No More Learning

Hermes_


_Me_. Where are all the beauties, Hermes? Show me round; I am a
new-comer.

_Her_. I am busy, Menippus. But look over there to your right, and you
will see Hyacinth, Narcissus, Nireus, Achilles, Tyro, Helen, Leda,--
all the beauties of old.

_Me_. I can only see bones, and bare skulls; most of them are exactly
alike.

_Her_. Those bones, of which you seem to think so lightly, have been
the theme of admiring poets.

_Me_. Well, but show me Helen; I shall never be able to make her out
by myself.

_Her_. This skull is Helen.

_Me_. And for this a thousand ships carried warriors from every part
of Greece; Greeks and barbarians were slain, and cities made desolate.

_Her_. Ah, Menippus, you never saw the living Helen; or you would have
said with Homer,

Well might they suffer grievous years of toil
Who strove for such a prize.

We look at withered flowers, whose dye is gone from them, and what can
we call them but unlovely things? Yet in the hour of their bloom these
unlovely things were things of beauty.

_Me_. Strange, that the Greeks could not realize what it was for which
they laboured; how short-lived, how soon to fade.

_Her_. I have no time for moralizing. Choose your spot, where you
will, and lie down. I must go to fetch new dead.

F.




XIX

_Aeacus. Protesilaus. Menelaus. Paris_


_Aea_. Now then, Protesilaus, what do you mean by assaulting and
throttling Helen?

_Pro_. Why, it was all her fault that I died, leaving my house half
built, and my bride a widow.

_Aea_. You should blame Menelaus, for taking you all to Troy after
such a light-o'-love.

_Pro_. That is true; he shall answer it.

_Me_. No, no, my dear sir; Paris surely is the man; he outraged all
rights in carrying off his host's wife with him. _He_ deserves
throttling, if you like, and not from you only, but from Greeks and
barbarians as well, for all the deaths he brought upon them.

_Pro_. Ah, now I have it. Here, you--you _Paris! you_ shall not escape
my clutches.

_Pa_. Oh, come, sir, you will never wrong one of the same gentle craft
as yourself. Am I not a lover too, and a subject of your deity?
against love you know (with the best will in the world) how vain it is
to strive; 'tis a spirit that draws us whither it will.

_Pro_. There is reason in that. Oh, would that I had Love himself here
in these hands!

_Aea_. Permit me to charge myself with his defence. He does not
absolutely deny his responsibility for Paris's love; but that for your
death he refers to yourself, Protesilaus. You forgot all about your
bride, fell in love with fame, and, directly the fleet touched the
Troad, took that rash senseless leap, which brought you first to shore
and to death.

_Pro_. Now it is my turn to correct, Aeacus. The blame does not rest
with me, but with Fate; so was my thread spun from the beginning.

_Aea_. Exactly so; then why blame our good friends here?

H.




XX

_Menippus. Aeacus. Various Shades_


_Me_. In Pluto's name, Aeacus, show me all the sights of Hades.

_Aea_. That would be rather an undertaking, Menippus. However, you
shall see the principal things. Cerberus here you know already, and
the ferryman who brought you over. And you saw the Styx on your way,
and Pyriphlegethon.

_Me_. Yes, and you are the gate-keeper; I know all that; and I have
seen the King and the Furies. But show me the men of ancient days,
especially the celebrities.

_Aea_. This is Agamemnon; this is Achilles; near him, Idomeneus; next
comes Odysseus; then Ajax, Diomede, and all the great Greeks.

_Me_. Why, Homer, Homer, what is this? All your great heroes flung
down upon the earth, shapeless, undistinguishable; mere meaningless
dust; 'strengthless heads,' and no mistake. --Who is this one, Aeacus?

_Aea_. That is Cyrus; and here is Croesus; beyond him Sardanapalus,
and beyond him again Midas. And yonder is Xerxes.

_Me_. Ha! and it was before this creature that Greece trembled? this
is our yoker of Hellesponts, our designer of Athos-canals? --Croesus
too! a sad spectacle! As to Sardanapalus, I will lend him a box on the
ear, with your permission.

