Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  [16] Does it seem to you, in Heaven’s name, that Agamemnon ruled the Greeks without being subject to an accounting, and that he did not give very strict account for all he did? Very well, let us drop our discussion of these matters just here, since they were dealt with adequately yesterday, and let us turn to some other topic.

  Int. Nay, by Heaven, rather try to say all you can upon the same topic, since I am now at last just beginning to understand the drift of your argument. For I imagine you wish to discuss government or kingship or some such thing.

  THE FIFTY-SEVENTH DISCOURSE: NESTOR

  This little Discourse has as its immediate aim a defence of Nestor’s behaviour in the famous passage in the first book of the Iliad, in which he seems to boast of his former prowess and importance. Dio maintains with some skill, not only that Homer intended the old man to speak as he did, but also that he did not mean to depict him as a braggart — the self-praise of Nestor was to serve the useful purpose of checking the quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles.

  Having made his point, Dio (§ 10) lets his audience into the secret that his sermon on Nestor was really designed to forestall possible criticism of himself when he should presently deliver an address which he had previously delivered before the Emperor. The emperor in question was doubtless Trajan, and the speech to which our Discourse was to serve as prelude may well have been one of Dio’s four discourses On Kingship; see Vol. I of the Loeb Library edition and the Introductions. Such is the view of Arnim, who dates our Discourse in Dio’s latest period and finds in it evidence of what he takes to have been the speaker’s frequent practice, the repetition of speeches previously delivered somewhere else. If one may hazard a guess as to which of the four speeches just mentioned Dio was about to repeat, Or. seems a natural choice, for it is full of Homeric quotations and illustrations selected for their edifying quality, attention is called to Homer’s admiration for oratory, and Nestor himself is twice mentioned in that connexion (§§ 18-24).

  The Fifty-seventh Discourse: Nestor

  Why in the world do you suppose Homer caused Nestor to speak the following verses to Agamemnon and Achilles when he was trying to pacify them and teach them not to quarrel with one another?

  For once in bygone days I dealt with men

  Still braver than ye are, yet they did ne’er

  Make light of me. Such men I had not seen,

  Nor ever shall, as were Peirithoüs

  And Dryas, shepherd of the soldiery,

  And Caeneus and Exadius, Polypheme

  Divine and Theseus son of Aegeus, like

  The deathless gods. Aye, they were reared most strong

  Of earthly men; most strong were they and with

  The strongest strove, wild creatures of the hills,

  And slew them ruthlessly. They understood

  My counsels and they hearkened to my word.

  And so should ye, since hearkening is best.

  [2] Can it be that Homer has made a braggart of Nestor when he says of Peirithoüs and Dryas and the others that, though they were not only marvellous by nature, but also far superior to Agamemnon and Achilles, still they wanted his opinion too, going on to say that he had come from Pylus to Thessaly by invitation, since they wanted to enjoy his company and to converse with him? For why, after having said that they were the strongest of men, does Nestor seem to offer as a weighty testimonial in their favour, that they understood his mind and hearkened to his words? Or do we say his purpose was virtually this — that no man of understanding ever disobeys those whose words are right; nay, disobedience is tantamount to lack of understanding?

  [3] Come then, let us examine also the other aspects of the case, to see if Nestor has spoken rightly or as a braggart. Certainly foolish persons universally scorn men of no reputation and pay no heed to them, even though they may chance to be giving most excellent advice; but, on the other hand, when they see men being honoured by the multitude or by persons of greatest power, they do not disdain to be guided by them. This is one count, therefore, on which Nestor commends himself, namely, that in days gone by he has been able to persuade many men of influence, and that Agamemnon and Achilles will refuse to obey, if they do refuse, because of their own folly and lack of perception, and not because Nestor is incompetent to give advice about things of highest importance. [4] Accordingly, just as Nestor would not have hesitated to disparage himself, if by disparaging and saying that no one ever deigned to consult him about anything he were likely to move Agamemnon and Achilles to obey his words, so, if he thought his self-praise would move them to this, it was reasonable for him to resort to praise. [5] Or is it not the mark of a foolish person to be ashamed to praise himself when by praise he is likely to confer the greatest benefits; just as it is also, I fancy, to do the opposite — put on airs and talk about oneself a great deal, in case some risk or loss should be involved? Therefore, just as when a physician who wants a patient to submit to surgery or cautery or to the drinking of some unpleasant drug, knowing the patient to be cowardly and foolish, mentions others who have been saved by him because they willingly submitted to his treatment, no one says the man who makes these statements is bragging, [6] so it seems to me that Nestor could not justly be accused of bragging either.

