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.