Delphi Complete Works of Dio Chrysostom

by Dio Chrysostom

  [10] Now with what purpose have I rehearsed these matters? Surely not because I was making you the object of such admonition, or because I aimed to dissuade you from being true to a trust. For I should be far worse than Zethus was if I subjected you to such criticism, for he admonished his brother because he did not deem it fitting for him to devote himself to the pursuit of wisdom or to waste time on music to the neglect of his own affairs; and he said that his brother was introducing an absurd and unprofitable Muse. Just as if perchance some one were to say that you too had chosen that sort of occupation, not one of idleness or of drunkenness by any means, and yet one involving neglect of your own estate quite possibly; and, by Zeus, he might even recite this line:

  Wherefore an empty house shall be thy home.

  THE SEVENTY-FOURTH DISCOURSE: ON DISTRUST

  This Discourse, as its title suggests, approaches the question of human relationships from a different angle from that observed in Or. . There the speaker was stressing the annoyances and misfortunes resulting from being trusted; here he produces a wealth of examples to show that it is dangerous to trust any one. That note of cynicism is maintained with remarkable consistency to the very end, and there is a ring of conviction about it all which suggests strongly that Dio is speaking out of the bitterness of his own heart. Arnim places the Discourse among those delivered during the period of Dio’s exile. Because the element of dialogue is found only at the very opening of the document, he infers that Dio was addressing a group of listeners, one of whom bore to the speaker a closer relationship and therefore was helpful in launching the discussion. The abruptness with which the Discourse opens and closes is held to indicate, as in some other instances, that our text has been separated from its original setting, or possibly that the reporter chose only this much for preservation.

  The Seventy-fourth Discourse: On Distrust

  Dio. Are you aware that in the past there have been persons who have been harmed by enemies?

  Interlocutor. Why, of course.

  Dio. Well then, have they been harmed by so-called friends and close acquaintances, or even by certain kinsmen, some even by the very closest, brothers or sons or fathers?

  Int. Yes indeed, many have been.

  Dio. What is the reason, then, that not only do enemies injure their enemies but also the so-called friends injure one another, and, by Heaven, that many even of those who are so closely related act so?

  Int. Clearly the reason is found in the depravity of mankind, because of which each, I imagine, is also himself harmful to himself.

  Dio. Toward all men, then, one should be equally on his guard, and not be one whit more trustful even if a person is held to be a friend or a close acquaintance or a blood-relative?

  Int. Toward all, as this statement of yours declares.

  Dio. Then was the author of this verse right when he wrote,

  Keep sober and remember to distrust;

  These are the joints essential to the mind?

  [2] Int. Probably he was.

  Dio. Furthermore, manifestly the poet is giving this advice, not to his enemies, but rather to those whom he considers friends. For surely those by whom one knows himself to be hated would not entrust with power against himself. How, then, could the poet be urging those to be distrusted whom he does not himself trust?

  Well, then, let us consider the following question also. By whom have more persons been ruined — by those who are admittedly enemies, or, on the contrary, by those who profess to be friends? As for myself, I observe that of the cities which have been captured those which have been destroyed by traitors are more numerous than those which have been forcibly seized by the foe, and also that with human beings those who lodge complaints against their friends and close acquaintances are altogether more numerous than those who blame their enemies for their misfortunes; [3] and, furthermore, that whereas against the foe walls and fortresses have been provided for all — though sometimes no use has been made of these for many years — yet against their fellow citizens, against men who have a common share in the same sanctuaries and sacrifices and marriage rites, men who are fellow tribesmen with one another, fellow demesmen and kinsmen, the courts, the laws, and the magistracies have been provided. Furthermore, these institutions are never idle. At any rate the cities are always crowded with plaintiffs and defendants, with juries and litigants, and not even during their solemn festivals or in times of truce can men keep their hands off one another. At least they pass special laws regarding crimes committed during festivals, and they call these “holy laws,” as if the name did any good! Yes, the war against depravity is unremitting for all against all, a war without truce and without herald; [4] but above all this war is joined between those who are close to one another.

  Accordingly those who wish to live at peace and with some degree of security must beware of fellowship with human beings, must recognize that the average man is by nature prone to let others have a share in any evil, and that, no matter if one claims a thousand times to be a friend, he is not to be trusted. For with human beings there is no constancy or truthfulness at all; on the contrary, any man whom at the moment they prize above everything, even, it may be, above life itself, after a brief interval they deem their bitterest foe, and often they cannot refrain even from attacking his body. [5] For example, the lover slays his beloved because he loves him too much, as he imagines, but really because he has become enraged over some trivial matter. Others slay themselves, some involuntarily because of incontinence, and some voluntarily, since there is nothing in their life more extraordinary than their innate depravity. But enough of this, for the other injuries which each inflicts upon himself it obviously is impossible to examine in detail.

