Dialogues of the Dead (20.4-20.7)

And who are you over here, with the purple robe and diadem, you who are so solemn?

Lampichus, tyrant of Gela.

Well why, Lampichus, do you bring all that with you?

Well, what should I do? Ought a tyrant to come naked, Hermes?

A tyrant shouldn’t, but a dead man most certainly should. So off with it all.

There you are; there goes my wealth.

Away too with your vanity, Lampichus, and your pride; they will weigh down the ferry, if they come in along with you.

Then at least allow me to keep my diadem and my mantle.

Certainly not; away with these too.

Very well. What else? I’ve thrown away everything, as you can see.

There remain your cruelty, folly, insolence, and temper; away with these too.

There you are; I’m stripped.

Now you may get in. You, the fat and fleshy one, who are you?

Damasias, the athlete.

Yes, you look like him. I know you, having often seen you in the ring.

Yes, Hermes; but let me in; I’m stripped to the skin.

No, you’re not, my good fellow, not while you have all that flesh on you. Well, take it off, for you’ll sink the boat, if you only put one foot aboard. Off too with those wreaths and proclamations of your prowess.

There you are; I’m really stripped now, as you see, and no heavier than the other dead.

It’s better that you should be light like that; get in then. You too, Craton, off with your wealth and your effeminacy too, and your luxury, and don’t bring your funeral trappings or your ancestors’ reputations, but leave behind family, fame, all public proclamations in your honour, and the inscriptions on your statues, and say nothing of the mighty tomb they raised over your body. Even the mention of such things weighs down the boat.

I don’t like it, but away they go. What choice have I?

Good gracious! You there—what do you want with all that armour? Why do you carry that trophy?

Because I was victorious, won the prize for valour, and was honoured by my city.

Leave your trophy on earth above; there’s peace in Hades and weapons won’t be needed.