Dialogues of the Dead (20.12-21.2)

But, as I speak, don’t I hear the noise of what seems to be shouting on earth?

Yes, Menippus, and coming from several quarters. In one place they’ve all flocked to the assembly, glad and laughing over the death of Lampichus, while the women have got hold of his wife, and his tiny children too are being pelted by the other children with showers of stones. Then there are others, in Sicyon, applauding Diophantus, the Rhetorician, for his funeral speech over Craton here; and, upon my word, there’s the mother of Damasias wailing with the other women, and leading the dirge over him. But nobody weeps for you, Menippus; you’re the only one lying in peace.

Not so; soon you’ll hear the dogs howling most piteous laments over me, and the ravens flapping their wings in mourning, when they gather and perform my burial.

You’re a man of spirit, Menippus. But, now that we’ve reached port, off to the court with you along that straight path, while the ferryman and I go for another lot.

A good voyage to you, Hermes; but let’s be on our way too. Why do you keep on lingering? We shall have to be judged, and they say the sentences are heavy, wheels and stones and vultures; and the life of each of us will be revealed.

Diogenes, did you know Moerichus, the rich man, the millionaire from Corinth, who owned a fleet of merchant ships, and had a cousin called Aristeas, another rich man, who used to quote Homer and say, “You try to throw me, or let me try to throw you”? [*]

Why, Crates?

They were of an age and showering attentions each on the other for his property. They made no secret of their wills; Moerichus was leaving Aristeas master of all he had, if he died first, and Aristeas was doing the same for Moerichus. This was all down in black and white, and they tried to outdo each other with obsequious attentions, and not only the prophets, divining the future from stars or from

Well, what happened in the end? The story’s worth hearing.

Both have died on one day, and the properties have passed on to Eunomius and Thrasycles, two relations who have never imagined things turning out thus. Their ship was halfway across from Sicyon to Cirrha, when a squall from the north-west caught her on the beam and capsized her.