Dialogues of the Dead (18.1-19.3)

It’s just like the proverb; the fawn’s caught the lion.

Why so angry, Cnemon?

You ask why I’m angry? I’ve been outsmarted, poor fool that I am, and have left an heir I didn’t want, passing over those I’d have preferred to have my property.

How did it happen?

I’d been showering my attentions on Hermolaus, the childless millionaire, in hopes of his death, and he was glad enough to have them. So I thought of another clever move, and decided to make my will public. I’ve left him all my property in it, hoping he in turn would emulate me, and do the same by me.

Well, what did he do?

What he put in his own will, I don’t know; I can only tell you that I myself died suddenly, when my roof fell down upon me, and now Hermolaus is in possession of my property, like a greedy bass that has swallowed both hook and bait.

Not only that, but he’s swallowed you the fisherman as well; you’ve been caught by your own cunning.

So it seems; that’s why I’m so sorry for myself.

So, you’ve come to join us at last, Polystratus, after living to be, I think, almost a hundred?

Ninety-eight, Simylus.

Whatever sort of life did you have for these thirty years after my death? I died when you were about seventy.

An exceedingly pleasant life, even if you will think it strange.

Strange indeed, if you were not only old and weak but also childless, and yet could enjoy life.

At first, I could do anything. I still could enjoy plenty of pretty boys, and the nicest women, unguents and fragrant wine, and a table to outdo any in Sicily.

That’s something new. I knew you to be very sparing.

Ah, but the good things came pouring in from others, my good fellow; at crack of dawn crowds of folk would start flocking to my doors, and later in the day all kinds of choice gifts from every corner of the earth would arrive.

Did you become tyrant, Polystratus, after my time?

No, but I had thousands of lovers.

You make me laugh. Lovers? At your age? With only four teeth in your head?

Yes indeed, the noblest lovers in the city. Though I was old and bald, as you see, yes, and blear-eyed and snivelling too, they were delighted to court me, and anyone of them I favoured with a mere glance thought himself in heaven.

You weren’t another to have a divine passenger, as did Phaon, [*] when he ferried Aphrodite over from Chios, and have your prayers answered, becoming young, handsome and attractive all over again?

No, I was the desire of all, though just as you see me now.

You’re talking in riddles.

Yet this great love for rich, childless old men is there for all to see.

Now I understand your beauty, you old wonder; it came from the golden Aphrodite.

And no small enjoyment, Simylus, my lovers have brought me; I was almost worshipped by them. Often I would be coy, and occasionally bar my door to some of them, but they would vie with each other in their zeal for my affection.

But what decision did you make about your property in the end?

I would keep saying in public that I had left each of them as my heir, and each would believe me, and show himself more assiduous than ever in his flattery; but all the time my real will was different and I left them—instructions to go to the devil one and all.