  This, then, was one benefit resulting from his words. And here is another — Nestor knew that both Agamemnon and Achilles were misbehaving for no other reason than because of insolence; and he believed that men are insolent most of all, one might say, when they despise the others and deem them far inferior to themselves, being puffed up through reputation or power, and he perceived that this was why Achilles and Agamemnon were puffed up and wrangling, each of them because of arrogance. For the one, as he saw, being a son of Peleus and Thetis and pre-eminent among the men of his day in fighting, believed that it befitted his dignity not to listen to anyone at all or to regard anyone as superior to himself; [7] but in Agamemnon’s case the cause of his arrogance was the power attached to his kingship and his being sole ruler of all the Greeks. Seeing, therefore, that they had been spoiled by these things and could not live at peace with one another, but that they were swollen in spirit — as later Achilles declares,

  My heart with wrath does swell —

  Nestor wished to humble them and, if possible, reduce their pride, just as persons reduce swellings by pricking or squeezing. This explains why he mentioned men of fame and power, and besides, I fancy, men of former times, knowing as he did that fame attaches rather to such men. [8] Moreover, he did not leave to his hearers to determine what opinion they should hold about the men, but instead he himself expressly declares that they were far superior to Agamemnon and Achilles, in the hope that they might abate somewhat their folly and madness.

  Do you think, I ask you, that Homer put these words into Nestor’s mouth at random, the Nestor whom he declares to be most eloquent of men and whose power of eloquence he likens to the sweetness of honey, which is most pleasant and sweetest of all to those who are well, though to those who are ill and suffering from fever, so I hear, it is most unpleasant and has the natural power of cleansing and causing to smart parts which are festered and diseased? [9] For instance, the speech of Nestor, though it appeared sweet to the others, seemed bitter to Achilles and Agamemnon, diseased as they were and corrupted by their rage, and as a result they did not obey him because of their folly. Therefore Homer did not say this at random either or, as some imagine, by chance.

  [10] Well then, let us say no more on these topics. However, there is one matter which calls for consideration in the light of what has been said. Suppose that some one in addressing ordinary men tells them that on a previous occasion, having addressed others who were far superior — popular assemblies or kings or tyrants — he did not fail of his purpose with them but secured their attention and compliance, is it just that such a man should be thought a braggart, on the assumption that he had mentioned those words of his for the purpose of being admired and deemed a genius, or was it rather for the purpos
e of having the compliance of his hearers, imitating the teaching of Nestor? [11] For indeed it is odd if, while Socrates was accustomed to walk but a short distance and then report to those in the Academy the words he had spoken in the Lyceum and, vice versa, had no reluctance to go to the Lyceum and use the words he had spoken in the Academy, and while it has now been so long a time since they began to bring out the same tragedies and comedies year after year, we, on the other hand, shall be thought to be acting strangely in case, when you wish to listen to speeches, we now report the words we have spoken in the presence of the Emperor, as if it were a matter of no consequence to know whether those words are beneficial and serviceable, both for you and for the rest of mankind as well, or trivial and useless. [12] For rest assured that, while words addressed to private persons pertain to those men themselves and to few others, words addressed to kings are like public prayers or imprecations. For that reason I believe the Persian king was especially unwise in being accustomed to dispatch in all directions ordinary persons, King’s Ears as they were called, and to entrust them with the responsibility of listening to everything, it being necessary to protect the real ears of the king much more carefully than the golden plane-tree, to prevent their hearing anything disagreeable and harmful.