_Aea_. And crack his skull, poor dear! Certainly not.

_Me_. Then I must content myself with spitting in his ladyship's face.

_Aea_. Would you like to see the philosophers?

_Me_. I should like it of all things.

_Aea_. First comes Pythagoras.

_Me_. Good-day, Euphorbus, _alias_ Apollo, _alias_ what you will.

_Py_. Good-day, Menippus.

_Me_. What, no golden thigh nowadays?

_Py_. Why, no. I wonder if there is anything to eat in that wallet of
yours?

_Me_. Beans, friend; you don't like beans.

_Py_. Try me. My principles have changed with my quarters. I find that
down here our parents' heads are in no way connected with beans.

_Aea_. Here is Solon, the son of Execestides, and there is Thales. By
them are Pittacus, and the rest of the sages, seven in all, as you
see. _Me_. The only resigned and cheerful countenances yet. Who is the
one covered with ashes, like a loaf baked in the embers? He is all
over blisters.

_Aea_. That is Empedocles. He was half-roasted when he got here from
Etna.

_Me_. Tell me, my brazen-slippered friend, what induced you to jump
into the crater?

_Em_. I did it in a fit of melancholy.

_Me_. Not you. Vanity, pride, folly; these were what burnt you up,
slippers and all; and serve you right. All that ingenuity was thrown
away, too: your death was detected. --Aeacus, where is Socrates?

_Aea_. He is generally talking nonsense with Nestor and Palamedes.

_Me_. But I should like to see him, if he is anywhere about.

_Aea_. You see the bald one? _Me_. They are all bald; that is a
distinction without a difference.

_Aea_. The snub-nosed one.

_Me_. There again: they are all snub-nosed.

_Soc_. Do you want me, Menippus?

_Me_. The very man I am looking for.

_Soc_. How goes it in Athens?

_Me_. There are a great many young men there professing philosophy;
and to judge from their dress and their walk, they should be perfect
in it.

_Soc_. I have seen many such.

_Me_. For that matter, I suppose you saw Aristippus arrive, reeking
with scent; and Plato, the polished flatterer from Sicilian courts?

_Soc_. And what do they think about _me_ in Athens?

_Me_. Ah, you are fortunate in that respect. You pass for a most
remarkable man, omniscient in fact. And all the time--if the truth
must out--you know absolutely nothing.

_Soc_. I told them that myself: but they would have it that that was
my irony.

_Me_. And who are your friends?

_Soc_. Charmides; Phaedrus; the son of Clinias.

_Me_. Ha, ha! still at your old trade; still an admirer of beauty.

_Soc_. How could I be better occupied? Will you join us?

_Me_. No, thank you; I am off, to take up my quarters by Croesus and
Sardanapalus. I expect huge entertainment from their outcries.

_Aea_. I must be off, too; or some one may escape. You shall see the
rest another day, Menippus.

_Me_. I need not detain you. I have seen enough.

F.




XXI

_Menippus. Cerberus_


_Me_. My dear coz--for Cerberus and Cynic are surely related through
the dog--I adjure you by the Styx, tell me how Socrates behaved during
the descent. A God like you can doubtless articulate instead of
barking, if he chooses.

_Cer_. Well, while he was some way off, he seemed quite unshaken; and
I thought he was bent on letting the people outside realize the fact
too. Then he passed into the opening and saw the gloom; I at the same
time gave him a touch of the hemlock, and a pull by the leg, as he was
rather slow. Then he squalled like a baby, whimpered about his
children, and, oh, I don't know what he didn't do.

_Me_. So _he_ was one of the theorists, was he? His indifference was a
sham?

_Cer_. Yes; it was only that he accepted the inevitable, and put a
bold face on it, pretending to welcome the universal fate, by way of
impressing the bystanders.
All that sort are the same, I tell you--
bold resolute fellows as far as the entrance; it is inside that the
real test comes.

_Me_. What did you think of _my_ performance?