  Then what kind of trust can one have in dealing with men like these, or what assurance? Or how could a person love me who does not love even himself? For the reply which was made to the Athenians on the occasion when, being in dire straits, they made some request concerning Samos, might well, I think, be made to those low persons who try to worm their way into one’s friendship: “If one does not love himself, how can he love another, whether stranger or son or brother?”

  [6] What, then, must one do when some one makes a show of friendship, takes a solemn oath at the altar, and is almost eager to butcher himself there? He must listen, of course, immediately, and, by Zeus, possibly nod assent; yet at the same time be quite certain that not one of his protestations is valid. For example, when Electra beheld Orestes weeping and striving to draw her to him, at the moment she supposed that he had experienced some abatement of his madness, and yet she was far from trusting him entirely. At any rate shortly afterward, seeing him sore distraught, she exclaimed,

  Ah me, dear brother, how confused thy glance,

  How swiftly though hast changed!

  [7] Again, one may often behold the sea so calm that, methinks, even the most timid would scorn it. What then? On that account should one have faith in it, and with neither anchors nor rudder nor all the other aids to safety put to sea? Nay, if Fortune so decrees, presently a gale will swoop down upon you and you will behold a mighty surge and

  Enormous billows, huge as mountains are,

  Curling and topped with foam;

  and the man who but now seems to you gentle and who makes much display of kindliness and zeal, when some chance occasion overtakes him you will find is savage and harsh and ready to work any and every mischief.

  [8] How many prayers do you suppose Medeia offered to the gods in behalf of her children, or how many times did she suffer agony when they were ill, or how often would she have chosen to give her own life in their stead? Yet she became their murderer. “Aye, by Zeus,” someone will say, “in a fit of anger and jealousy.” But do you not suppose that most of mankind could also become jealous, envious, apprehensive? Why, one might almost say that they are always and unceasingly in the grip of these emotions. Do not, therefore, trust those who say that they feel kindly toward you and that they never would abandon thei
r affection for you. For just as the streamers which mark the breeze always flutter according to the quarter from which it blows, now in this direction and now in the opposite direction, in the same way the mood of the common herd shifts in response to each and every emotion.

  [9] Nobody trusts slaves when they make an agreement, for the reason that they are not their own masters; far more should one pay no heed to the agreements of such persons as I am describing. For in every respect human beings, because of their depravity, are farther removed from a state of freedom. The law does not permit one to make a contract with persons younger than a specified age on the ground that they are untrustworthy, nor, at Athens, may one have business dealings with a woman except to the extent of a measure of barley because of the weakness of female judgement. In fact, ordinary persons are no better than the very young, or rather than even the little boys, except in their bodily strength and their rascality; consequently they deserve to be distrusted more than those others.

  [10] It would indeed be a blessing if, just as one becomes successively a lad, a stripling, a youth, and an old man by the passing of time, one might also in the same way become wise and just and trustworthy. Yet it must be said that not one whit better than women of the meaner sort are the men who are depraved. They differ in body, not in mind. Accordingly, just as the women are not allowed by law to accept agreements involving too large a sum, but a limit has been set defining the amount to which they may do so, in the same way, I believe, we should also have dealings with the ordinary run of men so far as the things of least importance, but in actions of greater importance or in discussions about urgent matters or in the safeguarding of one’s existence, never! [11] For the fact is, if they ever refrain from doing mischief for whatever reason, just as the wild beasts often are quiet when asleep or sated with food, though they have not discarded their own peculiar nature, similarly the masses too for a time do no harm, yet later when some pretext is presented they pay in full, as saying goes, both the interest and the principal of their villainy.

  The Spartan, when in social gatherings certain persons offered to make a compact with him and invited him to take as a guarantee of their friendship whatever he might choose, replied that there was only one guarantee, namely, their inability to do harm even if they wished, but that all other guarantees were foolish and absolutely good for nothing. [12] That guarantee alone should one accept from the masses, no other. For the guarantee which consists in phrases, in acquaintanceship, in oaths, in kinship is laughable. Atreus was the brother of Thyestes and the uncle of the little boys whom he slaughtered; Eteocles and Polyneices were not only brothers according to the law, but also children of a son and his mother, the closest relationship possible; wherefore, if there were any utility in birth, these most of all should have loved each other; whereas, in the first place, he who had been trusted expelled the brother who had trusted him and robbed him of his country, [13] and after that they slew each other. Although Theseus was the father of Hippolytus and the son of Poseidon, persuaded by slanders he cursed his son and brought about his death. Priam, who previously had been notable for good fortune and who was king over so many tribes and so wide a domain —

  Seaward as far as Lesbos, the abode

  Of Macar, landward to Phrygia and the stream

  Of boundless Hellespont —

  all because of his son and that son’s incontinence became the most wretched man of all. Now these were men of rank, but how great a multitude do you suppose can be found in every city of the obscure and plebeian Atreuses and Thyesteses, some actually committing murder undetected, and some making plots of other kinds? [14] As for the Aëropês and Clytaemnestras and Stheneboeas, they are too numerous to mention.