  THE FIFTY-EIGHTH DISCOURSE: ACHILLES

  This lively little sketch, whose spirit resembles strongly that of many of the dialogues of Lucian, is regarded by Arnim as a paraphrase of some dramatic composition, either a satyr play or some Cynic tragedy. The space devoted to a discussion of the relative merits of hoplite and archer reminds him of a similar discussion in the Heracles of Euripides (157-164 and 188-203), a play supposed to have been composed about the year 420 B.C., and he therefore suspects Dio’s original to have come from about that period, a period when, for some unknown reason, that topic was of live interest at Athens. Sophocles wrote a satyr play called Achilles’ Lovers, which might have been the play here used by Dio.

  The tradition according to which Cheiron the Centaur was tutor to Achilles is as old as Homer (Il. 11.830-832). According to Apollodorus, Bibliotheca ..-, Thetis, detected by Peleus in the act of making Achilles immortal by passing him through the fire, abandoned her baby and her home and rejoined the Nereids. Thereupon Peleus entrusted the babe to Cheiron. But when Achilles was nine years of age, Thetis, having heard of the prophecy of Calchas, that Troy could not be taken without the aid of Achilles, and knowing that if he took part in the expedition he would meet his death, took him and dressed him as a girl and placed him in the care of Lycomedes on the island of Scyros. We must, therefore, suppose the lad to be not older than nine at the time of our Discourse.

  The Fifty-eighth Discourse: Achilles

  Achilles questioned Cheiron and said, “Why are you teaching me to use the bow?” “Because,” said he, “this too is one of the warlike accomplishments.” “The accomplishment of cowards,” retorted Achilles, “directed against cowards!” “How so?” returned Cheiron. “It does not allow the foe to come near,” said Achilles. “It does not allow the foe to get far away,” replied Cheiron. “The weapon belongs to men who flee.” “Nay; instead it is directed at men who flee.” “With his own hands a man should overpower those who flee.” “More slowly or more quickly?” “As quickly as possible.” “Then,” said Cheiron, “could a man overpower more quickly by running or by flying?” “You don’t mean overpower with his own hands, do you?” “Who does it then?” “The missile.” [2] “But if you hurl a javelin,” said Cheiron, “who overpowers?” “I don’t know.” “Well, when do you yourself overpower and slay? When you lay hold of your victim and tear him to pieces, as wild beasts do? Do you perhaps,” said Cheiron, “regard the women as more manly, because they fight at very close quarters, hurling themselves at each other?” But Achilles, as he heard these words, was filled at one and the same time with rage and tears, and he abused Cheiron and said he was not going to stay with him any longer, but was going back to his father in Phthia to be educated at his court; for Peleus, he claimed, was much better than Cheiron and not a sophist like Cheiron. Now Achilles was then still a lad, not yet nearing the age of puberty.

  [3] “Why then,” said Cheiron, “if he is better than I am, does he not educate you himself?” “Because,” retorted Achilles, “he has no time for it.” “Because of what?” “Because of his kingship.” “Is being king, then, in any way more important than being a teacher?” “Much! But you — you offer me a bit of horn, a piece of sinew, and some tiny bits of iron attached to slender little reeds, as if I were going to hunt birds instead of giving battle to heroes or wild beasts. But any one would find out how wretched the weapons are if ever he came to close quarters and had to use them in hand-to-hand conflict. Nay, with them a man must fight as he runs away, in constant terror, guarding against even being seen, like a cowardly slave; indeed, even if one should make a kill, he could not despoil his victim of his armour, nor will he ever be seen bespattered with his foeman’s blood. That is the sort of stuff you are trying to teach me — how to use the bow and to strum the lyre; yes, and only the other day even to grub roots, as the witches do!”