_Cer_. Ah, Menippus, you were the exception; you are a credit to the
breed, and so was Diogenes before you. You two came in without any
compulsion or pushing, of your own free will, with a laugh for
yourselves and a curse for the rest.

F.




XXII

_Charon. Menippus. Hermes_


_Ch_. Your fare, you rascal.

_Me_. Bawl away, Charon, if it gives you any pleasure.

_Ch_. I brought you across: give me my fare.

_Me_. I can't, if I haven't got it.

_Ch_. And who is so poor that he has not got a penny?

_Me_. I for one; I don't know who else.

_Ch_. Pay: or, by Pluto, I'll strangle you.

_Me_. And I'll crack your skull with this stick.

_Ch_. So you are to come all that way for nothing?

_Me_. Let Hermes pay for me: he put me on board.

_Her_. I dare say! A fine time I shall have of it, if I am to pay for
the shades.

_Ch_. I'm not going to let you off.

_Me_. You can haul up your ship and wait, for all I care. If I have
not got the money, I can't pay you, can I?

_Ch_. You knew you ought to bring it?

_Me_. I knew that: but I hadn't got it. What would you have? I ought
not to have died, I suppose?

_Ch_. So you are to have the distinction of being the only passenger
that ever crossed gratis?

_Me_. Oh, come now: gratis! I took an oar, and I baled; and I didn't
cry, which is more than can be said for any of the others.

_Ch_. That's neither here nor there. I must have my penny; it's only
right.

_Me_. Well, you had better take me back again to life.

_Ch_. Yes, and get a thrashing from Aeacus for my pains! I like that.

_Me_. Well, don't bother me.

_Ch_. Let me see what you have got in that wallet.

_Me_. Beans: have some? --and a Hecate's supper.

_Ch_. Where did you pick up this Cynic, Hermes? The noise he made on
the crossing, too! laughing and jeering at all the rest, and singing,
when every one else was at his lamentations.

_Her_. Ah, Charon, you little know your passenger! Independence, every
inch of him: he cares for no one. 'Tis Menippus.

_Ch_. Wait till I catch you---

_Me_. Precisely; I'll wait--till you catch me again.

F.




XXIII

_Protesilaus. Pluto. Persephone_


_Pro_. Lord, King, our Zeus! and thou, daughter of Demeter! Grant a
lover's boon!

_Pl_. What do you want? who are you?

_Pro_. Protesilaus, son of Iphiclus, of Phylace, one of the Achaean
host, the first that died at Troy. And the boon I ask is release and
one day's life.

_Pl_. Ah, friend, that is the love that all these dead men love, and
none shall ever win.

_Pro_. Nay, dread lord, 'tis not life I love, but the bride that I
left new wedded in my chamber that day I sailed away--ah me, to be
slain by Hector as my foot touched land! My lord, that yearning gives
me no peace. I return content, if she might look on me but for an
hour.

_Pl_. Did you miss your dose of Lethe, man?

_Pro_. Nay, lord; but this prevailed against it.

_Pl_. Oh, well, wait a little; she will come to you one day; it is so
simple; no need for you to be going up.

_Pro_. My heart is sick with hope deferred; thou too, O Pluto, hast
loved; thou knowest what love is.

_Pl_. What good will it do you to come to life for a day, and then
renew your pains?

_Pro_. I think to win her to come with me, and bring two dead for one.

_Pl_. It may not be; it never has been.

_Pro_. Bethink thee, Pluto. 'Twas for this same cause that ye gave
Orpheus his Eurydice; and Heracles had interest enough to be granted
Alcestis; she was of my kin.

_Pl_. Would you like to present that bare ugly skull to your fair
bride? will she admit you, when she cannot tell you from another man?
I know well enough; she will be frightened and run from you, and you
will have gone all that way for nothing.

_Per_. Husband, doctor that disease yourself: tell Hermes, as soon as
Protesilaus reaches the light, to touch him with his wand, and make
him young and fair as when he left the bridal chamber.

