The Works of Lucian of Samosata — Volume 02Lucian, of Samosata
Philosophy
The Works of Lucian of Samosata — Volume 02
Lucian, of Samosata
Lucian, of Samosata -- Translations into English
And now dinner is over; you retire, and snatch a little sleep. But at
cock-crow you are aroused. 'Wretch! Worm that I am!' you exclaim. 'To
sacrifice the pursuits, the society of former days, the placid life
wherein sleep was measured by inclination, and my comings and goings were
unfettered, and all to precipitate myself bodily into this hideous gulf!
And why? What, in God's name, is my glorious recompense? Was there no
other way? Could I not have provided for myself better than this, and
preserved liberty and free-will into the bargain? Alas! the lion is fast
bound in the net. I am haled hither and thither. Pitiable is my lot,
where no honour is to be won, no favour to be hoped for. Untaught,
unpractised in the arts of flattery, I am pitted against professionals. I
am no choice spirit, no jolly companion; to raise a laugh is beyond me.
My presence (well do I know it) is a vexation to my patron, and then most
when he is in his most gracious mood. He finds me sullen; and how to
attune myself to him I know not. If I wear a grim face, I am a sour
fellow, scarcely to be endured. If I assume my most cheerful expression,
my smiles arouse his contempt and disgust. As well attempt to act a comic
part in the mask of tragedy! And what is the end of it all? My present
life has been another's: do I look to have a new life which shall be my
own?'
Your soliloquy is interrupted by the bell. The old routine awaits you:
you must trudge, and you must stand; and first anoint your limbs, if you
would hold out to the end. Dinner will be the same as ever, and go on as
late as ever. The change from all your former habits, the wakeful night,
the violent exercise, the exhaustion, are slowly undermining your health
at this moment, and preparing you for consumption or colic, for asthma or
the delights of gout. However, you hold out in spite of all, though many
a time your right place would be in bed. But that would never do: that
looks like shamming, like shirking your work. The result is that you grow
as pallid as a man at the point of death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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