  [4] “Don’t you like riding a horse either?” Cheiron asked him. “No, and I don’t like you either,” said he, “horsey creature that you are! For you seem to me to be better equipped for running away than for standing your ground.” And Cheiron, flying into a rage at him, his mane bristling with anger, darting a terrible glance of menace like a flash of lightning, but with difficulty refraining from striking him, for he was disposed to be fond of him, cried out, [5] “You bad, bold brat of a briny mother, who has spoiled you vilely, puffing you up with pride of birth! yes, and your father has spoiled you still more than she has, with his tale of how the gods sang at his wedding; but the fact is, you have no connexion with either sea or sky! But let me tell you, a warrior you will never be, though you will have that reputation with the unthinking, nor even a leader of men, no matter where you may engage in warfare, for all that you are the son of Peleus and Thetis. Yet because of your audacity and fleetness of foot and physical strength men in flattery will call you most valiant of men. However, they will prefer to be ruled by other princes, while as for you, they will compel you by gifts and empty praises to do battle and risk your life for them until you finally meet your death. [6] But I fancy you will not even keep your hands off the dead; on the contrary, you will even stab the corpses and trail them in the dust, as if, in sooth, you were doing something grand, just as foolish youngsters drag round and round whatever they kill. But for all your arrogance, you will meet your death, not at the hands of some man of nobility, as you imagine; on the contrary, while you will find it easy to slay those who are like you, brave but stupid, you will be slain by a man of sagacity and military science, and, what is more, without ever having seen him.”

  THE FIFTY-NINTH DISCOURSE: PHILOCTETES

  This Discourse, as possibly also the one preceding, paraphrases a drama, the prologue of Euripides’ Philoctetes. Dio has furnished a synopsis of practically the same material in Or. 52, by comparison with which we are enabled to identify the original drama. The synopsis, however, contains two details not found in the paraphrase, namely, that Diomedes arrived in company with Odysseus (§ 14) and the nature of the chorus and its behaviour toward Philoctetes. Arnim believes that these omissions, and the abortive reference to the Trojan mission, indicate either that Dio failed to complete our Discourse or else that his editor, for some unknown reason, chose to eliminate certain portions of the work.

  Such a conclusion seems not inevitable. As Lemarchand observes (Dion de Pruse, ), Dio himself, when recommending that the student of oratory should memorize for recitation speeches from Xenophon, prescribes that he should not make a slavish copy of the original but that he should rather select such passages as seemed most pertinent (Or. 18.19). Whether our Discourse be viewed as a school exercise or as intended for Dio’s own delivery, it has undeniable unity as it stands. The rôle of Diomedes was undoubtedly mino
r. As handled by Euripides, after his initial entry with Odysseus Diomedes may well have temporarily withdrawn, leaving his companion to deliver the soliloquy with which our paraphrase begins. Furthermore the dialogue between Odysseus and Philoctetes took place prior to the entry of the chorus, as is obviously true of the entry of the Trojan envoys. Indeed, the concluding words of Philoctetes give the impression that at this point in the play both he and Odysseus went indoors, thus paving the way for the entry of the chorus.

  Though unpretentious in style and marked by frequent hiatus, our paraphrase is so like Greek tragedy in spirit that more than one have been tempted to try to recover from Dio’s version the original lines of Euripides. Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., , prints six such lines, which, with very little change, have been recreated with some degree of probability. These six lines are given below, preceded in each instance by the prose wording from which they were evolved:

  1. (§ 6):

  πολλὴν ἔοικας φράζειν ἀλογίαν τῆς δεῦρο ὁδοῦ

  πολλὴν γ’ ἔοικας ἀλογίαν φράζειν ὁδοῦ.

  2. (§ 7):

  πόθεν δή; τοῦτο γὰρ πρῶτον εἰκός με εἰδέναι.

  πόθεν δέ; πρῶτον γὰρ τοδ’ εἰδέναι θέλω.

  3. ibid.:

  πόθεν; εἰπὲ πάλιν, ὡς εἰδῶ σαφέστερον.

  πόθεν; λεγ’ αὗθις, ἵνα μάθω σαφέστερον.

  4. ibid.:

  οὐ δυνατόν, εἴπερ Ἕλλην ὢν τυγχάνεις, τὸ μὴ ἀπολωλέναι σε ἐν τῇδε τῇ ἡμέρᾳ.