_Pl_. Well, I cannot refuse a lady. Hermes, take him up and turn him
into a bridegroom. But mind, you sir, a strictly temporary one.

H.




XXIV

_Diogenes. Mausolus_


_Diog_. Why so proud, Carian? How are you better than the rest of us?

_Man_. Sinopean, to begin with, I was a king; king of all Caria, ruler
of many Lydians, subduer of islands, conqueror of well-nigh the whole
of Ionia, even to the borders of Miletus. Further, I was comely, and
of noble stature, and a mighty warrior. Finally, a vast tomb lies over
me in Halicarnassus, of such dimensions, of such exquisite beauty as
no other shade can boast. Thereon are the perfect semblances of man
and horse, carved in the fairest marble; scarcely may a temple be
found to match it. These are the grounds of my pride: are they
inadequate?

_Diog_. Kingship--beauty--heavy tomb; is that it?

_Mau_. It is as you say.

_Diog_. But, my handsome Mausolus, the power and the beauty are no
longer there. If we were to appoint an umpire now on the question of
comeliness, I see no reason why he should prefer your skull to mine.
Both are bald, and bare of flesh; our teeth are equally in evidence;
each of us has lost his eyes, and each is snub-nosed. Then as to the
tomb and the costly marbles, I dare say such a fine erection gives the
Halicarnassians something to brag about and show off to strangers: but
I don't see, friend, that you are the better for it, unless it is that
you claim to carry more weight than the rest of us, with all that
marble on the top of you.

_Mau_. Then all is to go for nothing? Mausolus and Diogenes are to
rank as equals?

_Diog_. Equals! My dear sir, no; I don't say that. While Mausolus is
groaning over the memories of earth, and the felicity which he
supposed to be his, Diogenes will be chuckling. While Mausolus boasts
of the tomb raised to him by Artemisia, his wife and sister, Diogenes
knows not whether he has a tomb or no--the question never having
occurred to him; he knows only that his name is on the tongues of the
wise, as one who lived the life of a man; a higher monument than
yours, vile Carian slave, and set on firmer foundations.

F.




XXV

_Nireus. Thersites. Menippus_


_Ni_. Here we are; Menippus shall award the palm of beauty. Menippus,
am I not better-looking than he?

_Me_. Well, who are you? I must know that first, mustn't I?

_Ni_. Nireus and Thersites.

_Me_. Which is which? I cannot tell that yet.

_Ther_. One to me; I am like you; you have no such superiority as
Homer (blind, by the way) gave you when he called you the handsomest
of men; he might peak my head and thin my hair, our judge finds me
none the worse. Now, Menippus, make up your mind which is handsomer.

_Ni_. I, of course, I, the son of Aglaia and Charopus,

Comeliest of all that came 'neath Trojan walls.

_Me_. But not comeliest of all that come 'neath the earth, as far as I
know. Your bones are much like other people's; and the only difference
between your two skulls is that yours would not take much to stove it
in. It is a tender article, something short of masculine.

_Ni_. Ask Homer what I was, when I sailed with the Achaeans.

_Me_. Dreams, dreams. I am looking at what you are; what you were is
ancient history.

_Ni_. Am I not handsomer here, Menippus?

_Me_. You are not handsome at all, nor any one else either. Hades is a
democracy; one man is as good as another here.

_Ther_. And a very tolerable arrangement too, if you ask me.

H.




XXVI

_Menippus. Chiron_


_Me_. I have heard that you were a god, Chiron, and that you died of
your own choice?

_Chi_. You were rightly informed. I am dead, as you see, and might
have been immortal.

_Me_. And what should possess you, to be in love with Death? He has no
charm for most people.

_Chi_. You are a sensible fellow; I will tell you. There was no
further satisfaction to be had from immortality.

_Me_. Was it not a pleasure merely to live and see the light?

_Chi_. No; it is variety, as I take it, and not monotony, that
constitutes pleasure. Living on and on, everything always the same;
sun, light, food, spring, summer, autumn, winter, one thing following
another in unending sequence,--I sickened of it all.