Reader

ZENOPHANTUS Well, Callidemides, how did you die? I used to be a parasite of Dinias, and choked myself to death by eating too much, as you know; for you were there when I died. CALLIDEMIDES Yes, I was there, Zenophantus. But my death was a strange one. I think you know Ptoeodorus, the old man? ZENOPHANTUS The rich man with no children? I knew you were often with him. CALLIDEMIDES I was always most attentive to him, because he promised I would benefit by his death. But since the matter was taking an unconscionable time, and he was living to be older than Tithonus, I found a short cut to the inheritance. I bought poison, and persuaded his butler, next time he asked for wine—he’s a pretty heavy drinker, you know—to have the poison ready in the cup, and give it to him. I promised him his freedom, if he did it. ZENOPHANTUS Well, what happened? Your story looks like being a strange one.

CALLIDEMIDES When we’d come in after our bath, the lad had two cups ready, one with the poison for Ptoeodorus, and the other for me, but somehow he made a mistake, giving me the poison, and Ptoeodorus the harmless cup. A moment later, while he was still drinking, I was lying my full length on the floor, and the wrong man was dead. Why do you find it amusing, Zenophantus? You oughtn’t to laugh at a friend. ZENOPHANTUS Well, it was a droll thing to happen. But what did the old man do? CALLIDEMIDES At first he was a little put out by the suddenness of it all, but then he understood what had happened, I suppose, and laughed himself to see what his butler had done. ZENOPHANTUS But you oughtn’t to have taken that short cut; you’d have been surer of getting him here by the highway, even if he was a little slow in coming.