  Well, such are the facts about family and domestic ties, but how about oaths? Pandarus gave an oath to Menelaüs, as did the other Trojans too, but none the less he wounded him. Did not Tissaphernes give an oath to Clearchus and his men? What! did not the Great King send them the royal gods and his plighted word? Again, take Philip of Macedon; just as any other weapon which was serviceable for his warfare, was he not always equipped with perjury too; and was he not always seizing the cities by means of these two devices, either violation of treaties or suborning of traitors? He found the former altogether more congenial; for while he had to give money to the traitors, to the gods he paid nothing in connexion with oaths. [15] As for Lysander the Spartan, they say that he gave as his opinion that boys should be deceived with knucklebones and balls, but men with oaths and phrases. But is the crafty fox at all different, as portrayed by Archilochus? And as for the oracle received by Glaucus, do you not imagine that most men had given that advice ere then, namely, to swear,

  Since death awaits as well the man who keeps

  His oath?

  Furthermore, while it has so happened that the persons just named and others like them achieved notoriety because of the great events in which they took part, with the less illustrious Glaucuses or Pandaruses “the marts are thronged and thronged the ways.” This explains why they take neither Apollo nor Athena as counsellor in their perjury.

  [16] But, you say, familiar acquaintance constitutes for mankind a great moral bar against injury, as also do treaties and hospitality. Eurytus was slain by the man who had entertained him in his house,

  The daring one, who feared not Heaven’s wrath,

  Nor reverenced the table he had spread,

  But later even slew his guest.

  And yet he came to be thought a god, though he had shown no reverence for the anger of the gods or for the table of hospitality, and he

  Delighteth in the feast and hath for wife

  Fair-ankled Hebê.

  As for Archilochus, his salt and table availed him naught for the fulfilment of his marriage contract, as he says himself. [17] Lycaon, fool that he was, having encountered Achilles a second time, though he should either fight with vigour or else flee with all speed, urges the plea,

  For with thee first I ate Demeter’s grain.

  Well then, previously, when he had not yet partaken of Achilles’ food, he was sold into Lemnos and thus saved; but this time when taken captive he was slaughtered. That was all the good Demeter did him. As for the ducks and partridges, we do not hunt them until they have eaten of our food. [18] Take Aegisthus; he slew Agamemnon,

  First feeding him, as he who slays an ox

  Hard by the crib.

  And although Agamemnon had suffered no harm at the hands of the Trojans during the ten years in which he had been at war with them and had never sat at meat with them; on the other hand, when he had come home after so long an absence, had sacrificed to the gods, and had caused his own table to be spread before him, his own wife slew him so cruelly. Yes, afterwards, when at the gates of Hades he encountered Odysseus, he denounces Clytaemnestra, [19] for he says she did not even close his eyes when he was dead; and, furthermore, he urges Odysseus never to trust a woman,

  Or ever tell to her a crafty plan.

  Yet Clytaemnestra treated him as she did, not because she was a woman, but because she was a wicked woman; and there is no more reason for not being kind to a woman than to a man. [20] However, I fancy, each one who has encountered misfortune distrusts particularly that because of which he has suffered and warns all others to beware of it. For instance, he who has been bitten by a viper warns against snakes, another who has been bitten by a scorpion warns against scorpions, and if a man has been bitten by a dog, you will see him always carrying a cane; in just that way most men behave toward human beings. One man has met with some dreadful misfortune because of a woman; so he cries to Heaven,

  O Zeus, why hast thou brought to light of day

  The breed of women, snare and curse to men?

  Another, a stranger who has been received as a guest, brings grief to his host, as Alexander did by stealing from Menelaüs his wealth and his wife. The man so treated has been made distrustful toward strangers, another toward a brother, another toward a son.

>   [21] But the case is not so simple; for it is not the brother as such or the kinsman or the stranger who is by nature prone to do wrong, but rather the wicked man; but wickedness is found in almost all; aye, if you have good judgement, beware of all. A stranger? Beware. A fair and moderate man, he says? Beware still more. Let this principle be inviolate. “Yes,” you counter, “but he shows the kindly disposition of a man of courtesy.” Very well, accept him, with gratitude to the gods — or, so please you, to him as well — yet for the future you must watch him. For what some one has said about Fortune might much rather be said about human beings, namely, that no one knows about any one whether he will remain as he is until the morrow. [22] At any rate, men do violate the compacts made with each other and give each other different advice and, believing one course to be expedient, actually pursue another. Thus it comes to pass that when a man, through trusting another, gets involved with one of those troublesome fellows, he makes himself ridiculous if he lays the blame on him when he should blame himself, and if he now and then cries out against the gods, when it is a man by whom he has been duped, a friend and close acquaintance. But the gods laugh at him, knowing as they do that he had duped himself by putting himself in another’s power. Those who stumble on the street or, by Zeus, fall into a mud-puddle or a pit are not angry at the stones or at the mud; for they would be absolutely crazy if they did, seeing that they ought to blame themselves and their heedlessness.