liable to the severe penalties appointed for disobedience.

 
 But you who are rich, see that you do not transgress the law or hear these commands amiss. Whoever acts otherwise, let him know that it is not I, the lawgiver, whom he slights, but he does injury to Cronus himself, who has appointed me lawgiver of his festival, appearing before me in no dream, but conversing with me in bodily shape the other day when I was fully awake. He was not in fetters, nor was he shabby, as the painters show him, following the ravings of the poets. No, he had his sickle full-whetted; he was all radiance and strength, and his garb was that of a king. Such was his appearance when he was seen by me. What he said equally showed his divinity and may be told you by way of preface.