_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. I found that enjoyment lay not in continual possession; that deprivation had its share therein. _Me_. Very true, Chiron. And how have you got on since you made Hades your home? _Chi_. Not unpleasantly. I like the truly republican equality that prevails; and as to whether one is in light or darkness, that makes no difference at all. Then again there is no hunger or thirst here; one is independent of such things.